Tag: World Vision (Page 2 of 2)

What Really Breaks God’s Heart?

I hate it when people go on mission trips and come home all “Oooh, you couldn’t possibly understand it, but we went to Abracadabra and Bibbidybobbityboo and that’s in the southeastern corner of the district of Allacazam in the country of Boolaboola (don’tcha know) and it was AMAZING!  The poor people there need so much but are so full of joy!  We need to help them and you should have been there!” 

And those who haven’t been think, “Well, I wasn’t there.” And eyes glaze over and they think “No, I couldn’t possibly understand, and what could I do even if I did understand and you’re being a little obnoxious right now.” 

All that to say that as I post from Africa I’m going to try not to do that and I pray you find these thoughts relevant for you.  

There is a much repeated prayer in World Vision, “Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God.”  There’s a lot that I know breaks God’s heart around the world.  Obvious stuff like poverty, injustice, violence, corruption…

Whenever we travel in the developing world and we pray that prayer, our go-to response is to be sad and compassionate and prayerful about what we’re seeing.  We want to know how we can partner with God to bring His kingdom to every corner of the world.  And that’s a good thing mostly, I think.

But poverty isn’t just “out there” or “over there”.

It’s here too. In me.  Poverty of spirit, of humility, of understanding, of awareness. Continue reading

Afraid of Getting it Wrong and Getting it Right

It’s Fearless Friday and the half-marathon is tomorrow.  I have a lot to be afraid about.  You may too.  But I also have lots to celebrate.  Among my blessings are so many of you who have supported, encouraged and prayed for me.  Thank you to the moon!   Since the half-marathon is about raising money for clean water through World Vision, today I want to share a related fear and some good news.

I’m a first born.  A Rule Follower.  I hate “getting it wrong”!  I get so embarrassed by my mistakes.

When someone dies, I’m scared to death of saying the wrong thing, inadvertently being “that person” who was somehow insensitive or oblivious.

When helping those in need it’s the same.  Over the years I’ve found that there are so many ways that well-meaning folks (Read: “me”) can cause more problems than they solve, creating dependency, or taking away dignity, or upsetting the country’s economy or…

Also, poverty is overwhelming.  Injustice seems intractable.  Often I just want to cover my ears, shut my eyes and yell “Lalalalala…”  The problems are so big it’s hard to know where to start.  When we do DO something we don’t want to hear it’s the wrong thing!  So it was with fear and trepidation that I started reading the book, Toxic Charity recently.

One of the criticisms the author, Robert Lupton levels is at organizations who create dependency instead of equipping and empowering those in need.  We need to do with and not just for others.

As I read this terrific book, yes, there were some little things that I hadn’t thought about that I need to change, but there was good news too. Continue reading

Why are You Doing the Hard Thing?

33 days from today is the Half-Marathon.  13.1 miles.  It’s hard thing.  But everyone reading this is doing a hard thing.  Or a lot of hard things.

This was the text I sent to Katy and Maggie the other day after I ran.  It is similar to many other texts I’ve sent over the past six months.

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I questioned myself once again, “WHY the heck am I doing this?”

Just like you may ask yourself,

“Why did I commit to lead this small group?

Why do I keep tutoring this under-resourced kid who doesn’t seem to care?

Why should I stay in this hard marriage?

Why did I move here?

Why am I serving on this board?

Why did I start this business?…”

“Why did I choose to do this hard thing?” Continue reading

Fear, Small Things, and a Big God

One of the ways God reassures me is to say “do not despise the day of small things.”*  He uses the ordinary, and the overlooked, and the seemingly inconsequential.  And even the things He does with these can go overlooked.  Unnoticed.

I used to think that if it was “of God” it had to be big and bold and dramatic and flashy.  Like a super hero.  But then I learned that if he can use flour and oil, and widows, and dropouts, there’s hope for me.  I’m thankful for that, because my life is mostly a life of “small things”.

But lately I’ve been convicted that I’ve gone too far.  I’m settling for too little. I’m settling for a small god, instead of the real thing.   It’s not me who’s flashy and dramatic, but I can trust in God to do amazing things through me, beyond my ability.

Sometimes He wants to do big things.

Continue reading

Persevering through Partway to Somewhere

This is not a post about running.  Not exactly.

But it starts there, so bear with me.

The hardest point in my runs (read: slow slog) these days is between mile 2.5 and 3.  After the newness of the run has worn off and before I’m in any kind of comfortable (read: muscle numbing) rhythm.  Way before the end is in sight.  And let’s not even talk about the possibility of the “runner’s high”.  That’s a cruel myth perpetuated by sadistic marathoners to make the rest of us feel like failures.

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This is the point that is the most uncomfortable.  When I most want to stop.  When the voices taunting “This is STUPID!” are the loudest.

Instead of “I-think-I-can-I-think-I-can” on repeat in my brain it’s “I’m-gonna-die-I’m-gonna-die”.

Continue reading

When God Invites You to do a Big Thing and Fear says You Can’t

I had a lunch meeting a few weeks ago.  The purpose was for me to help a World Vision guy do some brainstorming and networking.  At least that’s what I thought.

I’m pretty creative.  I’m good at ideas.  I’m good at making work for other people.  It’s a gift.  My family likes to say “God loves you and Laura has a wonderful plan for your life.”  So I was feeling good about meeting with Bradley (the guy) and giving him some ideas.  That is until he finished telling his story, turned to me and said, “I want you to run a half-marathon with Team World Vision to raise money for clean water in Zambia.”

What the what?!  Not much surprises me.  Even less than that leaves me speechless. This did.

I don’t run.  Unless I’m running from a bear.

I’ve tried running.  I hate it.  Truly hate it.  Bike, walk, play tennis, golf?  Absolutely!  Run? Ugh, please no!

As I reflected on the possibility, Fear whispered in my ear:

  • What if you really can’t do it?  What if you don’t finish?
  • What if you let people down?
  • What if you don’t raise any money?
  • What if you don’t motivate others to run?
  • What if you hurt yourself and it compromises your ability to enjoy other things?

Honestly, one of the loudest whispers was:  This will be a painful, grueling boatload of work and you don’t want to do it.

But Bradley said three things in that meeting that made me think maybe his idea was so crazy that God might actually be in it and I needed to pay attention.

1. He said this run is for clean water, something I’m passionate about.  Dirty water is the leading killer of kids under 5 in the world.

IMG_1977In Zambia two years ago I danced with women as a well was dug and fresh water gushed out.  They sang “Come and see what God has done.”  The old woman next to me spoke in wonder “He saw us. He answered our prayers.”  Wouldn’t be incredible to part of an answer to someone’s prayers?

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2.  80% of the people who run on Team World Vision are not runners (as in, never done it).  And that’s both scary and inspiring.  When Bradley speaks to churches his theme is fear not.  My one word for this year is Fearless, the word I’m trying to live into.  As he spoke I sensed a little nudge.  Perhaps this is a tailor made (albeit crazy) invitation to step into something scary that God desires to use.

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3.  My first response was unequivocal.  There is no way I can do this.  (Did I mention I. Don’t. Run. Ever.?).  But maybe that’s an additional reason why this might be of God.  Perhaps, besides providing water, there is something He wants to show me of Himself in this hard thing.  His power perfected in my weakness.

There are many days of “small things”, but sometimes God invites us into something big and hard and seemingly impossible.

I think, in this case, God’s answer to Fear is “What if I run with you and do something bigger in and through you for others than you think is possible?”

So, although I have visions of my daughter (who may be running with me), dragging my lifeless body across the finish line, October 26th (Lord willing) I will be running (or shuffling) the Twin Cities Monster Dash half-marathon.  You can join me running here! They have a great training program – starting from zero.

You can donate here.

Two Boys and God

This is the story of two boys, half a world apart.  Two boys who have never met, and probably never will, but have become brothers in some small sense.

It’s a story about two boys, but it’s also a story about God.  God who saw Michael in rural Uganda and Eric in urban Minneapolis and thought maybe they could help each other out.

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I’ll never forget the day we met Michael in Rakai Uganda, 2009  He was 14 years old.  A little boy with a man inside.  We were there to celebrate the completion of World Vision’s transforming work in this forgotten place of AIDS and dirty water and parentless families.

Michael had traveled fifteen miles on dusty African roads and stood straight and tall, shoulders back, dressed in his best sky blue shirt and khaki pants.  He spoke to John and me in perfect English:

“I have come to you on behalf of myself and my schoolmates.  We need your continued help.  It is my dream to become a doctor, but without help I will not be able to attend the schools I need to.  I beseech you (yes, that’s what he said :)).  Please do not leave us.  I want to be the best doctor in Africa.”

Michael was articulate, brave, and clearly a leader.  A remarkable young man.  There was no way we could turn our backs on his need, so along with another couple we committed to pay his tuition through medical school.

Soon after that, back here in urban Minneapolis I started tutoring Eric, a young boy, 10 years old, who had moved here from Togo.  Struggling to learn everything in his fifth language.  Times tables, american culture, the harsh realities of cruel middle school boys.

Unlike Michael, Eric didn’t have dreams other than making it through the baffling days at school.

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Still, like Michael I saw a core strength in Eric.  A tiny spark of courage and hope that enabled him to keep showing up, like the robins who seem to have irrationally appeared back in Minnesota in spite of our April snow.

And this is when God showed up.  In a whisper.

I felt like He was saying, “Michael should mentor Eric.”

Michael, now 18, in Uganda with his dream, was meant to inspire Eric, now 14, struggling to find his way in Minneapolis.

And so I introduced them. Through letters.

And Michael, a young man who has never traveled more than 125 miles from his home, never seen the ocean or ridden an airplane, is challenging and inspiring Eric, a world away.

I helped Eric write Michael about his life here in America and here is some of what Michael wrote back:

I think you are surprised that I know your name and you wonder how I got it.  You should know that both I and you share some very important people in our lives.  One of those people is Aunt Laura.  I live in Uganda and she told me that you came from Togo.  So you and I are brothers because we were born in the same area (continent).  For me I have not travelled to any other country and I am happy for you because you are in America.

Aunt Laura told me that you are a very great boy and she is proud of you.  She is always praying for you so that you can get used to the American system of education and American sports.  We both trust you will soon do well, but you should be working hard and have a very positive attitude about what you are doing.  Pray also as you word hard and God will help you learn what is difficult.  Share with Aunt Laura whatever is hard for you.  I am sure she will help you.

When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, Eric had written “a policeman because they get to drive cars fast.”  He had also said he likes reading about the bad guys in the Bible from a book I gave him.  This is part of Mike’s response:

It is not bad to become a police officer, but you also need to continuously seek for career guidance from Auntie Laura and Uncle John so that you can know other professions in life. 

While at school, we receive a spiritual leader who leads us in fellowship and when I go back home, I go to church every Sunday just like you.  Which bad guys do you always read about from the Bible?  What things did they do?  

For me, I always read about good guys like Samuel, Moses, and David, a young man who was loved by God and made king.  From these I get inspiration and think you also need it.  Please try to read about these three good guys.  You will find it important.  Tell me what you learn.

None of this life stuff for teenage boys is easy.

Neither have fathers in their lives.  I don’t know what the future will hold.  But very time I see Eric to tutor him and every time I write Michael, I try to leave them with these words, “Never forget, you are an amazing young man and God can do great things through you.”

Awhile ago, after I had said that to Eric at the end of our tutoring time in a room removed from the other kids who are prone to tease and distract, he went downstairs where they were playing pool, and he approached the head of the tutoring program.  I prompted, “Eric, tell him.”

Shyly he said, “I am an amazing young man.”

I think that Michael is helping him believe that too.  And I pray it is making a difference.

Lord, thank you that on days that feel bland and monotonous and like oatmeal without the brown sugar, You – Your holy hands are working behind the scenes, redeeming and weaving together lives that You see are bright and beautiful and deserve hope.

Where are you going today?

Tomorrow John and I are leaving to go to Sri Lanka, off the coast of India (yes, I had to check).  He for a World Vision Board meeting.  Me, to support him in his Board-dom and see more of God’s world and work.

The amount of travel I get to do is a privilege I don’t take lightly.  I’m blessed, but I told the girls it doesn’t bode well for me that one of the first things I read about Sri Lanka is that they have 84 different kinds of snakes, but not to worry because not that many are poisonous.

I hate snakes.  I mean really.  Me and Indiana Jones.

So, Sri Lanka has that against it.  And it’s like a million hours on three flights to get there which I could live without.

But, I’ve been thinking.  Discomfort and snakes aside, in many ways it’s easier for me to go across the world and build relational bridges to folks in Sri Lanka, than it is for me to go across the street and build a bridge to my neighbors who smoke and have loud parties and yell at their kids.

It may be easier to fly across continents than for me to make the time to fight traffic and go across the city to a homeless shelter, or to tutor.

Sometimes it’s easier to jet across time-zones than to walk across the Great Room at church and include someone who is hard to love.  Or cross the coffee shop to listen to enter into someone’s pain, or reach out to a stranger.

I think of what it was like for Jesus, leaving the pure delight of heaven and coming across time and space to enter into the everyday brokenness, muck and mess of this world He loves.

And then He went across cultural and economic and class lines to reach the Samaritan, the tax-collector, the confused rich, and the broken-hearted father.

I think the reason it’s easier for us to go across the world than across the street is because across the street is just so everyday.  It’s always right there.  It’s the ever-present opportunity we’ll get to “someday”.

Going across my city, my neighborhood, my church, my home, my coffee shop.  It’s not like it’s a big deal.  Which is why, perhaps it is a big deal to Jesus.

A quote by Gregory Boyle has captured me this week: Jesus “goes where love has not yet arrived.”

So on this last day before Sri Lanka, my goal is to be aware go across wherever I can go across in my everyday world, prayerfully going where maybe love has not yet arrived.

Where is it hard for you to go across?

Fast Fail

My friend Sue is a master faster.  She once did a 40 day fast.  Honest.  With only fruit juice and a very understanding family.  And she’s a pray-er too.  She truly did the whole thing right!  I kind of  want to hate her but she’s just too nice.

I, on the other hand, am fasting FAILURE.  I am just hopeful that when Jesus said, “WHEN you fast…” He didn’t really mean it.  I’m hoping that Matthew 6 is the “I’m just kidding, you don’t really HAVE to pay attention to this” section of the Bible.  It doesn’t really count.  It was really just for “back then”“yesteryear”…”days of yore”

Last week our church challenged people to a kind-of sort-of fast.  Not the real kind where you don’t eat anything and don’t tell anyone and you go into your closet and just focus on prayer and God and pious thoughts.  Instead, this was a rice and beans fast.  For three days we were challenged to eat a cup of oatmeal for breakfast and a cup of beans and rice for the other two meals of the day with only water.  We were doing this for two reasons:  to experience what most of the world lives on, and to contribute the money we saved to World Vision’s program for alleviating hunger in Somalia.

Here’s what I learned:

  • I am a cranky pants baby when it comes to any sacrifice in this area (I’m probably a cranky pants baby when it comes to ANY sacrifice, but I’d rather not think about it).
  • I get sleepy, headaches, and lack attention without my morning coffee
  • Every commercial on T.V. is about food
The positives (and I write this grudgingly) were that I was acutely aware of praying for our sponsored children who may not know where their next meal is coming from.  And it made me so grateful for the amazing cornucopia of deliciousness that is available to us on a daily basis.  I also thought more about where our money goes on a daily basis.
But the bottom line?  I really hated doing this.  I wish Jesus was just down with feasting and not fasting.  But, He’s not, so I’m trying to get on board with this.
What about you?  Do you fast?  What do you wish wasn’t in the Bible?



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