Friday, December 30, 2011

Twenty Kuai.

A few weeks ago I accompanied a friend down to the red-light district. She is a native Californian as well and has been living in this city for several years. She has befriended many of the women who work in the brothels and recently partnered with the Project to help some of the women find a way out of prostitution. As I walked down those streets and allies with her to visit the women, I looked up from the dirty pavement and looked up into their eyes. My heart broke in a new place that it had never broken in before. Most of them were migrants from the countryside who came to the city seeking better job opportunities, but ended up in the allies of brothels instead. My friend told me that the average price for what they do is about 20 kuai. My heart sunk. Twenty kuai? Twenty kuai is about $3 USD. Selling someone for the equivalent of a few measly dollars. I tried to wrap my head around the idea. But it wasn’t just an idea, was it? It was their reality. It isn’t just a figure or a statistic, is it? It is a body, a heart, a mind, a soul – a person. A real live, breathing, feeling person. For twenty kuai. For three bucks. I swallowed the surge of emotion that rose up in me. These women weren’t just a face on a poster anymore. These people were no longer merely a sad statement made from a stage. These girls were no more just a global cause. They are the people whose eyes I looked into. She is the woman who I smiled at as I walked down the street. They are our Father’s daughters too. And they are hurting and enslaved by a broken world. Please join me in lifting them up and asking our Father to heal them in the way only His love can. Thanks be to our father that He is faithful to restore.

Longjohns, bus-stops, and snowflakes.

Needless to say, longjohns and sweaters have become my constant companions these days. The cold has definitely taken some getting used to. On average it is at least a few degrees below freezing here, even in the day. My southern Californian blood feels frozen in my veins sometimes. The other night, very late, I was waiting and waiting at the bus stop for my bus to come so I could go home and burry myself in my covers. But the bus just wouldn’t come and it was below freezing. My eyes started to water and my cheeks were burning. I had lost feeling in my toes and my legs were going numb too. I was getting quite impatient and miserable, and began to slip into a rather grumpy mood. But then something magical happened! It began to snow! (which is rare here since it’s so dry!) The white little specks danced through the air and swirled and landed on the ground all around me. The neon lights of the buildings (China is a sight to see at night! EVERYTHING lights up in neon colors!) and the lights in the trees twinkled and sparkled in the snowy moonlight. And then my eyes began to water for a different reason. I was suddenly breathless, not because of the cold, but because of the beauty of the night, the snow, the lights, and the people standing with me in the dark at that bus stop. My heart was filled with gratitude. I still couldn’t feel my toes, but I was so happy to be standing there in the snow. I was so happy to enjoy the little things. I was so happy that our Dad is forever good, beautiful, and loving. And I was happy my bus finally came too.

A Happy Birthday.

Written on October 30th, 2011.

Today is my nineteenth birthday. This is the first birthday in many, many years that I am not sad.

As a kid I always cried on my birthday. Turning another year older was so sad to me. I didn’t like growing up. Growing up means change. Change is hard. Hard things hurt. I don’t like to hurt. I didn’t like growing up. I did not like the idea of familiar and beloved things having to pass away and having to face the new and foreign future. If it were not for the ice-cream and presents I probably would have boycotted my birthday altogether. Birthdays, even as an eight year old, were a solemn and gloomy day for me.

But it was different this year. This year I am in China for my birthday. This year I am not sad. This year I am not afraid to grow up.

Three weeks ago I got on an airplane. I stumbled down the aisles of seats in a daze. I found my way to seat A16 and sat down. I stared blankly at the back of seat in front of me. Suffering from a severe lack of sleep, my eyelids grew heavy. The engine started and the plane began to make its way down the runway. The airplane picked up speed and the sound of the engines grew louder. My eyelids suddenly flew open. My heartbeat quickly caught up with the speed of the plane I was apparently sitting on. My breathing came in short and sudden gasps for air. What am I doing?! I thought in a moment of panic. I turned and looked out the window as the ground slipped out from beneath us. Los Angeles City quickly grew to be but a small pile of concrete. My heart skipped a beat. Maybe two beats. “What am I doing?” I asked aloud. My cheeks became flushed and my hands gripped the armrests. I forced myself to take a deep breath. Suddenly the reality of what had happened, what was happening, and what was going to happen hit me like a bag of bricks. I was stunned. My mind was reeling and my lungs just couldn’t seem to get a hold of any oxygen. I was on a plane headed for China. I was moving to China. My eyes blurred as I tried to clear my head. A mixture of panic, excitement, fear, exhaustion, happiness, confusion, and disbelief gripped my heart. “What am I doing?!” I asked again. Obeying. He answered.

I have been here for almost three weeks now. And I know this is where I belong. There is not a doubt in my mind that I am supposed to be here right now. I am getting to know a new culture, a new language, new people, and a new way of life. But most of all, I am getting to know myself, and the One who put me together.

I’m not afraid of growing up this time. Yeah, sure, change is uncomfortable. Yes, change is still hard. But I see the richness that awaits me. I yearn for fullness. I long to be made whole. I want to be who I was made to be. I want to experience more of Him. I want to be who He intended me to be. I am not sad this year. I am happy for the new things He has for me. I am grateful for my present blessings, and even for my present trials. I am excited for this next year. And I am excited for the ones that will follow. I am excited to grow up. I am happy.

Today I truly had a happy birthday

Here I am

I have ceded to myself. I have stubbornly avoided starting a blog, because, well, I just didn't want to. I didn't want to for multiple reason and also for no reason at all. But, here I am. Blogging. The part of me who was reluctant has ceded to the part who was not.
What is this blog about? I have no idea. We shall both find out together. But I hope more than anything it will be a place for me to share my thoughts, experiences, musings, stories, and adventures of the journey of life I currently find myself on. Less than 5 months ago in a rare and random moment of spontaneity I sent off this little application for an internship position under the general director of a non-profit organization I had never heard of that worked in Asia. I told almost no one I had done so, I even kept it a secret from my reasonable, practical, fearful little self. I sent the application off in a rare moment of complete and utter faith. A faith based on a knowledge that my Father is an incredibly good Father and that if I, as I did in that moment, wanted nothing more than to commit my way to His ways, no matter what that was, that He would do His will with me and that His will was the best possible option. And He did. And He does. I'm not sure how it happened, but at this very moment I sit in Asia. My wildest dreams have come true. And it feels all like a dream. Yet this is the most real thing I have ever experienced. It is the most alive I have ever been.