Something in Their Eyes

Debbie Willis went missing on a Sunday.

It was September 15th, 1991, during the Kansas State Fair.

She didn't leave a note or pack a bag or take anything with her.

Her husband Eddie took their four children out searching for her.

And the Hutch News posted a picture of them on the front page, the children perched on a fence at Carey Park while their dad stood by.

From left: Eddie Willis (the kids' birth father), Justin (3), Ashley (6), Jeri (10) and Polly (12)
The Hutchinson News file photo, September, 1991

Our community was gripped by the children. There was something in their eyes that caught everyone's attention.

It wasn't just the hollow look of loss because their mother had disappeared. It was more than what they couldn't see.

It was the sorrow of the hundreds of things they had seen in their short lives. Drinking and fighting and striving and lacking and hurting.

And for one of them, culminating in watching their father drive away in his pickup with their mom dragged into the passenger seat . . . and watching out the window until he returned--alone.

Then being paraded out to look for her as if it were a hide and seek game he had cheated at.

Their eyes called to my husband Tracy and me.

Especially when we learned Eddie had been arrested for Debbie's murder.

We already knew God was calling us to adopt. He'd drawn up a little comparison chart for us a year and a half earlier. (1) On one side, He listed the sheep, and on the other side, goats. Under the headings, He listed their actions, which would be His deciding factor when He was separating His supposed followers into the proper categories. And it would also determine the outcome of His reward/punishment system for them.

You would think He would carefully examine their physical characteristics. When I was a child and learned the story of Billy Goat Gruff, or we sang the song "Bill Grogan's Goat," I always envisioned a beard on the chins of the cantankerous goats and horns protruding from their heads. But the sheep in my imagination were docile creatures covered with soft wool.

So maybe that's why I was surprised to learn that Jesus skipped the obvious differences in appearance. Instead, He examined their actions.

Surprised is probably too mild; I was shocked. I'd done a lot of what I considered to be Christian service: teaching in a Christian school, leading worship, sponsoring youth group, writing curriculum and teaching it in children's church, teaching adult Sunday school, hosting Bible studies. . . I was no stranger to work in the Kingdom of God.

But none of these matched the job description of sheep.

See, sheep were known for doing these things: they fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, took in strangers, clothed the naked, visited the sick, and visited people in prison.

None of my "Christian" acts of service made the cut on this list. Everything I was doing was inward, to the church--nothing was outward to a hurting world.

I was shaken to the core.

And when I shared this Scripture with my husband Tracy, he was also deeply moved. We knew God was calling us to something new. Something more.

Something closer to His heart.

He wanted us to truly look into the eyes of hurting people. Not to look away, hoping or assuming someone else would help. He wanted us to treat them like we would treat Him if He were in the same situation.

He wanted us to take in strangers. And we had the unmistakable sense that they would be little ones.

So our adoption journey began. And it led us to our destiny with the children behind the eyes.

God orchestrated events so that we were able to welcome these children into our home on October 26, 1991. They joined our birth children: Sara, 12 at the time; Nathan, 9; and Benjamin, 6. And on Feb. 19, 1995, our long-awaited adoption was final. Then in March, 1996, our Anna was born.

Taken from the Feb. 14, 1997, article from the Hutch News.
Back row: Sara, Jeri, Benjamin, and Nathan
Seated in front: Justin, Polly, Becky, Anna, Tracy, and Ashley

The Lord didn't choose us because we had special qualifications. Nor because He thought we'd do a perfect job parenting these hurting children. He knew we would fall short in many ways.

Yet He chose us--because we were willing. Willing to be sheep who follow the Good Shepherd, knowing we would have to rely on Him every step of the way.

Those early days passed more quickly than we could have imagined. When the last few of our children starting graduating from high school, we began to ask the Lord what our next "assignment" would be.

Our answer came unexpectedly because of a trip to Seattle for a graduation in 2003. We weren't doing anything particularly spiritual; in fact, we went "junkin." At our first rummage sale, we met Stan and Sue Drew, who were selling their "stuff" before returning to Swaziland, Africa, as missionaries.

At first, we thought the connection was cool because the girl graduating (Jubilee Yocum) was heading to South Africa with YWAM (Youth with a Mission), and our son Benjamin was heading to South Africa on a mission trip with Global Expeditions/Teen Mania. We figured Stan and Sue could give them advice about what to expect.

But it went way beyond that. We felt God's nudging to support them financially. And within two years, we also felt a tugging to actually go to Swaziland.

Trust me, I didn't think I was Africa material. Smile. But this sense of calling wouldn't go away. I finally told  my son Benjamin that we were praying about going. His response was that we often pray about things God has already said to do. He already said to go into all the world and preach the Gospel.

(Wow. Gotta love it when your teenagers point out the Truth.)

When I got home, I had an email message waiting for me from Stan and Sue, asking when we were coming.
We had never mentioned the possibility to them. And we didn't feel the need to wait for any further confirmation. We booked our flights for Tracy, Anna (then 10) and I to go to Swaziland in the summer of 2006.

And when we met the children, there was something in their eyes, too. Some had buried parents who had died with AIDS. Some had been chased away from relatives' homesteads, unwanted nuisances as one more mouth to feed. Others had scavenged for food in the forests or stolen from street vendors. Many had been raped because their attackers believed that sex with a virgin would cure their AIDS. Countless had been given the task of caring for younger siblings and cousins who had no adult to provide basic needs.

These were children. Hungry and thirsty, homeless, hurting children. Sometimes naked. Sometimes sick. And trapped in a prison they never earned for themselves.

Not all were orphaned--yet. But all were vulnerable--little lost lambs that the Good Shepherd wanted us to love in His Name.

So we embarked on another journey, and this one would prove to us over and over again that the Good Shepherd's staff is grand enough to meet the cries of every hurting child. But He does it through His people.

Through those who realize they are sheep, too.

Through those who are willing.

And Grand Staff Ministries, Inc. was born.

What do you see when you look into their eyes?

Is Jesus calling you to join us as we love these little ones in His Name?

Not everyone is called to go to Africa. Nor to any other foreign country. At least not physically.

And not everyone is called to adopt children on USA soil, either.

But every single one of us who is a sheep following the Good Shepherd is called to do something. Something in Jesus' list of what sheep do.

Is Jesus asking you to send finances so someone who is thirsty get a drink of clean water, someone who is hungry gets a meal of corn mush, someone who is living in the elements of the African bush has a shelter? A safe place, away from those who would do them harm.

Or maybe He's asking you to volunteer in the office. Perhaps donate your skills with the computer.

It could be He wants you available to really pray in those night hours when one of the little ones is desperate to be rescued from the prison of predators.

All I know is, you are needed. And you are welcome to come alongside us as we serve Jesus by serving those He loves.

Then someday, when we look into His eyes, there will be something about them.

I'm pretty sure it will be pride. His words will match the look He's giving His sheep: 

"Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord." (2)

Learn more at www.grandstaffministries.com or at our silent & live auction and free banquet on Sat., April 27, 2013.  It is open to the public while seats are still available.  Call (620) 543-6518.






(1) Taken from Matthew 25:31-46
(2) Matthew 25:21, NKJV
Goat picture from true-wildlife.blogspot.com
Sheep picture from torahinmotion.org

Thanks for the Old, Hope for the New!

Children in Swaziland, Africa, are as vulnerable as ever.  Burying parents who have died with AIDS, being diven from homesteads of relatives who don’t want them, foraging for food in the forests, stealing food from street vendors, and worst of all, finding themselves victims of deceived individuals who believe that AIDS can be cured by relations with a virgin.  Even those who still live with a parent(s) are exposed.  So many adults are sick or unemployed, and those fornuate enough to work usually make only a dollar a day.  The children suffer.

The Good Shepherd hears their cries.  His staff is “grand” enough to help them all—through His people.  He has sent pastors to help, but these men can’t afford to educate and feed them as the numbers grow.  Praise the Lord, His people have heard the desperation He hears, and they have taken action.  Together, in 2012 we have been able to:

• Educate 83 children who also get to eat at school

Textbooks and a test from one of the students.
SuSwati is their language. 

• Feed over 200 children at Hope House

One child eating at Hope House

• Lead a team of five for a month of ministry in Swaziland and Mozambique
• Visit homesteads of widows, grandmothers, and children living alone, taking food, encouragement, and prayer

 Typical homestead to the left.  Family of grandmother raising various family members on the right.  Jana praying with a Swazi woman.

• Share the Good News in Word and song in many services and in three (1) hour radio broadcasts into Swaziland, Mozambique, and South Africa

They say one of the best things about radio is that you can't see the person.
 Haha, especially true towards the end of the trip when I was needing a haircut badly!  

We’re dreaming big for 2013.

 Princess Pumilele, the king’s sister, is a believer.  She donated to Hope House a large tract of land in beautiful country near the Swazi/South African border.  A care center is planned, away from the distractions of the city, where children can live and be schooled while they learn to grow crops and raise animals.  We’d like to partner with them by giving $50,000 to help build the structures, purchase livestock, and provide house mothers/parents.  There is plenty of space to build.

 When the children graduate from high school, they need help to go to college or learn a trade.  We want to raise $60,000 to kick-start a program for those who will soon finish their secondary studies. One child can attend the university for about $2,000 per year.

Colani is one of our two first graduates from high school.  He believes God has called him to work as a television anchor, and he has the skills.  He's the best interpreter I've worked with--and has personality to spare!
He's a faithful young man who will use his gifts and education to further the Kingdom of God.
Do you feel led to help with his college tuition?

 Paramount Pools in New Jersey has funded the feeding program at Hope House for the past three years.  The Squatter’s Camp and the church in Bhunya are also desperate to feed the children they oversee.  $10,000 will provide the pots, food, and simple structures to make that possible.

 Typical pots used for feeding large crowds of children.

This young man has been in the feeding program long enough to have some meat on his bones.
The sucker we handed out no doubt added to the smile!

 Grateful children giving thanks for the meal they are about to receive.

 Hundreds of children in the three churches we work with are still waiting for sponsors.  And twenty more churches wait to be added to our program.  The only way to find more sponsors is to go where the Christians are.  So we need to share in churches and at Christian conventions.  The large conventions will rent a booth or allow a ministry to be the main sponsor, but that can run from $3,000 to $6,000 and more.  If you have a divine connection that might open a door, or if you can help us fund a convention, you would help us serve more children.

Even with such great need, we are encouraged because others have partnered with us.  If you are one of those “peculiar people” Jesus has purified to Himself, zealous for good works, we want to hear from you!  (Titus 2:14)

(620) 543-6518 or becky@grandstaffministries.com

For a bigger look at what we’re doing, consider attending our annual event on Saturday, April 27th, in Hutchinson, Kansas: Grand Staff Ministries, Inc. Silent Auction/Banquet/Live Auction: Hope for Africa.

Thank you!

Confession: I got sick on Halloween Candy

Our family used to hide out on Halloween.  We'd turn off the lights so none of the neighborhood kids would suspect anyone was home.  After all, we didn't want to contribute to the "devil's holiday" by acknowledging it in any way.  So we cowered in darkness, waiting for the sounds of children calling to one another to end, signaling the all clear for us to come out of hiding and get ready for bed.

Sometimes our church would host a Hall Festival, Hallelujah party, or some other variation that allowed our kids to dress up.  We didn't want them to feel left out.  And if they dressed up like Bible characters, that seemed to sanctify the celebration a little more.

We Spencers sort of gravitated towards trying to be the place where the neighborhood kids wanted to come.  Instead of being perceived as the cranky Christians, we wanted to give out the best candy on the block, showing them that Jesus. Is. Fun.  And we liked to hand out tracts about not being afraid or Jesus being sweeter than candy. 

This year our church hosted our second Trunk or Treat as an outreach to the neighborhood, especially the elementary school nearby.  We fed them and their parents chili and hot dogs, passed out enough candy to send someone into a coma, and shared the love of Jesus.

I'm smiling as I write this, because I know many of you can identify with the flopping around, trying to find our place as we are in the world, but not of it.  We're still finding our way, aren't we?

But what I want to share is far more personal than all of that.

Fact: I got sick on Halloween candy this year.

I went to the store with good intentions.  My plan was to purchase candy I wasn't really all that fond of so I wouldn't be tempted to devour it.  Frankly, I like almost all candy, but I really hate green apple anything.  So I figured I could find something in that flavor and be safe from my own propensity to pig out.

After all, my weight loss goals are going really well, and I have only six more pounds to lose.  

So I wanted to continue on the path of self-discipline.  And I know myself.  A big chunk of getting--and keeping--victory is realizing weaknesses and avoiding temptation in the first place.

But when I saw the neatly arranged bags of Snickers, Butterfingers, and Almond Joys, all in fun sizes, I caved.  That little voice on my shoulder lied, assuring me I would only eat a couple.  That most of the candy would go to the super heroes, princesses, and hobos ringing our doorbell Halloween night.

And I had Gospel tracts, for crying out loud.  Surely I could curb the fleshly nature.

Who was I kidding?  How many 6 year olds do you know who actually like coconut and almonds?

I got a little bit panicked the afternoon of you-know-who's special day.  I sent Tracy to the store to get a bag of something the kids might like better.  So he brought home some kind of taffy and other citrus-y sweets.  I didn't admit even to myself that I was more concerned with not having enough of my favorites to indulge myself than whether or not the children would like my favorite candies.  

Gulp.

Well, we did give away lots of candy.  And tracts.  One dad even came back to thank us for our attempt to reach the kids with Good News.

But once I opened the first Butterfinger, I was doomed.  

For me, sugar can be like booze is to an alcoholic.  I wasn't even interested in asking God for help.

Just pass me the candy bowl, and nobody will get hurt.

A family member who will remain unnamed joined me when the doorbell slowed down and we could horde the leftovers to ourselves.  We ate every last piece.

That night.

Even the citrus taffy.

Hoo boy.

Now don't get me wrong; I didn't wallow around in defeat for the next few days.  I learned a long time ago that it's best to "agree with my adversary quickly along the way."  So when the mental accusations began, I admitted my failure, asked for forgiveness, trusted in the power of the blood of Jesus and His grace to forgive me and cleanse me of all sin.

Fresh slate. 

And a renewed commitment not to repeat my performance next year.   

So that isn't what sickened me in the next few days.  Nor was it a tummy ache from all the sweets I consumed.

It was what I heard on the news.  Did you get the newsflash?

Americans spent 8 billion dollars on Halloween.

You read that right.  With a "b," not an "m."  

Oh, Lord God!

$8,000,000,000 on candy and costumes for just one day's fun.  

And I contributed to that, wholeheartedly.  

So I wrestled with the facts for a few days, asking the Lord to do more than just forgive me.  I cried out for Him to change me!  

How can I look at my African brothers and sisters without guile when I know they are hungry?  Uneducated?  Desperate?  Waiting?  And I'm stuffing my face with junk that hurts my health and makes me fat.

Sickening.

Please understand, I know God loves to bless us.  But I've been struggling with the questions for over six years now: How much is enough?  And how much is too much?

It's a personal question.

How you answer it is none of my business.  (Or NOMB, as my friend Dianne says.)

But there is another question I want to ask you directly:

Can we raise $8,000 in the next month for the kids in Swaziland and Mozambique?

Not as a sin tax.

Not as a guilt offering.

Just as a joyful statement of love and faith to our God, Who loves orphans!

A fraction (one-one hundred thousandth) of what we Americans spent on one day of entertainment can change the life of countless African children.

We can feed 450 children for a long, long time with that kind of funding.  Or send 26 elementary children to school for a year.  Or finish  a plumbing job to provide toilets to 16 boys at Hope House or . . . you get the picture.

That makes me want to do something.  Right now.  

I hope it inspires you, too.

I'm not saying we should all quit having fun and reaching out to our neighbors.  But I do think perhaps in this economy God is asking us to weigh our choices.

If you want to contribute, you can go to http://www.grandstaffministries.com/donate.php or mail your check to Grand Staff Ministries, Inc., 406 West Avenue A, Buhler, KS  67522.  Of course, all gifts are tax deductible.

Maybe you have a friend, relative, or Sunday school class you can share this goal with.  

Thank you in advance.  

I plan to put in the first donation.  

And next year, I'm searching for green apple taffy.

Christmas Parade

I'll take a short detour from our trip so I can share pictures from our float in the parade.  We had great help this week!

 Our friends Janis and Dennis Pauls did preliminary work, cutting out letters for the signs and laminating pictures of the African children.  They ran from Inman to Buhler to Salina, all to make sure we had what we needed to put the float together.

Hutch friends Butch and Maryln let us use their garage so we wouldn't leave a trail of tissue paper between Buhler and Hutch.  :)  My daughter Anna was the tissue queen . . . not sure why hers stayed better and went on faster than mine.  Suffice it to say she did 1 1/2 sides to my half.

Joan Hutter came over Thursday morning to pitch in, so I had her staple tinsel to the kids' pictures and cut apart flyers to hand out.

Dianne Martin worked for hours and hours with Anna and me.  She's a ton of fun!  :)

Everything is more fun with a friend.  :)

And Anna patiently stayed at it until we were done.  

It was a little bit chilly this morning as we put on finishing touches.  Looks like Anna scored something hot to drink.

Hubby Tracy hard at it, as always.  I love having a dependable husband to share this journey!

Thankfully, the posters on the back end cleared the dip in the driveway, and we headed downtown.  Late Friday night, I made posters about our upcoming concert/dinner and stuck magnetic tape on the back so we could put them on the sides of Nathan's truck.  It worked!

Last minute adjustments . . .

. . . and the Guffey family (minus Avery) joined us to throw candy and hand out flyers about the concert and what Grand Staff Ministries is all about.

Joel and Landry

Joel

Kevin and Cindy

 Yes, everything is more fun with a friend!  Kaylee and Anna

And we were off!  

We saw lots of people we knew, and we trust that many people who had never heard of Grand Staff Ministries now has some idea of who we are and what we do.  Seeds were planted, and we trust the one Who makes them grow.

Our signs read, "On the first day of Christmas, true love came down." and "Make every day Christmas--sponsor a needy child."

Amen.

Thanks to everyone who helped!

Squattin' Rights

Too many people in Swaziland are homeless.

When we think of a homeless person here in the States, we conjure up images of vets suffering from PSTD . . . mentally ill people unable to hold down a job . . . addicts chained to the next high.

But in Swaziland, the homeless have a much different story.  Drought has forced people away from their family homestead farms into the city, where they scrounge for food in dumpsters.   AIDS has left thousands of children as orphans, being shuffled from home to home and often driven away because their relatives can't afford to feed them or send them to school.  Families are torn apart by the blame game for deaths caused by AIDS.  

The need is too great for Swaziland's limited programs and resources, but King Mswati has provided a partial solution for a few people: he has allowed squatters to build structures on land he designated for that purpose. 

Before we visited the Squatter's Camp just outside the city of Manzini, we wanted to prepare bags for the children.  We had packed toys, school supplies, candy, and personal hygiene items to take to Africa with us, thanks to the generosity of many of our family, friends, and local dentists.  Believe it or not, we actually brought some kind of order from this chaos!  And anticipating the smiles of the children gave us the energy to keep stuffing those baggies well into the night hours.  

Morning arrived quickly, and Tracy helped us load the bags and some food items to share.  Sara was pensive; she knew she would probably be able to meet Angel, the little girl she and Danny have sponsored for four years.  

When we first drove into the camp, we noticed a little girl walking nearby.  She looked a lot like Angel, and Sara made a comment to that effect.  I assured her it couldn't be Angel since I was certain she was in school.    

This is a typical view of homesteads close to each other in the squatter's camp.  The garbage piles are everywhere, even where children walk and play.

We drove further along the dirt roads until we came to Pastor Jacinto Sambo's gate.  This is The Faithful Church he pastors.  They run a preschool in the church building, too.  

His family's living quarters are directly behind the church.  They also use the structure pictured to the left.  We learned a couple of years ago that some twins on our sponsorship list were homeless again because their grandmother died.  Pastor Sambo and his wife Angelina took them in, so they built the additional structure to house them. One of their older daughters stays in that little house with the twins to look after them.  We helped them purchase bunk beds and a large cooking pot when they added these children to their growing family.  

Here are the twins, 11 years old and both now attending 4th grade because some of you sponsored them.

As soon as we arrived, children swarmed onto the property to greet us.  They knew we'd bring sweets, as always.  All the team was quickly enamored by these precious little ones.

  
 

 And guess what--the little girl we saw walking along was Angel, after all!  We learned that the teacher's were on strike, so school was out.  It was love at first sight--for both of them.

We learned that Angel's mother was back in her life. We aren't certain what her health status is. The father is deceased. Angel has two brothers, including this little one she's snuggling in the picture above, right.  It's good to see the family reunited.  

The kids couldn't leave Sara's blonde hair alone.  She's a stylist, so I guess she didn't mind.  Angel's really concentrating on getting the braids just right.  

I don't think Angel quit smiling the whole time we were there.  At one point she asked Sara, "How did you find me?"  Sara explained that we're her parents, and she found Angel's picture in some we had taken in 2008.  She and Danny knew when they saw her that she was the child for them to sponsor.  

Angel then asked, "How did you love me?"  Oh, sweet girl, if you only knew how easy that came!  Sara loved her from the moment she saw her photo.  Meeting her only increased the godly affection.  

You can be sure we spent some time at the mall so Sara could purchase items Angel's family needed, including a book bag, shoes, clothes, pillows, and especially food.

One of the things we did during our visit here was to drive Pastor Sambo about 30 minutes away from the camp to a location where he and his congregation are building a new church.  They won't stop having services at the homestead, but they'll add more at the new facility.  

Sharing the Good News with as many people as possible is at the heart of Pastor Sambo's work.  He's taken a team to visit every home in the camp, giving each one a candle and matches and inviting them to church.  That's about 800 homes.  They saw 9 people receive Jesus as Savior from that outreach project.

Workers must make their own bricks for the new building.

Much of the day was spent interviewing children.  We updated the pictures and information on children who are already sponsored, and we gathered new data on children who are waiting, such as Jeremiah on the top and Temakholo underneath.  Jeremiah is Pastor Sambo's son.

                

While we had time, we also ran Pastor Sambo and Angelica into Manzini so they could take care of some business, which worked well for us.  We needed to pick up a few items for the children--things we hadn't been able to bring from the States.  

We also visited the home of a single mother whose son was hit by a car.  Simpiwe was paralyzed.  His medication is quite expensive, so we left funds for his next refill, and we left food for the family.  

They surrounded him with great love--one that promises the commitment to care for his needs.

We sang and prayed while we were there, and it was a huge joy to learn that he was improving greatly after our visit.  Praise be to God!  

This little girl pictured on the left is on our sponsor list, but she was not allowed to meet with us.  Her parents are both deceased, and the relative she stays with is quite jealous of the care she receives through her sponsorship.  But thankfully, one of the women from the church was able to finally get the family to agree to letting us go directly to her homestead so we could get her photo and give her the gifts we had for her.  She was overcome with joy that she got to see us.


Children like her get a message every day that they are unwanted and unloved--that they are a burden to those who care for them.  Your sponsorship helps us communicate a very different message.  We showed up to let her know that she is loved so greatly by God, He moved on the heart of a sponsor thousands of miles across the ocean.  That person is praying and giving faithfully, all because God Himself values her so much.  Only He knows how much courage that will give her to keep smiling even in her desperate circumstances.

We were growing quite weary, but we wanted to distribute some dresses a group of women had sent with Sara.  Some of the dresses are made from pillow cases and others from fabric.  We had just about decided to do that on another day because we were so tired--and hungry.  Angelica and a couple of other women had graciously prepared lunch for us, but many hours had passed.

As we discussed leaving, Pastor Sambo approached us to see if we would be willing to stay for the evening church service to sing and share the Word.  We felt this was God's leading, so we agreed.  Thankfully, we received some coffee and rusks, which is a hard, dry biscuit that is typically dipped into the coffee or tea.  This sustained us enough to minister for a few more hours.  

We couldn't help but think about our African brothers and sisters who do so much more physically than we do--walking everywhere they go, washing their clothes by hand, carrying water, and more--on much less food than we eat.  It's so humbling to remember that we weren't born in the United States by any virtue of our own, but only by the plan of God.  It was a reminder to live up to that blessing and calling.

Sara was finally able to put dresses on all these little gals.  What joy on their faces!

And the church service was a huge blessing to our hearts--and we trust to theirs.

Days later we learned that the girl pictured below, Ncobile, had been hospitalized.  She was having terrible pain in her back.  We returned to Manzini another day to take Pastor Sambo with us to visit her at the government hospital.

These pictures tell the story of filth, overcrowding, and substandard care.  Many women let us pray with them.  I have to admit that the smells, vomit, and filth made me hesitant, yet in the Name of Jesus, I overcame my queasiness and let His love compel me to go beyond myself.

But the condition of the hospital was only one more evidence of how desperate life in Swaziland has become.

I had to ask: how horrid must life be for someone to actually want to head to the camp for squatter's rights? What must they be thinking when they reason, "If I can just get to the outskirts of town to that camp, then . . . what?"  Life will be better how?  I'm cringing inside.

Many people criticize the king for living in luxury while his people starve.  I don't feel qualified to pass judgment.  I'm thankful he donated this land.  But I can promise you, he would never live there himself.  Only men like Pastor Sambo, who lay down their lives in service to the true, eternal King, will move their families into places of such stench and poverty.

Pastor Sambo and his wife Angelica have eight children plus the twins.
 One grown daughter is living in Mozambique, so she's not pictured here with them.  

I have to believe that one reason they are able to make this sacrifice is the truth that one day they will have a home whose Maker and Builder is God.  (Hebrews 11:10)  The Scripture is true: whoever leaves houses and lands for His sake and the Gospel will receive much, much more now in this life, as well as in the life to come.  Even eternal life.  (Matthew 19:29)

Truly, we serve a King who has also set aside a place for His people to live.  John 14:2 says, "In my Father's house are many mansions."  Some translations say "many rooms."  But they all indicate that Jesus is preparing them for us.  

He didn't find some land far away from His palace to put us.  No, He is making a place right there in His own house.  He wants to live with us!

We don't have to fight for squattin' rights.  It's not a competition with anyone else.  If we have come to the heavenly Father by faith in His Son Jesus, there's a place waiting for us.

And until then, it's sobering to think of the differences between the huts of our African brothers and the homes we live in.  

Here are some questions we can ask ourselves:

Do I have a house, or does my house have me?

How am I sharing the blessing of my home with others?

Is my home a place of refuge, love, unity, and peace for my family?

When people walk into my home, what is the most noticeable attribute?  Is it the decor or the spiritual atmosphere?

Would I be willing to leave my home if the Lord asked me to?

Oh, Lord, change us!  I want my home to be a place where others can sense Your wondrous love.

I want to share it with anyone You want to send, not just people like me.

And I want my heart to be a place where You always feel at home.  Thank You for staking Your claim there.

Amen.