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.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
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 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? :)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
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.)
Saturday, August 8, 2009
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
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
Thursday, August 6, 2009
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!!!
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!!!
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!!!
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