"Because Jesus asked me to."

I've had a lot of people asking me lately, "why do you do it?" Or "how do you do it?" Or "how do you find enough time in the day?" How's that old adage go ... if you want to get something done, ask a busy person ...

My family, especially my mom, classifies me as "that busy person." She has a hard time understanding why I feel compelled to stay so busy, especially in the ways that I have chosen. She knows that the organizations or issues that I work with "are worth it," but she hasn't quite taken hold of what drives me to say yes or offer to assist. I know in my heart that she knows about Jesus and I believe that she believes in Heaven, but she's missing the relationship part. In essence, she knows about the beginning and the end, but she's missing everything inbetween.

There are a lot of people in our lives like my mom. They're not bad, they've just seen the trailer or the "sneak peek" and that's all they know. They haven't taken the time to sit down and watch the whole story. It would be like describing the movie Castaway as a guy gets on a plane, it crashes and he gets rescued in the end. You have the gist of the whole story, but so much happens inbetween - it's actually the meat of the story. And it's this part that defines us, shapes us, gives us guidance and a purpose in our life. I used to be a wanderer too, but I was blessed to be given an opportunity to "see the rest of the story." To me, it has made all the difference in the world - in my world - and how I order my life.

In my yesterdays, I was worried about things (possessions) and how I appeared to those around me. Now, I worry about others and how I can give them a hand-up, how I can show them love - especially agape love, and what kind of difference that will make in their life. My family works together to make a difference in our community and in the worldwide community. If we know of a need, we work together to fill it.

Much of our focus is centered around children and families. I am the product of a broken home as my parents divorced in the early 70's. There was still a stigma to divorce at that time and I felt it very much when the parents of my friends would ask about mine. I tried to avoid it at all costs. My closest friends knew, but that was it. My mom worked 2 jobs to keep us in our home and fed. We never went without and we were also very fortunate to have maternal grandparents close that helped out as well. My husband, on the other extreme, is from a home of 4 children with parents who are still married today, after 50+ years. They traveled on summer vacations as a family going to places I only dreamed of. So when we decided to get married, we promised that it was for life. So far, we've been married 23 years and counting - quite an accomplishment in today's society. However, unlike our days of growing up, we've had the opportunity to share with our son what the world really looks like out there. We volunteer with Family Promise, helping to keep homeless families together during the worst circumstances. We've also traveled on mission to the Dominican Republic, staying at and working for the orphanages of Hogar de Ninos. Josh sees his own life, but he has also been exposed to the "realities" of the rest of this world. He shares this point of view with his friends and peers. Some of the kids label him as a bit "eclectic". I look at him as well-rounded.

I received a devotional via email the other day. It's from Life Support and it's written by Steve Goodier. If you don't subscribe to these, you should. I'd like to share this one as it speaks directly to why I - we - do the things we do. And if you'd like to know how I found out the rest of the story, please ask me! Enjoy!

There are few things in this life more difficult to experience than the loss of one's child. Jim Wallis, in WHO SPEAKS FOR GOD tells about a sad and terrifying incident that occurred during the tragic war in Sarajevo not too many years back.

A reporter who was covering the violence in the middle of the city, saw a little girl fatally shot by a sniper. The reporter threw down his pad and pencil and rushed to the aid of a man who was now holding the child. He helped them both into his car and sped off to a hospital.

"Hurry, my friend," the man urged, "my child is still alive." A momentor two later he pleaded, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still breathing." A little later he said, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still warm."

When they got to the hospital, the young girl was gone. "This is a terrible task for me," the distraught man said to the reporter. "I must go tell her father that his child is dead. He will be heartbroken." The reporter was amazed. He looked at the grieving man and said, "I thought she was YOUR child." The man replied, "No, but aren't they all our children?"

I think that is one of the great questions of our age. Aren't they all our children? It is a question that deserves an answer.

Aren't they all our children? Those who live under our roof and those who reside with another family? Those to whom we are related as well as those whom we have never known?

Aren't they all our children? Those on our side of the border as well as those on the other side? Those of our nation no more or less than those of another?

Aren't they all our children? Those who worship like us and those who worship differently? Those who look like us and those who do not?

Aren't they all our children? The well-educated and the under-educated? The well-fed and the under-fed? Those who are secure and those who are at risk?

Aren't they all our children? The highly valued and highly esteemed as well as the castaways and the lost?

Aren't they all our children? Aren't they all our responsibility? ALL of them? Ours to nurture? Ours to protect? Ours to love?

I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that the survival of our world hinges on the answer to that question. To say they are NOT all our children is to condemn the world to more struggle – family against family, group against group, nation against nation.

Aren't they all our children? If we say yes, can we ever again pit them against each other? "If we have no peace," said Mother Teresa," it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other."

Aren't they all our children? There may be no greater question for our generation. And how we answer that question will determine the shape of our world for years to come.