Sunday, February 17, 2008
The Gift of Caring for His Lambs
Have you been following Boomama and Shannon? Two homemakers who agreed to travel with Compassion to Uganda, sharing their hearts with us.

Sitting at my laptop, a gamillion miles away, I've been moved to tears by the posts, the photos, the videos. And the poverty, a poverty we don't know here in America. I realized I've become so burdened by the needs here in our country that I've rationalized away my responsibility to make a difference across the globe. Guess what? I can do both. God didn't tell me to serve and give to either or, but rather to be his hands and feet 'to the ends of the earth'. I'd forgotten that, or at least ignored it.

Years ago our family sponsored a little girl from what was then called Zaire, named Nakosi. When she was graduating from high school, we were privileged to send a graduation gift of $100; it bought her a sewing machine that would operate with a pedal (rather than electricity which she did not have), and provided her a way to support herself. It was, in essence, the same as sending one of our children through four years of college. $80,000 or $100.00? Amazing! While we were her sponsors we bought a Christmas tree ornament of a young African girl. Every year as I take out that ornament to hang it on the tree I wonder about her, where she is, what her life is like now as a young woman. Is she married? Is she a mother? We also sponsored a young boy from Mexico. I remember the photos of him, holding a soccer ball with a huge smile on his little face. The privilege of making a difference in their lives cost about the same as going to Applebees for dinner, or even a movie with popcorn and cokes these days.

It's been at least ten years since we were sponsors. The posts and videos, from Sophie and Shannon and the team they're traveling with - I can't tell you how much they moved me to see the children, the living conditions. It's time to get onboard again.

I love animals. For years I've told my family I'd like to have a pet lamb. I never said it had to live indoors, but I really wanted one as a pet. It could live in the backyard, and I was going to name it Ivey. Of course they've all told me, over and over the 99 reasons why I can't have one. Zoning laws, hoofed feet, shearing, etc. I didn't really go along with their reasoning, but guess what? There's a different kind of 'sheep' out there. This is what my husband gave me for Valentines Day:


A Compassion child to love. Her name? Gift. Gift Pettiline Ayoo, seven years old. No mother. Dirt floors, carries water. Fun activity is walking. W.A.L.K.I.N.G. I chose her because of her name, and her sad face. I hope I can play a tiny part in changing that, bringing hope to someone a gamillion miles away from me. We both, after all, have the same Shepherd.

Jesus, talking to Peter after He'd risen from the dead, and before He left the earth, asked him,

"Simon, son of John, do you love me?"
"Yes, Master, you know I love you."
"Feed my lambs."
"Simon, son of John, do you love me?"
"Master, you know I love you."
"Shepherd my sheep."
"Simon, son of John, do you love me?"
"Master, you know everything there is to know. You've got to know that I love you."
"Feed my sheep."

You can go to Sophie's or Shannon's site, or to http://www.compassion.net/ to play a part in feeding His sheep.

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  posted at 6:00 AM
 





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