GCM Calendars!!!

Hey Guys!

Exciting stuff, GCM now has out 2010 12-month calendars! All the profits go directly to helping kids at risk around the world. To purchase your calendar you can either buy online at: http://www.joshua-seale.com/the-journal-blog/ or get it from me here in LA or when I'm in Canada (December 17-December 30)

I'll write what's going on with me in the next couple weeks!
X x

Giving Hope, Expressing Love, Extending Justice to the Nations -That's my find of Christmas gift!

Hey Guys! This is our amazing fundraiser! Let me know if you, your church or business want to get involved! It should be really fun and really great across the board (impacting orphans-prostitutes and those in war zones!)
You can contact me or GCM asap for more info!
Much much love,
Cass

The Giving Tree
Giving Hope, Expressing Love, Extending Justice to the Nations



This Christmas, give a gift like no other. Global Children's Movement a California based Not-for-Profit organization working with children-at-risk around the world would like to invite you to give a gift this year that will transform a child’s life and cheer their heart.

The Giving Tree project was started in response to meet very practical needs of children and families we’re working with in Kenya, DR Congo, Ecuador, and Thailand.

How The Giving Tree Project Works:

Your business, organization, church, or community group can host a “Giving Tree”. You provide a Christmas tree used for display, and we’ll provide the rest! Throughout communities “Giving Trees” will be displayed, and each tree will be adorned with hand-made ornaments that will be sold for various prices. Each ornament will have an attached tag that explains what the purchase price is going for. For example:

“$20—Five reading books for children in the DR Congo”
“$60—Send a child to school for a year”
“$10—A new pair of shoes for a street child”

If you would like to host a Giving Tree, you will collect all the proceeds made from the ornaments and turn in it after Christmas to Global Children's Movement. All ornament purchases are tax-deductable and we maintain a very high accountability process for all of our projects to be financially responsible and effective. For more information about Global Children's Movement please visit our website at www.gcmovement.org

Many community groups have asked if they can make their own ornaments—Yes! If your group would like to make your own ornaments and tags we have included a detailed price list for your convenience. Please contact us at admin@gcmovement.org with any questions.


This gift is no ordinary gift. Sure, it may just look like just a regular ornament that you’d hang on your tree, but it’s SO much more than that!

In the war torn DR Congo, in Central Africa only half of all children go to school. Of those that do, most are boys and only half of them will reach the fifth grade. (UNICEF)

With this Christmas decoration YOU are helping provide a child with a better future. Empowering them with education, to dream for a nation with peace and possibilities.

Not only that! Oh no, there’s more. On the Kenyan coast where prostitution cripples the lives of thousands of women, this gift helps those women find new means of employment and ensures their children are in good schools with full bellies.

And wait, we’re not finished. No longer are so many street kids rummaging through the garbage pile but with this gift YOU are helping provide them with a safe home, surrounded by loving care workers.

Pretty great ornament right? %100 of the proceeds raised from your gift go directly to one of these causes.

Giving Hope, extending Justice and expressing Love. That’s my kind of Christmas gift!

From War Zones to High Heels

I’m back! I’ve safely returned to LA. I am in one piece and very happy. My flight took forever but it was worth it in the end. :) I’m still stuck in jet leg however (fell asleep at 8pm last night and was up at 4:30am this morning) but culture shock hasn’t been a problem! Yesterday I was at my friends wedding. The reception took place at a GORGEOUS house in Orange County where we ate amazing cheeses and crackers, and goofed around on the tennis courts and putty green in the back yard. Visions of the dessert table will be imprinted in my mind for weeks. I did have to laugh as I dipped a strawberry in chocolate fondue and thought of the rice and bread I’ve been eating for weeks. Two very different worlds, but accepting that is half the battle.

I’ll be back in the west for about two months. The states until December 17th then I’ll travel back to Saskatoon, Canada for Christmas with my family. I’ll be back in LA for New Years and about a week after that I’ll start the journey back to Africa.

If you live in Saskatchewan or the LA area and want to have tea-there’s my schedule!

Things are pretty exciting. I’m still working on Africa stuff, just more the admin side. Perhaps mixing both worlds. Trying to get used to my favorite pair of black heels, I scribbled down fundraising ideas while strolling around the house. It’s just like riding a bike. (Except for the stilettos, those will take more getting used to. They’re like a unicycle) Now the only thing that gives away the fact that I’ve been in the bush a few months (besides the endless flow of stories) are the strange bites on my arms. And my back. They’re going away, but still quite itchy.

That deserves more explanation. See, it was the Sunday before returning to America while staying in Uganda, when I woke up in the middle of the night with my arms, ridiculously itchy. I’d been sleeping with anti-itch cream for months so I just lathered up and went back to sleep. In the morning before my shower however, I curiously peeked at my arm to see what had been the matter. Literally- I screamed. My arm was COVERED in little red dots. For the next few hours the swelling got worse. I tried to count them once and stopped at 57. (The left forearm alone). It was DISGUSTING. I went to the managers of the sketchy hostel I was staying at and they seemed more concerned then me. They had to fumigate the ENTIRE place just because of my bites. (Not sure that’s the accomplishment I make it sound to be)

But other than that, things are great. I’m thrilled to be back with loved ones and ready to celebrate the holidays!

To elaborate more on the fundraiser real quick… We’re looking at offering really neat Christmas gift ideas! So if you haven’t finished your Christmas shopping (which should be everyone except for my parents) then hold out a little longer! I hope to have details within the next week!

Not sure how many blogs I’ll write while I’m back. Might try to post some of the “Lost testimonies” or funny stories that if I don’t blog, will never get told. But keep checking here as I’ll update the important things and upcoming news, as two months will FLLY by! For now here are a few pics to give you more of a visual of my week of transition! :)

Bringin' some Kingdom in the IDP camps
Fabulous kids in the military barracks
Bites much? (that was when they FIRST appeared. you can't see really but my entire arm was so swollen!)This picture makes me laugh- we all look so... "placed"?
Tennis courts at their house!The happy GORGEOUS couple!

Here it goes!!

I’ve been trying to think over and over again of what to write. I can never seem to find the words though.

In the last few weeks I’ve collected some hilarious, very African, travel stories that would make you rotfl BUT they’re quite epic and I really haven’t been in the mood lately. I just got out of Congo. I’m in Rwanda staying with Melissa (TONS of laughs, in a real HOUSE with a HOT shower!!!) It’s fab. Right now we’re sitting by a gorgeous pool, surrounded by lush greenery, with a cup of tea trying to get some things done. I’ve been semi successful. The rain chased us inside, so now, trapped at a table in the restaurant, I guess I’m forced to finish my blog. (fyi- the tea is heaven. It came with a cookie on the side, ok I asked if they’d put a cookie on the side… and it tastes like a million bucks.)

So, this last Congo trip had many twists, turns and unexpected events. We arrived in Goma greeted with the repeated news that Mugunga IDP camp was empty. (The reason for our travel was to get clearance to work in the camp) I had heard this news before I even left Kenya but I honestly couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Empty? How could 20-30 000 people, who’ve made up Mugunga for almost three years, have all gone home in a month?? Seriously, it can’t be. Many IDP camps take YEARS to clear out. But as we toured Goma, talking with more and more people, it seemed to be true. Monday morning, bright and early (ha- actually cloudy and around noon) we headed out to see for ourselves. We arrived just in time to catch the tail end of various government workers celebrating the official end of Mugunga IDP camp. There was laughter and pats on the back, high fives almost. I picked my jaw up off the ground and dusted off the dirt so I could properly “congratulate” them. After getting their permission Sabrina pulled out her camera and we started walking around taking pictures.

Now, I’ve been warned by friends: “Those who leak Congo’s injustices, don’t work in the Congo.”

I’m not sure how much to say, or how to say it, but I’ve decided for now, a “blog” isn’t the best place to share all of my opinions. But I will state some facts:

Yes, Mugunga IDP Camp, is in fact, empty.
Yes, all 28 000 people (the last statistics we heard) went back to the bush in less than a month.
No, the bush is not safe.
Yes, the government was involved.
Yes, force was used.


Sometimes certain injustices are harder to deal with than others. This one definitely ranked high on the “difficult to handle” scale.

For the first week neither Sabrina nor I really knew what to do. We couldn’t cry, it felt deeper than that. Eventually we got it out but it seriously took a while. Lol And that’s all details I’ll share for now. If you want more, maybe email or over a large cup tea. (as I’m back in the states in less than a week!) ☺

After we realized our work in the IDP camp probably wasn’t gonna happen we starting plotting other ways to help. (aka – hung out on our faces. A LOT)
We visited another IDP camp that had no NGO or government assistance. It’s so hard to see sometimes. People living in “houses” the size of closets, held together by some tarp, old leaves and string. OI. They say two kids died every week from malnutrition alone. One baby we saw had half her face horribly burned from falling in a fire while her mom went to look for more food.

We did some great classes with the kids there and met with some leaders to pray for and encourage them as best we could. In my heart, of course, I secretly scouted the land for a place we could set up a “hall” like facility for feeding and more classes. Some people said by the time we come back though they’ll probably all have dispersed again. Suck.

So we started looking at where they’re all going. They’re IDPs. Displaced. They don’t really have a home or money to find a new one. It seems everywhere they go they’re either faced with extreme poverty, hunger and malnutrition, lack of education and health care or rebels.

So we went to the area in Goma, where many of them have relocated. The pastor we work with started a little school last month so we’ve come up with some brilliant plans to empower the community and provide STELLAR education, incorporated with Kingdom values. The program’s called “Excellence Rising” and I’ll have more info on it soon if you wanna get involved! (I also want to take Excellence Rising along with “bush outreaches” hehe to the villages…. But one-three projects at a time ;) (I know I said the bush isn’t safe BUT we spoke with the UN and they’ve so kindly offered a little military escort :)

As most of you know I LOVE justice. Like I really really LOVE it. I can spend hours dreaming of what justice would look like in various places around the world. And for Congo, one of the places justice is lacking most is with the military. Lol. Yup, the rebel soldiers. They’re “good” rebels though. (as in “apparently fighting for the good side”?)

We found out that again, roughly 30 000 of them are living in HORRIBLE conditions. The soldiers don’t receive a salary for their full time job so the poverty is ridiculous. There aren’t any schools in the camp so most of the children are uneducated and if you’re a female living there; you’re a HUGE target for rape and abuse. We heard several stories of little girls mostly 10 years old working prostitution among the barracks.

With that said, it seems like a perfect place for Kingdom. We were warned however that it’d be extremely difficult to get in. You have to write letters and meet with provincial leaders, then it takes time etc etc. We prayed though and gave it back to Jesus. Our team told him we were willing and if he wanted to open the door, we’d walk through it. Then we stepped aside and waited. In days, not only did we have clearance but a full open opportunity to go whenever we wanted in whatever capacity we wanted. (YAY!)

This is getting long but it’s still raining, so I’ll keep going.

This is when God’s love really gets me. Even among the rapists, the thieves and murders God’s love STILLLLLL, NEVER FAILS. It’s perfect. So we went and invited Jesus and he showed up. Sabri and I just couldn’t stop smiling. One soldier stopped us mid conversation and asked if we could pray for him cause He had “so much pain”. Of course we agreed and without missing a beat he fell to his knees lifting his hands. We released the power and love of Jesus and his whole demeanor changed! He said it felt like fire was flowing through his body and we could just see how in love and happy our God was. We played with the kids and fed everyone who showed up. They couldn’t seem more grateful to see us, (NOBODY works in the camp. No government agency or NGO for “obvious” reasons, pft.) and they invited us back to work however we want. ☺

So yes, life is good. Even in the midst of war, God’s love will always be enough, his hope will always sustain and his goodness will always empower.

We met with tons of different people; locals, government and UN officials and every time we would hear negative reports God would just whisper “Cass, this is their perspective, not yours, you have my point of view.” SO, we’re standing as “winnnnners” (lol for those get it ;) and refusing to be discouraged even when looking down the barrel of a gun. :)

Seriously it is still raining but my drink is gone and because it’s a nice place we only budget for one. :P Sorry it’s long but if you can believe it, I’m still cutting it short! ☺





Appendix: ;)
IDP- Internally Displaced Person
Mugunga- Large IDP Camp just outside Goma
NGO- Non-Government Organization

I love that love is perfect. Not necessarily the way WE love, but the way HE loves –perfect. No matter what we do, we can never make him love us less and no amount of striving will ever make him love us more. God just loves us-perfectly.

This is my favorite thing when traveling to a war zone.

“God loves you. Perfectly.” That’s enough.

I have no doubt in my mind that I’m God’s favorite. I live, move, and function from that place. Sure, I definitely haven’t mastered it, and sometimes I forget BUT only for a moment, and then I remember, that, OH! I am loved the most. ☺

It’s from that place, that I realize something….

Over a hundred thousand women have been brutally raped in the Congo.

+100, 000.

I can’t imagine. Thousands more live in fear, as it’s such a part of everyday life.

Now as confident as I am that I AM God’s favorite, I’m just as certain that every single one of those women, of those girls, is God’s absolute favorite too.

He loves them most.

But it goes on. Not only that, but without a doubt I also know that every single man, soldier, or rebel who did that to those beautiful women, they too are God’s favorite.

He loves them most.

That’s why I love war zones. The reason I love brothels, and how I can see him among the slave traders or even just “the homeless guy”.

Because if he loves them as much as he loves me then OF COURSE I have no problem running as fast as I can into the darkest parts of the world to fight for just one of them. I don’t mind risking it all if it would mean that they would get to spend forever and day with him, like I will. Cause that’s his joy. And that’s enough. Living for love.

Over a hundred thousand women have been brutally raped in the Congo. Oi.

“He who has been forgiven much loves much”.

It’s like he sets us up for redemption. What we think would be impossible, he plans on how to make it simple.

“Can a nation be changed in a day?” Can a woman be healed in a moment?

That’s why I love the Congo, because it’s a nation full of his favorites.

So, to give a little more understanding why I live in huts in Sudan, hang out with prostitutes in Kenya and work with IDPs in Congo. Pretty much… I just really love Jesus, and he really loves us. I think that covers it. (However I PRAY I’ll never have to do the hut thing again. Not a fan of the dirty, spider infested, human size rats and no privacy thing. I would, BUT I l-o-v-e the luxury of space and a place to plug in my laptop. ;)

Also I’m heading back to Congo this week. It was expected but decided really fast. We’re going to see if we can get the right clearances and paper work to feed some kids ;)

PLEASE be praying for favor, as we have to go through the government and UN and a few other guys. There has been a lot of corruption in the Congo and we don’t have time or money to submit to their bribes. SO… Jesus? :)

ALSO- I’ve been feeling sick the last couple days. I have a three-day bus journey ahead of me, and then a month’s workload that we have to cram into two weeks – I can’t be sick!!

If you’d like to donate to the trip and our desire to feed an army of kids and see a little redemption take place in a war zone, EMAIL! I’ll let you know how you can get involved.

But for now, I’d love some extra love and prayer as we head back to the bush. Will post the exciting news as it unfolds when we get there!

When Time Stands Still.

I’m bored. It’s been a….slow day and it’s now evening and I’m now in the mood to be productive. However, TIA (This Is Africa.) Once it’s dark it’s “dangerous” and as a young lady with pretty pale skin, I’m sorta under house arrest. Bah.

So I’m plotting. (Something I seem to do whenever I have too much time on my hands) How can I change the world? Jesus, what are your dreams for the brothels... for the street kids, for the widows? What do you want to do and how can I do that with you?

My latest schemes fall back to the commercial sex workers on the coast. How can we get them more jobs? How can we support them, lifting up their arms so they can fulfill their dreams? We’re hoping to partner with this organization that teaches salon. Lots of the girls really like doing hair and nails so it’d be perfect. BUT let’s go a step further, how can we take the girls working the sex market, and give them an opportunity to really make a difference to their community? What would that look like? So I’m dreaming and because I’m bored I’m going to verbally process those dreams in a blog. Haha. So bare with me.

If they’re going to have a salon, let’s make it the best salon. But how? If they’re going to sell chickens (what we’re hoping to do next) how can we have it so successful that the city says: “Man, I’m so glad your business opened up! I can’t even remember what we did before you.” Haha! I know. But these are my thoughts. My prayers I guess. I have a couple answers but I’ll throw it out to you guys, any ideas? What do you think?

In Congo we bought bags of charcoal (cause they do all their cooking over hot coals) and gave it to the widows. Now they go around selling it and are able to make a steady income to feed themselves and their families. They’re not relying on handouts they’re self sufficient, it’s great. But what else? How can we add to the quality of life to the people in war zones? Often becoming a widow can be almost like a death sentence in Africa. “A life with no man!?!??! How ever shall I survive!?” I’m serious tho. But how can we change that? How can we partner with the widows to see them thrive; happy and successful with who they are and where they’re at? :)


For the young adults in Congo we bought sewing machines. Now they can make clothes and do tailoring for money to get them through university and stuff. Self-sufficiency that promotes education and “hopeful futures”. Lol. One of my dreams for Mugunga IDP camp is to have a “sewing center”. We could buy maybe 20 sewing machines and keep them in our building at the camp. (“Our building” lol calling things that are not as though they were!) And then anybody who needs income can come and we’ll give them some fabric and they can sew some clothes. Then when they sell it they can give a small piece of the profits back for the use to the machines. (Like paying rent. It gives it value etc.) Then the profits can go to machine maintenance and maybe a group of orphans or something!

I dunno. Just thoughts. I had an epiphany tonight that “I should go to business school!!” Haha. Probably not, I don’t like business that much, I just love justice. And for a hungry family, a bag of beans isn’t enough. Mercy which is good. Great actually! But not enough. Or least I don’t think it is. There needs to be that partnership with justice. Cause when that bag of beans runs out then what? Why not empower them to be successful on their own?

How else can we change the world?

School systems! It’s been said that North and Eastern Congo is one of the worst places in the ENTIRE WORLD to be a woman or child. That sucks. They say because of the war a child has almost no chance at education, and if they do get the opportunity the schools are so terrible they don’t really learn anything. We did some teachings and games with a group of kids in this one community in Goma. The kids were SO violent and SO numerous. Hundreds and none went to school. (I think I blogged about it earlier –it’s where the riot broke out) So my idea? WELL… when we start working in Mugunga feeding the kids, we can also train the teachers. See Mugunga has thousands of people with many different professions, teachers, doctors, pastors, farmers, cooks, etc etc. SO, we gather the teachers and offer trainings. We teach them different teaching styles, how to handle kids with trauma, behavior issues, everything. Then when they’re ready to go back to their villages we go with them! We help set up a school giving all the kids in that area a change for education, empowering them to be the change that the nation is so desperate for! BRILLIANT yeah!??! That’s one of my favorites. Anybody want to come to Congo and implement it? Or fund it? :) :)


So there are a few thoughts that helped pass the time. Any input? Any volunteers? We not only need people on the ground in Africa but people mobilizing various things in America and Canada and donors. :) Both one time and monthly! :) :)

Well I think I’m gonna make myself a cup of tea and search the house for any left over chocolate. Oh to find a piece of hidden Toblerone stashed away for desperate times such as these… :)

doing life: bars and brothels

Ahhh! Jesus is so amazing I could burst.

A lil sick right now so my mind is fuzzy BUT here’s some fun from the last couple days…

So I’ve been back working in the bars and “brothels” this last week on the Kenyan Coast. (Not working working, but … ya) lol. I wanted to return to be with the girls who came out of prostitution last time to see how they’re doing and help them get settled in jobs that don’t require sex. :) I planned sort of a “surprise” visit to really see where the girls were at, so two days before traveling I called them and let them know my schedule. It was brilliant, within hours the whole community knew and the girls were calling me: “Sandra, Sandra! You are coming!!! KARIBU (welcome)!!!!” Instantly I became ecstatic. “If they’re calling, that means they haven’t returned to their old jobs!!!” YAY!!!
The 18 hour bus ride ahead of me suddenly didn’t seem that bad, oh the things we do for the joy set before us. :)
The next few days were amazing. Investing in relationship with these girls and meeting new ladies desperate for Jesus, and a lil life change. Fabulous.


The nights, as always, were spent mostly in the bars talking with current prostitutes. We had such a good time. Almost every girl wanted Jesus. I know, a little suspicious but His presence would fall so strongly at the tables, how could they resist? We’d talk, hang out and then they’d ask if they could meet him. I would try to talk them out of it at first, seeing if they really wanted him or if they just wanted to please the foreigner, but it couldn’t be done! They were just hungry for Jesus. During a conversation with one girl I felt a nudging from papa and started to prophesy over her. In seconds she started BAWLING at the table. Another girl, also sitting with us, was so undone by God’s love for the girl crying; she couldn’t hold back, “I’ve got to have him too!!”

So those were the nights, in the morning we’d follow up with a meeting. It was a chance for them to get to know Jesus more and plug into a community. (Eventually get alternative employment if desired… :) About twenty girls showed up! (I had maybe spoken with ten over the last few days?) They were so hungry for truth and love. One girl named Maggie, stayed after the meeting and confessed to being six months pregnant. Seriously one of tiniest girls I’ve ever seen. Through tears she explained her story:

Working in the commercial sex trade in Mombasa her life took a twist when she learned she was pregnant. Crap. She tried to have an abortion but it didn’t work. Covering it up as best as she could, Maggie kept trying to terminate the little life several times. Somehow (who knows how) nothing seemed to work though, so she ran away. She came to the city I was in, and has been working there a month. Living in a clubs supply closet and selling her body to eat, she was depressed and wanted to die. She was so precious though. When we met she made the decision quickly, she wanted God no matter what.

While talking in the restaurant the morning after, tears streaming down her face I had no answer but Jesus. I was out of money, I couldn’t offer her a job, and I was leaving that night so I couldn’t even offer her solid friendship. All I had was knowledge of a perfect father. Thank goodness that’s enough! After she finished I sat and inwardly started praying: “God… what do I do??” just then I heard the other girls pipe up. The ones that have only just come out of the trade themselves and are still babies in the faith, “You can stay with us! We’ll help you find a job!” Then the pastor with a large smile on his face: “And what a joy! A baby! We’ll help you get settled in a house for when the child arrives!” AW!! YAY!!! God’s so faithful!!

Later that day God amazed me, once again, as I had the privilege of working with our “head girl” to start our first business! Not chickens like I’d hoped (as the chicken market is down right now- guess they’re all in Ethiopia for the month?) So instead the girls now have a small clothing shop! Woo Jesus!

So that was that was a taste of the last week! Of course it had its bumps. My hotel was in the heart of the area I worked and INFESTED with bugs. I’d just laugh, as I knew it wasn’t time to get up in the morning if I could still hear the music from the clubs next door. (They usually didn’t close until 6 or 6:30am!) Not to mention I got sick the day after I arrived! It felt like I was like doing the entire week under water. :( haha.. But it was still great! I love seeing the extra element of God’s strength when I’m super weak. He’s so fab. :)

(Sorry it’s long but that’s the condensed version! If you’d like to get involved and invest in a business for ex-prostitutes please let me know!!! We’re looking for partners!!! :)

RaNdoM Stories!

It feels if I don’t write them somewhere I forget them!
So here are a few fun REALLY random stories of just how amazing Jesus is:

One day in Congo we were on our way to Mugunga camp. =) Our form of transportation, like most days, was public transit -a stuffed 14-passenger van. (that can hold up to 30 ppl!) This day was special though, unlike most days when I’m crammed in the back, THIS time I got to be crammed in the front (a little more leg room there!) The driver was on the far right, and then three of us closely cuddling on the left. Sitting there, I was practically on top of the middle guy and the end guy was practically on top of me. (Oh yes – so delightful!) Well, one time we had to switch positions a little and I noticed the end guy wasn’t moving his leg. So like little sardines in a can, I asked him what was the matter. He began to tell his story and I learned he was in an accident a year ago and still has pain and couldn’t move it. WELL, cornered!…sort of, we had all the time in the world to chat about God’s amazing love for people and I asked him if I could pray for him. “Now?” “Yeah!” He agreed and in no time was making attempts to unsquish himself to “test out” his leg.
Healed! Yay Jesus. Cause there’s no better time then hot and sticky on the way to an IDP camp. (And his name… Emmanuel. :)

Once in Uganda (while on the car theme) we were piled into a private taxi (thank the LORD!). It was raining and the roads were quite slippery, no worries, we’re in a car right? Sort of. As the rain got heavier a motorbike taxi in front of us lost control and crashed. “STOP!!!!” We screamed from inside the taxi as we all hopped out to make sure everyone was ok.
Not sure where the taxi guy went but the two ladies that had been on the back were distraught. “We need to get to the hospital! She’s dislocated her shoulder!” Well, I don’t know what a dislocated shoulder looks like, but I can say hers sure didn’t look good! Both women were in much pain and a little bloody so we asked if we could pray for them before taking them to the hospital! “Sure sure…” With the rain starting to fizzle a little we invited rain from heaven to come and heal the ladies. As their faces started to brighten we ran back to the car to scrap up any band-aids and tissue we could find. As we continued to invite Jesus to the scene of the accident we wiped up their blood and covered the open wounds with plasters. By the time we were finished the ladies were smiling and laughing. “We’re better. No pain! Don’t need the hospital anymore but thanks!” YAY JESUS!!!!! I love it when he shows up. So my favorite! ;)

And to top it off let’s move to Kenya… ☺ We were working on the coast in Mombasa at the time with a group of ex-prostitutes. We had been teaching on the Kingdom and how they are DAUGHTERS of GOD. That’s amazing! And that they have access to everything that’s in heaven. As a practical activity to demonstrate, we took them to the streets one afternoon to have them bring heaven. (Treasure hunting, for those familiar) They started by asking Jesus who to pray for and then went out to find them. One fun time we came across a lady and her baby. She matched the perfect description my friend had heard and we found out she was very sick with lung problems as were her kids. In fact she had just just returned from the hospital. So we gathered around them and the amazing daughters laid their hands on the sick. As we were praying I noticed the woman started to cry and cry and cry. When we finished I asked her what was wrong and she said “It’s gone! All my pain is gone! I can breath well without pain!” Healed! Then we prayed for her kids and the same happened with on of her boys. YAY JESUS!!! I love him….

So that’s fun. I realized today that most of my posts are rants and that I should switch it up with some glory story. Lol. So here are the odd ones – one from each country! :) Will share more with time…. :)

I’m in Uganda! I escaped with the team to a retreat center (Mto Moyoni!!) shortly after Congo to rest, relax and process some of the stories from the war zone. Upon arriving I felt like I had processed most the traumatic things we’d heard so I was excited to ask God for strategy on how to tackle the international problems we faced. :) It was amazing. Within the first hour of arriving God was speaking and had A LOT to say. But the strategy was different from what I expected:
“You’re my daughter. First and foremost, my girl.” =)
Uh! How much am I his favorite?!
Thousands of hungry people I want to feed, a million things that could be done and that I probably need to be doing, and his answer couldn’t have been more perfect.
Us. “This” is what always comes first. I LOVE this. You know when you feel like the most LOVED person that probably exists? That’s how he makes me feel all the time. For two days we sat, laughed, swam in the Nile and beheld a breathtaking garden. Just being. How often do we miss life by doing? By trying to “accomplish” or “achieve” when all we’re meant to do is love. Everything else can happen but from that place. I am so motivated to run. To dive, to go as fast and as hard as I possibly can and to see Mugunga IDP camp look more like Heaven than the current hell it resembles now. But presently all that he’s asking is for me to be. To rest and wait.
Perhaps I’m just lacing up my shoes, only time will tell but in perfect love I wait. In this love I trust and in this love I dream.

Imagine a Mugunga where skin diseases don’t exist.

An “IDP camp” that’s not synonymous with sickness.

Imagine that instead of seeing development take a halt due to the war, creativity breaks out, inventions start being formed, new types of music starts rising and the children learn to play again. They laugh from their bellies free from the sound of gunshots and the fear that dares to imprison them in silence.

It’s so close I can almost taste it. It’s heaven on earth and it’s getting thin over Mugunga. Or so I dream. And trust. =)

I wonder which comes first, the chicken or the egg? Dreaming or trusting? Is it in knowing his goodness and trusting him in his desire for a war ravished nation that we can believe for its transformation? Or is it in dreaming that there’s transformation for a war-ravished nation that leads us to trust him more for the impossible?

I dunno. Love! Haha. Love is always the answer. Receiving it in full then giving all you just got. “Us”. Everything is just an extension of that. (deep sigh) :)

Oh the injustice....

When the pain is too much, make pizza

What do I say? Today I heard stories of hungry widows, forgotten orphans and a family who ran 72 km with nine kids to escape the rebels. We were in the IDP camp again today listening to stories and loving on people and now I’m drained. By the time you read this I’ll probably have processed and found the “happy place” in Jesus but right now I’m still trying to even get the point of dealing with it. I’m still in the phase where your emotions can’t take it and fight to shut down. Your brain SCREAMS “Hey, this hurts WAY to bad, investing would cost WAY to much. STOP”
This is when truth over rides reason though and my will has to rise up and give in to Jesus. He’s enough. He is. End of story. The most common thing we hear among the 20 thousand people in Mugunga Refugee Camp is “We’re starving. There’s no work and no food. What do we do?” Talking with a woman in her shanty little tarp and banana leaf home we sat together on her bed. It was painful. Literally. Spiky volcanic rock with a UNHCR tarp on top I could feel the edges jabbing into my butt. Ok Jesus. You’re still good. You’re still enough. As I chat with a family a little girl in my arms dozens of kids surrounding us we could hardly hear the people talking over the coughing and hacking of the little ones around us. OK JESUS! I KNOW YOU’RE STILL GOOD. I Know you’re MORE than enough for Mugunga. And in that, his amazingness, we get to see him show up. We get to see him as the answer for the sick, the answer for the depressed. I love that place. I really do. As we walk between the rows and rows of white tarped “closets” I feel at home. Living from Heaven to earth in the midst of hell. Sometimes I have to fight the natural survival mechanism of shutting my heart down but when I chose to trust in his love even after the stories, I know life is still amazing.
Their eyes are hard, empty and hollow. But it doesn’t take much. When we sit with them and cry out for Jesus to come and sit with us suddenly a life in them that I never knew existed emerges from nowhere. But yet I wrestle. Mercy would be filling their stomachs today, justice would be empowering them to feed their stomachs tomorrow and the next day, and the next day. Right? What’s the strategy for 20 thousand hungry refugees whose homes are invaded with rebels? Jesus. Love. What does action look like? (And this is only one of 6 camps)

As my itunes scrolls through “random” and I listen and type and process and type, and Jesus and type I’ve found my hope again. It doesn’t take long usually, He’s just to good. To funny. I love that even after the hardest days he brings joy.
Today we had a party. Barely freshly showered from the layers of IDP camp guck and we decided to host a bunch of people for a birthday party. It was fabulous. Pulling out my domestic diva skills we through together pizza! (without an oven or dough!) It was actually REALLY good though!!!! I’m still in shock how we did it. (we’re that incredible) Oh the bliss. Oh the contrast. But still how much I delight in his joy.

Sometimes I literally feel like the luckiest person ever. I’m full of cheese which is fine because I’m just so in love. Lol. I get to not only know about a great God but I get to KNOW God. I get to be his best friend (his fav ;) and inherit the earth with him. Pretty much. :)
I see the disaster I see the ruin and hopeless that Congo tries to beat you down with and I can’t help but think, I get to know the one with the answer. I’m on his side and WE WIN. For the competitive side in me, that’s a good thing. :) Love is SUCH a powerful thing, and it’s great cause it’s so easy to see when you’re in a war zone.

One of my teammates Sabrina and I were working with the kids the other day. The rest of the team was preaching with the youth so everyone over 13 years old was gone and the two of us were left with 200 kids, a translator and a very small room. It was fine at first but there were some kids in the back being a little disruptive so no prob, we thought we’d sing a song and finish the lesson. Well as we did a song someone somehow shut the door and locked it. To be fair it was only a half a door but the kids went wild. Almost instantly a riot broke out and before we knew it we were in the middle of a brawl. Within about 30 seconds I heard a scream and one kid was down. As I worked on settling the crowd the child started throwing up blood. Stay calm stay calm. I tried Swahili, I tried French, I tried charades. What the heck just happened? Sabrina yells from across the room that she thinks the little girl went down and others were kicking her. As a pool of thick red blood formed on the floor I continued working crowd control and started comforting the child. Eventually she stopped throwing up, the doors were unlocked and we herded the children outside.


Stumbling out of the half finished cement room I walked over to another teammate who was talking with the pastor’s son. He had asked her something about education and as a teacher she was explaining the importance of kids going to school. “Not only does it teach them things for the future and provide job opportunities, but school teaches kids to think! It teaches them creativity and interaction with others. It gives them ideas and keeps them out of trouble…” I look around at the couple hundred kids now playing in the dirt around us. One little kid had a tight hold on my finger while a couple others giggled as they stroked the blonde hairs on my arm. Two Hundred kids and it’s just the close vicinity of the neighborhood. Most of the children originally came from the bush villages, fleeing the war and have just recently been settling in the city. All they know is war and fighting. Why should I be surprised at anything else? Now as their families attempt to start a new life and relocate in a safer location none of them are attending school.
One- there is no school, and two- the church tried to start one but had to charge to keep it going. The cost was $1 a month per child but 90% of the families couldn’t pay it. Hundreds of kids in the district. None are in school.
What does love look like for a neglected generation?....

Sometimes I just sit and look at Jesus. All I need is a glance, I don’t need to say anything he knows exactly what I’m thinking. How? What? Which? Should I? :)
How fast can I run and how big of a team can I run with? :)

We came home later that night and as we processed as a team it started to rain. We had just been praying that morning for a down pour and this was the first rain since arriving. We turned up the music and ran outside for a dance party. As we laughed and spun around on the volcanic pebbles I came back to that place. I am so lucky to be loved so well. Wet and exhausted we went inside and were greeted with electricity. (I am SO his favorite ;) Sometimes it’s the little things. I didn’t see any riots today. The water came on when I needed to shower and the store down the street was selling cheese. Life can get tricky at times yet I feel somehow I walk in perfection. Loved and in love. (sigh…..)
(There was a lot of talking between the lines this post. Maybe only those who know my “stories” will get it and so for those who do, what do you think? Next summer? :)

I just finished writing about this for a class assignment so you’re getting sloppy seconds but I have to say something.
Congo is going amazingly though this week we’ve been introduced to the countries IDP camps…Now I’ve been to IDP camps before. Tons of poor housing an arms length away from each other, stories of unimaginable horrors. But no matter how many times I hear it, it never gets easier. Especially here. Day one we went to listen. See for ourselves what’s going on and how we might be able help. It’s been a few days now and I feel I’m still shocked and processing.
We met first with a medical director who described the six different camps in two different districts. The biggest camp he said has 26 000 people (as of May) and that was the one we’d be visiting that afternoon. As we approached the camp entrance I already started to feel sick from seeing the white “houses” lined up as far as you could see. Their huts are make shift, fragile little creations about the size of Smart Car. Ripped “UNHCR” tarp, twigs, banana leaves and rope hold it together though you dare not sneeze in close proximity in fear of blowing it in.
We arrived and were greeted by laughing kids and cautious mothers. Taken directly to the medical facilities we got more of the details on the peoples health. “Ninety percent of the kids are malnourished” the chief doctor tells us. “And the extra food they’re receiving to help with growth will be cut off in December.”
As we pass through the rows of huts, tents… shacks… whatever they’re called, we meet the sweetest people. Smiling and welcoming us into their “closets” we practice our Swahili. Every family has similar things to say. “We’re hungry. We haven’t eaten today and there’s no water.” Some women grab their breasts saying “There’s no milk! There’s no milk! How can I feed my baby when I have no food and I can’t make milk.” World Food Program is responsible for feeding but only give 6 kilos of rice and 6 kilos of bean to each person for two weeks. (bout a cup a day) For those going on their third year in the camp they’ve had no other nutrition besides beans and rices since their arrival. As we continue to an open field of loose dirt a crowd forms and a mob of children lead us to the high place for a better view. A hill just next to the camp we can see everything. From the top you can almost go 360 degrees and see nothing but torn tarped homes. However the kids are smiling. Laughing and dancing we snap photos of their unforgettable faces. They stroke our hands, arms, a couple of kids point with inquisitive faces at the ring worm on my left arm. Lol. It was such a perfect time. It was like I got to walk with Jesus himself. Amazing. I get to hold his favorites and love of the very ones that heaven aches for. I get to get dirtier than I ever thought possible, haha. but the smell I left with was all worth it.
As we were leaving we were told “White people come. Then they leave. And nothing changes” Will you help us lobby the NGO’s? Will you help us feed these people when the programs drop?
We get in the mini bus and fighting back tears, start to wave goodbye. But before our vehicle pulls away a man runs up to the window and starts introductions. “Hillary Clinton is coming here tomorrow! Will you be around? Can you join in the meeting?” WHAT!?!? As in Bill’s wife? SURE! We’d love to! What a funny coincidence! We finally start up and half way down the road are able to form sentences after the shock of our day. We returned the next day but found out her visit was only going to last 15 minutes and security was to tight for us to stay.
Not sure my emotions are more flared about her “15 minute photo opp.” or the fact that we didn’t get to meet her. ;)
Now as the time passes our faces start to mirror the imprint of the floor as we search out solution. Mercy isn’t enough. There needs to be JUSTICE partnered with it. Because they deserve that.
It’s funny as I pursue answers to the many of the questions and I feel I’ve forgotten what impossible looks like. I know, I explain the most horrible scene I’ve witnessed, more hopelessness than I could have imagined. Which is worse, their living conditions or that the world is doing nothing about it? But in my heart I KNOW God is good. And in his ABSOLUTE goodness, I KNOW there is a solution and I KNOW that he loves to give it to to his kids.

Ending on a good note….We saw lots of women healed the other day in our widows meeting. It was fun.

IF YOU WANT TO HELP WITH THE REFUGEES!!! –Email the GCM admin team and we’ll get you the info for donations. admin@gcmovement.org.





(Pics from the camp. -Super cute kids. Top notch photo project. And the top view of a portion of the camp.)

Congo time

And I’m in Congo! So much to say but I’ll never say it all so I won’t even try to get it all in. I call yesterday “widows and war stories”. First thing in the morning my team piled into a car way to small for us. Two pastors in the front seat, three of us in the first row and couple more snug in the fetal position in the “back”. The trip to meet the ladies wasn’t long but it wasn’t on a road either. An active volcano, just outside the city, last erupted in 2002 and covered the town in lava. Now seven years later the people have managed to build on top of most of the rock however, for those of you who haven’t built on lava rock before, it’s not an easy task. And without money for roads, driving on it can be an exhausting adventure in itself.
Anyway, not the point. We went to the widows and I’m just shocked at their everyday lives. How they survive is… Jesus. The country has no money. What money it does have goes straight to the hands of the already wealthy. The government doesn’t pay salaries to pretty much anybody so getting a job is extremely difficult and keeping the job practically impossible. But these women welcomed us with song and dance, smiles stretching across each of their faces despite their current situation. We “evaluated their needs”, encouraged them and prayed for their bag business (which is another story) and now we sit and process to see how we can bring justice to their poverty.
ANYWAY, boring stuff. I was going to tell some of the war stories that we heard, advocate for ppl etc. etc. but I didn’t finish writing on time and now I’m at the internet café and I’ve got like 30 seconds. (not literally but I won’t get into it :)
Things in Goma are so different from what I remember. In Bukavu, the city at the bottom of the lake, there were so many more soldiers, more UN vehicles. Here it’s much less obviously from first impressions that just 5 months ago it was in war. However safe we are though it’s definitely more limited. Just outside the city boundaries is rebel territory and by leaving the confines of Goma you’re risking rape, mutilation or death. Harsh I know, but I’m not even being dramatic! The people live with SUCH fear. (If you know me you KNOW within the first few days I brought up the idea of venturing out there to work in the villages but the idea didn’t even get a second thought. Lol. I can’t imagine why…)
Oh! Internet time is up!
I'll post something good next time.

X x
Cass

Night life with a twist

It’s the middle of the night. Literally. I’m too exhausted for words yet it feels there’s an overflow that I simply can’t turn off. Every time I close my eyes the overflow shows up in pictures, some sort of injustice painting the canvas of my dreams.
We’ve just arrived in a new city, a beach town, away from last weeks party town where we were working with prostitutes and ex-commercial sex workers. I’m excited as we have three full days to rest and process everything that just happened (And only a stones throw from one of the whitest sand beaches you’ve ever seen!) Sure our lodging is a dive but at under 10 dollars a night with practically an ocean view… it’s worth every penny not paid!

Last week was spent with prostitutes in pubs and bars. It’s hard to explain but here’s a little to give you a picture. Before I say more though, can it just be said, I’ve never known Jesus to be SWEETER? Every time I see horrific things in humanity I see more of his beauty. That he never looks away and continues to love us through the worst of the unimaginable. It’s unbelievable. I think I will be forever shocked at his love and am CONSTANTLY amazed at how we’re each perfectly and dearly his absolute favorites.


So yes, I’m trying to process in a hurry to get ready for Congo and so still trying to sort through my emotions. The faces, the stories. Girls not much older than me, some a few years younger, who know more abuse than I hopefully ever will. The injustice is like a slap on the face and I’m cornered again by this battle against EQUALITY.
Since when did the life of a woman compare in value to that of a street dog? If they eat or don’t eat, it’s of no matter. Kicked, abused, knocked up or bleeding, nobodies doing the double take. Such a high price was paid but somehow we miss how much they’re worth.
Whether it’s a thriving industry or one girl mistreated why is there not more action to stop the abuse on his favorite ones?



Our mornings were taken up with meetings with ex-commercial sex workers (to be politically correct) afternoons -meetings, and then evenings with current prostitution in the bars. It’d start with us heading into these manky “clubs” where a man goes to buy a woman. Slight twist compared to how I did this stuff in Thailand… this time our ex-commercial sex worker friends didn’t want to miss the fun! No pimps here to worry about and they refused to let us go alone. (I know, the method is… different, we’re still working out strategies but for now that’s how it was done) and it was AMAZING.
To see these girls who used to be the ones to sell themselves, now radically testifying to other girls currently selling themselves, how Jesus has so transformed their lives. IT WAS RIDICULOUS. I was trying to act natural but felt like anything but. It was the most exciting thing to see God’s presence fall so heavy over the loud music and drunken dancers and the girls unable to resist and give their lives fully to Jesus. They were so hungry and it was so “easy”. We’d barely say anything and they’d repeatedly ask us how to have Jesus, even knowing that in doing so they’d have to drastically redirect their lives. At one point it probably sounded like I was trying to talk them OUT of this life change cause I didn’t want them to just “pray a prayer” as a quick fix. But oh no, no matter what I said these girls were HUNGRY. The next day they were at our “Discipleship meetings” and had testimonies how Jesus was encountering them. I LOVED IT.

Violet.
A single mom with a story like many women here. Jobless, hungry, desperate and at the end of her rope. She came to the coast with a promise from a cousin that she’d find work, however after several months of still no job and two hungry babies at home she felt she had no other option. She started at a strip club dancing naked. Now in a beautiful long dress sitting across the table sharing her story, Violets faced beamed with joy. She went on to describe horrific stories of moving from dancing to “pure sex” with tourists as the “money is better with foreigners”. Abused and raped she now exuded life as I fought back tears. Over the next few days we got to know Violet quite well. Traveling with her to the streets to pray for the sick and prophesy over strangers and later to the bars as I had the privilege to see her boldly tell current prostitutes her stories and see them radically touched and transformed by the Jesus that she carried.
Working with these girls it was a neat situation as I’m broke. (In the natural :) My team was also broke AND all the project money we’ve been saving was going to Congo so the budget for the coast: next to nothing. Such a perfect opportunity though as we taught the girls with all our hearts “There is everything you’ll EVER need in Jesus in Heaven! If you EVER need anything just ask popa!” And as we worked with these girls getting out of prostitution, plugging them into a community we really got to see God show up.
Once Violet told a story of not having enough money to send her daughter to school. As men came she turned them away even though she didn’t have another source of income. Knowing, believing and totally TRUSTING that God was big enough to provide like a good daddy she prayed and went to bed. The NEXT day to her excitement someon came and offered to pay for her daughter’s tuition! Yay Jesus! Like I said. SOOOO sweet. Every girl seemed to ooze stories of his softy heart as He showed up again and again reminding them that they were his favorites and giving real examples of how He provides.

More stories but maybe for another day!

I really loved those girls and what God’s doing in the bars on the coast. I’m now working with some of them and hope to go back in September to continue updates and supporting them as they shift their lifestyle. Also encouraging those now working with the girls as it’s a big job! ☺

If you’re interested in getting involved in the projects with prostitutes (both current and those coming out!) send me an email and I can get you more info! We’re also looking for supporters to get the girls in school for them to eventually become self sufficient (now they just do small jobs like washing clothes.)

And now… ONTO CONGO!!!

Night life with a twist

It’s the middle of the night. Literally. I’m too exhausted for words yet it feels there’s an overflow that I simply can’t turn off. Every time I close my eyes the overflow shows up in pictures, some sort of injustice painting the canvas of my dreams.
We’ve just arrived in a new city, a beach town, away from last weeks party town where we were working with prostitutes and ex-commercial sex workers. I’m excited as we have three full days to rest and process everything that just happened (And only a stones throw from one of the whitest sand beaches you’ve ever seen!) Sure our lodging is a dive but at under 10 dollars a night with practically an ocean view… it’s worth every penny not paid!

Last week was spent with prostitutes in pubs and bars. It’s hard to explain but here’s a little to give you a picture. Before I say more though, can it just be said, I’ve never known Jesus to be SWEETER? Every time I see horrific things in humanity I see more of his beauty. That he never looks away and continues to love us through the worst of the unimaginable. It’s unbelievable. I think I will be forever shocked at his love and am CONSTANTLY amazed at how we’re each perfectly and dearly his absolute favorites.


So yes, I’m trying to process in a hurry to get ready for Congo and so still trying to sort through my emotions. The faces, the stories. Girls not much older than me, some a few years younger, who know more abuse than I hopefully ever will. The injustice is like a slap on the face and I’m cornered again by this battle against EQUALITY.
Since when did the life of a woman compare in value to that of a street dog? If they eat or don’t eat, it’s of no matter. Kicked, abused, knocked up or bleeding, nobodies doing the double take. Such a high price was paid but somehow we miss how much they’re worth.
Whether it’s a thriving industry or one girl mistreated why is there not more action to stop the abuse on his favorite ones?



Our mornings were taken up with meetings with ex-commercial sex workers (to be politically correct) afternoons -meetings, and then evenings with current prostitution in the bars. It’d start with us heading into these manky “clubs” where a man goes to buy a woman. Slight twist compared to how I did this stuff in Thailand… this time our ex-commercial sex worker friends didn’t want to miss the fun! No pimps here to worry about and they refused to let us go alone. (I know, the method is… different, we’re still working out strategies but for now that’s how it was done) and it was AMAZING.
To see these girls who used to be the ones to sell themselves, now radically testifying to other girls currently selling themselves, how Jesus has so transformed their lives. IT WAS RIDICULOUS. I was trying to act natural but felt like anything but. It was the most exciting thing to see God’s presence fall so heavy over the loud music and drunken dancers and the girls unable to resist and give their lives fully to Jesus. They were so hungry and it was so “easy”. We’d barely say anything and they’d repeatedly ask us how to have Jesus, even knowing that in doing so they’d have to drastically redirect their lives. At one point it probably sounded like I was trying to talk them OUT of this life change cause I didn’t want them to just “pray a prayer” as a quick fix. But oh no, no matter what I said these girls were HUNGRY. The next day they were at our “Discipleship meetings” and had testimonies how Jesus was encountering them. I LOVED IT.

Violet.
A single mom with a story like many women here. Jobless, hungry, desperate and at the end of her rope. She came to the coast with a promise from a cousin that she’d find work, however after several months of still no job and two hungry babies at home she felt she had no other option. She started at a strip club dancing naked. Now in a beautiful long dress sitting across the table sharing her story, Violets faced beamed with joy. She went on to describe horrific stories of moving from dancing to “pure sex” with tourists as the “money is better with foreigners”. Abused and raped she now exuded life as I fought back tears. Over the next few days we got to know Violet quite well. Traveling with her to the streets to pray for the sick and prophesy over strangers and later to the bars as I had the privilege to see her boldly tell current prostitutes her stories and see them radically touched and transformed by the Jesus that she carried.
Working with these girls it was a neat situation as I’m broke. (In the natural :) My team was also broke AND all the project money we’ve been saving was going to Congo so the budget for the coast: next to nothing. Such a perfect opportunity though as we taught the girls with all our hearts “There is everything you’ll EVER need in Jesus in Heaven! If you EVER need anything just ask popa!” And as we worked with these girls getting out of prostitution, plugging them into a community we really got to see God show up.
Once Violet told a story of not having enough money to send her daughter to school. As men came she turned them away even though she didn’t have another source of income. Knowing, believing and totally TRUSTING that God was big enough to provide like a good daddy she prayed and went to bed. The NEXT day to her excitement someon came and offered to pay for her daughter’s tuition! Yay Jesus! Like I said. SOOOO sweet. Every girl seemed to ooze stories of his softy heart as He showed up again and again reminding them that they were his favorites and giving real examples of how He provides.

More stories but maybe for another day!

I really loved those girls and what God’s doing in the bars on the coast. I’m now working with some of them and hope to go back in September to continue updates and supporting them as they shift their lifestyle. Also encouraging those now working with the girls as it’s a big job! ☺

If you’re interested in getting involved in the projects with prostitutes (both current and those coming out!) send me an email and I can get you more info! We’re also looking for supporters to get the girls in school for them to eventually become self sufficient (now they just do small jobs like washing clothes.)

And now… ONTO CONGO!!!

The Chocolate or the Nut?

I'm back!

As most of you know, June 13th I was to be heading back to Africa. Spiders and dirt STILL filling the crevices of my two jumbo sized suitcases (from my last trip) and still stuffing the bags full of things on the way out the door (it all came together a little fast) my African journey continued. The plan had been to hook up with a professional photographer in Uganda later that week that had offered to do pro-bono work for GCM but in true “this is my life” fashion… two days before the trip, they bailed. Well, bailed sounds harsh. They “changed their plans and left me out of their new ones”. J She felt the trip would be to dangerous and that it wasn’t for her. Which is totally fair, and I understand her concern. HOWEVER I was to be on a plane in 48 hours to meet her.
Suddenly I was confronted with a new reality, I needed a miracle and the trip hadn’t even started. Where, what and in which country would I be working in this month?? But not only that, I had the choice, would I let this steal my joy and ruin my week? A project that was high on my excitement list and a friend to travel the country side with had just be erased from my day book, now what?
As I putted through the airport an hour before departing LA I got my answer. Nothing, NOTHING, can steal my joy.
It was one of those moments where I realized just how much my happiness is not founded on my circumstances, or if I have or haven’t a plan in front of me, I get to laugh through the roughest of times. So crucial to be reminded how much happiness comes from the fact that I am loved . Completely loved. And because I am so ABSOLUTELY ridiculously loved, I in turn give my life to love and trust- worry free.
Now I can’t really say I was doing cartwheels down the moving side walk between gates 101-102 BUT it was the neatest feeling that I have trouble putting words to. I was just so… content. And with my life in total limbo without a clue as to what awaited me upon arrival, I was just so solidly HAPPY. Lol. Now, I still have a long way to go in this adventure of living with absolute joy no matter what I’m confronted with but in that moment I remembered that I am so stable and satisfied, simply because I am rooted in Love. Lol. His love.
Ha. Seems like such a small insignificant piece when I think about what I’m embarking on… child soldiers in Congo, trafficking in Kenya but if it matters to me, it matters to him! And if you can’t get joy when a “job falls through” how are you suppose to get joy when the rebels come… JK! Ah ha… ha… But seriously it’s gonna be a good summer.
As of right now the “plan” is: Uganda in June, Kenya for July and DR Congo in August. Focusing on training kids and leaders, super focused on searching for justice and hopefully implementing mercy (aid and relief) AND developing a new photography project with Congolese street and village kids. On the side I’ll also be taking writing courses online for personal development and such. SO busy times ahead… J

And finally, as I sit waiting for the shower still DISGUSTING from travels, I look at an oversized bag of trail mix as an alternative to beans and rice for lunch, and I get to decide,
Chocolate or Nut?
Joy or sadness?
Passively accepting what’s in front of me or actively pursuing the freedom I know is available for myself and others?

Sometimes we forget how impacting our "inner yes" really is. ;)


(p.s. – besides cashews I’m not a big “nut” fan but rather a firm believer that they should increase the amount of M&M’s in the standard trail mix. ;)