Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Gift of Water


When my oldest child was just a baby, those starving children in Africa suddenly became more than a blur of faces. They became someone's beloved child, and I thought, "Why does my child have clean water to drink and some don't? Don't all children deserve clean water?" But I never really knew what I could do (Now especially with our current life situation.) But there is something I can do and so can you. It's called Blood: Water Mission. Here's a quote from their site:

By giving up what you’d normally drink in exchange for the water from your tap you can save that money to help build clean water projects for African communities in need.So ditch the morning coffee and o.j., leave out the lunchtime soda, and cancel the evening beverage. You won’t need an ark for this 40 Days of Water, but you will need a little self-discipline. But we know you can do it, because you know who you’re doing it for. Make the choice.


I figure my daily cappuccino (bought from Wal-mart) costs approximately $.50. Every day I skip it, I'll put $.50 in my special cappuccino cup. Can't we all give the gift of clean water? Especially those of us who claim to serve The Living Water?


Click on the site link for donation information.

(Having children makes you see things differently. Here's a poem I wrote when Kyle was small.)



Faces

I see faces of the starving children
Victims of their country’s war.
Faces of the down and out
Whose families have a home no more.
Faces of the frightened children
Violence lurks outside their home.
Faces of the orphan children
who have to meet this world alone.
Faces of the suffering children
Bodies wracked by sickness, pain.
All the children of the world
Who’ve never heard of Jesus’ name.

Though once these barely caught my eye;
Now they make my spirit groan.
My heart’s been soften by the faces
Of the children that are my own.
And though my own are safe and sound,
There but for God’s grace go we.
And in the faces of my children
I see the world much differently.

(C) Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 1989

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Here I am. Send Me?

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’”

Many of us enthusiastically echo the prophet Isaiah’s words. We want to be about The King’s business. We want to make a difference in this world. Our ultimate goal being to hear, “Well done good and faithful servant.” We are inspired by spiritual giants like Billy Graham, Chris Tomlin, Beth Moore, Michael W. Smith, Rick Warren, or Tony Dungy. People extraodinarily gifted by God with high-profile platforms from which to glorify His name. And that’s all we want to do, isn’t it? Bring glory to His name?

But what if…

What if the place God sends us isn’t vast stadiums to preach the Gospel to spell-bound crowds responding in droves to “Just as I Am”?

What if that place isn’t large coliseums leading thousands of youth in singing our Dove Award winning worship songs?

What if that place doesn’t include Nashville recordings, New York Times Best Sellers, or Super Bowl championships?

What if our place to bring God glory isn’t in the spotlight at all?

What if He wants us to shine for Him…

…living in an inner city, run-down apartment?
…while taking dialysis or chemo treatments?
…crying at the bedside of a sick loved one?
…struggling through unemployment and poverty?
…learning humility through humiliation?
…suffering in a concentration camp?
…walking through the valley of the shadow of death?
..."taking one for the team"?

What if the place He sends us, the place we can bring Him most glory is uncomfortable, unsanitary, or downright painful?

Would we still be willing to say, “Here am I. Send Me?”

Do we only want to bring God glory if some of that glory reflects on us?

It’s time for some soul-searching.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." ~ Matthew 16:24-25
(c) Drewe Llyn Jeffcoat 2009