Trying Something New

I am fully aware that leaving a post on someone’s blog can be a scary thing—especially if you don’t know that person personally (as in face to face). At times, I too am guilty of being a blog lurker who drops by to read the latest without leaving even a trace of myself behind. In fact, I’ve already done that a few times today.

Recently, it’s been brought to my attention (thank you, Stat Counter) that I’ve had some new blog friends visiting and I want to take a moment to issue a warm welcome to those of you from Missouri, Illinois, Georgia, Louisiana, Nevada, New York, Rhode Island, Florida, Kentucky, Arizona, North Carolina, Indiana, New Jersey, Australia, and Oregon. If you are from anywhere else and I missed you, welcome to you too. If this was my house, and not my blog, I’d offer you a place to sit and something to drink and I would try to make you feel at home. Since this is my blog, I can’t do that. But I do want you to know that I know you are here, and I’m glad you stopped by. I also appreciate my face to face friends who drop by and comment regularly. Nothing is worse than blogging and having no one comment (well, unless you blog about something and only receive a bunch of negative comments. I suppose that’s worse).

So, in an effort to make my blog more interactive and friendly, I am going to be trying a few new things over the next few days and weeks in hopes that more of you will get comfortable and make your presence known. Since offering a comment might not be your thing, I’m going to offer you another alternative to leave your mark on my blog (and even attract more people to yours).

Below you will see a new widget (just typing that word makes me feel a little geeky) I’m test piloting today. My friend Kathy has a parakeet named Chewbacca. He has to be the smartest bird I’ve ever met. She’ll turn to him and ask, “Can you recommend a good book?” His answer is always the same. In a voice that sounds more like a man than a bird he answers, “Read the Bible.” While I agree with Chewbacca that we should all be reading the Bible daily, I also want to know what else you are reading as I am always look for new books to add to my list.

So, here’s what you do: blog about a book you are currently reading (or one of your favorite books of all time) on your blog and then type your name and the link to your post (not your blog, but that particular post on your blog) below. That way we can all benefit from your knowledge. I’ll go first and link back to the post I wrote a few weeks ago reviewing Wess Stafford’s book Too Small to Ignore just so you can see how it works. If you have questions, leave them in the comments section below.

To see an example of how these widgets work you can click here.

I look forward to seeing what kind of books you guys come up with. Again, welcome to the blog (read: don’t leave me feeling stupid and vulnerable by not using my new widget below). Happy Wednesday!

P.S. I realize the "In Other Words" link is really supposed to be used for expounding on quotes. But before I purchase the customizable widget I want to see how many of you will actually use it.

Cooking with Mandisa

I feel a little like Rachael Ray. Since the latter half of my day is scheduled to be a lot more hectic than my morning and early afternoon were, I cooked dinner around two o'clock today. Don't worry, I didn't eat dinner then. I just cooked it ahead and put it in the fridge so it's ready to go when Michael and I are hungry. That's not a tip I learned from Rachael Ray (although I have learned many), so I'm not quite sure why that made me feel like her. Perhaps because it seems like something you would see on her show.

A few posts ago, I wasn't shy about confessing the fact that I sing and dance with reckless abandon while I cook. Today was no different. As I was moving and grooving around my kitchen an idea came to me (the shock!) about a regular new feature I want to have on my blog. Each week I plan to share both a song and a recipe that I have been enjoying. You will be able to recognize these posts by their titles. They will always start out with the words, "Cooking With..."

Since I am trying to master the art of making food taste good, rather than the art of making food look good, I can't promise I will post pictures of my creations. But if I'm feeling generous, I just might. And that has potential comedic value you might not want to miss. So, even if you don't cook, these blog posts still might be worth your time. Especially when I feature photos of failed attempts with the disclaimer, "Don't try this at home." I'm planning on making a standing bunny shaped cake around Easter that I can almost promise you will fall into this category.

So, the other night I was cooking and dancing when Michael happened to find his way into the kitchen. The song playing had such a good rhythm to it that he was even bobbing his head before long. "Who is this?" His entire upper body was moving by the time he asked this question. For those of you who watched American Idol a few seasons ago, the artist won't be hard for you to recognize.

Mandisa is one of my new favorites because she is an excellent Christian artist with a really good beat. She makes running on an elliptical seem fun. My endurance is always in full force when her voice is bellowing through my little ear buds. Cooking with her is a workout too. My favorite song on her album is entitled, "It's Only the World" which you can listen to a sample of on her website under the "Music" section. It's a great reminder that this world is passing away, and someday the frustrations we worry about here just won't matter.

My favorite recipe right now is both low calorie and easy to make (which is a pretty good combo if you ask me). But it also isn't short on flavor. A few weeks ago we had friends over for dinner and they asked for the recipe before they left. Michael asks me to make it at least once a week. It's a recipe that our friend Eric (who lives in Kentucky) would say "will make you want to smack your granny." In normal people talk that means it's good. It's called Spicy Honey Brushed Chicken Thighs. Enjoy!

Skinless, boneless thighs cook quickly and are more flavorful than white meat, so they need fewer ingredients. Serve with garlic-roasted potato wedges and tossed salad.

Ingredients
2 teaspoons garlic powder

2 teaspoons chili powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon paprika

1/2 teaspoon ground red pepper

8 skinless, boneless chicken thighs

Cooking spray

6 tablespoons honey

2 teaspoons cider vinegar

Preparation: Preheat broiler.

Combine first 6 ingredients in a large bowl. Add chicken to bowl; toss to coat. Place chicken on a broiler pan coated with cooking spray. Broil chicken 5 minutes on each side.
Combine honey and vinegar in a small bowl, stirring well. Remove chicken from oven; brush 1/4 cup honey mixture on chicken. Broil 1 minute. Remove chicken from oven and turn over. Brush chicken with remaining honey mixture. Broil 1 additional minute or until chicken is done.

Yield
4 servings (serving size: 2 chicken thighs)
Nutritional Information
CALORIES 321(31% from fat); FAT 11g (sat 3g,mono 4.1g,poly 2.5g); PROTEIN 28g; CHOLESTEROL 99mg; CALCIUM 21mg; SODIUM 676mg; FIBER 0.6g; IRON 2.1mg; CARBOHYDRATE 27.9g
David Bonom ,
Cooking Light, MARCH 2007

What It Means To Be A Fan

If I thought it was scientifically possible, I would believe that my husband was actually born wearing a Yankee hat. Primicerio family lore has it that he was only moments old when his beautiful baby head was christened with a Yankee cap for the very first time. Three generations of grown men still tear up when they recount the moment. For this Long Island baseball family, the Yankees aren't just a team they are the team--even now that most of the family has moved out West.

So lucky for my Derek Jeter loving husband, I spent most of my own childhood with a long blonde ponytail popping out the back of a baseball cap as I sat field level at stadium after stadium chanting my fair share of "Hey batter, batter..." I grew up breathing baseball in much the same manner Michael did, with the only main difference being I was always a baseball fan and Michael was always exclusively a Yankee fan. My family traveled a lot growing up, so each season I just adopted one of the teams whose stadium we had recently visited as my team of choice.

That all changed in November 2004 when Michael got down on his knee and asked me to marry him. I knew a promise to love, honor and cherish him also meant a commitment to love the Yankees and only the Yankees for the rest of my baseball loving life. I gladly accepted. The Yankees are part of the Primicerio family heritage. You wear the name, you support the team. Period. When I married Michael he had all sorts of Yankee paraphernalia. Now days, that paraphernalia has multiplied and also comes in female sizes. Baseball is a huge part of how we bond as a couple. The beginning of the season is celebrated in our house, and it's end is always lamented...unless the Yankees win the World Series. Then off-season bragging rights are ours and the five months of life without baseball don't seem so dismal.

In our short married life (2.5 years) we have traveled to seven baseball stadiums in various parts of the country together. But no experience even competes with where we went last year--for our two year anniversary nonetheless. Our time at Yankee Stadium--the house that Ruth built--was one of the most memorable things we have ever done together. Touring Monument Park and reveling in the history, sitting a stone's throw away from Johnny Damon who liked to clown around with the fans, and remembering all of the stories Michael's grandfather told us about the time he got to meet Joe DiMaggio. That was a good day.

You may wonder why I am blogging about the Yankees in February. The Yankees come to Orange County and play the local Anaheim Angels twice every year--and tickets for both of the series' sell out minutes after single game seats go on sale. Ticket sales to see the Yankees play in Orange County are capped off at four per person (fewer than any other team) because they are in such high demand.

Those very tickets go on sale this Saturday. Complicating things for us, we are also supposed to be at our church marriage retreat this Saturday. We'll be in the car driving the moment tickets go on sale. As we sat and pondered how we could manage to buy our tickets, and still arrive at our retreat on time, I came up with a solution.

"I've got it," I said to Michael enthusiastically. "You bring your laptop with wireless Internet, and as you drive I'll log on and reserve our tickets. We'll have our Yankee tickets and still be in our seats by the time the retreat starts." Something, that I would like to think was admiration, flickered in his eyes when I told him of my plan. It was settled. We could do two things at once.

That--and spending two hours hunting all over New York for the perfect Yankee shirt--is what it means to be a true fan.

Third Day Live in Concert: The Recap

People who know me well enough to know what I keep on my i-Pod are fully aware of the fact that I have been known to take Third Day with me to the gym, in the car and almost anywhere else I go. They came with me to Peru via the i-Pod in 2006, and they were with me in my kitchen when I was rocking out and cooking dinner just last week. At Christmastime, my neighbors can even attest to the fact that I put Third Day's version of "O Holy Night" on repeat and blasted it all season long. Sadly they might think it's the only Christmas song I know. But it's not, it's just my favorite. And I love the way Third Day covers that song. Mac Powell has such an amazing voice that when I sing along with him he can even make me sound good, and that's nothing short of miraculous.

So, you can imagine my excitement when a friend (who has wished to remain anonymous) came to me a few weeks ago and said that she had arranged for me to have two tickets and "Meet & Greet" passes for their February 20th show at the House of Blues in San Diego. I think I turned into the equivalent of a giddy little girl who had just received 22 Barbies for Christmas. Yes, I was that excited. Sadly, since the tickets said "No cameras allowed" I didn't bring my camera only to find out that both Third Day and HOB encouraged pictures. So, I don't have any photo proof that last night I actually got to meet the band. And since I own all of their music via i-Tunes I didn't even have a CD for them to sign. Lame. I could have made up for it by saying something like, "I love your music and take you with me everywhere on my i-Pod." But I didn't. And now I will probably go down in history as the most bland fan the band has ever met.

However, they weren't bland at all. I was really impressed with how humble and genuine all of the guys were. They thanked us for coming to see them. And Mac even asked for prayer for his throat since it wasn't feeling quite right last night. As I watched them perform I kept thinking to myself, I hope I look like I'm having that much fun when I use my gifts to bring glory to God. The show was absolutely fantastic. Their energy was so contagious that before I knew it I was jumping up and down and pumping my fist in the air right along with them (which is normal behavior when I am alone in my kitchen with Third Day not when I am in a public place with hundreds or thousands of people). I caught a glimpse of Michael laughing at me a few times, but I didn't let him spoil my fun. When we met the band he was just as tongue tied as I was. So he's got nothing on me.

Third Day is continuing to tour, so I highly recommend you see them live. Now that I have, I will most definitely go again. In fact, I think I might even become one of those crazy fans that travels vast distances to see them in concert. Yes, they were that good. What did you expect? They're Third Day.

Living for the Applause of the Crowd

I received an email today from a twelve-year-old girl who is reading one of my books. For privacy’s sake we’ll call her Jane. She liked what I had to say about our need to make sure we surround ourselves with friends who will encourage us to grow in our walks with the Lord, and our need to distance ourselves from people who are constantly trying to lure us into sin with seductive temptations. But (there is almost always a but when I hear from pre-teen and teen girls) Jane didn’t want to distance herself from her non-Christian or blatantly compromising friends for fear that she would quickly find herself completely friendless. I know the feeling well.

In high school, I spent more than my fair share of Friday nights at home crying into my pillow in frustration because everyone I knew—Christian and non Christian alike—was heading out to the next wild party. So I completely understand where Jane is coming from. The pressure to fit in is overwhelming at twelve-years-old. But, it’s not much different at twenty-six. Sure, I’m not invited to many wild parties anymore but there are still many people whom I would like to impress with my words or actions. The temptation to please people is always lurking just below the surface in my life. If you were to ask me what I struggle with the most, hands down people- pleasing would be my answer. I have always longed to hear the applause of other people in my life. And it is on that battlefield that I wage war every single day. In fact, my very first book (The Divine Dance) was written about learning to turn your back to the crowd and dance for the Audience of One.

Sure, my struggle takes on various different forms—feeling awkward when Michael and I are the only people not drinking at his company events, wondering if I’m a bad Christian because I don’t serve in as many ministries as other people I know, feeling self conscious when I am in a crowded gym full of people much more fit and more familiar with the equipment than I am, etc…But my addiction to the approval of other people always boils down to one thing: I’ve created an idol. Sometimes the idol I am worshipping is the ideal version of me that I try to portray to other people. Other times my idol is the actual person or group I am seeking applause from.

So, in my response to Jane I took her back to Exodus 20:3 where God instructs His people to “have no other gods before [Him].” Back in biblical times the word gods was most likely used to refer to pagan idols that came in statue form. Those idols were easy to identify. If you’re bowing down to a statue it’s pretty obvious. But the problem for most of us is that we don’t bow down to statues. Instead we worship people, positions, reputations, pop culture, fashion, ministry, money, etc…The list really could go on forever. And over and over again the gods we pay homage to leave us disappointed, frustrated and feeling cheated.

Detecting the idols you are worshiping isn’t an easy task. Especially since idol worship is often championed by the people in our lives who like the attention we are paying them or who are reaping the benefits of our misguided efforts. If you’re waiting for someone else to point out your idols to you, that might be an indication that the someone else you are waiting for is your idol.

Jane wrote back to me regarding my response. She knew what I was saying was true, “but it’s just so hard.” I know, Jane. Trust me, I know. But not doing the right thing because it’s hard isn’t an excuse. Each and every day we all have the same choice to make: Am I going to surrender lordship of my life to Jesus Christ or am I going to worship at the alter of a lesser god whom I will never please and who will never satisfy the deepest cravings of my soul?

When we phrase it like that, the choice becomes just a little bit easier. So, I challenge you—in the same way I challenged Jane—to evaluate your own idols and to demote them to their proper places in your life, if they have any rightful place in your life at all.

Fitness in Numbers

I went to the gym this morning with three of my friends: Natalie, Tussany and Erica. We spent some time on the ellipticals to warm up (Tussany and Erica had already taken a half hour of Power Kickboxing by the time Natalie and I arrived), and then the four of us took a yoga class. There was nothing mystical or spiritual about this class--it was purely a physical workout. Contrary to popular belief there was no chanting and no meditation. But there was plenty of stretching as we bent our bodies into pretzels.

My favorite was the "flamingo" pose. We were instructed to bend at the waist and put one arm behind our backs. Then we were to reach our other hand between our legs until we could grab the hand behind our backs. Once our hands were clasp we were instructed to stand on one leg and hold that pose for a period of several minutes. It was so difficult and awkward that I could hardly keep myself from bursting out laughing. The best part of the experience was the funny looks my friends and I exchanged with each other. At one point Erica looked back at me and mouthed, "This is hard." I was so relieved to know she felt the same way. Later in the class, when we were bent over in a pose that allowed us to see the person behind us, I made a funny face at Natalie. She laughed, but I''m not sure if she was laughing at me or the absurdity of the poses.

I've blogged, and even written in some of my books, about my desire to get fit and lost weight in the past. Having a mom with Type 2 diabetes, I know I am at risk for some serious health problems in the future if I don't get certain things pertaining to diet and fitness under control at this point in my life. Sometime in the next several years I want to have a baby, and I know that I'll be healthier--and quite possibly my baby will be healthier--if I can lose some weight before then. I'm not talking about becoming super-model skinny--but I am talking about dropping about 26 pounds and getting out of the "Diabetes Danger Zone." For the last two years I've tried in earnest to do this--and I've made some progress because my number of pounds to lose used to be much higher.

But this morning, as I challenged myself in a yoga class with three friends I actually believed that this will be the year that I achieve my fitness goals. Why? Because I don't have to do it alone. I have friends (and a husband) to workout with. Several friends have even offered to help me reach a fitness milestone by running a 5K with me later this year. With friends who maintain healthy lifestyles and eat balanced diets, the social aspect of eating even becomes easier. Today, after yoga, the girls and I grabbed some Jamba Juice and sat out in the sun and absorbed a little Vitamin D courtesy of the California sunshine.

And, when I got home, I signed up for a nifty online tool I learned about in Fitness Magazine that will help me track my diet and exercise progress to help ensure that this really is the year that I get to my target weight and live a healthier lifestyle.

Today I realized that it's not so bad to spend an hour doing things like the flamingo or the warrior (pictured) if I'm not doing it alone.

Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad!

The year was 1976. And it was Valentine’s Day. The bridesmaids wore long red dresses with big white floppy hats, and the groomsmen wore pink ruffled shirts under their tuxedos (it was 1976, remember). Thirty-two years ago today my parents were married in a small Baptist church a few blocks from the Pacific Ocean. Back then they had no clue about what marriage was really like and the two people they would grow to be in the years to come.

Recently, as I was looking through old family photos I came across this photo from their wedding. The pose looked strikingly familiar to me and I quickly realized why. At my dad’s company Christmas party in December they had taken a professional portrait and when instructed by the photographer to “snuggle up” they instinctively went into the same pose they did on their wedding day. When I showed them these two photos side by side they laughed. They hadn’t done it on purpose. After thirty-two years of marriage that pose was just comfortable and familiar.

Over the years life together has become comfortable and familiar to them. They’ve weathered many storms together, and are currently enduring one as my dad is still recovering from his accident last November. And, now that I’m married I look at their marriage with new eyes. My parents are happier today than I think they have been at any other point in their marriage. How does that happen? How does each new day get better than the last?

I wasn’t around for the first six years of their marriage, and I was too little to remember much of the next four or five. So I don’t really know much about what the first decade of their marriage was like. But here are a few of the observances I’ve made over the last few decades about what makes marriage work:

Use your gifts to compliment one another. My mom is a phenomenally gifted Bible teacher, and my dad fears public speaking in a way he doesn’t fear much else. But for a period of a few years during my childhood my parents taught 4th and 5th grade Sunday school together during our midweek church service. My mom is the type of person who can really dig into the Bible and present its truths accurately and with practical application. My dad is an innovative and creative thinker who made the history of the Bible come alive with sugar cube replicas of Solomon’s temple and a paper mache Goliath who towered over us small kids armed with marbles and slingshots. Together the two of them taught the most popular Sunday school class in our church—fifth graders literally lamented their graduation to middle school because they had to leave this class.

Adapt to the other person’s interests. My mom likes football, while my dad prefers drag racing. My dad loves sailing in the ocean, while my mom prefers to stay in the safe and secluded bay. My mom likes reading novels, where my dad prefers non-fiction. But over the years the two of them have made time for the other person’s interests as a way of making time for the other person. In the years since I’ve been gone from home there’s hardly been a weekend I’ve called home to find the two of them doing their own things. Whatever they are doing, they are almost always doing it together. I never worried about leaving them when I moved away to college. Because of their commitment to do things together, I always knew they’d be fine without me.

Leave enough spontaneity to keep it interesting. For as long as I have known him my dad has had a penchant to do things on a whim. Growing up I always knew that getting in the car after church on Sunday only meant one thing: we weren’t going home. My mom and I hardly ever knew where we were going, but we both knew it certainly wasn’t home. In the early years this drove my mom (and certainly me) crazy. But she’s adapted to his adventures and now I think she even welcomes them. Four years ago, the last family vacation we took before I got married (although we didn’t know it at the time) was the result of one of my dad’s spontaneous itches. After a five minute conversation about cheap airfare he told me to book a trip to Boston for the three of us. A few minutes later, after the trip was booked, the two of us told my mom, “Happy birthday—we’re taking you to Boston to celebrate your big day!” She looked at us confused and stunned. But a few minutes later she jumped into trip planning with the same amount of enthusiasm as if she had thought of the idea herself.

I could write about my parents, and about marriage, for pages. These insights I have shared with you are part of my heritage because they are part of my parent’s story. Today my mom is the owner of a brand new pink video i-Pod engraved with a sentimental message that she absolutely loves but doesn’t know how to operate. I’m not too worried about it though. My dad is an i-Pod expert, I’m sure he’ll have her up and running before the week is over. Marriage is a classroom and your spouse is your constant teacher. In my parent’s school, I know they both give each other an A+ and for that, I’m truly grateful.

Immeasurable Impact

Each of us wonders at one time or another if the way we are investing our lives makes a difference. From experience, I can tell you that nobody wonders that as much as a professional writer. For the last six years I have spent a bulk of my time writing to an audience that doesn’t have a face and doesn’t have a name. Occasionally I get to meet small groups that represent my overall audience, but I have never once been able to stand on one stage and look out into an auditorium filled with every single person who has ever read one of my books. On a fairly regular basis I receive emails telling me tear-jerking stories of lives that have been touched by words God used me to write or speak. I print many of them out and slip them into a manila folder labeled “Smile File” that I read on days when I feel like quitting.

I was a twenty-year old college student the first time I was offered a publishing contract. Because of my age I think my perspective on impact has always been skewed. You see, in hindsight I can see that I entered the publishing world with what I now call “the rock star mentality.” That isn’t meant to be a slam against musicians in any way. There is a huge difference between a musician and a rock star. A musician plays music. A rock star builds an image. As a young person wanting to make a huge impact, I figured the best way to change the most lives was to build the biggest platform. Huge people reach huge amounts of people, right?

And I’ve spent the last year of my life fighting a constant feeling of failure because I didn’t succeed in becoming a rock star author. The way I saw it, I missed my mark. I wasn’t reaching the masses and so I had squandered my gift. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been given opportunities to become a rock star writer—I had, on many occasions been invited to align with people with huge platforms. And, one editor even promised to make me a household name. “You can be the Christian Britney Spears,” he promised as he asked me to go lighter on Scripture in one of my manuscripts. When I declined he told me I was missing the mark of popularity. That editor is no longer in Christian publishing, and Britney Spears has her own problems these days so I am grateful that I didn’t sell my soul.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still wonder about the impact I am making. Since I can never see all of the audience I am writing to, the only measurement I have for my success comes in the form of sales numbers. Some months my numbers are great—on several occasions editors have sent me notes telling me I’m on my way to “arriving.” Other months are just downright bad. The bulk of my career has been spent hovering right around “average.” My husband makes his living in sales, and in a way I do too. But when people don’t buy insurance from him, they don’t buy his product. When people don’t buy one of my books, they don’t buy me. It is very hard to separate your sense of worth from your sales numbers when the product you essentially sell is you.

This week something happened that finally gave me a small glimpse of the footprint I am leaving behind as I work my way through this life and into eternity. A package arrived on Wednesday containing two copies of the Dutch language edition of my book Being a Girl Who Serves—the book with my lowest sales numbers here in the US. To date, my writing is available in several languages but I don’t always get the foreign language copies right away. And sometimes I don’t see them at all.

I sat for awhile taking in the sight of my name on the cover—it was the only thing that still appeared in English. I couldn’t read anything else! Then I got up and took the book to the shelf I have reserved just for my books and put the book next to the English version. As I stood back and surveyed my “body of work” it was the first time in months that I haven’t felt like a failure in the world of writing. Suddenly I realized that a successful life isn’t marked by the loudest applause. Instead, a successful life is measured by whether or not you keep going when you want to give up.

After my epiphany, I sat back down at my desk and slowly began to make note of others I know who may wonder about their impact. At the top of my list there were the two couples who head up the Marriage Ministry at my church. When you consider that the divorce rate is higher in Christian circles than it is in the secular world, it’s a pretty important thing to fight for the survival of marriages. If those two couples had the ability to look down the corridor of time, there is a very good chance that they would see generations of children who could proudly say that their parents and grandparents stayed married because family cycles of divorce were broken due to the resources this ministry--and these couples--provides. My list of people making immeasurable impacts went on for pages.

And I realized that I certainly am not the only one who wonders about these things. If today is a day you are wondering about your own impact, rest assured that you, too, are most likely hitting your mark. Manage the gift(s) God has given you well. Don’t buy into the lie that applause and accolades determine success. Instead, invest your life to the best of your ability and trust that your return will come in heaven even if you don’t get a glimpse of it here. It's like I said in my very first book, The Divine Dance, life is all about living for the Audience of One.

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." --2 Timothy 4:7

Book Review: Too Small To Ignore

For the past year Michael and I have partnered with Compassion International to sponsor a little boy in Burkina Faso and a college student in Kenya. Through our letter writing, we have built life changing relationships with the two of them and it has been fascinating to watch the two of them grow in stature and confidence, as well as in their relationships with God . There is just something about seeing someone who was once too entrenched in poverty to smile as he now lights up a photo with joy. Right now, Michael and I are praying about more ways we can possibly get involved with Compassion, and if any of those come to fruition this blog will be one of the first places I announce it.

But right now, the thing I want to focus on is a book I just finished reading by Compassion's President and CEO, Dr. Wess Stafford. Too Small To Ignore is a phenomenal book that is part biography (the first half focuses heavily on Stafford's upbringing as a missionary kid on the Ivory Coast of Africa) that shows you how God cultivated a heart for the impoverished in Stafford while he was still a child himself, and part call to action (the second half of the book is a practical and biblical explanation about why caring for the poor, and caring for children is part of the call of the Christian life).

One of the things Michael and I appreciate the most about Compassion, is their commitment to make the gospel central to their humanitarian efforts. In one portion of the book, Stafford beautifully explains why it is impossible to meet the deepest needs of the impoverished without first bringing them the gospel. This is true for two reasons. The eternal impact of leading someone to Christ is ultimately the foremost goal, and that doesn't really need a further explanation. But there is also another reason that comes into play in the present as well. And that reason is harder to explain to those of us who live in the Western World where poverty means not being able to afford designer shoes.

Another reason that poverty cannot be eradicated apart from the gospel is because the gospel brings something that a single warm meal given in goodwill can't. Worth. People who have no economic resources, no knowledge or skills, no government that hears their voice and fights on their behalf and who don't have proper vaccinations, clean water or any form of healthcare simply do not feel as if their situation can ever improve. Ultimately they don't believe they are worth saving. However, if you bring Jesus Christ into that picture that changes everything. When you are able to explain that there is a God in heaven who loved these people so much that He sent His only Son to die on their behalf, a sense of worth is born in those who have spent their lives feeling worthless and hopeless.

Then, when an organization like Compassion comes in and provides economic resourses, education and vaccinations a world of oppotunity is opened up and these people begin to jump at the chance of making something of their lives so that they can tell more people about Jesus Christ. I absorbed every word of Stafford's book hungrily. The passages of Scripture that he unpacked to demonstrate his points were both accurately interpreted and well explained. I believe every word that he wrote because I have watched Compassion change the lives of one little boy and one young twenty-something on an impoverished continent. And I have stood both humbled and amazed that I have been able to be part of that journey.

In coming weeks I hope to tell you more about my relationships with Robert and Issouf and how they have changed the way I see the world. But this post is getting rather long. My intention tonight is to offer a whole-hearted endorsement of Wess Stafford's book to anyone who is interested in helping those in poverty, investing in the life of a child and changing the world. And I also want to offer my whole-hearted endorsement of Compassion International as an organization. They have the higest rating possible through Charity Navigator, and they handle all of their funds with integrity. They truly do bring "Compassion in Jesus' name."

"Open your mouth for the speechless, In the cause of all who are appointed to die. Open your mouth, judge righteously, And plead the cause of the poor and needy." --Proverbs 31:8-9