Growing up in Texas, sometimes how I see things are just cultural DNA leftovers – like my illogical affection for pick-up trucks (which my wife will never let me own), my love for the Dallas Cowboys and my belief that I am my mother’s favourite child.  Make no mistake, my brother also believes that he is the favourite.  He’s wrong of course, but it is the crux of a lifelong argument we’ve had.  His perspective is that as the oldest, he has been loved the longest and with the first of a mother’s love.  I will concede his point, but respond with the inherently obvious fact that if he had been that great, they wouldn’t have needed to try and do better.  And as I am the last child, I must have been as close to perfect as they figured they would get.

My mother refuses to engage in the debate other than with the politically correct comment that she loves us both.  (But when she says it, I know she’s winking at me.) 

That being said, I wanted to be honest with y’all.  I love everyone who supports World Relief Canada and the life changing work we do around the world.  But I love some of you more than others…

I know.  That’s borderline scandalous, and possibly job threatening to admit.  But hear me out on this.  I think you might understand, if not even agree with me by the end.

Yesterday I got a phone call from a very close friend.  We met through our kids.  His daughter is the same age as mine and the two girls were in skating lessons together when we first moved to Markham.  He called to tell me a story.  On Friday night they had been out to a Christmas party and had gotten home late.  The next day it quickly became apparent that the girls had not gotten enough sleep the night before.  (If you are a parent, then you will immediately understand that and the probable behavioural indicators that let us know when this is true.)  This being the case, he sent them both to take a nap (or at least have quiet time in their rooms).  The youngest girl fell asleep immediately, but the older girl (who is 7) didn’t quite get to sleep.  In fact, after a little while, she decided to sneak out of her room and go to the basement – where their playroom is.  Surreptitiously, she tiptoed down the stairs, across the hall to the basement door, painstakingly opened  and closed it, and went into the playroom completely unaware that her parents were watching her do this.

They thought about calling her on it as she came down stairs, but decided to wait and “catch her” in the act of playing with her toys during the prescribed “quiet time”.  After a few minutes, my friend opened the door and crept down the basement stairs in order to catch his daughter.  When he reached the bottom he expected to find toys strewn about the room, but instead found her lying on her stomach hard at work.  As he looked around he saw her piggybank lying on its side – open.  Then he saw wrapping paper, tape and plastic bags around her.  Finally his curiosity got the best of him and he called her name. 

She turned around immediately with a look of terror at being “caught” out of her room.  He saw that she had placed all of her money in a ziplock bag and was trying to wrap it in Christmas paper.  He asked her what she was doing – all thought of discipline being completely wiped away by his surprise.  In fact, he started to feel guilty that he had interrupted something that seemed to be incredibly important to her.

Sheepishly, she answered that she was wrapping a present.  “All your money you’ve been saving?” he asked.  She nodded her head.

He let that hang for a moment trying to understand through the perspective of a 7 year old, and then, giving up, he said, “who are you giving it to?”

He was completely unprepared for the response that awaited him.  With eyes that held innocence and compassion, his daughter looked at him directly and said, “to people who don’t have anything.”

Lucas called me after he had regained his composure and asked if I could come have a conversation with his daughter as she wanted to make a donation to World Relief Canada.  Suffice it to say that I said yes.

It’s not the size of her gift that will make the biggest impact.  It’s the size of her heart that will change all of us.

And so, right now, at this moment, while I love all of you equally.  Keira is my favourite.

(But know when I say it, I am winking at you.)

May you know the spirit of Christmas this year like little Keira does.  And may God bless you and your family like Keira has blessed us.

Eric Frans, CFRE

Director of Fund Development

We had the opportunity to engage in the family traditions of others, and to introduce people to some of ours as well.  One of the most meaningful ones is going around the table and speaking aloud some of the things each person is thankful for.

One of the dinners we were invited to had quite a few children at the table – all of them under the age of 8.  The “I am thankful” statements were endearing as they were profound.  I don’t think anything was left out of the overall list.  My daughter made note of the fact that after a few rounds of this no one had bothered to be thankful for our dog, and so she took it upon herself to tell God how thankful she is for her friend, the family dog.  But she was sincere and heartfelt.  For me, seeing and hearing my little girl tell Jesus how thankful she is for her bed and her house, her family and even her dog is about the greatest feeling in the world. 

I don’t know if your family has a similar tradition, but there is something powerful about speaking out thankfulness.  My wife and I “encourage” one another to be thankful for the little things that we do for each other.  If (or when) I forget, I am gently reminded.  For instance, I came home one day from work fairly late and still focusing on the things I hadn’t gotten done at the office.  I walked in and missed the fact that my wife – as a gift to me – had completely tidied and cleaned the downstairs, which was my job to do.  As I sat down at the table to have dinner with the family, my wife gently smiled at me, tilted her head towards the immaculate living room and said, “I will probably be very encouraged when you notice the work I did for you.”  At that point my daughter perked up and said, “Praise your wifey daddy!”

I think God enjoys our praise and thankfulness – especially when we do it collectively and out loud as a family.  It’s simple, but it is powerful.  I honestly believe that God derives great pleasure from our thankfulness.  He loves hearing us and hearing from us.

In case you hadn’t seen or heard yet, our “What’s Your Cause?” campaign, is all about that.  The premise we built on is the fact that we are all created in the image of God.  Each of us mirrors a piece of the creator and His love, care and compassion, and we were meant to care about something.    The purpose of the question “What’s Your Cause?” is to get us to look at ourselves and how God designed us, and to work out with God what it is that you deeply and truly care about.

There are so many things in the world that need attention and require help.  But none of us can do everything – it’s simply overwhelming.  However, if we take the time to stop and consider, the things we care about most will rise up in us, and God will reach down and break your heart for what breaks His.  In that moment, the answer to the question “What’s Your Cause?” will become crystal clear.  You will know.

Be sure, that you can care about many things.  In fact, your cause may change over time as you change.  I know for me, my cause now as a husband and father is very different from what my cause was as a single 20something.  Neither is bad or even better than the other, but the things that God has me focus on has changed.

I want to be clear that our purpose in this campaign is not to influence people into choosing World Relief Canada as their “cause”; rather it is to help people have the conversation with themselves and with God.  Ask the question.  Talk with your friends and family too.  We want you to know your cause – even if it isn’t us!

Often the answer is around us all the time.  It’s inherent in our lives already, we just haven’t formalized it.  But, just as there is something powerful in speaking out what we are thankful for, there is power in declaring our cause.  It will help you cut through the white noise of life and the constant clamouring for attention from the world.  Hear the still small voice of God – He designed you.  He knows your cause.  And He delights in your finding it and engaging with it.

There is some dispute as to who originally said the following, but there is no doubt as to the accuracy of it: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed individuals can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.

It starts with answering the question, “What’s Your Cause?”  Together with you, World Relief Canada has been changing the world, and we will continue to do so – one family, one village at a time.

If you would like more information on how to talk with your family, your small group, your company or others about finding your (and their) cause, you can contact us at worldrelief@wrcanada.org or you can go directly to our website www.wrcanada.org/wyc  We have posters and interactive stickers; conversation starters for children, young adults and adults; and brochures that explain the process. They are our gift to you.

This year, I added to my standard list of things I am thankful for.  I am still thankful for my amazing wife and inspiring daughter; I am thankful for a roof over my head and food in my cupboard.  But this year, I am thankful for the chance to teach my daughter (and myself) the importance of knowing “my cause”.  Talking through it with her helped me know myself a little better and helped me understand her a lot better – and hopefully vice versa.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Eric Frans, CFRE

I got a call at my office on my cell phone from my daughter’s school, telling me that she had come to the office for a second time today complaining of an ear ache.  I immediately packed up my laptop, got into my car and drove to the school to pick her up and take her to a walk-in clinic staffed by a university-degreed medical doctor.  There the doctor pulled an otoscope off the wall and looked into her ears.  He was able to make a sure diagnosis of an ear infection and immediately wrote a prescription for antibiotics (flavoured for children) that we walked across the street to the neighbourhood pharmacy where it was filled in less than 5 minutes for a total cost of $3.99 thanks to health care and extended medical.  We then drove to our house where my daughter changed into another set of clothes (pyjamas) and climbed into her own bed, pulled the covers and blankets up and drank a glass of orange juice before watching a DVD on her personal DVD player.

I wondered how someone from one of the countries where we work might handle the same situation.  There are a couple of things I can be absolutely certain would be the same.  They could have a daughter and she could get an ear infection…

After that, the comparison breaks down completely.  There is no guarantee that they would have a job, much less an office.  Cell phones would be completely out of the question.  Schooling is hit or miss for many families – and daughters being educated is even more rare.  A personal computer of any kind is out of reach for most people living on less than $2/day – as is owning a car or even knowing how to drive.  Medical clinics can be 2-3 days walk away from villages and even then the level of expertise is variable depending on the nature of the clinic.  Often times these clinics are poorly funded and instruments past stethoscopes and tongue depressors are luxuries.  Diagnosis can be best guesses and even if you do get a correct diagnosis, there is no guarantee that the proper medicine is available to treat the issue.  And the cost of obtaining the medicine would most likely be prohibitive anyway.  A girl child with an ear infection would probably have to continue doing her daily chores – walking miles to bring water to the family, cooking, gathering firewood, etc, until the pain became so great that it affected her equilibrium.  Then she would be put on a mat in the corner to recuperate – given occasional drinks of water to cool her burning fever (though the water could easily be contaminated and might cause dysentery).

By the time I picked up my daughter I was so overcome with emotion that I scooped her up and held her for a very long time.  She assumed that I was just concerned that her ear hurt, but it was my heart that hurt far more.

Sometimes we are given a chance to see just how lucky we are – if we can pause long enough to not miss it.

If you took the time to make a list, how many things have you taken for granted today?  Take a moment and thank God for them – or take a lot of moments, depending on how many there are…

One thing we never take for granted at World Relief Canada is you – our friends and supporters who care about the work we do and the people we help.  I took some time today to say a quick prayer of thanks for you, but thought I ought to say thanks to you personally as well!

So, THANK YOU!

Eric Frans, CFRE

Director of Fund Development

Even this weekend, I had a friend comment that just watching the news makes him feel callous.  He looked me right in the eyes and said, “Be honest with me.  Is it easier for you to just think of these things in terms of numbers and statistics?”

I had to think about that for a minute.  I suppose it would be easier to think of the people we help simply as “beneficiaries” and to keep focused on the percentages and figures on a page.  It would be simpler to de-humanize the people who are affected and afflicted around the world by just talking about the issues themselves.  Hunger is easier to focus on than a specific person who is starving to death.  It is much easier to think about Poverty as a concept rather than feeling the heartbreak of a child who is forced into prostitution because of it.  And, if I am being honest, there are times when I do find myself looking at the “big picture” just so I can escape the emotional pain of individual portraits.

But that shell I retreat into is usually shattered every day – the moment I walk through my front door and my 6-year old daughter launches herself into my arms with gales of laughter and squeals of “daddy’s home!”  You see, she is who I think of when I talk about our projects in Africa and Asia.  It is her face I see when I think of children in poverty.  When I know there are parents who wake up each day and have to tell their children that there is nothing to eat today, I imagine how I would feel if I had to say that to her.  As I walk her to school each day, I consider all the children who won’t be educated because they have to work, or because they are too sick to attend or they simply don’t have the money to afford basic needs – much less a “luxury” like education.

She has become my anchor, my lens and my portrait.  She grounds me, focuses me and makes me see the individuals rather than just the issues.

For instance, it was just a couple of months ago that conflict broke out in Ivory Coast on the west coast of Africa.  This region is no stranger to bloodshed and violence – close neighbours Sierra Leone and Liberia have emerged from civil wars in the last decades that killed untold numbers of men, women and children.  And it appeared that Ivory Coast was descending into similar violence and chaos.  When the fighting began, thousands and thousands of families began fleeing their homes for safety.  Neighbouring Liberia was inundated with people who had left everything and ran.  Refugees piled in faster than we could imagine – men, women and children looking for a place to rest and be safe.

As people poured across the border, there were no refugee camps waiting - there was no place for them and no materials with which to construct them.  It would be weeks before they could be set up.  But the Liberians understood their plight.  It was not that long ago that they had fled their homes and land – many of them into the safety of Ivory Coast.  They saw themselves in the faces of these families.  And they did what they had to – they opened up their homes and took in these refugees.  They invited them in and did what they could to help.

And while that alone is admirable, there is something more to this that you should know.  Liberia is a very poor country.  It is considered “food insecure”.  More than half the population of Liberia goes to sleep hungry every night.  They don’t have enough food for themselves – and yet they willingly shared with those who had nothing.  Simply put, the hungry were feeding the starving.

When I heard this, I had to ask myself, “if I could barely feed my daughter – my only child – would I take food away from her to help someone else?”  I know what I want to think I would do.  But these Liberian families know for sure what they would do – because they did it.  Meal after meal.  Day after day.  Week after week.  They shared with others from their “not enough”.

It didn’t take long for World Relief Canada and our partners – the Canadian Food Grains Bank, Tearfund UK and the Association of Evangelicals of Liberia – to take action to help out, and very quickly the Ivorian Refugees Assistance Project was born.

Just last week we received word that the first round of food distribution was completed and almost 270 metric tons of food was distributed to families in need.  The food was distributed both to Ivorian refugees as well as Liberian families who had so generously given that they too were dealing with acute hunger.  5,500 families were supplied with food staples to ensure they would have the necessary nutrition.  Over 3,700 of those were refugee families and some 1,700 were Liberian families whose communities were caring for the desperate Ivorians.

This food distribution is a good start to dealing with the situation.  In fact, words cannot adequately describe the appreciation and thanks conveyed by the mothers and fathers whose children now have enough food to eat.  However, this is not the end of the need.  We will continue to work with these families to ensure they have food to eat for at least another three month period.  Enough time for the families from Ivory Coast to be sure that it is safe to return to their homes and livelihoods.  And sufficient food to ensure that the communities hosting them also have enough to eat while they are there.

Last week, my daughter came home from school telling us she was “starving”.  I asked her if she had eaten her lunch.  She said yes, but it wasn’t enough because one of her friends had forgotten to bring a lunch and she had to share hers.  At that moment I was both proud and heartbroken.  Proud that my daughter had stepped up and shared what she had with someone in need, and heartbroken to realize that too many people understand the reality of starvation in our world.

This month, we sent out a letter explaining more about Liberia and some of the other food projects that we have going on there.  If you haven’t received in, you can read it on our website here.  There are too many people hungry in this world.  Too many parents having to comfort a child whose cries are the result of hunger pain.  And yet, these same people willing share with those who have less.  The hungry are feeding the starving.

Tonight my daughter and I are going to have a long conversation about how blessed we are to live in a country like Canada.  Tonight, I am going to look into her eyes and thank God for two things: that she is willing to share what she has, and that she doesn’t have to starve to do it.

Eric Frans, CFRE

Compared to “other Americans”, Evangelicals stood out in their opinions on military spending. Evangelicals were more likely to favour an increase in defence spending (45 percent) compared to non-evangelicals (28 percent). They also stood in stark contrast on the issue of education. When asked about education funding in general, 68 percent of non-evangelicals support increased spending compared to only 35 percent of evangelicals. If I am going to be honest, then I have to admit that neither of these things shocked me. I was raised in the buckle of the Bible Belt down in Texas and I imagine that if I had continued to live there, then I might have said the same thing if asked. They have reasons for their point of view, which are valid to them and I respect differing opinions. I also understand that a point of view is simply a view from a point, and as I have lived around the world, the point of my view has changed.

I confess that I am often overwhelmed by the plethora of good and honest causes that call out in dire need for supporters.  Because donations were once made to the Cancer Society in lieu of flowers at a family funeral, I am on every list of every cancer related drive that comes to our area.  Similar donations in the names of deceased friends and relatives who requested a particular charity or ministry be remembered also keep me well-informed of need. Long after the donation is processed, I remain on these lists too. Now in the midst of worldwide economic struggles, natural disasters, and tragedies far and wide, I am inundated by causes that legitimately cry out for help, calling me to see the world through the eyes of a child, a recovering drug addict, a victim of sex-trafficking, illness, or earthquake. Whatever your belief-system or creed, the haunting crescendo of heartfelt cries is never easily met with a deaf ear. There is so much need. 

“When the foundations are being destroyed,” cried the psalmist, “what can the righteous do?” (Psalm 11:3). When need is deep and poverty unplumbed, when hopelessness seems one long, uninterrupted lament — from screams of natural disaster and tears of economic disaster to the silenced cries of injustice across the world — what can I do? When the decision to support one cause is a decision against supporting another, when money can only go so far and can hardly touch the depths of the issues around us, we can become not only paralyzed to make the decision, but inclined to take a large step away from all of it. And I, for one, often euphemize my mental retreat to the one asking for support: “Not at this time,” “I'll think about it,” or even worse, “Let me pray about it.” For behind my words is too often a manifestation of indifference “Wait” almost always means “never.”

In his letter from a Birmingham jail, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. responded to fellow American clergy who were asking him to wait for a better time to pursue the cause of justice in the South. “Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, ‘Wait,’” he wrote. “But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick, brutalize and even kill with impunity your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society… when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of ‘nobodiness’ — then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.” ⁽¹⁾ To call for those suffering to wait is to institutionalize our apathy.

Though at times unconsciously taken, our steps away from the center of the world's pain to a place where we can clear our heads and find perspective are invariably steps toward putting it out of our heads. Requesting time to think, we are requesting time itself to stop. We are asking those with urgent needs to pause for the sake of our own relief. We ask those affected by injustice and hunger, darkness and pain, racism and religious persecution to cover their faces in nobodiness while we step away from it all.  But as Dr. King observed prophetically, “Justice too long delayed is justice denied.’”

When Jesus said that we would always have the poor with us, he did not say it with the despair of one who looks around and sees how vast is the need and poverty of a hurting world. He did not say it with apathy or indifference, needing time to step away or find perspective. On the contrary, he said it knowing every face in the immense crowd of nobodiness, knowing every name we would try not to learn when the pain of others becomes unbearable. He said it living in time where tears are real, yet conscious of eternity when tears will be no more, showing us the mindset he longs for us to hold: a non-answer is very clearly an answer. “Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me,” he said plainly.

The cries of the oppressed and brokenhearted will continue to resound though many of us sit in comfortable apathy and languid affluence. And the call of Christ can be heard in the midst of it all, urging us to set aside all that entangles and follow after him and into the heart of it. The poor and the downcast will indeed always be with us, and where we will allow ourselves to see, it will be overwhelming. They need justice, they need mercy, and they need our time — even as Jesus seems to tell us that it is we who are most in need of them. When he told the crowds that the poor would always be near, he said it as if it were a promise that he, too, would be near. He made the comment knowing that throughout most of history the Son of God would not be with us in the flesh. But in the cup of cold water delivered to the thirsty, in the reaching out to the downtrodden and oppressed, he is indeed there among us. He is both the hand extended to the one hurting and the eyes of the one in need — destroying the notion of nobodiness two faces at a time.

⁽¹⁾ Martin Luther King, Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther (New York:HarperCollins, 1991), 292.

A CBC News report wrote, “But that milestone is secondary to the intense interest in the piece by the public and emotions it evoked in many of the people who participated.” The article goes on to say,

“Abramovic herself was surprised at what she saw when she looked into people's eyes. ‘So much pain and so much loneliness. People have these incredible emotions and I give them the space to express them,’ she said. Many of those who sat opposite her cried. Although the experience took place in a public gallery, with many others watching, ‘after a while they really meet my gaze and the whole world disappears,’ she said.”

The artist commented that it appeared that the reactions and emotions from those who sat across from her revealed many different reasons for their reactions, but that for many the experience was profound.

The importance of eye contact is stressed in a number of areas such as public speaking, counseling, relationship building and even negotiating. But let me try to summarize what I think I heard from the artist although the observation flows into my own thoughts on the subject. The experience moved from ‘glance’ or ‘contact’ to what might be termed ‘connection’. For some this meant first looking away before coming back to the more intense and prolonged encounter. But it’s not hard to imagine that this began to move to the belief that someone was interested, cared or even simply was there for you. Our day to day contacts are so brief; our world has become full of sound bytes; our individualism often isolates us; we find it hard to listen intently to anyone for more than seconds without glancing at our Blackberries (or IPhones) and yet we remain part of a human race that craves relationship and community. I believe the need goes well beyond the lonely and damaged people that have had significant difficult experiences and touches all of us.

There may not be a special magic in our retina but it takes a kind of commitment to look someone in the eye and then keep that focus. The look takes on depth and what might be termed a soul connection. There seems to become a flow of empathy, caring, sharing of burden, a release from the loneliness of shouldering the load by yourself.

This artist’s performance took me back many years to when I had occasion to sing and speak at an evening service at the Harbour Light Mission in Toronto. Two things struck me as they closed the service. The first was that my audience was compelled to be there. They had to come into the service to be able to go to supper after. The second was that from experience I knew that many of these men knew the gospel story and Bible at least as well as I did. The only thing I felt I could do was reach out as they passed by on their way to eat, shake hands and say hi or maybe God Bless you. Knowing that they wouldn’t stop to chat I prayed that they would see the love of Christ and His compassion in my eyes in that brief encounter. One young guy seemed to feel that connection and I gave him my phone number and he later called me at a desperate point in his life. But that’s another story.

If we are to bring peace, minister to, or even just escape our own loneliness in the middle of a texting world of social media we need to find a way to link our souls with the souls of others. We need to move from a simple glance at a person passing by to gazing into their eyes and on into their heart.

Recently, I was one of those "stuck" in Europe due to volcanic ash and flight interruptions. I was “forced” to spend a couple of extra days sightseeing in Bratislava and Vienna, eat well and sleep in a nice, clean hotel.

Personally, I don’t believe I’m that affected by this. I suppose it’s because I am a more visual or experiential person. For me to be refreshed the sun needs to shine or spring needs to arrive. I can be driving in a snowstorm, have the sun break through and find not only my mood change but even my outlook on life will turn more hopeful and optimistic.

The changing of the date for me is simply technical and provides no real evidence of change, whereas the sun and changing seasons provide some physical evidence to my sensory perception that somehow my feeble brain interprets as hope or at least the possibility of positive change to come.

For those of you who find the rolling over to a new year a stimulus for hope it probably is largely due to fundamentals of western society that form a backdrop to our lives. Education, assistance programs, mobility, rest and relaxation, employment opportunities (yes even in challenging times), financial assistance, health programs etc. etc. all are foundational to the hope that comes from the new year.      

However, a significant number of people in our world have no such resources. There is nothing available in any of their senses or knowledge that gives rise to hope for the coming new year. If anything the heartbreaks and challenges of 2010 will drive them deeper towards despair.

As I write this, my hope arising for 2010 comes from my belief that more of us are forming a better perspective on poverty with a new level of responsibility and that our priorities are slowly changing.

Laurie Cook,
C.E.O., World Relief Canada

I have a great deal of respect for these workers, their dedication and their resiliency. As an aside, organizations such as Tearfund UK and others watch carefully for signs of the affects this work has on their employees and are to be admired for the care and support that they give.

If there is credibility to the term “weary in well doing” it must surely apply to those who daily give wholeheartedly the best of themselves. At times you feel the weariness in Walker’s words. Other times you recognize the internal torture that comes from facing unspeakable human tragedy. But there are also exhilarating descriptions of the celebration and even euphoria that is unique to being a first hand witness to transformation and hope rising from the ashes of extreme poverty and suffering.

Observing the lives and work of so many workers such as Ed Walker and more well-known ones such as Henri Nouwen, we sense that there is something much more enduring than compassion. There is a deep rooted love. And this love endures not only in their own lives but in the transformed lives of those they have reached; individuals, families and entire communities.

Jill Carratini for Ravi Zacharias’ “Slice of Infinity” wrote about “the love we write across the lives of others”.

Paul reminds us that love is the greatest mark our lives can leave behind because it belongs as much to eternity as it does to this moment.  Even after our faith becomes sight and our hope is fulfilled, love endures, continuing on from the present and into days long after us.  In love, as in worship, the present touches eternity, and what is seen in part whispers of the promise that it will one day be even more fully known.

It is a conviction to live with, and for Christians, it is one we are called to live. “My command is this,” says Jesus. “Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13-14). In the lives we reach out to, the hands we hold in times of despair, and in the hearts we vow to love, we leave the indelible marks of eternity. As we would respond to pangs of hunger with food and water, we are called to respond to the cries of a broken world with the love of God, made known at the Cross. Greater love has no one than this. Like a postcard circulating long after our days, the love we write across the lives of others will continue to speak, whispering that God is among us, crying out beyond the grave that could neither silence nor contain Him.

Laurie Cook,
C.E.O., World Relief Canada

When All Else Fails, Worry!