Desensitization

I have a slightly strange confession to make:  I am not all that bothered by rats anymore!  We coexist pretty peacefully and have a 'don't bother me and I won't bother you' relationship.  We currently don't have any in our house, but they run past me other places at least several times each day.  They're just part of the scenery.

It's interesting what you can become desensitized to.  Years ago I spent about 5 weeks in China.  At least in those days the TV there was very censored and the programs were really, really tame.  I remember getting off an overnight ferry back into Hong Kong and watching a movie screen on the dock while I waited for my next transport.  I felt strangely ill at the violence on the screen after not seeing anything like it for a while!

We go to New Zealand in 2 days to see family and friends after 2 years away and to settle Hannah in to start college.  I wonder if I'll have to get used to rats again or not upon my return?!

As a rat ran right past my foot the other night in our courtyard and I didn't even cringe, I wondered what other kinds of things I'm used to in my life now?  The obvious ones are lots of people, being stared at, dirt, noise, dangerous traffic, a different language, etc., but what kind of things have I become accustomed to that I shouldn't?  Are there ways my heart has become hard?  Am I proud, selfish, easily angered?

It's always good to stop now and than and consider these things..........

Where Do I Look?

I spend a lot of time looking at the ground where we live.  I walk narrow, dirty lanes every day.  I need to see where my feet are landing, both to make sure that the ground is even and that I don't step on anything I'd rather not!  The paths can change from day to day with the thousands that walk them and the rubbish that might accumulate or the pipe repairs that cause the paths to be torn up a lot.  Some things that don't change can be unexpected like the random stair that is not the same height as the others on the steps up from the Metro.  (I've found this out the hard way a number of times at different exits around the city!)

As a woman I keep my eyes down, too.  In the culture here I don't look up into someone's face to smile as I pass unless I can tell that the feet attached are female.  It's hard for me to break the habit of meeting the eyes of a stranger and coming across as brazen, so it's better that I just look down.  

It's easy to look down in regards to the cares and concerns of those around me, too.  It's easy to try to find my own practical path through what I can see myself of a situation and where it looks like in my own wisdom that my feet should go.

But that's the exact opposite of what I should do!  Looking down physically is necessary, but inside it's even more important that I remember to look UP.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains— 

where does my help come from? 

My help comes from the LO.RD, 

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip......

......the LO.RD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore."

                            Ps. 121:1-3, 8

I looked back over what's showing up on the front page of this blog before I wrote this and my impression was, well......a bit gloomy!!!  A lot of difficult things have happened the past couple of months and not all of them have we mentioned here.  But at the same time we are well aware that He,"Works all things together for the good."  Sometimes when the pot is getting stirred good things are coming!  And we know that He's got good things in store for this community!!!  And while the realities of the lives of the women we focus on are harsh, we have HOPE in Him.  And so do they-----even if they don't know it yet.

One Little Boy

There's a little boy in the nursery at FS who is about a year old.  He was one of those special babies with lots of personality that everyone just loves.  But last night as I lay in bed processing the day I couldn't help but cry for him.

What was a healthy, little charmer has been constantly sick lately.  He's lost weight and is having continuous tummy trouble.  The ladies who look after the nursery love him but are getting tired of his diapers overflowing onto them or being vomited on numerous times a day.  He's been to the doctor over and over but keeps getting sick.

The reason is this:  a while back his mother who had been free from the trade for about 18 months made a really, really bad decision.  Someone had helped her find a place to live a bit of a ways away.  They helped her with the deposit needed so that she would have a good place to stay and manageable rent.  For some reason she decided that she didn't want to live there and without telling anyone got the money back from the deposit, came back to the red light area, and leased a room that she can't afford.  So while she's working at FS during the day she's also standing in line for customers at night just to pay her exorbitant rent. 

During the day her small son is loved and cared for in the nursery, but at night he's being handed around to whoever is willing to watch him at the moment while his mother 'works.'  He's not getting enough sleep and he's obviously not being fed good food and water.  He's getting clingier and clingier to those who look after him during the day and is now a worried, sick little boy.  

While FS doesn't fire a woman because she's 'moonlighting,' we do want women to make the decision themselves to be free.  A women still dabbling in the trade is certainly a cause for concern and people are walking beside her to try to find a solution.  This particular mother needs to learn that she needs to appreciate help being offered and that help isn't necessarily there to bail her out over and over.  She needs help, but she needs to learn responsibility as well.  In the meantime, I'm assuming it must be similar to a grandparent watching their grandchild suffer because of their child's bad decisions, in that it's hard to watch her little son pay the price.

There are several of us who just feel like looking after him ourselves, but is that a solution?  It might be better for him at least for a while, but this woman is his mother and she does love him and want to keep him.  Going down a path that might lead to him eventually becoming a ward of the state isn't a good option either.  And if you begin looking after one child there are many more that could use looking after as well!

A friend who's not with FS is toying with the idea of opening a night shelter for kids just like this.  A place for children to be safe while their mothers work.  I have mixed feelings about this because it's a 'band-aid' solution.  It could make a HUGE difference in the lives of children currently in need but it's not a long-term solution since what really needs to be done is more things like FS that will help their mothers leave the trade.  But in working beside trying to develop the long-term it could be quite good.  

But last night this little boy was undoubtedly passed around, possibly abused, and is still sick..............

And I don't have an answer for him.

Sisters

Beautiful poem written a by a visitor after he was taken for a walk in the sex lanes a few days ago:

The least of these my sisters

In the line, on display

Empty vessels, wilted flowers

Painted petals appearing new

Drunk dry by these my brothers

Dashing clay against the ground

“Fill my cup!” each one will cry

Filled yet again under ribbon sky

No light

No warmth

No home

Where can my sisters go?

With inviting gleam the beacon calls

From darkness into light

Come hope

Come love

Come fellowship

Drink deep the sweet respite

Drink deep the living water

Its well shall not run dry

Drink deep of its salvat1on

Shine light under ribbon sky

The least of these my sisters

First in line are you

He has come to heal the masses

He is making all things new

-Michael Suderman

Saddness

Yesterday was a sad day around FS.  A 21 year-old women who has worked there for the last several years died leaving behind a husband and a 3 year-old son.  The thing that deepens the sadness is that while she was well loved at work, she drank poison after a fight with her husband.  She was taken to the hospital and stabilized for the first day, but on the second her bodily systems began to fail and she died the morning of the third day.

In the last couple of weeks 2 children in FS's nursery have lost their young fathers, one of them through HIV related complications.  Their young mothers will likely be widows the rest of their lives in the culture here.

Still, while these and other difficult things have been happening lately we are hopeful.  Sometimes it seems like it's hard things that end up somehow ushering in the good.............!

Nothing is wasted.

What I've Seen

Sarah Groves is a singer/songwriter who sometimes says exactly what I need to hear.  When we first came and I felt absolutely overwhelmed and inadequate I played her song, "You Are the Sun" over and over on my iPod as I walked around town.  It reminded me that all that was required of me as a 'moon' was to reflect the light of my Sun.  And that I needed to keep my face turned to Him! "Without You (Him) I'm a cold dark stone....."

The other day I heard another of her songs for the first time. It's the perfect song of someone who probably went  expecting to give and ended up receiving so much more in return.  It speaks my heart for the women that we serve here.  They've inspired me and I will never be the same.

I saw what I saw and I can't forget it 
I heard what I heard and I can't go back 
I know what I know and I can't deny it 

Something on the road
Cut me to the soul 

Your pain has changed me 
Your dream inspires 
Your face a memory 
Your hope a fire 
Your courage asks me what I'm afraid of 
And what I know of love ...........


...........I say what I say with no hesitation 
I have what I have and I'm giving it up 
I do what I do with deep conviction 

Something on the road, cut me to the soul
Your pain has changed me 
Your dream inspires 
Your face a memory 
Your hope a fire
Your courage asks me what I am afraid of
Your courage asks me what I am made of
Your courage asks me what I am afraid of
And what I know of God,
And what I know of God.

I Saw What I Saw by Sarah Groves

Washing

Sometimes I feel silly talking about my thoughts because, well, they seem a little silly! I'm not a deep thinking theologian and I tend to see Him in small things. But if that's how I'm made I guess that's what I'd better be willing to give:

I've been sick the past few days and this morning felt good enough to enter back into the human race--at least part of the day. That shower after being sick feels so good! While not cold yet, the weather has cooled enough that I'm glad I remembered to turn the water heater on a while before I wanted to shower. I relished the feeling of oils and grime washing away and when I toweled off it felt SO good to be clean.

Being clean where we live is a privileged because lots of people aren't. Lots of people don't have the privacy to strip down and wash, they have to make do with sort of splashing with their clothes on. Lots of people don't have access to a water supply that would allow them to do even that. Lots of people can't afford soap. You can tell who has been on the streets for a while or not by the layers of grime. Who is trying to keep up a standard of cleanliness or who just doesn't care anymore. While people here are brown, those who have been on the streets for a long time are not. The layers of dirt on their skin and in their hair make them a much lighter ashen color. But whatever their level of dedication to hygiene, people on the street never get to feel truly clean. The privilege of being clean is something not to be taken for granted.

While feeling physically clean is amazing, being clean on the inside is...........I don't really have any words! Bliss? Transcendent? Heaven?

But how often do I take for granted the feeling of buoyancy inside, the uninhibited connection to all powerful Light, the peace in the midst of the trial, the inexpressible joy when I'm fresh 'off my knees' and clean before Him? Clean BECAUSE of Him?

It's a privilege to be clean. And may I never take it for granted.