The Sound of One Girl Crying

“Ramona says the sadness inside is unbearable. Her childhood made her afraid of white people.”

By Kisa MacDonald | Twitter: @kisamac

 You know what it’s like, when a little girl cries. She sobs uncontrollably.

Tears overflow. Cheeks get soaked. Shoulders get all scrunched up. Her little gasps for air get bigger and bigger. But eventually, she starts breathing again. She remembers that somebody loves her. Tears stop. Life goes on.

Red-cheeked with fear, this one little girl asked quietly for her mother. Tears began to fall down her cheeks. Her teacher responded quickly. The little girl could not stop crying.  In a fit of anger, the teacher suddenly kicked her. She fell backwards, down a flight of stairs, and died.

Her mother came back to the school. The teacher told her: “We do not know where your daughter went; she ran away.”

Nobody knows where she is buried.

Sacred Story

Ramona tells me this story: a complete stranger, waiting to be picked up from the ferry arrivals lounge. She tells me that she saw the little girl fall, and die.  She was always terrified to cry in school, after that.

The dusky waves come into Departure Bay. While we wait, Ramona tells me a few more stories. It is hard to realize how this happened. Here. On the gorgeous island that always feels like home to me. Her words linger in the atmosphere, dancing between us like lights.

Ramona says the sadness inside is unbearable. Her childhood made her afraid of white people. Her voice shakes. She tells me of more rapes and beatings. I watch her, reflecting the pain and reality of it. She asks how healing is possible.

She wants her spirit to be free.

I feel a deep sense of awe at the tenacity of her life. Her courage outshines the sun.

Truth and Reconciliation

I know that her story is true. I have researched and wept over many stories just like hers. I have seen the black and white photographs. I have heard similar words, from different voices. Ramona told me her story, simply because it needed to be told. But her story echoes the stories of others. The Canadian Truth and Reconciliation Commission is providing a unique opportunity to speak and hear the truth about the experiences of aboriginal children in residential schools, and to seek healing.

Dusk comes, and it’s time to go. I lean forward and tell her how her words have touched me, deeply. I will not forget them.  I tell her it is time for her healing, and that her words have meant a lot to me.

When I look at her, the deep-setting sadness in her eyes hits me like a wave. Tears begin to stream down her face.

I cannot stop them from falling.

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About Kisa:

Kisa completed her law degree earlier this year and is currently finishing her articling year at a non-profit that focuses on law reform, legal research and outreach. She grew up on Vancouver Island but has lived all over: North America, Southeast Asia and Europe. In this next season of life, she hopes to see creative community and access to justice established in Vancouver.

Wellness Wednesday: Five Stages Through Thin

The Discourse of Thin: In the U.S. alone, up to 24 million people of all ages and genders suffer from an eating disorder.

By Natasha Files | Twitter: @natashafiles

Today I want to acknowledge every woman, sister and friend who struggles to be healthy and whole. It’s easy to read, write and talk about a healthy lifestyle, but much harder to genuinely walk it out.

While God desires to empower us as women, so often the world taunts is to conform to unrealistic standards.

I know the devastation that comes from impractical expectations for my own weight and shape and I write this post in desperation, asking that we rally together and stand up for what we believe to be true.

Facing the Mirror

It’s a common struggle—our desire to be beautiful. But eating disorders is a trap that affects more than 500, 000 Canadians. Up to 24 million people of all ages and genders suffer from an eating disorder (anorexia, bulimia and binge eating disorder) in the U.S.

According to the American Journal of Psychiatry, eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. It blows my mind that one of the leading causes of death among a group of individuals could be so heavily fueled by the discourse of thin.

While I am grateful I have recovered from an eating disorder, I have also witnessed every possible other disordered outcome, including death. I have seen how staying silent in fear of perhaps saying the wrong thing can lead to destruction. So, if you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, I beg you to speak up.

Is It An Eating Disorder?

- To do a simple online quiz to detect signs of an eating disorder, click here: psychcentral.com/eatingquiz

- If you or someone you know is struggling, I encourage you to seek professional support. I have listed links to provincial and international resources at the bottom of this post.

Understanding Recovery

Before giving a how-to, I think it’s important to highlight one of the ways we understand recovery. In the early 1980s the psychologist James Prochaska identified some key steps to successful change. These “Stages of Change” are still widely used to explain change related to addictions and eating disorders. Although the stages are in a specific order, it’s not irregular for individuals to slide forwards and backwards before successfully stepping into the final stage of  ”Termination”:

Five Stages of Change

- Precontemplation: person refuses to acknowledge she has a problem

- Contemplation: person knows she has a problem, but is hesitant to change

- Preparation: person makes a commitment to change and identifies an action plan

- Action: person uses her action plan and stops destructive behaviours

- Maintenance: person continues using action plan and positive choices

- Termination: person finds new/healthy behaviours to be automatic and urges to use destructive behaviours have disappeared

Towards Freedom

With the understanding that Recovery is not a single event, but a journey walked out over time, here are five key points I have come to understand regarding the life of an individual who is struggling:

1. The eating disorder is NOT just about food. It could be about numerous things, including: self-soothing, avoidance (of memories, sexuality, fear, etc), control, self-concept, identity, safeguard against failure, preservation of the family unit, etc. To read Joanne Dolhanty’s in-depth article about this click here.
2. The eating disorder was NOT developed to gain attention. While some individuals may struggle with healthy attachment and relationships, self-starvation/bingeing is rooted in more than a desire to be noticed.
3. Telling an individual to “just eat” or forcing them to eat and gain weight will not solve the problem. A combination of spiritual, emotional, psychological and nutritional support can assist recovery.
4. An individual may refuse help. It’s a scary thing to think about, but it can happen, especially if an individual is precontemplative. If this happens, remain supportive, but also maintain personal boundaries to avoid burnout (think self-care!) If the individual refuses treatment, ask if she will at least see a doctor for medical monitoring. If she severely deteriorates, there are ways (under the Mental Health Act) to force re-nourishment. Phone her doctor or your local emergency room for further information.
5. Recovery IS possible. Recovery takes time and can be exhausting. When the individual finds it hard to hope, encourage her that you are holding hope for her. Be compassionate, ask how you can best support her, and believe that recovery is possible.

Unconditional Love

It’s OK if you don’t know what to do. Unless designated otherwise, the best role a support person can take on is as unconditional cheerleader. When I was struggling, I most appreciated my support people who were honest, had good personal boundaries and approached my situation without judgment

If you are the individual who is struggling, please know it’s never too late to recover. You aren’t a failure for being stuck; it’s just that whatever you are currently doing isn’t working for you. You deserve to be free and your situation isn’t the exception to this rule.

I am passionate about women joining together to fight against disempowerment. I would love to hear some of the ways you ensure the women in your world know they are beautiful and loved.

RESOURCES:

• British Columbia

Kelty Mental Health Resource Centre: BC’s eating disorder information and referral centre

www.keltymentalhealth.ca or call toll-free 1-800-665-1822

• Canada

National Eating Disorder Information Centre

National help, support, information on eating disorders and local referrals

www.nedic.ca or call toll-free 1-866-NEDIC-20 (1-866-633-4220)

• International

Mercy Ministries

Residential treatment for girls between the ages of 13-28 struggling with life-controlling issues, including eating disorders.

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ALSO SEE: Eating Disorders: What if I say the Wrong Thing and Make Things Worse?

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About Natasha:

Natasha Files is a clinical social worker specializing in mental health and eating disorders. She loves the ocean and mountains and will never say no to a shot of espresso. Natasha’s passion is to support women as they re-author their stories from oppression to freedom.

Dark is Beautiful: Learning to Love the Skin I’m In

“I want to give to young children the gift that was recently given to me: The color of your skin is not a cross you bear. It is beautiful.” 

By Lydia Durairaj

As a child and through my teens, I was often told I had so many admirable qualities that could mask the one undesirable one: my dark skin. Apparently, if I didn’t posses those “admirable” qualities, then the color of my skin would be a heavier cross to bear.

Accepting my “weakness” initially meant dealing with it the only way the world taught me. Education is an important tool used to bridge the gap between the haves and the have-nots in India. It also enables us darker girls to find our foothold in a society that undermines our value as a person.

Living in a Color-conscious World

When I worked at an inner city school in Long Beach, California, a young African-American student made the observation that she was black and yet, I was darker than she. When I returned to India to visit my sick grandmother, she remarked that even the U.S couldn’t “help me with my color.” It’s not easy to ignore these comments or the barrage of fair-skin propaganda in the media.

As I grew older, I learned to define beauty beyond color. Migrating to the U.S. helped with that process. It’s now been six years since my husband and I moved back to India. Even though I’ve embraced God’s mold for me, I still live and breathe the same air that is tainted with a preference for people unlike me.

For centuries, fair or light skin color has been a symbol of prominence, superiority and higher social ranking. An Indian girl’s marriage prospects have been— and still often are— governed by the hue of her skin. Skin whitening products today are a half-billion-dollar industry, with the latest products tailored to lighten even underarms and private parts.

Color bias crosses nations, ethnicities, races and socio-economic lines. The birthplace of colorism cannot be traced to a country or geographic region, but to the hearts and minds of those who have perpetuated this preference. Colorism impacts our thinking and our choices— whether we choose to notice it, disregard it or accept it.

Dark is Beautiful Campaign

The idea of standing up to color bias was introduced to me by a small NGO in Chennai that I now work for, called  Women of Worth. The director, a vivacious lady who witnessed the degenerating spirits of dark girls in the city, wanted to speak out against the propagation of fair skin supremacy. This gave birth to the Dark is Beautiful campaign, which aims to instill a sense of pride and comfort in one’s skin, no matter what shade of white, yellow or brown it is. 

The organization got the people of Chennai to lend their voice on this issue using various forms of artistic expressions like painting, photography, poetry and short story. For the first time,the words dark is beautiful reverberated in a public platform—not in the comfort of my mom’s shoulders or in the quietness of my meditating spirit—but in newspapers, radio waves, television news broadcasts, and social networking sites. For the first time, I witnessed people being challenged to shed their bias and value humanity.

The Gift of Color

For too long, I believed my skin color represented blemish, dirt and filth. Instead of waiting in the shadows, I should have taken my rightful place in school plays or family reunions. But I share an unspoken space and language with many other dark-skinned people who’ve hidden behind someone in a group photo, covered their smiles with the palms of their hand, and convinced themselves that they are beautiful— inside (whatever that means).

I can identify with children who struggle to comprehend their beauty and self-worth. In between hidden smiles, shy glances, and mesmerized looks of approval at the charming fair-skinned beauties, often lays helplessness, regret and shame.

As I continue to work with the Dark is Beautiful campaign, I want to give to young children the gift that was recently given to me: The color of your skin is not a cross you bear. It is beautiful. Our varied shades are expressions of our creator including and inviting us all to be his children.

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About Lydia:

Lydia Durairaj lives in Chennai, India with her husband and two children. In the coming school year, her goal is to help take Dark is Beautiful workshops to 45 schools and colleges.

TGIF: My “30 Going on 13″ Moment

On forgotten business cards, my Jambalaya family and sleeping in the backseat of a minivan.

by Tina Francis | Twitter: @teenbug
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I got a promotion at work last year. Not the kind that results in a corner office, prime parking spot and stock options. But the kind where you get a moderate raise, a fancy title, continue to do your old job (with the dream of a replacement—“soon”), work longer hours and get a fresh stack of business cards.

I find the practice of swapping business cards archaic and awkward. Much like a good handshake, handing out a business card is an art form. I lack the prerequisite swagger needed to hand them out with any semblance of credibility.

This guy has swagger:

In stark contrast, I’ve got a lot more of this going on:

When I’m not moonlighting as a sandwich consultant, I work with engineers. In my experience, most engineers consider non-engineers, an overhead cost, and “a suit”.

Now add the fact that: I’m female (minority), younger to my peers (inexperienced), a communication major (fluff degree) with work experience in TV broadcasting (condescending smirk). Let’s just say, the odds are stacked against me.

My business card is the neon stamp of approval that grants me access to this otherwise members-only club.

Without it, I’m basically toast. This is where my story begins.

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On the eve of a business trip to Toronto, I was working late at the office. Seriously sleep-deprived, I eventually packed my bags to go home but had a sneaking suspicion I was forgetting something important.

You know where this is going …

At the tail end of my 1.5-hour commute home, it dawned on me: I’d forgotten to grab my business cards.

I was catching an early morning flight, still had to pack, do laundry and make crucial changes to a presentation. This (this!) lapse in planning was a boo-boo of epic proportions.

While I wanted to go into a “Jim Carrey-esque” meltdown, i.e. slamming my head into the steering wheel, I started crying angry defeated tears instead.

How could I forget to pack them after my boss reminded me? All this work on a presentation and I wasn’t going to make a professional first impression! Nobody wants to be on the team with the person who “ran out of business cards.”

7:30 pm

After raging crying on my driveway for three minutes, I walked into the kitchen where my parents were eating dinner. Afraid I was going to burst into tears, I avoided eye contact and rinsed out my lunch Tupperware in the sink.

“I forgot to grab my business cards,” I said in a monotone Terminator voice. “I really needed them for my trip.”

“Do you have any extra cards at home?” my mom asked.

I exhaled and nodded my head, “No.” I served myself a plate of food, then headed up to my room.

7:45 pm

Back in the kitchen. I was washing my empty plate, when my dad, who was now munching on a fistful of sweet sticky dates said, “If you want to pick up the cards, I can drive you.”

I looked up at him tentatively and said, “But it’s an hour-and-a-half away …”

Half-chewing he replied, “That’s okay. There won’t be any traffic this time of the night.”

“Are you sure … ?” my voice trailed off.

My mom who was clearing the dinner table urged, “Go get dressed.”

Just as I was about to climb into the minivan, I noticed my mom standing right behind me with a pillow and a blanket.

“Get in the backseat,” she said handing me the pillow and the blanket. “You can rest on the drive there.”

“The family is a haven in a heartless world.”
- Christopher Lasch

You Can Rest

As I climbed in the van, I felt my knees buckle and my lips quiver.

The words, “You can rest,” made my head spin.

Remember that movie “13 going on 30” where Jennifer Garner plays a game on her 13th birthday and wakes up as a 30-year-old woman? Well, this moment, was the exact opposite.

Here I was, an able-bodied 30-year-old woman, in scuffed sneakers, an oversized hoodie, whimpering in the backseat of my parents’ minivan with a blankie. For crying out loud!

First I was crying, because I love the relationship my parents share. They truly enjoy each other’s company–whether it’s going to buy a bag of mulch for the backyard, or driving their adult daughter to pick up business cards in the middle of the night.

Then I was crying, because I realized they had loved 30-year-old me for as many years. Thirty years of being bailed out, taken care of and consoled. Thirty years of encouraging me, protecting me and looking out for me. Thirty years of (metaphorically) leaving the light on for my prodigal heart.

Sure, sometimes their “encouragement” felt like pressure, “protection” felt like suffocation and “looking out for me” sounded an awful lot like paranoia. But the bottom line was that these people–my parents–love me. They would go barefoot to hell and back for me.

What about people who don’t have a loving family?

I was semi-hypnotized by the streetlights whizzing by, when I realized we were driving through Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside (DTES), a.k.a. “the rough part” of town. Just outside the protected bubble of my minivan was screaming visual proof of poverty, drug use, prostitution, crime and violence.

In February, I was at the Justice Conference in Portland where I heard stories about lives that took a drastic turn for the worst because of emotionally unavailable parents.

Girls with parents who were caught up in numbing their own pain with alcohol, drugs or multiple sexual partners. Girls who had no one to call after running away from home, getting pregnant, date raped or overdosing. Girls who had no one to call from a gas station, bus stop or payphone.

So the girls went back to their:
… abusive boyfriends,
… pimps, and
… dealers.

They never stood a fighting chance.

A good friend often says, “When you have roots, you can have wings.” I need “the roots” of my family, who love me unconditionally ”to have wings.” I needed a two-hour drive to grab my business cards in the middle of the night, so I could feel confident about giving a stellar presentation at work.

Driving through the DTES, I found my heart overflowing with gratitude for my mom and dad, who were happily chatting away, snacking on spicy fried peas in the front seat.

My family is a thick jambalaya of characters, who share food, bad jokes and the remote control. We celebrate birthdays, new jobs and great haircuts. We stand together in failure, heartbreak and buffet lineups. We sit through terrible high school plays, teary weddings and depressing waiting rooms. We parade around in our pajamas, talk with morning breath, tease each other, address fashion faux pas and wander through Walmart. We are fiercely protective, borderline codependent and wildly irrational when it comes to loving each other.  In a nutshell, their unconditional LOVE, gives me the courage to journey through the good, the beautiful and the downright ugly of LIFE.

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So, dear ones …

- Who cares about your rest?
- Who needs you to show up for them with a pillowcase and a blankie?

Love you more than a comforting bowl of Coconut Shrimp Soup and Lady Apple Cardamom Cake,
xoxo,
Teen

To read more TGIFs from Tina: Click here.

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My name is Tina. Loved ones call me: Teen.

Words are my chocolate. Music, my caramel. Photography, my bread. Girlfriends, my butter.

Confession: Some girls dream about Manolo Blahniks or their next Hermes bag. Not me. I dream of freshly baked bread, perfectly barbecued meat & steaming bowls of Pho. My dream lover *cue Mariah Carey song* is someone who would read out a menu to me in Barry White’s baritone voice.

I celebrate food, ask for help, interrupt conversations, laugh and cry hard, acknowledge the elephant in most rooms, fight for the underdog and believe in the power of storytelling.

I was born and raised in Dubai and currently live in the beautiful city of Vancouver, known for some of the best sushi in the world.

If Anyone Has a Reason Not to Forgive, She Does

The Surprise of a Life-freeing Gift

By Musu Taylor-Lewis | Twitter: @mercycanada

“A living nightmare,” is how she describes her childhood.

As I listened to her, I had to get over my stunned disbelief that this open, friendly, confident-looking young woman with the bright smile had come through a soul-destroying childhood. She made one statement on that day that had me thinking and praying for the life-freeing gift I saw in her.

Her words, simple and clear:

“I want to start by saying that I have forgiven all the people mentioned, and I am not sharing what happened to dishonour them in any way.”

This statement could be unremarkable until you realize  the size of the list of people she cares not to dishonour by telling her story:

• There’s the father who raped her and took photographs of her naked body. Then he let his friends rape her for a price.
• There’s a mother who stayed with that father, until her attempted suicide at age 13 forced the secrets out in the open. Then her mother blamed her for the divorce.
• There were the countless, faceless men who used her body as a playground when she started first stripping, then prostituting.
• There was the pimp who threatened her life any time she said “no,” to anyone or anything.
• There were professionals who stole her hope by telling her she would never function normally  in society.
• There was the man who raped her–interrupting her healing process–even while she was grieving the loss of her beloved grandmother.

Just when I started to wonder if a person could really forgive this much violation, she joyfully shared how she recently offered forgiveness to her mother. She’s grateful her mother received it and apologized. “We are now on our way to rebuilding our relationship,” she told me. Her willingness to forgiveness has put her on the road to reconciliation.

Understanding Forgiveness

I’ve always thought that Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness is one of the hardest things He asks us to do. It goes against our instinct for payback, against my independent spirit that says, “I’m a big girl, I can deal with difficult people myself.” Listening to this beautiful woman tell her story against the backdrop of forgiveness makes me wonder if I just don’t “get it,” the way she does.

She “gets” the helplessness of trying to do things her own way. She “gets” the destruction  that comes with holding on to hurt, anger, resentment and pain. Going her own way led her to mental breakdowns, suicide attempts and entrapment in the sex trade. As I watched her tell her story, I realized that–more that anything–now she also “gets” the relief and release that comes from finally surrendering to God’s way.

Brand-new in her faith since coming to Mercy Ministries, she has fallen in love with her Creator. Her eager-to-follow-Jesus attitude, which lights up her smile in a new way, also makes her willing to go along with anything He asks.

I imagine that when He says, “Forgive,” her question is not, “Why should I?” but rather: “How, Lord?”

When He responds: “As I forgave you,” she might say, “Oh, like that?”

Freedom

The fresh memory of His forgiveness and the overwhelming relief and release she experienced through that, frees her to forgive all the people who made her childhood such a nightmare. That is a life-freeing gift.

Lord, keep the memory of the joy of your forgiveness fresh in my mind, so I no longer feel burdened by your command to forgive but am, instead, freed by it.

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Dear SheLoves friends:

• Is there someone in your life you need to forgive?
• Do you know or remember the sweet taste of Jesus’ forgiveness?
• Any thoughts or comments you’d like to share?

About Musu:

My life is lived out of the calling “to advance Christ-centred work.” I am currently Director of Marketing and Development at Mercy Ministries, working to get the word out about the life-transforming work that takes place here. Prior to my work at Mercy, I directed a Crisis Pregnancy Centre, studied Christianity and Culture at Regent College and co-led women’s programs at my local church. I have four great children and am married to Steven, a gift to me from the Creator.

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Image credit: Someday, by Martina Perhat.

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Upcoming Conferences & Events

 { for women with hearts + brains + hands + feet } 

We want to mobilize and empower women to transform our world. Therefore, every month SheLoves magazine will update our list of upcoming conferences and events for women around the globe. If you have an event or conference you think we should add, please contact us.

2012 Events, Campaigns & Conferences

Free Them: Campaign to Fight Slavery, Feb.

Here ‘s the Free Them 29 Things PDF to download: 29 Things

The Justice Conference: Feb 24+25, Portland, OR

Illuminate: Feb 24+25 (Youth) Victoria, BC, Canada

LifeWomen Conference: May 3-5, Surrey, Canada

Amahoro Gathering: May 21-25, Bujumbura, Burundi

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

Mercy that Makes a Man

“I saw young women experience Christmas for the first time as free women.”

By Alan Koller

I was the guy who was always told, “Nice guys finish last.” I almost got it tattooed on my arm. In Grade 6, I was voted the best boy in the class, in a secret “Girls Only” poll. Three perfect scores. Thank you very much. That should give you a clue into who I was when I was young. What inspired my heart towards Mercy Ministries, however, started in college after two ex-girlfriends’ lives took some difficult turns, following their relationships with me.

Were these situations my fault? No, would be the response by most standards. The message from God, however, was different.

He simple said: “Their hearts were not yours to play with. Their hearts were placed in your hand to honour and respect first and foremost.”

[Insert photo of hand of God cuffing me in the back of the head here.]

Now add the fact that, after college, I spent 14 years bartending in Vancouver’s high-end hotels, seeing the male/female bar scene at its best and its worst. I learned how hard it was to tell who needed help. I wanted to at least try and do something, and cooking at Mercy Ministries, a residential program for young women who deal with life’s controlling issues, has become the way I am serving the cause.

So, what is it like for me to cook at Mercy?

-It is an honour of course.

-It’s fun.

-It’s emotional, definitely.

Each time I walk through the door I have to remember in this home are young women who have been emotionally and physically abused, mostly by men. Many of them have developed eating disorders as a result of the abuse. And there I am as a single guy, walking in the door with lots of food. Interesting, indeed.

Last year I got to cook dinner for the staff and girls at the Mercy Christmas party. It was an amazing night. One I will never forget for various reasons; some great and some not so great. Unfortunately at one point I stood next to a young woman, listening to another girl tell her story about what she was thankful for at Christmas. That young woman had to walk away from me, and I watched her starting to wring her hands with so much anxiety, I felt it necessary to return to cleaning up the kitchen. I stood in that kitchen and thought to myself, What happened to that young girl so my presence would cause her that much pain? I wish she knew I would never cause her any pain and if anyone tried to hurt her when I was around, she would be protected.

That night I saw I saw another girl, upon receiving a Christmas stocking, ask: “What is this?”

How is it possible that a Canadian girl would have no idea what a Christmas stocking is? I couldn’t understand it. I grew up with great parents and had a wonderful Christmas every year. To think a world like hers exists doesn’t make me sad, as much as it makes me angry.  I wished I could go back in time and visit each one of these girls and personally ensure those responsible pay and pay dearly for their involvement in causing a need for places like Mercy.

But as usual God showed up again and pointed out some more things I should be noticing at Mercy.

- I saw young women experience Christmas for the first time as free women.

- I saw tears of joy as they opened their gifts.

One of the gifts was cash for each of the girls. They were given strict instruction that the money was to be spent buying gifts for themselves. [Slightly emotional moment.]  One of the girls asked if she could use some of the money to tithe with. [Emotional moment times ten.] Praise God.

- To see young women so afraid of food, eating and enjoying life at a dining room table was incredible.  Oh and these girls can sing, and sing very well. Best Christmas carols I’d heard in a long time.

- To be sitting in the room as one of only three men and have one of the girls say to the three of us: Thank you for what you do, because for many of the girls here, their experience with men has been horrifying, and for the first time we can be around men and feel safe.  “Thank you,” she said, “It means a lot to us.”

[Insert a moment of feeling completely OVERWHELMED here.]

Words truly cannot express what I experienced that night or any of the other days I have been in the Mercy home. I do know this: I will not stop serving at Mercy. There is too much at stake to sit back and do nothing. What God has ultimately shown me is as much as I would like to find the source of the abuse for each one of these women and introduce those abusers to the wrath of God at my hands, God has shown me that Mercy is the answer, instead. Through Mercy God is building an army to defeat this evil.  The soldiers in this army are the young women who walk through the doors of Mercy. They will be able to help countless other women fight and overcome their own battles. They are going to be the ones who lift others out of the darkness.

My job as a man is to make sure they have the tools they need, the encouragement they need, the protection they need and, most importantly, the love they need to know they are not alone in this fight.

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About Alan:

I grew up in a small town in BC and had a great childhood. My culinary side was cultured at a young age; I still remember standing on a chair in the kitchen stirring custard with my mother. Even though I have always had a passion for food and for cooking, I have never cooked professionally or trained. I just watched and learned. I am very blessed to be able to cook now purely for the joy and love of it and I am honoured to use my gifts to help build Mercy Ministries.

A Mercy Christmas: Generosity Up Close

“I’m certainly one of those thanking God this Christmas, because of an up close view of generosity at Mercy.”

By Musu Taylor-Lewis | Twitter: @mercycanada

I love Christmas.

I love the festive decorations everywhere. I love hearing worship songs at the grocery store. I love the anticipation of getting together with family and friends and trying to figure out what they would most appreciate. I love seeing the story of Jesus told and pictured and sang in unexpected places.

This year, I am particularly struck by the spirit of generosity that comes out at Christmas.

It is amazing how much people really want to give. They want to give gifts that delight, they want to give gifts that provide and want to share in a way that relieves the sting of poverty, loneliness and hurt. At Christmas people give to those they personally know and love, but also give to those outside their circles who are in need. They give as individuals, in groups, in secret and openly. They give in expected ways and in creative ways too.

The supporters and friends of Mercy Ministries are a great example of this. Mercy has a tradition of celebrating with the residents before we break for Christmas. In part, because for some of the young women in our home, Christmas can be a time of unhappy memories of neglect and going without. Supporters join in the celebration by providing gifts that are joyously unwrapped by very appreciative young women.

In Canada this year, we started the Mercy-filled Christmas project just after Thanksgiving–a gift registry for our residents that allows anyone to choose a gift to purchase for a girl in the program. We aim to have enough of each item so that each girl receives one. Well, the response was so fast that we quickly filled almost all the items on the list. While we were very careful to choose items that would fit all budgets, the last item to be filled was the least expensive item on our gift registry!

Within a day we had all twelve cash gifts and iPod shuffles snapped up and provided for by individual supporters who wanted to remain anonymous. Then there were those who decided to get creative in order to give. One supporter put the challenge out to readers of her blog in order to raise money for gift cards. She raised three times as much as she asked for in less than a week! Another supporter put together a fundraiser at her church to collect the money for music CDs and pyjamas. Members of her church in Calgary collected twice as much as they had aimed for and will be able to sponsor a few days of Mercy in addition to giving the gift of warmth and music.

There is more.

Even before we started the Mercy-filled Christmas project, we got a call from a women’s ministry pastor in our area wanting to know how many study bibles they could send over for Christmas this year. And then there’s the December bride who has asked her guests to give A Day of Mercy or Half-a-Day of Mercy in lieu of wedding gifts. I could go on about the families who will host residents from out of town and unsafe homes, and the always generous supporter who is providing and preparing the whole Christmas dinner, but I’m sure by now you have the idea.

To paraphrase 2 Corinthians 2:12, generosity like this not only meets the need of people, but also causes many people to thank God. I’m certainly one of those thanking God this Christmas, because of an up close view of generosity at Mercy.

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About Musu:

My life is lived out of the calling “to advance Christ-centred work.” I am currently Director of Marketing and Development at Mercy Ministries, working to get the word out about the life-transforming work that takes place here. Prior to my work at Mercy, I directed a Crisis Pregnancy Centre, studied Christianity and Culture at Regent College and co-led women’s programs at my local church. I have four great children and am married to Steven, a gift to me from the Creator.

Putting the Fun in Mercy

By Musu Taylor-Lewis | Twitter: @mercycanada

Young women arrive at Mercy Ministries ready to do the hard work necessary to make changes in their lives. They come willing to spend about six months of their lives, so they can concentrate on healing.

The thing is, concentrating on healing takes a lot of energy.

It is emotionally draining to talk about your problems when you’ve spent years drinking (for example), trying not to think about them. It is mentally challenging to replace the negative voices in your head with the truth you’ve learned from scripture, and it may take physical strength to get up at 7am in the morning to prepare for the day or stop yourself from heading to the bathroom after a meal. Every once in a while, in order to keep concentrating so hard, we need respite  from the hard work of healing to restore some of that energy.

Two weeks ago, staff at Mercy Canada surprised the girls with a Mexican fiesta. Staff took over kitchen duties for an afternoon, prepared a Mexican-themed meal, decorated the dining room and had a piñata ready for some fun playtime after the meal.

The girls’ faces said it all. The joyful surprise and relief had one girl moved to tears.

Rest, recreation and free time are all part of the Mercy program, but I realized as I watched all of us relax and have fun, that respite came from the unexpected break in routine. Sleep is scheduled, so there’s enough energy to get the most out of the program. Free time at Mercy can be used to reflect and catch up on assignments. Even recreation is planned so it doesn’t interfere with the work that needs to be done. But the dictionary definition of “respite” is:

a temporary relief from something trying or difficult.

The brief interruption from the work of healing, in the fun of a Mexican fiesta, provided relief from the work of concentrating so hard, provided a moment of lightness for staff and an opportunity for  the girls to simply be  joyful and childlike without trying, or working at it.

It all reminded me of advice from Ecclesiastes 8:15

“So I recommend having fun, because there is nothing better for people in this world than to eat, drink, and enjoy life. That way they will experience some happiness along with all the hard work God gives them under the sun.”

God’s program of healing and wholeness is always perfectly balanced, and so in seasons of concentrated work He recommends spontaneous, healthy doses of fun!

About Musu:

My life is lived out of the calling “to advance Christ-centred work.” I am currently Director of Marketing and Development at Mercy Ministries, working to get the word out about the life-transforming work that takes place here. Prior to my work at Mercy, I directed a Crisis Pregnancy Centre, studied Christianity and Culture at Regent College and co-led women’s programs at my local church. I have four great children and am married to Steven, a gift to me from the Creator.