Seeking Justice...and all that implies

The Place Where They Crush Rocks

2010-08-09T22:33:00.000-07:00

In hopes of assessing how different interns experienced their different internships, IJM HeadQuarters asks us to fill out an extensive feedback form. I filled 10 pages with raw emotion and found myself surprised at how quickly words flew onto each page. It feels good to have answers, where once I had questions. It feels good to have an incredible picture painted, where once there was only a blank canvas. Another year lived, friendships made, lessons learned, and so many people rescued from bondage. I certainly cannot say that last bit about any other year in my life.

While filling out the HQ feedback form with my exhaustive stories, I ran across this question: “What were your most significant experiences?” Oh that one’s easy! Check out my answer below…

The 3 operations and the one Freedom Training I went on were the most significant experiences not only in my internship, but my entire life. I knew a good deal about slavery before I came on this internship, but I had never SEEN it before. And when I learned about modern day slavery, it was usually sex-trafficking that was highlighted, not bonded labour. This internship, and especially those trips, taught me the in’s and out’s of bonded labour and put a face on it. I will ALWAYS cherish the faces of the children that I played with on those operations: beautiful and wonderful children, recently freed children. The first two operations I participated in, we did not receive release certificates for the victims and the owners were particularly hostile. On the second operation, both staff and victims faced ugly threats from the owners, including the threat of rape directed at my friend and me. I've never felt so angry, so scared, and so small all at the same time. These two incredibly rough operations, both lasting more than one day, sucked life out of me and replaced that life with anger. I was hot, exhausted, dehydrated, and angry. I watched corruption and lawlessness spread like a disease. How can we transform a system that is so broken? I thought I was going to crack under the weight of my anger towards the owners of slaves and all the indifferent onlookers. Slavery is right in their backyard, but they don't know. They don't care. They don't care to know.

But then I saw the little children, with eyes wide open and timid smiles. They gave me energy, when my own was failing. I saw so much life in them, and they looked something like HOPE to me. I ran around with them and danced til I was covered in dirt and sweat. We sat and colored to forget how hot and uncomfortable we were, even though temperatures were rising to 120 degrees F and beyond. We played crazy weird games that we made up as we went and we laughed loudly. I got heat rash, I wore the same clothes for two days straight, I was stained with sweat and grossness. I looked something awful, but I loved those kids harder than I’ve ever loved little children before.

The third operation I went on was a great success compared to my first two, although I’m learning that even successful cases are tempered with small failures along the way. I actually entered a facility run by slaves. My partner and I were told to head to "The place where they crush rocks" to gather labourers. It looked like Hell to me and I felt despair in my heart for people who have to work their whole lives away there. I helped gather the laborourers and pack up their lives, including pots, pans, goats, and chickens! It was chaotic in the sweetest way to watch people escape from this Hellish imprisonment. It felt as though we were taking them from cracking rocks in the insane afternoon sun to being able to work where they want, when they want. Ready, set, freedom! Back at the government office, I hung out with the children again, most of whom had already begun their slave labour at the facility. I was also given the task of filming the enquiry which, although it was not in English, was incredibly fascinating. After a long enquiry process, release certificates were written up. (A release certificate is a piece of paper that signifies legal release from slavery and helps prevent re-capture.) This was the first time I got to see release certificates, 29 of them! They look so simple, but they were the most beautiful pieces of paper I’ve ever seen in my life. The magnitude of what I got to witness will stay with me forever, I just know it. I took loads of pictures and made several little buddies. After a long, successful but stressful day, I got to go on victim drop and accompany 3 families to their home villages. We arrived at each village in the dead of night and found ourselves surrounded by other village members welcoming their neighbors home. It was incredibly powerful as I thought of what home means to me and how grateful I’ll be to see my yard and my home again- and these have been 11 of the greatest months of my life…but still, home is home. One little girl grabbed my hand, pointing excitedly and saying, “My village! My village!” Tears welled in my eyes as she tugged me to her hut and giggled loudly. Her village. I got to take her back to her village. How could anything be more significant than that?

Ready for Love

2010-08-02T06:45:00.000-07:00

I could do every good deed known to man. I could rescue slaves and put slave-owners behind bars. I could adopt every orphan and care for every widow. I could cure every sickness and heal every wound. I could be sweet til i'm sick and be more generous than anyone you've ever met. I could empty myself completely and hand out all my pieces...

But have not love?

Then i am a resounding gong, a clanging symbol. I'm a honking horn, screeching tires. I'm a baby screaming at 3 a.m. I'm those nails scraping down that chalkboard. I'm a ringing in your ear that never goes away.

Love makes every difference in the world. What a valuable reminder i was given today in our devotions (1 July 2010). Why would i do this great work if i have no love? Maybe i have love, maybe it's my greatest motivation. Or maybe i do not have love, and i'm doing senseless things and passing them off as meaningful. I'll just have to do some soul searching (one of my favorite activities) and some outside research. Songs, stories, scripture, poetry, films, and life itself should show me a thing or two about love. I'll study up, record my findings, and maybe start living a radically different life, with a radically different love. I'm so ready for that kind of love.

~lauren.susan.

Moment

2010-07-28T10:36:00.000-07:00

27th July, 2010- A moment, not so monumental.

Power outage at work closed me down early for the night. (Well, i guess 8 p.m. isn't all that early.) Packed up my things and headed out into the storm. Don't know when it started or when it's going to end, all i know is that it made me smile. Walked through the rain, trying to navigate around dark puddles. No light from the buildings, seems the storm knocked out all the power on my street. The only light is provided by oncoming traffic and the lightning tearing up the sky. Bright light flashing - but there's no thunder to accompany the lightning and the rain. Sights of a storm, but not the sounds of one. I'm dancing around puddles and smiling because i can't help it. People take refuge in shops, but i just gotta dance! Then the sound of the Muslim Call to Prayer rips into the night air.

The rain, the honking, the calling... it was my perfect South Asia moment. So unique, yet so normal. I've had so many moments like this since i've been here, but for some reason- like the lightning in the sky, this moment struck me. As i walked under the cover of our apartment stairwell, my eyes felt blinded as they tried to adjust to an even darker darkness. Sitting silently below the staircase was our watchman, who soon piped up: "No current here, madam!" Oh good golly, it startled me so badly! "I didn't see you there! You scared me!" I laughed to him. He probably bobbled his head and smiled. I don't know, i didn't see. I laughed to myself the whole way up the stairs. The watchman's startling voice from the dark stairwell hadn't interrupted my moment, it added to it.

So here i am, standing in the dark, relying on flashes of lightning to recall this recent moment. It's a small tale, really. An unmonumental moment. But i know i'll remember it and i'll smile. And i know that i'll wish i recorded more moments like this. Hair dripping wet, feet muddy, eyes wide. South Asia- you're not so bad. Don't tell anyone this but, i'm going to miss these moments we shared.

5 Weeks for Freedom – From cotton fields in Alabama to rice mills in South Asia

2010-07-01T23:27:00.000-07:00

I come to you moved to tears by this great organization that the good Lord has brought me to and the great work they do. Moved to sorrow by the slavery infecting our world today and the diseased mindset that it’s ok. Moved to anger by disgusting racism and degrading prejudice. But IJM stands against these things, and they do so with all their might.

Recently I learned about IJM’s new campaign: “5 Weeks For Freedom” (www.5weeksforfreedom.org), which just kicked off in Mobile, Alabama. 15 people are bicycling 1800 miles from Mobile, AL to Buffalo, NY along the Underground Railroad to raise awareness, funds, and to ignite a fight to “bring hope to the millions of people waiting for freedom.” The journey began on the 28th of June, aiming to remember the tragedy of slavery in our own history and to connect it with the new faces of slavery today. Learning about it stopped me in my tracks and left me truly inspired. It reminded me of the importance of our work. It reminded me that they are raising awareness for something that I’ve seen with my own eyes. It reminded me that I’m on the front lines. My heart beats faster every time I realize that I’m a part of it all. I’m fighting for freedom; how silly that I should forget it so often right here in the midst of it! It’d be like a soldier in battle forgetting that he’s at war. But today I see the battle and I remember why I’m fighting. More importantly, I see that this is a battle we can win. We are well-armed with great passion, great dedication, and great love. We fight and someday, we will win. Praise the Lord!

So many lives have been lost to slavery, scattered across all time and all space. Dreams are continually crushed and hearts constantly trampled. The past five years have taken me on a journey to awareness, which usually turned into anger, and often dissolved into helplessness. I’ve shed so many tears over these tragedies (past and present) and I’ve shouted curses at these repeated offenses, as if my shouts could be heard by all the slave-owners in the history of time. It’s me vs. them, I thought. I vented until I lost steam and faced total silence. I’d be lying if I said my education/experience hadn’t jaded me a little bit. I used to feel jaded without solutions. When I learned about this new campaign (5 weeks for freedom) all my questions, fears, frustrations, and feelings of uselessness came flooding back to me. But this time, they come back as mere memory and not reality. The good Lord has built up a dam around me against these unwelcomed feelings. They crash and break against me: dammed and damned. Satan can take that deceit back, cuz I don’t hear his lies today. We are not useless, and I am not helpless. I have a voice. I’m raising it. And I’m joined by millions. Can you hear that noise? I pray every day for continued love and support, for motivation and inspiration, for blessing and for victory. We serve a great God – a God of freedom. I write to you now, proud to serve an organization like IJM, thrilled to seek a God like Yahweh, and excited that you are supporting me in this endeavor.

Please take the time to learn more about IJM’s 5 Weeks for Freedom by visiting wwww.5weeksforfreedom.org. Watch the intro video to find out more details on this awesome campaign and the support we are rallying across the USA. If you feel led, you can make donations by clicking on the “getting involved” tab. If you are in the area, which all of you OHIOANS are, check out the “events” tab to find events near you (Cincinnati, Columbus, and Cleveland). [And in case you were wondering, Ohio actually had more Underground Railroad stations than any other state! Doesn’t that make you proud to be an Ohioan??] If nothing else, please pray for this amazing journey and tell your friends to do the same!

Signing off prouder than ever to serve IJM,
Lauren.Susan.

5 Weeks For Freedom Prayer Requests: Health and safety of the bikers. Success of IJM’s events (those already planned and those still being planned). That the needed funds will be raised. That new relationships would be formed and that everyone can get excited about IJM’s great work.

Red, White, and Used.

2010-07-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

As the fourth of July rapidly approaches, America prepares to celebrate Independence. Fireworks will light the sky and people will don their best reds, whites, and blues. We’ll throw out the word freedom over and over and over. But I wonder what it really means to most of us and I wonder how many of us truly appreciate it. Still, on the fourth day of July we stand behind our flag with confidence. I mean no disrespect (especially to those who have fought for freedom), but this July 4th I don’t know how to stand behind a flag. I don’t know how to celebrate my freedom while the freedom of so many is being taken away. This year I hope that anyone who is aware of the 27 million slaves worldwide will think of freedom as being much bigger than a roadside carnival with cotton candy and fireworks. It’s bigger even than red, white and blue. I am mindful of global slavery in an entirely new way and that means this Independence Day will be entirely different for me. This year, these lessons, won’t let me forget.

One month ago, I spent 2 days with rescued slaves, some who were born into slavery and others driven to it by poverty. I watched their hopeful, yet uncertain eyes as they saw their new reality: freedom. I had the great honor of twirling and running around with the beautiful little kids: kids who initially didn’t quite know how to play because they hadn’t really had the opportunity to do so before. (I hope to provide you more details about this experience later. It was so surreal, with plenty of amazing and an ample amount of terrible.) All that is to say, this year as Independence Day rolls around I won’t be singing God Bless America and I won’t be missing the firecrackers. I’ll be thinking of those faces of newly freed slaves not so long ago. I’ll be seeing a bigger picture of independence than I’ve ever seen before. I’ll be focused on IJM’s past success in freeing slaves and I’ll be aware of the work that lies ahead. As you prepare for July 4th, maybe you can join me in thinking on these things. Maybe freedom will take on a different meaning for all of us. Oh how great that would be! Glory, Glory, Hallelujah.

Freedom is not a given, let us use it well.

Lauren.Susan.

Silence explained. Well,,, sort of.

2010-06-30T01:39:00.001-07:00

Hello everyone who still takes time to check my always empty blog ( meaning - hi mom and dad:)! I have a lot of explaining to do, don't i? I guess I just don't have blog running through my veins. When I experience something marvelous, my first instinct is to write it freehand (with plenty of scribble marks) in my journal, not to type it up in black and white on this blog. As a result, I have a lot of missing pieces in my pathetic looking puzzle. And I'm sorry to inform you that this particular blog is not going to fill in the pieces, it's just going to explain why they are missing. It's going to serve as the quiet explanation before the storm of blogs i'm planning on publishing.

This year has been the most exciting, revealing, frustrating, adventurous, depressing, valuable year of my entire life. I've been running here, there, and everywhere. I've barely had a moment to breathe, let alone to chronicle my stories. Since I last wrote a blog, i've been to Jaipur, Agra, Delhi, Kasauli, Kolkata, Nagarcoil, Pondicherry, and the Malaysian Borneo! Ahh! My brain is clouded with many brilliant ideas of what i should say and plenty of completely empty spaces. I want to dance around and tell all my secrets, and at the same time I want everyone to just leave me alone. I don't want to feel stuck in this chaotic schedule, but neither do i want to be left with nothing to do. (Although i'm fairly certain that i have not spent one boring moment in this country!) Since i will remain in this chaos for a month and a half longer, my struggle to stay sane will continue! Amidst the struggle, i'd like to fill you in on a few things before i leave this place. (I still cannot believe that I only have a month.5 left! South Asia is a time warp, i'm sure of it.) I'm normally pretty obsessed with chronology, but my love for an orderly timeline is going to take the backseat to more pressing issues on my heart. I hope you don't mind this, even though I assure you that it stresses me out! All stress and craziness aside...please prepare yourself for something that might actually be sort of informative! And please remember that i never promised i'd be good at this blogging business...

blessings - lp

prayer requests: that i live every moment of this next month and a half with passion and dedication to this awesome work!

South Asia: Always Inspiring Curiosity

2010-03-17T04:40:00.000-07:00

I’m comprising a list of things that I encounter in this country on a day-to-day basis that may or may not make much sense to me. I’m sure this list will continue to grow until the day I fly home, since this city is always moving, changing, and causing wonder. Some days these items frustrate me, other days they make me giggle, and then there’s days where I just cry. See how you react:

•I’ve seen plenty of people wearing earmuffs even though it never really gets below 80 degrees F here. Cold blooded ears, I guess? Fashion statement, maybe?

•Many rooms in buildings are separated by random ridges that seem to have no purpose other than to trip you! You always have to be on the look-out.

•Construction here is done in a manner that some might consider haphazard. Structures are supported by sticks while being built. The way things are built and the way they turn out= sometimes questionable. Some of the walls in our apartment are crooked and my bathroom floor is tilted. (My shower drains really well, though :)

•Unnecessary security metal detectors are located in front of many stores and hotels. You don’t have to walk through them if you don’t want to and if you set it off, the guards don’t seem to do anything.

•The guards at our apartment sleep so soundly that you could clang symbols above their heads and they wouldn’t stir. Hmm…makes you feel safe doesn’t it?

•Instead of using toilet paper, they use a bucket, a cup, and a hose…I am still very curious as to how that works. A lot of my friends here don’t quite understand how toilet paper works, either, so I guess we share curiosity!

•Phones don’t have voicemail capabilities. Since my job includes a lot of calling and scheduling, you can see how this could prove inconvenient at times.

•At museums, forts, and other tourist attractions, the price for white people is at least 3 or 4 times the price for nationals. Last weekend, us whiteys paid Rs 150 to get into the Hyderabad Museum and our national friends paid Rs 10. We paid 15x the price they did simply because of the color of our skin!! Can you imagine the trouble this would cause in the U.S.? Oh boy.

•In each room there are usually at least 8 switches. Keep in mind that two turn on lights and one turns on a fan, and I’m still not sure what the other five do. Maybe I’ll never know.

•The infamous head bobble: imagine a nod and a head shake combined, looking a lot like a bobble head doll. This is used by most people as a response to any question/statement you make. It can mean “yes,” “no,” “maybe,” “let me think about it,” “I’m listening,” “I have no idea what you’re saying,” and “you’re funny-lookin.” It’s a fun game to try and figure out which one they mean in each situation! I think I’m getting pretty good at it.

•There is a river near our house that is so polluted that fish can only survive in it for 4 hours. Makes ya kinda sad, doesn’t it?

•TRAFFIC! AHHHH!! There are no rules of the road, and if you try to make some of your own, you will get into an accident. No, it’s much better to follow the crazy flow. Makes travel extra exciting! :)

•Non-stop honking. Everybody on the road feels a compulsory need to honk at all times (even the auto-rikshaws that have little, manual squeak horns:)! It ends up being semi-useless because it’s no longer an effective warning sound- it’s just a whole lot of noise.

•Most cars and autos don’t have rearview mirrors on the passenger and driver’s side. I have NO idea how they work their way through traffic without them, but it’s quite impressive/scary.

•The lay-out of the city is extra confusing. And just to make it a little more intriguing, there are no street signs. Many addresses include things like “Near St. Mary’s School” or “Backside of MR Hospital.” Landmarks are key!

•There are men on the street who feel the need to say “Hellooo madam! Madam! Madam hello! Hello madam! Madam!” I’m still trying to figure out what they wish to accomplish…? I nod and say hello, but the “Madam’s” keep coming.

•The staring: some days it’s comical, other days it’s my biggest pet peeve. Grown folks will stare at you from two feet away and they continue to stare even when you look back at them and ask them what they want. I wonder if they are waiting for me to do a trick or a little jig! I can’t live up to these expectations.

You probably have to see all these things to understand why I don’t understand them. But I figured that it was worth reporting anyway. Note: this list is not meant as an insult to South Asian culture. Rather, it is a collection of observations that make my life a little bit more interesting in one way or another. Enjoy!

My Love Life: A boy and a city. (Pieces of my mind during my flight back to South Asia)

2010-01-14T05:40:00.000-08:00

So this is the New Year. 2010 holds so much mystery and growth. It is sure to rock my face off more than any other year and I welcome that face-rocking. I can use some 2010 after the semi-morose ending to 2009. More than just a year ended; a chapter in my life, nay an entire era, ended. Expectations and goals dropped with that silly shiny ball.

But just as 2010 came, so did he. He called. He showed up. Our relationship didn’t die painfully and silently. It ended in ceremony and now slumbers peacefully. It was quite poetic as I imagined it should be. Feelings remain to a certain extent, but directions have changed. We shared honesty and revealed so much growth over the past 14 months. He put pieces of my heart back together when he told me how much I meant. I saw him as I used to see him and we shared time. Closure weighs on me heavily, but beautifully. We had a real goodbye and we both deserved it.

Now I’m flying back to the other world in which I live, lost in my own thoughts. New fears, unexpected tears. It’s been one long, lonely day. I’m ready for time to bring me healing. Distance is what I want from this painfully perfect goodbye. Everyone promises me that “time heals all wounds.” Well what is time waiting for? Is he on vacation? I’m ready to get on with getting on with this.

I have a whole mindset to transform now. A whole set of plans to re-arrange. My hands are sure to get dirty and my eyes are sure to get wet. You see, I used to think that love would protect me from sadness, but in reality- love has caused the greatest sadness I’ve ever known. I’m realizing in the realest way that anything/anyone you love can be lost. Anything/anyone you give yourself to can take a piece of you and never give it back. The one you try to hold the tightest can slip right through your fingers, leaving you empty and confused. So here I am: lost, wounded, empty-handed, asking Tennyson if it truly is better “to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all?” Yes? Yes. I think that my answer remains yes. Shame on me for ever assuming that I should be able to love and escape loss.

Isn’t it strange how something that used to bring you so much, can end up taking so much away? Isn’t it strange how heavily love can weigh us down? It can lift us so high one day, only to bring us plummeting to the ground the next. Heart meet floor. It almost seems cruel, doesn’t it?

Cruel and strange like my love for a boy who is miles away, is my love for a city that gets closer and closer with each passing second. You see, when I tried to love a boy (miles away) and a city (right outside my door), I failed on both counts. I felt as though I couldn’t give all of myself to either boy or city. I felt torn, out of focus, and generally unsuccessful. Maybe someone stronger could have succeeded at loving both short and long distance. I could not. So as one love comes to a close, I return to the other to try again. I will land in my city soon. It will welcome me with smells and heat that cover me like a sick blanket. Mmmm, what an inviting thought. Sweat come pour again! It is strange to love a place that seems so utterly unlovable. But I find purpose there – unlike any other purpose that’s ever pulled at my heart strings. It takes me from my petty tragedies and dumps me into a swamp of true tragedy. Best of all, it gives me something that I can do about that swamp. Slow work, hard work, but it is something.

Yes, it is fair to say that I’m falling in love yet again, with a city- not a boy. Surely I could lose myself here. And losing myself has never seemed so necessary. That’s not to say that there aren’t days in the city that make my feet drag. Days where I want nothing more than to escape. Those days might even outnumber the days I feel otherwise. This isn’t quite like the cute flirtation that begins normal relationships. The giggles, the butterflies in your stomach, the forbidden glances don’t exist when you’re falling for a collection of concrete and trash. But the days, even moments, where I do fall in love with this city make all other days worthwhile. Like a real commitment, like loyalty, this requires a painful amount of steadfast dedication. And like a boy who can swallow my love and walk away, is this city that can steal my air and replace it with toxic smog. Real love can be so messy sometimes. It is always a calculated risk: What am I losing? What am I gaining? Does one make up for the other? Who knows til it’s over anyway?

Nobody likes to face this risky vulnerability, but to be human is to be vulnerable. Still, so many people are in denial. We’re taught from a very young age to suck it up, put on a good face, deal with it. Why do you think so many people are running scared and breaking others to forget their own brokenness? But what’s the point? Hurting others is unfulfilling at best and pretending you’re not hurt is a waste of energy. I will always admit to my broken parts. Look at me go: I am broken and I am hurt. But I am still breathing and I’m surviving well, even laughing. I will not avoid vulnerability- cuz it’s how we share and it’s how we truly live. I am absolutely determined to love this wretched city – because, dangit, it deserves love. I am well aware that the parts of myself I give to this city may come back tarnished. Let’s be honest, they may never come back at all! I will face annoyance, misunderstanding, fear, and an assortment of other barriers. Yet I do believe that this is a situation where no pain means no gain. So I stand in these streets and say DO YOUR WORST, knowing that I’ll probably still be standing when it’s over.

Yes Alfred Lord Tennyson, loving and losing is better than simply co-existing! I refuse to lose this new opportunity to use love. I will LoVe unconventionally. I’ll take hold of love. I’ll dip my fingers in it like finger paint and decorate this city like a child, who knows no better. I fell in love once, I’ll do it again. I painted love for a boy once, I’ll paint love for a city now. Hope my newest art looks good on mama’s refrigerator.

Journey Me Home – My Journal Entry December 22nd 2009

2010-01-13T05:53:00.000-08:00

“Time to destination: 44 minutes says my flight map. 44 minutes until I touch down in the U.S. I don’t think I’ve properly realized that I could experience an ample amount of culture shock in the next two weeks. Coming from a poverty-stricken, beaten-down, over-crowded city into an all-out winter wonderland of Christmas and materialism. I always expect home to be the same, but I suppose it changes a bit every time I come back. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful. Thankful for a home and a family (my biggest cheerleaders). But along with thankful, I am cautious. Don’t grow too attached, Lauren. There’s so much to do. Focus your reality on Christ, not comfort. Beware that you are coming home to one broken relationship that it appears you cannot fix. Even if he comes, the two of us are broken. What to do? Nothing I suppose. I’m not sure why I can’t just let go – not yet at least. I need to exert all my best efforts, expend my last energies. Oh who am I fooling? Myself…sort of.

39 minutes now. Ahhh the U.S. is awaiting my temporary return. I must admit, I am eagerly awaiting it, too. Two weeks of NOT getting stared at, of NOT sweating, of NOT smelling the sweet streets of that city, of NOT forcing myself to do work that I am just not in the mood to do. Two weeks of being with family and friends that understand me without explanations. Two weeks to feel cold and enjoy home. Yes, I am quite thankful. So even if it won’t be easy, it will be good. A little sentimentality isn’t the worst thing I could feel right now, after all!

My Prayer: LORD, thanks for bringing me healthy and safe thus far, I pray for those mercies to continue. Be with me during each day of this break. Let your birth be cause for celebration – a reason to forget all my own petty problems. Let this Christmas be a chance to truly appreciate the blessings bestowed upon us, and to give back with all we’ve got. That should be our gift to you on Your day of birth (or the day we’ve deemed worthy of celebrating). Allow us to be sentimental, but never let sentimentality replace reason and meaning. Don’t let us be eaten by commercialism, but also do not let us drown in guilt. Let us celebrate! For you, Lord, are well worth the party!!

Yours in Transit, lauren. “

So I know it’s a wee bit after Christmas. I am back in the heat and sunshine yet again. Some might think that a Christmas blog might not be worthwhile, but I think there’s always time to celebrate Christ’s birth. I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas. I know some of this blog might be confusing to those who don’t know certain events that have transpired in my life recently. If you find yourself confused, email me and I assure you I will explain. Life is hard, but oh-so-good. Life after Christmas isn’t nearly as depressing as I imagined it might be. Surprisingly, I am quite fond of being back in this town!

Prayers: To get back into the focus of work (It is crazy stressful right now). For wisdom and guidance in hiring new team members. For our new Structural Transformation project. For continued recovery from unmet expectations.

Get Broken.

2009-12-03T05:42:00.000-08:00

This blog has been looong in the making. SO much has happened since the last report I gave you. So many thoughts, lessons, frustrations, joys, and prayers. Sickness and health. Excitement and sadness. It gets so overwhelming to try and capture it all in a way that makes sense. The more time flies, the less equipped I am to account for it all. I fear that even my own thoughts are clouded, so how shall I express them to you, who are miles and miles away from my heart and my head? Let me try and please forgive me if my attempts fail.

I am lost and I am found.
Standing still and spinning around.

And Maybe we all must be lost to be found.
We can’t be picked up til we hit ground.

*Get broken by circumstance you can’t control. Get broken by bodies without soul.
Get broken in joy and fear. Get broken by smile and by tear.
Get broken by smell and by sweat. Get broken and don’t forget.

These past two months have been a time of being built up only to be broken. Stand up and fall down. Try and fail. Stay still and run fast. Shout out and let noise drown my voice. Watch everybody stare and no one learns my name. Put on my brightest smile and cry my heaviest tears. You might read this and be tempted to pity me. Please don’t. Pity is not what I want. I want excitement. How many of us live our lives admitting that we are broken? How many of us ever fully realize that we are NOT in control?

U.S. Lauren doesn’t have to admit that she is lost and confused. U.S. Lauren could avoid vulnerability if she truly wanted to. She doesn’t have to stare devastation in the face. U.S. Lauren doesn’t have lunch with former slaves and play with bonded children. She doesn’t have to answer the toughest question – why them and not me? She can paint pretty pictures and pretend that they are real. U.S. Lauren could build a white picket fence to block out the world’s greatest problems. South Asia Lauren is different. Well- truth is, South Asia Lauren is the same girl, different circumstances. And in those circumstances, she cannot help but be broken. Broken by work that is challenging and very unglamorous. Broken by heat and stench. Broken by noise that clouds thoughts. Broken by beggars in streets. Broken by relationships that she can’t control. Broken by chaos. But brokenness brings her to her knees. Being on her knees brings her to a slow crawl. And on hands and knees, crawling through dirty roads, this Lauren is finding Jesus. Again and again and again…crawling – finding. Crawling – finding. Crawling – finding.

I can assure you despite the weight of my metaphors, that this is the most oddly joyful report I could ever give. I have never prayed the way I pray here and I have never felt the arms of my Lord and Savior wrapped so tightly around me. I have never felt so loved in such pain. I have never felt so cleansed in such dirt. I have never felt so steady in such a whirlwind of experiences/thoughts. I hate dishing out so many paradoxes all the time, but I just can’t help myself. Anything less than extreme would be downright dishonest! And those of you who know me hopefully know that I think dishonesty is a waste of life.

I promise that I will give you a more informative blog sometime soon and if you stick with me long enough, I might even write a light-hearted one somewhere down the road (Haha…I really am having lots of wonderfully joyful experiences here, I promise :)! But for now, thank you for letting me write this mess of a message to you.

Prayer Requests: Guidance in my work and motivation to give my all. Continued help in our upcoming cases. Focus on what’s right in front of me. The constant reminder that I am not in control and that is a good thing! Traveling mercies at Christmas!!!:)

Of Style and Starvation

2009-10-06T03:56:00.000-07:00

“Find rest, O my soul [in God alone]… Hope comes.” (My variation of Psalm 62:5). Today I asked the Lord to let my soul find rest- the things I’m seeing just don’t make sense. I was right in saying that trauma would be a regular presence. I walk past starvation/defecation every day. And all I do is walk away.

I went shopping yesterday for traditional wear (Salwars and Saris) at the “mall.” Much of my experience was entirely what I expected it to be, the rest was not so. Sometimes it’s the strangest things that haunt you the most. Here is my account…

I go shopping to buy pretty things: Sari’s, Salwar’s, purses, jewelry, fancy with color and culture. I collect my souvenirs and walk out with a smile- what a deal! Carrying my goods/goodies I walk to an auto (a taxi of sorts). My feet move and my heart stops- I see an old man stuck on the ground in motionless misery. He looks like the oldest man on earth. His skin clings to every fragile bone in his body. He reaches out in silence. I've never seen frailty like his. The frailty of facing death at any moment. I’ve never seen eyes like his. Eyes that express unspeakable need. I've seen the poor before, but not like this. This was different. Yet I continue walking. His outstretched hand receives none of my wealth, I keep it for myself. His belly receives no food, mine is full. I grasp my bags and walk away.

Today I feel wretched- almost as if I’ve missed every word that Christ has ever spoken, as if I’ve somehow lost all His commands. Singing the hymn “Count Your Blessings” this morning at office devotional brought tears to my eyes. What of the man who has no blessings to count? What song can he sing? I’m trying to bring this all to Christ, but what can I bring? What can I pray? Words (proper words) escape me. Today I wore my new purchase from last night’s shopping trip- a pretty new Salwar. People stop to compliment me: “Lauren that is so beautiful! Where did you get it?” My stomach sinks- did I spend money on colored fabric instead of giving that old man some food? Maybe some would say there’s no connection between the two. Some might say that I can’t live my life worrying about all these things- surely I will go crazy. But how can I avoid crazy? I cannot get that man's face out of my head. This world sucks. One man’s best day is another man’s worst. I just saw ‘worse’ and I did nothing. But I got up this morning and put on my smile, trying my best to enjoy South Asia despite its tragedy. I am brought to my knees. What have I done? What have I left undone? And what must I do now? Creation is dying- with hands outstretched and painful groaning. And still I sit here in my pretty new outfit. How can I make sense of such stark contrast? I know I am here to do a good thing with a great organization. Perhaps that is enough to make up for what I see every day and the way it shakes my very core. But what if it’s not enough? What if nothing is? Lord help us all.

Lauren.Susan

Prayer Requests: That hope comes, wisdom to know what to do in the face of daily tragedy, that I don’t grow numb to the horrors that we’re supposed to be paying attention to, and that you don’t either.

i am adventure.

2009-09-30T19:25:00.000-07:00

I am the adventurer. I go to far-off lands to meet far-off people. I have experiences that most people only dream of. I build character across culture. I cross boundaries and color outside the lines. My stories paint pictures in technicolor. I seek the unknown and go beyond it. I am brave, aren’t i? Hmm...

But beneath the rad façade is a little girl in the fetal position. I am no great adventurer! I’m freaking scared to cross the road! In this new place I find myself scared as often as excited, uncertain as often as certain. Sure I’ve only been here 5 days, but it seems that this pattern of up and down is sure to accompany me throughout this year. I get excited about new food but then scared of sickness. I have a great desire to go out and experience the city but then see my life flash before my eyes every time i get close to the insane traffic! I get pumped up for my new job but then deflate when i realize how unprepared i am for such things. I am interested in meeting new people but then fear for my safety. I am passionate about helping people in heinous need but then am overwhelmed by the staggering reality of bonded labor (FOR INSTANCE: many bonded laborers here are forced to work 20 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no food. They are starved and thrown out like trash. One woman was forced to have her baby without a doctor and continue working…).

Clearly i must learn balance. Before me is an experiment in mellowing out and calming down. This is a character building opportunity, as my dad would helpfully point out. I can feel it beginning: adjustment, flexibility. Long fears of what it would be like and what it first seemed are coming to rest. Some fears are proven true, while others are quite wrong. In some ways i’m more scared now, in others i’m less afraid. I suppose this makes about as much sense in writing as it does in my head- that is, very little. Adjust to my stream-of-consciousness if you’d like, or not- whatever works best for you. But this blog might be painful if you don’t like my scattered heart in print.

One thing i do know, in the midst of my mind mess, is that i’ve started this journey in such a different manner than Uganda. Uganda had a blissful beginning with all the trappings of the honey moon phase of culture shock. I loved everything and everyone. The first weeks were dream-like and easy to love. My maiden voyage to South Asia, on the other hand, started with many unpleasantries…

I began the trek on a gray day in groggy dreariness. My goodbyes hit me harder this time (especially one very painful goodbye) and my preparedness was arguably pathetic. I traveled alone and wallowed in that fact. I got sick on the 15 hour plane ride to Mumbai and then sat rotting in the airport by myself all night. I felt sick, alone, unsure, and quite possibly depressed. I caught my next plane at 6:00 am, not one of my favorite hours of the day. Upon arrival at my destination, i was driven to my temporary housing. On my ride from the airport i thought i might get into about 50 accidents, give or take a few. But, you may be relieved to know that the misery of my journey subsided quite a bit when i got to the place i wanted most: a bed. After 48 hours of little to no sleep, my bed became my best friend for 7 hours (in the middle of the day! Oops). And my misery all but disappeared when i went to my boss’ house for dinner with many other interns and fellows. I realized what is going to make this year insanely amazing and entirely worth it: PEOPLE!! Silly me for forgetting that meeting new people is one of my favorite activities! How could i dismiss the wild array of people around this crazy globe that restore my soul and make my life a real thing?! PEOPLE! People are my reality. They live and breathe and teach me to do the same. They have stories to tell and hearts that beat. PEOPLE! One of the reasons we can approach our Lord and Savior the way we do is because he became human to be with us – Immanuel. He came to show Himself as God and man and He came to relate to PEOPLE. This world is entirely filled with new people to meet and love. I’ve only begun to scratch the surface, but this town is yet another example that awesome people exist in every place, in every time, and every circumstance. I encourage every one of you to go meet someone new as soon as possible (Preferably someone who doesn’t look/act just like you). Listen and learn- Ahhh yes, and remember that Christ uses PEOPLE! Little ones like you and i, if we would but uncurl from our fetal positions. And i feel encouraged to do just that by the people here. The people in my office have already touched my life by welcoming me as a new family member, by reminding me to smile & laugh, by assuring me that it’s okay to miss home, by showing me the alternative-style beauty this city has to offer, and by revealing to me that this truly is a great adventure!

So while i may not be the bravest soul there ever was, i did choose to travel to the other side of the world to have “other-worldly” experiences. I want to taste the spice of South Asia, whatever the intestinal consequence. I want to sprint across the treacherous street if it means i can venture our on the town. I want to succeed at my job and learn to do my best, even if i make a mistake or two (or 200). I want to experience this city inside and out. I have fears- yes, plenty of them. But i will lay them aside- NAY, i will stomp on them if it brings me closer to being a true adventurer (for description of such a lofty term, see beginning of this overwhelming, overloaded post).

PRAYER REQUESTS: that us girls will make a closing deal on an apartment we found, that my new friend Amie gets her visa so she can join us, that my job becomes easier for me to understand/approach, and for continued health and safety (especially on the streets,,, i really mean it. The traffic is insane- i almost got hit today by an auto while I was standing still on the “sidewalk” tonight. I’m having trouble adjusting to the driving here)!

This is the beginning...the beginning...the beginning of our story

2009-09-24T08:47:00.000-07:00

And so it begins…the most intense experience of my life. Picture this: Lauren Peffley walking the streets of DC in a suit…? Haha, doesn’t that just scream INTENSITY?!?! I assure you that what I set out to write is much more intense than a recent college grad trading in her sweats for suits. What I write about here and now is the story of a young girl trading the familiar with the UN(familiar). A girl jumping head first into the biggest adventure yet- an internship with International Justice Mission.
Training week was an overwhelming, yet fulfilling experience. The baby IJMers got to hear from an experienced and well-spoken staff that looked something like super-heroes to my eyes. We were reminded of the mission that we are now on: the mission to “seek justice, to encourage the oppressed, to defend the cause of the fatherless, to plead the case of the widow.” (Isaiah 1:17) It is one thing to say this casually to a friend, but I assure you it is entirely different to see it being acted out by the brave souls at IJM. They have truly taken up this cause. It was refreshing to see people so devoted to serving the poor and following God’s heart.
We got the chance to hear about each department and its function. We learned the importance of stories. We became familiar with IJM’s four fold purpose (victim relief, perpetrator accountability, structural transformation, and victim aftercare). We witnessed an organization that is entirely Christian, entirely professional, entirely attentive to detail, and entirely devoted to a cause. We joined in daily prayer for ongoing operations. We met our amazing fellow interns. We read casework methodology. We deployed pepper spray! And I’m telling you, we swallowed an insane amount of information! I cannot tell you how much it meant to let it all sink in. Over the summer, I told people over and over again what I’m about to go do and it became my scripted story on repeat. Only this week did I begin to realize the importance of this story. This is real and it is happening now! I’m leaving for South Asia today and it is a big deal! Hearing the staff of this incredible organization tell us that we were going to make a difference- that we are Christ’s hands and feet in this world- really made me stop and wonder…Are they crazy?! The answer is NO. They really do believe that it is both our duty and our privilege to serve the poor. When Moses heard from almighty God that he was to go and rescue his people, Moses said “Who am i?” God did not give Moses an easy answer. He didn’t say “Well, Moses you are qualified for this job in SO many ways and let me tell you what I mean…” No, instead He said “I will be with you.” Now GO. (Exodus 3)
The question “Who am i?” has been occupying my brain space since I got this internship. Who am I and how can I ever do this? We all have times where we ask the question, even spiritual giants like Moses voiced their doubts on the matter. But we must realize that no matter who we are, we are called by God to GO seek justice and He will GO with us. So who am i? I’m Lauren Peffley! I’m GOing to South Asia. I’m GOing to be an intern with International Justice Mission. I am GOing to do significant work. And dangit, I am GOing to affect lives.

All in God’s hands. Peace
lauren.susan

Prayer Requests: Safety in travel. Health in arrival (so I don’t get pegged for a Swine Flu victim- ee gads). That I find the women who are picking me up from the airport! And that the city welcomes me with sights and sounds to remember!