They're Back!

If you haven't been by my supervisors' blog lately, they're back in Kenya after a furlough in the States to fundraise and reconnect with family and churches. And... they've jumped back in two feet first.

Go check it out and see what they've been up to.

It Really Does Make a Diference

"The number of children under the age five who die annually has plummeted from 12 million in 1990 to 7.6 million in 2010, UNICEF and the World Health Organization (WHO) have said in a new report.

The two United Nations agencies estimate in the report that the drop means about 12,000 more children's lives are being saved each day.

They say there are many reasons for the improved under-five mortality rate, including better access to health care and preventive measures such as immunization, clean water and better nutrition."

Read the whole article here. Twenty years of effort really do make a difference. Imagine what we could accomplish in another twenty.

Take Two

Once upon a summer, we sat around a picnic table in the park and designed awareness posters. These are the ones that the kids made + a few Picnik effects to make them a little more internet friendly. (Or try to, visual arts are not my strong point.)

Yard Sale!

Saturday morning, we piggy backed on my family's yard sale to raise funds for The Hope House in North Carolina and a well project in Zambia, Africa.

The kids collected yard sale type donations from their friends and neighbors, and showed up as early as 6:45 in the morning to get things set up and ready to go. The ever useful cage boxes were put to use again. And, of course, being us, we had some strange conversations and spent some time being more or less ridiculous.

All told, they raised $211.35 between the two organizations.

Hope House fundraiser = DONE

Well:being fundraiser = 11% of a deep well

Not too shabby!

"It taught me to be humble and to help those who are in need, whether they are rich or poor"

 

After 9/11, a Masai man from central Kenya, who had been in America on the day of the attacks, inspired his tribe to offer the greatest gift and the strongest condolences they could offer to the American people, a herd of fourteen cows. To the Masai, a cow offers peace and comfort. And, although many of the elders had never seen an airplane up close or a building that could hold so many people, it was clear that peace and comfort were what was needed.

He went on to publish the story as a picture book, "Fourteen Cows for America."

After reading the story book in school, a Kenyan girl responded that, "It taught me to be humble, and to help those who are in need, whether they are rich or poor."

Read the entire news story here. It can be powerful to realize that "our" story is not ours and ours alone. Somewhere, on the plains of Kenya, there is a herd of cows being carefully tended to, each one bearing a brand on their ear in the form of the Twin Towers.

Authentic

"If you want to make a change in this world, if you want to embody an active faith, be actively involved in talking with God. Fight the urge to say the words you think he wants to hear, but instead open yourself up to discover the truth of who he really is.

You need not wait a day to live justly and change the world you live in. God uses broken, backwards, burned, and hurting people everyday to do extraordinary things.

I would, however, recommend that before you throw yourself into the fight against injustice every morning that you would push yourself to be authentic and honest (whatever that may look like) with our God. I promise you that, if you want it, God will tear down the false walls you’ve built around him and rebuild your heart to see him, yourself, and humanity the way we were meant to."

(From the World Vision ACT:S blog)

Again

There are moments, when I look around a room at a group of forty-some highschoolers who came to youth group on a long weekend, their heads bowed close together over pieces of paper that say things like, "Somalia," "Sudan," "Haiti," and "Afghanistan," that I can feel the presence of God settle over the room like a blanket.

They utter the simple phrase, "Do you want to do it Haitian style?" and I know that He smiles as their voices fold over and into each other in a rhythm that only He can pick out. 

Every time that I think that I could not possibly fall any more in love with these kids, they turn around with those not-quite-grown-up eyes that carry more stories than we could cover in a month of Sundays, and I find out that I was wrong. Again. For the dozenth time that night.