Take inventory of the immeasurable. Fix your eyes upward to see the abundance of God’s giving and the wealth that He offers.

My name is Dana. In my village and in many others throughout West Africa, girls like me face an uphill battle.

Her name is Margarita. She is Cuban-American, and I am invited to her 85th birthday open house at a local nursing home facility. I have met her in person only once before this event.

Lia* was so tired. She hated her job at the garment factory. She could handle the long days—six days a week—with few breaks, but she hated the way her supervisor constantly shamed her for not working fast enough.