On Memorial Day, we remember those who have given their lives in service to our country—an incredible sacrifice. With so many Americans in active duty, this holiday is more important than ever.

Perhaps there’s room in this observance for others who have sacrificed—not for their country, but for humanity. I already knew that violence against aid workers was on the rise, but it really hit home in March, when seven World Vision staff members were killed in a brazen attack on our office in Pakistan.

There was a time when humanitarian workers could operate within conflict zones with some degree of security, protected by their status as noncombatants. Since the 1990s, attacks on relief workers have increased. You can argue that there are more aid agencies sending civilians into unstable environments such as Afghanistan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, or Sudan’s Darfur region, but it’s not that these folks are getting caught in the crossfire—they’re being targeted. They’re being ambushed, kidnapped, shot, bombed.

Most relief workers go into this profession with their eyes open (and with professional security training), and they believe their jobs are too important to yield to danger. For Christians, there’s an added incentive—to represent our loving and merciful God in a hostile world. That opportunity, to prove that love trumps hate, is one that I know many Christians are willing to die for, and tragically, some do. But if Christians don’t love their neighbors, who will?

This weekend, please join me in remembering these unsung heroes—people who have given their lives serving “the least of these” around the world.

Lately I’ve become dependent on my GPS navigation device for car trips. Mine has a male, British voice—I call him Hugh. I enter a starting location, then type in things like “avoid freeways” or “shortest distance.” Hugh even helps me schedule stops along the way, such as restaurants and sightseeing attractions. But it’s the destination that’s most important to enter into the GPS—where do I want to end up?

The same principle applies in your life journey. If your destination is success, measured by career achievements and wealth, the driving directions that will get you there might look at this:

• Become a workaholic
• Stay on the highway at all costs
• Avoid costly detours like family, friends, relationships, and service to others
• Value money over people
• Turn off your moral compass

For followers of Christ, there’s a destination that summarizes the two greatest commandments in the Bible: love God and love your neighbor as yourself. These driving directions might include:

• Take detours when someone needs your help
• Pay more attention to your moral compass than your bank balance
• Get off the highway for parent/teacher conferences, clarinet recitals, and soccer games
• Invest your time, talent, and treasure in enriching others’ lives
• Take the scenic route, even though it’s slower and has more potholes

Joining World Vision was a major recalibration in my journey. I had to get off the career highway, quit a job I worked 25 years to get, and take a cut in pay. Some of my former corporate colleagues think I’ve gotten badly off track. But actually, I haven’t. My life goal—my destination—has always been to love God and love my neighbor.

What’s your destination? Are you open to the twists and turns that might take you there?

It’s finals week for my daughter Hannah at Pepperdine University’s law school. Once her hectic term ends, instead of enjoying a carefree summer, she’s going to Uganda for a legal internship with International Justice Mission.

Hannah Stearns

Echoes of the past: On my first date with Reneé, when we were both in college, she told me she wanted to become a lawyer and help the poor with their legal problems. Me, I was headed straight for a career in business, hoping to make a lot of money. I’m glad Hannah’s taking after her mother in this respect.

By the time we started a family, though, Reneé and I were on the same page, and we wanted to raise our children to be compassionate. That’s no easy thing—there’s no “Dummies” book on it. Like everything else in parenting, modeling is important—living out your priorities. Reneé and I have included our children as stakeholders in our charitable giving, sitting down as a family each year to choose which individuals, organizations, and church needs we would support, using Monopoly money to allocate amounts.

When I became president of World Vision, I had the opportunity to bring all of my children on trips with me to the developing world, including Hannah to Uganda in 2006. Not all parents can do this, I understand. But poverty is seldom far away—families can volunteer at soup kitchens or homeless shelters or go on a short-term missions trip with their church.

Children seem wide-open to caring for others. I’ve heard so many examples lately about kids giving enthusiastically to Haiti’s earthquake survivors, families affected by AIDS, and other urgent needs. God’s already working in their hearts; it’s up to us as parents to develop this.

How are you encouraging your children’s compassion?

I’ve been watching the news about the terrible flooding in Tennessee. World Vision has a team based in Nashville, and many of my friends from Thomas Nelson publishing live there, so I’m praying for them.

I’ve never experienced a natural disaster myself, but I’m sure it’s agonizing to fear for loved ones and disturbing to see your home and possessions damaged or even swept away. Still, many affected families will eventually rebound through insurance and government assistance—the safety net we can rely on as Americans.

In my travels in the developing world, especially to places affected by natural disasters or war, I’ve noticed a key difference between myself and the poor: I am accustomed to feeling a sense of control over my circumstances. Perhaps it’s my economic situation, my job security, or my education, but I tend to think I can handle what life throws at me. And if I can’t, my safety net will be there. People living in chronic poverty have no illusions about control. Day-to-day they struggle along, with nothing to catch them when they fall.

As hopeless as that sounds, there’s an upside: It strengthens their faith. They must depend on God. Every day, their faith is renewed.

Here in our wealthy country, it often takes a drastic experience to put us in that position. We often need to be literally at our wits’ end to give up control and give it to God.

The reality is, we are dependent every day—every minute—on God for our every breath. How would it change us if we lived that way?