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. ;)

The divorce from simplicity

Life in various parts of the "African Bush" is quite different than life in "The west". I love going to restaurants in the third world and my first question being "Do you have food today?" Or ordering a meal with an item such as...cheese, and about an hour and a half after ordering having the waiter come up to me to explain "Gulu's actually out of cheese." -Gulu? Not even just the restaurant but the entire city. lol (You think they could have noticed that an hour earlier)TIA. So now here I am, just arrived in London (one of my most favouritest of cities) and they are not out of cheese. Oh no, if you want even a slice you'll have to choose from a plethora of 100 different types of cheese. (Oh my goodness, I've been eating "The Real Yorkshire Wensleydale with cranberries" lol Odd but AMAZING) Want a cup of tea? What kind of tea? There are also 100 different types. What would you like in your tea? Small glass, tall glass, red glass, blue glass? (Seriously too much Dr. Seuss in this part of the world :) I am adoring it though. (Speaking of, I now average 7 cups of tea each day. Ya, it's good to be back) My heart seems to LOVE Africa more then any other place but I find I can feel just as at home in big city London as I do in a mud hut in Sudan. If that's possible. AND I've already bought two new pairs of shoes =) =)

Still processing things of course, which is not my favourite part of returning. (Oh the injustices.. lol) BUT I found a song that sums it all up PERFECTLY. =) I don't really know how I stumbled upon it but I think it is crucial for anyone traveling to, living in or coming from the, well, closest thing to what many describe as hell on earth. (But more accurately described as just 'Pre-Kingdom zones' ;)

So, from Exp.58's "Love Revolution" Conference in LA '07...The fabulous Brian and Katie with a little Charles...

Set your TiVo!

A note to all you "24" fans and lovers of popcorn...

We don't get tv in my end of the village ;) BUT apparently this latest season of "24" is about child soldiers in Africa!

For those missing the point, this is amazing because this coming spring I'll be working with GCM in Sudan helping to rehabilitate child soldiers into their villages.

Super readers digest version...
It's quite the issue in almost every war world wide as kids are forced to pick up arms to fight someone else's war. Usually when the babies are taken from the front lines and stripped of their beloved Kalashnikovs they're often sent back home with a small pat on the back and a hopeful "Good luck". With this as only the third year of peace in Southern Sudan not much has been developed to help the kids and the reintegration process is...lacking, taking it's toll on this generation of child fighters. (Rehabilitation nightmare, to say the least ;)

So this is where we will come in. Working with the kids post demobilisation we desire to love 'em back to life. haha In short.

So...24! With that said, I'm also moving back to America. I'm leaving Africa shortly (ya, dates still undetermined, maybe a few days...maybe a few weeks...TIA) where I'll be working with the GCM and Exp.58 team in LA to develop the project and give other people a chance to get involved.

It should be fabulous, to say the least ;)