A Parent's Words

                                                    

        Today, there is much at stake in what we say. Words plummet from our mouths brandishing unlimited influence. Words boast of the authority to encourage, uplift, compliment, validate, extend hope, and promote healing. The very way our words are exhaled kiss the soul and declare life. Alternatively, words flaunt the ability to cut, pierce, provoke, irritate, anger, shatter, and destroy. Jon Bloom, president of Desiring God, writes, “People die because of something said. Tongues can be weapons of mass destruction, launching holocausts and wars. Tongues can also be the death of marriages, families, friendships, churches, careers, hopes, understanding, reputations, missionary efforts, and governments.” But, the most prevailing words that echo through the recesses of our minds are those articulated by our fathers. Because a father’s words are weighty.

As a mother, the words I declare over my children are powerful, but the words spoken by a father have a greater impact and far more lasting consequences.  Angry, careless words can drop heavy like a crushing brick stripping the blossoming woman within of worth and dignity causing her to wither inside. A father’s words have the potential to inspire, reshape, redeem, and remind the precious soul of grace, unconditional love, respect, and chivalry. The mouth of a father is a Holy Grail filled with potent words to inoculate sons and daughters against a poisonous culture filled with the enemy’s defamations. A father can be the “voice of reason” or the reason their child no longer uses their voice. Because the sum of a father’s words are weighty.

The foundation of a daughter’s securities and subsequent inadequacies are erected on the affirmation or lack thereof they receive from their fathers. King Solomon wrote, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue and those who love it will eat its fruits” (Proverbs 18:21). A wise father knows his words can hurt more than sticks and stones and there is no such thing as an insignificant word. A wise father knows timing and tone are considerations and every single syllable has the potential to caress the soul or extinguish it. A wise father discerns that his words are weighty and he is careful to glorify God by tempering his anger in order to have a well-fathered daughter.

Womankind are born with a God given desire for affection, affirmation, and love. Every soul longs to be chosen and to believe they matter-that they have purpose. There is a heart hunger hidden in each woman reserved for their Daddy and a desire to delight him. Therefore there is no one on this earth who holds more power to ensure the thriving of a soul than a father. Ultimately our desires are a gaping hole. A gaping flesh wound inflicted in the garden when man chose woman over God. Perfection was destroyed, sin was introduced, and our souls have been gaping wide ever since. There is only one remedy for our scarred hearts. The only soul fulfillment is the love of a sinless Savior and a blood stained cross.  

He is the living Word and the eternal pre-existing Word and his very utterances created a universe beyond comprehension. The breath of the Holy One infuses our lungs and every single exhalation whispers his name pouring forth praise. Forever his word is firmly fixed in the heavens extending hope to a sin tainted world. And the most significant confession is birthed in our hearts which leads to salvation because “out of the heart the mouth speaks” (Matthew 5:18)…Jesus is LORD! Jesus is LORD! Jesus is LORD! For that reason, our souls are diagnosed by our words since our tongues reveal our hearts. Our words exist in a circadian rhythm…daily gifts to sanctify our children who were made in the very image of God. Forgive us, Father, our soul amnesia overlooking whose image our children reflect and may our hearts consent with author Ann Voskamp to continually, “Speak words that make souls stronger,” because a parent’s words are weighty.

The Gift of Sponsorship

     I can still remember it like it was yesterday. My two little girls ages 6 and 4 were snuggled securely on my lap as we sat in front of the computer looking intently and heart-wrenchingly at the vast sea of beautiful, anticipative faces who were created in the image of our God. Each set of eyes looking back at me pierced my heart as we read story after story searching for the one God would place on our hearts to sponsor. Etched into each yearning face is a story. For some it is the loss of a parent, others it is living in a “high risk” aids infected area, the majority reside in malaria ridden areas, and many are the tiny hands and feet working for survival yet hoping one day education would be written into their lives that the cycle of poverty might be broken. Though the stories may be diverse, each one began with hope sworn identical words, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you” (Jeremiah 1:5). God is acquainted with every single story and every single child and his very knowing of them guarantees hope. As we painstakingly narrowed down the pictures and stories that tugged at our hearts, we made our decision and chose little Anna, age 6 from Tanzania. 
          

          Now it has been 6 years since our family sponsored our first child and we’ve gone on to add several more sponsorships to our family. Last Christmas, after my children began asking to become sponsors themselves, they each sat down at the computer and once again chose that special person whose lives they would impact. Because the truth of the matter is our very existence is a “mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14) and our existence is not about making a life, but changing a life. Allowing our children the gift of sponsorship has given them a sense of responsibility in the transformation of a life across thousands of miles through prayer, letter writing, and gift giving. Addy, my oldest daughter, has become a beautiful spokesperson for Compassion, advocating on behalf of the children, speaking before her peers on Compassion Sunday, and forever looking for the next sponsor for the life of a child. 

     Last night I sat captivated at the Gift of Christmas Tour enthralled  with the beauty and passion of three sisters in Christ, Amena Brown, Ellie Holcomb, and Ann Voskamp. Yes, this event was sponsored by Compassion International, but sponsoring another child was the furthest thing from my mind. We had recently lost a couple of our Compassion children because their families had moved out of the Compassion service area and we had chosen new children in their place. However, as Ann Voskamp called the Compassion representatives forward, each carrying numerous folders containing the lives of children in desperate need of hope-my heart was stirred. Because during this advent season, isn’t that what we all need? What we all are starving to behold? Just a glimmer of hope in our messed up world? For some of us, we are hanging on by our last thread and we need someone to come and reweave our story and sow hope in our dark places. We need the light from heaven to peel back our darkness because light always over powers darkness. As I looked up, a beautiful young lady named Hope stood before me and her name simply beckoned me to extend the gift of hope to one of the lives in her hand. And then I saw her, a tiny girl child with braided hair with the words Central America scrawled across her card. My heart was pressed to choose her, just as Christ chose me and whispered, “You are mine” across the dark recesses of my longing soul. But, alas a moment of doubt, a second of hesitation and she was gone. The evening continued and my loving Father insisted, “Sponsor her,” but I wrestled with the internal dialog of my heart thinking surely she had been chosen by another since much time had elapsed. However, I sensed the gentleness of my Father asserting, “She’s still there.” So at the end of the evening I made my way through the crowd to the Compassion table and began swiftly scanning the sea of hopeful faces peering back at me from their folders, searching for the tiny girl child with braided hair from Central America. Then all of a sudden my eyes landed on her precious face and I gasped, not really believing, and I clutched her packet, thankful the Lord had extended a second opportunity for obedience to his will. Tears slid down my face as I clasped Holanna’s packet to my heart and I said to the representative, “I want her.” And with those words, Holanna became Cianciotto sponsored child #7…God’s perfect number. 

     Ever since I was a child I have held a deep longing to adopt and yet, I’ve had to learn to thank God for the desire while it goes unfulfilled. Although God has not given me more children to mother in my home, he has blessed me with what I like to call my “spiritual children” through Compassion. So, I have two children in Africa, one in Haiti, India, Bolivia, Mexico, and the Dominican Republic. He has called me to advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves (Proverbs 31:9) and who are otherwise ruined by their condition. I am called to grasp hope and extend hope because if I don’t, I will pass through this life and never really live it. Hope is where the journey begins.    
If you would like to begin your journey of sponsorship, would you please consider sponsoring Francisco Emmanuel Bountin Jimenez from the Dominican Republic?

Addy is advocating for the Speak Up Compassion Campaign whereby she is "speaking up" for one child in poverty and looking for Franciscos's hope giver. Please contact me today if God has placed it on your heart to be his sponsor!