ShePonders: Fasting

On Lent, fasting and what God requires of us.

“We are not able to substitute a forty-day fast for daily habits of justice.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha | Twitter: @keljnik

On the eve of Ash Wednesday, many of the faithful turn their thoughts to fasting. “What should I fast for the forty days of Lent?”  However, I imagine other questions circulating like: “What is the purpose of fasting? Does fasting even work?”

God seems to speak right into this very line of questioning in Isaiah 58. I’d like to imagine that He said these words right before a holy day or amid the preparations for a religious festival on the Jewish calendar. Right in the thick of the ritual fast, right as the people were questioning the efficacy of fasting … He spoke.

The people ask God why He does not give them His divine attention as they are fasting and sacrificing so much. And the response: “You call this a fast?  You might be denying yourself some little things but you continue to indulge in injustice by paying low wages, exploiting your workers, quarreling and getting into fist fights.”

God then outlined the kind of fast that would get His attention:

“ … to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts.” (The Message)

He continued saying that when we share our food, our home, our clothes and our time with our neighbors, then we will have His attention.

When we participate in the work of justice–it is a holy and God-ordained enterprise. When we are advocating for land rights, refusing to purchase goods made with slave labor, securing identity cards for women at the margins and demanding better education in the ghetto, we work in tandem with God. When we engage in such work, we already have His proximity, His presence and His undivided attention. When we pay fair wages to our employees, create safe work environments, help a single mother with childcare or invite a famished friend to our table–we already have God’s attention.

God does not require a ritual fast, He asks for us to be good neighbors. We are not able to substitute a forty-day fast for daily habits of justice. So fasting does not work as a gimmick to garner God’s attention. We know that He is near to the broken-hearted and so when we draw near to them as well, we are all closer to Him as we move toward justice, abundance and goodness in the neighborhood.

But God is not done with His admonition. He tells the dissatisfied fasters that if they begin to feed the hungry and tend to the afflicted, amazing things will begin to happen around them! God promises to guide them, nourish and strengthen them. And then there is this:

“You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundation from out of your past. You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild, renovate, make the community livable again.” (The Message)

The image here is of a rundown neighborhood– a ghetto or slum. This broken-down place has been abandoned over the years, all those who could moved out to the suburbs where there were better schools and safer streets. Nothing works right in the ‘hood, just a tangle of people trying to get by on the crumbs of society. Sometimes they resort to violence and other vices–it is a hard place and nowhere you want to live. We drive a few extra miles in our air-conditioned cars to avoid this very place.

But when we care about neighbors and neighborhoods, we are drawn to these trouble spots.  We sit on the stoop and listen to the elderly speak, we watch the kids cut across the dilapidated playground and we see the women at the bus stop returning from the day shift.  And then we start to imagine something better for these neighbors.

We become known as “the fixers” who can come in and set things right and get things done!  We know how to take the old and repurpose it, to refurbish the run-down homes and renovate (dare we say innovate) schools.  We become those who carry God’s potential for newness into the neighborhood, transforming it into a livable community. Lives and landscapes transformed by neighborliness … this is what God had in mind all along.

And as neighborhoods are turned around, we are given new names:

“You shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.”

God beckons us to be good neighbors, the kind of neighbors who little by little, one kindness at a time, reimagine and renovate entire neighborhoods. 

“Good neighbors, not good fasters.  This is what gets God’s attention.”

One thing that is clear in God’s comment on fasting is that He does not desire religious rituals in place of justice. He does not want fasting on holy days– but rather justice every day.  He does not want us to bring our offering to the temple if we have some unresolved matter with a friend. God wants us to be good neighbors–so justice and reconciliation always come before rituals, even before the spiritual practices of fasting and almsgiving.

I embrace the practice of fasting as a valuable spiritual discipline. I will be fasting for Lent. But I believe that fasting is about soul-shaping, not a means to get God’s attention and never a substitute for daily rhythms of neighborliness.

I want to have a new name – something along the lines of “the restorer of streets to live in.” In order to be that woman, the practice of fasting just might help me shave off some rough edges and reorient my heart. Fasting is a tool in my hand, not a gimmick or magic trick. For me, the practice of fasting will help shape me into a woman worthy of a name change!

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My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear:

• What has been your experience with fasting?
• Are you planning on a fast for Lent?
• Any other thoughts or comments?

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AUDIO DOWNLOAD

Audio: ShePonders: Fasting

Click on the link above for an audio experience of Kelley’s post.

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For further reading:

• For a good introduction to the idea and practice of fasting during Lent, check out this article by my friend and former instructor, Mark Roberts: Do you have to give up something for Lent?
• Also, here’s my post from Ash Wednesday last year: I am Pleased: Thoughts on Lent, Fasting and Eschewing Religion.

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About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

Finding My Irreplaceable Thread in the Garment of Justice

“In the garment of justice, your love is an irreplaceable thread.”

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

The word “justice” scares me. It’s not difficult to observe the world and recognise the countless ways in which some people suffer. Simply being offended by cruelty and exploitation actually requires very little of me. Action is far more expensive.

I think recognising an injustice can be a confrontational experience; even intimidating. By its very nature, injustice cries out for a rectification or a remedy. But with the magnitude of the pain we observe, it’s easy to feel defeated.

I felt encouraged then when I heard of a group of SheLoves sisters will be roadtripping to the Justice Conference in Portland, Oregon next week. The Justice Conference? I have never heard of such a thing, but what a brilliant testament to the fact that there are numbers of people out there now who realize it’s simply unacceptable to stay paralyzed by feelings of insignificance when we are awakened to the suffering in our world.

When I checked out the website from my home here in Uganda, I saw the Justice Conference has a beautiful message to share … a refreshing way of helping me understand what justice looks like.

“Justice,” they say, “is a garment, a billion threads, interwoven, interlocked, knit together with strength and integrity. Pull one thread from the fabric and the garment begins to fray.”

Some of the issues the conference will tackle are exploitation, human trafficking, hunger, genocide, gender violence, gender equality, the environment and immigration. Just reading through that list can seem terrifying, but it made me realize how much is at stake here. These issues are so entrenched in our world that nobody can contend against them alone. Every simple and small contribution is needed if we want to overcome them.

The promotional video for the conference ends with this powerful statement: “In the garment of justice, your love is an irreplaceable thread.” And I would add that each one of our voices and individual talents are also necessary. Maybe you’ve heard that before, but it really motivated me this month and I often need to remind myself of it.

Confession

I know we are not meant to be competing against each other, but the truth is, at times, I can feel insecure. Sometimes I find myself looking at what other people are doing to fight injustice and I can begin to believe I have nothing to offer or I’m not doing enough.

But, I’m learning we can’t all be running the same race. It is necessary that we each have something different to contribute. It’s natural that we each align our hearts with a specific issue … a calling that resonates in us individually. As I think of this, and I imagine the garment of justice, I see colour and diversity–an intricate and beautiful pattern.

There is space for all of us.

 Different issues, Different talents

I’m thankful that SheLoves opens doors of opportunity for us to respond to injustice. Here, we support each other and learn from each other’s experiences. We are invited to be a part of so many different stories, but we are also encouraged in our individual journeys.

I’ve seen here, at She Loves, how many of our sisters are driven to action because they are passionate about finding solutions to a specific issue, and they use what is in their hands to respond.

Let’s take one issue–human trafficking–as an example. I admire how Tara Teng used her platform as Miss Canada to shed light on the issue. We need women like Tara to speak out. But, we also need the people who invest their lives working in the field to rehabilitate women and children who have been rescued from slavery. We need women like Danielle, who used her voice and art to raise funds for Abolition International. We need women like Katherine and Annette, who are creating a film to raise awareness.

I appreciate that, even though we can’t do it all–we can’t all travel, create films, fundraise or speak in public–we can still be a part of other people’s journeys and they can be a part of ours. Whether we are cheering others on, donating or praying, we all have the opportunity to help keep the garment of justice together and I’m thankful that each thread matters.

I’m reminded again: None of us can do it all, but we can all do something.

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My dear SheLoves friends, I wonder:

• What comes to mind when you hear the word “justice”?
• Are you going to the Justice Conference?
• What issues shake you and inspire you to act?

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About Stephanie:
I believe in the power of storytelling. I’m a photographer and writer for Fakeleft. Together with my husband, we love sharing stories of courage, of strength in the face of adversity, of triumph and hope. I truly believe that by partnering with others who want to bring change and justice to our world, we can actually make a difference.  I’m learning to walk in my nascent faith, but it’s not always easy. It’s an interesting journey.

I am currently living in Uganda, but my heart is everywhere. I’m a proud Latina from Choluteca, Honduras. I wish I had a Spanish accent. My favourite meal is dessert and my favourite sport is tanning. I blog at fakeleft.com/blog and tweet at @stephmotz

ShePonders: Abundant Life

“When we have enough human dignity, enough freedom, enough food we actually come to see that we already live a life of abundance.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha | Twitter: @kelljnik

So often I hear people speaking of  ”abundant life”–wanting it, claiming it as the right of every Christian. In a world that seems to exist in a straightjacket of scarcity, the notion of abundance sounds like a longed for oasis. The potential problem is that if we do not achieve the ideal of abundance, is the promise of Jesus a mere mirage in sands of our desert wandering?

What is Abundant Life–and can we have it?

We hear about the abundant life from the lips of John, the beloved disciple of Jesus. In John 10:10 we learn: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.” There it is–Jesus came so that we can have abundant life. Boom!

A bit of context is in order here, so let’s widen our lens a bit. Okay, let’s widen the lens a lot, back to chapter nine and the story of the man born blind. The long and the short of it is that Jesus mixed mud and spit, smeared it on his eyes, and when the blind man washed his eyes, he could see. All this happened on Sabbath, which further raised the ire of the already hostile Pharisees. The next 29 verses relay the story of their investigation into the healing. John goes to great length to make clear that the Pharisees can’t believe, are unable to imagine or refuse to accept the reports that Jesus healed a blind man. By the end of the chapter, Jesus basically had turned the tables so the blind can see and the sighted can’t.

I am the Gate.

It is to these sighted-yet-blinded Pharisees that Jesus tells a parable. He talks of sheep, bandits and shepherds. He says the sheep know the voice of their shepherd. But the Pharisees still didn’t get the gist of the story. So Jesus says “I am the gate for the sheep … I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.”  And in his further explanation of the parable we come to John 10:10 … “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.” The thieves in the parable come to harm the sheep. But Jesus comes to give the sheep abundant life.

Now we can tighten our lens to this set of verses and get a closer look.

First, notice the way abundant life functions in this parable: It is the sheep that are the recipients of abundant life. Interesting.

In the parable the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy. He wants to take the sheep away from the shepherd, kill the woolen animals and destroy the entire sheepfold.

Access

The gate, however, allows access. Those sheep that come through the gate will be saved. How are sheep saved? They are saved from peril like wild animals and, to the point of this parable, they are saved from thieves who mean them harm. Also we are told that the sheep are able to come and go through this gate. They are free to find pasture. So the gate allows the sheep to be saved from physical danger, to have freedom of movement and ample food.

This sounds like a good life for a sheep! You might even say that from the vantage point of the sheep this is abundant life. The gatekeeper, the gate, the shepherd ensures they have all they need. The fold is safe, free and fed.

[Abundance = Access to enough.]

Let’s not forget that Jesus was telling this story before a crowd of Palestinian Jews in the first century. As he explained the parable to them, it became evident he was talking about more than just sheep.  They were the sheep. He was the gate. The religious elites (among others) were the thieves. He was talking about them!

And if you were a peasant living under the occupation of the Roman Empire, if you were a good Jew trying to keep up with mounting temple taxes-–how would you hear this parable? You might think Jesus is saying there is salvation from the current oppressive regimes. You might hear that you can come and go freely without fear of colliding with a tax collector or a soldier who might enlist you to go a mile carrying his luggage. You might hear there will be ample food for you and your family. That would be a good gate … an entrance into abundant living.

First mention

Before we leave the text, there is one more question I want to ask: Where have we seen abundance in the Bible before? I go back to the beginning–to the garden. The creation story bursts at the seems: “plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth … swarms of living creatures … sea monsters and every living creature that moves, of every kind, with which the waters swarm and every winged bird of every kind … cattle and creeping things and wild animals of the earth of every kind …”  I am out of breath with the sheer abundance from just a few days of created goodness.  Wow!

Garden

According to the story, God created a lush garden as our point of origin. He intended us to live in a place of safety, a place where we could come and go, a place with ample food and so much more! Eden is our first glimpse at what abundance looks like. And as we recall, due to our over-reach, we were banned from the garden. That gate was closed to us … until Jesus comes and says that he is the gate, implying that he is the new gate back to creation goodness, perhaps?  I think there is a hint of that in John’s gospel. Jesus is the gate back to garden goodness; back to the abundant life we were designed to live with God and all of creation.

Maybe the story nudges us to see that the abundant life is not so much about getting everything we want, but about accessing everything God intended for us from the beginning. Simply put–we, like sheep, need freedom and food for abundant life.

Viable + vibrant

When sheep live under threat from thieves–safety, freedom and food look like abundant living by comparison. When Palestinian peasants eek out a living on the underside of the economy and brutal regime–freedom and food look like abundant life by comparison. Abundance equals access to enough. When we have enough human dignity, enough freedom, enough food we actually come to see that we already live a life of abundance.

Abundance is not having more wealth and more belongings; it is having enough to live a viable and vibrant life. We can come very close to the plight of the sighted yet blind Pharisees when we look for the abundant life without realizing that we are already living it!

There are, however, many around the globe that do live under constant threat, those who lack freedom and food. Jesus came that they, too, might have abundant life. When our blindness is cured, we can see our own abundance and see those who need us to be like Jesus, a gate to the abundant life.

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Audio: Abundant Life

Click on the link above for an audio experience of Kelley’s post.

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About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

SheLoves Bubanza Project: Can Love Move this Mountain in Burundi?

This Valentine’s Day, we want to show what true Love can do. 

UPDATE:  WE DID IT!!! 425 women in Bubanza will now get their ID documents. If you still want to donate, any overflow will go to fund the ID cards for the men of Bubanza. #Together certainly moves mountains of injustice. Thank you so much!

-idelette xoxo

Last week we launched the SheLove Bubanza Valentine’s Day project. We are gathering our strength to give 425 women in Bubanza, Burundi, the dignity of an Identity Card. Until now, these women have been invisible. Even though they have their government didn’t count them as citizens. We have raised $4,190 already–only 76 more ID cards to go! We want to give every woman in this community this basic human right. Please join us!

Want to give an ID card as a Valentine’s Day gift? Download your own card (as pdf) here and print it at home. (It looks great on cardstock!)

Please GIVE and SHARE this project with your world, because: 

- This Valentine’s Day, we want to give something that will last long after the roses have wilted and dried.
- This Valentine’s Day, we want to taste the sweet taste of Justice on our tongues.
- This Valentine’s Day, we ask for Dignity for our sisters in Bubanza.

PURCHASE AN ID CARD HERE:

Please ENTER THE AMOUNT $ you want to donate into the white box HERE and then click “Donate”: 

IMPORTANT:
- Once inside the donation page, please select “No Shipping” and “No State/Province” to avoid extra charges.
- Relate Church is kindly processing the donations.
- Every cent of your donation is going towards identity cards for the women of Burundi.

________________________________________

WANT TO KNOW HOW THIS ALL BEGAN?

Here’s the original story:

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Doing our part for our sisters in Burundi on the journey from Invisible to Belonging.

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

I remember the moment well: Driving up Granville Street, three kids in the back of the minivan and Scott at the wheel. I read my friend Kelley Johnson Nikondeha’s latest blogpost about her and hubby Claude’s work in Burundi on my phone:

“Another beginning.“

They were starting another brandnew, God-sized (read: faith required) project in Bubanza, Burundi. A community with over a thousand adults.

I read in the hurried pace of the car, speeding forward through Vancouver traffic to catch a ferry on that Friday afternoon. Inwardly, I was willing a quiet moment … dodging as best I could the crescendo of kidlet voices in the car and steeling myself against the atmosphere of Rush.

I willed myself to be present to the words … to catch my Kelley’s heart. I wanted to be open my own heart to the big work she and Claude devote their lives to.

She drew me in with this picture of a little Burundian girl:

And then these words:

“This week, life for this little girl is going to start changing.”

Kelley and Claude (a native Burundian) have faithfully visited Bubanza since 2008. They started with a small community project with the Batwa people and saw it flourishing through hard work, heart work, commitment and tenacity.

“But Bubanza,” she wrote ”is big and the terrain is tough. Hundreds of families, poor land, no water and no hope. Some have tried to help over the years–helping with some houses, but not enough. Offering occasional food, but only for a few days. No one stayed long. So the situation on the ground in Bubanza really did not change.”

“Hardship was the steady diet of these friends.”

Over the years, over dusty visits, telling stories and much dancing, the people of Bubanza have become Claude and Kelley’s friends. Each a person with a name and a story.

By this time in the story, we were at the corner close to an old favourite Starbucks. For some reason, I was aware of my own place on the earth and it seemed significant as I read her next sentence:

“We will start by advocating for human rights – identity cards, birth certificates and marriage licenses for hundreds of families.”

What? These people–these friends of my friends–don’t have identity cards? No birth certificates?

I’ll be honest: The tears welled up in me right then, just as they are now, in writing these words.

I sat there in the car with my robust family and my own story and these words stopped me in my tracks:

No. Identity. Cards.

Kelley explained: “As far as the world was concerned, they did not exist. With no official record of their existence they could claim no rights, no representation, no residence or real home. For all intents and purposes they were invisible … exiles in their own land living in the shadows of Burundian society.”

I understood a little of what this meant. I remembered the ache of not truly belonging.

While my place of nothing could never ever compare to theirs, that season of my life gave me a glimpse into the cold walls of powerlessness. I remembered how dependency keeps you small and how vulnerably naked it is without a piece of paper to mark your own spot on the earth.

I understood the world of difference between having the dignity of an identity card and not having that seemingly simple, yet profoundly important piece of paper.

The tears were streaming down my face and I had to catch gulps of air through the sobs. [This doesn't happen that often, so when it did, I paid attention.]

Lord, what can I do? I asked.

Lord, what do you need me to do?

Lord, what do you want us to do?

I emailed Kelley and started a conversation … a thread of a hope. What if one day we, the SheLoves Sisterhood, could come alongside these sisters in Bubanza?

It seemed distant and foggy.

But I set up camp by this thought and lifted my heart in prayer.

Then, over the next two months, life started to change for the people of Bubanza.

First, the arrival of trees.

Then, desks.

And, in early January, I read another one of Kelley’s blogposts:

“Come forward and be seen!”

The first 120 women in Bubanza were holding their identity cards in their hands. I could hardly believe it!

The team had decided to make the women’s identity cards a priority. These women were now–for the first time–recognized as residents of Bubanza and citizens of Burundi.

As I read that last post, it struck me how just fast the Spirit of God was moving to bring hope, dignity and strength to the people of Bubanza.

It swept through me too and I wanted to be a part of this God story.

I emailed Kelley that night, late into the night. I fought against the voice that said I was being impulsive, but I remembered the tears on that first day, so I hit “send” and enquired anyway:

- How many more women need identity cards? I asked.

- How much does it cost to get one identity card?

Maybe this would be too big for us, I doubted. I had no idea.

I asked anyway.

The next morning her response laid in the palm of my hands:

“There are 425 women in Bubanza awaiting identity cards at the cost of $12 each.”

Twelve dollars sounded so … doable. I quickly did the math on my phone:

1 x identity card @$12

x

425 women

____________

= $5,100

____________

Our SheLoves/LifeWomen Mama Helen Burns also caught the wind of the Spirit and said, Yes! Let’s do it!

So, this my dear SheLoves sisters, is our Valentine’s Day project for 2012–a way to show deep, meaningful and real Love to our sisters in Burundi.

- Not the hearts and chocolate kind, but the kind of Love that changes a woman’s life for good. The kind of Love that can’t help but change us as we give to others.

So, my dear friend, would you please help us in getting the word out and raise the funds to get identity cards for each and every woman in Bubanza? We’d love to do this by Valentine’s Day.

Would you join us, please, in giving towards an identity card for one woman? Five women? Ten women? A hundred women? All the women? The whole community?

As I sit with our project–and this basic human need of our friends in Bubanza–I can’t help but be reminded of this: He knows my name. He knows our names. And He knows every one of their names. And together we have an opportunity to participate in this beautiful story of Dignity and Justice.

PURCHASE AN ID CARD HERE:

Please ENTER THE AMOUNT $ you want to donate into the white box HERE and then click “Donate”: 

IMPORTANT:
- Once inside the donation page, please select “No Shipping” and “No State/Province” to avoid extra charges.
- Relate Church is kindly processing the donations.
- Every cent of your donation is going towards identity cards for the women of Burundi.

________________________________________

About Idelette:
I like soggy cereal and I would like to go to every spot on the map of the earth to meet our world’s women.

I dream of a world where no women or girls are for sale. I dream of a world where women and men are partners in doing the work that brings down a new Heaven on earth.

My word for the year is “Roar,” but I have learned it’s not about my voice rising as much as it is about our collective voices rising in unison to bring down walls of injustice.

I have three children and this place–right here, called shelovesmagazine.com–is my fourth baby. I am African, although my skin colour doesn’t tell you that story. I am also a little bit Chinese, because my heart lives there amongst the tall skyscrapers of Taipei and the mountains of Chiufen. Give me sweet chai and I think I’m in heaven. I live in Vancouver, Canada and I pledged my heart to Scott 11 years ago.

I believe in kindness and calling out the song in each other’s hearts. I also believe that Love covers–my gaps, my mistakes and the distances between us. I blog at idelette.com and tweet@idelette.

Seeking the Face of Justice: Lessons from Two Former Child Soldiers

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

When we see how much injustice there is in the world, sometimes we forget that a simple act of reaching out and caring can make all the difference.

I can’t say I fully understand justice. Living in Uganda, however, as I hear firsthand the stories of people who have experienced great injustice–people who are now healing–I’m often reminded of what achieving justice looks like. I also learn that in seeking justice I don’t need to become overwhelmed.

God reminds me there’s nothing silent or static about justice. Wherever I search for the word “justice” in the Bible, I come across action. Justice is life-giving, loud and active. He also provides me with many examples on how to seek justice: speak out, reach out and give.

Seeking Justice

I learn that to seek is the desire or attempt to achieve something. I may have the desire, but if I don’t take the leap from desire to action, I’ll never “achieve” justice. Justice isn’t just the feeling in my heart. It’s the ways in which I will choose to respond to that feeling.

I’m reminded that seeking justice is a choice I continually have to make, because seeking justice, though it’s not impossible, isn’t easy. It can be uncomfortable.

It’s not easy

-Personally, I’m not very good at speaking out. I’m shy.
-Being generous is hard when I feel like I don’t have the finances.
-Reaching out requires meeting people and investing my time.

I have to be honest, sometimes I can get lazy, overwhelmed and scared. I can fail to take the leap from desire to action because it means I have to get out of my comfort zone. Therefore, I have to continue to choose to keep my heart and eyes open so I don’t fail to see injustice and take the opportunities to respond.

Lessons from Filder and Susan

Filder and Susan belong to a generation of children who were abducted by the LRA in northern Uganda and forced to live under the captivity of rebel soldiers. Many of them were forced to witness and commit unimaginable atrocities. They were robbed of their childhood and innocence. Boys were forced to become child soldiers and girls were often given away as trophy wives to rebel commanders.

Like many other abducted children, when Filder and Susan returned from captivity, their community rejected them completely. Now they are part of an initiative run by Watoto that trains and disciples this stolen generation and helps them reintegrate into their communities. They have been given the opportunity to regain control of their lives because somebody acted.

We sat at their new home on Suubi Hill, and when I asked them what was the most important thing I as an individual could do to seek justice, their answers were surprisingly simple. They said that if I care, I will stop and listen to those who are hurting around me. To Susan and Filder, former child soldiers, realizing justice begins with an interaction.

“Just talking with someone who has been through something very painful can help him or her,” Susan said. “Don’t pass and go, find out how they are doing. Talk to them, take your time to sit with them.”

Filder added: “Encourage and be faithful to one another, help them, build them up.”

I know justice is not one-dimensional. Choosing to stop, care and listen might not solve all of the world’s problems. But if it reminds one person of her worth–if one person rises up from her circumstances and starts to believe in herself again–then that simple action might just be the beginning of someone’s experience of real justice. It’s easy to think that our simple, individual acts of goodness, kindness, or love are insignificant when we see how much injustice there is in the world, but it’s exactly those simple, individual acts that, when added together, can begin to make real positive difference.

I notice that difference when I see Filder and Susan. These girls have experienced war, loss and rejection, but when you meet them, you see love, joy and a real sense of appreciation shining through them. They are healing, smiling and dreaming. They want to shine that light and share that face of justice with other women in their community. And that’s the other thing I’ve learnt about this face of justice: it doesn’t stop at that one person. It sets off a ripple.

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What are YOUR thoughts?

• What speaks to you in this post?
• When and where do you see the face of justice?
• How would you like to grow in this area?

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About Stephanie:
Stephanie is a humanitarian and portrait photographer for fakeleft.com where she shares stories of hope and dignity. She blogs at fakeleft.com/blog and tweets at @stephmotz

Freedom Starts with Me: 21 Things We Can Do Today to End Sex Trafficking

By Michelle Miller

Today is National Human Trafficking Awareness Day in the United States. Today we stand for Freedom by looking at ways we can be part of the change, starting in our own hearts.

21 things we can do today to end sex trafficking:

1. Address the brokenness in my own life.
2. Oppose the legalization (total decriminalization) of prostitution.
3. Stop viewing pornography.
4. Make lifestyle choices that don’t further global inequality.
5. Educate myself and others about human trafficking.
6. Become an abolitionist.
7. Promote gender equality and human dignity in your daily life.
8. Directly ask the men in my life if they pay for sex.
9. Give women the same opportunities as men.
10. Partner with the efforts of REED and other organizations who fight for freedom.
11. Advocate for just immigration policies and safe paths of migration.
12. Pray for the freedom of men and women affected by brothels in my city.
13. Question the norm of “sex for sale.”
14. Support the education of women and girls, especially in developing countries.
15. Protest the proliferation of the “pimp ‘n ho’” culture.
16. Seek freedom from a lifestyle of consumerism.
17. Contact my governmental representative with my concerns about trafficking and prostitution.
18. Become a foster parent.
19. Do not stigmatize prostituted women.
20. Challenge those who make sexist “jokes.”
21. Pray for healing to come in the area of trafficking and sexual exploitation.

QUESTIONS & CONVERSATION:

• What idea moves you to act today?
• Where will you start today?

About Michelle

Michelle Miller is Executive Director of REED (Resist Exploitation, Embrace Dignity). Founded in May 2005, REED stands against trafficking and sexual exploitation through outreach, advocacy and education.

Photo credit: Hong Kong street sign by Kay Chernush for the U.S. State Department.

ShePonders: Restitution

“… I want to see this kind of salvation come to my house.”
By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

Audio: ShePonders: Restitution

Click on the link above for an audio experience of Kelley’s post.

My beloved South African friend, René, traveled in, bringing gifts of rooibos tea and Merlot from a local wine farm. She shared in our holiday tradition of turkey roasting, potato mashing and thanks giving, not that many months ago. She regaled us with tales from her homeland that left us all thoughtful and thankful, for post-Apartheid South Africa is a complex context. We spent the next morning cloistered in conversation while clutching coffee. We spoke of the theological voice of women, restitution, mutual friends, favorite spices and she offered her wickedly good impression of Desmond Tutu.

Yes, we spoke of “restitution.” (Doesn’t everybody?) She is part of The Restitution Foundation, a group of South Africans devoted to thinking and enacting restitution in their country. They offer this scenario as an example:

“Imagine a man’s bicycle is stolen. This now means he has no transport, and cannot get to work; thus he loses his job. Without a job, he cannot educate his children or support his family. Perhaps he used that bicycle to run errands for the homebound elderly woman next door; now she is affected by the loss as well. Jobless and frustrated, he becomes a drain on his community rather than a resource. What would restitution look like in this situation? Certainly it is not just returning the bicycle. He is not the only person who has been affected by the crime; his family, his neighbors and his community have also suffered.”

“Compensation” would dictate that the bike be replaced. “Charity” would suggest offering some food to his family or maybe school supplies for his children. Restitution demands more, but can also deliver something much more lasting and transformative.

As we sipped the dregs of our morning coffee, she shared about her baggage boondoggle. Our domestic carrier charged her twice as much as expected for her two checked bags. This really put a crimp in her already tight budget. So from then on, each time I picked up the check for lunch or paid for her sundries along with mine at the grocery store, I’d wave it off as making restitution to her on behalf of my country’s airline policy. We’d laugh and carry on. It was a joke–because I’d planned on spoiling her every chance I got whilst she was in town! But the joke had legs– ones that began pushing on me in terms of what restitution means in my own context.

Satisfied

After the final meal we shared, she handed me the receipt for her baggage fees and declared that restitution had been satisfied; rather tongue-in-cheek! All laughing aside, I knew a new word had entered my discipleship vocabulary.

Zaccheus

Walking through Jericho one day, Jesus looked beyond and above the crowds and saw a small man perched in a tree. All the locals knew it was Zacchaeus, a rich man due to his work as the chief tax collector.

Jesus called out, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” The little man moved down the tree and into the street quickly, eyes shining with excitement at the unexpected opportunity to host the Rabbi.

“Lord, half of my possessions I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” It was then, after this astonishing statement of restitution, that Jesus declared, “Today salvation has come to this house … ”

Giving half of his possessions to the poor was an extravagant act of charity–a great start. But the most revolutionary action was the decision to offer restitution to those he defrauded. He knew his riches were gained by exploiting the poor and his actions had impoverished an entire community. His offer of restitution demonstrated his awareness that they deserved more than “charity” (discretionary giving from his abundance) and more than “compensation” (dollar for dollar repayment). His offering made it clear that he was moving away from unjust gains and toward the costly practice of justice. I think this is why Jesus declared that salvation, or transformation, had come to his house.

Think about those who he would repay over the next set of days–what must that exchange have been like? They would come face to face with the chief tax collector but this time they would walk away with a heavier purse–radical! They would look him in the eye and he would do the same and maybe for the first time ever they saw each other as “neighbor.” Amazing! This would mark the beginning of a new relationship between them and a new way of engaging in community life together. I imagine Zacchaeus’ road of restitution was hard and had its share of pitfalls as he learned this new practice, but I am convinced it was a worthwhile journey toward the good that blessed the entire neighborhood.

So, here is the lingering question: How do we incorporate the practice of restitution into our daily discipleship? My Palestinian friend makes me laugh. Our kids play together in the park most days. I think of the policies of my country toward her people, her homeland and wonder how I can enact restitution in the context of our friendship. My state is infamous for poor attitudes and treatment of the immigrant community–is this yet another opportunity for me to find some way of living out justice by practicing restitution?

The Restitution Foundation in South Africa helps whites think about their status as beneficiaries of power and privilege, as well as creating opportunities for them to participate in restitution in townships and other communities affected by the injustice of Apartheid. Maybe we be could reflect on how we might be beneficiaries of our own systems and consider the power and privilege we possess. Then, let’s get creative and imagine how we could practice acts of restitution for individuals of these communities.

It will be costly, radical and deeply transformative. But I want to see this kind of salvation come to my house!

____________________________________

My dear friends, I would love to hear your thoughts on this:

For example:

• Where have you been the beneficiary of power and/or privilege?
• How can you imagine incorporating the practice of Restitution into your daily discipleship?
• Any other thoughts?

_________________________________

About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

2011: A SheLoves Odyssey

“In 2011, we were invited to get up, grow up and take our place in the Story.”

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

_____________________________________

In 2011 (depending on the accuracy of my Math), we published 317 posts. These,  plus the thousands of words, comments, shares, tweets, tears and laughs that accompanied them, framed our SheLoves Story in 2011.

“We have a pulse!”

There was a moment February this year, when Tina wrote these words on my facebook wall: “We have a pulse!” That sentence marked a moment in our SheLoves story. With every post and share after that, our pulse became stronger and more rhythmic. By May, we proclaimed the words to the Manifesto: Let Us Be Women Who Love together at LifeWomen conference and in September, we were up and (literally) running on behalf of others.

This year, we cheered Brandi-Lee on as she spearheaded an idea to gather baby formula for the poor in our city. We bought and sold Christmas cards with Daniela to give to famine relief in Africa and a whole tribe (38 women + Josh) joined with our TGIF Tina Francis, when she decided to run a half-marathon for our sisters in Northern Uganda. Together we ran, prayed, gave and eventually raised over $43,600.

It’s been a B.I.G. year.

In 2011,

-We got angry alongside Trisha Baptie at Hype and Misinformation around Human Trafficking and bought Danielle Hardy’s wall decals to aid children sold into slavery.

- We embraced a lifestyle of Downward Mobility, under the loving guidance of Kathy Escobar.

- We explored new books and waxed nostalgic over favourite old ones, with Destiny Loeve.

- We stopped going to the gym and decided to stop eating hot fudge sundaes and become hot fudge sundaes, instead:

“I wanted my life to be a story that was so riveting, so grand, so epic, you couldn’t put the book down.” –Tina Francis

 In 2011, we were invited to get up, grow up and take our place in the Story.

- We watched dictators topple with Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha as she pondered these modern-day Pharaohs and wrote:

“We are invited to be Moses–standing at the burning bush and accepting a divine summons to advocate for justice in the face of Pharaoh.”–From: ShePonders: Pharaoh, Gaddafi, Dictators and Other Bullies, by Kelley Johnson Nikondeha

- Stephanie Motz Skinner paid attention to the anger in her heart around the issue of Maternal Mortality and wrote: The Thing That Makes Me Angry Now. She quoted Sarah Styles Bessey:

“If something makes you angry–an injustice, in particular–that is as good as an engraved invitation to do something about it.”–Sarah Styles Bessey

So, in 2o11, our tribe did a lot of somethings.

-In 2011, we risked and changed the world.

In 2011, we questioned the status quo:

• TGIF: Why is Beyonce Giving Me Mixed Signals? by Tina Francis
• Four Tomatoes or a Bag of Chips? On judgments, assumptions, ideals of beauty and building my sense of self on a Rock, by Trisha Baptie
• Owning Privilege: On Jesus, privilege and a Porsche, by Trisha Baptie
• World AIDS Day: Change Begins with my Whisper, by Idelette McVicker

_____________________________________

In 2011, we healed a little more:

• Making a Drum: Healing and Wisdom from Metis Hands, by Kisa MacDonald

_____________________________________

In 2011, we learned about amazing women:

- Kamal Dhillon: Even through a Tight, Painful Jaw, Kamal is a Woman who Speaks Peace, by Idelette McVicker

- Clothes on Wheels: Making a Connection in the Community, by Christiana Walter

- MaryAnne Connor: The Woman Behind the Nighshift Story, by Christiana Walter
_____________________________________

-In 2011, we grew in relationship and purpose:

- 1 Corinthians 13: A Parent’s Paraphrase, by Angela Doel

- Down We Go: The Power of the Beatitudes, by Kathy Escobar

- Tales from the Trenches: On Being a “Good Enough” Mother, by Sabrina Connell

- When Friends Become Family, by Stefanie Thomas

- On Unforgiveness and Losing a Friend, by Winnie Lui

- Exposing the Myth of Balance, by Danielle Strickland

- With These Three Stones, by Amelia Englemark

- An Apology to Myself, by Natasha Files

_____________________________________

- In 2011, we shared stories.

- This is Rebecca: Of Love, Marriage and Mercy, by Musu Taylor-Lewis

- TGIF: On Turning 29, by Tina Francis

- On a Midnight Escape and Starting a New Life in Canada, by Njoki Mbui

- What is was like Growing up White under Apartheid: Or Why I Care about a World in Flames, by Idelette McVicker

- The Day I Discovered a Marathon Inside Me, by Ali Valdez

- My Christmas Miracle: On Friendship, Faith and Fertility, by Daniela Schwartz

- Every Woman is a Woman of Worth, by Stacy Wiebe

- A Vet for Very Small Fish: A Little Boy’s Prayer, a Tiny Fish and Fighting the Urge to Bargain with God, by Shekinah Jacob

- Enough Hair for a Ponytail, by Vera Raposo

- The Importance of Moulding my Putty, by Claire De Boer

__________________________________________

-In 2011, we woke up and mobilized.

• TGIF: ‘Cause I Gotta Have Faith-a-Faith-a-Faith …, by Tina Francis
• SheLoves Christmas Card Project for Famine Relief in East Africa, by Daniela Schwartz

• What One Girl and Her Decals Can Do, by Danielle Hardy
• Becoming a Woman Who Does the Necessary Things, by Brandi-Lee Doucette

______________________________________

- In 2011, many of us discovered:

We have a voice.

- In 2011, we were drawn into a higher Sisterhood–learning and becoming women, sisters, friends who call out the best in each other. Women who cheer each other one. Women who propel each other forward.

A Global Tribe

When I visited Serbia in the summer, Tabitha, a new Serbian friend, translated our SheLoves Manifesto into her language. As she read it to us in a small room chockful of about 60 women, tears welled up in her eyes. The air felt so thick with possibility of what we could do and be, as women, when we live out of this vision of Love. In that moment, I knew this idea of a Sisterhood that embodies Love, transcended our geographical borders and human boundaries.

We also know it’s a Love that flows from hearts connected to a loving God.

__________________________________

As this Story unfolds, here are some of the words

that helped frame our vision of Sisterhood this year:

- “Can we messiah one another–propelling each other into the larger salvation story of which we all have a part to play?” -From: ShePonders: Another Anointing, by Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

- “Let us be Mary and Elizabeth for each other, calling out new, brave worlds in each other. “ - RELATE with Helen: Divinely Connected Women, by Helen Burns

- “This, the dark midnight times, are the hours of the mothers.”–From: The Smallest Things, by Sarah Styles Bessey

-”Let us be women who Love.

Let us be women willing to lay down our sword words, our sharp looks, our ignorant silence and towering stance and fill the earth now with extravagant Love.

Let us be women who Love.

Let us be women who make room.

Let us be women who open our arms and invite others into an honest, spacious, glorious embrace.” –From: SheLoves Manifesto: Let Us Be Women Who Love, by Idelette McVicker

- “I remind myself that nobody is in this battle alone and that the only way to break down these towering walls of injustice is to focus on the brick in front of me.”-From:  Avoid Paralysis, Confront the Brick, by Stephanie Motz Skinner

- “We must let our light shine through the cracks. Step into the light and let people see what a real God woman looks like.” From: The Women We Are, by Christina Crook

“… authentic transformational relationships cannot be built upon power or inequality.” From: Down We Go: Why Prepositions Matter, by Kathy Escobar

- “When it comes to doing our part, every drop helps.” From: Tossing Buckets, by Shelagh Hardern

- “She didn’t need to hear my words, she needed to feel my presence. And in more ways than she would ever know, I needed to feel hers.” Erin in Iraq: Learning the Language of Presence, by Erin Wilson

“I think being the change starts where I am and with those in my life.” From: Being the Change Starts at Home, by Stephanie Motz Skinner

“Sometimes we need to see our story through the eyes of someone else. A Soul-Sista can help you find the common thread running through all your stories and you can do the same for her. We all need someone checking our blind-spots, tracking our journey and keeping us on course. What makes a Soul-sista different from a Sista-friend is that she is speaking your soul’s secret alien dialect.

This is the girl that will stay up late at night to help you draw out the maps, outline your strategy and plot out your plan to take over the world.” -From: TGIF: Sista-Friend vs Soul-Sista, by Tina Francis

-“God gives sustainable strength to the powerless.” –From: ShePonders: Renewable Energy, by Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

- “I am completely captivated by the beauty of TOGETHER–a magnificent, harmonious symphony with Jesus being the center of it all.” -From: The Beauty of Together, by Helen Burns

So:

anointing each other + being the change right where I am + doing my part  + Jesus + sisters + presence + mothering + piercing the dark hours + equality +Hope + rising + facing my bricks  + leap + rise + nurture + listen + facing our fears + harmony + pray +work + together = Sisterhood.

In 2011, we saw glimpses of a new and different world that is entirely possible.

In 2011, I believe, we became Women Who Love.

______________________

A very big thank you to every one of you who helps to write this Story daily.

And a big thank You to the Creator of the Universe, who breathes Love into my being–and ours–

and imagined this Story even before we began.

________________________________________________

My dear SheLoves sisters and friends, we’d love to hear:

• What posts, comments or quotes stand out for you from this year?
• What were some of your favourite posts?

____________________________________________________

About Idelette:
I like soggy cereal and I would like to go to every spot on the map of the earth to meet our world’s women.

I dream of a world where no women or girls are for sale. I dream of a world where women and men are partners in doing the work that brings down a new Heaven on earth.

My word for the year is “Roar,” but I have learned it’s not about my voice rising as much as it is about our collective voices rising in unison to bring down walls of injustice.

I have three children and this place–right here, called shelovesmagazine.com–is my fourth baby. I am African, although my skin colour doesn’t tell you that story. I am also a little bit Chinese, because my heart lives there amongst the tall skyscrapers of Taipei and the mountains of Chiufen. Give me sweet chai and I think I’m in heaven. I live in Vancouver, Canada and I pledged my heart to Scott 11 years ago.

I believe in kindness and calling out the song in each other’s hearts. I also believe that Love covers–my gaps, my mistakes and the distances between us. I blog at idelette.com and tweet@idelette.

World AIDS Day: Change begins with my Whisper

On vanilla Rooibos tea, making a (digital) quilt and waving my arms wildly. 

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

_________________________________________________

It’s not enough for me to cry when I watch the trailer of the movie The Help. Just yesterday crocodile tears started rolling down my face again as I watched the trailer with the girls at LifeWomen. Kinda silly, I know, if you don’t know my story. But you see, the images of maids in uniforms remind me so vividly of the separate toilet in our home in Paarl, South Africa. I remember how my mom washed Flip, the gardener’s plate, spoon, fork and knife and carefully set it away under the sink for him to use again the next time he came around.

I have lived inside the pages of The Help; on a different continent, yes, and in a different time, but I know that story’s whites only pages.

Why do I keep going back to my “old story”?

Because my heart for justice was broken open in that place. I know what it’s like to be completely separated from a story happening right under my nose. I know how easy it is to live parallel to a great injustice and think I’m unaffected.

Now I know differently and this knowing colours my core.

So, there was a story to write today and I felt so tired and I’ve been silent for a while, but I knew I had to write this for this day.

World AIDS Day

That’s why I sat in my chair last night when my eyelids begged me to go to bed. I tried to freewrite my way to this story, but my pen felt like a rock in my hands and my head kept bobbing—so tired—wanting to nod off.

Finally, I made some vanilla rooibos tea and ate (another) Martha Stewart sugar cookie.

Truth is:
- It would have been easier to go to bed.

- It would have been way more comfortable to go to bed.

- It would have been fully justifiable to go to bed.

Problem was: I knew I would have to face my own heart all day today, knowing it’s December 1^st.

I also knew I would have to give account to my God for this day.

December 1st?

- Not because it’s the first day we will crack open the (fair trade—so excited!) Advent calendar.

- Not because it’s the day we might put up the tree.

- Not even because it’s one week before my eldest’s birthday, marking my own advent into motherhood.

No, it’s because on December 1^st, 1995—sixteen years ago—I parked my scooter and with notebook and helmet in hand, walked out onto the plaza at Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial in Taipei, Taiwan. 

(Imagine this picture, only on gray day with drizzling rain and hundreds of quilts covering that cemented area.)

On that wintery day in Taiwan, I came face-to-face with the AIDS Memorial Quilt. It was a project originally created by The Names Foundation in 1987 and displayed in Washington, D.C. and finally made its way to Taiwan. This quilt—with each panel about the size of a regular bedspread—was laid out on the public plaza. It was like a whole block of my neighbourhood covered in fabric squares with stories, memories and photographs of loved ones lost to AIDS.

Soft music played over the loudspeakers and I remember walking from one panel to the next, reading message after message.

That year, December 1st became permanently marked on the calendar of my heart.

That dreary day, I read every panel.

I talked to people.

I cried quietly.

I took pictures.

From that day on, I knew AIDS was a place where I had to go stand, sometimes waving madly, so others would take notice; other times just weeping softly because this thing is so big.

In the years since:

- I interviewed Hansen Wu, an AIDS advocate in Taiwan who himself was HIV+ and had lost a loved one to AIDS. We sat in a small tea shop in Taipei and talked T-cells, dignity, human rights and faith.

- I became a fan of Stephen Lewis.

- Then I became an even bigger fan of Stephen Lewis’ Grandmothers Campaign–or GoGo Grannies where grandmothers in North America partner with grandmothers in Africa to give strength and support, so these African granny-heroes may care for the AIDS orphans.

- At last year’s Amahoro conference, I met the beautiful Musa Njoko, a woman who lives with HIV and was literally the first woman in South Africa who shared her story publically. Now she lives her (sometimes very difficult) life to sing and be a testimony to God’s goodness.

- Also in Kenya, I visited an HIV test center run by City Harvest Church and drank sweet tea with women like Becky and Ebby who volunteer their lives to test every person who walks through the door, so others in their community may be safe. This is their heart for God and in their community, where persons with HIV are often shunned, it speaks loudly.

My most honest statement today, however, would be that I haven’t held AIDS close this year. I have been distracted by the many other big things out there.

Then, yesterday, Annie Lennox emailed me.

Ok, she emailed every ONE.org subscriber with an invitation to participate in the (2015) Quilt project.

Quilt? 

Of course I clicked. I read the email, then clicked on the link. Click-click-drag-click and boom! I created a panel for this digital quilt. I just did something. Added my voice. Wrote a pledge. It took about five minutes.

As I read around the site, I realized something: the new AIDS math is astounding me. In a good way!

Current status: 1,000 babies are born with HIV every day.

Prediction: By 2015, that number can be nearly zero.

HOW? By giving 1.4 million pregnant mothers access to treatment that costs 40 cents a day.

The strategy is brilliant: ONE.org is honing in on stopping AIDS where it gets transmitted from mothers to babies. By 2015.

Somehow the numbers didn’t seem eyes-glazing-over overwhelmingly big. Suddenly this HUGE mountain seems kind of movable, with every one of us doing our something. (*Waving arms wildly here.*)

So, today I lift up my ONE voice to this mountain.

Honestly, 16 years ago I couldn’t have imagined reading the words “AIDS” and “end” in the same sentence in my lifetime. But this World AIDS Day, I pledge to stand in that exact possibility—that one day we could live in a world without AIDS.

Here’s what we can do today–simple things that eventually will tip the scale if we all do it:

• Read the facts.
• Make a quilt.
• Write a pledge.
• Buy something (RED).
• And please, let’s stand in this possibility of a world without AIDS today. That’s the place where I’m lifting my prayers up from today onwards.

The possibility still blows my mind a little … #faith #faith #faith

But, I am all for the beginning of the end of this one.

“It can be done.” –ONE.org

_____________________________________________________

My dear SheLoves sisters, friends and partners-in-change, I’d love to hear:

• When did you first come face-to-face with the story of AIDS?
• How will you honour this day today?
• If you make a pledge or create a quilt, please share it with me. I’d LOVE to see it.

_____________________________________________________

About Idelette:
I like soggy cereal and I would like to go to every spot on the map of the earth to meet our world’s women.

I dream of a world where no women or girls are for sale. I dream of a world where women and men are partners in doing the work that brings down a new Heaven on earth.

My word for the year is “Roar,” but I have learned it’s not about my voice rising as much as it is about our collective voices rising in unison to bring down walls of injustice.

I have three children and this place–right here, called shelovesmagazine.com–is my fourth baby. I am African, although my skin colour doesn’t tell you that story. I am also a little bit Chinese, because my heart lives there amongst the tall skyscrapers of Taipei and the mountains of Chiufen. Give me sweet chai and I think I’m in heaven. I live in Vancouver, Canada and I pledged my heart to Scott 11 years ago.

I believe in kindness and calling out the song in each other’s hearts. I also believe that Love covers–my gaps, my mistakes and the distances between us. I blog at idelette.com and tweet@idelette.

The Thing that Makes Me Angry Now

“If something makes you angry–an injustice, in particular–that is as good as an engraved invitation to do something about it.”–Sarah Bessey

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

“I don’t believe that we will make progress on HIV/AIDS without addressing maternal mortality. We will not make the progress we want on malaria without addressing maternal mortality. We will not make progress on getting more children to school without reducing maternal mortality. When a mother survives, a lot survives with her.” – Sarah Brown

There’s a chapter in Half the Sky, the best-selling book by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn that tells the tragic story of Prudence, a young woman from Cameroon.

When Prudence went into labor in her village, a traditional birth attendant assisted her, but after three difficult days she still had not given birth. In a desperate attempt to force the child out, the woman sat on Prudence’s stomach and began to jump up and down. Prudence’s uterus ruptured.

Only then was Prudence taken to the hospital where the doctor asked the family for $100 to perform a cesarean. Her family only had $20, so Prudence remained untreated for another three days, her dead baby decaying inside her.

Kristof tells of how he personally paid the remainder of the money needed for the operation but the doctor decided it could wait another day. By the time Prudence was rolled into the operating theatre, it was too late. Her abdomen was severely infected and she fell into a coma. Three days later she died.

“That’s what happens, somewhere in the world, once every minute,” the story concludes.

Close to home

Not long after that I read about a Ugandan schoolteacher who died along with her unborn child, while her husband desperately tried to find the money to pay for the operation she needed. He frantically rushed around town trying to sell the title deeds to his land while his wife lay bleeding and without any help in one of the country’s main hospitals. Instead of celebrating one of life’s greatest gifts, he mourned an incomprehensible and senseless loss.

I’ve never had a child and so my ideas about giving birth have been shaped by what other women have told me about their experiences. And yet, even with my hyperactive imagination, the kinds of things that happened to Prudence were not what I envisioned around childbirth.

Yes, the thought of giving birth makes me shudder and I think it’s one of the bravest things a woman will ever do, but even through the misty gaze of my fears, I still see childbirth as something profoundly beautiful–a celebration.

Maybe I have been blinded by the safety of my privilege. I imagine that when I bring my children into the world I’ll find myself in a safe environment attended to by a midwife or a nurse who will help me with competence and care. And I believe no woman should expect any less.

But recently I have been learning that, for many women, giving birth is deadly. Their experience is defined by the hefty price that childbirth claims when they don’t have access to adequate care.

According to the United Nations Population Fund (UNPFA) 350,000 women die every year from complications during childbirth. That’s almost the same number of people who live in cities like New Orleans, Florence or Surrey.

But what upsets me the most is that 90 percent of these deaths are preventable. Simple yet critical interventions can help reduce maternal mortality rates.

In developing countries, maternal mortality has been attributed to a series of delays. Women can be slow to seek medical care when they are not aware of the dangers of childbirth. Care is often difficult to access. When they finally arrive at hospitals or clinics, they often find medical attendants who are overworked, unmotivated or simply do not have the resources to do their jobs.

Credit: Tadej Znidarcic for The New York Times. Click on the image to view the whole slideshow: In Uganda, a Failure to Deliver..

In Uganda, as must be the case in much of the developing world, many health care centers don’t even have the most basic supplies, like gloves or surgical knives.

According to the news agency IRIN, Uganda’s largest state-owned hospital has only five health care workers in the maternity ward that attend to 60 births each day. The situation is much worse in rural areas where there are no health facilities.

As Kirstof and WuDunn emphasize in Half the Sky, neglect for maternal health is a human rights issue and in many countries a gender-based one. They note that there’s a strong correlation between countries where women are marginalized and those with high maternal mortality rates.

We are told that women are important for development. Many organizations are urging the world to keep girls in school. We often hear that women tend to invest more in their families. And yet, of all the Millennium Development Goals, efforts to reduce maternal mortality and achieve universal access to reproductive health have made the least progress.

The good news is that there are many people who are already providing solutions. Organizations like International Midwife Assistance (IMA) have recognized that one of the ways to reduce maternal mortality rates is to train more midwives.

IMA works in Soroti, a rural area in eastern Uganda, where they provide free transportation to pregnant women when they need to go to their local clinic. They also run a mobile outreach clinic for remote areas of the community where they teach mothers about childbirth and family planning as well as offer them prenatal care. And they train local practitioners to empower them to provide quality prenatal and birth services.

This solution alone will not reduce maternal mortality rates. Governments in developing countries need to commit to funding maternal heath projects. Access needs to be improved through infrastructure and transportation. And women need to know about the complications of childbirth so they don’t delay seeking care.

I know there’s so much more for me to learn, but I was inspired by Sarah, a.k.a. Emerging Mummy, last week when she wrote, “If something makes you angry–an injustice, in particular–that is as good as an engraved invitation to do something about it.”  So I decided I couldn’t hush this reality. Perhaps we all need to hear more about it. Ultimately reducing maternal mortality rates is about keeping mothers alive.

And I can’t imagine what my world would have been like without my mother.

My dear SheLoves sisters, will you join me in spreading the word? 

I wonder:

• Have you read Half the Sky? What were your thoughts after reading it, especially the story of Prudence?
• What makes you angry?

About Stephanie:
Stephanie is a humanitarian and portrait photographer for fakeleft.com where she shares stories of hope and dignity. She blogs at fakeleft.com/blog and tweets at @stephmotz