So I haven't posted a "Cribs" video in a while, but here's a look at where we've been living in hot, hot Thailand... think of Houston in mid-July, then take away all forms of air conditioning, and then you might have sort of an idea of what it's like here
What would you do if you were born a woman in Thailand? Where women are considered second-class citizens, where they believe as Buddhists that you must have done something wrong in a previous life to be born a woman, where the financial responsibility of the family is the burden of the women.
What would you do if you were uneducated and poor, and everyone in your family was looking to you as the provider?
Where would you turn?
Would you work 3 jobs to make ends meet?
Would you sell everything that you owned?
Would you consider selling your child because it would mean one less mouth to feed?
Or if it was a daughter, would you sell her virginity to the highest bidder regardless of her age?
Would you become a prostitute yourself?
The women that I have met here in Phuket on Bang La road over the last week and a half all share a similar story.
It is a story that gets passed down from generation to generation.
It is a story that has become the “norm”.
It is a story that has become culturally acceptable… worse it has become expected.
It is a story that too many people are ignoring.
It is a story about a girl who is desperate, who is alone, and who believes that she is only worth 300 baht (the equivalent of about $10) for the detestable and degrading things that she can do with her body.
It is a story of a girl who came from a city or village in the north of Thailand looking for a job, looking for hope, looking for a way to help her family… and she got sucked in by the bright flashing lights, the empty promises from men of a better life, and the money.
She starts off shy and reserved and withdrawn with her head down.
Then she begins to learn how to work the crowd, to pull people into the bars, to smile and say welcome.
She learns how to put on an act, to play the games, to say what she thinks you want to hear.
She listens to lies that she is worthless, that no one will ever love her, that there’s no hope of redemption, that she is trapped.
This is also the story of a girl who once believed those same lies, who looked in the mirror and criticized every inch of her body, who considered herself damaged goods.
It is a story that involves self-mutilation, drugs, depression, and an eating disorder.
But it is ultimately a story of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
It is a story that tells of how He pulled her out of that pit of despair, broke down the strongholds in her life, showed her the truth, set her free from her past, told her she was a blessed daughter of the Most High, made her into a new creation, turned what the world intended for evil into good, showed her unconditional love, and even called her on a mission trip to the nations to spread His majestic name.
It is a story of the redemption, restoration, and healing that has brought me to Thailand, to this street, to these girls.
I want to pass on my story so that others might have hope, might hear the truth, might feel real love, might be saved, might see the one, true God who is living in me.
I want the Lord to come in to the lives of these girls here because when He enters the story there is overwhelming VICTORY!
Here is a short video that my teammate Emily put together about the streets of Bang La.
I hope it gives you a better idea of the enemy that we are up against. Please pray for big things to happen in the lives of these girls. Our God can do more than we can ask or even imagine…
Only He can bring hope and healing to this dark street.
My time in Africa has been absolutely amazing and I can’t believe that it’s already time to move on to the 4th and final continent.
Here are some “firsts” that I have experienced over the past 3 months.
The FIRST time I…
Used my tent and my hammock Spent Christmas without my family Attended a candlelit Christmas Eve service of communion and carols while sitting on the floor Rode in the back of a police paddy-wagon
(one night they were our ride home from town because none of the taxis would go out to where we lived) Ran a 10k – Sabrina Love Ocean Challenge – with Joshua and Cory Ocean kayaked Bungee jumped off a bridge 216m high Saw the “Southern Cross” in the night sky Played Net ball… it is a lot like basketball, but without the dribbling Touched a hammerhead shark… maybe I should mention that it was dead Saw the “Big 5” on a safari… elephant, rhino, lion, cheetah, water buffalo Had my birthday in another country Went on a “date” to the gas station because there is literally nothing else to do Had a troop of monkeys living in my backyard Drank fresh coconut water Knew someone to who had Malaria… Kursti is fully recovered now Rode a bus with a goat stowed under the seat… it was a gift we brought home from out in the “bush” Had a swing dancing lesson… given by my teammate Ruth Was sitting in a hammock when the tree branch broke Had to boil drinking water Laughed hysterically while star gazing Hoed a 40x12m area of ground to make a garden plot… with only the use of hand tools Spoke a language where you sound like Sid the Sloth (from Ice Age) and that had clicks instead of “C”s Killed 16 black widows Returned glass coke bottles to the store for a refund Attended church in a tent Saw so many outie belly buttons Stood outside during a storm to watch the lightening flash across the sky Witnessed a teenage boy attempt to play soccer in nothing but a shirt and shoes Cut grass with a machete Showered with a bat… it lived in our bathroom Got to drive on the left side of the road Sat under a mango tree and discovered what I want to be when I grow up
It is the first time in my life that I am discovering for myself that my God is so abundantly loving, awesome, miraculous, powerful, and endless. I’ve heard it my whole life and read about it, but now I am actually experiencing it firsthand.
Here's a glimpse of some of the faces and ways that He showed up in Swaziland.
This month (mid-January to mid-February) we have been living and working with an organization called Beacon of Hope located in Machava, Mozambique. Our contact, Angie Wheeler, is amazing... first of all because she is from Texas, but mostly because she has an amazing heart for the Lord and a great love for her "boys".
Angie was first called to Mozambique in 2000 to serve as a nurse, but God had a bigger plan. As she worked in a children's center clinic, she began to have a heart for the youth. God gave her the vision of a house with a garden. a place where teenagers could gain life skills through loving relationships and continued discipleship. In September of 2002, Angie officially launched Beacon of Hope - Africa.
Today Beacon of Hope - Africa is in its 10th year of ministry and each January welcomes 10 teenage boys into the Hope House. The students participate in a three-year program and are trained in Bible, academics, and a trade. Angie believes in providing skills without giving a handout and upon graduation, the boys are expected to find a job and build a life for themselves.
In the future, Beacon of Hope - Africa plans to reach out to the community by sharing the Gospel through sports programs, evangelism, and medical clinics. It is our goal to give hope and love to those who need it most.
It has been such a blessing to be able to come along side of her and this ministry and be a part of their lives.
Life in the tiny town of Sistarovat, Romania is pretty slow... considering only about 200 people live here... but working and living at the Seventh Springs Christian Camp has kept us quiet busy.
There aren't any children here at the camp now, but we are working hard to make sure that the camp looks nice for when they do arrive in the summer. We have been burning grass, raking leaves, trimming bushes, painting room, doors, pipes and gates, moving wood piles, and just cleaning up in general.
This month we are living in Elbasan, one of the largest cities in Albania. It is located in the center of the country. They call this "eagle country", but the only ones I have seen are on their flag. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Eastern European geography, Albania is north of Greece, south of Macedonia and Montenegro, and west of Italy across the Adriatic Sea. So it has a very Mediterranean feel and has been largely influenced by Turkey. A large majority of the population here is Muslim and the Christians we have met are typically first generation believers.
We generally walk everywhere…my pedometer has been working overtime… but those who do drive, travel in style. The most common car on the street is the Mercedes, including taxis and even delivery trucks. When we go shopping for groceries, we usually have to make about five separate stops in order to get everything we need. There is no Wal-mart or one stop shopping, but I love it. We go to the Super Bliri (it is kind of like a mini grocery or corner store), the meat market (which carries whole lambs, including the head), the cheese/milk store (which sometimes has an actual cow standing out front), the bakery (which is getting the best of me because all of the desserts are so good and I want one of each), and finally the fruit and vegetable stand (there is one on every corner). My new favorite fruit is a hurma. It’s yellowish-orange in color and it is so good. That is unless you get one that isn’t quite ripe and in that case one bite will dry out your entire mouth. And my other new favorite is the “fast food” delicacy called a Sufllaque. (It is a bit like a Shwarma.) It is a pita filled with some kind of meat, typically pork, which has been cooked on one of those large spinny things and then is thinly sliced off. It is all topped with french fries and a delicious white sauce. And if that wasn’t enough, at some of our favorite places they also add tomatoes and lettuce as well as ketchup and mustard. It is too big to get your entire mouth around, but luckily they serve it with a tiny plastic fork. Basically, it’s a sinfully wonderful smorgasbord and it’s a very good thing we walk everywhere.
The team is split up and living in two locations. Jenna, Molly, Ben, and Joshua are living at a small kish or church called Jesus Brought Us Together. Kursti, Ruth, and I are staying with our female contact, Anxhela, and her cousin, Nertila, at their cozy two bedroom apartment. It definitely feels and looks like what you would expect of Eastern Europe. First off, we live inside "the wall" which is probably the remnants of an old city wall or castle. Secondly, there are small alleyways and back streets that feel like an endless labyrinth, and at any moment Jason Bourne might coming running around the corner as he tries to evade the local authorities (that is from The Bourne Identity for those of you who never saw the movie). As you walk through the city, the streets are lined with an assortment of eclectic items. There is the lady that roasts ears of corn and hazelnuts in her little cooker, the men selling Coke bottles filled with what I’m guessing is olive oil, the little old ladies knitting pot holders, and my personal favorite, the man sitting with his scale… still not quite sure if it is intended for people or something else. I also love to see the large gatherings of old men who are sitting in the park playing chess. Before coming here, I’ll admit I knew very little about the people and culture, but I love it here and would love to come back one day!
Here’s a short video to give you a better picture of what our life looks like.
This month we have been partnering with Nacer Homes, which is an amazing ministry that provides homes for children in Bolivia. There are a total of 5 homes... and throughout the month we have helped in some way at each of the homes.
How long, O Lord, must I wait?
My voice is throbbing inside my chest.
I ache because of the fire that spreads, crushing the spirits of others.
The spark can be the slightest tinge of abruptness in my tone and sometimes I don’t even see it ignite.
I want my words to be a sweet sound, I want my mouth to be a fountain of life, and I desperately want to change,
But my tongue continues to be like a sword, piercing and hurtful.
I want to speak life and bring healing with my lips,
But they continue to contaminate my intentions.
I can feel darkness setting in around me and I long for the light of morning to break.
My tongue is a small part of my body, but it continues to spread poison.
I cannot tame it alone.
Diminish the sharpness, soften the edges of my words that sting and damage others.
Let the sounds of my mouth echo the love that is in my heart.
I am well aware that the way I say things can be a little bit too direct and often rough around the edges. Maybe it comes from my years of teaching and refusing to put up with the attitudes and excuses of the 600+ students that I taught. Or maybe it developed as a defense mechanism at an early age to shut people out before they had a chance to reject me and hurt me… but whatever the deeper cause is, I knew before coming on The Race that changing my tone had to be something I worked on. I made it a goal for this trip because I could foresee how living with teammates in tight spaces for extended periods of time with all of their “stuff”, both material and emotional, mixed in with my stuff would not only stretch me and force me to grow, but would also take me far from my comfort zone and sometimes bring out the worst in my tone.
I’ve prayed fervently, I’ve read every scripture that pertains to the mouth and the tongue (multiple times), I’ve asked teammates for feedback, tone checks, and accountability, but nothing I do seems to work. I’m frustrated and I feel helpless, like it’s never going to improve. I have ridiculous thoughts that I should stop talking all together or cut out my tongue… that way I’ll never carelessly say anything hurtful. I’ve considered just giving up.
But the other part, the determined, unrelenting side, refuses to be silenced. I know that the Lord has given me a powerful voice and He intends for me to use it. Not only the words of my mouth, but also the way that I deliver it, just might be the thing that helps someone realize their potential… or that replaces lies with truth… or that shows others that they too can have a strong, empowered voice for the Lord. I know I will never be a gentle and tender, soft-spoken girl because that’s not who I am, but I want to use the voice that God has given me to bring laughter and joy, to build others up with encouragement, and to boldly bring His kingdom to earth.
Thus far, I’ve attempted what I thought would work… but if I could do it on my own, why would I need the Lord? How would that bring Him glory and honor? How would that testify of His wonderful power and might? Maybe the Lord desires for me to stop doing and striving, and instead to simply trust, to let go, to find rest in Him, to wait upon His timing, then I will be able to boast in Him and what He has accomplished in my life. What is it that you need to stop doing in your life and allow room for the Lord to do great things that only He can accomplish?
As I stepped out of the mototaxi, I was hit by a putrid burning stench that completely took my breath away… I tried to force a smile in order to counteract the disgusted look that probably swept across my face, as well as to keep from gagging. My feet hit the ground with an unexpected crackling crunch. It was difficult to distinguish among all of the clutter and piles of trash what had made that sound… a rotting eggshell, a razor blade, a disfigured doll’s head, a rancid lemon, a moldy milk carton, tattered plastic bags, a remnant of an old flip-flop.
We had arrived at Relleno Sanatario, or as we called it “the dump”. The word relleno in Spanish means “stuffed”, and this place was definitely overflowing with an abundance of waste. Everywhere I looked, in every direction, for what seemed like miles, there was nothing but mounds of trash… some were only a few feet high while others were 12 to 15 feet high, making them more like small mountains. The all ready desolate land seemed even bleaker because of the barren desert in the background. There were men, women, and even children standing in trash up to their knees hastily digging around to find “treasures” that were hidden among the garbage. They were rummaging through filth trying to salvage things that were of value, things that they could sell… like glass or tin containers… in hopes of being able to make some money for the day. It does not provide much of a living (on average, they make about $10 a day), and it certainly does not seem like much of a life. However, most of the people here don’t know anything but this lifestyle… they are born in this dreary place, inherit their parents’ trade, and are destined to perpetuate the cycle. So they not only work, but also live here. Some have set up temporary shelters inside of the walls of the dump, but they actually live in a nearby village just outside the walls. Their dilapidated homes are awkwardly constructed of frayed tarps, ragged boxes, and scraps of wood. They seem haphazardly thrown together from materials that were collected from the dump and certain to fall if there is the slightest breeze. It was a lot to take in.
When the idea was first presented for us to accompany women from our local church to go help lead a small group for some of the workers, I was eager to lend a hand. But now… being on the “front lines”, engulfed by swarms of flies, surrounded by packs of stray dogs, incessantly sneezing, seeing the approaching workers’ grubby jeans soiled with yellowish brown stains… I wasn’t so sure. I am not typically germ phobic (I used to teach 6th graders, and everyday I would shake each students’ hand), but I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep it together. Sickening feelings returned as I realized I was going to have to shake hands, hug, and even kiss the cheeks of these people.
God completely humbled me in that moment with Romans 12. It says “do not think of yourself more highly than you ought to… share with God’s people who are in need… do not be proud but be willing to associate with people of low position”, but here I was doing the exact opposite. I had no right to put myself above these men and women. I realized that these people, however poor and repulsive they might seem on the outside, are just as worthy to receive God’s love and forgiveness as anyone else. This is exactly who God calls us to share with… those who desperately need His hope, compassion, and love. And in the midst of swallowing my pride, I had this vision of how revolting the sin in my life must look to the Lord. It covers me with layers of grimy filth that must be nauseating for Him to see and smell because He is so holy and pure. And then I began to see the beautiful hearts of these people through all of the ghastly outward things, just as the Lord does.
At first I could only see the sadness and gloom, but God showed me the beauty and the hope that lies ahead. God, the creator of the heavens and the earth, who set each star in its place and directs the path of the sun and moon, took ashes to create man, so why can’t He use the trash of this world and create something beautiful? I believe that He will and that someday this place will be stuffed and overflowing with love.
