the least of these

Sending it ahead

2012-02-21T18:23:00.001-05:00

What is a meaningful life? What does it mean to have an impact? The way the world usually measures it, theanswer typically includes wealth, recognition, prestige, and perhaps power. Only on rare occasions does the answer immediatelyinclude service, especially service to those the world has forgotten.

By most standards, Paul Husby met the definitionsof meaningful and impacting. He was theCEO of 3M Corporation for the nation of Brazil; he was at the top of theladder. A few years ago he returned tothe U.S. from Brazil to retire, having already led that meaningful life.

But Paul found himself dissatisfied with theworld’s measure of impact. He was notready to sit quietly by and say, “I’ve done enough.” Instead, he started asking questions abouteternal impact, and what it means to be really meaningful. Hope Unlimited’s CEO, Philip Smith, asked Paul if he would be willing toreturn to Brazil with his wife, Nancy, and take a leading role for Hope in thecity of Vitoria. That request led to this letter sent to the Smiths a few weeksago:

DearPhilip and Corenne,

Yesterdaymorning after receiving your email the previous night, God answered Philip’squestion through verses that were in Nancy's Bible study lesson...God figuredHe needed to make his message abundantly clear so He did, through the followingBible verses.

James 1:26-27: If anyone among you thinks he isreligious, and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, thisone's religion is useless. Pure and undefiled religion before God and theFather is this: to visit the orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keeponeself unspotted from the world.

We go toVitoria seeing this as God's answer to prayer. Every morning for the pastmonths there are many Hope Unlimited topics that I pray about, looking forGod's answer. One of those is our calling related to Hope Mountain; God hasanswered this prayer with great clarity. Philip, let's talk so we can developthe next steps in this journey. God bless both of you. You are great models of living by faith.

Paul

In Philip’s words, “I bet neither Paul nor Nancyimagined that they would become missionaries! But knowing the need, they werenot content just going on with their lives. God gave them both a holy discontent.Their example of living out their faith is truly inspirational.”

Now, please do not misunderstand me. This is not written to indict anyone forworking in the commercial world. OurBoard at Hope Unlimited is filled with good, godly people who are able to makea significant difference in the organization precisely because they have beensuccessful at business and are using their successes to minister to the leastof these.

But this is, at least, a cautionary tale. If we find our fulfillment in fame, wealth,and power, then we are missing what God really has for us. True fulfillment comes not from status in theeyes of the world, but from being obedient to the one who said, “Feed mylambs.”

Or, as Randy Alcorn says, “You cannot take it withyou, but you can send it ahead.”

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where mothand rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up foryourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and wherethieves do not break in and steal. Matthew 6:19-20

But with God

2012-02-13T18:38:00.000-05:00

I listened with horror as the social worker, Adrianna, told us Fran’s life story. With her mother dying of AIDS, custody of Fran was given to her older sister. That was when her nightmare really began. Instead of caring for her, the older sister prostituted her 12-year-old little sister, selling her on a nightly basis. Her story only got worse from there.

I interrupted Adrianna’s recitation by asking, “What will happen to her? In the U.S., she would be so scarred that she would probably be institutionalized for life.”

Now it was Adrianna’s turn to look at me with horror—or perhaps angry indignation that anyone would give up on a child. “But with God. . .,” she said, an emphatic plea in her voice. Please, please don’t give up on a child.

But with God . . .

That was my first trip to Brazil, my introduction to the work of Hope Unlimited. If I were to grab one phrase to talk about the transformation I see in the lives of children who have experienced life in ways that no child should ever know, that would be it. But with God . . .

The reality of that phrase is so visible at Hope’s graduate church. Young adults have lived out that “But with God . . . “ in their own lives, so they know that no person is beyond transformation. Not the addict living in the weeds on the vacant lot next to the church. Not the 50-year-old enslaved in prostitution living in a shack in the nearby slum. This community of believers sees people God loves; lives that God can transform, can redeem.

And so they minister. They go to rehab with the addict. They buy the woman out of her slavery, and put a new roof on her house. They live the promise of “But with God. . .”

And Fran? I stood beside her the day she accepted Christ as Savior. I watched her absolutely blossom into a beautiful young lady who took joy in every moment of life. I saw the transformation.

But with God . . .

Breaking the Cycle

2012-02-06T16:00:00.000-05:00

Transforming the lives of children at mortal risk, providing them and their future generations a productive future and eternal hope.

Mission Statement (emphasis added)

Hope Unlimited for Children

One of the most disturbing realities of the abandoned or exploited child crisis is that it is almost always multi-generational. As such, it is self-propagating and constantly growing. Virtually every child who comes to us from the streets or from a situation of abuse is “simply” the most recent in a family lineage of lost children. A prostitute mother has six or eight children for whom street life, abuse, and exploitation is the norm ... and then each of those children (or at least the ones who survive) repeat the cycle.

Generation after generation after generation.

I cannot tell you how many times I have heard a child, when telling the story of his or her life say, “I never knew my father, and my mother was a prostitute . . .” Even more disturbing are those who say, “I was born in the favela, I live in the favela, and I will die in the favela. I don’t deserve anything else.”

Perhaps the most important task for those of us in orphan work is to break the cycle, not only rescuing the child, but changing the trajectory for the generations yet to come.

I first met Natalie when she was 20 years old. Hers is an amazing story of hope—and Hope. We met at one of the first worship services at our graduate church. As she stood to take the microphone and share her life story, she began, “I am shy, and have never spoken in public before, so I don’t know if I can do this.” Forty-five minutes later, it was obvious she had gotten over her fear of public speaking!

But her story was a remarkable one, and no one regretted the investment of time to hear it. When Natalie was nine, her mother began to prostitute her. Her mother. At age 11, Natalie had a child, but the baby was bad for business, so Natalie’s mother - the baby’s grandmother - said to get rid of her. Natalie found an older woman in the favela who would care for her baby - and care for her.

Some time later, the juvenile authorities brought Natalie to Hope. Natalie told our staff the story of her child, and our social workers were able to find the woman and the young child. As Natalie grew older, one of our social workers took her to see her daughter on weekends, helping them to form a relationship. After several years, Natalie graduated from Hope, met a young man, led him to Christ, and they were married. Because the woman raising Natalie’s daughter was growing older, it was agreed that little Talia would go and live with Natalie and her husband.

About that time in Natalie’s telling of the story, I looked over and saw eight-year-old Talia sitting with her new father. An eight-year-old with parents barely out of their teens. She was clean, well-dressed, quietly reading a book while her mother spoke.

I could only marvel at how different her life will be from that of her mother. No nights on the streets. No selling her body.

No repeating the cycle.

The trajectory has changed for Natalie and her future generations. I do not worry that Talia - or her children - will be wards of the court; that they will need to live at Hope. The cycle has been broken. A life filled with hope has become the new normal.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11

Together, we can be His hands (and His voice) for the children. Together, we can break the cycle ...

To be a child

2012-01-31T19:03:00.001-05:00

They called him The Jackal.

He was only 12 years old, but his exploits took him far beyond his years. A field commander in one of Africa’s many civil wars, he was known for his fearlessness and, ultimately, for his brutality. He stood before the NBC cameras with an intense stare as a reporter posed the question: “What will you do when this war is over?”

“I want to be a child.”

I want to be a child. An extreme example? Yes. But the yearning to be a child, to have someone provide, to be loved, to be held, to be protected, to have a chance to play without worrying about survival is the reality for millions of children.

Over 200 million children never have a chance to BE children as they scramble daily just to survive; the percentage of children finding provision through orphanages, foster care programs, and adoptions has little effect on the problem. In Brazil, the country where we serve, millions of children are biological and social orphans, consigned to a life on the streets. But children in long-term care there number only in the thousands.

So what do we do about it?

Step outside of our comfort zones. Encounter the real world of millions of children. Research the “silent” problems. Get the facts. Go on a mission trip. Listen to your heart. Put your money where your mouth is. Make a difference.

Demand that others do the same. The orphans of our world become visible only when we insist that others see them. Do not allow your church to be satisfied with missions as a department of the church when it should be the DNA.

Give a child the gift of childhood. For their sake … and yours.

Valentine's 2012

2012-01-23T19:11:00.000-05:00

Last February I introduced our readers to Hope's annual Valentine's Project. We transform Brazil's Day of Love to make it a special affirmation and learning time for our girls, and we inviting you to participating with us. Because many of you are new to "The Least of These," I am reposting last year's blog.

It is an appalling truth that many of the girls at Hope have been sexually abused and exploited. Thanks to the grace of God, that is forever in the past as soon as they reach our campus. Unfortunately, it’s a more difficult and much slower process to change their self-perception. These children have been taught since birth that they have value only as a sexual object.

But Hope Unlimited is about transformation. Our story is of a tragic beginning absolutely overwhelmed by a triumphant end.

Each February, churches and individuals across the U.S. add a little something to their Valentine’s preparations. As they make cards for friends and family, and maybe for that special loved one, they take the time to make a card for one of our girls. The cards are given to the girls during a party celebrating Brazil’s Day of Love in early summer.

As the valentines are passed out, godly women talk to them about the meaning of love, the importance of purity, and their value as the highest creations of the God that truly loves them. The smiles and squeals as the girls open their valentines are great rewards, but having the chance to change their self-perception means so much more.

We are heartbroken by the lives these girls were forced to lead before they came to Hope. But we rejoice to see their innocence restored, to know that our God is a God of new beginnings.

Help these girls celebrate their new beginning! Send your valentines to Hope Unlimited for Children, PO Box 2707, Los Alamitos, CA 90720

Sovereignty

2012-01-09T17:25:00.000-05:00

Reading Psalm 90 this week:

Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.

Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the whole world,

From everlasting to everlasting, you are God. (Psalm 90:1-2)

Okay, God, we understand; all of this is yours. You are in charge; it’s your work, not ours. But You have told us to care for your children, for the least of these. So what is our role? And even more, where are You when our best efforts to touch their lives seem thwarted?

I have to admit that I get a bit frustrated with God here. These are your little ones; why do You let this world, your creation, treat them like this? Why do your children live on the streets? Why are they abandoned and abused and exploited? Why are hundreds of thousands of young girls prostituted every year?

Why isn’t doing everything we can to be obedient enough to fix the problems? Why won’t You make it all better?

The answer is not easy, and not always satisfying. This is God’s call, not ours. He sees the bigger picture, and understands how this will all work out; we just see the immediate hurt.

Our role is not to be successful, but to be obedient. As much as we would like to wipe away all the hurt, to take care of every child, to dry every tear, we don’t get to choose the results. God is in charge of results; our responsibility is to be faithful.

But what we must never forget is that God loves these little ones even more passionately than we. He holds them in His hands, and blesses us by inviting us to be a part of His provision for them.

May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us;

Establish the work of our hands for us—yes, establish the work of our hands. (Psalm 90:17)

Beginnings

2012-01-02T16:04:00.000-05:00

New Years, 2012. Already?

A friend and I were talking a few days ago about getting older, and how time seems to accelerate with age. He told me that his elderly dad had recently remarked, “This has been the quickest life.” I am finding that to be more and more true myself.

Fortunately, throughout our lives we have chances to press the reset button, and the beginning of a new year is a natural time to do that. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions per se, but I do find myself deciding that some part of my life—usually related to self-discipline—will be different in the coming year. I have the tools to make it happen if only I will.

For the orphan, the abused and exploited child, the street kid, change is not just a matter of a decision and the self-discipline to follow through; it is about context. They are trapped in environments that do not give them the option of living life differently. What astounds those of us who work closely with these children is how very quickly they embrace new beginnings.

When children arrive for the first time at Hope’s City of Youth, it is usually in the back of a squad car. They have been taken off the streets or rescued from abusive homes or exploitative environments by the police. Given the history of the relationship between law enforcement and residents of the slums in Brazil, it is no surprise that the children come to us absolutely terrified. More often than not, we find them near hysteria, not knowing why they have been taken from their homes or their places of familiarity, and dumped in this new place.

But in a matter of days, we see a remarkable change, a new beginning for a lost child. Where there had been fear, we see confidence. Where there was pain, we see healing. Where there was fear, we see hope. It is almost impossible to describe the breadth and the depth of the transformation that takes place in these children.

What they need is a chance.

So this year, I will make a resolution: In 2012, I will change the context for a child. I will provide the tools, the environment, the help necessary to make at least one life different from what it is now.

Will you join me?

A Christmas Wish

2011-12-19T17:11:00.000-05:00

I have never done this before in this blog, and I promise I will not do it very often, but I need to say this.

Give.

Now.

As we make final preparations for Christmas, there is a world around that is hurting; there are millions of people in need. We recently sent an appeal out to our Hope Unlimited family. It looked like this:



Millions of children on the streets. Tens of millions living in poverty. Hundreds of thousands of girls forced into prostitution. These numbers are so huge we want to throw our hands up in despair. But we must never forget: every one of those millions is a child.
	For over two decades, Hope Unlimited for Children has transformed the world one child at a time. And every single day, you have been the hand on our shoulder. Hope exists today because of the faithful support of people who see beyond the numbers; people who see each child as a story yet to be told.

Award-winning programs currently touch the lives of over 1200 children every day, but as we begin our third decade, Hope stands poised to impact the lives of more children than ever. Our new prison initiative will take us down new roads, introducing us to a whole new group of boys and girls who desperately need the transforming touch of Hope. A whole new set of stories yet to be told.

	We cannot move forward without you. Our end-of-year goal is $900,000 - 40% of our annual budget. To date, we still have almost $500,000 yet to secure. This is not a budget of extravagance, but a bare minimum needed to secure another year of transforming lives. So today, please prayerfully consider investing in a young life. Help a child add Hope to their story.

So please,

Give.

Now.

Advent (again)

2011-12-12T16:42:00.000-05:00

I have to admit that I often find myself conflicted at this time of year. (Perhaps even conflicted about using the word “conflicted”; it seems far too trite, too trendy a word to approach a serious subject.) There is so much right about Christmas: celebrating the coming of our Savior, hearing the wonderful music of the season, the lights, the smiles of anticipation and then realization on the faces of children.

But there is also much to give us pause: conspicuous consumerism, embarrassing scenes of adults fighting over the must-have toy of the year, excess. These things leave me wanting to grab the world by the collar and give it a good shake: “Don’t you get it?”

But today it seems that more and more people do get it. I see them -- often entire families -- looking for ways to move beyond the materialism of the day and instead have an impact for others. They turn to things like Angel Tree, Toys for Tots, Advent Conspiracy, Heifer International, and our own Five for Ten, just to name a few.

During this Advent season, I hope you are one who is investing in the lives of the least of these. And if you are, I pray that your investment is not just a one-time conscience salve that lets you feel good about yourself before you go back to business as usual on January 1. Caring for the orphans, the prisoners, the at-mortal-risk is not about writing a check once a year; it requires a commitment -- a lifestyle -- that is constantly aware, and constantly engaged in changing the world for the 100 million children with no home, no family.

I’d like to challenge you: Each of the next five years, increase your giving to the cause of the least of these by 1% of your annual income. Guess what? If we all do that, we’ll have essentially all the funding we need to rescue every one of the children.

One percent a year... then be prepared to hear, “You have done it unto me.”

Why not the best

2011-12-06T17:17:00.000-05:00

We received really exciting news from Brazil last week. Just as in the U.S., Brazilian states put great emphasis on standardized testing to measure the effectiveness of their schools. The state of Espirito Santo, where our Hope Mountain campus is located, just released statewide standardized test scores, and Hope Mountain had the highest average scores of any school in the state. The average student score statewide was 418; the second highest school's students averaged 516. The scores of the students at our Hope Mountain school averaged 620.

As you read those numbers, remember where our kids come from: our residential students are former street kids, and our day students come from the poorest of the poor in the slums. They come to Hope Mountain with virtually no academic background and are often illiterate when they first arrive. But now they have bragging rights for the entire state!

Word of these results caused me to reflect on our attitude toward the orphans and impoverished of the world. Is a top-tier school really necessary for these kids? Wouldn’t something far more rudimentary serve them just as well? For that matter, do they need really nice clothes, and more than just a pallet on a floor somewhere? After all, shouldn’t they be grateful for whatever we provide?

We probably would not say it that way, but isn’t that pretty close to the way we really feel? Far too often, we want to pass them our leftovers, that which is too worn out to be of use to us anymore. Or, we want to give of our excess, the overabundance whose loss will not impact our lifestyles.

No widow’s mite for us!

But what if we looked at life a bit differently? What if we gave not of our excess, but of our necessity, and then trusted God to provide? What if we believed they deserved to live as well as we do?

Yesterday my wife and I joined The Fellowship at Cinco Ranch for one of their Advent Conspiracy services. The logo for the event caught my eye: a pair of darkened silhouettes; one, an obviously modern woman pushing a full shopping cart toward the second figure -- a wiseman riding a camel. Above the two shone a single star.

In this season of consumption, can we not push back from the table before we are full, and give not our leftovers, but our necessities?

Advent 2011

2011-11-28T18:46:00.000-05:00

Advent. Coming. The celebration of the incarnation.

Why? Not why celebrate; if any event in the course of human history called for celebration, it is this one. But why did God choose to “become flesh and dwell among us”? Why leave the glory of heaven for the travails and rejection of this world? Why face the pain of the cross?

The answer is actually quite simple in its profoundness, “for God so loved the world . . .”

Wasn’t there an easier way? In a word, “No.” For you see, love is not remote; it requires engagement, involvement. It is not sufficient to sit in the realm of the eternal and love distantly. The incarnation of God in Christ was the absolutely inevitable result of the overwhelming love the Father has for us. Of course God became man; His nature made it requisite. Love meant walking alongside us, experiencing our pain, and living the life of a man.

So what does Advent demand of us? That we live as the incarnation of the One who once walked with us.

One billion children in poverty. Twenty-six thousand die every day from hunger-related illness. One hundred million social and biological orphans. For them, our distant love is not enough. All our positive thoughts and compassion will not fill an empty stomach, dry a tear of pain, or provide a warm bed.

We must be Christ for them. That means that in this season of Advent, we give, of ourselves, of our time, of our resources.

Because Love comes.

The least of these . . . Really?

2011-11-14T19:00:00.000-05:00

If we are to be completely honest, I think most of us will admit to having a bit of a problem with this verse. Not the stranger or sick part, and certainly not the hungry and thirsty part, or perhaps even the naked part. We get those. But there is one more thing in that passage that may make most of us pretty uncomfortable.

I was in prison and you visited me.

I don’t think so.

I can look at the others that Jesus called the least of these, and understand and sympathize with their plights. If someone is hungry or thirsty, or if they are in need of clothes, or if they are sick or strangers, I can see why we should act in Christian charity (in the original sense of that word: “to act in love”) toward them. Bottom line, most of these things are circumstances imposed upon someone, not something necessarily caused by a person’s own choices.

But prison is a different matter. As a friend said to me recently, “My perspective is, if they are in prison, they probably belong there.” But Jesus included the prisoner in his recital of those for whom we are to care. How can we understand this directive? After all, He seems pretty serious about it: His words to those who do not care for the least of these (including prisoners) is “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not visit me.”

We have a few choices in how we approach this. Perhaps Jesus was speaking in some kind of holy hyperbole—exaggerating to get our attention. Or maybe the prisoners to whom He referred were unjustly jailed for their political views.

Probably not. There is nothing in the text to support either of those approaches. I think Jesus meant exactly what He said. So how do we get our arms around this one?

I think the key begins here: there is no gradation of sin. “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Jesus never looked at the prisoner and said, “You know, there is a qualitative difference between a prisoner’s sin and the sin of my followers.” We are all alienated from God because of sin in our lives, and, before experiencing the saving grace of Jesus, I was as much a stranger to God as a death-row inmate.

But Christ loved me anyway.

In Brazil, there are over 14,000 children incarcerated in unspeakably terrible conditions. Worldwide, estimates put the number of children in prison at over half a million. Are these bad kids? Yes. Murderers? Yep. Rapists, drug dealers, kidnappers? Without question.

. . . And we are called to be the hands of the Christ who loves them.

Wading in the political pool

2011-11-08T12:17:00.001-05:00

I have watched with considerable interest the “Occupy” movement these last few weeks, just as I did the Tea Party last year. Anyone watching, whatever their political persuasion, has to be impressed with the passion and the intensity of both groups—which sometimes erupt even to the point of crossing the bounds of civil engagement.

But, if you will allow me to offer an observation . . . Even though these two manifestations are generally from the opposite sides of the political spectrum, both are essentially self-focused and self-promoting in nature. Perhaps over-simplified, one group wants the government to leave them alone to pursue their own vision of the American dream, and the other wants the government more involved to protect their pursuit of the American dream. But in both cases, it is still self-interest: I want the government to act in this way for my benefit.

So here is my question: what if this passion, this intensity were directed outward, instead of inward, and was for benefit of others, instead of self? What if, with all the emotion of the Tea Partiers, all the deeply held beliefs of the Occupiers, we asked ourselves the question, “How can we change the world for the least of these?”

Perhaps to the point of Philippians 2, where we are told to have the mind of Christ, “who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped.” Do you hear that? He is God, with all the rights and prerogatives of the Creator and Lord of the Universe. But, instead of demanding his rightful place, he “made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.” And this is our example. So, what if instead of insisting on our rights, we truly marshal our energies for the orphan, for the widow, for the dispossessed of our world?

Salvageable

2011-11-01T17:35:00.000-04:00

My friend, Barry, has a very interesting business, and it strikes me that his model is a really good metaphor for how we might view the orphans of our world. I’m going to tell you about that, but first let me give you some background on his business.

Barry buys and sells steel. As you may know, steel usually comes in thin sheets – 48 or maybe 60 inches wide – and often over 100 feet long. The long sheets are then coiled and sold to manufacturers as “cold rolls.” With standard cuts, there is often significant waste. If, for example, a 48” wide roll was purchased, but the manufacturer only needs a 44” wide section to make their product, the last 4” is traditionally viewed as scrap and sold for pennies on the dollar. Barry, however, doesn’t see scrap but rather opportunity. He purchases the leftover steel for a few cents above the scrap price. He then finds a company that uses smaller pieces of steel (for example, a curtain rod manufacturer). He uncoils the steel, cuts it to the appropriate size, polishes it, then turns a very nice profit on the sale.

Interestingly enough, Barry’s perspective doesn’t stop with steel. Only a few days ago, he said to me, “I want my life to be about redeeming. I’m always looking to hire that guy the world may have cast off, but inside him is potential waiting to be redeemed. When you take what’s destined for scrap and shape something useful out of it, then you’ve really done something.”

His model works – both with business and with people - because where others see scrap, he sees potential. Perhaps orphans are the scrap metal of our world, destined to be discarded. But in each child lies the potential of something new, of something beautiful. Our task is to see not the discard, but the promise in every child.

Perhaps our staff member, Dayane, says it best in the signature line of her emails: “Because every child is a story yet to be told.”

VIEWING the Story of Hope

2011-10-25T19:27:00.000-04:00

A different kind of post today… As regular readers know, last weekend Hope Unlimited for Children celebrated 20 years of work with street children in Brazil. My wife posted about the event on her blog, My Place to Yours, and she’s given me permission to share an excerpt here with you – so you can celebrate with us!

Hope's 20th Anniversary Celebration was held in the 8,000 square foot multi-level Redwood Hall at CuriOdyssey in San Mateo, California.

These photos are "broad stroke" overviews. I'll take you on a close-up tour in a minute ...

Upon entering the lowest level, guests saw Hope's mission statement:

Level One took the first part of the mission statement ...

and presented the hard-to-grasp facts ...

We then "set the stage" to show the realities in Brazil 20 years ago ... before Hope arrived.

And the verses that weighed heavy on the minds and hearts of people who cared enough to listen ...

Three men who decided to do something -- anything -- to help the street children of Brazil.

With God's help -- and the gifts of time, talent, and treasure from many people through the years -- many hundreds of young lives have been touched by Hope.

So why don't you follow me up to Level Two where we look at Hope's model of care ... and the second component of our mission statement.

There are four primary areas of emphasis for our residential students ...

Family

Many times, Hope is the first real family our kids have ever known. The first time they've sat down at a table for a meal. The first time someone has showed them how to play with a toy. They are so proud of the first possessions they've ever had of their own -- so their closets are amazingly neat and tidy. In fact, houseparents tell us that a messy closet is the first sign that a child is struggling ...

Play

Whether it's truly "play" like this sweet little one or sports, musical instruments, or field trips, making happy memories for the children is a major part of the Hope model.

In the words of Philip Smith, one of Hope's founders ...

Imagine growing up with no happy memories, nothing to fall back on during difficult times. That is the life of a street child. When we take our kids to camp, when they play video games at the mall, when they score a goal on the soccer field, they are creating memories to sustain them during the challenges that life will bring them.

Educational/Vocational

No matter what age a child is when they arrive at Hope, we do our best to help them get at least an 8th grade education -- higher than the national average. Our kids are modeled such a good work ethic that they are very "in demand" and guaranteed to have a job upon graduation.

Spiritual

Sometimes taking a child out of a bad situation, giving them a safe place to live and food to sustain them, allowing them to be a child -- often for the first time in their life -- and teaching them life skills is not enough. Sometimes it is only by the grace of God that they are able to move forward to a bright future.

If you're still with me, let's make our way to Level Three where we can truly see the results of Hope.

Graduates

who have embraced their futures ...

... many of them choosing to start families ... now with the tools to care for and nurture their own children, breaking the cycle of poverty, abuse, and neglect that they themselves once knew.

Many forming a Graduate Church in their community, reaching out to those around them to offer Hope.

Giving back to those who helped them ... so they can help the next generation.

A preschool we now run for 470 children ages 18 months - 5 years ... teaching their parents the importance of nurture and education ... attempting to keep these kids OFF of the streets.

And then there's the current initiative weighing heavy on the minds and hearts of Hope's board and staff ... How to best adapt our model of transformational care to working with children currently incarcerated in Brazil. 14,000 children ... many of them much like the ones we already serve but whose fight to survive on the streets was met by even graver consequences.

And so you can pray for wisdom for those making decisions. As you can imagine, there are some very difficult issues to address ... but we believe God will provide the answers as we step out in faith.

And here you have it ... in a nutshell.

Lives transformed ... my very favorite "before" and "after."

Not to us, O Lord, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness. (Psalm 115:1)

I'm glad you stopped by today to join in the celebration of 20 years of Hope! If you've been touched by any part of the ministry's story, I hope you'll help me spread the word. There are several of us always available to speak to churches, universities, civic groups -- any organization desiring to know more about street children, at-mortal-risk children, or sexually trafficked children. Your prayers, your interest, and your donations -- large and small -- make a huge difference! Perhaps you'll even put the children of Brazil on your family's Christmas list .

Twenty Years of HOPE

2011-10-17T18:28:00.000-04:00

Two decades ago, two men boarded a Pan Am flight for Brazil. They had heard of the plight of street children there; international attention had turned its focus on Brazil after reports that these children were being systematically murdered by police vigilante squads. Jack Smith, his son Philip, and David Swoap had felt God’s call to do something, anything, for these kids, and so Jack and Philip had cashed in their airline miles to make the trip south. Not much of a plan, but a heartfelt conviction that every Christian had an absolute obligation to care for those Jesus called “the least of these.”

This week Hope Unlimited marks twenty years of ministry in Brazil. From three men with a conviction and obedient hearts, Hope has grown into a ministry touching the lives of well over 1,000 at-mortal-risk children -- every day Graduates are building solid families and loving their neighbors -- every day. Through the years, thousands of children have called one of our campuses “home.” Naturally, we will mark this twenty year milestone with the requisite celebration and speeches, but much more important, we will thank God once again for His faithfulness in using mere men to bring Hope to his little ones. We will also renew our commitment to a divine commission to transform the lives of children in desperate need.

Jack, David and Philip may be different from most of us in talents, and the specific call they heard is certainly not one that every follower of Christ experiences. But, without any question, every one of us is called to minister to the widow, the orphan, the sick, the hungry, the prisoner.

Join us in answering that call.

And as you do, our Lord will say, “You have done it unto me.”

The Way Church Should Be (And Sometimes Is, But Too Often is Not)

2011-10-10T17:09:00.000-04:00

Our daughter and son-in-law began encouraging us to attend with them several months ago. They had been going for awhile and were experiencing a real difference in their lives; we saw it, too. But it is really different from what we are used to (not our kind of music!), so it took gentle persuasion from them for several months before finally convincing my wife to give it a try. A week later, at her encouragement, I showed up, too.

It did not take but a trip or two for both of us, as well as a friend she invited, to get really excited about what is going on there. It is so much what a church should be. When we walked through the door as strangers, virtually everyone there introduced themselves, welcomed us, and told us that being there would change our lives. The youngest we met was probably fourteen, the oldest mid-fifties. The two leaders pulled us aside for some one-on-one time, getting to know us, our strengths, areas where we struggle.

In the weeks since, there are so many things that impress. The acceptance of everyone, no matter where they are in their journey. The expectation (demand?) of growth. Accountability. The constant encouragement, everyone really interested in each other’s progress. True rejoicing when goals are reached, and gentle reproach when bad choices are made. A phone call or email after a missed session or two.

Real Community. Actually, life-changing community.

My kind of church. But as many of you have guessed by now, it is not a church. It’s a CrossFit training facility; a fitness center.

Now, I am very aware that church is so much more than a social or physical fitness organization. It is a community of believers, whose faith in Jesus Christ has transformed the lives of both the members individually, and the community collectively. So, let’s not confuse that issue here.

The point is, however, that we in church could learn a lot from this collection of really diverse individuals. Everything from the welcome when you walk in the door ... to genuine concern for where you are in your journey ... to compassion ... to accountability.

I am not suggesting that church should be a fitness center.

Or maybe I am. A place where there is expectation of growth, of change, of spiritual health.

Changing a culture

2011-10-03T19:13:00.000-04:00

I get very excited when I think about our numbers at Hope: over 200 children in full residential care, 450 teenagers in day vocational and academic programs, 470 children in our preschool -- and these numbers don’t even touch the families of our students or the graduates that we minister to every day. Feel-good numbers.

But then the other numbers hit me: millions of children still call the streets home, 400,000 girls forced into prostitution every year. And that’s just Brazil.

No matter how much money we raise, no matter how many sponsors we enlist, no matter many campuses we build, we don’t make a dent in those numbers. Of course, every life saved is important, and we are making an amazing difference for so many children. But many, sadly most, we cannot even touch.

So what do we do about the millions beyond our reach?

I think the answer starts with the recognition that it’s not our reach. No, we can’t get to all the kids, but we can engage a culture that may not see the problem like we do, that may have resources that we don’t have, that can take responsibility for all those kids. How can we do that?

We start by dealing with the mindset. When we came to Brazil two decades ago, virtually no one thought you could do anything for street kids. Street kids were seen as unsalvageable. Even worse, their plight did not seem to be a matter of concern. The words we heard were “nuisance,” “worthless,” “garbage.” More than anything else, people wanted them out of sight. So, slowly but consistently, we started showing Brazil a different face of street children. A marching band that performed in the Independence Day parade, graduates who became valued employees in local businesses, kids who appeared in public -- clean, articulate, and respectful. And, still slowly, the faceless children of the street gained faces and names. And Hope’s problem became a city’s problem.

Then we challenged Brazilians to do something about our -- and their -- problem. In the early years, 90% of our funding came from the U.S. Today, every U.S. dollar we send to Brazil is matched by two dollars in-country. Every new project in which we engage is totally funded in Brazil. Brazilians are not only claiming the problem as their own, they are doing something about it.

Sometimes it means that we have to play hardball. When the financial cost of our residential and day programs in Vitoria became unsustainable. We went directly to the Governor’s office. And we did not bluff. Our message was very clear: “We can’t continue to fund these programs. The children are your responsibility and we -- and your community -- expect you to take care of them.” And to their credit, they are now partnering with us.

The problem in Brazil is still enormous, and will be for many, many years to come. But we are no longer fighting it alone. The culture is changing. And this change truly brings Hope.

Are you serious?

2011-09-27T21:17:00.000-04:00

Last Sunday Philip and I both spoke at The Moody Church Fall Missions Conference. The church got its very start as a ministry to homeless children and orphans, and thankfully, they haven’t forgotten their roots. Dwight L. Moody was a traveling shoe salesman in the mid-19th century, but his passion was for the children living on the streets of Chicago. Just a few years after his conversion in 1855, he and two ministry partners turned an abandoned saloon into a Sunday school mission for children. The church quickly grew and, although it left the saloon behind many, many years ago, it carried its passion for children with it.

Over the last several years, we have gotten to know many of The Moody Church’s other ministry partners, and have seen the hand of God as He works through them to care for “ the least of these”. This year, I met Ralph Borde, founder of As Our Own. Just recently, I heard about As Our Own for the first time during a conversation with Jerry Edmonson, pastor of the Fellowship at Cinco Ranch. It is an extraordinary ministry, rescuing the children of prostitutes in India, children who inevitably would end up in the sex trades themselves. Ralph and his team take these children and truly care for them “as our own,” providing for them just as they would provide for their biological children. I love the way Ralph puts it: ‘This isn’t a program; it’s family.”

At the Sunday luncheon, we heard story after story of how God is using His faithful to care for His children. But I ended the weekend with a question: “Why isn’t every church this serious about doing what God has told us to do?” Or, perhaps more honestly: “Why isn’t every believer serious about obedience to Christ in this matter?”

Are you serious?

Dirty Faith

2011-09-19T22:32:00.000-04:00

You may not like what I have to say, but I have thought about it -- and I think I am right. I know I am Biblical. As I write this post, I am in Brazil, a pilgrimage made a few times a year. This trip includes my wife, Susan, and Jerry and Gail Edmonson. Jerry is lead pastor at The Fellowship At Cinco Ranch, a thriving church in the Houston metropolitan area.

We call it a vision trip. Part of my job as President of Hope Unlimited for Children is to engage people about the cause of at-mortal-risk children, to help them get a clearer vision of what they can do to change the world. Not that Jerry or Gail need a clearer picture; their church is one of the most “least of these”-focused churches I have encountered. They have a very clear picture of the need, but they’re here to see first-hand the work we are doing.

So why am I here? I am really here because I need to be reminded why I do this work, why I am an advocate, why I ask people to reach into their pocketbooks and give -- sometimes until it hurts -- to make life better for at-mortal-risk children. I cannot do what I do in isolation. I have come to understand that to truly love these kids requires relationships, and I am very concerned that this relationship aspect is what we have lost as a Church.

Far too often, we want to hire someone to do our Christianity for us; to pay the pastors and missionaries -- the “professional” Christians -- to do the work we are all called to do. Our financial gifts are the salve for our consciences that tell us we are really being faithful to our Lord’s commands. (Remember that “least of these “ passage?) We live in comfortable homes and rarely experience what might be called “dirty” Christianity.

May I suggest to you that is not the way God designed his work? I remember a line in one of my Christology texts from seminary. The author is long gone from my memory, but his words stay with me: “Wasn’t it just like God to become man?”

Yeah, it was.

Because even for God, coming face-to-face with the reality of our humanity, struggling alongside us, feeling the pain we feel, feeling need, was absolutely essential to the gift of Himself. How much more true must this be for us?

Obedience demands relationship with those we are called to serve. Isolation, even if we write big checks to support a ministry, cannot be an option for us. True Biblical Christianity means that we get down, in the dirt if necessary, that we experience life as they experience it; that we view the world from their perspective. The New Testament knows nothing of an arms-length Christianity.

Truth be known, my experience is that those who have met the child of the streets face-to-face, those who have hugged the orphan in the slum, those who have looked into hungry eyes become far more generous. I know it impacted me that way; tithing simply wasn’t enough any more.

So here is my challenge to you: don’t stop giving (please!), but get dirty. Touch the life of a child in your community. Travel with a mission group to minister in a slum. Open your home to someone without one. Practice Biblical Christianity.

"Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:37-40)

Into the Affairs of Men

2011-09-05T14:15:00.000-04:00

I begin this week’s post with a disclaimer, or perhaps, a confession. Although I have long had a passion for mission work and have participated in or led many mission trips in my life, as far back as I can remember, my least favorite Sunday of the year was the day the church hosted a visiting missionary. I’ve always found their presentations to be self-serving, and quite frankly, the stories they tell are usually a bit “over the top” and hard to believe. I’ve been that guy -- sitting at the back of the church trying not to roll my eyes as year after year, missionaries talked of God’s miraculous intervention in their work.

Then I became president of a missions organization.

I speak in churches on a regular basis, but still I feel myself cringe when I begin to relate another story; I’m remembering that guy on the back row. But I tell the stories because I have seen God absolutely injecting Himself into the affairs of Hope Unlimited for Children, and I have to give account. I want to verbally grab the human pew-warmer and say, “Look at this! This is important.”

So, with that disclaimer, I share with you a story of one of our Brazilian volunteers. But remember -- this is not an isolated incident; it is the kind of thing that happens far too often to be coincidence.

For the past five years all expenses of our auto mechanics and auto body repair courses have been funded by a particular corporation in Brazil. Three months ago, we were informed that they would soon be ceasing all financing for the courses. Last month we had no choice but to close our classes and accommodate our residential students elsewhere as best we could. The day students we sent home.

Seeing no other options, we did what we always do in a crisis: we called Carlos, a young business executive who was a founding volunteer member of the Hope Mountain team. He has stood by our side these past 12 years, always bringing donations, getting others involved, hiring Hope graduates, and opening doors for us at all levels.

Last Friday, we received this email from him. (I have left out the company and personal names for their privacy.)

Normally my e-mails are very concise, but this story is worth telling. I am in Brasilia today. I flew here this morning, and something curious happened.

Last week I scheduled a meeting with the President of the corporation that supports our automotive courses to discuss the situation at Hope Mountain.  Unfortunately I was late because of a traffic accident, and met only with the Superintendent, who was not able to resolve our situation.

This morning I boarded the flight to Brasilia and got stuck in a middle seat. (I always ask for an aisle seat but the flight was full.) After I sat down, a lady came to occupy the window seat on my right. When I stood to let her in, I noticed she was wearing a button identifying her as a corporate staff member from the company.  I started thinking about how to broach the subject of Hope Mountain.

A few minutes later a gentleman came and occupied the aisle seat to my left. It was the President of the company.

The conclusion of the story: I had a 1 hour 30 minute meeting without interruptions, and was able to tell them all about Hope Mountain ... and ... he promised to maintain our auto body courses.

And the lady with him was the Executive Assistant to the President. We have already communicated by e-mail, and she will accompany the process.

It was still early in the morning and already my whole day was made.

Sincerely, Carlos

Do I still find stories like this hard to believe? Not anymore!

Prayers and Pray-ers

2011-08-30T18:43:00.000-04:00

Reading 1 John again this evening... “But if anyone obeys his word, God’s love is complete in him. This is how we know we are in him: whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did.”

“Must walk as Jesus did.” That’s a tough one; one I’m not sure I have completely worked out. But I do know that it starts with relationships -- both with God and with others. And I think John’s point is that we cannot claim that our walk with God is good if all the other parts of our lives don’t reflect that relationship.

On a regular basis, we encourage the kids at the City of Youth to write out their prayers and prayer concerns. Every time I read any of their notes to God, I am overwhelmed at the transformation He has brought in such young lives. I want to share some of them with you. As you read, hear the voices of former street children as they open themselves to God. Notice especially their hearts for their families -- the same families that often abused, exploited, and abandoned them:

“God, bless my family, I please ask you to bring my mommy to You and also my daddy, I love you.” Michelle

“Father, please take care of me, take care of my family outside, especially my Grandma, I love you so much Jesus because you loved me first.” Renato

“God, thank you for everything you have done in my life, please bless the life of Karolaine, my best friend and all of her family.” Arlinda

“Please God, bless my family, I don’t know where they are and I don’t know why they left me, but please forgive them and make them happy.” Taylan

“Hi God, how are you? I am fine thank you. Well I ask you to pray for me and for my family. I know I was a bad girl. I already asked for your forgiveness but I need my mom to have forgiveness as well, but she hurt me so much. I can ask for forgiveness for her. Please make me strong enough to tell her how I feel. Bye, God.” Dayane

“Hi God, I know I hated City of Youth when I came, I am sorry. I was a bad boy and I cursed too. Now I like it here. Now I have found a special friend. YOU. Thank you for being my best friend.” Carlos

Lord, please help me to grasp what these children understand -- that walking as Jesus did means not just loving those who love me, and not even just returning good for evil, but genuinely, deeply loving all those You bring into my life.

School time

2011-08-22T18:47:00.000-04:00

It’s that time of year. I saw this year’s first flashing school zone light last Friday. For those of us living in the relative affluence of the US, the end of summer and the start of school is axiomatic; going back to school is what children do every fall. We understand that education is one of the foundation stones of society, so we place great importance on the rituals that signal the start of the school year -- shopping for school supplies, back-to school parties, and the first visit to see the new classroom and meet the new teacher.

Last summer in a Campinas favela, I asked the universal question of a boy and his younger sister: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Daniel, perhaps 11, answered immediately, “Advogado” -- an attorney. The little girl, whose name I don’t remember, shyly looked down, scuffed the dirt path with the toe of her shoe and then answered, “Professora” -- a teacher. But then I asked the telling question: “Do you like school?” The boy answered, “I’ve never been to school, but Momma says she thinks I can go next year.”

The dreams of these children are as vivid to them as the dreams of any child in affluent America. But for these two, the promise of the future will never be more than a dream, destined to be discarded by the time they reach adolescence ... trampled by the reality of survival in the slums.

For 123 million children worldwide, there will be no right of passage to a new grade. In fact, there will be no school at all, because these children will never receive even a rudimentary education. And, as functional illiterates, they will never realize the opportunities that education provides; they will never break the multi-generational cycle of poverty and despair.

It is not just a matter of providing schools, although that is critically important. Of the 123 million children, almost 50 million of them actually have access to at least elementary education. Tragically, as was the case with Daniel and his sister, these millions of children live in situations where education is not valued. In reality, the task of changing lives for the children is dependent upon helping parents grasp the importance of school.

In a slum just a few miles from Daniel’s home, Hope Unlimited for Children has opened a preschool for 530 children. There the parents see the immediate impact of having their children in school; happier, healthier (thanks to provided nutritional meals and medical care), better-behaved kids. As the kids go to school each day, both children and parents learn the habit of education. When time for elementary school rolls around, the parents will understand their responsibility: make the effort; invest in their children; get them to the classroom.

Even so, there’s no guarantee. Providing an education does not automatically mean that a child will break the cycle. But many of them will. And one thing is certain, unless we open the door to education for impoverished children, the door to the future will remain closed.

Toward What End?

2011-08-15T19:05:00.000-04:00

I will never forget the night we met Fran. It was our first night at Hope, and only her second or third. My wife and I had traveled to Brazil to see the program there firsthand. A pizza outing for some of the girls at Hope Ranch let us meet a few of the kids without being overwhelmed. While most of the girls actively engaged us—they were very accustomed to English-only Americans on mission trips—Fran shyly caught our eyes and smiled, head down. It was obvious she was new and didn’t yet know the ropes.

The next day we asked Adrianna, the counselor handling Fran’s case, about her. Four years later, I still catch my breath when I remember sitting in our hotel room as Adrianna told Fran’s story. Fran did not know her father. With her mother in a hospice dying of AIDS, eleven-year-old Fran became the responsibility of her 16-year-old sister. The first night in her new home, Fran was raped by her sister’s gang. Then, the gang began to traffic her, selling her nightly for group sex. Her sister. Eleven-years-old. After several months of this horrific abuse, a neighbor filed a report, and Fran was brought to Hope.

I said to Adrianna, “In the United States, there is no chance that this little girl would make it. She would probably be institutionalized, scarred beyond the hope of recovery.” Fire blazes in Adrianna eyes as she hears that someone would give up on a child. “But with God . . .” she says.

Move the clock ahead almost two years. I am standing at the back of a chapel service at the City of Youth. Pastor William invites those who want to commit their lives to Christ to stand. Several teenagers in the room rise to their feet; friends move to stand beside them in support. I see a young lady stand a few rows in front of me, and one her friends immediately moves beside with an embrace. I slip over to stand beside her, and as I do, she turns around. It’s Fran, and the once shy, head-down smile is replaced by one of the most joyful expressions I have ever seen.

A few weeks later, I am asked a question by an investor in our program. “Are you trying to prepare these kids for the workplace or for Sunday school? “

Both.

They are not mutually exclusive. In fact, both are absolutely necessary.

There really isn’t one for us without the other. Unless we give the kids at Hope a solid academic foundation and a marketable vocation, they will not have a future. At the same time, the scars that so many of the kids bear can only be healed when their souls are made whole, when they experience the gift of our Father’s love.

The little girl who I was so quick to pronounce “beyond saving” is thriving today. Fran is a good student and is preparing for a career in food services. And her smile lets us know that her past truly is in the past, because her future has been transformed.

Seeing the one

2011-08-08T17:43:00.000-04:00

The stock market is down 10%. S & P downgrades our credit rating. In 24 months, the US-Brazil exchange rate drops from 2.35 to 1.55, eroding our purchase power there by almost 40%. Nobody will give in this climate.

And then this morning, I saw the really frightening figure: it is estimated that the global economic collapse has pushed orphan numbers to 163,000,000.

163 million children without homes or family.

Time to throw in the towel? Time to surrender these children to a destiny of despair and death? Can’t we admit when we have lost?

No. We cannot, and we will not. Let me give you two compelling reasons why we stay in the fight, even when the numbers look hopeless. First, the critical number is not 163,000,000, it’s 1. It is one child that does not know he or she is part of a worldwide phenomena. It is one child that doesn’t follow the global markets. It is one child who is hungry, frightened, hopeless. It is one child for whom you can change reality. You may not be able to move the Dow, change a culture that views children as disposable, or move the worldwide orphan numbers, but you can decide today to change the life of one child.

But even more important, there is One who sees the big picture, and He loves every one of these children intensely. And - important words here - He has called us to join with Him in changing their lives. We hear it over and over again in Scripture, “Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress.” It seems that we spend far too much of our time worrying about the things that are God’s purview - the big picture stuff - and not nearly enough time being faithful in what He has given us.

So in the midst of all this bad news, my admonition to you is this: be faithful today. Go to Hope’s website and do a Five for Ten. Sponsor a child. Plan an Orphan’s Day at your church. Contact an orphan care organization and ask how you can help. Adopt. Foster.

For one child, today.

Seeing as God Sees

2011-08-01T18:05:00.000-04:00

It’s Friday evening; I am sitting on the front porch, watching the thunderstorms begin to roll in, and, quite honestly, feeling a bit overwhelmed. There is a payroll to make, other bills to pay, income is down for the month of July, political maneuvering in Brazil threatens our program, and things are just not rolling as smoothly as they should. Things look pretty dark right now, both literally and figuratively.

God, don’t you understand? We are the good guys here. How about a little help?

Then I read I John 1:5. “God is light; in Him there is no darkness at all.” Could walking in the light mean that we see things as they really are, rather than just how they appear to be on the surface? I know that we are being obedient; I know that God wants this ministry to thrive, so why is it that I see only obstacles?

Then Sunday morning rolls around. As I sit in worship, we read the long passage of the Israelites’ flight from Egypt. God had shown His strong hand through a series of miracles that led to the captives being set free, but Pharaoh went back on his word, and sent his armies after them.

It seems to me that once God has spoken, an issue ought to be resolved, and the obstacles and challenges behind us. But that certainly is not the way the story of the Israelites worked out. God spoke and acted, but that did not mean that no obstacles would remain, nor that those who had made promises would not turn on their word, nor that God's people would not have to struggle, nor even that there would be no need for additional miracles of God. What those initial miracles in Egypt did mean was that God was involved, and would see His plan through to the end.

Last April we at Hope Unlimited for Children felt we had no choice but to close one of our facilities in Brazil. But God strikingly inserted Himself into our affairs, and miraculously made provision. That does not mean it has been easy sailing since. It does, however, mean that God will continue to faithfully provide, and walking in the light lets us see not the troubled surface, but the depths of His provision.

Good Soil

2011-07-18T19:28:00.000-04:00

I’ve been reading Francis Chan’s Crazy Love the last few days. In Chapter Four, “Profile of the Lukewarm,” he issues this warning: “Do not assume you are the good soil."

But of course we are the good soil. We’re in church virtually every Sunday, tithe (at least on the net), stay married, and have polite kids. Isn’t that the definition of good soil?

Maybe not. Maybe that is the definition of the place where the seeds were planted, but the fledging plant was so overwhelmed by the thorns of the world’s cares that it suffocated. Perhaps we are the exact profile of the cultural Christian, rather than the radicals Jesus called us to be.

Frederic Huntington said, “It is not scientific doubt, not atheism, not pantheism, not agnosticism that in our day and in this land is likely to quench the light of the gospel. It is proud, sensuous, selfish, luxurious, church-going, hollow-hearted prosperity.”

Two years ago, at the beginning of this economic downturn, I had an extended conversation with a wealthy businessman about the financial prospects for our work with street kids. He warned me: “When money gets tight, people will stop giving. They will not change their lifestyles, or even give up the extras. They will quit giving.” He was right.

It is in difficult times like these, when we have to make a choice between comfort and giving, between having all we want and the needs of others, that we show whether -- or not -- the gospel has truly taken root in good soil.

But I don’t want to love them...

2011-07-11T18:21:00.000-04:00

For the great majority of the world, orphaned does not mean parentless. In fact, just the opposite is true: only about 20% of orphans are biological orphans; the vast majority of children we call orphans have parents. But they have been abandoned, have run away to escape abuse, or have been removed from their homes because of abuse, exploitation, or neglect.

I don’t like these parents—and that is really not strong enough to express how I feel. The one critical task they have been given in life—TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILD—they have failed. And, more often than not, it is not just that they did not do well by their kids, they usually actively chose to hurt them. We all have a problem when we see this.

So I am justified in my anger toward them. But scripture says that even as I act to protect the innocent, I am still to love those who abused and exploited them.

I don’t think so.

But scripture is very clear on the matter. And, for the sake of the children, we must not only love these parents, we must be agents of redemption in their lives.

For the sake of the children.

At our weekly chapel service at the City of Youth, when we come to the part of the service where there might typically be an offertory, the children are invited to bring their “offerings” to the front of the auditorium and place them in a large bowl. But these offerings are not monetary; they are hand-written prayers. Some kids have hastily scribbled a line or two while others have poured out their hearts in long letters to God. Senior staff then takes each of these offerings and pray over them.

One request dominates these written prayers—a plea for family members. The children understand that they have been given a great gift—the life transforming love and grace of God—and they want their families to experience what they have come to know. The same families that abandoned, abused, or exploited them.

And what we have found is that forgiving, praying for, and loving their offending parents is a huge step of healing for our kids. Time and time again we have seen forgiveness, families restored, and children made whole when they reached the point when they could love those who had evilly used them.

And so we continue to learn the hard lesson: truly loving the children means we love their parents, too.

A Lesson from Africa

2011-07-04T19:57:00.002-04:00

Gary Schneider was just an American visitor in the Zambian church service. But he was struck by what he saw and heard there. The African pastor passionately pleaded with his church to take seriously the biblical call to care for orphans. The local community had seen more than its share of orphans, products of the AIDS epidemic and poverty. Gary watched as members of the church came forward to give of their meager resources—money, food, even the shoes off their feet.

Soon the vision of that one church spread across Zambia, and, in 2003, Gary joined with Every Orphan’s Hope to bring Orphan Sunday to the United States. In the years since, thousands of churches have used Orphan Sunday as a call to action for ministry to orphans.

This year’s Orphan Sunday falls on November 6, 2011, and churches throughout America—and around the world—will join hands and give voice to the cry of the orphan. Perhaps at no point are we more attuned to the Gospel than when we become one in service to the orphaned children of our world. Surely, if an impoverished African church can give sacrificially to care for the orphans in their midst, we can join hands with them and give from our abundance. Will you and your church join with us as we observe this day? You can learn more about Orphan Sunday at www.orphansunday.org.

Let’s make a difference together.

But What Happens When the Model Doesn’t Work?

2011-06-27T19:58:00.000-04:00

This is a problem and it’s getting worse.

Over the last two decades, the model for care of orphans has greatly changed. Decades ago, long-term, large homes were the prevalent model for orphan care. Big dormitories, or at least large group homes, dominated the landscape of care facilities.

Without question—and especially in the emerging world—this model had its problems. Sometimes the problems were fairly minor—kids needed more interaction with society outside the grounds of the orphanage. At other times they were quite severe—children essentially warehoused to get them off the streets and out of sight. Think Oliver Twist repeated around the world. Abuse of children in these facilities was very common. Something clearly needed to be done.

The response of the international orphan-care community was to move away from long-term, residential care to foster care systems that push adoption. This move is so pronounced that, in many countries, long-term residential care facilities have been made illegal, with requirements that children be placed in mixed-gender, mixed-aged foster care for no longer than two years.

Last summer I was involved in a search to find an organization to partner in a residential care facility in Brazil. Unfortunately, the foster care/adoption model is so prevalent that every organization I talked to (including some of the largest international caregivers for orphans in the world) all had the same response, “We no longer do long-term care.” Not some, not most, every single organization.

Which then brings the question, “What happens when the child is not adoptable, is not a candidate for foster care?” Millions of children worldwide cannot be adopted, and for one reason or another, would not make it in foster care. A child that is fourteen years old, that has spent seven years on the streets of a Sao Paulo, that has suffered abuse at the hands of virtually everyone he has encountered will never thrive in foster care. A fifteen-year-old girl who was first prostituted when she was nine will fit in with a mixed-gender foster family? I don’t think so. A twelve-year-old orphan that has spent two years in a children’s prison is not adoptable.

Adolescents like these need specialized care, the kind that can only be provided by a team of caregivers in a long-term residential facility. They need the context of family, but it needs to be in a larger less-intimate setting that is prepared to deal with problems common to older orphans like reactive attachment disorder. And a two year limit on residential care will get these kids nowhere but back to the streets.

Should foster care and adoption be the primary model? Absolutely. But there will always be a place for long-term residential care. Residential programs must be closely regulated and monitored to assure standards of care, but they must not become relics of the past. Too many young lives depend on them.

Noblesse Oblige

2011-06-20T18:53:00.000-04:00

A good friend has a framed, embroidered motto on his desk, “noblesse oblige” (the obligation of the nobility). I sometimes give him a pretty hard time about it because it can symbolize all that I think is wrong about the church’s response to issues of poverty and need. It’s like an uncomfortable line that was popular in the privileged class of the South in my childhood, “There but for the grace of God go I”.

Condescension is so imbedded in both phrases that they are the very opposite of Christian charity (using that word in the truest sense of 1 Cor. 13). If you scratch most of us deeply enough you will probably find a core belief that we somehow deserve our stations in life. Doing for others is often less an act of grace than it is self-confirmation.

At the same time, however, if we can divorce these phrases from our self-righteousness and condescension, they speak to the very heart of the gospel. There is an obligation that comes with having been materially blessed that grows from a recognition that the blessing is unmerited. Really understanding just how blessed we are is a powerful motivation for blessing others.

That’s where love comes into play, and we discover the difference between compassion and pity.

There are 2.2 billion children in the world; 1 billion of them live in abject poverty, and 22,000 of those children die every day. 1 million children are imprisoned. Over 200 million children are biological or social orphans.

If we read these numbers through the prism of pity, our first reaction is relief that no one we know is counted among the tragic numbers. Then we may give a few dollars or maybe even make a mission trip to try to make it nominally better for the generic “less privileged.” But the problem is that these numbers represent real kids. Every one of the 22,000 children who will die of poverty today feels the pangs of hunger as surely as our child or grandchild, or younger brother or sister would. Their facelessness does not make them any less human, or their pain or their desire to live less. But pity rarely sees the face beyond the number.

Compassion takes a different track. Compassion recognizes that we are all in this together, that it is usually little more than an accident of birth that places us among the world’s most wealthy. Compassion grows out of God-given and sanctioned love, and demands a lifestyle of engagement, a conscious choice about consumption and generosity, a refusal to see those in need as “other.” It means moving beyond our places of comfort, and encountering a world that is dirty, unpleasant and painful.

In fact, it means living as Christ lived.

No place for any child

2011-06-13T20:01:00.000-04:00

A children’s prison? Surely what I meant to say was correctional institution, or even reform school, but not prison. We all know children do not belong in prison. Prisons are for adults: hardened criminals, repeat offenders, those a danger to the public.

But children’s prisons—which are often more violent and oppressive than their adult counterparts—are a growing worldwide reality.

It is estimated that there are some 1 million children in prisons worldwide. Some time ago, a group of Americans visited the children’s prison in Cariacica, Espirito Santo, Brazil—the very prison that led to this April’s formal condemnation of the nation of Brazil by the Organization of American States’ Human Rights Courts. Burt McDowell, a doctor from California, wrote this about his experience there:

I had been warned that going into the children's prison in Vitoria would be difficult. We visited at night. I tried to prepare myself for the sights, smells, and sounds of the place, but I was still shocked. The physical and spiritual darkness was oppressive. A barren, crumbling cement building housed the children in windowless cells with no running water, bathing facilities, heat, or fresh air. Toilets were holes in the cement floor. Some cells held up to five kids behind heavy steel doors. No medical or dental care was provided. The darkness was punctuated by a single, naked light bulb hanging in about half of the cells - the only light we saw.

In this gloom, it was hard to believe that the dark forms that approached the steel bars were human. Yet as we talked and prayed with the kids, most seemed desperate to begin a new life, to be given another chance. They were longing for a touch, a handshake, or any encouragement. Yet they were utterly hopeless that their lives could ever change. As hard as going in was, walking out, leaving them in darkness, was even harder. I did not sleep well that night, haunted by the images of caged children.

But what Dr. McDowell saw there is a way of life for a million children worldwide. Try a search for “children’s prison” and look at the horror stories that show up. And this is not just a problem that occurs in some war-ravaged, ethnic cleansing battlefield country. It’s happening all over the world. Children are sometimes locked up for no greater offence than living on the streets—being an orphan, it seems, makes a child a criminal.

“I was sick and in prison, and you came to visit me.”

Really? Did we?

Forgiveness

2011-06-06T16:16:00.000-04:00

“But first be reconciled to each other”

Natali had a lesson to learn. As a young graduate of Hope, she knew that the choices she would make in the first months on her own would profoundly shape her life. Her witness led her boyfriend to Christ, and he quickly became a leader at the graduate church. As they moved toward marriage, she encouraged him to be reconciled with his family. He was, and then he asked the tough question: “What about you and your mother?”

A bit of background. By the time she was ten, Natali’s mother was prostituting her to the men of the slum. At eleven she had a child. Her mother didn’t want the baby around—bad for business—so Natali found an older woman in the slum to care for the infant. Natali’s situation was reported to the authorities, who placed her at Hope’s Girls’ Ranch. On long weekends, Hope’s social workers would take her to see her daughter, and after she graduated and was in a stable living situation, Evelyn, now nine years old, came to live with her.

Forgive? Be reconciled? I don’t think so, not after that. Not with a mother who had sold her into prostitution. But, Marcelo insisted. “You taught me the importance of forgiveness. It’s important for you, too.” Even in his newfound faith, Marcelo understood that anger and bitterness are barriers to the activity of God in our lives.

It didn’t happen immediately, but it happened. And the healing that it brought to Natali’s life is a story we have heard told time and time again, as kids from absolutely terrible backgrounds not only forgive and are reconciled, but so often become the agents of God’s redemption for the very parents who exploited them.

And so often, in the faith and lives of Hope’s children, we find lessons for our own lives. If Natali has found reconciliation, and daily prays that her mother will come to experience the grace that has transformed her own life, what could there ever be in my life that keeps me from forgiving, from being an agent of grace?

When Love is Not Enough

2011-05-25T01:46:00.001-04:00

We know our hearts are in the right place. We really, really, want to make life better for these kids. So, why can’t it be easy?

The first year of Hope, two decades ago, every single boy ran away. We gave them a safe place to live, good – and regular – food, all the things that make life normal. But it wasn’t enough; they all ran away, rejecting the life we had built for them.

They needed not more, but something very different. What transformation demanded was that they had structure, boundaries, discipline. Our breakthrough came when a retired policeman/pastor came to lead our campus. He intuitively understood that those former street kids needed their lives directed by someone who was strong, who was willing to be the father they had never had. Under his leadership, things turned around for the Hope program, and we began to see transformation take hold in young lives.

A related story. An acquaintance has been very involved in rescuing children from being sold into child slavery. He was part of a group that actually purchased children who were on the slavery market. Then he discovered that some studies indicated that the kind of work in which he was involved actually helped to create that market. When they rescued children by purchasing them, the market read that as demand, and more children entered the market. So, do you walk away from that child crying to be rescued because purchasing her pushes at least one more child into slavery? Tough call.

My point here? Wanting to do good is not enough. Good intentions don’t bring transformation. Sometimes changing the lives of at-mortal-risk children means making hard choices. Sometimes it means carefully looking at the organizations you choose to support. It takes more than good intentions. It means doing the hard work to make the real difference.

2011-05-23T18:13:00.001-04:00

Today I welcome Philip Smith to the least of these. Philip is co-founder and CEO of Hope Unlimited for Children. From earlier blogs, you may be aware that Hope recently agreed to explore the possibility of joining the state of Espirito Santo in looking for ways to transform their children’s prisons. As with any new endeavor, we are always aware of the possibility of “mission creep,” -- and taking our focus away from the street children we serve. In an effort to prevent that from happening, Philip visited one of these prisons to ask the question, “Are these our children?” This is what he found – in his own words:

Last week I finally had an opportunity to visit a facility in the youth prison system where all the alleged abuses occurred. This facility has been closed to us for the past eight years.

The warden proudly showed me all the training facilities, but did not want to show me inside the cells, inventing one excuse or another. I did not care about the facilities; I wanted to look in the eyes of the children and test our calling in this new direction. The warden finally relented when I sighed under my breath about the Governor’s great disappointment when he heard that I had wasted my trip and we had to postpone our talks.

Going through several iron doors, we finally arrived at a concrete courtyard containing three concrete barracks. Each of the three barracks, or blocks, consisted of a mess hall connected to a short hallway with about 10 cells going off of each side. Thousands of cockroaches, dead and live, littered the courtyard. The blackened walls were filthy, testimonies to the mattress burnings of past rebellions. Iron plates with bolts the size of my fist covered holes where the boys had tried to dig out. Rotting food was strewn everywhere. When I walked up to each block, some of the boys ambled towards the front room to talk to me through the bars. None wore shirts, adding to the sub-human atmosphere. Sporting amateur tattoos, many had pierced eyebrows and lips. Given this culture, I thought, it was no wonder there were so many rebellions.

I have honestly never seen such hopelessness in the eyes of young people. I picked out a few of the toughest looking ones and spoke to them. They all said they had no idea when they would get out; they had no plans for the future, they had nothing to live for. Once we got past the posturing, they were not belligerent, just resigned; and I could tell that underneath they were just kids like ours. After speaking with Davi, Marcos, Joziel, and Patrick, I promised to pray for each one, and tell my friends to pray for them. I could tell it meant a lot to them.

I later visited the nearby girls’ block, and had similar impressions. There, I promised to pray for Ludimela, Natali, Emily, Camila, and Bianca. Camila, about 14, asked me to also pray for her daughter, Riana, age 2, promising to pray for my Isabella in turn. Bianca gave me her wristband in exchange for a promise to not forget all of them. I keep it in my laptop case.

I went there to confirm a calling, or at least test my passion for this cause. It was confirmed. My heart broke for these young people and their hopelessness, and I sensed their hungriness. They were at the bottom of the barrel, with nowhere else to turn. These are precisely the young people Hope was founded to serve; the young people who were at the core of my father Jack Smith’s heart when he said “yes” to God and committed the remaining years of his life to the cause. It’s possible that there may be reasons to not embrace this new direction, including operational concerns or financing. But as far as mission is concerned, I am now convinced that serving these kids is right on.

2011-05-16T18:47:00.000-04:00

I am pleased to welcome Jeremy Stanley to The Least of These. Jeremy is a storyteller at heart. From the Hollywood Hills to a leper colony in Kenya, everyone has a story to tell. Having spent many years in the film & television industry in Los Angeles, Jeremy’s focus and passion is now exposing injustice and sharing stories of hope and redemption around the world.

It’s easy to find despair in the darkness. It envelops you. It overwhelms you. You hear stories of children being murdered in the streets. Of little girls losing their innocence and prostituting themselves at desperately young ages. It is easy to lose hope and let the darkness blind you.

There have been two successive verses of Scripture that have provided an incredible amount of clarity and joy for me this year.

“In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” - John 1:4-5

This scripture has been a revelation to me this year. I look at the work that Hope Unlimited is doing, how they are loving the least of these, how they are providing a future and a hope for these kids that have been forgotten, that are destitute, that are enveloped by the darkness.

His life, Jesus’ life, was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness HAS NOT overcome it. The staff of Hope Unlimited are carrying the light of Jesus into the darkness. They are shining His light into the alleys, into the slums, into the deep shadows of despair, of feelings of worthlessness, even of impending death.

If you want the good news of the Gospels, this is good news. While at times all can seem lost, the darkness has not and will not overcome the light. I hear the stories of these children and I burst with hope. Can you see it? Can you see the light eradicating the darkness? Can you feel the despair flee? The despair crawl away? Because I can. I see it in the eyes and the smiles of the children of Hope Unlimited. To spend a day with them is to see the light of Christ bursting forth.

There is a great hope in Brazil. The light is bursting forth and the darkness is fleeing. Because Light breathes Hope.

Materialism

2011-05-10T17:54:00.000-04:00

Have you ever thought about the “why” of materialism?

Sunday night I left Tennessee for Brazil; left my very comfortable home for a 16-hour, three-leg flight. I was met at the small Vitoria airport by one of our houseparents. We traveled through the relative affluence of the ocean-front residential section of town then began to wind our way up broken streets to Hope Mountain. We passed squalor; we came within feet of the brutal children’s prison at Cariacica; we saw filthy children sitting on street curbs.

Discomfort. Back in the beautiful Springtime of East Tennessee, it is very easy to forget about these children -- even when there are children not too different from these within miles of my home. But my isolation, surrounded by things I love, makes it so easy to forget about the needs in my own community, to say nothing of the desperate needs of children around the world.

An emerging world church leader was once asked what he saw as the greatest challenge for the American church. His one-word answer? “Affluence.” Why do we as Christians pursue wealth as we do? I would like to believe that it is so we can engage our world and make it better for those most in need. Unfortunately, I believe the truth is usually just the opposite: it is so we can isolate ourselves from the pain and need that surrounds us.

In so doing, however, we also isolate ourselves from the God who provides. If we have everything we need, we don’t need Him. And consequently, we don’t need to care for those who have nothing.

Perhaps the courage to live a truly Christ-like life is the courage to refuse isolation from those who are hurting. The ones Christ called “the least of these.”

How courageous are you?

Was He one of us?

2011-05-02T14:46:00.000-04:00

My friend grabbed me immediately after the service. “I finally understand that verse.” A question in my eyes. “The ‘I had no place to lay my head’ verse. Tonight, for the first time, I understand it.”

We were at Saturday night worship the night before Palm Sunday at The Net Fellowship, a church formed by former street children who are graduates of Hope Unlimited’s residential program. Joining the graduates, their families, and members of the community who have become part of The Net were about two hundred children who presently live at the two Hope campuses in Campinas, Brazil.

And we worshipped with those children and young adults, strains of “Hosanna, you are my King,” woven throughout the service as language barriers melted away. We worshipped.

My friend continued, “I learn experientially, and here tonight I finally understood those words of Jesus. He was saying that these are His people. These are the ones He identifies with. These kids didn’t have a home, a place to sleep. They are the ones like Him.”

“These are His people.”

If you are like me, you are less concerned with being conformed to the image of God than you are about recasting Jesus in your own image. I want Jesus to be a middle-class family man -- and usually share my political affiliation. Facts are, He wasn’t, and He didn’t.

These are His people.

Are they ours?

Are they yours?

But God wasn't finished yet...

2011-04-25T15:56:00.000-04:00

I wrote last week of God’s miraculous provision in preserving Hope Mountain, but that was only the beginning of what God had in store that day. There was a third point to the Vice-Governor’s proposal to us.

But first, a bit of background. Hope Mountain (HM), to no small degree, came into existence 11 years ago because our Board was so moved by the horrific conditions they saw when they visited the children’s prison across the valley from HM. Sixteen children crammed into small cells built of block and iron bars; a hole in the floor for a toilet; a weekly “bath” that consists of guards hosing children down from the catwalk above the cells; children murdered by other children inside the walls. Evil.

There had to be a way for the power of Love to oppose the evil in that place.

Conditions there are so bad, in fact, that the very morning we were to announce the closing of HM, the Organization of American States Inter-American Commission of Human Rights issued a formal judgment of condemnation against Brazil for conditions at the Adolescent Internment Unit of Cariacica—the very prison located across the valley from HM.

(This photo shows the prison as you look from the doors of the HM vocational school.)

So, the Vice-Governor’s third point:

3. Hope Unlimited will prepare for the Vice Governor a proposal to develop a fully state funded correctional facility for children using the transformational model in place at Hope Mountain. In his words, to develop something that would be “a model for all of Brazil and South America.” We were already aware of the OAS condemnation of Brazil, and had heard something like this might be coming, so it did not catch us totally by surprise. In fact, we had already been in contact with Chuck Colson and Ron Nikkel of Prison Fellowship International about a partnership in such a project. Accepting this proposal does not commit us to running a children’s correctional facility, but rather to explore with the state how our model might be used to transform the lives of children who come into the state’s penal system.

Where does all this leave us? We walk into a meeting “knowing” that we will be saying goodbye to staff and trying to find a way to place our kids, and we walked out with not only provision for those kids, but also the possibility of touching the lives of thousands of other children in the correctional system.

What a God we serve!

But God had something else in mind...

2011-04-18T16:53:00.000-04:00

A few months ago, the Board of Directors of Hope Unlimited for Children reluctantly voted to close our Hope Mountain campus. It was not without pain to make the decision; the need is desperate there, and hearts, efforts, and money had been poured into the transformation of this former prison facility into a place where the lives of boys could be transformed. But, a decade into the project, only marginal local support had joined the U.S. investment, and the cost of running the project was threatening to strangle the Hope organization.

The Board made the decision provisionally: if Hope leadership could secure a partner—perhaps a U.S. church or state funding in Brazil—who would totally carry the cost of the program, we would continue our work in Vitoria. A deadline of Friday, April 15, was set as the absolute last moment before we would have to terminate staff, end the program, and begin trying to place the 53 boys who called Hope Mountain home.

For three months we search diligently for a partner, but find no one willing to take on the project. We know the only chance we have is to acquire state funding, and there is precious little hope of that. Board, staff, and friends pray and fast, pleading our case before God, but it looks like the facility is going to close. The Brazilian team meets with staff, talks to the boys, and begins to prepare for a shutdown. The boys greet the news with gallows humor, joking about going to live with Aunt Sidewalk and Uncle Overpass.

Then a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. As word of our plans get out in Vitoria, public outcry leads to meetings with state officials, and their promises to do “something.” Philip and the Brazilian team respond that we do not have time to wait for “something,” and that only guaranteed funding by April 15 will keep us open. A meeting is set with the Vice Governor for April 15 at 4:00 pm.

Then the light goes out. On Thursday, the Vice Governor’s office calls while we are at dinner at the Girls’ Ranch in Campinas. The meeting is canceled.

Prayer, then light again. Four American visitors join Philip and me in impassioned prayer as we drive from the Girls’ Ranch back to our hotel. Immediately after the final “Amen,” Philip’s cell phone rings. The Vice Governor has reconsidered and will meet with us as originally scheduled the following afternoon.

Friday, 4:00 rolls around. Philip, our American visitors, two Brazilian friends and I arrive for the meeting with the Vice Governor. We wait an hour. The Vice Governor and his staff enter the room. It is obvious to us that the Vice Governor is a man of good will, and wants a solution. He makes a few preliminary statements, and Philip responds with an impassioned plea that the children be protected even if we are no longer at Hope Mountain. The Vice Governor makes a proposal. The state, through a private company, will provide the full operating costs of Hope Mountain for the next four months. During those months, Hope and the state will work out an agreement where the state and businesses will provide 2/3 of the operating costs and Hope will provide 1/3.

It is about ten minutes after 5:00 on Friday, April 15th.

Hope Mountain is not closing. We celebrate.

But God had even more in mind . . .

That part of the story will come next week.

Maddie

2011-04-12T18:45:00.000-04:00

Today I welcome Maddie to the blog. Last summer sixteen-year-old Maddie and her family visited Hope Unlimited’s City of Youth in Brazil. She recently spoke at a chapel service at her school about her experiences in Brazil. These words are excerpted from her presentation.

Imagine a girl who lives in a comfortable suburban house surrounded by a loving family. She attends Stanford games and vacations in Newport Beach with her family. She attends private school.

Imagine another girl who lives in a home of cardboard and plywood, without plumbing or electricity. She walks barefoot on a dirty, trash-filled street. Her mom suffers from mental illness and has to leave the house and take medication to avoid hurting her children. The father is a drug addict. On the way home from school, the girl sells herself on the street to earn money for her family.

These two girls met this past summer. If you have not already guessed, I am the first girl.

Last summer I traveled to Brazil to visit a Christian non-profit organization, Hope Unlimited, which rescues children who have been sexually exploited and are living on the streets. When I returned to the U.S., I struggled to understand what I had seen and experienced. It was hard for me to find the words to describe it.

My whole life I have lived in tight-knit environments where I have experienced love and expected it from those around me. In Brazil, the family system works differently in some segments of society. In the poorer classes, many families are so desperate as a result of poverty and addictions that they make money off their children by selling them into prostitution or using them to sell drugs. The children are not cherished members of the family, but products used to support the family.

Hope Unlimited works with social services in Brazil to rescue teenagers living in these situations of imminent risk. Hope provides homes for these children with loving house parents on spacious ranch facilities at three locations in Brazil.

While at Hope, I was invited to go with a group of boys celebrating their birthdays. A twelve-year-old boy with whom I had played arcade games offered me a piece of gum he had bought with part of his birthday shopping money. While his gesture may seem weirdly inconsequential as we sit here today, for some reason it touched me. He had a degree of gentleness and humble generosity that I was not expecting. I later found out that, before his time at Hope, he had wandered the streets and had been arrested for robbing people at gunpoint. The story seemed inconceivable.

Hearing the stories of the children at Hope made me uncomfortable. And that is exactly why it was so important to listen. After struggling with their stories and pasts, I was amazed at how they had learned to move forward towards a new future.

The love I witnessed in Brazil was unconditional. At Hope, that kind of love heals, and makes people feel that their past does not tarnish who they are in the present.

A Heart Made New

2011-04-04T18:29:00.000-04:00

When Carlos first arrived at the City of Youth two years ago, he was just like so many of the kids who have come to call the City of Youth their home. He had virtually no contact with his mother and became a child of the streets when he fled a physically abusive father. But we soon realized there was something different about Carlos. He was weak, often short of breath, and simply did not have the robust appearance that a young teenage boy should have. A pediatrician in Campinas scheduled Carlos for a battery of cardiac exams. Before he made it to the tests, however, Carlos passed out on campus and was rushed to a hospital. He was diagnosed with a congenital malformation in a heart valve and immediately transferred to Sao Paulo for surgery. Today, Carlos continues to recover from the surgery, but his heart may never be 100%.

But in another way, Carlos’s heart is just fine. While his physical improvement will take some time, his spiritual transformation has been remarkable. In the weeks following his surgery, Carlos found a close friend in Marcio, another teenage boy at the City of Youth. Marcio is the friend Carlos never had before, someone with whom he can share his hopes, his dreams, and his fears. Carlos and Marcio also have a shared love for music, and together they wrote and performed this song in a chapel service:

Magnificent, my Lord

Jesus Christ, Savior

Companion, Faithful God

Your love carries me to Heaven

I have thought and I have decided

I will accept you in my life

I have decided and I have declared

I want you to be my King

Now I know, and I will tell You:

I will love You until death

It was your love that conquered me

And that is why I am what I am

These words come from a child of the street. This is the transformation that makes the work worthwhile. So even as we pray that Carlos’s physical heart will continue to heal, we rejoice that this spiritual heart has been made new.

Separating the sheep from the goats (a parable along the way to revolting numbers)

2011-03-28T15:35:00.000-04:00

Here’s a bit of Bible trivia for you: There is only one person in the parables of Jesus who is given a name. Do you know who it is? Think about for a minute.

Lazarus

Do you know the story of Lazarus and the rich man? Lazarus is a poor beggar who lies at the gate of the rich man’s home, hoping to grab a few “crumbs that fall from the rich man’s table.” Interestingly enough, it is not the rich man who has a name, but the poor, crippled beggar. Even more interesting, the name Lazarus means “the one who God helps.”

It seems like Jesus got the names mixed up in the story. At least at first glance, the rich man is the one that God helps, and Lazarus is the one God forgot. But then the tables get turned. Lazarus dies and “the angels carried him to Abraham’s side.” The rich man dies and winds up “in Hell, where he was in torment.”

I guess Lazarus was the one who God helped.

Here is a question though: how does Jesus know that Hell is where the rich man is going to end up? Is it just because he is rich? I certainly hope not, because if that’s the case, we’re all in trouble. If you have a computer on which to read this blog, you are almost certainly among the wealthiest 2% of all the people who have ever lived in the world. If wealth condemns to Hell, that’s where we are all headed.

Instead, I think the answer to the question comes back to the “least of these” passage that is at the top of this blog. The part of that passage not quoted goes like this: “Depart from me you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. . . I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for me.”

Tough words.

Do we take Jesus seriously today? When the least of these are hoping to pick up the crumbs that fall from the Church’s table, I wonder what kind of gospel we are preaching.

Are you feeling a little uncomfortable? I hope so.

More revolting numbers...

2011-03-21T13:54:00.000-04:00

This isn’t about our capability to change the world; it’s about our will to do so.

I’ve written on a number of these blogs about the plight of at-mortal-risk children. They do not choose to live as they do; all choices have been taken from them by poverty, by culture, by environment.

The challenge of changing the world is not about our capability: according to the Borgen Project, spending just $19 billion between now and 2015 could essentially eliminate global starvation and malnutrition; $12 billion per year over that same time period could provide education for every child on earth, and an additional $15 billion each year could provide universal access to clean water and sanitation. If Christians chose to give 10% of their income and churches chose to devote 60% of that increased giving to international needs, there would be $98.4 billion available for changing the context internationally and still an additional $32.8 billion for domestic missions.

The question is, do we have the will—or even the interest—to change the context? When they were asked "What would you do with an unexpected financial windfall?", 31% of Protestant pastors said they would build, expand or update their church buildings and facilities. Only 7% said they would give more to foreign missions and evangelism.

I am not naive. I understand that throwing money at problems doesn’t always solve them. At the same time, excusing our greed by saying “money won’t fix it” is a canard. And for the US church to sit on its hands when there is so much need is an absolute abdication of our moral obligation.

Are you ready to be a revolutionary?

A Case for Revolt

2011-03-14T15:25:00.000-04:00

2.5%. That’s how much American evangelicals give to Christian causes. Not 15%, not even the biblically-mandated 10%. Just 2.5%.

But here’s the really disappointing number: 98% of that tiny 2.5% primarily benefits other Christians. This basically means that of every $100 of income earned by American evangelicals, about 5 cents goes to touch the lives of those that Jesus called “the least of these.” A nickel.

This is not about hard economic times preventing us from giving. In fact, the opposite is true: since the Great Depression, income has risen on a fairly consistent curve, with only a few blips along the way. At the same time, however, giving as a function of income has steadily decreased. Simply put, the more we have the more we keep.

We need a revolution here. We need to take the needs of the world around us seriously. The Church needs to be reminded that spending 85% of its resources on salaries, facilities, and other internal needs of the congregation makes a mockery of the Great Commission.

It starts with you. Will you become a revolutionary?

Check back next week for more fuel for this fire.

What is Trafficking?

2011-03-07T14:56:00.000-05:00

In January you may have read Ileana’s story, a story told far too often not only in Brazil, but in so many places where young girls are seen as commodities rather than as creations in the image of God. In many countries, what happened to Ileana is not called prostitution. Because Ileana was sold in her own home by her own mother, the law identifies this as abuse, but not prostitution; a ridiculous distinction that does not recognize the extent of the devastation Ileana suffered.

Not only is what happened to Ileana prostitution, it’s sex trafficking. As defined in The United States’ Trafficking Victims Protection Act of 2000, sex trafficking occurs any time “a commercial sex act is induced by force, fraud or coercion, or in which the person induced to perform such an act has not attained 18 years of age.”

What happened to Ileana is horrifying. But I have been appalled by a more subtle, far more pervasive, and ultimately more pernicious form of prostitution.

A few years ago, I met Lucia, a sweet and very spirited nine-year-old who lived in a favela with her mother, two younger sisters, and younger brother. Her mother obviously loves her children greatly, but she is unemployable due to mental instability, and can provide very little for them.

Two years ago, I found that Lucia was being prostituted. I couldn’t believe it. Surely her mother would not force her into this. Could her mother’s occasional boyfriend be responsible? Had one of the brothel owners in the favela kidnapped her?

In fact, it was none of these. What happened to Lucia is deplorably common. Lucia is desperately poor. Like any little girl, she wants better things in life: nicer clothes, better food, perhaps some special attention and to be told that she is pretty. Lucia is growing up in a cultural setting that places no stigma on prostitution, so she chose to trade the only thing she has: herself. In exchange for a new blouse or a good meal, she entered a lifestyle that will be ultimately and devastatingly destructive.

But even in her new independence, Lucia will find pain. She has committed an act of self-betrayal. She will discover that the readily-available drugs of the slum assuage the pain, and soon she’ll sink deeper into a cycle of despair. Without intervention, we know this will happen because we’ve seen it happen too many times.

Millions of little girls begin a lifestyle of prostitution without even knowing what they are doing. How do you stop a child from prostituting herself when her community tells her this is a perfectly acceptable means of providing for herself and her family? When she enjoys more approval and appreciation from her abusers than she has ever received at home? When selling herself is just a part of growing up?

This is difficult, very difficult. We can do something about Lucia—and we have, and will continue to do so for her and her siblings—but what do we do about the hundreds of thousands of little girls like her around our world?

Feliz Aniversário!

2011-03-01T16:10:00.000-05:00

The post this week comes from Karen Rodriguez, a member of Princeton Alliance Church in Plainsboro, NJ. A group from Princeton has been in Brazil this month ministering to our kids and refurbishing the sanctuary.

How do you get to spend your birthday? Do you get to go out with your family to a nice restaurant? Do they shower you with love, affection, and gifts in many forms? Do you get to pick any cake you want and have people sing to you? Does your dad sing the birthday song to you a week before your birthday and continue to sing it even after your birthday like my dad does? Do you treat yourself to a day at the spa and squeeze in a little "Me time"? Maybe you anxiously await the many surprises your loved ones spring on you throughout the day.

Some of the children that come to Hope Unlimited don't even know when their birthday is and therefore have never celebrated it. Imagine being 12 years old and never being recognized for your accomplishments by a family who loves you. The kids here at Hope experience their "first" birthday when they arrive. This organization does a wonderful thing every month. They coordinate a birthday outing for any kids who have celebrated a birthday in the past month. They take the kids for a night out where they get to do things like eat out at a Burger king or McDonalds and see a movie, perhaps play at the arcade but definitely get a birthday present. These are 6-16 year olds who experience these things for the first time when they arrive at Hope Unlimited.

The boys’ outing was last Monday night. A few team members got to experience it and see the excitement in the boys' eyes as they were given "credit cards" for the arcade, as they enjoyed a special birthday dessert at the mall and then ate dinner at Burger King where they were given a Whopper, fries and a milkshake. Such simple pleasures that we take for granted sent these boys to the moon. Their smiles were as big and wide as the ocean. What was even more touching were the hugs and thanks given at the end of the night. They were just so grateful for the night out and the willingness of people to love them and treat them special.

The girls' outing was Thursday. When we got to the mall to meet up with them, we started the evening by taking them shopping in Walmart to spend 8 reais which equates to about $5. They shopped for candy and tasty treats to enjoy for themselves. I can't imagine a parent in the United States saying to a 15 year old girl, "Here's $5. Happy Birthday!!" What was heart-wrenching for us was helping the girls calculate the total so they can stay within budget. At the end of the night, if they went over, they would have to choose what to keep and what to put back. Every one of us wanted to tell them to take as much as they want without worrying about the budget, especially knowing that this was the first time shopping for many of them. But, we knew that would not help them in their spiritual and emotional development.

After Walmart we went to Burger King where each girl got a Whopper, fries and a shake, just like the boys. They then went to the arcade with a few tokens and lastly, went to a movie. The love they poured on us was much more than what they received in gifts. All they wanted to do was give us hugs and kisses and spend time with us. They didn't just run off to do their own things with the allotment they received, but they wanted to be near the adults who just loved them on their birthday. Some even shared what little they purchased with us. It was quite touching.

The next time you get to celebrate a birthday and are about to blow out the candles on your cake, make a wish for the children at Hope Unlimited. They could use an extra measure of grace.

Oh Lord, hear my prayer

2011-02-22T17:20:00.000-05:00

At the City of Youth, our flagship campus in Brazil, we have a mid-week chapel service for the kids. During the service we have an offertory. Our kids, of course, have no money to give, but come forward and place written prayers and prayer requests in a large bowl at the front of the auditorium. Many of the prayers are simple, a line or two composed at the last minute, but nonetheless heartfelt, “Lord, thank you for giving me this place to live.” Others are longer, maybe running a page or two as a child pours out her heart to God, perhaps pleading for God to intervene in the life of a family member.

Last year I had the opportunity to join the pastors in reading and praying over the written words of the children. We surrendered more than our share of tears, seeing their hearts as they placed their lives before God.

After ten minutes or so of reading and praying, Pastor Derli reached into the bowl and pulled out a scrap of paper, read the words, and handed it to me grinning. Then he watched for my reaction. With my very rudimentary Portuguese, it took me a minute or two to put it together, then the grin spread across my face too: “God, I want a dog to adopt and a fifty-two inch plasma television.”

I love this story because this is not the prayer request of a child fearing for his safety or comfort or survival. This is not the request of a child who feels unloved or haunted by his past. These are the words of a little boy who has everything he needs except a dog and a plasma TV.

When the children who come to us get to just be children, that’s a transformation! That is a real victory!

A New Beginning

2011-02-14T15:18:00.000-05:00

But Hope Unlimited is about transformation. Our story is of a tragic beginning absolutely overwhelmed by a triumphant end.

We are heartbroken by the lives these girls were forced to lead before they came to Hope. But we rejoice to see their innocence restored, to know that our God is a God of new beginnings.

Help these girls celebrate their new beginning! Send your valentines to Hope Unlimited for Children, PO Box 2707, Los Alamitos, CA 90720

It's up to you

2011-02-07T15:11:00.000-05:00

Sarah is in the back of the car sobbing. “Just give me a minute, and then I can talk.” This was her first face-to-face encounter with child poverty. A few minutes before, she had been sitting on a ragged bed as a little girl and a little boy climbed over her. The little girl was beautiful by any standards, even in her filth, but the three-year-old little boy, naked except for a tattered tee shirt, already had the vacant stare so common in the favela. We had walked from the girl’s sagging scrap-sheet metal home to the boy’s shack a few yards behind. A man sat rocking in a wooden chair, obviously stoned; the mother was nowhere in sight.

But now we are back in the car. Sarah knows the odds are against these kids. She knows they will probably run away from home to live on the streets, become involved with gangs, and beg or steal to buy food and drugs. She knows the little girl will probably sell her body and the little boy will probably end up in jail, and they’ll both be lucky to survive 5 years on the streets. Getting control of the tears: “I don’t get this. Isn’t Brazil one of the wealthiest countries in the world?”

"Yes"

“Isn’t there enough money for them to take care of their own? Shouldn’t this be their problem and not ours?”

Philip turns to look at her, a bit of a hard edge to his response, “You’re absolutely right; there’s enough money here to fix the problem. There are incredibly wealthy people in this city who ought to be right here, right now, taking care of these kids.” He pauses, then says more gently, “Why don’t you get out of the car, go back inside and tell Franciella and Lucas that we’re not going to do anything for them because it’s not our problem.”

Here’s the point: There are children all over the world whose lives will not change if you do not change them. Kids like Franciella and Lucas won’t make it unless we get serious about faithfulness to our commission as Christians. This is not clean faith; this is not easy church. It’s dirty; it’s unpleasant; it’s difficult, but it is absolutely necessary.

Fortunately, there are Christians everywhere saying “This is my problem.” A church in Chicago started a home for the children of prostitutes in New Delhi, a young couple in Texas adopted an orphaned Ugandan baby, a medical student in Indiana spent his Christmas in a clinic in Haiti, a sorority at Duke University hosted a charity ball to benefit street kids. And Franciella’s family was given a new home in a safer place by a Midwestern businessman.

Extreme poverty and child neglect and abuse in Brazil is my problem. What’s yours?

The Ripple Effect

2011-02-01T15:29:00.000-05:00

Jack and Evangel Smith are two people who changed the world. In 1962, they were Presbyterian missionaries teaching at a mission school in Ethiopia when they started a school for homeless kids in their back yard. This was a mission on top of their mission, but they were so overwhelmed by the poverty they saw, they felt they could do no less. Seeing the desperation around them, they told one little orphan boy, “Tomorrow we will start a school for street children. We want you to come, and bring your friends. But,” they warned him, “don’t bring any thieves.” The next morning they opened the gates to find him standing there alone; “Where are your friends?” they asked. “You told me not to bring any thieves. All my friends are thieves!” The Smiths changed the criteria: Bring your friends even if they are thieves. The next morning they opened the gates hoping to see the 20 or so boys for whom they had room -- and discovered over 200 orphans standing in front of their home, ready to start class.

Word spread about the vocational program, and one day a call came from the front gate. Evangel found a 12-year-old boy standing there, dressed in rags, no shoes. He had heard of the program, and had walked 20 miles to ask for the chance to learn a vocation. He had no means of paying even the few cents the Smiths charged to purchase food for the children, but something in his eyes, his manner, called to Evangel, and she welcomed the little boy, Jerman, into the school. Jerman proved to be an extraordinary student, as well as a great help to the Smiths, and he very quickly became part of the family.

Four decades later, Jerman directs the CHAMPS program at Presbyterian College in Clinton, SC. He works with at-risk teens to help them secure an academic foundation that will prepare them for college - and the kids who complete the program receive scholarships. To date, 200 CHAMPS scholars have graduated from high school and started their college careers.

But Jerman has not stopped there. Because of the impact the Smiths had on his life, Jerman led his church, Eastminster Presbyterian of Columbia, SC to partner with the Smiths’ son, Philip, and the organization he leads, Hope Unlimited for Children, committing $300,000 to build a residential campus for orphaned girls in Brazil. Today that campus is home to 80 girls, many coming to Hope directly from the unforgiving streets of Brazil. Who knows which lives one of those girls will someday touch?

All this because one woman saw beyond the statistics, and looked with love into the eyes of a homeless boy. Love, generosity, and self sacrifice change the world every day, and everyone can do it. What will you do to change the world?

lleana's Story

2011-01-24T17:07:00.003-05:00

The kids at Hope Unlimited come from different backgrounds. Before they are sent to us, they might endure neglect, abandonment, abuse, exploitation, or even torture. Our staff and social workers labor tirelessly to help our students leave the darkness of their pasts behind them, but each child will forever bear emotional and often physical scars.

We are their safe haven, and in order to protect their privacy, I will always change the names of the students whose stories I tell, and I will never tell anyone’s story without permission. Last year a visitor from the U.S. asked one of our older students, Ileana, to tell a bit of her life story. Ileana responded that she would rather write it down. These are her words translated into English.

When I was 8, my stepfather went to prison. My mother became a drug addict. We did not have much money, so she told me to go out and make some. I started collecting tin cans and other trash in the streets to recycle, but my mother always complained that I was not bringing home enough money.

One day the owner of the grocery store on the corner told me he thought I was beautiful. I told my mother, who became very quiet. That night she left the house very late, and I went to sleep before she returned. When she arrived back home, she woke me up and told me to go into the little plywood storage shed in our back yard. I did not understand, but when I arrived, the grocery store owner was waiting for me, smiling and drunk. My mother asked me to lie down on the bed, and then she left. The grocery store owner tied my hands and feet to the old bunk bed that was there. I started to cry and asked him what he wanted . . . He started to hit me, saying that I was useless and that he, Sr. Joao, was the owner of a grocery store, and then he began to abuse me.

The next day I was not allowed to leave the storage shed. I was locked up there for about three months, being abused 2 or 3 times a week. The first time they let me out, I was terrified of everything.

My mother stopped taking drugs, and she asked for my forgiveness. But my happiness did not last long. In less than two weeks, the nightmares began again. This time I don’t know how long I lived like this, being locked up for weeks at a time in the shed.

When I was 13, I stole some money my mother had hidden away that she had made from my prostitution. I ran away to my grandmother’s house in São Paulo, where I had traveled a few times with my mother. I lived with my grandmother for one year, and then my mother came to visit, begging me to come back with her saying that this time it would be better.

It was better. She was only smoking marijuana, and I did not have to go out with anybody. But one night I slept at my older sister’s house, and when I came back home, my mother was completely high and started to beat me, and I was raped by her boyfriend.

I ran away again to live with my grandmother. While I was there, I went to Campinas to spend a few days with my cousin. One night I walked with her to the supermarket to buy some ingredients to make a cake. She told me to sit on a bench in a park down the street and wait for her. It was about 10:00. Suddenly two men came by in a car, pulled me inside, and stopped under a train overpass. They pulled me out of the car and tried to take my clothes off. I was able to get away and ran down the street to a taxi stand where they called the police.

From there, the police took me to the government emergency shelter. I could not go back to my cousin’s house because she might have been involved in what had happened. They decided I should not go back to my mother’s house either.

Having nowhere to send me, they brought me to Hope Unlimited. Today I believe in transformation. And I am sure that my mother can change. I have not seen her since I ran away, but I have forgiven her and ask God every day for her salvation.

Today I have found Jesus, and am very happy. I have the chance to study and hope to achieve my dream of becoming a nurse, so I can come back to help the children here at this place, where I learned to walk with my head held high.

2011-01-17T20:16:00.000-05:00

Do we take Jesus’ words seriously? The numbers don’t look like it: 200 million children worldwide are either biological or social orphans; 24,000 children die of hunger or hunger-related disease every day, two million girls and boys are forced into the sex trade every year. In Brazil, the country where I work with mortally-at-risk children, up to three million children have been abandoned to the streets; once on the streets they’re lucky to live five years.

What is our answer to their cries for help?

In this blog, I’ll introduce you to the struggle of some of the world’s most desperate children. I’ve seen these kids on the streets; I have been in the shacks that they call home. They’ve told me their stories, and I want you to hear their voices.

So, I’d like to tell you some of their stories and also let them speak for themselves. Jeremy Stanley’s photography will give you a glimpse into the world as they experience it. You will also hear from some of those who are on the front lines of ministering to these kids, both professionals and those who volunteer to take a week, a month, or a year serving around the world.

These kids have captured my heart, so I know their stories will inspire you.