I didn't need the bloggers to tell me there is a need in Uganda for more sponsors. We've had a heart for Uganda ever since we thought we might be moving there about 6 years ago. At that time we began sponsoring our first boy, Sakulu. Craig has been to Uganda twice, got to meet Sakulu once, and had his heart seared by what he experienced.
When Sakulu died this past October, we were deeply saddened by his loss. We did the only things we could do: pray for his family, continue supporting them as long as we could (per regulation stipulations), and "adopt" a new boy. Our new boy is Quinto and he has two sisters and a brother. He is in the unique situation of living with both of his parents, and it just occurred to me as I was typing this that I need to begin praying for the health and safety of his family (for a family to grow up intact like that in Uganda is not a common thing).
We got our first letter from Quinto two days ago. He likes to eat peas and millet. His favorite color is orange. If he could visit anywhere, he would choose to go to Kampala because he could take a walk there. Quinto is 4 years old.
Before Compassion's blogging project started, I was a bit smug. Check! We've sponsored two boys from Uganda. I don't need the bloggers to convince me to do it. But now the check isn't on my list of good things, but is instead in my spirit. Okay, so you give up $40/month (he lives in an area where there is an additional $8/month need due to the AIDS-infected nature of their country). $40. Yes, it seems tight because we are, for all intents and purposes, a one-income family of 6 living on a school teacher's salary while putting Craig through seminary.
Yes, I have my list of excuses why we should be off the hook for more, but I know we're not poor. I know we make choices every month that financially put us in the top 1% of the rest of the world, particularly when you compare us with Sakulu or Quinto and his family. We pay almost $60 a month for telephone and Internet; ballet class costs $4/girl/week; my Coke Zero habit probably ends up costing us about $15/month. And the pizza I bought for the birthday party last week? $36 with tax and tip. I spent the same amount of money feeding a bunch of girls for one night that could have gone toward supplying an entire month's worth of needs for another family in another part of the world.
I have no right to complain about our financial state. Whatever state we are in is because of choices we've made. And given the opportunity to make other, better, choices, we can get out of whatever situation we're in. Quinto's family can't do that. Sakulu's family couldn't do it. There are thousands of children all over the world who can't do it.
So now my heart has been seared; I did need the bloggers after all. I needed them to remind me that living in a rental house in the city with all four girls in one bedroom and a dining room that triples as a school room, library, and office with more books, stacks, and stuff than we can even deal with is a luxury. What, we only have one bathroom for all six of us? No. Wow! We have one bathroom IN OUR HOUSE with running water and clean towels and electricity and more bottles of goo to make us smell better just for the six of us.
I am such a selfish beast. Father, forgive me for coveting the American "dream." Forgive me for my pursuit of life, love, and a free pass at Wal-Mart. Forgive me for my too-tight grip on my stuff. Forgive me for my small heart.
Now then, let me introduce you to our new boy, Dick, as of tonight. Dick is 8 and he also has three siblings. The four children live only with their father. Dick, welcome to our family. We are looking forward to getting to know you and watching you grow.
You may have seen it all over blogworld, but just in case you need another opportunity, go here and find a child and make a one night's worth of pizza money's difference in his or her life.
Updated on 2/18/08 to say that others are sharing their stories of Compassion here.
When Sakulu died this past October, we were deeply saddened by his loss. We did the only things we could do: pray for his family, continue supporting them as long as we could (per regulation stipulations), and "adopt" a new boy. Our new boy is Quinto and he has two sisters and a brother. He is in the unique situation of living with both of his parents, and it just occurred to me as I was typing this that I need to begin praying for the health and safety of his family (for a family to grow up intact like that in Uganda is not a common thing).
We got our first letter from Quinto two days ago. He likes to eat peas and millet. His favorite color is orange. If he could visit anywhere, he would choose to go to Kampala because he could take a walk there. Quinto is 4 years old.
Before Compassion's blogging project started, I was a bit smug. Check! We've sponsored two boys from Uganda. I don't need the bloggers to convince me to do it. But now the check isn't on my list of good things, but is instead in my spirit. Okay, so you give up $40/month (he lives in an area where there is an additional $8/month need due to the AIDS-infected nature of their country). $40. Yes, it seems tight because we are, for all intents and purposes, a one-income family of 6 living on a school teacher's salary while putting Craig through seminary.
Yes, I have my list of excuses why we should be off the hook for more, but I know we're not poor. I know we make choices every month that financially put us in the top 1% of the rest of the world, particularly when you compare us with Sakulu or Quinto and his family. We pay almost $60 a month for telephone and Internet; ballet class costs $4/girl/week; my Coke Zero habit probably ends up costing us about $15/month. And the pizza I bought for the birthday party last week? $36 with tax and tip. I spent the same amount of money feeding a bunch of girls for one night that could have gone toward supplying an entire month's worth of needs for another family in another part of the world.
I have no right to complain about our financial state. Whatever state we are in is because of choices we've made. And given the opportunity to make other, better, choices, we can get out of whatever situation we're in. Quinto's family can't do that. Sakulu's family couldn't do it. There are thousands of children all over the world who can't do it.
So now my heart has been seared; I did need the bloggers after all. I needed them to remind me that living in a rental house in the city with all four girls in one bedroom and a dining room that triples as a school room, library, and office with more books, stacks, and stuff than we can even deal with is a luxury. What, we only have one bathroom for all six of us? No. Wow! We have one bathroom IN OUR HOUSE with running water and clean towels and electricity and more bottles of goo to make us smell better just for the six of us.
I am such a selfish beast. Father, forgive me for coveting the American "dream." Forgive me for my pursuit of life, love, and a free pass at Wal-Mart. Forgive me for my too-tight grip on my stuff. Forgive me for my small heart.
Now then, let me introduce you to our new boy, Dick, as of tonight. Dick is 8 and he also has three siblings. The four children live only with their father. Dick, welcome to our family. We are looking forward to getting to know you and watching you grow.
You may have seen it all over blogworld, but just in case you need another opportunity, go here and find a child and make a one night's worth of pizza money's difference in his or her life.
Updated on 2/18/08 to say that others are sharing their stories of Compassion here.
