I love gay people … heterosexuals too.
Whites, blacks, reds, yellows, blues, browns, beiges … no matter the color or the shape, I love.
Male, female … young, old … rich, poor … friend, foe … believe like me, believe NOT like me – I love.
And if it ain’t real, I fool no one … especially not you, God.
God, help us love like you love.
I’m sitting in a river, resting against a large smooth rock that slants away from the water. It’s as if I am sitting in nature’s recliner.
This morning I took a bus from Puerto Vallarta to Boca de Tomatlan, and then took a water taxi to a small isolated village named Quimixto. There are no roads that lead here.
The water taxi is like a small fishing boat that ferries people and supplies back and forth, three of us plus the driver were on this voyage.
After walking down a small cobblestone path through the village, the path ended at the river. I guess you could call it a river, maybe stream would be a better description. The stream is about 40 yards wide and about 2 feet deep at it’s deepest. You can easily wade through the stream from one bank to the other.
Plush green trees reach out from the banks across the water, the kind of trees that you would find in the jungles of Mexico. Indeed, panthers, boars, and other wild animals live in these parts. Mountains rise on both sides of the stream, evidently this stream was more like a river at some point and cut a path through the mountains.
Birds sit high in the trees, and then swoop down from their perch to land in the stream and snag fish and whatever else they eat for breakfast. They also burrow their beaks into the sand to find snacks.
Donkeys and horses also share this stream, wandering into it occasionally for a drink.
About 20 yards in front of me are 2 small pigs that are held in a makeshift pen made of plastic netting. Behind the pigs is a large rock wall, and the pen is completed shaded. A little while ago I was startled by splashing water over my shoulder, the owner of the pigs was wading across the stream to give them some breakfast.
I can hear a symphony of sounds, pigs snorting, horse whinnies, a donkey’s heaonky, all sorts of bird sounds such as squawking, chirping, hooting, and singing. And the sound of the water, there`s nothing quite like the sound of water flowing gently downstream cascading over rocks.
It`s about 9:00 A.M. and the sun is shining brightly overhead and warmly on my back. The temperature is pleasant now, but will rise to above 90 degrees today.
My butt is in the stream, I’m leaning back against the rock, I have a rolled-up shirt for a pillow, a pad in my lap, and a pen in my hand.
Life is good.
I wish that I could pass away right here, and then be ushered into the loving presence of God forever. Is there something wrong with that wish?
Of course, when they got the news my wife would be sad, my family and friends would be sad, there would funeral arrangements to be made, a settling of my estate (“Do you want some of Keith`s tools? I will not need them.”), and maybe a big yard sale to liquidate the rest (I hope that there are bargains galore). But before too long, everyone would go on with their lives.
God alone knows the time and manner of our passing. So while we are alive, let’s leave something good behind.
A smile, a meal, a handshake, wise counsel, safety, shelter, a hug, financial assistance, expertise, companionship, instruction, a kiss, laughter, health, clean water, shade, words of encouragement, and whatever else we feel inspired by God to be and do.
How can you know which charities are the best? Many are trustworthy and provide a valuable service, but many others intentionally coerce you to give abundantly so that they can line their own pockets while providing indifferent services to the needy.
In America I use Charity Navigator (www.charitynavigator.org) to gauge the veracity of specific charities, it is an independent organization that evaluates 5,400 of America’s largest charities. A 4-star rating means that the charity is considered “exceptional,” whereas a 1-star rating reflects an overall evaluation of “poor.”
I supported an international charity for many years that provides support to needy children. I signed up and was assigned a specific child to sponsor, I received a picture of the child and some information (age, gender, family status, country, hobbies, etc), and then started sending monthly contributions. I received periodic updates about the services provided to my child (clothes, toys, medical care, etc.), and about once or twice a year I exchanged letters with the child.
Though it has been many years since I stopped supporting that charity, I still remember the name of my sponsored child: Maria Murmu, who lived in India.
I regularly wrote letters to Maria telling her a little about my life (within the guidelines specified by the charity), I acknowledged information she had shared with me in her letter, and I would ask her specific questions about her school, family, activities, etc. (again, all within the guidelines specified by the charity).
However, I always had this nagging feeling that she never received any of the letters I sent her. Her letters to me never referenced anything in my letters, and her letters were always written in a specific format, something like, “Hello Sponsor, I hope that this letter finds you well. School has been challenging this term, and here are some of the other things I have been doing: Playing with friends, obeying my mother, and helping out around the house. Thank you, Sponsor, for our generous support. Your loving child, Maria.”
Granted, that is an oversimplification, but not by much. The best thing about her letters was the crayon drawings she did in the margins, but even those did not vary much from year to year.
I sponsored Maria from the time she was 7 years old until she was well past 18. I received a new picture of her once each year, and I could at least see how her face matured over the years.
Then one day I received an unceremonious letter from the charity saying something like, “Sorry, but your sponsored child has now graduated from the program, and we have no further information about her. Would you like another child to sponsor?” It was not a warm and fuzzy feeling.
So I decided to investigate the charity to learn more about it, and I went online and found a few different charity evaluators. The result is that I discovered that the CEO`s annual salary was about $375,000, and if he had any perks his total compensation was undoubtedly north of $400K.
Now I’m not against making money, and I sincerely hope that God will entrust me with vast pools of resources, but I felt that the salary of that CEO was excessive …. And I stopped sponsoring children through that charity.
Maria Murmu is almost old enough to be a grandmother by now, and if you are out there Maria and see this blog article, please write and tell me about the last 18 years of your life. Meanwhile, I’d like to talk a little more about charities.
I met a volunteer here in Puerto Vallarta who is visiting a different orphanage than the one I am. He called my orphanage “For-profit” and his “Non-profit.” Based on his additional comments, I should consider transferring any additional time and money to his preferred orphanage.
I met a second volunteer who told me that she used to teach English to kids supported by an agency in town, but they kicked her out because they became jealous of her proficiency in English and resented the progress she made teaching the kids English. So she landed at my “For-profit” orphanage, and feels better about serving there.
At the end of my last visit, the business manager at my “For-profit” orphanage pulled out a laptop and showed me both a PowerPoint presentation and a flash demo which depicts their vision for the orphanage, but that they will need additional funding to achieve their vision.
A third volunteer told me that my “For-profit” orphanage is not really a true orphanage because few of the kids actually live there, it is more of a shelter for abused kids. But the term “orphanage” is used because it enhances fundraising. He also told me that he used to volunteer at a second charity I have been assisting this week, let’s just call it The School, but that he quit over ethical differences with The School.
I met the founder of The School, and he seemed like a real nice chap. I have no reason not to trust him, but he did make an interesting comment about the name of the charity. They intentionally gave the charity a name that includes a derogatory term because it “evokes” an emotional response.
So, how in the hell are you supposed to know who to support?
Here`s an idea, send your charitable dollars to me … I`ve given away more money than was given me to give away on this trip, and there have been absolutely no administrative expenses whatsoever. But then again, that`s a sorry way to operate a charity … when I get back to Utah, I am not going to have any staff, equipment, infrastructure, or endowment.
It’s all good.
The Bible teaches us not to give in order to be seen by others, that giving is best done in secret. For if you give to be seen by others, you have received your reward already … that is, your return is the adulation and reputation that others assign to you. However, God is all-knowing and everywhere-present, and when you give in secret, God is the one who will reward you.
On my bus ride to the orphanage today we stopped to allow a young couple with their baby to board. The mom started to sit next to me in the second row, but then a lady in the front row moved over so that the mom could sit next to her. The dad sat next to me, and fiddled with a baby bottle.
I was stunned at how young they were. I looked at the mom, then looked at the dad, glanced back at the mom, then glanced back at the dad. I did not want to stare, but I had never seen anything like it, and I was trying to get a read on their ages.
I would be surprised if they are teenagers yet.
12 years old! Parents! I can hardly believe it. Of course, I have no way of knowing their actual ages, but I am convinced that neither of them was 14, and when I considered 13 I thought to myself, “I really don`t think that they are even 13 years old.” I had no idea you could even spawn offspring at that age.
I still had money that my friends had given me to give away, and I had to act quickly because my exit was coming up. Mostly I had been giving away 10 peso coins, but I thought I should give this young couple one of the 20 peso bills in my wallet. And then I felt a pang in my heart, 20 pesos was not enough. So I pulled a second 20 peso bill out of my pocket, and thought that 40 pesos would be a nice surprise for them … yep, 40 pesos, that will be plenty … hmmm. My exit was in sight, and we were about to stop, but my heart was still panging. It became clear to me, 3 bills for 3 people – dad, mom, and baby – and I grabbed the third 20 peso bill I was carrying and tried to hand it to the dad who had stood up to let me out. At first he refused, but I insisted and he reluctantly accepted. I bounded off the bus and was gone.
Boy did that feel good!
But alas, 60 pesos is only about $5 measly U.S. dollars. I’m not sure why I was hesitating. If there is any consolation, 60 pesos is probably a fair amount to a 12 year old Mexican.
The Bible also talks about giving G-E-N-E-R-O-U-S-L-Y, and that is not an easy thing to do. But if we can become generous givers, the Bible indicates that the return grows at least proportionately. To paraphrase, “Give, and it shall be given to you, pressed down, shaken together, it will spill into your lap. For by your standard of measure it will be measured to you in return.” Who knows what that return might look like, but the return is a promise from God.
Airplanes, backpacks, bars, beer, bicycles, birds, black hair, blue, blue sky, breezes, bricks, brown skin, busses, cameras, cars, Catholics, cats, cell phones, cement, chairs, cheese, children, chocolate, cigars, clouds, cobblestone, Coca-Cola, coffee, computers, condos, construction, Corona, Costco, crosses, debris, dogs, drivers, exhaust fumes, fish, flowers, food, for rent signs, fruit, garbage, God, green, hats, honking, horns, ice cream, Jesus, jewelry, luggage, magazines, massages, motorcycles, mustaches, newspapers, Nissan, noises, odors, old, orange, orphans, palm trees, people, pesos, police, poor, purple, rain, rainbow, red, rental cars, restaurants, rich, rocks, rust, sand, sandals, shade, signs, shorts, skin, smoothies, snacks, Spanish, stone, stores, students, sun, sunglasses, sweat, swimsuits, tacos, talking, tans, taxis, tequila, tires, tools, tourists, Toyota, traffic, trash, trucks, t-shirts, turns, vendors, Virgin Mary, volunteers, waiting, walkers, water, waves, wind, yellow, young, zapatos.