Through The Eyes Of Compassion

In the past, I’ve told Nathan that I never really know what to write about when it’s my turn for the blog. He encouraged me to share what’s important to me or what’s happening in my life. So today, here’s a little glimpse into my world.

In 2003, 22 years ago, we sponsored a 2-year-old boy from Haiti through Compassion International. His name is Fridane. Over the years, we’ve exchanged countless letters, shared pictures, swapped stories, and somehow, across all those miles, he became part of the Gersic family. We’ve never been able to visit. Haiti has long been overwhelmed by violence, political unrest, and danger. But we’ve grown close even though we live many miles apart.

When he graduated from the Compassion program, our communication didn’t end. We began speaking directly, and I quickly realized he is among the most hope-filled, faith-filled Christians I’ve ever met. Somewhere along the way, he began calling me “Mom.” God has allowed me to fill a special role in his life, one I never knew I needed, but one that has blessed me deeply. As a kids’ director and an unofficial youth mama, God has brought so many kids, teens, and young adults into my life and my heart that sometimes it feels like there couldn’t be room for more. But God always makes room for one more. I am so very blessed in the relationships He has given me. I long for the day we meet face to face, and I can provide Fridane the biggest mama hug ever.

Recently, Fridane’s journey took a dramatic and heartbreaking turn. Out of desperation for safety, he made the treacherous trip from Haiti to Mexico, and he is now seeking asylum there.

I often speak with him through messages and video calls. As I’ve walked through this journey with him, I’ve gained perspective I didn’t know I was missing. Our country has its share of violence, division, and brokenness. But I don’t live each day wondering if I’ll find food or fearing for my safety. I don’t have to uproot everything I know to survive.

And here’s what amazes me: he continues to fight for a future despite everything. He’s walking miles daily to attend school and teach himself Spanish. Part of his motivation is that he longs to attend church again, but he cannot until he learns enough Spanish to understand the service. He misses it deeply. He has done whatever it takes to keep going, plugging, and never giving up, all with an incredible hope-filled and life-giving outlook. He often reminds me, “Don’t worry, Mom, there is nothing our God cannot do.”

And then I think about myself- how sometimes I don’t feel like getting up to fold the laundry, how I groan about things that feel “hard” in my comfortable life. Meanwhile, he is willingly walking miles to learn another language. In contrast, I realize how easily I can be indifferent without noticing it. It’s easier to turn a blind eye to suffering because it hurts when we face it head-on. But that’s precisely what Jesus calls us to do: to look, to see, to care, to let our hearts be moved.

Many of our youth will head to Bright Bridge Ministries this Sunday to help feed the less fortunate. For some, it will be the first time they’ve had a front-row seat to see how others survive, even right here in our own community. I believe it will open their eyes and hearts just as Fridane’s story has opened mine.

In the same area where Fridane lives in Mexico, there are countless children in desperate need. I’ve even found a missionary serving in the very area where he lives, and I’ll be connecting with him soon. My prayer is that one day, I can arrange a mission trip there to stand alongside Fridane and others and help however we can.

Through it all, I keep coming back to Jesus’ words in Matthew 25:40:

“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

Almost every day, there’s a new update from Fridane, another “look what God is doing” story in his life. His testimony reminds us that God is always working, even in the darkest places. There is so much more to his beautiful, unfolding story. If you ever want to know more, find me. I’d love to tell you.

For me, it started with child sponsorship. Compassion International changed not only Fridane’s life but ours. Through their program, he received food, care, and discipleship and learned English. Something that has shaped his opportunities and allowed us to build an even closer relationship. Today, our family is also getting to know a precious child in Uganda through Imani Milele. There’s a great big world out there filled with people who need love, help, and Jesus.

So, where do we go from here, and how do we truly see people? Maybe it looks like sponsoring a child, donating to missions, or helping in our very own We Care ministry. However, God leads. Take a step. You never know how it might change someone’s story- or yours.

And so, I pray: Jesus, give us Your heart of compassion. Give us Your eyes to see others the way You do. Break our hearts for what breaks Yours. And then give us the courage to act in love.

May we all learn to see the world through the eyes of compassion.

I Want You To Want To

Nobody in our house likes to do the dishes. What makes matters worse is that my wife and I have very different philosophies about how the dishes should be done. I’ll admit, her way is probably right. But saying she’s right and actually being motivated to do it her way are two very different things.

A line from a movie came up in one of my classes this week, in the middle of an argument between a couple:
“I want you to want to do the dishes!”
“Why would I want to do the dishes?”

Even 20 years after that movie came out, the quote sticks because anyone who’s been married or in a close relationship has probably had a version of that conversation. And here’s the thing: it’s not really about the dishes. They stumbled into something profoundly spiritual.

Christianity has a bit of a reputation for being full of “no-fun rules.” To an outsider, and honestly, even to many Christians, it can seem strange to give 10% of your income to God, to miss out on Sunday morning beach time, or to love your enemies. From the outside, those things look like chores, like doing the dishes.

But here’s the difference: God doesn’t call us to do these things to ruin our fun or because He can’t handle it Himself. He calls us to them because through the act of doing, our hearts are shaped, and our love for Him is shown.

And our attitude makes all the difference. There’s a big gap between inviting someone to church because “that’s what I’m supposed to do” and inviting them because you genuinely want them to encounter God’s love. There’s a difference between giving to the church out of guilt and giving because you’re grateful for all that God has given you.

God doesn’t just want us to do the Christian life. He wants us to want to.

Because when obedience flows out of love, it stops feeling like a chore and starts feeling like worship.

Keeping Our Focus

Lately, it feels like so many people are living on edge. The news, the conversations, and the constant “what ifs” are leaving hearts heavy and minds racing. I understand it- I’ve felt it too. But I want to remind you of something important: God is still in control, and everything is going to be okay.

Yes, one day the trumpet will sound and Christ will return. But spending our days in fear, constantly worrying about when that moment will come, pulls us away from the very purpose we were placed here for. God didn’t design us to live paralyzed by worry- He designed us to live in faith, to walk in hope, and to love with courage.

I’ve thought deeply about these things. I’ve mourned, I’ve wrestled, and I know how heavy it can all feel. But I also believe it’s time to move forward. God has so much for us in this season- plans, opportunities, callings- that we risk missing when our attention is swallowed up by fear.

When we fixate on what might be, we drift from what is. And what is true today is that God is present, working, and leading. He’s not finished with you, and He’s not finished with His church. As Hebrews 12:2 reminds us, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.”

So, instead of letting fear write our story, let’s lean into what God is calling us to right now: to love Him, to love people, to serve faithfully, and to carry hope into a world that desperately needs it. Fear will slow us down, but faith will keep us moving forward.

Take heart, lift your eyes, and keep your focus. God is not done- and He’s not going to let go.

Before She Spoke

Have you ever planned a meeting, a gathering, or a party and thought no one would show up? That was my concern on March 23 when we invited people interested in a Women’s Day Apart to meet and plan. I walked into the office for the gathering, and there were more women than we had chairs. God laughs at me often. The excitement in the room for a gathering where women can gather, worship, learn, and hear from God was electric. Over the next few months, this group came together and set a schedule, ordered supplies, determined a menu, and more. It has been a joy to watch what God is doing through these women. They somehow managed to get some of our guys to say “yes” to grilling chicken and providing lunch for the gathering. God is working in and through these persons.

This Saturday, September 6, approximately 80 women will gather for “Before She Spoke, embraced by the God who sees, hears, and knows”.  Please take a few minutes in your prayer time to lift up this Day Apart. We can do so much when we work together to further God’s Kingdom.

Peace,

Paula

Grace in the Hardest Calling

There are moments in ministry I feel equipped for. Teaching kids about Jesus? I could do that all day. Leading or organizing a camp? Sign me up. But a few weeks ago, God asked me to step into something completely outside my comfort zone: officiating a funeral.

I knew the family, but I had never met their sweet son. And suddenly, I was being asked to hold one of their most vulnerable, heartbreaking, and unexpected moments in my hands. To stand in front of grieving parents and friends and try to find words that would both honor his life and offer hope in the middle of a storm.

If I’m honest, it was terrifying.

I’m an intensely emotional person. I feel things big, and it’s hard for me not to wear those emotions on my sleeve. My greatest fear was that I would completely break down in sobs and not be able to do what the family needed me to do. God made me tenderhearted, but that tenderness felt like a weakness in this moment. I had to sit with Pastor David ahead of time for guidance, and because he knows me so well, he didn’t sugarcoat it. He said, “Christine, the biggest thing you need to do is trust that God will get you through it and hold it together.” He’s seen me cry many times- but also knew God’s strength would be enough for me.

This wasn’t a church family. Their experience with God was minimal to none, and they made it clear they didn’t want a “religious” funeral. No heavyhanded sermon, no churchy clichés. They wanted to honor their son in a way that felt true to him while still leaving room for prayer and some measure of hope.

I knew it would be a tightrope walk. One that required me to listen carefully, hold back my own impulses, and lean fully on the Spirit. How do you honor a family’s wishes while still letting God use you as a conduit of His grace? I didn’t know if I could do it.

But here’s the thing about God: He never calls us into the deep end without showing up there with us.

Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9 that God’s grace is made perfect in weakness. That verse became more than ink on a page for me; it became breath in my lungs. Because in that moment, I had nothing to offer on my own. My words weren’t eloquent. My heart was heavy. My hands were trembling. But His grace carried me through.

And that’s what I want to remind you today: God calls each of us into places that stretch, scare, and grow us. Sometimes it’s public, like standing in front of a grieving family. Other times it’s private, like having a hard conversation with someone you love, forgiving when it feels impossible, or showing up to encourage someone in the trenches of their pain.

Growth is rarely comfortable. But comfort was never the goal- faithfulness is. That day, I got to witness something holy. God took my shaky voice and used it to bring a sliver of light into a very dark room. He allowed prayer to settle over a family who didn’t even know they needed it. He gave me words that weren’t mine, but His. And somehow, in the middle of heartbreak, there was hope.

The writer of Hebrews says, “Now may the God of peace… equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ” (Hebrews 13:20-21). That’s exactly what He did for me. He equipped me for what I thought I could never do, and He worked through me in a way that was beyond myself.

Friend, I don’t know what impossible thing God may be asking you to step into right now. But I do know this: if He’s calling you to it, His grace will meet you there. You don’t have to have the perfect words. You don’t have to feel strong. You just have to be willing to show up and let Him work through you.

Because when we are weak, He is strong. And sometimes the most powerful testimony we can give is not of our own ability, but of His grace carrying usthrough what we could never do alone.