411 shoeboxes, to be exact.

Turns out, that’s the most of any organization in St. Joseph, according to our local newspaper.

So St. Joseph Christian has something they can be proud of. They’ve got LOTS of other things (if you ask me), but that’s not the point I want to make.

It’s the response, as evidenced by the first comment to the news article referenced above. It’s a comment I see almost every time there’s news about an organization making a difference in the lives of people overseas.

“Don’t forget about all of the kids here in the United States that need help too!”

Sure, it’s an innocent statement. It’s well-intentioned. And there’s truth… there ARE kids here with needs.

But not to the level of those overseas.

Have you seen the needs of a third-world child? Have you looked into their eyes, seeing their hurt first-hand? Have you seen their distended bellies, their scabies-infested skin, or lice-filled hair? Have you seen where they live? The food they eat (when they’re fortunate enough to have it)? The polluted streams they drink from?

Do you know any of their stories? Perhaps how one of their siblings has died due to malnutrition or lack of medical care? Or perhaps how their parents often see them as liabilities rather than blessings because of the poverty in which they live? Or perhaps how they’re forced into hard labor (or worse) just to survive?

And perhaps worst of all… have you seen how little hope their futures hold?

I have. And I can’t ignore it.

You see, simply by virtue of being born in the wealthiest country in the world, we have every advantage… every possibility… every chance we truly need at a future. Even the poor amongst us can have hope for a better tomorrow.

Not so in other parts of the world.

So forgive me if I get worked up about it. There’s just something inherently “unfair” about all of this.

Children everywhere deserve the right to hope.

If 411 shoeboxes can ensure that 411 more children have that right, that’s something all of us should stand up and applaud.

– We feel led to adopt a child, and are taking steps to do so. This is our “Just 1″ story.
– We want to share our “Just 1″ story with you, and encourage you to discover yours by providing ministry opportunities to orphans.

Be sure to check it out when you get a chance, and please prayerfully consider partnering with us in some manner.

As of this moment, our biggest need is that we have 15 orphans at an orphanage in Guatemala we are partnering with that need sponsors to help ensure their long-term needs can be met. We’re also needing prayer for many things (listed here), and would greatly appreciate knowing that you are lifting these many concerns up to God!

God bless!

You see, I’ve written about the poverty I witnessed in the Dominican. In no place was this more dramatic than in the refugee area. It’s difficult to process, but critical to remember. These memories and mental images are simply too powerful… too impactful in shaking up my world and in molding my heart.

So, the refugee area…

I’m not exactly sure I understand the ins and outs of this place. I’m not exactly certain what the people in this area were taking refuge from. I’m not exactly certain how or why these people ended up here. But I do know one thing… I can’t help but wonder what kind of place these people lived in before if THIS is a place of refuge for them.

Seriously.

How can shacks with leaking tin roofs, drafty cobbled-together walls and dirt floors, housing families of five or six in 80 square foot areas… how can this be a place of refuge?

How can a place with mud streets flowing with polluted water be a place of refuge?

How can a place with starving, parasite infested, scabies-covered children be a place of refuge?

How can any people allow this kind of place to continue to exist?

How can God allow this place to continue to exist?

What can I do to make a difference in places like this?

What can we, as Americans, do to make a difference in places like this?

How can we, who have so much, live with ourselves knowing we have so much while people living in areas like this have so little?

What response should I have to witnessing this?

There is so much I just don’t understand… so many questions for which I have no good answers.

But I do have images burned in my mind… images that impact me deeply.

How do they affect you?

Yes, culture shock. In my native culture. Following a trip to a culture that can probably best be described as “other” in comparison.

Who’d have thought?

It seems to stem from the fact that we are such a privileged people here in the United States… we have our every desire right at our fingertips. For food, there’s a supermarket. If you need clothing, there’s a mall. If you need a car, credit’s not that hard to find… for just 60 easy payments or so, you can have that brand new [insert model here]. Shelter? We rarely give it a second thought. Clean water? Not a moment’s.

It’s so odd. When we arrived home early Friday morning, we pulled in the drive and I just sat there, staring at the comparative mansion I’m privileged to own. A far cry from the dirt floored, tin-walled shacks I saw in the Dominican, I felt shame to have so much for myself, Nancy, and my three kids.

As I drive down the highway, I can’t help but be amazed at what I see. Bright shiny new vehicles, left and right… all cruising down the road in an orderly fashion (well, for the most part). If we see a motorcycle, it’s usually a big Harley or a Honda Goldwing… with at most two riders. I can’t help but envision the highways in the Dominican, full of 150cc Honda knock-offs, weaving every which way with as many as six people riding (yes, six!). I can’t help but recall the bumping and lurching of the bus we rode in the Dominican (to think, we complain of potholes).

When I entered Wal-Mart to pick up a couple items we needed, I couldn’t help but envision the Dominican market, with all its small vendors, each peddling their own unique wares. And I remember the smell of the meat market, the “fresh” fish, and the live chickens waiting for slaughter. I’m amazed at how we have everything available at our fingertips.

And when I flew from Dallas to Kansas City at night, I was utterly amazed at the millions of points of light shining up at me from the ground. We light our highways, even entirely vacant parking lots. There, light is a privilege, available only if you’re lucky enough to be the recipient of a few hours of electricity in the middle of a rolling blackout.

As I witness all these things, and continue to be reminded of the gap between us “haves” and the Dominican “have-nots”, I struggle mightily with one main question:

Why?

Why are we so blessed to have so much, while the Dominicans have so little?

Why was I blessed to be born in the United States?

I have a feeling I’ll be struggling with these for a LONG time.

They want to hug us, hold our hands, tug at our shirts… anything to be close to us. They want to be held, played with… loved. And, amazingly, they all seem to be filled with joy.

Yes, joy. Though so many of them live in conditions most of us here in America wouldn’t subject our pets to, these kids are filled with joy.

It’s simply amazing. I’ve been almost completely overcome by emotion by seeing the poverty in this nation, particularly as it pertains to children. Yet these kids shine with joy unlike that I’ve seen almost anywhere. It lifts my heart.

And to see them play, particularly with Jeffrey? Wow. They can’t speak a single word to communicate with each other, yet they connect with each other so well as they play. They speak the universal language of fun. It’s just awesome.

I wish I had more eloquent words to describe what I’ve seen and how I’ve felt. However, like so many things I’ve seen down here, it’s just not possible to communicate the thoughts, feelings, images, and experiences through words, or even through photos. You’ve got to see it to understand.

It’s difficult to witness, let alone process.

I’m sure you’ve seen the commercials on television for Haitian relief, or for save the children, or for some charitable relief organization trying to make a difference throughout the world in places like this. Most of the time, when we see these things, we have no sort of emotional response… we’re more likely to simply change the channel to check out what else we can find to fry our brains, or to wonder if the scenes shown are staged. If we do have an emotional response, it’s usually of irritation… how dare these organizations try to wind us up emotionally to extract money from us!

But witnessing poverty first-hand?

There simply isn’t much that will move you more.

You can’t help but be affected by seeing families living in 4′ x 8′ shacks constructed of whatever materials they happen to be able to find. You can’t help but shed tears as you see children with distended stomachs, running around naked and playing in mud puddles. You can’t help but want to do something… anything you can think of to help. You can’t help but be overwhelmed because the need is so great… where can you start?

You can’t help but question how and why God would allow this. In the United States, even the poorest of the poor have a roof over their heads and somewhat regular meals. They’ve probably even got a television to watch, clothes to wear, maybe even an old beat up car to drive.

The contrast between “our” impoverished and the impoverished here is so dramatic. Here, the impoverished don’t eat for days. They pick through trash dumps to find whatever supplies they can for subsistence. They cobble together shacks for shelter made of old vehicle hoods, cardboard, scraps of tin. They have parasites living in their stomachs. Bugs and lice living in their hair. Scabs and scars arising from all sorts of nasty things we can’t begin to imagine.

Even the “average” person here rarely works, for there simply aren’t jobs available. We complain about a 9% unemployment rate, how “awful” our economy has gotten, how horrible our 401K has performed, how “health care reform” will ruin our nation. Here, unemployment is 75-90%. Savings and retirement are foreign concepts. Health care is virtually non-existent.

I could go on and on, yet never adequately communicate what I’m seeing. Take a look at some of these photos, though, and allow these images to move you emotionally. Consider how God would have you personally respond to what you’re seeing.

Here’s the deal… the overwhelming thought I’ve got right now. If you’re a follower of Jesus Christ, and you’ve never been on an international mission trip, you’ve got to go. The Great Commission is clear:

Matthew 28:19-20
¹⁹Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, ²⁰and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

The first part of the Great Commission is to go. The last part is that Christ will be with you. We’ve gone, and we’ve DEFINITELY experienced Christ being with us so far.

It’s amazing to see the need here. And it’s utterly amazing to see how God is working. I’ll detail those ways in posts a bit later.

[Note: These are thoughts from Friday evening, July 16th.]

That was the majority of our day, really (though certainly not the majority of our experience). We woke up bright and early at a time of day I’ve seen only once or twice (3:45 AM!) to hop on a plane to the Dominican. Well, not exactly… first we boarded a puddle jumper to Chicago, then a slightly larger plane to Miami, and finally that “big ol’ jet airliner” (a 767!) to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic.

We arrived slightly after dark, so it was awfully hard to get much of a handle on our surroundings here. Basically, we saw the inside of an airport and the inside of a bus. It was rather clear though that “we’re not in Kansas anymore”. Customs presented a few rather anxious thoughts, though reality proved to be nothing like the various worries that ran through my mind. In fact, our entire team was rushed through without any question whatsoever.

The most welcome sight of the day, though, came as we exited the airport, as we came upon the sight of what seemed like an army of blue shirted D.R. missionaries welcoming us (there are about 8 in reality, but the welcome sight of them mobbing us with hugs, grabbing our bags and loading them up… made it seem like a lot more). These folks will be part of our family for the week, serving as our guides, hosts, and leaders here in the Dominican.

As for adjustment? I think we’re all dealing with a bit of shock that the reality of this trip is setting in. But we expected to be a bit overwhelmed. It’s a good thing. We’re so comfortable with our little world in the United States… we’re so locked into the thought that our culture and our way of life is the only way people live (we know better, but it’s true)… experiencing something completely “other” does come as a bit of a shock to the system. But it’s clearly a good thing. I fully expect to shed some tears in the near future (what can I say, I’m an emotional guy). I expect Jeffrey will have some issues with adjustment. And I expect Nancy to encounter something that makes this trip tough.

After all, it’s hot and humid here. We don’t have electricity and air conditioning all of the time as we do at home. We’ll be eating food that’s a bit different from what we’re used to. We’re going to see a lot of things that will be difficult to swallow. And we’ll be missing Jenna and Allison quite a bit.

But we’ll tackle these things together, and we’ll grow in our understanding of the world, and perhaps most of all, of God’s global purpose. We’ll be meeting people here that, in Christ, are our brothers and sisters already. Our family. And hopefully adding more members to it as we share the gospel with people that don’t yet know Him.

It’s going to be a good experience, even if not an easy one.

[Note: This post was written Thursday, July 15th. Posts from the Dominican Republic Mission Trip will be delayed a bit, due to time constraints while there and availability of internet and electricity.]

Anne Jackson is one such blogger, and today she shared about her encounter with a beautiful little girl named Lakshmi.

You’ve gotta read it.

You see, Anne’s touching moment with Lakshmi today cuts straight to the heart of what Compassion International is all about. Beautiful kids that, without help from people like you and me, have little to no hope for tomorrow. Their hopes and dreams stand little chance against the ravages of poverty.

Won’t you change a child’s life today?