We Are So Blessed!

We recently returned from a four-day trip to the Dominican Republic. We had been invited by Compassion International, a non-profit organization that underwrites schools and missionary work in several different countries. I can tell you that, at first, I wasn't excited about taking the trip, but curiosity caused me to anticipate it.

When we arrived at the airport in Santo Domingo, nothing seemed unusual. Having traveled abroad many times, it's hard to be surprised by the look of buildings, the attitude of Immigration officials, traffic, or much else, to be honest. The surprises would come later.

Our first stop was at the Compassion Headquarters for the Dominican Republic. We were greeted by one of the staff, and taken on a tour of the operations. Since it was after 5pm, everyone had already gone home for the day, except for our guide, who gave us a very detailed explanation of everything we were seeing. I was impressed with the amount of detail work involved in keeping everything running smoothly and efficiently. I could tell they were running a very "tight ship". The Santo Domingo office is involved with sponsorships for more than forty-three thousand children in the Dominican Republic in over ? projects. The most interesting thing I learned at the headquarters was that Compassion works with local churches to establish their projects. Each student and each church goes through an extensive qualification process, and the projects are regularly audited to insure transparency and efficiency. That process is a monumental task, but required for accountability.

Early the next morning, we made our first visit to one of Compassion's projects. Since the Dominican Republic's public school system is split into two three-hour sessions, half the children are in school in the mornings, with the other half in the afternoon. Compassion's project schools work in tandem with the public school schedule. Half the students in the morning, the other half in the afternoon. When we arrived, we were greeted by a very loud group of excited kids ranging in age from 5 to probably 12. They were separated into classrooms by age groups, and we visited each of them before heading into the Church next door for a pre-lunch Worship Service. The singing was nearly deafening, and the enthusiasm was contagious. Within a few minutes, we found ourselves singing along! Even though we didn't know the language, we knew the One they were singing about.

It wasn't too long before someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to step outside. When I stepped into the sunlight, I was greeted by two familiar faces I had only seen in pictures before now. They were the two children my family sponsors at the very project I was visiting. The little boy's name was Victor. He's five-years old, has one brother and one sister, and lives with his Mom, who is not a Christian. The little girl was Alanna. She is eight-years old, and lives in a very small house with ten other family members encompassing three generations. Our visit began very slowly, since neither of these kids had ever seen me, and there were people standing around taking pictures and video. I'm sure it was a very scary experience for them, but everything changed when Victor and Alanna discovered my iPhone! For the next thirty minutes, they smiled and laughed, and the ethnic and cultural barriers crumbled as we communicated through an interpreter. It was great!

Later in the day, I had the opportunity to visit the homes where Victor and Allanna live. I won't attempt to describe them here, but suffice it to say they were what I expected, based on things I had seen on television. The poverty they live in might be "normal" to them, but it's indescribable and unimaginable for those of us who call the United States "home".

Day three took us on a two-hour drive from Santo Domingo, up the coast and inland to what's called a "Batay". It's basically a small village of cinder-block houses, ranging in size from one hundred to four hundred square feet. The people in this particular Batay were mostly Haitian refugees, who had traveled over the mountains into the Dominican Republic to escape what many call "the poorest country in the world." Since the D.R. government doesn't officially recognize them as immigrants, they are basically "legalized slaves", working for the Sugar companies, harvesting sugar cane by hand, and living in the company-owned shacks.

The Compassion project in this village was hosted by an Assembly of God church. I took a picture of their "Sunday School Report" plaque, that hung on the wall in the sanctuary. "Last week's attendance - 50. Visitors - 8. Offering - 164 pesos (approximately $4.50 USD). Although the poverty in this location was more extreme than the Santo Domingo project, the expressions of joy on the faces of the children were the same. Being involved in the project is a lifeline for these kids. They were well-fed, neatly clothed, and excited to be there. The irony was just outside, on the other side of the fence, where I met five kids who were not involved in the project, staring at us through the fence, waiting for an opportunity to experience what "the kids on the inside" were experiencing. Walking the dirt roads through the village to visit a couple of homes, was an experience I will never forget. The people were so happy to meet us and invite us into their homes, even though there was barely room for us to get inside the doors... literally.

The last night in Santo Domingo we had our last meal at the hotel, and I had the privilege of meeting a nineteen year-old young lady who had been in the Compassion program for sixteen years. Our conversation during dinner finally revealed the "Compassion mission" to me. This nineteen year-old college student had had the same sponsor since she was three years-old! A high-school math teacher from Arizona, whom she had never met, had made it possible for her to participate in the Compassion program, and is now sponsoring her through college! I asked if they kept in touch through letters over the years, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She said, "oh yes... she has written me every month since I was three, and I have every letter in a book!" Wouldn't you love to be there when they finally meet face to face someday?

By the time our dinner was over, I had figured out what the ingenious mission of Compassion is... to raise up a generation of Christians that will effect change on their families, their communities, and their countries. The vast majority of children who enter the Compassion program come from families that are not Christians. They are fed, clothed, educated, and introduced to Jesus Christ, since the projects are maintained through local Evangelical churches. It is through the Compassion projects these children learn about having a personal relationship with Christ, and in turn, they introduce their families to this same Jesus.

During one of our bus rides, Zane King, a representative from Compassion, asked me what I thought about what I had seen. I told him the question is not whether or not Christians should be involved, but what is the best we can do? As Christians, we are supposed to live a life of giving... both our time and our treasure. We depend on the Holy Spirit to direct our efforts, and He has called us to come along-side people like the folks from Compassion to be the hands and feet that carry Good News, both physically and spiritually, to these people who so desperately need it.

On the plane ride back to the United States, I was listening to my iPod, when a song came on that summed up the trip, and our lives in general... "We Are So Blessed"!