Oh no, it's happening again! Lily's body felt like it was burning up and she started screaming uncontrollably. Rajeev grabbed his young daughter and ran out the door. Maybe the priest can help, he thought, as he sprinted towards the Hindu temple in his village.
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Abram's motorcycle bounces along the dusty desert road in the chilly night air. The solitary beam from his headlight seems to search aimlessly into the blackness of night, until finally it finds its mark—a guard shack just ahead. Menacing barbed-wire fences reach into the darkness on either side. If he proceeds, Abram knows he could be in trouble. This is the moment of truth. But what lies beyond the guard shack is worth the risk.
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For Premalatha, the prospects of a brighter future were non-existent. She and her siblings were abandoned by their impoverished parents. So they found themselves being raised by grandparents who were afflicted with leprosy and whose only means of survival was begging. Consequently, the children were consigned to India's lowest level of poverty. Living in a leprous community shut all educational doors for them, extinguished any future hopes for marriage, and sealed their tragic fates. Worse, Premalatha was taught by her Hindu culture that they were all suffering for sins committed in their former lives. There was no sense even dreaming.
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It was past midnight. Samuel was standing, soaking wet, on the riverbank looking back across the dark water now separating him from his home country of North Korea. Though the night air was cool, he barely noticed. His wildly beating heart was pumping generous amounts of adrenaline throughout his body. I made it!...he thought with elation...I actually made it.
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No pensions, no government assistance, and in most cases, no family support. When a woman's husband dies in many parts of Africa, not only does she lose any income he previously earned, but her deceased husband's family confiscates most, or even all, of her property, leaving her and her children destitute. Grinding poverty becomes a daily reality.
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It has now been almost 36 years that I've been serving in vocational ministry. Along the journey, I've learned not just a few lessons. How I wish I could have known 36 years ago what I know now! I would have done so many things differently.
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Can you remember when you accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior? I was a high school sophomore at a retreat in Oglebay Park, West Virginia. My Young Life leader opened the Word of God to me in a way no one had before. To him I am forever grateful.
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Isn't it ironic. Rain falling in torrents—so much rainwater that it comes up to your knees—but you can't drink it. Purified water is desperately needed when flooding occurs, and so are clean, sturdy containers to keep the water pure while living through days and weeks of ubiquitous mud, mosquitos and misery.
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Widows are made when husbands die prematurely. In their absence, women and children in poor nations are often left with nothing—no money for rent, medicine or even food. No government assistance ever comes. Other "widows," such as Miriam in the photo above, are made when husbands leave their families for other women, or to pursue lives of crime or drugs—or all of the above.
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I wanted to cry tears of sadness when I first heard about Kandy (not her real name). She weighed 35 pounds when she first arrived at Cindi's Hope in Nairobi, Kenya—but she was just 12 years old. Her ribs could easily be counted, and she couldn't button a shirt over her enlarged tummy. Her intake medical exam revealed severe malnutrition and HIV/AIDS.
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