Central/South America Compassion Trip 2013: Visiting Carolina (DR)

Today was my last visit day on my Compassion trip. It wasn’t overly outstanding, exciting, action-packed or joyful. It was real life. There was awkwardness, there was silence, there was honesty, there were hard questions asked and answered.  

I went from thinking “I should have left after Ecuador” to saying, in all humility, “Thank you God for the way you are using me in other people’s lives”. Incredibly profound. I came straight from the airport to the Project, having been delayed by an hour and twenty minutes. I was tired and a little bit grumpy, after a 5.30amstart and being fleeced by hustlers at the Haitiairport. The first thing I learned was that Carolina, who Compassion told me was 15, is actually 18, and a mistake with the birth certificate was the reason given.

It was evident right from the start that I should put this visit in the “I know she enjoyed it but she didn’t really show it” category. I could not get a peep out of her, and she stretched and exhausted my limited conversational skills. I’ll have to take their word for it, but the Compassion staff and her Mama said that she’s normally very chatty and outgoing, but not today. When she found out a couple of days ago that I was coming, she just went mute. Also, normally her Mama has to wake her up, but today, on the day of my visit, she was up without the wakeup call. So that was encouraging.

Carolina is the third of a tribe of nine kids, aged 9 to 23. It was sad to see her unable to answer questions about her dreams, or what she likes to do or is good at. She seemed to lack direction and purpose. She also mentioned at the start she is not a Christian, despite being in the Project since she was 4, and her family goes to the church attached to the Compassion Project. This stuck with me, and was the catalyst for our powerful farewell.

When we visited Carolina’s house, any delusions I had of being anyone of importance were thrown out the window when the siblings rushed past me out the door on their way to school. I found out that, similar to a couple of the other families I visited, they are about to be removed from their house that they are renting. Where to find a house suitable for 12?

I did my best to engage her by getting out the letters I had sent to her and going through some of the pictures. It was good to see the letters were incredibly well looked after and valued. After more awkward silence, a tour of their very crowded house and a blackout that left us in near darkness, I gave out some gifts. I once again found myself apologising at the smallness of the gifts when compared to the family’s needs.

We went for ice-cream, and I stupidly bought a cone, while the others went for a cup. Predictably, it got messy, and Carolinasaved me from a nasty double-scoop spill by catching it in her hand! What a girl! :) During this time we had a conversation, where Carolinaopened up a bit more. I learned that a major problem in DR is teen pregnancy. Many of Carolina’s friends have gone down that path, but I’m so thankful she hasn’t. God has given her wisdom, and I’m so proud that she has made wise decisions.

Pretty soon it was time for me to leave, but there was one more conversation I wanted to have. I asked her “What is the one thing stopping you from fully giving your life to God?” She couldn’t really answer. She’s so close, but there’s just this barrier in the way. I shared with her my experience. When I left school I was not a Christian and I had no idea what to do with my life – I lacked direction and purpose. As soon as I made the commitment at age 21, God started giving me opportunities and showing me what I should do with my life. That led to Compassion, teaching, music and basketball coaching.

I assured her that God loves her so much, and His plan for her does not involve working for 40 years at a job she absolutely hates. That only happens when people choose to go their own way and make certain decisions in running their own life. I assured her that this decision to invite God in was completely up to her, and as soon as she made it, He would start working in her life.

I then prayed for Carolina, in the name of Jesus. I thanked Him for creating her and for His love for her. I thanked Him for giving her wisdom and asked him to remove that final barrier that is preventing her from committing her life fully to Him. I thanked Him for the future He had for her, and for allowing me to play a part in her life. This was such a powerful time, and was a privilege. I could feel God stirring in her heart, inviting her to come to Him. Carolinawas reduced to tears, and I was pretty close.

I was overwhelmed by God’s love for this young woman, and for the fact that He used my visit to encourage her, to speak words of life to her in person, rather than on a page, and this may even be the thing that “pushes her over the edge” and helps her make the final step of faith to once and for all ask Jesus to be the Lord of her life. I can’t wait to see what happens.

Central/South America Compassion Trip 2013: Visiting Jacqueline (Ecuador)

Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge God and He will direct your paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

For Christians, these words are very well known and we do our best to live by them. But how often do we really trust God WITH ALL OUR HEART or acknowledge Him IN ALL OUR WAYS? I sure as heck don’t as much as I would like. When I was in Ecuador in late January, visiting my Compassion sponsored child Jacqueline, I caught a glimpse of what it really means to trust fully and completely, and I want to share it with you.

I’m so glad I went to Ecuador. When I planned my trip to Central America in January, I wasn’t originally going to include Ecuador, because it was a little bit “out of the way” compared to the other countries I planned to visit. I have been sponsoring 6 year-old Jacqueline for two and a half years, and it was her letters that got me. Here is a sample:

- I would like to meet you because I would like to know you and your toys

- Jacqueline loves you, and for her, the wish to know you is the most beautiful in her life

- She also wonders if you will be able to meet face to face someday

- She wants you to know that she would like to know you in some moment to share with you nice moments

- Do you know something incredible? You are a hero for Jacque, she would like to be like you when she grows up – a great professional. She wants to work with children, and the same as you, to be mature spiritually in faith. Jacque wants that you never get apart from Jesus. Jacque would like to be like you because you follow Jesus Christ’s footprints. Jacque asks God that you come to Ecuador. She wants to see your eyes and tell you she loves you

Alright, alright, I get the hint! So Ecuador was included on the itinerary. I say it again, I’m SO glad I went to Ecuador. It was one of the three days on the trip that I didn’t leave with some sort of heartbreak or negative feeling. And that’s not because her family’s life isn’t hard. They’re a family of seven, about to be turfed out of their house, and the parents jobs are anything but secure.

However, what I found was, because of some of the situations I experienced that wrecked me, God multiplied the impact of the joyous moments. And this day was JOYOUS. I'll admit that the main reason I'm writing this blog is just so I get to relive the day - pure innocence, joy and excitement!

We met in the foyer of my hotel – Jacqueline, her mum, her Project Director and my translator – all women. I’d kind of become used to being surrounded by women by now (and loved it) :). I wasn’t sure what sort of reaction I’d get from Jacqueline, but she turned out to be one of the more affectionate and open of my children, right from the start. I had an 18 year old who didn’t say “boo” and I had a six year old who chatted away.

She was tiny, like a doll, and she squeezed her way into my heart right away. The visit took place on a Saturday, and our first stop was an amusement park in the city of Quito. We loaded up a prepaid card with $40 and off we went. Jacqueline was (to paraphrase Homer) “like a kid in some kind of a store.” For whatever reason, she particularly liked the rides that did nothing but go round and round. We did merry-go-rounds, giant slides, trampolines, mini-pirate ship, even the waste-of-money sideshow games (though on this day, not one cent was wasted).

I was able to go on some rides with her. To be able to share this time with a precious little girl who was enjoying what we consider to be standard childhood experiences for the first time was an amazing privilege, and more than once I got lost in the moment.

During our morning together, Jacqueline was running purely on adrenalin and excitement. Her Mama shared with me that she hadn’t slept very well the previous night, as she was so excited, and I could see her getting gradually more tired. She made it through lunch, then we travelled an hour to her home. During this time, Jacqueline finally succumbed and fell asleep. In my arms.

I cannot describe the significance of that moment. God was showing me His love for Jacqueline and His love for me. This was Proverbs 3:5-6 come to life. To me, falling asleep in someone’s arms is the greatest example of trust we can demonstrate as humans, as we make ourself totally vulnerable, and our lives are completely in the other person’s hands. Jacqueline was showing me that she trusted me with all her heart, and God was whispering to me “This is how I want my people to trust me.” Lesson learned.

Trust is something that takes a long time to earn, but only a moment to lose. Every day I am thankful for the people God has entrusted to me to educate, encourage and love – my class, my nieces and nephews, and my Compassion kids. It is equally a privilege and a responsibility, one that I don’t take lightly.

Central/South America Compassion Trip 2013: Visiting Antonio (Nicaragua)

The Turning Point

Antonio. This 8 year old kid was full of life. Chatty, talkative, animated. We hung out at the church for a while, drank coke, played with my Australian football.

In contrast, I noticed his mother, who looked so young and was nursing a brand new baby, didn’t say a word. Even in our conversations she almost had to be prompted. I sensed much sadness and loneliness in her life.

I took Antonio, his cousin and a few other relatives out to a chicken restaurant for lunch and they continued to talk, and talk, and sing, and talk. We had a ball. Then it was time for the home visits.

Visiting the homes of my Compassion kids was always confronting. The realities of poverty were right there, there was no hiding from it. I was always received with hospitality and they were always welcoming, but because I have invested so much in these families, it hurt my guts to see the way they lived and the lack of opportunities they faced.

Antonio’s home visit was probably the hardest I have done. It was The Turning Point, as I have entitled this blog. The house was nothing more than a brick box. Dirt floor, holes in the roof. One bedroom. No privacy for this woman with an 8 year old and a new baby.

We sat around and chatted for a while. The conversation was driven by the Project workers, since I was lost for words, taking in everything around me, and still sensing Mama’s sadness and shyness. We got Antonio talking, showed him some pictures, gave him some gifts. When I do a home visit, I can normally ask to take photos of the house, even when I’m thinking “How do they live like this, day after day?” Today I couldn’t do it. It just didn’t feel right.

I learned that Mama was 23, so she was just 15 when she had Antonio. Antonio’s father left just after he was born, and she now had a husband, who was as young, if not younger than she was. He scratches an income selling newspapers at the local market.

The Turning Point came when we ventured out into the backyard, and I use that term loosely. It was a dump, with a cinder block out in the open for a toilet.

At this point, everything that had been building up inside me as I learned about their reality came crashing down. I felt the full force of their despair, their hopelessness. I could not move. I had no words.

After a couple of minutes I managed to speak: “Jesus. Jesus.” Over and over again, that was all I could say.

The next few minutes were holy, sacred and powerful. I did the only thing I could think of. I held this beautiful young woman and I prayed for her. I lifted her up to God. God gave me the words, and He gave me the strength to say them. Mama was overcome. Her brokenness was evident, but as I prayed, I could feel her responding and crying out to God in her spirit.



The Bible says God’s strength and power is made perfect in our weakness, and it was certainly true on this day. This was “The Turning Point” because God helped me to truely realise that without Him we have nothing. I guess I knew this in theory, but my wealth, prosperity, abundance, self-reliance and self-sufficiency prevented me from knowing it fully.

People who are materially poor know what it is to depend on God and trust Him completely. They have to. This is a great example to me, and I know God wanted me to see all these things for this exact reason.

I want to live a life that demonstrates complete trust, dependence and reliance on God, which is one of the reasons I am headed to serve Him in the Philippines. I don’t want material possessions or a life of comfort or ease to stand in the way of my relationship with God, so I am giving it up to pursue what I believe He has created me to do.

Postscript: As heartbreaking as this day with Antonio and his family was, God has put two sparkles of blessing in their lives: Compassion and Antonio’s grandmother.
Without Compassion, Antonio wouldn’t have regular food, clean water, education or medical care.
Even though Antonio’s father left, his grandmother stayed. I was inspired by the love Antonio’s grandmother has for him, even though technically she has no obligation to. Love of God in action.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Visiting Katherine (El Salvador)

Poverty of Family and Hope for the Future

I saw true courage today. The courage of a Mama trying to hold her marriage together for the sake of her children and future generations. The courage of a couple sharing their struggles so personally with someone they just met. I also displayed courage today. The courage to ask hard questions of a woman I’d just met, not knowing how or if she’d respond. The result of this courage was that I now know this family on a whole new level and I’m starting to get a true picture of just how significant a sponsor is, not just to the child, but to the family.

At breakfast, my Compassion host and translator Jorge shared with me some interesting things about poverty in El Salvador. While the physical poverty is evident everywhere, the deeper issue is “poverty of family”. Marriages everywhere are breaking down, and as a result the children do not feel secure, safe or loved. This goes on for generations. I took it on board and stored it in the memory bank.

Little did I know I would soon be face-to-face with this “poverty of family” in an incredibly personal way.

I have been sponsoring 6 year-old Katherine for a year. She’s one of the newer additions to my Compassion family. Katherine lives with Mama, Papa and Older Bro (11) in the east of El Salvador.

Today’s visit was going to be short, due to having to drive three and a half hours back to San Salvadorto catch a plane. Therefore I wanted to make every minute count. I had to quickly catch and destroy my local “Negative Attitude Monster” when we didn’t get to the Project until 9.30am.

Katherine's Project has been operating for five years. They started with 150 kids, and now have 266, aged 3-14. The Project Director is a friendly young guy who loves what he does and clearly has the respect of the children and families.

I was welcomed by a relatively small contingent of children in the church, since it was a school day. This didn’t matter one bit, as I still felt very loved and accepted. They had stuck red, white and blue streamers and balloons around the place (seems to be a common theme), and had “Very Welcome Mr David Chalmers” projected onto a wall.

I met Katherine, and she presented me with a foam square painted like the Australian flag, with outlines of her hands on the back. Some children recited Bible memory verses, then I introduced myself, taught them to say “G'day Australia” as well as jump like a kangaroo and sleep like a koala. They invited me to get on the drums (to which I never say no), so I had a quick bash while they clapped along. A little guy who would have been 9 or 10 also got on the drums and did a very good job.

We then went on a quick tour of the Project and met kids and staff. There was a lot of construction and extension work going on, which indicates growth. The staff told me a bit about the programs run by this particular Project. I’ve found it interesting how each Project has a different “focus” in terms of the activities, skills or workshops offered. This Project has three main workshops, aimed at giving kids income-generating skills for the future: bakery, computer class and “electricity” was how the third one was translated to me. I can only assume it’s to do with basic engineering or fixing things.

The next stop was Katherine’s home. I was pleased to hear that the neighbourhood is considered very safe, and they have no real problems with gangs. In the house they have a front living area with a large hammock stretched across it. There is one bedroom, and the “kitchen” is outside, what we might call the “back verandah” or “patio”. Except it’s definitely not a patio. The roof is made from iron sheets, held down with rocks and whatever other heavy-ish objects they can find. The backyard is a courtyard filled with crud, and shared with three or four other houses. There are two “toilets” to share. These are basically hollowed-out concrete blocks, which are raised up in order to be able to sit on them. I don’t recall seeing a door in front of either toilet. They have running water, but it’s incredibly unreliable. When we visited, they hadn’t had water for 2 DAYS! When I heard that I thanked God that both kids are registered and sponsored through Compassion.

Papa was not there when I visited. He earns $175 a month working as a cleaner/security guy at the local school, where Katherine is about to start First Grade. There’s a bit of symmetry there, since I am also about to starting teaching First Grade. I understand Mama does not contribute financially to the family at the moment, but she told me she sometimes makes and sells tortillas.

For lunch, Katherine chose Pollo Compestre, which is the El Salvador version of Pollo Campero (from Guatemala, but in El Salv also). Every three months the Project takes the kids there for birthday celebrations. On the way there we did something that wasn’t in the schedule, but turned out to be incredibly significant. We stopped at the school to meet and talk to Papa. We met outside the front gate, which he initially left open. In no time, half a dozen faces had appeared and he motioned for them to get back inside. Apparently some of the students like to try and escape, so, seeing the open gate, thought they’d seize their opportunity. Papa is in his mid-30s, and seems like a nice guy, though I can imagine him being quite intimidating if you got on the wrong side of him.

We talked about his job, and then asked for prayer requests for the family. The reply came “Please pray for my family. My wife and I sometimes fight.” I was taken aback by, but appreciated, his honesty, and made sure I told him this. Later, as we were sitting in the children’s area of Pollo Campestre, I wondered how I was going to follow this up with Mama, or even if I should.

Lunch was okay (not as good as Pollo Campero). We traded questions and the conversation flowed. Mama was beautiful and engaging. I asked Older Bro some questions and found out that he is in 6^th Grade, wants to be a professional football player (who doesn’t?) and his favourite player is Lionel Messi (not a bad choice). He has sponsors from the US, who he hears from regularly. I gave him the Australian football to have a look at, and told him a bit about the game. They mistakenly thought I was giving it to him to keep, and later on put it in their bag to take with them. I had to sheepishly retrieve it. I then gave out gifts to the family, and I’m pretty sure the other patrons of the children’s area of Pollo Campestre were wondering what was going on at our table, and where they could get a necklace, teddy bear, Australian flag and snowglobe, among other things.

Mama started talking about her relationship with her husband. They got together 13 years ago, when she was at school. She was selling bread at the same time, to raise enough money to keep going to school. She said she always knew, when school finished “The bread was waiting.” Papa laid eyes on her and it was “love at first sight.” Ah yes, that old chestnut. He did not attend the school, but would go in just to see her. They are together 13 years later, but one gets the sense all is not well.

Finally, when the two kids were off playing, those remaining at the table were Mama and three males. Me, Jorge (host) and the Project Director. I decided to ask the question.
“Your husband said that you and he fight a bit. Can I ask what you fight about?”
"He’s seeing another woman.”
Silence. Me: “But he’s married to you?”
”Yes.”
Me: Baffled silence. Then: “I’m just trying to understand how that works.”
This was “poverty of family" come alive right before my eyes.

Questions go round in the head. Scenarios, solutions. The reality that she couldn’t really leave him at this point even if she wanted to (not that that would be the solution), because he’s the one financially contributing to the family, and selling tortillas is not going to provide for two children.

I look at Mama. She is strong, patient and understanding. I would also add brave and courageous for sharing it with us. Three males, two of whom she’s only just met.
But it’s a testimony to the trust she has in the Project Director, who’s built a relationship with the family over the five years they’ve been involved with the Compassion Project.
It’s a testimony to the trust she has in me, her daughter’s sponsor, who speaks words of love and encouragement into her life, and loves them enough to travel halfway round the world to see them and BE WITH them.
It’s a testimony to her trust in Jorge, who has been much more than a translator for me. He also considers himself to be an advocate for Compassion, and does a standout job of connecting with families he’s just met.

“I am fighting for my marriage for the sake of my children; setting an example for them.” I learned that Mama’s parents were in the same situation. This “poverty of family” is a generational thing in El Salvador, but Mama is determined it will stop here.

With God’s help and Compassion’s support, it can. But there is one more step they need to take. Older Bro listed his favourite Project activity as “learning about God”. Katherine, being a life-loving, enthusiastic six-year-old, loves everything about the Project, especially the God-stuff – singing songs and learning the Bible. However, neither Mama or Papa have fully committed themselves to the church or to Jesus. Yet. That is the Great Unknown. Or, depending on how you look at it, with their two kids being cared for like they are with Compassion, the Great Inevitable.

I’m not suggesting that by becoming Christians all their marriage problems will instantly disappear. Being “perpetually single”, I’m no expert on marriage, but I’m pretty safe in saying that marriage requires hard work on both sides. Papa has a decision to make in regards to committing completely to his wife.

However, the first thing I thought of when I got in the car after saying goodbye was the incredible contrast between the two families I visited in the last two days. Both families live in El Salvador. Both families have children sponsored and supported through Compassion. Both families are in economical and living situations which are not real flash (hooray for understatements).

Here’s the difference: In Rosa’s home (the one visit so far where I have gone away with my heart completely full and joyous) I felt love, joy, peace, dreams, positive ambitions and contentment. This is due to one simple fact: They are a committed Christian family with a incredible faith and trust in God to provide for them, and are part of a church community. That’s where their Hope lies.

And that’s what I believe is missing from Katherine’s family. Mama and Papa both love their kids, but when the marriage is not strong, the family disintegrates. And trying to fix broken relationships is the sort of problem that if you try in your own strength, you will fail. If they really want to solve their conflicts in a way that won’t lead to a continuation of the “poverty of family”, they need to commit their lives, marriage and family to Jesus.

If I had not come to visit, I would not have known any of this. In such a short time, we went deep. I had the courage to ask hard questions, and Mama had the courage to answer them. I am now better equipped to pray, and trust that God will work in the lives of the family. The final decision lies with them.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Re-Visiting Rosa (El Salvador)

Excuse the hyperbole, but today was sent to me straight from heaven! In contrast to some of my other blog posts, it's vast-majority "sweetness and light" today, folks.

In 2007 I started sponsoring 7-year-old Rosa and in 2009 I ventured over to Chinameca, El Salvador to visit her and her family when she was a shy 9-year-old. This visit was actually the “kick-up-the-bum” I needed to stop being a “dead-beat-sponsor” (one that only sends money) and start writing regular letters, because that’s what the kids really need and want. I could see how disappointed she was that I had only written a few letters, so I resolved to change, and now write monthly to my many Compassion kids.

Rosa has a Mama, Papa, Older Sis (18), Twin Sis and Younger Bro (10). Unfortunately Older Sis couldn’t be with us. Papa told us she had really been looking forward to seeing me again, but she had received the call at 9pm the previous night to go and work at the little shop which is her place of employment. Older Sis was never sponsored, but has ambitions to have a career, and she is using this job to try and pay her way through University.

Normally on a sponsor visit the Project is the first stop, but since today was the first day of school for the year and there was no Project action in the morning, we went to the family’s house first. It was interesting going back a second time. A lot of the conversation revolved around what had happened in the last three years, for both of us, and what had changed. We reminisced over what we remembered about the last visit. The family knew a lot about me, because they are very interested in my letters.

I still learned some new things about the family today. I learned the kids have to get up really early to get to school (which starts at 7.30) because there’s 49 kids in Rosa’s class, and if they get there late they get a seat up the back, and can’t hear very well. The kids all have dreams related to the medical profession (doctor, nurse, clinical lab technician), and are currently achieving good grades. Rosa and her sister have only just started 7^th grade, but the family is already talking LDP(Leadership Development Program, in which a select group of Compassion-sponsored kids are then sponsored through College and raised up to become Christian leaders of their communities and countries).

Rosa’s parents make money by making and selling a traditional drink called Horchata. The recipe has been passed down through the family, and it is indeed a “family business”. When the kids aren’t at school or the Compassion Project they help their parents sell it. They spend all morning preparing it, go out on the streets with a couple of buckets full, and sell it in plastic bags. On a good day in the warm weather they make $20. In the cooler weather, they don’t make much. Mama has a couple of other job options for lean times, such as cleaning houses or helping make and sell a traditional El Salvador food called pupusas (I had three today, and they were delish!). The family’s house is adequate, and belonged to their parents, so they are blessed to not have to pay any rent.

The ambition, optimism and dreams of this family is mind-blowing and breathtaking considering their circumstances, but it comes purely and simply from their unshakeable contentment, joy, faith and trust in Jesus. I felt so blessed to be connected to this family. Papa took us out the back and showed us the process for making horchata. The family’s menagerie of animals was still there from last time: a cat, a couple of dogs, some chickens, a green Australian parrot…

After a wonderful conversation, gift giving and recreating the family photo out the front of the house, we headed out to San Miguel for some lunch. I received some respite from Pollo Campero (not that I need it) because Rosa likes pizza, so just like the first visit we went to Pizza Hut. After lunch it was time to visit the Project – ES718.

Project visits are always a joy, and this was no exception. Last time I was here it was El Salvador Children’s Day, so things were quite chaotic, with piñatas and lollies flying everywhere. Today was a lot more relaxed. We were greeted with the children in a guard of honour, some holding red, blue and white streamers. We went upstairs to a big room, where they welcomed me, I introduced myself and showed them the Australian football, they sang a couple of songs to me, and I played “Blessed Be Your Name” and “Open the Eyes of My Heart” on an unfortunately out-of-tune guitar. After this it was off to their classes.

Rosa and Twin Sis are nearly 13, and are into things most girls that age are into. The Project offers a Cosmetology workshop (hair, nails, manicures, pedicures etc.) for the girls, and I understand some of the girls who have done it in the past have gone to earn an income out of it. So part of what Compassion is offer the kids (and often the parents) income-generating skills to help lift themselves out of poverty.

In a very special time, I was able to meet and talk to the group of girls, aged 13-15 doing the cosmetology workshop. We traded questions and answers, and of course the question came up about whether I was married or had a girlfriend. Answer: No. Moving on, thanks… I was privileged to be able to lift up this group of girls to God, and pray for them on behalf of their sponsors. We went around the circle and they shared prayer requests. Most of them kept it fairly basic, but I was honoured that they’d only just met me but were willing to share things that were happening in their lives. I prayed about their families, friends, studies, sponsors, and that they would make wise decisions about their lives as they got older.

After this was play time. We went out on the street, kicked the footy and the soccer ball, jumped a skipping rope and had races. I did much more than my knees were happy with. We finished with a special time of eating pupusas (and too much orange drink) with just Rosa’s family a couple of the Project staff. The Project staff shared about just what an impact the sponsors have on their children, particularly through the letters and visits. I’m continually amazed at the reaction I get from kids who don’t even know me, who speak a different language, and who I would have thought may be a little bit scared of this bald, bearded guy. They just love having a sponsor there, and it doesn’t matter if it’s their sponsor or not. That’s how much it means to them.   

I was also honoured to be able to pray for and encourage each family member and the Project workers who were there. I will never cease to be amazed and inspired by Compassion Project workers. Every person who works for Compassion is an incredible servant of God and their stories need to be told. They give their lives for the kids and their families, in the name of bringing them the love of Jesus...

Because the driver, Jorge my translator and I are staying in San Miguel, I was able to spend more time with the family and didn’t have to rush off. We ended up leaving at 5.00, which made for a tiring, but incredibly rewarding and positive day.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Compassion Guatemala - An Inside Look

Before I left Guatemala, I had the privilege of visiting the Compassion Guatemala office in Guatemala City. It was a fantastic opportunity to look behind the scenes and meet people involved in making Compassion such a godly and amazing organisation to be part of. It was Friday afternoon, but everyone was friendly and willing to talk to me. I met:
- Facilitators
- Medical people
- IT people
- Finance people
- Admin people
- People who translate and process the letters
- People who organise trips and tours
- A couple of staff who used to be sponsored kids and are now working for the very organisation who gave them a hope and a future (LOVE those stories) :)

Every one of these people are professionals who could be getting more money/recognition/status etc if they worked elsewhere. Instead they choose to spend their lives serving God and helping the children of Guatemala by working with Compassion.

I even met the boss of Compassion Guatemala, Jose Carlos. It says something about him that he was still in the office at 3.00pm on Friday arvo : )

He showed me a giant map of Guatemalaon his wall, and on it were little magnets of different colours. They represented every Child Development Project in the country, the Project number and who was in charge of it.

My favourite story he shared was about the Project GU400, which is where my Josefa attends. Each Project has a special name, and the staff of GU-400 wanted to call theirs the “Rain of Blessings” project. The reason for this is simple. Every month, all the staff of that Project go to the nearby Santa Maria volcano, and they pray. They pray for the children and their families, the sponsors and the country of Guatemala. They do not publicise or advertise that they do this. Since they have been doing this, every month at least one child from the Project receives a family gift, or a visit, or something extra from their sponsors, above and beyond the usual $11 a week.

Rain of Blessings indeed.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Visiting Mayra (Guatemala City Zoo) - Lessons Learned, Attitudes Adjusted

I had really hoped today would be an easy day. After all, I wouldn’t be going to see Mayra’s house or community, so she could just forget her troubles, and we could enjoy ourselves and have a great day. No deal-i-o. I was humbled today. As in “brought down”. Lessons were learned and attitudes were adjusted. After five child visits in which I was the “main attraction”, and all the kids responded well to me and were animated and affectionate, today I took a back seat to “the occasion” (sorry for the constant use of quotation marks).

10-year-old Mayra and her family of mum, dad and seven children live 300km to the north of Guatemala City, and for some reason it takes 9 hours by car. So it was decided that rather than go all that way to visit her house and community, it would be better to bring her and her father to Guat City, and we’d have a few hours at the zoo, as a special treat.

When we met, I could tell Mayra was a troubled child, and her life is hard. She was tired, cold, nervous, overwhelmed and scared. She had no eye contact, no smile, no response. Even though she knew I was her sponsor, all she saw was this strange white guy speaking a strange language, wearing t-shirt and shorts in the cold weather, flashing around a big fat wallet and fancy phone (hey, I had to pay and take pics).

Spanish isn’t her family’s first language. They are Mayan, and they speak Q’eqchi, so that made Big Mayra’s (my translator) job a fair bit harder. I could tell this day was not going to live up to “my expectations” (like it’s about me anyway?).

Neither Mayra nor her father had ever been to the zoo before. She wandered around and stared in awed silence as she saw every imaginable animal up close for the first time. I kept my distance during this time. Whereas the other kids would reach for my hand or put their arm around me, there were no such movements from Mayra.
  
Big Mayra did a great job of moving things along so we made the most of every minute. There were lions, tigers, bears, elephants, giraffes, meerkats, monkeys, giant beavers, many kinds of birds, even an Australian section with kangaroos, wallabies and emus.   

There was also a section of the park with rides, including a couple of rollercoasters, giant slide, trampolines and kiddie rides. I took her on the mini-rollercoaster and the giant slide, doing my best to coax or cajole some visible reaction of enthusiasm and joy out of her. While I’m sure she enjoyed herself, she didn’t show it on the outside.

At this point the attitude insidiously crept in – the disgusting, self-righteous attitude that silently demands grovelling displays of thankfulness and gratitude for a good deed done, and judges and points fingers when none is forthcoming “I’m doing all this for them, but….” I felt sick and quickly moved on from those thoughts.

After the incredible rollercoaster that was the first five child visits, I thought maybe being away from Mayra’s home and community may mean I wouldn’t have to confront the harshness of her life and reality. I was incorrect. The zoo and the city are obviously so far removed from their reality, and both Mayra and her father were clearly in culture shock. During the day details of their lives came out in brief little tidbits, and the more I heard, the happier I was that I didn’t drive nine hours to see it. Just being brutally honest there.

Mayra’s father told me his wife would have liked to come, but someone had to be at home otherwise their house would be broken into and people would take their stuff. They can’t even leave their house vacant without fear of being robbed! Many houses in their community don’t have proper floors, walls or beds. Mayra’s father shared he has trouble affording to send her to school.

I was told in many Mayan communities women are still devalued and considered inferior, which would explain Mayra’s demeanour – only speaking when spoken to and even then in one or two words, always looking to the ground. I only saw one or two smiles the whole day, and even then it seemed like a real effort for her, like it wasn’t a practised skill. In all honesty, from the little bit I heard of what her life is like, I don’t think she has many reasons to smile.

There was a Pollo Campero at the Park (three times in three days!) so we shared lunch and then I gave Mayra some gifts for her and her family. The necklace with the “Jesus” fish was quite fitting, because of the little I learned of the family, He is the only hope they have.

There were a lot of unknowns and unanswered questions from our day today. We didn’t really connect or engage. Was it a worthwhile exercise? So they’ve had a day at a zoo, now they go back to their same struggles and harsh reality, of which I still know very little, mainly because I was trying hard to not have to find out, after yesterday. So that’s my loss, I guess.

Mayra’s father and Project director were both very grateful, and expressed their gratitude several times. When we prayed, I left Mayra with “The Blessing” from the book of Numbers: May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.     

I learned from Big Mayra after we had left the park that Mayra’s father had asked her to ask me for money to help his family. She wisely chose not to raise that issue with me in front of them. This “direct canvassing” is strictly against Compassion’s policies, and for good reason. I kind of felt awkward when I realised he had asked this and then been watching me shell out the cash for their transport and accommodation.

How do tie this up? I guess the reality check for me from today is that just because you invest in people, care for them and show them extravagant love, this doesn’t mean they will always react the way you want or expect. That’s part of being human and part of being in relationship with others. Grace, mercy and patience are needed.

This reminds me of God’s love for us. Imagine if he got grumpy every time we didn’t respond to His limitless acts of love for us? There would be no-one left! We then, need to treat others the same.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Visiting Yeymi (Guatemala) - "This stuff doesn't happen to people I know"...

What I saw and heard today was surreal. I remember thinking repeatedly: "This doesn't happen to me or people I know." The details in this post are all real. They are all true. They happened to me a matter of hours ago. I hope you are inspired, encouraged and challenged.
Sponsoring a child is a good thing. Today I found out that you can never underestimate the importance of a sponsor in a child’s life, and that’s the way God designed it.

Often you don’t find this out for real until you make the decision to go beyond the “face on the fridge and monthly bill” stage. When you start writing regular letters, the child trusts you more and gradually opens up, and you find out more.

When you go even further and choose to enter their world by visiting their home, school and environment, all sorts of things can open up and be discovered, and often it gets very messy. It is a scary but exhilarating place to be, and you realise that for all “we” are doing as sponsors, the reality is that only God can bring them true freedom, hope and joy.

Today it got messy for me. I visited 10-year-old Yeymi in Guatemala. I also met her 3 sisters, aged 15, 13 and 8. I have been investing in Yeymi’s life for two years now. I was very happy to hear that all the other kids are jealous of her because of all the letters and pictures she gets. Not in a prideful way, of course. It just vindicates the efforts I make to write all my kids once a month, because they are so important in encouraging the child that someone loves them, and they are special and valued.

Another tiny tear to my heart came when Yeymi said that she considers me to be like her Papa. She does have a father, but he’s two-and-a-half hours away in Guatemala City during the week, every week working in “construction”, sometimes earning 40 Quetzales ($5) a day.

During the visit to the house, which is owned by Yemi’s grandmother, I was given information that was like pieces of a disturbing jigsaw puzzle, which I didn’t put together until later. They have three rooms in their house which are used as bedrooms. They have some uncles that sleep in one room. All four sisters sleep in another room, in the one bed.

They have a third room – the “guest room” which is relatively well fitted out with a decent sized bed and mosquito net. We asked why a couple of the sisters didn’t sleep in this room. All they replied is “We are afraid of being alone.” Yeymi also showed me boxes of clothes in this room that belong to each member of her family. I found out later that these are the only things the family owns – the clothes on their backs.
We met all sorts of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents (Yeymi’s abeula is 55, but looks about 70) as well as her GREAT-grandparents, who have been married 61 years, and are still working, feeding and looking after 3000 chickens.

Yeymi’s Mama asked if we could give her a lift to Guatemala City when we left after lunch. I was puzzled and asked why. Turns out every two weeks she joins her husband when he goes off to work in Guat City for the week, and leaves her four daughters in the care of their grandmother. I didn’t delve any further at that point, and agreed to take her.

For lunch I took 11 family members from four generations to lunch at Pollo Campero (“chicken country”), including the grandma and the great-grandmother. The only males in our group were me and a three-year-old cousin. It would have looked quite a funny sight.

We said our goodbyes and my translator/lifesaver Mayra, Mama and I headed on our two-and-a-half hour journey to Guatemala City. We started off in silence, and when I tentatively started our conversation, I could not imagine where it would lead. This is what I found out.

Mama is about to turn 30, and her husband is 32. I am smack-bang in between them at 31, yet there could not be a greater chasm between our lives. They were married when she was 14 and he was 16, Mama was 15 when their oldest daughter was born. Mama did not finish school and has never worked. When she joins her husband every two weeks in Guat City, all they can afford to rent is a single room, and she does not work because “she does not know her way around”. From what Mama said, all she does is cook for him.

Meanwhile, four girls are without their Papa for five days of the week, and without their Mama for every second week, being looked after by their grandmother, with no male figure to protect them. The comments about me being like Yeymi’s Papa and the girls being afraid of being alone were starting to make sense, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

However, worse was to come. Eight months ago, the family was living in their own house. At one point, while Mama was in the city with her husband, her uncle, who is an alcoholic and a “bad man”, came into the family’s house when no-one was there, over a period of days, and stole all the family’s belongings. Everything. Even the kitchen sink, and he tried to take the doors off the hinges! I could not believe what I was hearing. Mama said that neighbours saw him taking things every day, but did not do or say anything to stop him. He was only discovered by Papa’s brother, but by then everything was taken.

They had no choice but to move in with Yeymi’s grandmother, which is where they are now. So this precious family of six owns nothing in the world but a box of clothes, and if the grandmother dies, they will be forced to rely on the mercy of family members to stay in the house. Otherwise….

Fair to say I was shellshocked. I’d only ever heard of situations like this in the Compassion magazine, or some documentary, but this was happening to my flesh and blood. We have been connected for two years through sponsorship – love, encouragement, letters and money and now God had brought us together to meet in person. Mayra, who works for Compassion was also almost in tears as she translated the sorry tale. Fortunately, Visit Hosts write a report of each visit, and any areas of concern, so she has the authority to intercede in this situation.

I am writing this only a matter of hours after experiencing it, and I'm wrecked in heart, mind and spirit, but God has given me a clarity of mind to be able to communicate it pretty succinctly (if I say so myself).

To challenge you, particularly if you are a sponsor at the “face on the fridge and monthly bill” stage. It takes courage to move beyond this. But if you do, you will more clearly see the heart of God for His prized creation – people! It is a relationship – a two-way thing. Children want their parents and sponsors to be involved in their lives. A good start is writing regular letters. Your children NEED to hear from you, even the smallest thing. In many cases you are like a parent to them, and the only positive person in their life.  

The danger of staying in the “face on the fridge and monthly bill” stage is that you can become comfortable that you are “doing a good thing” and leave it at that. It can become about you. I have now visited 18 of my Compassion children and the one thing I can tell you is that in my own strength I alone am completely inadequate for the job of “releasing children from poverty in Jesus name.” It is God alone who can release them and give them joy, hope, freedom and an opportunity to dream, despite their circumstances. I am merely an instrument He is using to show these precious people His love for them. There is nothing I’d rather be doing.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Visiting Josefa (Guatemala)

The first stop on my whistle-stop tour of Guatemala was 14 year-old Josefa. As usual, to get there required a three hour trip, from Guatemala City to just outside Quetzaltenango, in the west of the country. The journey was an eye-opener, and I drank everything in. We were deep in the mountains, and passed a volcano or two. The beauty was breathtaking, but I’m sure that it’s little consolation to the hundreds of people we passed who were just aimlessly standing by the side of the road, or ekeing out a measly existence selling random stuff at roadside stalls.

In Australia, when we see people walking or driving, the likelihood is that they have a purpose in where they’re going; that they have something important to do or somewhere important to be. That’s not the sense I got on this trip. We were in the middle of nowhere, in the mountains of Guatemala, far from the nearest large town. It made me think about those people: the old man with a bunch of sticks on his back, the woman with a baby wheeling a bicycle. What were they doing? What did their day ahead look like, and what did they see their future being like?

We finally arrived at Josefa’s community. Her family and the community is Mayan, so the clothing was extravagant, colourful and beautiful. I met Josefa and her family at the Compassion Project (Mama, Papa, two younger brothers, two younger sisters) and they presented me with a traditional Guatemalan men’s top, which I put on to honour them despite the stifling humidity. I would also get one the next day from Yeymi’s family – starting a collection.

There was nothing happening at that time because it was morning and the kids were at school. They would be back in the afternoon. We had a tour, and I would say it was one of the least resourced Projects I have seen, which is an indication of the status of the community. There were leaks, and the place wears the battle scars of earthquakes. However, I talked to some of the Project workers, saw the cupboards full of student records, immunisations etc, and I knew that God’s love was in that place. They are doing the best they can with what they have.

While we were there, a parade went past. I was told the Catholics celebrate a different saint each year, and this year the parade was in honour of "The Black Christ" (whatever the heck that is). The dancers wore masks which were quite macabre and creepy. People are also into self-flagellation, crawling to the church on their hands and knees from a long way away. The music was funky though :)

We walked to visit their extended family, which was an experience. It was the main street of the neighbourhood. We dodged the scary-masked dancers, cars, trucks, bikes and buses, and on the way back school had just finished, so we passed hordes of kids looking at me strangely. This was because I was wearing the traditional Guatemalan top that Josefa's family had presented me with, and probably didn't look much like a Guatemalan. I met Josefa's grandparents, aunts and uncles, and saw where they and her father eke out their income, making garments and selling them. Despite their circumstances, they were quietly content and joyful, and welcomed me into their home.

We then went back to the family's house and had a tour. I presented gifts and taught them about Australian football. I kept asking Josefa about how she helps around the house. Does she help in the kitchen? Does she help looking after her baby brother? The reply to both was “A little bit, but I don’t have time". I was appalled to discover the reason for that: Josefa and her 12-year-old brother both have to work 36 hours a week making men’s shoes, just to help the family and be able to afford to go to school. Somethin' ain't right with this world!

Josefa dreams of being a doctor. When I was at the Project, I saw Josefa’s school results. She is in either 8^th or 9^th grade, and her results aren’t that flash. I would “bet the farm” that those poor results would have something to do with having to work 6am – 12pm six days a week before going to school.

I just realised, some of you might be reading my accounts of my Compassion children’s lives, and be thinking “Gee whiz, he’s painting a pretty grim picture here. Where does this Compassion business fit in, and how does it help them?”

For all my advocacy with Compassion, I’m not for a moment pretending that it’s a miraculous quick fix. Poverty is disgusting and is not easily solved. What Compassion does is come alongside the family and supports them, in a long-term strategy for the family to lift themselves out of poverty. Compassion assists with (doesn’t pay ALL) costs associated with the child and family’s medical, educational, nutritional and spiritual well-being. It provides them with a sponsor in a far-away country, to come alongside them and offer words of encouragement, hope and love.

The Compassion Projects, or Child Development Centres, are often the only places where children feel safe, loved and valued. It’s often the only place they get a decent meal. The Project workers are almost all volunteers, and they literally give their lives for these children and their families, because they are sharing the love of Jesus with them. They partner with local churches, which gives the family a community to support and love them. Compassion spiel over, and I hope that clears it up somewhat.

For lunch I took the whole crew to Pollo Campero ("chicken country") where you can "Enjoy, Dream and Jump", and then we came back to the Project to meet the kids. We went around to each classroom, I introduced myself and took questions from the kids. The reaction varied from class to class. Some were wide-eyed and silent, staring at this big, white, bald, smiley stranger speaking a weird language, holding a weird red egg-shaped ball, and they didn’t know what to think. Others were jumping out of their skin to ask questions, and enjoyed having me in there. I made sure to encourage them that God loves them, and I was happy they were there in the Project where they could feel safe and loved.

The goodbye was gut-wrenching. We were going to do it out in the street in front of all the Project kids, but I wanted to do it privately, just in case I cried (I did). Josefa was incredibly affectionate. She was by my side the whole day, and was distraught at the end. I spent five minutes just consoling her while she sobbed. That will never leave me. The older kids have a different sense of how significant a visit from their sponsor is. Praying with these families is an incredibly holy experience, and the inadequacy that I feel is ever-present. But I was able to speak Words of Life over this precious family, and leave them in His hands.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Visiting Olga (MX)

"Worlds of Poverty and Wealth Collide"

Today was a day of heartache and incredible joy. Massive contrasts. The worlds of wealth and poverty did not just collide today, they exploded in my face, and my head and heart are confused. I’m not pretending that I’m the first person to struggle with this, and I certainly won’t be the last, but I’m no longer some idealist/bleeding-heart/do-gooder whose only knowledge of the inequality in the world is theoretical by nature.  

By golly, it became real to me today.

I have been investing in Olga’s life through Compassion sponsorship for two years. She is a tiny ten-year-old, and is one of 8 siblings aged 6 to 20. I only met two of them today because it was a normal school/work day. This meant there was no action at the Project either. We met at the Project, had a tour of the rooms and the church, and I “showed off” on the drums. We then had an incredibly moving time where several songs were exchanged. I sang to Olga, Olga sang to me and Olga’s father sang to me as well. I know I repeat this a fair bit, but their gratitude for my support and for the impact that God and Compassion have had on their lives was heartfelt and genuine.

Olga has a mum and a dad who love their kids very much, but struggle to provide for them. I was not expecting to see that their house only had two and a half walls around it. The front wall is only partly completed and one of the sides of the house has wire fencing instead of a wall. It is basically made of sticks. They have one bedroom for 10 people. They do not have running water in their house and bottled water is very expensive. There are lots of chickens and dogs running around in the yard. Photos of me and my family were featured prominently outside the bedroom.  

Olga’s dad works as a motor-taxi rider and a fisherman, and spends most of his income paying it off. He also often gives free rides to the kids from the Compassion project who cannot get there any other way. I know God will bless this selfless act. He very generously rode me, my translator Irma, Olga and his wife around the neighbourhood and showed us the nearby beach. What a sight that must have been for the neighbours.

The parents show an incredible defiant faith in God that flies in the face of their circumstances, and their gratitude brought me to my knees. I met the oldest daughter, who is 20, and the second son, who is 16. The others were at work or school. The older ones choose not to go to church, and aren’t Christians as far as I’m aware. I know Mama and Papa fervently pray for their kids, and I know God hears them.
In complete contrast to what I had just witnessed of Olga’s home life, in the afternoon we toddled off to a shopping mall in Tapachula, a large town about 30 minutes away. Just your everyday, standard mall in our part of the world. Having just visited the family's house and seen how they live (remember: two and a half walls) this was culture shock for me beyond anything I had experienced. It was Olga and Mama's first time at the mall. When we got there we went on one of those little trains that goes around the mall and toots people to get out of the way. It was funny seeing a young Mexican hombre greeting his mates with cool-dude high fives as he drove a little tooting train around.

The little train trip was a mixture of funny and sobering moments. It was an eye-opener, for me as well as Mama and Olga. I watched them take it all in, and my heart broke. I struggled to reconcile the two worlds I had been a part of, so close together. They were seeing people just like them, who lived only a short car ride away, but may as well have been from another planet. I wondered what was going through Mama's head as we travelled past Walmart, jewellery shops, shoe shops, food shops and others, selling everything imaginable in unimaginable quantities.

After having some Dominos pizza, we went to Playland Circus, which is your everyday-average amusement game joint. I have to admit I initially wondered about taking them to a place like this, as I consider them to be an over-priced frivolous waste of money. However, on this occasion I can say I was very, very wrong. I had a couple of WINS today as a result of being a clueless gringo who had come all the way from Australia. One was that I got to join Olga on the massive bouncy castle. Initially she was the only one on, and you could see her enthusiasm waning after about two minutes. My translator Irma managed to convince the guy to let me on, and the transformation in her demeanour was incredible.

I don’t think sponsors can ever accurately judge the impact that their visit has on the child, but I got a pretty good indication on this afternoon. I cannot describe the pure excitement, joy and delight and Olga displayed as we bounced, jumped, ran and slid for (what felt like) about 30 minutes, and I certainly exhausted my aerobic capacity. That Jumping Castle was a “temple of joy”. She even brought on the teddy bear I had given her as a gift and started throwing it around! A highlight for me was when we were having a go at the inflatable punching bags that were part of the jumping castle, and each time I punched them I said “punch, punch, punch” In her excitement, Olga tried to copy what I was saying, but it came out as “woosha-woosha-woosha.”

We then went and had a go at some of the other games. Olga was unrestrained in her glee as she shot basketballs in the hoop (very well, I might add!), played airhockey, and tried several other games. She even won enough tickets to get herself a prize. My earlier grumbles about the way I spend my money went out the window as it dawned on me what a rare and precious experience this was for her (and her mother watching her). Absolute gold!

On the way to the airport, the one thing I could not get out of my head was the image of Mama looking around at the foreign world of the mall when we were riding the train. I tentatively asked the question "What were you thinking?" I was not expecting her answer. "I was very content, because I had never been to the mall before, and I was happy because my daughter Olga was happy to be there too." 

No trip would be complete without some airport drama, and today was that day. I was heading to Guatemala straight after the visit, and had my bags already packed and locked. What I hadn’t realised was I had left my deodorant and inflated Australian football in my carry-on luggage, both of which weren’t permitted to go on the plane. By the time we got pulled up at the security checkpoint, our checked-in luggage had been already whisked away. It wasn’t really a big deal, I’d just have to get rid of them both. The deodorant I could replace, but I didn’t really want to lose the Australian football. With some fast talking from my translator Irma, and some compassion from the woman at the check-in desk, my suitcase was recovered, football was secured and all was at peace with the world again.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Visiting Danna (MX)

The first stop on my visit to Jiquipilas, Mexico, to visit 9 year-old Danna, was church. What better place to be on a Sunday morning!? We were picked up from Tuxtla, a two-hour drive away, by the Director of Project ME738, Aurelio, who has been doing it for 10 years. Compassion doesn’t normally host visits on Sunday, but because of my schedule they were flexible and agreed to host me. This just meant I didn’t get to see the project in action, but what I got instead was still incredibly memorable and impacting.

The Project ME738 is connected to “The First Church of the Nazarene (Jesus)”. Nazarene is a pentecostal denomination in Mexico. Some of Danna’s family go to the “Second Church of the Nazarene” instead. I have given my experience here it’s own blog post.

It was a warm day, and the church was very open - no windows, and no enclosed wall on one side. I figured the weather must be warm/hot the whole year round, but was surprised when the family said that this wasn’t typical weather. I can’t imagine what it’s like when it’s colder. Translator Irma and I arrived before church started, and were escorted to the front row, where I met Danna. She was shy and polite. During the service she was busting to go out with the other kids, but Mama made her stay in and sit next to me. I felt sorry for her. 

The music was led by a team of six young guys, and was phenomenal and passionate, which are two words that could be used to describe the whole service. It didn’t matter that I didn’t understand a word they were saying, apart from maybe “Gracias Senor”(Thank you God) or “Nombre de Jesus” (name of Jesus). I did recognise “Open the Eyes of My Heart” and “Agnus Dei.”

I felt the presence of God in that place. The lads displayed incredible talent and ability on their instruments, swapped instruments at times, and played without any sheet music. I learned they also sometimes travel around and lead worship at other churches in the area.  I was thrilled to find out later that three of those guys were former Compassion-sponsored kids, now using their gifts and talents for the glory of God! I love stories like that!

On this day there were between 200 and 300 people at the church, and it was interesting to observe the way they did things, and how different it was to a lot of churches I’ve been part of. There was a real healthy fear of the Lord in the place, and their faith and joy, even in their circumstances, was tangible. I was moved to tears, and beyond words, grateful and humbled to be there, feeling like I was in the presence of true worshippers.

The pastor of the church has been very sick, and appeared quite old and frail. He made his return to church on this day. I only talked to him briefly but he clearly inspires the people of his church, and has authority and their respect.

When the worship leader prayed, he or she got down on their knees. Postures of worship were very important – about three different times in the service, approx 50 people or so came to the front and lay prostrate before God. The people were very physically affectionate, with each other and with me. I was embraced more times than I could count, which is something I’m not used to, but have become comfortable with.

A young woman preached on this day (for over an hour), and she was strong, bold and passionate. There were no notes, or fandangled Powerpoint slides. The only tools she used were a whiteboard with three dot points and her sword – the Word of God.

A definite highlight was being able to get up and play the drums with the music team lads. It was a big ask for them, but I asked if they knew the song “One Way, Jesus”, and sure enough they did, so we belted that out. At first the people were just sitting, treating it like an item, but one of the church leaders exhorted them to stand, and soon we had a church full of 300 people celebrating Jesus as “the Way the Truth and the Life”.

As I was belting it out, a thought dawned on me that was so profound and humbling I nearly fell off my chair: I’m doing what God has gifted me to do (playing drums), and we might come from “different universes”, but I’m leading a church of 300 Mexicans in joyfully celebrating and glorifying OUR God, the Creator of the universe. It doesn’t get much better than that.

After we finished playing, I got off, but they yelled for an encore, so we played “Trading My Sorrows”, which they had done earlier in the service. I was then able to share briefly with the people. In all honesty I felt so inadequate, small, empty and broken. I was coming from such a privileged and blessed country, where we take EVERYTHING for granted and have everything we could ever need or want, and I was standing before these spiritual giants, who have nothing materially, but are so content, joyful and filled with faith and trust in their loving God. What was I supposed to say?

Thankfully, God gave me words. This is what I shared “I have only been in your community for a very short time, and I can tell your lives are hard. I cannot pretend to know what your lives are like, but need to tell you, I can feel your faith, joy and passion for Jesus. I can only encourage you, as the apostle Paul says in the Bible to “Fight the good fight, finish the race and claim the prize that Jesus has for us – eternal life.” True hope, joy and freedom only come from faith in Jesus.”

Home Visit
Danna’s family consists of Mama, older sister (Miss Ten) and older brother (Mr 14). Miss Ten is sponsored by a Korean family, and has received a total of one letter and photo. Mr 14 was sponsored, but left the program. I get the impression that, for whatever reason, he just didn’t want to be part of it anymore. They have aunts and cousins living next door. Mama works at Casa Dias (“Day House”), a government organisation where people get support and learn skills.

When I first saw their house, I asked how many other people live with them, but it was just Mama and the three kids. I thought it was quite big for a family of four. They have electricity, bathroom, one bedroom, and dirt floor. The house has wooden foundations and an iron sheet roof. What really struck me is how this family take pride in their home despite their humble circumstances. They still had their Christmas tree and decorations up, as well as a tribute in the corner to their deceased grandmother who died – a table with a photo, candles and a Bible.

The church service did not finish until after one o’clock, so we shelved our original plans. We were going to take Danna to Tuxtla, which was a large city about 80km away, for lunch. However, whenever I visit my Compassion kids, my priority is spending as much time as I can with the family and seeing their home and environment. So someone went out and bought some lunch and we ate at Danna’s home.

We were joined for lunch by the little cousins and a couple of aunts. There was good conversation and lots of questions. I was humbled by their generosity and hospitality. They did ask what I thought of their home and neighbourhood, but they didn’t seem overly concerned, insecure or ashamed. Once again, there was a sense of contentment in what God has provided for them.

Danna’s father has not been on the scene for 8 years, since she was a baby. Mama said he left for the United Statesto look for a job, and never came back. An all-too-common story in these parts of the world. I asked her if she was expecting that to happen when he left, and she said “no”, so it wasn’t like they were fighting and he stormed out. I could feel a sense of loss there. This makes Mister 14 the man of the house, and my role as Danna's sponsor even more significant.   
 
After lunch our little tribe (7 kids, 6 adults) headed out into the neighbourhood. It seemed quiet and safe with paved roads, and Danna said enjoys living there. Our first stop was a public football stadium, complete with synthetic surface. I had already introduced them to the strange, red egg-shaped ball that is an Australian football, so we were planning to have a kick. However, there were already a bunch of teenage boys at the park, playing that OTHER football, the round-ball variety.

They were on a break, since their soccer ball had burst and they were waiting for someone to bring back a replacement ball, so the kids and I got on and had a kick of the footy. I can’t imagine what the soccer boys were thinking at this sight! I tried to get the lads involved by kicking it near them, but only had one or two takers. Most of them were bemused by it and treated it almost like a bomb when it came near. However, it didn’t stop them wanting a photo taken with me when they found out I was Australian. There’s now a bizarre photo of me among a bunch of Mexican soccer boys, wearing a New York Knicks shirt (American basketball), wearing an Aussie cap and holding an Australian football!   

After this we headed up the road to a local soccer ground, where there was a proper match going on, and playground. Here I had an interesting bathroom experience. Being a local soccer match in Mexico, the changerooms are guarded by an armed policeman and he led me into one of them, where there was a solitary toilet in the corner. When the time came to wash my hands, I looked around puzzledly for a sink, but he came and pointed to the cistern of the toilet, which was indeed filled with water, but obviously not the kind I was originally thinking! So for the first time in my life, I washed my hands in the cistern of a toilet…

The kids (and I) then had a play on the playground. I did not need my translator Irma for this, because fun on a playground transcends every language. The equipment was rusted and quite primitive, but they even had one of those wizzy-dizz rides that you hop on and someone pushes it round until everyone gets dizzy. They’re the ones that are very rare, if not extinct, in Australiabecause the local councils are too scared of getting sued.

We finally headed back to the house for gifts and goodbyes, sweaty and content after a couple of hours of simple fun. I much preferred this to the original arrangement, which would have had us doing a lot of sitting in cars.

A holy moment I have been able to experience in every visit is the giving of gifts. I brought pretty much the same thing for each child, with a couple of extra things for two girls having a birthday and the ones with larger families.

Every child gets a teddy bear, even the older ones. One cannot underestimate the comfort and security a person gets from having their own teddy bear, particularly considering the lives these kids have. My one boy Antonio will be getting a soccer ball and the girls receive simple silver necklaces with a fish symbol containing the word “Jesus”.

After seeing the living conditions of pretty much all the kids so far, I have often struggled to hold it together as I was struck by the symbolism as I put the necklace gently round each girl's neck and pointed out the word on the Fish - Jesus. He is their only hope, and I’m very blessed to know that the majority of my Compassion kids already recognise and acknowledge this.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Visiting Allison (MX)

After about four hours sleep in my hotel in Mexico City, I was up at 6amto get ready for the first visit day of what I’m calling my “Central America Mega-Tour.” (even though Ecuadoris South America and Dominican Republic and Haitiare in the Caribbean).

I met my translator/lifesaver Irma at 7am. She will be with me for the entire four days in Mexico, for which I’m grateful. She has been working for Compassion for 12 years. We jumped on a bus for an 80 minute trip to San Martin Texmelucan to meet Allison. At the bus station we were picked up by the Pastor, who’s been at his church for 17 years, and Compassion project ME785 has been operating for 6 years, with a couple hundred kids.

In my visiting experience so far I have found that many of the Pastors who have churches involved with Compassion have been there a long time. I was told that the city of San Martin Texmelucanhas 130,000 residents, with only about 10,000 Christians, so they are the minority.

When we got to the Project, we walked in to a church full of kids of all ages. I did my best to introduce myself in Spanish (thanks to Microsoft Word translate tool), and sang them the song “God of Wonders”. There was no guitar, so I had to struggle along on the piano – chords only! I asked if anyone had a sponsor from Australia, and no hands went up. However I found out from talking to some of the kids later, some of them don’t even know which country their sponsor comes from, and have trouble saying their names.

I then met Allison and her family – Mama (27) and 2 sisters. Allison’s Dad was at work. He makes clothes with a couple of his brothers and brothers-in-law, then they go off to sell them on weekends, so the kids don’t see their dad much.

I joined some of the kids for a snack, and got to know the family better. The kids asked me questions about myself and Australia. I taught them a couple of fun camp songs, Thumb Wars (1,2,3,4 I declare a thumb war!), then I got out the footy! There wasn’t much play space. ME785 is an urban project, and there are currently massive building extensions happening in order to expand the Project. So their play space is a construction zone. Nevertheless, we made the best of what we had, and I took a group of 25 kids out to have a go at handballing an Australian football. Interesting….

After a while we took a tour of the Project. I saw the classrooms, medical room, kitchen, office, and pretty soon it was evident why they need to make extensions – there ain’t no room! However, the staff do the best with what they’ve got, and are being the hands and feet of Jesus to these kids. The kids at this Project were a happy, curious bunch, and I felt very loved and accepted. I even had some kids wanting my autograph! Weird… I just wrote them a little message and signed off with a smiley face “David from Australia.”

Meeting Allison was amazing. I’ve now met 14 of my Compassion kids, and part of me thinks “Surely I’d be used to it by now? Surely I know what to expect? Surely it would lose a bit of the thrill, excitement and nerves?” The answer to that is a resounding NO! When you make the decision to invest in a little soul for both this life and eternity, supporting them with money, love, encouragement and letters, and you finally get to BE WITH them and see what their life is like – where they live, where they play - not much else comes close to that feeling.

I have been sponsoring Allison for a year. She is a super-sweet, affectionate 8 year-old. She has an older sister (Miss Ten) and a younger sister (Miss Three). Mama is 27, and was very engaging and easy to talk to. She sells sandwiches and tortillas outside her daughter’s school, and takes Miss Three with her. Both Allison and Miss Ten are top of their classes at school. Miss Ten is also sponsored, but her sponsor never or rarely writes. Not good enough in my book.

Last May, I received a letter saying Allison’s Project was going to close at the start of 2013, and they weren’t sure whether Allison would go to a new Project. I found out today that from June to September Allison did not attend her Project at all, even though it was still running. From hearing Mama talk about it I think this may be because they weren’t happy with the decision to close the Project down. In October, the girls started going to ME785.  

We left the Project sooner than I would have liked, because of the schedule. With the sponsor visits, as well as seeing the Project and the child’s home, often we will go to a park/zoo/mall as a special treat. The problem with this is they are often far away from the child’s town, and much travelling is required. It’s also usually just the child and one parent rather than the whole family. Whenever I visit, my personal priority is to see the Project in detail and the home, and spend as much time with the whole family as possible. Anything after that is a bonus.

So today we rushed off from the Project and took Allison’s family to a place called Hacienda de Chautla, which is a historical castle and museum, and we got the guided tour. It was good, and has a nice natural lake, but is not necessarily somewhere I’d take three kids under 10. However, Irma told me the girls enjoyed it and had been wanting to go there, so that’s what matters I guess.

On the way out I asked the Pastor what sort of fish you can catch in the lake. He said there are two types, and when you catch a fish you pay a certain amount to take it with you. He also took this question to mean that I wanted to have a go. I tried so hard to refuse, but before I knew it a rod was in my hand, and my sponsored child and her family were all watching me. I never have been, nor ever will be a fishing person. There are many things I’d rather do before I go fishing. So I duly stuffed up the cast (is that what it’s called when you chuck the line into the water?) by getting the line tangled, handed back the rod and stormed off in a huff (not really, but my body language wasn’t positive for a few seconds). The one good thing about fishing for me is that it made possible the classic Homer Simpson line “na na na na na na na na fishing!”   

For lunch we went to a restaurant called Nila Restaurante, and this was the first time EVER for the girls. This made me feel quite privileged that I was able to give them this opportunity, and it’s something we just take for granted. Allison is only 8, and her plate contained a couple of massive pieces of fish. I was quietly sceptical about whether her meal would get finished, but by golly she did it!

The last stop for the day was their family home. They live in a busy city street, and it’s part of a “complex” of units that are hidden behind a high sheet metal fence. Their extended family lives in the same group of houses. We talked for a while, they showed me around the house, looked at some of their family photos, got out the letters I’d sent Allison and I gave them some gifts. For each child I am visiting, I am giving the following:
- a teddy bear, a “Jesus” pendant and a bead necklace for the child (soccer ball for Antonio, my one boy on this trip);
- a clip-on koala and a postcard for the siblings;
- a koala snow globe and an Australian flag for the family.

I am always affected by the generosity and hospitality shown by the families on my sponsor visits. They may not have much, but what they do have they share willingly and graciously.

Thus endeth day one.

Compassion Adventure #3 (Central/South America 2013): Intro

Over the next three weeks, I will be doing probably the craziest thing I have done in my life, especially for someone who spoeaks and understands very little espanol. I will be journeying through seven different countries in....The Americas (I couldn't be bothered repeating the post title). The purpose of this trip is to visit 14 of the children I sponsor through Compassion International. The countries are: Mexico (3 kids), Guatemala (3), El Salvador (2), Nicaragua (3), Ecuador (1), Haiti (1) and Dominican Republic (1).

I got back from an incredible trip to Brazil in October, and in a rush of blood, organised this trip straight away, reasoning that I had the health and the funds (and I still have both of those). I also wasn't going to plan my next trip nine months ahead, like I did with Brazil. At no stage have I regretted it, but I have spent some time wondering "what the heck were you thinking?"

I will be way out of my comfort zone and relying completely on God. I know something of what to expect - there will be heartache, despair, joy and hope in equal measures. Some of the kids I will be visiting have shared about sicknesses and addictions within their families. I am hoping that my visit to these families will assure them and confirm to them God's immeasurable love for them, and we will see healings and salvation in many lives because of His grace and mercy. I know beyond doubt that Compassion is God's business, and I am humbled that He is using me in this way.

Thanks for the prayers that have been thrown up, I know God is honouring them :)