Why Do I Scream At God for the Rape of Babies

I've been reading a book by this title. Catching, huh?

Its based on a true story, taken from the diary of a women who took under her care a 5-month old child in Africa. The little princess was raped by two men infected with HIV as her mother stood nearby.

Of course, she was small, so she was cut open with a broken glass bottle from her virgina to her anus. Im sorry for the words, i couldnt find any other way to say this, that what it actually is. She was 5 months. She was left to die, bleeding on the street. Just so happened that someone came by and saw her and rushed her to the local hospital.

You know, right now thats all i can say. Ill come back and finish this post later.

Mother of Many

Today...i feel so sad. I have been so selfish with my life. Pouring out to "things" that I should not be, that in the end leave me feeling void and worse than i had anticipated. Makes my heart hurt and its a bittersweet reminder to go back to the source that is my Savior.

Rededicated, rededicate, rededicate. Probably should be one of my mottos!

Soooooo, I just finished an email to India Rescue Mission, check them out: http://www.indianrescuemission.org/ 

They literally go out and rescue our daughters and our sons. Christian-based. I am going to contact some of their contacts in the States...if you would love to help, i am sure they would could use it. Maybe one day, I...better yet, WE can be involved in a rescue. That would be nice. :)

But I am really here to share with you the response to my email asking a friend i made while in India if she was affected by the bombings that occurred in Mumbai June 2011:

Thanks for remembering us. I had reached home that day earlier than usual but it was indeed terrible to have terror strike again in the heart of Mumbai. Yesterday's paper indicated that the death toll had risen to 26 as a result of the terrible bomb blast. One of the bomb blast sites was close to the place where we had the first Aruna Drop in Center. "A" is enjoying her school and "D" is doing great she will finish her hair dressing and styling course next month. I now go to Nirmal Bhavan twice a week and see the girls for counseling on other days I go around to the other projects of Oasis. This involves a great deal of traveling in the city. Pray that I keep obedient to His call and remain in the centre of his will always.

Lovingly in Him
Accamma

"A" is a young 16 year who aspires to be a doctor. She still dreams...so many do not. She was sent to live with her uncle after her father passed. Her uncle proceeded to drug her and rape her for years until she ran away. Not knowing where to go she rode a train up and down india until she was rescued by a woman who found her a home. She is now living in a hope with other women who are victims. She knows English very well and is a smart, kind, very quiet young woman, who is worthy of our prayers.

"D" is a young woman, looks to be about 19 or 20, they say she is about that age. Her past is bits and flashes of hurt. She doesnt have big dreams but has a talent for hair and beauty treatments. When asked if she would ever get married, she shys away and says no. She has HIV. Women with HIV seldom think marriage is a possibility for them. She was trafficked for way too many years and now has a very difficult time opening up. She desperately needs the love of God.

Accamma is the woman who so unselfishly spends out her life caring for them by providing counseling and treatment to overcome the pain of their abuse. There are countless others under her care, and many more that have come and gone. She is the Mother of Many. While i was there for 17 days, she is there for a lifetime and can only deal by constantly rejuvenating with the source that brings life. Her heart is so pure and I feel such peace thinking of her and her life.

If you could pray for them and Mumbai as you read this post, that would be pretty awesome.

A Lot of Work Left to Do

I do remember there was a time when I used to cry a lot. A lot, a lot. You know, i was dealing with a failed marriage, the love of my life had moved away to a completely different city with his girlfriend of 2 years (we had only been divorced for 2 months), and i was alone with my 2 young children (one who was only a few months old).  Yeah, to say the least I cried a lot.

But i can honestly say, that was the best medicine i could have received. See, for someone like me, i wasnt going to learn the easy way. Oh, God prompted me to make Him the love of my life on several occasions, but i turned my back on Him on each one; and now during those very difficult times, i was solely responsible for the pain i felt in my heart. I felt like dying...and i believe if it wasnt for my children, it would have been a very viable option for me to indulge.

And it wasn't until I finally had an epiphany that the tears stopped. Oh, i was going to church, i was praying, i was reading, i was hanging out with good people...but i was never in it. I felt millions of miles away. But i guess, sometimes when the right motivation isnt there, simply going through the actions persistently and consistently in obedience is enough for God to work miracles with.

One day, i read my Bible, i read about the Great Commandment: Love God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Matthew 22:37, and the second, Love your neighbor as yourself.

Yeah, i knew that.

Then i read about the Great Commission: Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; teaching them to obey all that i have commanded you, and surely i will be with you always until the end of days.

You know, i had a small revelation there, just as Jesus spread the gospel to his disciples, i can spread it too, and He will then always be with us...but i must obey His command for this to even be possible.

Yeah, that was a good revelation. But it wasnt until i was sobbing my eyes out one day because i was so utterly tired. So tired of so many things, of so many years of problem after problem, heartache after heartache, that i realized and i fully understood that my life was not meant for a successful marriage, great career, lots of money, excellent health, beautiful children, genius knowledge, etc.  While all those things would be really nice and a huge bonus, that is not what my life was meant for...not in the least.


God specifically said that my purpose was to Love GOD. Love my neighbor. And go spread His message to all people so that they might come to the full understanding of who He is in all His majesty.


That is the day that tears sort of just stopped. Dont get me wrong, i get frustrated and cry, i hear of someone in pain, and i cry, but i cant remember another time since that day that i have cried the way that i cried before, in hopelessness.

There is meaning to my life. Even when my marriage failed, there was meaning to my life, when i didnt have money to eat, there was meaning in my life, on and on...there is meaning to my life. I find that meaning in God.

And NO, that doesnt make me a sheep or lacking in personality, that makes me wonderful and perfect. That makes me more than just the little speck i am in this universe and in history...it makes me in the image of Him.

I dont pray for many things for myself anymore, but one thing i never fail to pray for is that i would grow to love our God more and more each day.  I get overwhelmed at His majesty many times now. I am in awe of who He is.

You know, i am not perfect person, but i can say truthfully and completely, i am a very honest person, sometimes too honest. I dont like hiding things and i like things said straight out, and while i must get better at how i say things, i know one thing for sure, i, just like you: Have a lot of work to do. :)

The void of why I was created

I had my Intacs surgery on Wednesday, July 13th. I dont see a difference at all in my vision, but they did say it can take up to 3 weeks to see a major change and it takes a full 6 months for the final results. Still, i find myself worrying. I dont even pray for success in the operation, i pray for the bigger problem at hand, which warrants greater attention: my unbelief. I cant even pray for miracles in healing, because i strongly believe that if its God's will its God's will, if not, well, then its just a fact of life. Crappy things happen. But God says theres the gift of healing. So if i claim to believe in Him, i must believe everything He says. I cant pick and choose. And for now, i can admit, prayer for healing is not where it needs to be in the least. Well, i didnt do this blog for that, but i did want to provide an update as i know many have asked and i am humbled by the concern.

So....

Do you ever get those feelings like you just want to cry but dont really know for what or why?

I've been getting them lately, but the weird thing is, I don't cry. Oh, i can cry for others, its this thing called being empathetic that i got down really well, even though i often wish i didnt.

Let me ask you, why do you think you're so special and you were born with the freedom to read this blog? To even own a computer or have access to one? Do you think it was so you could die with it all to yourself? Or do you think it was for something greater? Something great, something beautiful.

Whether we want to see it or not, we are blessed. We have privileges so many dont even know of or can even imagine. Did you get to eat breakfast or lunch, or even go outside? A/C? Shoes?

I think i find myself crying, not only because i have become distant in the principals of a "good christian" (e.g. bible reading, prayer, etc.) but because i have grown distant to the purpose of my life. Which is actually the same purpose as yours ;o)

To Love God, love our neighbors, and spread His message to all people. 

• The Great Commandment: Love God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Matthew 22:3 The second, Love your neighbor as yourself.
• The Great Commission: Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; teaching them to obey all that i have commanded you, and surely i will be with you always until the end of days.

 I am feeling the void of why I was created.

Its time to get refocused.

Time to stop wasting my blessings on another dress in my daughters closet, another toy for my son.

Time to stop wasting my blessings on more sleep. 

There's an organization that can definitely use my time to combat sex and labor trafficking. There's another human being that can really use my love and support. There's a child who can really use some shoes and maybe, just maybe a toy. There is God who desires to talk with me.

Read these true stories of people who need you and me from the  2011Trafficking in Persons Report conducted by the US Department of State:

http://www.state.gov/g/tip/rls/tiprpt/2011/164225.htm 

Look on these people and ask yourself if we're not truly blessed. I must stop focusing on what is limited and start fulfilling my purpose. Our purpose. You will see the tears of grief stop and the majesty of God all consuming start.

It takes a every day rededication of our lives. With so many things in this life that compete for our attention, it takes an every day rededication of our lives to the only one actually worth our complete attention, God.

Saying "I love you" is only a few words if not backed up by demonstration. 

I dont want to wait till its too late to examine my life and ask if I could have shown Him that I truly believed what I said i believed. The road is narrow, few will enter. 

By the way, i love you too, thank you for taking the time to even care what i have to say. Honestly and genuinely, i really do love you too...thank you God for giving me a glimpse of Your love.

BTW Here is an updated photo of the boys from the Boy's Home with Aids in Mumbai, India. They look pretty great in this photo <3 Practicing the moves we showed them during a small Karate lesson. Will you take a minute to pray for them, please.

So, i've been back...

...for almost a month now.


I wish i had written down more of the experience in India, i just never got the time. And as i sit here now, trying to make vivid the experience, i feel alone.


(Disclaimer: These are only my thoughts, and God knows there is so much wrong with me, i am the last to cast judgement) The Mavericks wont the NBA, and there wasnt a place i could turn that this feat didnt consume the lives of the city. The passion for winning a title to a game, the ups and downs, like a bipolar disorder during the journey...it was shocking to me. I sat back and watched from the comfort of facebook and even church the excitement and appearance of life it brought everyone.

And i remember the boys, how they found so much joy in making the pop sound come from carefully bended piece of paper.


They found a way to smile in that small act. But when the paper runs out and there isnt any money to buy some more, and they have HIV, and one sweet boy even has no arm because it was burned off while trying to save his mother who was set on fire...to broken to even admit he remembers what happened...we cheer and shout for a game that consumes are lives so much that there is no time to spend in thought, prayer and support of these boys.


I'm wondering about Asharah, how is she doing today? Is she sad. Father, is she sad? God, will you come today?


So now the Basketball season is over. What next?
I wonder if people ever stop to think how limited that "joy" was. How quickly it came and quickly died away. If they could have eyes to see...step back and see the chaos from the scope of the world, from the scope of eternity. Put all that energy into the Kingdom that is Yours...would the world be that much more changed?


I dont think it wrong to have pleasures in this world, but it hurts to think how much energy and effort is given to something that doesnt even matter.


I have been running around with my head cut off for the last few weeks, going to this, going to that. Last night, as i finally made time to watch 1 hour of TV because i am so exhausted from thinking, i started to envy those families, couples, people that come home from work and sit in front of the TV, or even fall asleep in their bedrooms as they watch...that would be nice. I wouldnt be tired anymore. Maybe i wouldnt be so stressed out?


That life would be nice. I could in my position, really move up on that latter. Maybe take a nice vacation on some exotic island. I dont know, maybe even go out with my friends more?


Then i looked at some of my profile pictures, and i was reminded of the little girl, Elisa, who died at the age of 6. She was repeatedly molested with a hairbrush and toothbrush. Beat so severely by her mother, even used as a mop. The Cambodian girl, who's eye was taken out by a metal tube? God, how could i think of anything less? Why do people, why do i, get so hung up over petty little things, get upset about things that dont even matter. Why father?


I did my first presentation for Traffick911 on Monday, Tuesday there was a friend that really needed me and i had to buy groceries after, by the time i even got home it was 11. Wednesday i helped with the children outreach, and last night worked really late into the evening on a project for work.


Yesterday, Thursday, was also the day i found out that my vision has gotten worse as confirmed by the specialist. I tried practicing my strings and i couldnt read the notes anymore, even with my super glasses.  I cried. Overwhelmed at the thought that im losing my vision and it might not get better. My surgery is scheduled for July 13th. But then memories of the old woman in India came back; i was trying to show her how to make a keychain, but she couldnt even see the string or beads clearly enough to try. :( She's been living like that most of her life. Doesnt even know how to spell her name. 


Its exhausting to spend my life like this at times.
But i can also see there were a whole lot of "I"s in that last few statements. Its all about me. What im doing? Whats happening to me.


Its almost like the more i live life the more inadequate i feel. Father, why am I so sad and dont even know for what or why? My life is good. Better than its been before, and yet i feel so confused about every single area of it.


But I'm taking note today that i havent nearly spent the kind of time with God that i need to,to get out of gray muck that is now my life. Without you Father, evidence is clear to point out that its all gray.


How do i get back to India?

A Full Indian Day.

taxi, train, rickshaw...bird poop on the foot. um and something far worse that i will spare you from.  :o)
today is our last full day in India. we got full access to computers at the headquarters while there are some interviews being conducted.


While i am still here, here is my attempt to recap images and thoughts from the last few days:


I went to a brothel room on one particular day. The entry is just as it is described in books and documentaries: dark.  I almost even tripped going up the stairs.  The room was very clean though and airy. There were 6 women in the room, and myself, a translator, and a local church member. Everything felt so normalized. Some of the girls were just laying in their beds, others were on the floor or on their cell.  Weird, not what i expected.


It was a little awkward at first. Some small talk.


Then God.


I felt him telling me to share my testimony.And its so weird how i thought my testimony and their lives were so unrelated. How could i even attempt to imagine what they must be going through.  But somehow we connected. By God's divination we connected. The church lady asked me to pray for them afterwards individually so i did. I prayed for them one by one.


I always found it strange when people would tell me that the Holy Spirit would take over their mouths. I dont know if that has ever really truly happened to me before. As i prayed, i felt so much hurt and from what the translator said, they each cried as i prayed. I wouldnt know.  I kept my eyes shut. I had a hard time looking up at them.  I didnt feel worthy. I honestly feel so in awe of them. They have become tough and i never, ever hear them complain. They have suffered in ways i will never know, they are not prostitutes to me, they are a word i dont even know.


One of the men in our group told me that he has a hard time understanding emotional or "feely" people.What is so hard for me to understand is that while i was home just reading and seeing the stories of victims, i feel so overwhelmed. so hopeless and so lost. i sob often, asking God that He would come NOW.


My dear friend Arliana, linked me up with a series of messages on Habakkuk, she doesnt know how this message from God is what has carried me these days in india. More than carried me, carried others. When i shared a shortened version of it at the slum church, a young man came up to me and told me that the message meant very much to him and that he really needed to hear that. he asked for prayer and i was just in awe. But im gettting sidetracked.  All that to say, "I am doing a thing in your days you would not understand if told".  Thank you arliana. Thank you God.


So now, i am crying, not because i am overwhelmed with hopelessness but because God loves them so much, and i am so little, i cant even get it out how much He loves them.  God how he loves them. He loves them so much more than their past, than their sin, than their shame.  God loves you, he loves you.


Michael, the translator, told me so many of these girls are now free, like the ones i talked to, but they stay because of money. And when i look around india, the children with the blackened eyes, hungry bodies, the mothers with the babies sprawled on their legs appear so lifeless, the men asleep at the foot of dogs while rats run over and around them, its no wonder its so hard to leave the industry that keeps them dead on the inside.  Michael said the only answer is God. I agree.


He really spoke to me. After i shared with the girls from the brothel, one of the girls came up to me and wiped my tears and told me not to cry for her. She was so sweet. God, i pray she gets you.


We went into another room, i didnt share but instead we just made small talk. There was a huge mirror that covered one entire wall. Michael said the girls in the room were private dancers. There was an older woman siting in the corner. She was the mother of two of the girls (one of them looked over 18, the other most definitely did not).. There was a 6 year boy and a 5 year old girl too. There were mats stacked up in the corner. There was no bed to hide the kids. So where are they when their mothers are performing? Th e only answer, they had to be in the room with their backs to it all.


I asked michael, how about if a man came in for a private dance and service, and they liked the little boy or the little girl? And they offered money. Do the women protect them? There was no answer for the question. God this hurts. How can a mother bring in her children and her children's children.  Father, why dont they know you? Father, multiply your children to spread like fire your hope and how you can change lives.


The day before yesterday we went to the boys home with AIDS, i dont have anymore time to elaborate, but please pray for Ram. He is a 17 year boy. Very kind, very quiet. He cared very much after the younger boys. But he was very tired almost the entire time. He isnt responding well to the medication, Please pray that hey would have hope in the midst of his fate. My heart was so burdened by him, but he didnt open up much.  I love him, so much.  Right now as i sit in my chair, in front of a computer with internet access, i am so overwhelmed with how much he needs love.




i have to hurry and go now. i wish i could share about the 16 year from last night. just know to pray for the Tithi. Henna artist.

Her Wrists

(please forgive me, i didnt proofread or spell check, dont have much time)

i wish i had time to go back and recap the first few days. the day at the halfway home with victims trying to escape their former lives, the day with the current prostitutes at the drop in center, the eerie day we walked through the brothels, but today is the day i can and will elaborate on only because i am so disappointed in myself...and hope that you will join me in prayer for a little girl.

i and three other people were walking through the slums (it was actually the very one from slumdog millionaire) and i saw a little girl, she was between 4 or 6 years old. her wrists were bound in rope.  not smooth nice rope but rough shredded rope, tied very tight.  she had three small scar slashes on her right cheek and she was crying while her "mother" (i dont know if she was or wasnt, it was some woman) hit her with a stick.  i was the last in my group.  i saw it, jaw dropped, and just walked by.  what do i do? what should i have done.  i talked about it with the contact later.  but it was sort of too late.

while we walked from point a to point b, i was too shocked to say or do anything.  i just walked by. and when we arrived at point b, i stood aside for a moment and just cried and cried by myself. 

i feel so lost.

we got to point c a few hours later. we keep being "honored" guests at church, getting the chairs while the people sit on the floor or outside. i looked out the window and saw a little girl caring for her little brother. i smiled and the little boy reached up for me. so i went outside right as service was starting. when i got outside, i saw that he had heat blisters. several.  one was bleeding profusely all over his face and shirt. my heart sank. the contact asked me to come back inside.

but i will never walk away from God's prompting again. i will forever be haunted by the little girl bound at the wrist.

i got my backpack and made my seat with with poor and wounded. i was able to use my first aid kit to clean off some of the children and put bandages on their wounds. gave them some peanut butter crackers. i cried a lot. as i touched each one, i felt God's prompting to pray.

"God, may it be your face, your beloved son's that they see instead of mine.  I will leave soon, who will love them?  But you father, you stay with us always.  you will stay with them. father please, please stay with them. love them father. love them. care for your children."

i cried more than i have ever cried, in a crowd of people who i couldnt even speak to. everyone else was inside.

"father, please wipe their hands and feet, their dirty wounded hands and feet, with your living water, your clean water".  cried, and cried.

"Father, come and rescue them, rescue them.  use me, use me, but please dont let it be my face they see".

"father fill me with your hope, i am broken, fill me with your hope".

please, please pray for the little girl with the bounds wrists. i am not sharing to appear like im some good person, there is no good in me that isnt God.  i am sharing because im so desperate for others to care, to please care. to go and love, love till it hurts.  please. Most importantly i am sharing so that you can join me in praying that God would rescue his children now. 

So what started it all?

I know without a doubt, that this will be with me my entire life now. I will do everything that i can do, and more with God, against sex trafficking, sexual & physical abuse and for the victims of these crimes. 

Sexual Abuse and Physical Abuse of a child or Woman. The topic has always bothered me.  But that's all it was...something that bothered me.  Like most people i heard a story and became saddened by it and would feel sorry for the victims.  But it was so far from removed from me that i could not relate. It was someone else's problem.

Then there was Jaycee Lee Dugard.  Here is her story:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kidnapping_of_Jaycee_Lee_Dugard

And a little more research and i found this story:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fritzl_case

That was the worse story i had ever heard.  I thought to myself "there is no way this is real.  There is no way that this could happen to someone for so long.  No way."

I began to think about it day and night.  Trying to imagine what they were thinking, how they felt, if they were hungry, cold, sick, did they miss their mothers, did need a hug, did they understand this was not their fault, did they hurt, how much, how often, did they have any hope.  I tried to imagine what could possibly make anyone do these things to others.  I was at a loss.  I would cry myself to sleep.  I even got prescribed some sleeping pills because i was having a hard time falling asleep. 

I envisioned myself in their shoes and it was no longer removed from me.  It was very real to me and i knew just knowing about it was not enough. I'm sure these women and children never thought this was going to happen to them, it just happened one day.  We cant wait to care only when it affects us personally.

I started crying out to God. It hurt me so bad knowing what these girls went through, and one by one, things lined up.  And i just knew that I needed to do more.

It started with learning about more cases.  Reading the bible about sin and man.  Then there was prayer for the women and children.

Then it was the time of year to sign up for missions at our church.  Every year our church goes to India to preach the Gospel to unreached people.  So i signed up. But something didn't sit right.  I knew that i was called to go on a mission trip but not so sure this was the right one. A little more time and research and i found Saved By Nails. I signed up to for a Mission Trip to Mumbai, India known for its Red Light District

http://www.savedbynails.org/donate.html

Then it just so happened that the Superbowl was in town and with major events, i learned, there is a rise in Prostitution, and with prostitution there is a rise in Sex Trafficking victims being used.  So i and a few friends got involved with Traffick911:
http://www.traffick911.com/

A few wonderful Men i know even helped make awareness by "Walking A Mile in Her Shoes":

 

I could write some more.  But i think this sums up how it all started.

Anyone can stand up and make a difference. That little boy, girl, women just needs you. One is enough.

It is God Himself who made us what we are and given us new lives from Christ Jesus; and long ages ago He planned that we should spend these lives in helping others. Ephesians 2:10

Does a day go by that i'm not gonna think of them?

I want to cry. My heart is heavy inside my chest.  It feels like i am hollow and there is nothing but this heavy, heavy thing inside me that wants to burst through my eyes.  Through my mouth.  What i would give to hug one of these children or women that float in and out my head, all day every day. 

I wonder to myself, is there a day when i wont think of them.  When i wont feel like i would die instead of them, that i would suffer in their innocent place.  ???

Some stories i cant get out of my head: 

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,983842,00.html





 



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_Nixzmary_Brown



Here I Go

So, I think I feel like I used to think of my grandparents and parents when it came to technology...old and outdated, confused and overwhelmed.  Well, i dont know if thats how they felt, but thats how i thought of them.  First time to do one of these bloggy thingys, but i figured i better cross this off my check list of things to do before i leave for India.

And its 1:16am now, off to bed. 

Thank you, God. For loving me.