It’s always, always, a surprise when someone I know tells me they read my blog.

It’s one thing for our lives to have crossed in the virtual world first, and wholly another for us to know each other in the space where I can shake your hand or hug you neck, and for celebrations or sympathy, bring you dinner.

I wonder, really wonder, what each of you thinks when I bring you inside my heart and head through a conduit of words.  Unless you comment, email or tell me, it’s a lop-sided form of communication–and, is it even communication if I’m the only one talking?

Can you tell when I’m almost desperate for you to hear?

I’m an advocate for .

I became an advocate for Compassion International after reading the personal accounts of bloggers I already read and trusted back in 2008, and then investigating further on my own.

In 2009, I had the privilege of traveling with to India with a team of bloggers, to write and share the stories of Compassion’s work in Calcutta.  This not only confirmed what I already believed, it changed the way I viewed myself, my faith, my family…even my country.  It pretty much affected how I look at all of life from that point future.

And here’s the thing:  Today, I’m sitting here surrounded by the comfort of home, never having gone hungry or without a roof over my head or fresh clothes on my back or healthcare or free education.  When I “have” to go shopping, my pantry has enough dry goods to last two months, I bet.  Maybe longer.  When I buy a new outfit, it is never out of real need, it’s birthed in want.  And more than any of that, I have never had to worry about these things for my children.

I’m sitting here comfortable, warm, fed and happy, surrounded by more than I could ever need, except for this:

I’m longing to find all the right words that would move you to action, to . 

Because the truth is, most anyone who reads this…can.

It’s $38/month, $456/year to rescue a child from poverty.

It’s important to support local cause, it is, and I’d wager you already are.  But there’s a singular beauty in reaching your arms halfway around the globe to help someone who barely stands a chance in this life.  Compassion International extends that chance, that grace, that rescue.

There’s a pivotal scene at the end of John Grisham’s first novel, A Time to Kill, that has always haunted me.  In the movie adaptation it’s spoken by Jake Brigance, the lawyer for Carl Lee Hailey, a black man on trial for the murder of his 10-year-old daughter’s two vicious, white attackers (in the novel, it’s actually spoken by one of the jurors behind closed doors).  Turning to an all-white jury in their violently racist town, Brigance asks:

Can you see her? [speaking of Carl Lee’s daughter] Her raped, beaten, broken body soaked in their urine, soaked in their semen, soaked in her blood, left to die. Can you see her? I want you to picture that little girl.

Now imagine she’s white.

Jurors envisioning this child as one who could be their own is what earns Carl Lee acquittal by reason of temporary insanity.

It might be a stretch, but I sense a parallel here:

If our world was turned upside-down, and WE were the ones sitting in a house made of straw, unable to earn a living wage, and we had no idea where our next meal was coming from – or when it would come…that it was my child who had two shirts to wear and no shoes or doctor or dentist and such few prospects for rescue…

that someone from around the world might hear our plight and extend their hand, and do with a little less themselves, to help me.  My babies.

If we saw these impoverished children who have next to nothing as our own, how would it change what we do next?

 

And, I promise, the LAST thing I’m trying to do is heap a pile a guilt on anyone’s shoulders!  May it never be!  If anything I’m frustrated with myself for not being able to artfully, gracefully present this beautiful opportunity with the hope and dignity is deserves.

Would you play along with me for just a minute?  .  Look into the faces of these Real Children who are waiting for sponsors.  (Go…  Then pop back over here.)

A team of Compassion bloggers just returned from Uganda and their stories are incredible, inspiring and affecting.   Their truth-telling allows you to see through their eyes and walk in their steps, and powerfully so.

The goal for child sponsorships for this trip was 400.  Not 400 sponsorships, but 400 .  Help them reach this goal?

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So, yes, I wonder.  What you’re thinking as you read this plea, thankful that you’ve taken time to do so, and even more grateful if you share this post with your friends.  If you aren’t in a position to sponsor monthly, you can .