How Poverty May Have Saved My Life!

Meet Samuel. He's a college student in Haiti studying architecture. Well, I guess I should say he WAS a college student studying architecture.

You see, Samuel was kicked out of class because he couldn't afford the tuition. He was supposed to be in class at 4:45pm last Tuesday when the earthquake hit. But because he had no money, he wasn't there.

Poverty just may have saved Samuel's life.

Because, this is what's left of the college. A pile of rubble. Flattened by the quake. His classmates perished. Many of their bodies are still trapped inside.

Samuel is living in a squatter's tent city right now. When we met him, he was playing a guitar, singing a song he wrote, titled "Lord, Do What You Want With Me." It might be a very appropriate song. Samuel was studying architecture. And architects are just what Haiti is going to need in the very near future, if this country is going to rebuild itself.

Samuel, God saved you for a reason. And yes, He's going to do what He wants with you. It could be that you're part of the solution for Haiti's future. An architect in the making. A life saved. A dream stalled, but not forgotten.

Of course, it's difficult to ever say that poverty is a good thing. In Samuel's case, it may have saved his life, but he still has to deal with the fact that his family has no food, no home. Hope for an education is non-existent. That's why your prayers and support are so desperately needed. Find a way to give to Haiti. Help give kids like Samuel hope for a future.

The Disaster BEFORE the Disaster

From Port Au Prince, Haiti Long before an earthquake hit Haiti, disaster had already made its place here--poverty. The effects of this quake are magnified tremendously because of the poverty factor. Poverty forced people to live on decaying hillsides. Poverty left buildings poorly constructed. Poverty left no infrastructure to respond to such a disaster. The images you see on your television or computer don't do the devastation in Haiti justice. Building after building has collapsed. I’ve seen dozens of multistory buildings that have collapsed into a stack of pancaked floors. Looking at the sheer tonnage of cement, I’m amazed anyone survived. Hospitals, schools, churches and businesses all flattened. As if this country didn’t already struggle to provide those services to those who need it. That is the great irony right now. The number of people who need medical attention has increased dramatically as the result of this disaster, but the number of medical clinics and hospitals decreased. It seems so unjust. Communication and transportation are terrible. I’d love to be able to show you some of the videos that I’ve shot, but I can’t get a strong enough Internet connection to last long enough to upload. At this point, my best connection provides 8kb per second. Terribly slow. And it lasts only a few minutes at a time. This morning, I witnessed a relief truck get overtaken by a crowd of people in the streets. The people climbed the big rig by the dozens, forcing open the back doors and tossing out bags of rice … all while the truck was driving. People are desperate for food. All over town, there are makeshift signs (mostly sheets with painted words on them) saying, “We Need Help” or “Please — We Need Food and Water.” At the border of the Dominican Republic and Haiti, I saw a couple of relief supply trucks that had been turned into makeshift storefronts. People were trying to sell the food, water and clothing inside. Another example of how important it is for you to make sure you partner with an organization that has established distribution channels. Many organizations can get stuff here, but don’t know how to distribute it. Parking a truck on the side of the road can cause mayhem. We don’t know exactly how many of our kids are affected. Getting to them all is terribly difficult. Many families fled when the quake hit. Many are sleeping on the streets. Rounding them up is tough. Perhaps one of the most inspiring things I’ve seen is our Haiti staff here. Keep in mind, many of them lost everything in the quake. They lost homes, possessions and sadly, some of them lost loved ones. Yet here they are, working at our makeshift camp every day, trying to help others. Serving in the midst of their pain. Amazing! Please continue to pray for them. They are heroes of the faith. Compassion partners with established local churches in Haiti. We have for mre than 40 years. They know us. We know them. And shouldn’t the church be the distribution channel for relief in times of hurt anyway? You are providing for tons of supplies to make it into Haiti. Our first planeload is expected to arrive Friday in the Dominican Republic. It will be transported into Haiti on Saturday. We’ll be able to provide two weeks’ worth of basic necessities to more than 77,000 people. Two weeks later, we’ll be able to give them another two-week kit. It’s a start. But it’s a drop in the bucket of need. We need more. Help our relief efforts by making a donation to our Disaster Relief Fund. Thankfully, Compassion has a long-term solution to poverty, too. It’s our program. Child Survival, Child Sponsorship, Leadership Development. Holistic Child Development. That’s how you change a country like Haiti, from the inside out. You start with its children. You start by teaching them to believe in themselves and in a Creator who loves them. You give them skills to succeed. And when they are older, they fight the corruption that plagues their country. They make the changes. Haitians had little to begin with. This quake took that little away. It’s time to start over. And starting over begins with hope. And thankfully, that’s something Compassion specializes in.

Everyone Eats

What did you have for dinner last night? I had chicken tacos. And they were delicious. But as I was sitting at the dinner table with my wife and son, somewhere a child was going to bed hungry. Somewhere, a mommy had to tell her children, "I'm sorry, there's just no food tonight." There's enough in this world to make sure no child goes to bed hungry. NO child should starve. Everyone should eat. Today is Compassion International's Global Food Crisis Day. To learn more, and to do your part, click here.

Music City

I love Nashville. I really do. The atmosphere is just contagious. I love that you can walk for several blocks downtown and hear live music pouring out of the various clubs and bars. The music scene in Colorado Springs is virtually non-existent compared to Nashville. I'm sitting in the Colorado Springs airport at 7:00am, waiting for my 8:00 flight. I'll be in Nashville til Tuesday...then I'm off to San Diego for two days. Gonna be tough to be away from home for that long. My son is in his "cling to daddy" stage right now and it's just so hard to say goodbye to him. (Truth is, daddy is in his "cling to Morgan" stage" too. Ha!) I wish I could say I was going to be doing some music on this trip, but I'm not. Sad to go to Music City and not do any music! Both trips are work-related...doing stuff for Compassion International. Speaking of music, my single, Open Up the Darkness, is now #10 on the Christian Radio Weekly Indie Rock Charts. Sweet! Thanks to all of you who are supporting my new album, So Human. If anything exciting happens during the trip, I'll write about it. Blessings!

Sick Boy

The past few days, my little boy, Morgan, has been sick. Nothing too serious...but enough to make him cry out in pain from time to time.

I don't know about other dads, but it absolutely shreds my heart to see my little boy in pain. Oh, I hate not being able to take that away. When he looks at me like, "daddy, make it go away." Ugh.

I am very thankful for my job. It affords me much more than the opportunity to put food on the table (which is a much-appreciated accomplisment)...but it also allows me to provide medicine for when my little guy is sick. It allows me to know that he's safe at home with his mommy while I'm at my desk. And, since I work for such a wonderful ministry, it also allows me to help take care of children living in extreme poverty around the world--who can't afford medicines or food without our help.

Still, when my little guy is sick...I just wish I could stay home and hold him all day long. That beats a good day at work any day.

The Latest...

So, we finished the mixing, mastering, etc...for So Human a couple of weeks ago. But I still haven't sent everything off to the duplicators. There are some forms to be filled out, and some arrangements to be made regarding digital distribution, (it's going to be available on iTunes, digistation.com and a few others.) Plus, I'm waiting to have an insert created by Compassion International, that will promote their child sponsorship ministry. I want everyone who gets a copy of my CD to be able to learn about the incredible work that Compassion is doing in the lives of children in poverty.So...all that to say...it will be at least four weeks AFTER I send the stuff off before I have the album ready to sell. I'm hoping to be able to send it off late this week, or early next week. So, that would put availability at the end of September/first week of October. BONUS: Since you've been so patient, I have included some of the new songs on the player on my page here. You can listen to some of the songs that will be on the album now!

What Does That Even Mean?

When it comes to sports, there's one phrase that I just can't understand. I mean I flat out can't comprehend it. A lot of people say it...but to me, it's a foreign concept:

"I just play for fun."

Wha?! What does that even mean?

This week, the organization I work for will host its annual employee fun day--we call it "Day on the Green" or DOTG for short. At DOTG there will be crazy relays, a dunking booth, a spirit competition, etc...but the focal point of the day is the annual volleyball tournament. Yep, a bunch of cubicle-laden co-workers get out on the grass and try to knock a ball over the net...some of them for the first time in their lives.

It's hilarious. Unless you take competition very seriously.

Which I do.

So, you can imagine how frustrating it is for me to see players who insist on being part of the team, even though they're afraid of the ball.

Why would you put yourself through that?

Or another thing that absolutely kills me is those players who are unwilling to move to go after a ball. Oh sure, they'll swing at the ball, if it's within their reach, but God forbid they have to move a couple of steps!

Now, I'm no great athlete. (I know, I know, that comes as an absolute shock to many of you.) But I am not afraid to dive for a ball or jump up to block a heavy-handed spiker. When I'm done with a game, I'm winded...I'm tired. I worked. I certainly didn't stand around enjoying the scenery.

I play to win. And if you're not in it to win it, then seriously, I'd rather not be on your team. And it's not so much that I hate losing, it's just that I would rather lose trying...than to coast through any sport with a half-hearted effort.

I'm sure you're thinking: "Tim, chill...it's corporate FUN day." I understand that. But this is just how I was made. So forgive me if this concept of "just playing for fun" is foreign to me.

I just don't get it.

Something We Can All Do

I know times are hard right now. Gas prices are up. Grocery prices are up. But trust me, as much as we're feeling the pinch, it's nothing compared to the hurt millions are feeling around the world. Please watch this quick video message from the Dr. Wess Stafford, President and CEO of Compassion International...and take part in the fight to keep millions from starving in the midst of this global food crisis. There's something we can all do.

Guatemala

Hi gang! I'm off to Guatemala this weekend. I'll be gone through next weekend. This is a trip with Compassion International. We'll be working on a radio special while we're in country. The focus of this radio special will be to gather the perspectives of American youth on global poverty. So we're taking three 12-14 year olds with us to meet kids their age, living in abject poverty. We'll visit their homes and the Compassion projects where the kids go for food, fun, fellowship, shelter and after-school tutoring. While I'm in Guatemala, my wife and son are traveling to Kansas to be with her folks. Please pray for safe travel. As I've said before, I absolutely hate having to leave my son for this long. And now is such a crucial time in his development. He's 13 months old. Just starting to walk. Already saying a few words. But he's also at the point where he loves to have daddy hold him. And, as you can imagine, daddy loves that! So I'll miss that for a full week. Ugh. This is my second trip to Guatemala. I went back in December of '04. It will be great to see some of the Compassion staff that I befriended on my first trip. I'll probably write a post or two while I'm in Guatemala, just to let you know how things are going.

Beautiful

Typically, I steer away from using the word, "beautiful." I think it's severely over-used in our society. We've gotten to the point where anything we find pleasing is "beautiful." I don't think so. To me, the word should be powerful. It should only be used in those instances where words like "pretty" and "pleasing" fall way short.

I know I'm opening up a can of worms here, because beauty is a relative thing. I'm well aware that beauty is "in the eyes of the beholder." This beholder, however, has rarely seen it. But I would like to share some of those instances with you. These are some of the things that I find beautiful:

This is a grandmother in Bolivia...raising her three grandchildren by herself. Their father left them years ago and the mother passed away. A grandmother, struggling in poverty, working hard to feed, clothe, shelter and provide an education for three children that are not her own. That's beautiful.

This is Rosicela. I took this picture moments after she met the man who sponsors her through Compassion International. A few weeks before his visit, he sent Rosicela some money for her birthday. She decided she wanted to use some of the money to buy a new dress. She wanted to wear that dress when her sponsor arrived weeks later. Here she is, proudly wearing her new dress...and holding on to the stuffed moose her sponsor bought her. It was an absolutely beautiful moment to see the two of them meet face to face for the first time.

This little boy attends a Compassion project in Kenya. What I find beautiful about this boy is that he lives in extreme poverty on the outskirts of Nairobi...where HIV is rampant. Despite the deplorable conditions, look at the hope in his eyes. Look at the smile on his face. It is sheer beauty when a child can find a reason to smile amidst those circumstances.

Lest you think I can only find beauty in people, here's a flower I saw in Guatemala. I don't know much about flowers. I'm sure someone can tell me what kind of flower it is. But regardless, I find its intricacies and delicate design beautiful.

This is a brother and sister at play on the outskirts of Lima, Peru. Look at the debris in the foreground. Look at the slums in the background. Two kids...just being kids...and playing in the dirt, in the midst of so much despair...well, to me, that is beautiful.

This is Yasmin. I have traveled to seven countries now with Compassion and I have never seen a more heartbreaking home than Yasmin's. Her entire house was the size of my laundry room...and it was made of scraps of wood, tin and even some old billboards. The floor was dirt. The stove was a pot. No running water. No electricity. Her favorite toy was this headless doll. My heart broke when I saw her. But then I saw her mother interacting with her. There was so much love in that tiny little house of scraps. It was, without a doubt, beautiful.

When the Sneetch Children Cry

Hi friends, I'm one of the contributors to the Compassion International Blog, and my most recent post, When the Sneetch Children Cry, is now online. Come check it out when you get a chance. And while you're there, you should scan through some of the great writers we have contributing to the blog. I think you'll find their entries heartwarming, informative and inspirational. Thanks!

The Privilege

I have had the privilege of traveling to some of the poorest places in the world. I say privilege because I consider it just that. Walking with the poor is what Jesus did. Holding their hands is what He would do today. Ministering to them, He said, is ministering to Him. That’s a privilege. But all privileges come with a cost. In many cases, that cost is a broken heart. Sometimes, we need broken hearts.
I have been in a jungle in Thailand, where families live in shacks made of rotting wood, each built 3 feet above ground because every rainy season the entire village floods —taking lives and possessions away in the frantic current. I have seen how the families there endure the stifling heat, with little food to eat. Children, lethargic from lack of energy, don’t run or climb the massive trees that would provide perfect perches. Many of them work in the rice paddies to provide for their families.


I have been to Kenya, and sat with a family of five in their tiny 12x 14 home made of mud. I watched as the mother doled out one piece of bread to each family member for dinner. I saw her hungry children playing beneath the clothes-line with the only toys they had — clothespins. I saw where they sleep…mom, dad and three children, on one moldy mattress on the dirt floor.

In Bolivia, I met a four-year-old named Lalady. For some reason, I was drawn to her. I saw her across the playground at a Compassion project. I smiled. Within seconds, she was in my lap, touching my face with her sticky fingers…marveling at the color of my hair. We played together for nearly an hour. There was no language barrier. We just enjoyed each other's company. Then, her father came to pick her up at the project.

“She likes you.” He said in Spanish. (I know this only because there was an interpreter.)

“And I like her very much too!” I said.

“Maybe you could take her home with you.”

“Ha! Yeah! I wish I could!” I joked. Only daddy wasn’t joking. His face was serious.

“I have four other children. You could give her a much better life than I can.”

Whoa. What desperation leads a man to be willing to let his child go away with a stranger? How much love does he have for his daughter, that he’s willing to give her up, just so she can have a chance at a better life? I sat there, with little Lalady on my knee, my lip and chin quivering and my eyes filling with tears. My forehead sweating in the brutal Peruvian heat. My heart breaking.
And Lalady was one of the lucky ones. She has both parents who love her very much. She also has a sponsor that pays $32 a month to make sure she’s taken care of at the Compassion project. There, she gets a hot meal, a safe place to play. She learns about health and hygiene. More importantly, she hears about Jesus.

There are literally millions of children who need just those basic things: a hot meal, clothing, a safe haven, after-school mentoring…to hear the Gospel. You could do that for one of them. For a price that’s less than taking a family to the movies for two hours of entertainment, you can provide all of those basic life-giving necessities for a child in poverty for an entire month.

I urge you to go to Compassion's website and sponsor a child. It really is the least you can do. And I’ll be more than happy to share with you just how strategic it is. How much it changes a life. But you won’t have to take my word for it. You’ll get letters from your sponsored child, thanking you…little hand-drawn pictures telling you about his/her life. And you’ll be able to write too…and share your life with that little boy or girl on the other side of the world.

It’s a relationship.

It’s a privilege. And yes…this privilege will break your heart. Isn't it time your heart was broken?

If you've had the privilege of witnessing Compassion International's ministry in action, go to this post on Shaun Groves' blog...and tell your story. Add to the growing list of bloggers sharing their stories of ministering to the poor through Compassion.

Will You Remember Me?

This weekend I'll be in the studio again. We've been making a lot of progress on the album. In fact, three songs are completely mixed. (I put one of them on my music player on my MySpace page, it's called Forgive and Forget. Check it out when you get a chance.) We still have background vocals to cut on four songs...and a bass track to finish on another. But this weekend, I'll be focusing on something else. This weekend, I'm going to be recording a song I wrote for Compassion International. I wrote it after my trip to Kenya last August. While we were there, I met a single mother, named Anrietta, who was HIV positive. During my conversation with her, she asked me twice: "Will you remember me?" I thought it was an odd question. I told her, "Of course I will!" Later, as other members of our group were talking to this same lady, she asked them the same question: "Will you remember me?" And it dawned on me. She was afraid. She was afraid that she'd be dying soon, leaving her young daughter to fend for herself. She was afraid she'd die...and be forgotten. Then I started thinking about the 1-billion plus children who live in extreme poverty in our world. They struggle just to survive. 30,000 children die everyday, from things that could easily be prevented. Who will remember them? I suppose we all want a legacy, right? We all want to leave this world a better place than the way we found it. We all want to be remembered. So, I'm going into the studio this weekend to start recording on this song...and to remember Anrietta. I'll upload an mp3 file of it once it's done. In the meantime, here are the lyrics: Will You Remember Me? VERSE: I am naked and I am poor I’m an orphan but so much more Won’t you look beyond your own front door to save? I’m just looking for some food to eat A pair of shoes for my two bare feet And I was hoping you could meet those needs today. CHORUS: When you hear my cries, will you rescue me? Will you just walk by through the moment? When you see my tears, will you comfort me? If I disappear, will you notice? I want a legacy…but will you remember me at all? BRIDGE: What’s it matter, how I got here? What’s it matter, where I’ve been? All that matters, is I should matter… Yes, I should matter to you. CHORUS: When you hear my cries, will you rescue me? Will you just walk by through the moment? When you see my tears, will you comfort me? If I disappear, will you notice? Yes, Anrietta, I will remember you.

Thank You!

I'm so excited! Compassion International has won the Myspace Impact Award for Poverty Relief. Thank you so much for those of you who voted on Myspace to make this happen. The prize includes ad placement on the myspace homepage for one full week (so it will be seen my millions of users)...and $10,000. The money will go to support one of Compassion's many programs to help children break the cycle of poverty. Myspace also created a section on their Impact Award page, where you can learn more about Compassion and how you can get involved. Thank you to those of you who voted! This is a great opportunity for Compassion to spread its message about the biblical mandate to care for children in poverty. God bless!

MySpace Award

The organization I work for, Compassion International, has been nominated for a MySpace Impact Award, for poverty relief. Anyone who has a myspace account can vote. And you can vote once per day! So please go to the Impact Award page on MySpace and vote for Compassion International. Please tell your friends to vote too. This would be a huge opportunity for us to tell more people about the good work Compassion does. And...if you want to know more about Compassion before you vote, please email me at tim@timglennmusic.com any questions you have. I'll be happy to answer them for you. Or you can check it out for yourself, on Compassion's website. Thanks!

What's New (& What's Old) This New Year

It's 2008. Is it just me, or does that sound incredibly "space age?" I remember back in high school (in the ancient ole' 1980's) thinking, "I wonder if I'll live to see the year 2000?" 2000 was 8 years ago! Can you believe that? Remember the Y2K scare? Years ago!

Some things have changed in the past year...some have remained the same. Here are a few things from my life:

First and foremost, I became a daddy in 2007. The greatest title I've ever held. My son, Morgan Douglas Glenn was born on March 21st. What a blessing it has been this past year to experience a first Father's Day, Mother's Day, Morgan's first Thanksgiving (so much to be thankful for!) and Christmas. And oh...to watch him grow! He's 9 months old now...has seven teeth...is crawling all over the place.

I still have the same job...which, in this day and age, is a pretty good thing! I actually love my job. I'm the US Advocacy Director for Compassion International--a ministry I believe in whole-heartedly. Basically my job is to educate Christians in the US about the biblical mandate to care for children and the poor.

I visited the Philippines for the first time...and got to spend time with Jen Rina, the girl my family sponsors through Compassion International. She's a beautiful, shy young girl who does well in school, loves arts and crafts (and her dog) and who is very good about writing letters to let us know how her family is doing.

I'm still working on my new album, So Human. (Ha! I think I wrote that last New Years' Day too!) I promise, I really did make a lot of progress this year. All that's left is to re-cut a bass track on one song...and background vocals on five songs. I'm hoping to have the cd packaged and ready for you to listen to, by summer.

And, I took part in a new venture, called IndieDrive this past year. IndieDrive is a company that sells music albums on flash drives. They are focusing on independent artists like myself. The cool thing about it is, they let the artist decide what goes on the flash drive. So...my 1GB flash drive includes songs from my last album, New Pair of Shoes, some demo versions of songs from So Human, some never-before released acoustic songs (recorded live), some songs from my college band, Main Street, some downloadable photos, lyric sheets and a video. Yep. All that for $20! Check it out!

All in all, it's been a busy year. A productive year. Now that I think about it...a tiring year! Ha!

Welcome 2008! Hope your new year is a blessed one.

Evie

Last night, a friend of mine passed away. She wasn't a close friend, but someone I've known for years. Actually, we used to sing on the same worship team at church several years ago. My, what a voice! Evie kinda kept to herself, which initially led me to believe that she was a bit of a snob. I didn't care for her much when I first met her...though I certainly respected and appreciated her talents. Sad how we can so easily judge a person based on so little information. Then, a little over three years ago, I started working for Compassion International. To my surprise, I saw Evie working here too. We shared the same passion for ministering to children in poverty...and I never even knew it! It wasn't too long ago that I heard Evie was diagnosed with cancer. Co-workers pitched in money to help with meals, medical bills, etc. We even sent the family to a Disney on Ice show. She has four kids. At our recent divisional picnic, Evie was there. I sat just about five feet from her. We looked at each other and smiled...but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I don't think we needed any words that day. Though, in retrospect, I wish I would have said something. I wish I would have completely ignored the obvious and just said "hello." I've never been good at dealing with death or dying. Which is odd, because I've seen a lot of it in my life. Last night, Evie said goodbye to this world...and hello to her Maker. I pray that God will ease the pain her family must be going through today. I pray for her husband and children. In many ways, I envy her. At this very moment, she knows what it's like to bow in the presence of her Heavenly Father. She can hear the angels singing...worshipping God. And I'm sure she's singing along. My...what a voice.

Robbed!

Well, I'm back from the Philippines, but I wish I could say I came back with as much as I took. Unfortunately, that's not the case. Upon my return home, I found that someone had gone through my luggage and stolen my Sony Handycam. It was a small hand-held video camera that was really easy to use. It was a Christmas gift from my wife's parents last December. I was hoping I could get away with packing it in my checked-in luggage if I did a good job of hiding it in the middle of a pair of jeans, wrapped up, stuffed in the midst of all my dirty clothes. I was wrong. Yeah, it bothers me that the camera is missing, but more importantly, what was on it. All the video of me meeting my sponsored child is gone. I'll never have that now. And it absolutely breaks my heart. This was my once in a lifetime chance to meet Jen Rina, the little girl I sponsor through Compassion International. I had video of her singing a worship song for me...video of us hugging and playing. Video of her mother and baby brother showing me their home. My wife will never get to see it. I'll never be able to share it with you. We won't get to show the video to family members at Christmastime. I'm just sick about it. Also, I shot several clips of me walking through a Compassion project and talking to the camera. I was going to produce my own Compassion video for my website, where I talked about the work Compassion is doing...and it would include me meeting my sponsored child. It's all gone. I feel so violated. It's just stuff, I know...but it's sentimental stuff. It's important stuff. It's stuff that I'll never have the chance to replace. To the person who stole my camera: You stole more than a piece of equipment. You stole memories. You robbed me and my family of a special keepsake. I hope you are able to sell it to someone who gets good use out of it. And uses it for good.

Meeting Jen Rina

On day three of my Compassion International trip to The Philippines, I had the honor of meeting Jen Rina, the girl my wife and I have sponsored for nearly six years. I have to admit, I was anxious--though I felt like I had a pretty good grasp on what to expect. This is my seventh trip with Compassion. I have seen sponsors visit their children in Thailand, Kenya, Peru, Ecuador, Guatemala and Bolivia. I know how emotional it can be. Still, I wasn't ready for this.

It was a 45 minute drive into into the outskirts of Manila, down the crowded, busy streets filled with "tricycle" drivers and other smog-producing vehicles. Street vendors hawking their goods to the passersby can barely be heard over the noisy engines. As we drove farther away from Manila's skyscrapers, it became clearly evident that we were getting into one of the poorest parts of the city. Closer to Jen Rina's home.

Just beyond a canal that moved sewage and dirty water through the area like a slow-flowing, stenchy river, we stopped in front of a building that looked like a typical home in this part of Manila...made of cinder blocks, with a tin roof.

"Not bad" I thought. I have seen worse houses in other countries...the mud/dung huts of Kisumu Kenya, the scrap houses in Guatemala City and outside of Lima, Peru. No, this house didn't seem that bad. But it wasn't Jen Rina's house. My guide, a Compassion staff member named Nonoy, led me out of the car and beyond the curbside home. We made our way down a garbage-lined alleyway, to an open area behind that house. Nonoy stopped at the highest point in the alley and pointed to a small shack at the bottom of the hill.

"There it is."

My jaw dropped. I fought back the tears. No...this can't be it. No way my sponsored child lives like this. If I didn't know any better, I would guess that some young boys gathered scraps of wood, tin and cardboard to put together a makeshift clubhouse. The entire home is smaller than my master bedroom. It's built up against a cement building, just so the family could have one solid wall in their home.

I walked through the doorway and stepped into the dirt floor home. Inside, with a huge smile on her face, was the little girl I've been corresponding with for nearly six years now. She's adorable. Shy. Soft-spoken. So much hope in a face that lies down on a moldy mattress every night. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her for a few seconds. Her mother was there, along with her baby brother and one of her older brothers. Daddy was out working at a construction site, trying to earn his 250 pesos per day...about $5.68. Less than six bucks a day to feed his family of seven. Oh yeah, and pay the rent each month too.

I don't know why, but I always had it in my head that Jen Rina didn't live like this. Her letters spoke of the chores she's responsible for around the house: cleaning the kitchen, occasionally cooking, helping with the baby. Little did I know that the kitchen was actually a pot, where the family lights firewood to cook each night. For all the preparation I had done for this meeting, I wasn't ready to see this. Nonoy told me that her family doesn't even own this shack, they rent it. They can't afford their own home. This is one provided to them for $15 a month. And they still struggle to make the rent. My heart was breaking. Somehow, I felt like a bad sponsor. If I were only doing more, perhaps she wouldn't live this way.

I held this precious small-framed 11-year old in my arms and told her how beautiful she is. How proud I am of her for the good marks she's getting in school. Her latest report card says she "exhibits leadership qualities."

My heart wanted to say "Come with me. Come back to the states. I can give you so much more." How American of me. "I can fix your problems because I have more money." Truth is, Jen Rina is happy. She knows her Lord and Savior. She even sang a worship song and read a letter for me while I sat in her tiny home.

And that's what my $32 a month is for. My sponsorship through Compassion International makes sure that Jen Rina's basic needs are taken care of. She gets after-school tutoring, help buying her clothes for school, hygiene education, a hot meal...and she hears about her Savior, Jesus. This is who Jesus was talking about, when He said the last would be first. I'm so glad she knows Christ.

We have so much in this country. And perhaps it takes seeing something like Jen Rina's home to put things into perspective. One of the folks on this trip said, "We are the ones Jesus was talking about, when He said it would be easier for a camel to fit through the eye of a needle. We are the rich man."

Yes we are. And it is our duty...our mandate from God Himself to use our excess to help those who have little.

I'm so glad I got to finally meet Jen Rina. I will never forget it. And I hope that the little bit that I give can someday help her break the cycle of poverty in her family...so her children will never know what it's like to live in a rented shack made of scraps.

Living Amongst the Dead

“How long have you lived here?” I asked the young Filipino girl standing before me with a baby on her hip.
She smiled, exposing her decaying teeth. “All my life.”

All her life. Here, in one of the most despicable, degrading places for a family to raise a child. A cemetery. But not the type you and I are used to. There’s no neatly mowed lawn, lined with perfectly symmetrical rows of headstones.

There are no flowers gently placed at the head of each gravesite. In fact, it’s hard to tell where one grave ends and the other begins. To say this cemetery is in disrepair is a gross understatement. Garbage lines the muddy streets. Broken headstones and cracked open tombs slant along the moldy, muddy slopes that have been beaten down by far more rain than they can handle. Small stone statuettes are scattered throughout—cement angels kneeling—not out of reverence, but rather a sort of submission to the macabre of it all.

A 20-foot tall wall lines the cemetery. Upon closer inspection, you find that the wall is made up entirely of tombs…stacked one on top of the other. The wall of the dead.

Amidst the crow of a rooster and the bark of a stray dog, you hear the giggle of a child. Little boys and girls skip along the gravesites, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the entire site is covered in death. This is their home.

Hidden along the massive wall are openings the size of small doorways…perfect for a Filipino. An average American might have to duck to enter. Beyond these doorways, are homes—more like shacks made of scraps of wood and tin. It’s not unusual for a family of six or seven to call one of these shacks home. It’s where the young Filipino girl was raised…and where she will raise her baby. It’s beyond heartbreaking. No child should be raised here. No baby should have to breathe this moldy air…walk barefoot through this garbage. No child’s bed should be just on the other side of a wall from a corpse.

Compassion International is here to bring life to the cemetery. By teaching these children about their Heavenly Father, Compassion is giving Filipino boys and girls a chance at new life. It’s the very heart of the Great Commission. Because of Compassion’s ministry, some of these children will not spend their entire lives hidden within the wall of the dead. Nor will their children. This is truly light in the darkest of places.

We all live in cemeteries, I suppose. We are all skipping among the dead through this world of broken homes and hearts. The question is: what are we doing to bring life to the cemetery?