Post by Paula Bicknell On the last day of August, we loaded the tractor, the rocking chair, and the little green monkey. As the shipping container departed down our long, country driveway, I wondered if Cruz’s little green monkey would crawl out of his box, jump into the rocking chair, and then up onto the…

When I was praying one day I saw these girls, and they were lying on the ground, and big demon-like men were coming along and picking them up and throwing them in dumpsters. I cried out to God and He said, “Will you go and help them?” Friends, these girls are our teen mamas. These…

*Forgive us as we interrupt our Sabbath Month to inform you of some desperate prayer needs* I was seated in the sun at Riding Mountain National Park, red purse at my feet, about to head out for milkshakes with my Mum, sister and sister in law. My hands smelled like soap as I’d been scrubbing…

By the founder of The Lulu Tree   There’s a soldier who sings from the hilltops of Sierra Leone. He sings low African hymns, this warrior of land and sky, as he marches across the soil which feeds his people. He fights on his knees at 4:30 every morning and he fights with his heart…

A post by the founder of The Lulu Tree We never wanted to be a “white savior.” We never wanted to be a savior at all. That’s a role set apart for Jesus alone. We only ever wanted to love. But it’s harder than it sounds—loving, versus fixing. We so often want to “fix” our…

“How do you guys fundraise?” she asks me over Skype. She’s heard of what we’re doing and she wants to join. This is our first meeting. I smile. I love answering this question. “We don’t,” I tell her, and her mouth is the perfect O. “But how? How do you have 12 acres in Uganda?…

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