Mondays are usually good mail days. Even though we had recently heard from just about all of our Compassion International children, I still walked to our mailbox with some hopeful anticipation yesterday.
I reached in and pulled out a phone bill, electric bill, car insurance bill and an envelope from Compassion.
Right away, I saw that it wasn’t the usual “Message From Your Sponsored” child envelope, so I figured it was information about fundraising or perhaps something from the Advocates Network.
As I walked back home, I tore into the envelope. (Somehow, Compassion mail never makes it into my house unopened. The walk back to our house is 1/4 mile, so I have plenty of time to read as I walk!)
I had to read the letter twice and instantly a lump formed in my throat.
As a correspondent sponsor to several children, I know the risk involved. We write to children whose financial sponsors do not have a desire or ability to write. At any time, if the financial sponsor drops the sponsorship of one of our correspondent children, we are given a decision ~ sponsor the child or write a goodbye letter.
Ironically, I had been thinking about Kazihizina for much of the morning, after posting part of one of her letters in yesterday’s Mail Call post.
The look on her face haunts me. Something about her eyes and the blank expression on her face. I see sadness and a lack of hope. When we were first assigned to write to Kazihizina, I contacted Compassion to see if I could get any more info about her. I learned that she had had two sponsors while she has been in the program and the first one wrote a little. But, as for the second, it had been years since she had received anything on Mail Day. I could only imagine how that must feel. Children tend to take things like that personally, so I wondered if Kazihzina thought she must have done something wrong to cause her sponsor to stop writing.
In the time that we were able to write to Kazihina, I had been faithful to write at least once a month. We haven’t received too many letters back from her, but I did my best to pour love and encouragement into her.
So, to receive the letter about the end of our correspondence was heart-breaking. In this case, we are given “first dibs” to pick up the sponsorship, but as a single income family I had big worries about being able to carry another financial sponsorship. We had a month to decide what we would do.
I prayed. I posted about our letter on the Blogging From the Boonies Facebook page and the OurCompassion site, asking for prayer. All day, I had a lump in my throat. I worried that Kazihizina would end up back on the Compassion website, either waiting for a sponsor or perhaps with a sponsor who doesn’t write. I mentally juggled numbers, wondering if it would be feasible to pick up another sponsorship. When I got overwhelmed, I would pray.
Yesterday evening, a message popped up on my Facebook account that brought real tears to my eyes. A wonderfully generous person offered to pick up Kazihizina’s sponsorship if we would still be willing to write to her. Like the letter I had received earlier, I had to read the message twice to make sure I was reading it right.
I tingled. I smiled. I cried. I ran down to the woodshop to tell my husband and his jaw dropped. Talk about an amazing answer to prayer!
Then, I broke into the Happy Dance right in my kitchen. Praise God!
Kazihizina will not even know that she was dropped. She won’t feel the personal sting of being told her sponsor decided not to sponsor her anymore. Our letters of love and encouragement will continue to flow across the ocean, into her hands and hopefully her heart. We are so thankful to our amazing God and to one generous soul who has decided to stand in the gap for our Kazihizina.
God is so good. Can I get an Amen?
(As a side note, Jill from Compassion Family is giving away a correspondence kit! Click here to enter! )