The faces of this year are not lost on me.
I am in Thailand right now.
I've just received an email saying, "Your request to visit the Compassion Development Center in Chiang Mai has just been approved." Shout out to Johnny B for a stellar reference.
Thailand is the only country I will travel to while on my race where Compassion currently has projects. And I have the opportunity to visit.
To see and experience the promises of hope I've spent the past two years of my life telling people about. I will walk alongside, and hear first hand, the stories that make me cry like a baby at my sponsorship table each show night.
Last night as I sat to write my sponsorship babies, it felt different.
It was different.
Their pictures revealed a truth I've been avoiding for a while now… they're no longer babies. They both turn nine this year.
When did that happen?
This truth was beautiful. With this year, my letters have the ability to go beyond the simple matters. This year, I'm able to ask for prayer FROM my Compassion boys. Blowing my mind!
I click, "send" and I am redirected.
I find myself face to face with my boys' profile pages.
Their strong faces.
That's when I see it.
Under Ariel's name.
His family duties, selling in the marketplace. Health, disabled.
Under Joffre's name.
Father's employment, peddler.
And I can't un-see it. I can't un-know the reality of what these words mean. Some time in the past five weeks, these words have become part of my daily life. marketplace, peddlers, disability
I've walked past the peddlers, giving them no attention…giving a curt no, avoiding eye contact. I've gone to the marketplace and negotiated with the children… because, honestly 200 baht is an "outrageous" amount for a pair of shorts… I'm willing to spend 120 at the most! [that's the difference of paying $6.60 and $4.00 USD, for those keeping score at home]. I've seen the mommas, holding their babies in their arms. Outside the Buddhist temples, paying the monks for prayers.
I can't shake it.
Compassion is needed.
Let me say it again.
Friends, Compassion is so needed.
I knew this. I thought I knew this.
There are children selling in marketplaces! There are barefoot children begging farangs, or foreigners, for hugs! These are the children in need of Compassion. These are the faces on your computer screen, asking for sponsorship.
There are parents burdened by their children. Men visit the villages, and offer an out. Daughters are sold. Daughters are sold into prostitution by their parents. These daughters are the faces on the street corner below me. These daughters are in need of Compassion.
So I sit, anticipating the day when I will see faces of Compassion.
And then, I am called…so quietly I almost miss it.
I am called to be a face of Compassion.
