Passion for Compassion

I am wrestling with words this morning.

There are so many in my head. They are running around and meeting up in groups of two or three. But before I can grab them and force them into coherent sentences, they break apart and scatter in different directions.

It’s all because of last week, which has potential to be one of the most significant of 2009 for me.

It was missions week at my alma mater, a Christian college about 20 minutes from where I now live. Wess Stafford, the President and CEO of Compassion International, spoke in chapel Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. A few months ago, I read his book, “Too Small to Ignore,” which is half biography, half mission statement, and it rocked me to the core. So I spent quite a bit of my free time on campus last week -- attending chapel, trying to keep Teyla occupied with raisins and Cheerios during worship, working the Compassion table on Tuesday, generally feeling the Holy Spirit stir in my soul in a way I can’t fully explain.

Then, on Friday, Shaun Groves came to Minnesota for the grand finale of missions week. Last fall, I contacted Ben, Shaun’s manager, to see if we couldn’t get the two of them to the Upper Midwest in February, when Minnesota is at its best. I like Shaun’s music, but I’m most impressed by his passion for Compassion. I’m intrigued that he changed his whole life for this cause. That’s some crazy love. It resonates with me.

And Shaun did not disappoint. At the end of chapel on Friday, he gave the students a chance to do something about the world’s children imprisoned by poverty.

Before I go on, you have to understand something: I had worked the Compassion table on Tuesday, and I was thrilled when eight children were sponsored during my shift. Plus, I knew a lot of Northwestern students were already Compassion sponsors.

But that morning, as Shaun sang the beautiful song “Kingdom Coming,” and a bunch of us wandered the aisles among the 1400 students sitting in chapel, I watched hand after hand go up in the air to request a child sponsorship packet. A young man with tears in his eyes. A row of young woman, coats hunched over their shoulders. A young couple, sitting with feet entwined.

I fought the sobs that pushed against my lungs. (Or maybe that was just Teyla.) Because that’s the Church. That’s Jesus with flesh on. There is nothing like watching the Holy Spirit work right before your eyes.

When chapel ended a few minutes later, I rushed out to Shaun’s table. It was inundated with students wanting to sponsor kids. I spent the next 45 minutes taking forms, answering questions and praising God. When the whirlwind subsided, 143 Compassion kids had been sponsored.

Wow.

I was still flying high at Shaun’s concert that evening, when he played one of the most brilliant practical jokes I’ve ever witnessed (and that’s saying something, considering I used to hang out with young ministry majors). And that night, another 20 children were sponsored. Another 20.

I still haven’t gotten over it.

I don’t know exactly what God has for Corey and me in the next phase of our lives. But we both feel like He’s doing something. We are both so burdened for the poor. We are heartsick at the affluence and apathy of America. We are ready to do something drastic. We are tired of the status quo. In fact, we feel quite ruined for normal life. We are ready for an adventure with God.

If it’s anything like this last week, I say bring it.

For another viewpoint on Compassion, check out this excellent post on the blog of my friend Lisa the Preacher's Wife. It tells the story of why she initially objected to sponsoring a child -- and how she got over it.