After 50 years of service in Africa, a weary missionary couple descended the gangplank of their boat. Their disembarking was delayed by a throng of press and well-wishers welcoming president Theodore Roosevelt back from his most recent safari.
As my son in law drove his two little boys, Preston and Bailey, to swimming lessons the conversation suddenly swerved. Daddy what is hell?
After opening the service in our small college chapel with the usual formalities, our guest speaker, an old man with a weathered face stepped to the podium. He wasn’t smiling as he began. “Most of us,” he said, “have moss growing on our butts.”
There was a collective, gasp from the conservative faculty and student body. I am certain the word “butt” had never been uttered within the walls of that little chapel. One of the deans rose halfway from his metal folding chair—then sat back down.
As we were driving to our beautiful mountain getaway in Colorado. My then three-year-old granddaughter, Jadyn, asked where our cabin was located.
I said, ” Our place is located right where those five lines come down the mountain and join at the bottom.” I pointed to the lines on the mountain which are actually the avalanche shoots you see in the accompanying picture.
“Can you see them?” She stared intently at the mountain for several minutes. Then the following conversation took place.
Last night I was captivated by two speakers at the Compassion International appreciation banquet.
Both men began their lives in hopeless social, spiritual, and physical poverty. But they didn’t stay there.
People they had never met lived out two principles that changed these boys lives and as a result, changed the lives of thousands of other children.
A 23 year old young woman and an elderly woman heard the stories of these boys and sponsored them.
The amazing result?