Blessed is the one who considers the poor! In the day of trouble the Lord delivers him. The Lord protects him and keeps him alive. He is called blessed in the land. (vs. 1-2)
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1
We got there on a "bonky truck." Often the potholes were as deep as the middle of the truck doors. The rainy season had just passed so the rice marshes were filled with water. Little naked children splashed in the lily-covered reservoirs of water along with the local scrawny cow and some stray dogs. The trip would have taken us fifteen minutes at home. But we arrived there an hour and a half after we left the pink Cambodian brothel where we had to spend the night. Battambang, Cambodia, is one of the larger cities in that country, and when we visited there the brothel was the only "nice" hotel....meaning it had beds and questionable air conditioning. Sitting around the lobby when we entered the evening before were prostitutes chatting with each other in Khmer. I introduced myself, in English, of course, and handed them the Christian tract I had in my pocket. It felt like a raindrop poured into an ocean. A poor response to such overwhelming need.
Our destination was far outside of Battambang, though. It was an orphanage in the jungles where destitute children had been rescued from the streets of Cambodia. The sex trafficking business in Cambodia feeds Thailand with vulnerable street children who have no place to run. Foursquare Children of Promise has been building orphanages there for many years with the model James created a couple thousand years ago - take care of widows and orphans. AIDS, malaria and land mines left over from the 1970's have taken many of that country's men and women. When we traveled there, about half the population was under thirty years of age. Our church had bought land and FCOP made a rice mill pm it that is run by its people down the road from the new orphanage. Widows live with the children - one widow for every five orphans. They become the mothers. A man and wife, who are Christians and trained pastors, are the overseers of the homes which serve also as a local church. The families learn to grow their own food as each center is set up like a little farm.
On the porch when we pulled up, were several children waiting for our arrival. Because they had only were new to the house themselves, none of us knew what to expect of each other. Still in the clothes they were wearing when taken off the streets and smelling of their experiences there, the children watched us warily as we approached them from the truck. My heart was particularly struck by two young girls, probably ten years old at the time, standing in their inherent beauty watching me walk up to them. I couldn't help but think of my own daughters as I opened my arms to these girls. They fell into mine. We held each other for a bit. Like they had known me forever. One had learned on the streets to say "I love you" in English. I loved her, too. I braided their filthy black hair, polished their cracked and broken nails, and felt their joy as they showed me their new home. Also on the porch was a child of about two who was being intravenously fed. She was near death when found. Holding her was a bald woman with a huge smile that revealed badly infected, bleeding gums. Alone on the streets, this widow had no one until she came to this orphanage outside of Battambang.
The next day we arrived with school uniforms, towels, blankets, toiletries, clothing donated from a clothing store in the states, and, of course, toys. Since we had been with them the day before, they had all been bathed, their hair washed and were dressed in newer clothes. We spent the day with these children as we had done with other orphanages in the days previous. That evening we stayed for their devotionals. The children have been told that their heavenly Father rescued them from the streets. Even though they had been in their current shelter for fewer than three days, they closed their eyes and sang a song they had learned in praise of Him. He showed up, palpably, to receive their love.
We went back the next year. With bikes for the kids and motorcycles for the pastors so they could be better equipped to help their community. But what struck me was how these children had grown, not simply physically, but in their understanding of God's love for them. When they worshipped, they knew to Whom they were lifting their hands. When they prayed, He answered. With healings, deliverance and miracles we don't even ask for! The widow's gums no longer bled, and the daughters of my heart were lovely, gracious young women who took care of the smaller orphans.
So, each time I come back to my own home and my wealth, I cannot put my money in my bank account without sending some of it there to my family in Cambodia. I don't say this to build myself up. I proclaim it humbly. Because my Father has shown me that He has given to me as one hand in the chain of things. Money is placed in our hands so that we can put it in the hands of the poor - to widows and orphans. Because that is His heart.....and, now, it my heart, too.
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1
We got there on a "bonky truck." Often the potholes were as deep as the middle of the truck doors. The rainy season had just passed so the rice marshes were filled with water. Little naked children splashed in the lily-covered reservoirs of water along with the local scrawny cow and some stray dogs. The trip would have taken us fifteen minutes at home. But we arrived there an hour and a half after we left the pink Cambodian brothel where we had to spend the night. Battambang, Cambodia, is one of the larger cities in that country, and when we visited there the brothel was the only "nice" hotel....meaning it had beds and questionable air conditioning. Sitting around the lobby when we entered the evening before were prostitutes chatting with each other in Khmer. I introduced myself, in English, of course, and handed them the Christian tract I had in my pocket. It felt like a raindrop poured into an ocean. A poor response to such overwhelming need.
Our destination was far outside of Battambang, though. It was an orphanage in the jungles where destitute children had been rescued from the streets of Cambodia. The sex trafficking business in Cambodia feeds Thailand with vulnerable street children who have no place to run. Foursquare Children of Promise has been building orphanages there for many years with the model James created a couple thousand years ago - take care of widows and orphans. AIDS, malaria and land mines left over from the 1970's have taken many of that country's men and women. When we traveled there, about half the population was under thirty years of age. Our church had bought land and FCOP made a rice mill pm it that is run by its people down the road from the new orphanage. Widows live with the children - one widow for every five orphans. They become the mothers. A man and wife, who are Christians and trained pastors, are the overseers of the homes which serve also as a local church. The families learn to grow their own food as each center is set up like a little farm.
On the porch when we pulled up, were several children waiting for our arrival. Because they had only were new to the house themselves, none of us knew what to expect of each other. Still in the clothes they were wearing when taken off the streets and smelling of their experiences there, the children watched us warily as we approached them from the truck. My heart was particularly struck by two young girls, probably ten years old at the time, standing in their inherent beauty watching me walk up to them. I couldn't help but think of my own daughters as I opened my arms to these girls. They fell into mine. We held each other for a bit. Like they had known me forever. One had learned on the streets to say "I love you" in English. I loved her, too. I braided their filthy black hair, polished their cracked and broken nails, and felt their joy as they showed me their new home. Also on the porch was a child of about two who was being intravenously fed. She was near death when found. Holding her was a bald woman with a huge smile that revealed badly infected, bleeding gums. Alone on the streets, this widow had no one until she came to this orphanage outside of Battambang.
The next day we arrived with school uniforms, towels, blankets, toiletries, clothing donated from a clothing store in the states, and, of course, toys. Since we had been with them the day before, they had all been bathed, their hair washed and were dressed in newer clothes. We spent the day with these children as we had done with other orphanages in the days previous. That evening we stayed for their devotionals. The children have been told that their heavenly Father rescued them from the streets. Even though they had been in their current shelter for fewer than three days, they closed their eyes and sang a song they had learned in praise of Him. He showed up, palpably, to receive their love.
We went back the next year. With bikes for the kids and motorcycles for the pastors so they could be better equipped to help their community. But what struck me was how these children had grown, not simply physically, but in their understanding of God's love for them. When they worshipped, they knew to Whom they were lifting their hands. When they prayed, He answered. With healings, deliverance and miracles we don't even ask for! The widow's gums no longer bled, and the daughters of my heart were lovely, gracious young women who took care of the smaller orphans.
So, each time I come back to my own home and my wealth, I cannot put my money in my bank account without sending some of it there to my family in Cambodia. I don't say this to build myself up. I proclaim it humbly. Because my Father has shown me that He has given to me as one hand in the chain of things. Money is placed in our hands so that we can put it in the hands of the poor - to widows and orphans. Because that is His heart.....and, now, it my heart, too.
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