His picket fence

His picket fence? Has anybody ever wondered about the funny name for this blog?

It started with two soul sister best friends (Yes, there are actually two people who write on this blog. One of us just tends to write more nowadays than the other). We were about to graduate college and were dealing with the normal questions society throws at people of that age: 

“What do you want to do with your life?” 

“Do you have a job?” 

“Where are you going to live?” 

“Wait…you’re going to Africa? ….. Well, do you have a job lined up for when you get back? How are you ever going to get married? So are you just going to beg people for money and live off of that for the rest of your life?” 

We had a desire not to settle. It was a desire not to go except for where our sweet Jesus was whispering, “follow me.” It was not a desire to bash the American dream of a perfect home, a white picket fence, two and a half kids, and a dog - because all of that is fine, if that is where Jesus is calling you. And it was not a desire to get rid of everything we own and move into a mud hut and never eat cheeseburgers again. 

It was a desire to build our homes in the Kingdom - to be inside His picket fence, His perfect plan, His heart desires, and to embrace that whole heartedly. 

It was a desire to be poor. The poor are desperate.  

I’ve learned a lot from my poor friends. Lessons that I could write one thousand blogs about, but there’s one that is really burning in my mind right now.  

I’ve learned that their desperation leads to life, and comfortability equals death. If they are not desperate to survive, they will not. 

The poor are desperate. 

I recently spent some time in the United States and had several conversations that went something like this:

“I love your bag!” - Mallory 

“Thank you so much! I got it…..(the sinking realization on somebody’s face that I live in Africa cuts them off, and their excitement dwindles and a nonchalant, somber face ensues)…..on sale. I would have never spent that much money on it, but I really needed a new bag….” -Friend

…and then they would follow the fifteen new reasons why they needed a new bag. I had people apologizing to me about how much money they were spending on meals or clothes or activities. 

My brothers and sisters….if only you knew… 

I make coffee every morning in a french press.

I work every day on a brand-spanking new laptop.

And I spend too much time on Facebook. 

I have the utmost delight in living where I live. 

I do not embrace poverty. I do not reject riches. I think it’s beautiful and from the Lord that many believers are seeking how it is right for them to live in a country that is so wealthy. However, I think we need to surrender our actions. 

We can not be desperate to have riches, and we can not be desperate to be poor. We can not make a ‘correct’ pattern for life and expect that to shape our hearts and minds. 

We have to be desperate for Jesus. A desperation for Jesus will keep us seeking our daily bread. Daily bread that feeds our souls and ‘makes our cup runneth over’. A desperation that forces us to embody humility, and humility is irresistible to the Holy Spirit. Desperation beckons the Holy Spirit into our hearts and then our minds, our actions, and our lives will reflect a desperation for Jesus. Our actions will be molded out of an overflow of our hearts.

A desperation for Jesus may have me living in a home with a bunch of former hood-rats that bring me more joy than a world of accessibility ever could. A desperation for Jesus may have you living in a house much bigger than you could have ever imagined with a job that pays ten times more than what you ever needed. 

It should look different on each person, or else we would all be doing the exact same thing. It’s our hearts behind these actions that should look the same. 

Desperate. Poor in worldly dreams, worldly emotions, and worldly sacrifices. Poor because there is nothing on this earth that we truly have taken hold of, apart from Jesus. 

Being poor is a posture of the heart that is completely dependent and yielded to Jesus. That’s who He welcomes inside His fence. Those are the children who are building in the Kingdom.

“Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” - Matthew 5 

Belly Shirts

The taste of chocolate is still lingering in my mouth as I write this.

About fifteen minutes ago, I pulled into our “driveway,” ignored most of the children calling my name, flung open my bedroom door, and announced to my roommate that I was going to eat my chocolate bar and then get on the floor and cry.

I ate the chocolate and lay down.

Those tears that had been swimming in my eyes for the past 2 hours waiting for the dam to open so they can explode down my face were suddenly refusing to come.

I sat there for a bit. I rolled over. I put my arms across my face. I stared at the ceiling. However, it wasn’t until I started dwelling on every negative emotion I had in me and why I had it, until that soft Spirit voice spoke to me.

“Mallory, you can sit here and you can over-think about every reason why you are upset, angry, mad, and frustrated until you reach the point where you will cry…..or you can praise Me – it’s a much more peaceful option.”

Most of you who read this blog know me. If you don’t – I’m a tall lady. (6 feet and ½ inch)  My parents had a particular challenge with me when I was growing up. Pretty much every major season change, none of Mallory’s clothes fit her anymore.

At the beginning of summer you could find me putting on dresses that now were as short as shirts, and if belly shirts had been a trend for 8 year olds I would have been “in.” Fall brought jeans that brought confused looks from people as they tried to decipher whether I was wearing long pants or capris. Winter also came with mittens that only covered half of my hand, and the fluffy, warm winter coat we had bought last year was the first to hit the goodwill pile. Jean shorts that never would have passed the school fingertip length for dress code always plagued my Springs, as the warm weather called for us to lose some layers.

From the time I can remember until that glorious year in high school when I stopped growing, every season that I remember found me putting 7/8 of my clothes in the Goodwill bag. That 1/8 that remained was always bound to be something horrific that obviously was not socially acceptable to wear anymore. Yet until I could replenish my closet (i.e. until my parents helped me replenish my closet), I was stuck in horribly ugly, definitely not matching, well-worn clothes, that were pushing the line to be put in the Goodwill pile anyway but I couldn’t walk around naked and my mom made me keep them to cover my butt.

It’s hard to have a child that grows all the time. I could mention the feet that were 5 sizes too big for the body or that awkward class picture where you always knew where your spot was, but I think I will save those for another blog.

Today as I refused to cry in front of the kids in the car, I had all kinds of funny thoughts.

“I’m tired of living this way!!!!!!!” was the dominant one as I stormed out of the ATM empty-handed for the third day in a row.

“Living which way? By faith?”

Gut check.

That apparently didn’t do the trick, because I still marinated in the rage, frustration, and doubt all the way home. It wasn’t until I was staring at a really ugly ceiling, willing my tear ducts to produce something to run down my face, probably making faces similar to that of somebody who is constipated, that I relented to this mighty call to Praise Him.

Mr. Fear peaced out real quick.

Followed by Mr. Rage and Mr. Worry.

Doors Ministries. I don’t have words. I am honored to be a part of it. I love being surrounded by this heavy weight of God’s glory every day. But we are a growing baby.  Each season finds us scantily clothed, looking to our Daddy for new provision. Sometimes it’s hard to continuously be growing, because we have to be continuously shopping for “new clothes.” For me, I have to fight to keep my praise during all this growth. As a ministry, we have to choose to praise, rather than worry, doubt, or live in fear. If I had succumbed to those negative emotions, I would still be in a pit of tears, snot, and chocolate slobber right now, instead of humbly asking for your help.

Doors has many needs right now – staring us blatantly in the face.

1. We are in need of classroom sponsors for our school. Our classroom sponsorships keep kids in a Godly classroom environment, while also providing them with 2 meals a day, and helping pay our teacher’s salaries. Our school is the main place where we struggle financially each month – it’s hard to keep food in front of the ninety children and employ our ten teachers without the help of classroom sponsorships. If you would like more information or have any questions, doorssponsorship@gmail.com is the place for you to go.

2. Because we lack classroom sponsorships, we are currently doing a fundraiser to help meet the gaps of need for the school. We are trying to raise $4500 to cover the first month of school expenses. There’s many different ways and places you can contribute to through the link below.

http://www.gofundme.com/8wuark

3. Five of the boys in our home are lacking sponsors. This is a big number for us, because it’s almost half of our kids! We’ve been so thankful and blessed by our current sponsors and donations that keep our home running. doorssponsorship@gmail.com is where you should inquire if you would like more information on building a relationship with a former street child and helping them grow in the knowledge and wisdom of what a life walking with Christ is!

We need givers. We need fighters. We need praise warriors. We don’t need pity. There may be a very tiny amount in our bank account right now – but there’s a big praise in our hearts.

We live by faith.

Pity lives by chocolate bars and tears.

He is more than words can ever say – let’s REJOICE today!

What about this one?

See that green gate straight ahead.

That’s ours.

(Yeah, the one that when you look closely, it kind of looks like a murder scene, with the smeared red paint all over it. For once - it wasn’t the children painting on something they shouldn’t – it was the landlord! And I’m not really sure what he was planning for that one, but I’m hoping the reason we have doodles on our gate is simply because the paint ran out).

Behind that gate is a large compound, twenty beds, piles of stinky shoes, a charcoal stove that almost always has a pot of beans boiling on it, and 13 boys who proudly put on Doors t-shirts every day as they go to school, eat 3 meals a day, play football, dance their hearts out, worship endlessly, and sleep each night under a roof.

Now I’d like you to direct your eyes to that big, rusty, red box on the right side of the picture. In Uganda, we call this a container. Containers usually make a home in Uganda after they’ve brought some sort of imported goods or shipments of donations. This one lives at the end of our driveway. This particular container is empty, but here you can find people living in containers, having workshops in containers, or even making restaurants out of these containers (they get creative!).

This rusty red container usually serves no great purpose. But in the past few months, it has become significant in my eyes. It started when I was on my way home one night and it was around 11pm. Most of Ggaba was already asleep. As the car’s lights hit the container, I saw the feet underneath the container.

Three pairs of dirty, beat up, cut, calloused, and fat feet.

Street kids.

They’re feet are easy to distinguish them by – not many people walk the amount that these kids do, in the places they do, without shoes.

The three children had wedged themselves between the container and the ground and were fast asleep.

I froze.

Mallory wants to pick them up, take them to that gate that’s 10 yards away, clean em up, feed them, and let them sleep.

Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. And I had to drive by reluctantly. I began asking around, very discreetly too. I wasn’t ready to find every boy in Ggaba dressed up like a street kid sleeping outside of our gate the next night.

They are young. The oldest one is 8. They’ve never been to the city, which is good, because that means they are sober. And it’s now been a month or two since I’ve started asking my questions, trying to get the truth of their stories.

I watch the man who sells scrap at the end of our street, who occasionally lets them sleep among the piles of scrap metal.

I hear from the bar tender at the corner a daily update of where they slept the night before, as she lets them come in in the morning and pick up the bottles to go and sell.

There’s a woman who sells vegetables outside of our house. She’s at work at 7am with her baby, leaving every night at 11pm. She struggles. Today I watched her split what little food she and her son had, with Joab, one of the boys. 

I’m watching them, and they are all looking at me.

And I do nothing.

Because behind that gate- there are no empty stomachs, and people are busting out of our home. There is no empty bed, and there are thirteen boys who used to sleep on the sidewalks of Kampala in rice sacks.

It’s kind of ironic. Nobody has told them that the boys that pass them and bring them food everyday used to be in their situation.

Because they’ve seen me do nothing, and they don’t want to get their hopes up.

I’ve searched my mind. I’ve prayed. But I’m not sure that I’m ready to turn our living room into another bedroom.

I feel like I should be able to do something, and as I watch my neighbors give what little they have to the boys, I feel them all looking at me. “Don’t you have a home that helps these children?” It’s the unspoken question.

I don’t know what to do. And I think that’s ok.

This is when people start saying, “You can’t help every child” as they try to comfort me. 

But I'm a big believer that ministry is simply loving the people that God puts right in front of you. 

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

 “The King will reply, ‘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

"The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these." -Mark 12:31

I don't know what God wants us to do. It seems pretty simple in the passages above. But it would be crazy right?! 

What about the finances? The beds? The space? The food? The 29 children who could camp outside of our gate the next night? 

But I think God is asking, "What about this one?" 

And so I'm asking back, "What about this one?" 

“I don’t want to be _________________ any longer.”

“I don’t want to be _________________ any longer.” 

Fill in the blank. Sinful. Angry. Single. Selfish. Hurt. Alone. Dry. Sick. Busy. Here.  

There’s a word that we can all put in that blank. Something that we all tell God that we don’t want to be... 

And it’s usually followed by a sentence that is cried out in frustration or desperation, that goes something like this....

“God, I want to be ________________!”  

Content. Joyful. In community. There. Married. On the mountaintop. With my friends. 

I wonder what would happen if we all stopped asking God when we are going to get what we want, and we are we going to stop being what we don’t want to be? 

And instead we ask him to show us what we have now that is of value? 

When we speak sentence #1, it brings dissatisfaction. 
When we speak sentence #2, it defers our hope. (Proverbs 13:12) 
When we ask Him to show us what we have now that is of value - it can only create praise and humble us to worship. 

Worship is where we render our hearts to be transformed into His likeness. It doesn’t come from dissatisfaction, or hoping that when I get this or reach this place then things will be better. 

We get too caught up in trying to fight who we are not made to be. We spend too many hours praying not to be something or somewhere. 

Any time Jesus healed sickness in the Bible, He did not look at the sick person and say “Oh, you are very sick.” He looked at them and said, “You are healed!” 

When Jesus tells the disciples to feed the five thousand, He doesn’t tell the disciples “Not enough food!” He says “We already have what we need!” 

He didn’t look at the repentant thief hanging on the cross next to Him and say, “Now you! You were particularly sinful.” He says “You will surely be with me in paradise!” 

He speaks who He created us to be, who He died for us to be -- NOT what we can see that we are in that moment. 

Because we live by faith and not by sight. 

Proverbs 23:7 As a man thinketh in his heart, so he will be... 

I want to think about myself the way that Jesus thinks about me. I want to speak about myself the way that Jesus speaks about me. I want to believe about myself, what Jesus believes about me. That’s true humility. Seeing yourself how Jesus sees you. 

I respect our older boys in our home beyond what words can ever describe. They are young men that walk with such faith, and are pioneering what the Doors home stands for. They’re like that first child in the family that the parents are still learning when that child falls you don’t need to always rush to their side.  The parents are still learning that when that teenager asks to go to the library to study but has on her party clothes - you should probably say no. They are the guinea pigs. 

We all know that. They know that. They rejoice through it, and most days do it gladly.

When I see one of them struggling with something, or hear a conversation going on about girls (that can sometimes happen when you have large amounts of teenage boys under one roof) I can begin to think, “What if they don’t turn out ok?” 

I see their sin, and I want to panic! “What if we’ve messed this up?!” I want to fight that sin so that they can be who God has made them to be.  (Disclaimer: I know they aren’t perfect, I’m not that dumb...) 

Today I sat down to pray for these boys, and God spoke to me and said, “Speak over them as I speak over them. See them as I see them.” So instead of laboring hours praying “Jesus, let his eyes be fixed on you and not on girls.” or  “God, take away his disobedience.”  I just proclaimed, “Man of righteousness, man of humility, man of gentility, man of who serves the Lord with all He is, man who loves the Lord with all that’s within him...” and so on and so on....and I let the praise come forth. 

Because I don’t want to spend too much time acknowledging who Satan is trying to make these boys, I would rather spend my time agreeing with God for who He has already made them to be. 

That’s how we sin abolished in our lives and that’s when we see certain struggles coming to an end. When we combat them with praise. Proclaiming who God is and who we are, renews our minds.  

This phrase is beautiful and you’ve probably heard it before, but let me tell it to you again. 

We have to stop telling God how big our problem is, and tell the problem how big our God is. 

Rest Assured

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. -Hebrews 11:1 

What does it mean that faith is the evidence of things unseen? 
That there are things that are unseen and the only reason that we know those things exist is because of faith. 

These past few weeks I’ve seen this awesome vision that the Lord brought about called Doors Primary school start it’s second full year of school. I’ve seen beautiful children come abounding into school with joy and relief to be back. And I’ve seen a devoted and passionate headmistress walk through the slum in her high heels and drag those children back to school who didn’t make it the first few days. 

And I’ve seen busyness over every page in my planner. I’ve seen sunken looks on kids faces as I give them snappy answers. I’ve seen beautiful joy exploding out of two friends that spent 4 days in my house and blessed me abundantly. I’ve seen a two week battle with a stubborn child over whether or not he wants to use his mosquito net be resolved with laughter and tears. I’ve seen the death of too many sweet children, and I’ve seen life abounding. 

Our sight is undoubtedly one of the greatest ways that we perceive where we are, who we’re with, and what’s going on around us. What we see with our own two eyes can comfort us, appease our worries, or depending on the situation really freak us out. It’s one of our five senses that we live and perceive by every day. But for the believer, God has given us a totally different sense to live by and that’s faith... 

I rely too much on what I see in my own life every day to determine whether or not I’m being faithful. I’ve been challenged this past week by realizing that when I see the fruit of my relationship with Christ, or see myself having actions that I deem faithful, I feel faithful, and I feel assured that I’m okay. When I wake up and get in the Word before crazy days start, on days when I control my tongue and pray for somebody rather than slander them, on days where I am singing and praising and praying in the Spirit all day long, on days when I am moving with God and I know it’s step by step, move for move --- those days are days where I can see the fruit of my relationship with Christ and in turn I am assured that I’m being faithful! 

But what about the days where that quiet devotion in the morning doesn’t happen? Or the days where I’m questioning God because I can’t see why I am where I am? Or the days where it is so hard for me to love people that I would rather go to the dentist and have a root canal and tell them to go easy on the Novocain? 

What about those days? Did Satan come in with a vacuum cleaner and devour all my faithfulness? The days where I can’t see myself acting in faith or see the fruit of my relationship with Christ...I feel unassured that it’s there. They can make me believe that I am falling away. 

Then there are seasons of walking through the fire. There are seasons of pain and loss. There are seasons of dryness. There are seasons of disobedience. There are all types of seasons that may be days, weeks, months, or years...Seasons where we don’t see our faith, and we quickly divert to measure ourselves as doing wrong, as unfaithful. 

But in Hebrews it says that faith is the substance of things hoped for. Faith makes God’s promises over us have substance!!!  Faith makes my relationship with Christ have substance! Faith is the evidence of what we can not see! Even when we are looking into our own lives to see if that relationship is there - should we do that? Or should we have faith that the relationship is there and it’s thriving? 

Let’s talk about our own faiths for a moment. So many days when we are in the process of being refined (which is constantly!) we don’t see our faith and we lose assurance and immediately we begin to doubt and question and worry and judge ourselves (when we can’t see our faith we lose faith that it’s there). When we can’t see our relationship with God, we doubt that it’s there and we doubt that it’s working. 

But what God has been teaching me is that He is always tilling the soil and we don’t need to judge ourselves at all. We need to come before Him with meekness - meekness is giving God the power to judge you without defending yourself. We need to seek the Lord for what the condition of our heart is. He is the only one who can ever see the condition of our heart and our Spirit CLEARLY and righteously. 

Upon asking Him to give us a clean heart, to renew our minds, and to love us that very day -- then we need to keep walking and trust Him. Trusting that the condition of my relationship with Him is right, and that maybe I’m not “seeing” the fruit of my faith for the day because really God is teaching me to live by faith. To trust the unseen instead of trusting what’s right in front of me. 

To have assurance that my faith is there even when I can not feel it or see it. 

I’m rejoicing on the days where I’ve come meekly before Him and the fruit of my relationship with God appears to be unseen to me, because I do have assurance that that means that my faith is being faithful. 

I don’t need to see the fruit of my faith. I don’t need to see why I am where I am. I don’t need to see how faithful I am being for the day. These beautiful eyes that God has gifted us with need to be focused on seeing Jesus, and when they are fixed on seeing Jesus that’s all that people are going to see in you too. 

Cleanse your heart and come surrendered before Him and then... 

When you can’t see your faith, you can be assured that you are living by it and it’s being built up every day. 

When you can’t see why you are where you are, you can be assured that it’s because you are relying on God and that His purpose is deeper than what you can see. 

When you are in a season where you’ve been fighting to even feel like you’ve ‘got’ a little bit of God and you don’t feel like you’re doing anything right because you’re not getting an answer, you can believe that you are right where you need to be and that the ways that God is teaching you to trust Him are increasing your dependence on Him every day. 

The mere act of looking to what is unseen causes us to live an undeniably life of faith. Have assurance in that today.

We Remember

Today is our 2 year anniversary of bringing in our eight oldest boys. It’s been two years full of hard work, laughter, tears, frustration, and pretty much every emotion you can have - we’ve all had it. We want to celebrate, we want to rejoice, we want to give thanksgiving to God for all that He has done in our family. And we will, but unfortunately, today has become bittersweet. 

Today we mourn the death of a child that we all knew and loved, Yohaya. 

I didn’t like most of my interactions with this boy. He started doing heavy drugs when he was 6, and now 3 years later he has been suffering from the consequences. He often overdosed and would end up in our home for a few days. His words were always full of anger unless he wanted something. He has bitten me, beat me, and cursed me many a time. He’s made many small trips into our home, where he is showered in love and affection by our boys - his good friends from the streets, and then he would always run away and usually not empty handed. 

Yet, we all loved him deeply. There are few times I have ever seen the war inside of him come to a halt, and see peace overcome. Yohaya loved to color - and I could watch him color for hours as his mind escaped the harsh reality that he lived. A sweetness would come about him, that I have never seen in him any other time. He would proudly show me each picture he would shade, and in a normal 2 day trip into our home, I would have to get at least 3 empty coloring books for him to color in. You could see joy in him. Peace over him. Contentment. This is who Yohaya really was, and we are honored that we are part of the few people that ever got to see him. 

I find myself angry as I think of this little boy’s death. Not at God. God is faithful. This little boy was tormented his whole life. He suffered from abuse, from addiction, from anger, from living on the street, and from the poison that someone fed him that killed him. 

I’m angry because I know that there was something better for him than that on this earth. He never reached it. 

So instead of a glazed-over hallelujah look on all of our boys faces today, I see a righteous anger. I see fiery passion in their eyes. I see determination to dedicate themselves even harder to prayer for the children on the street. I see themselves sitting down on a Saturday and willing themselves to work harder in school and use the gifts they’ve been given to give back one day. 

I see young men that no longer need their lives to be fought for - they are redeemed, sealed, and pressing in to the Lord- but are ready and yearning to fight the good fight of the faith. 

I see young men who are taking the life that Yohaya lost and letting it fuel a fire for God’s righteousness to rain down in the darkest places. 

Yohaya, we love you. You have blessed us. 

Poor People Are Cool.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”-Matthew 5:3

I have read this verse at the beginning of Matthew quite a few times.  I never gave it a lot of thought, except for the few times as a kid I remember thinking – “Gosh this sounds sad, I hope I’m always happy and have plenty of chicken nuggets.”  Valid thought as a child…

 It wasn't until I moved to Uganda and met the poor in spirit, the great street child theologians, the 3-year old preachers of Jesus that this verse became real to me and wrecked me forever.

A lot of us have heard the stories or even experienced the great awakening of God happening among the persecuted, the poor, and the desperate around the world.  I’m not writing this page to just bring a single, apathetic tear or the token- “bless their hearts.”  I don’t want you to feel sorry for the poor in spirit; I want us to hunger and thirst with them, learning from their example.  I’m writing on this page in much agony and pain, begging God to help America become “poor in spirit.”  Now please don’t misunderstand me, I’m not promoting the so-called “poverty gospel.”  I’m not saying move out of your house and into a cardboard box (unless God is actually calling you to do so- don’t put Him past it!).   I am not praying for my country to break out in civil unrest, experience famine, or massive epidemics. I just think there is something very fundamental that we can learn from the poor, something that will change us, something that will leave us desperate for the riches they do have. They will teach us about the Kingdom of Jesus Christ.

Jesus tells a story of a wedding feast (Luke 14: 15-24).  The master of the house prepares a wonderful feast; he wants to fill his house with guests.  He sends out his servants to invite the guests in.  The problem is the first people he invites say no!  They have all these excuses for not coming. 

“Sorry Jesus, I just bought a field, and I must go see it.”

“Sorry, just bought some new oxen, on my way to try them out…”

“Sorry, I just got married, I can’t come.”

When the master of the house finds out that everyone refused, he becomes angry and orders his servant to quickly go out into the streets and invite the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.  The rich and affluent were too busy; they had better things to do.

I thought God was sending me to Uganda to help people and “end poverty”.  In reality, God called me to Uganda to sit and eat at the banquet table with the poor, to learn from their desperation, to weep and mourn, to hunger and thirst, to become poor in spirit.  I think Heidi Baker says it best in her book “Compelled by Love”-

“The poor will never say no to a feast.  They will come to eat spiritual food and to eat physical food.  But the Lord is setting out a spiritual banquet for His Western bride too.  The challenge in the West is that many are too full.  We have smorgasbords, buffets, and restaurants at almost every corner.  So, people in the Western world are often just not hungry.  In my travels to the Western world, I see that the church is often surviving on spiritual crumbs.” –Heidi Baker

“The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me.” – Matthew 26:11

We are called by God to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and learn from their poverty in spirit.  Maybe that’s why we will always have the poor with us, because the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to them and we must have our eyes opened to the Kingdom.  Jesus has set out a banquet for each one of us; He is still inviting people in.

I don’t want to be too busy or preoccupied with the things of this world that I miss out on the invitation to be with Jesus.  In reality, we are all poor and orphaned until we enter into the family of God.  When Jesus looks at us he doesn't see rich or poor, African or American, liberal or conservative, hipster or prep, young or old; He sees His kids.  He wants to be with His children forever, and He expects that we will drop everything to be at His banquet table.  Being poor in spirit does not mean that we are miserable and miss out on all the fun and chicken nuggets.  Being poor in spirit is the great awakening you have been longing for, it is the key to your personal revival, it is the beginning of a glorious forever with Him.

"I think the work of the Church in this developed and rich Western Hemisphere is more difficult than in Calcutta, South Yemen, or other areas where the needs of the people are reduced to the clothes needed to ward off the cold, or a dish of rice to curb their hunger- anything that will show them that someone loves them.  In the West the problems the poor have go much deeper; the problems are in the depths of their hearts."- Mother Teresa