I often think of my book as a little kite made out of old newspapers, sticks, and string. I cobbled it together, took it to a hill, and prayed God would send the wind to lift it and let it fly.

Andrew Goodwin/World Vision

At first, I thought the “wind” would come from promotion by my publisher, Thomas Nelson, and by World Vision, as well as some media attention, all of which did happen. But what has surprised and delighted and humbled me is the unexpected way my “kite” has taken flight—through people like you.

Yes, I’m talking to you. If you’re reading this blog, it’s a good chance you’re one of the people who told a friend about The Hole in Our Gospel. You suggested it for your church small-group study, or you’re a pastor and you shared it with your congregation. You blogged about it. You tweeted about it. You wrote a customer review on an online bookseller.

Yesterday I had coffee with a couple in Sacramento who bought 440 copies to give to pastors and friends. Via a recent Facebook post, a woman named Gloria told me, “I work in a Bible bookstore and I tell people that you gave the best explanation for poverty I’ve ever read.” Paul, a Catholic priest from Nigeria, said that he has recommended my book to those in his network—one of many people across the globe who are doing the same.

I’m deeply thankful for your efforts. And I know it’s not for me. God is working through you and me, and this book is simply a humble instrument to create change in our world. Thank you, all of you, for helping me fly this kite as a witness to the good news of Jesus’ perfect gospel.

When my children were small, they would make art projects for me at school or camp. Often these creations featured stuff like dry macaroni, glitter, construction paper, clay, and pipe cleaners. From a purely aesthetic point of view, sometimes they were kind of goofy-looking. But because these gifts came from my child’s heart, I loved them. I praised my son or daughter, and I hung the artwork on my wall at the office for all to see.

I was thinking of this recently as I reflected on God’s love for me—an earthly father’s love magnified a million times. He sees our hearts and loves who we are, and He praises us for what we do for Him. Sometimes our best efforts might look to Him like old pasta poorly glued on paper, but like any Father anywhere, He cherishes them.

I like to think God hangs my rudimentary “art projects” on His wall in heaven. This breaks my heart and fills me with joy, all at the same time.

Father’s Day is a great opportunity to celebrate our earthly fathers—but also the ultimate Father, who teaches us, every day, what love truly is.

Last weekend, at the home of Max Lucado, I was served a to-die-for dessert called “gooey-butter pie.” Each piece was worth five miles on the treadmill. I’m sure there must be some connection here to Luke 12:48—and I paraphrase—to whom many calories are given, much exercise is required.

Rich Stearns and Max Lucado in Ethiopia in 2009.

Seriously, the actual verse in Luke applies not just to individuals, but also to churches. Max Lucado’s church, Oak Hills Church in San Antonio, Texas, is truly blessed. Its congregation is more than 8,000 members strong and has many vibrant ministries and small groups. These folks could easily bask in the glow of having bestselling author Max and the dynamic Randy Frazee at the pulpit and just keep to themselves.

But they don’t. Oak Hills goes out to help “reap the harvest” through missions programs in Brazil, Burkina Faso, Haiti, Nicaragua, and the local community. With Max and Randy’s leadership, they’re exploring how to be a church of change like the early Christians in the book of Acts. And Oak Hills and World Vision share a desire to help children in poor communities, so while I was there, we did some dreaming about what we can do together.

I’ll never forget what Pastor Morgan Chilulu in Zambia told me: “A church within its four walls is no church at all.” Oak Hills is bursting out of its walls—no gooey-butter pie necessary.

How have you or your church been “given much”? What does that compel you to do for your neighbor in need? I believe the church can literally change the world—do you?

I love to watch “The Biggest Loser.” It’s fascinating and strangely satisfying to see people overcome their struggles with obesity—sometimes even losing the equivalent of an adult person’s weight over the course of the show.

Did you know that there are “Biggest Loser” TV programs in other countries, including the U.K., Australia, Brazil, and even Brunei? The real surprise for me: South Africa, where many people are chronically hungry, aired a version in 2008.

Maybe we’re not so different from South Africa. Because while we have a national weight problem—some call it an “obesity epidemic”—there are also millions of Americans who don’t have enough nutritious food to eat. A recent U.S. Department of Agriculture report shows that in 2008, the year our economy tanked and so many people lost their jobs, hunger levels spiked. Nearly 50 million people lacked sufficient food, including nearly 17 million children. That’s nearly one in four children in America going hungry.

Of course, we will not see famine and starvation here on the level of what tragically happens in Niger, Democratic Republic of Congo, or Burundi. But statistics like these from the USDA are a sobering reminder that there is need right here in our own backyard—worse than ever, given the economic downturn.

Saturday is National Hunger Awareness Day. If you’re among the blessed to have plenty of food, why not do something to help our nation’s hungry—donate to a food bank, volunteer at a soup kitchen, or get involved with a church ministry to provide food in your community? And pray for those who are “losing big” despite living in a land of plenty.

P.S. I’d also appreciate your prayers as I travel to Texas this weekend to be with Max Lucado at Oak Hills Church.