CJ handed me the bright white envelope and asked, "What's this?"
"Probably junk mail," I replied. Turning it over, I let my eyes fall to the return address. This package was most definitely not junk. It contained pure treasure.
Two weeks earlier, I'd read this post of Lisa-Jo's. My heart was immediately stirred. Even though I cannot give financially right now, I can still give! Anxiously, my fingers dialed the numbers and I was connected to a Compassion representative. I gave him the information, hung up the phone, and waited.
God showed up in my mailbox this weekend in the form of a beautiful 13-year old girl named Jennifer. The deep caramel color of her face brings back memories of others, equally precious, I saw in Peru. Her eyes bore into my heart and I ache with longing to pull her in close and whisper words of Jesus' love into her soul. Does she know Him?
The anger I felt in Peru, the sheer outrage that people live in such poverty and squalor, ignites again. I remember the passion I carried for those children whose smiles lit up faces smudged with the dust of the Andes. They were joyful, happy. I was horrified. Where did that passion go?
My circumstances are light, momentary. And I have let them consume my life. The force of this knowledge strikes me, humbles me. I am broken. I am swept away by the realization that although I thought I was going to help Jennifer through my prayers and words, I am the one being rescued. My Father has used a girl, not much older than my own, to wake me from my contented slumber and to remind me that the mission didn't end when I returned home.
Maybe one day I'll travel to Jennifer's country to wrap my arms around her and thank her for the gift she's given me. In the meantime, I'll be wrapping her in prayer and as much Jesus-love as I have within my wretchedly human heart.
(If you'd like to be a Compassion correspondent or sponsor a child, please visit Compassion for more information)