August 2009: Out of the Box

August 2009

…if the gospel of Jesus is just some formula I obey in order to get taken of the naughty list and put in the nice list, then it doesn’t meet the deep need of the human condition, it does not interact with the great desire of my soul, and it has nothing to do with the hidden (or rather obvious) language we are all speaking. But, if it is more, if it is a story about humanity falling away from the community that named it, and an attempt to bring humanity back to that community, if it is more than a series of ideas, but rather speaks directly into this basic human need we are feeling, then the gospel of Jesus is the most relevant message in the history of mankind.

What if the gospel was an invitation to know God? . . . If the gospel of Jesus is relational; that is, if our brokenness will be fixed, not by our understanding of theology, but by God telling us who we are, then this would require a kind of intimacy of which only heaven knows. (Donald Miller, Searching for God knows What, pg. 45,46)

If you know me well, then you know that I like boxes. You know, the things that hold other things, and make things look nice and make things easy to find. I have boxes and baskets in my tiny little flat, which hold items categorically: my art supplies, office supplies, jewelry, magazines, clothes, blankets. I have a bookcase to hold my books by category and also doubles as a dust protector against the Kolkata dirt. I like the box or at least the idea behind the box.

But as I reflect on the box, I see that it not only serves the purposes for which I appreciate it but it also keeps me out. I forget that my art supplies are waiting for me to be creative and that things I have been saving to use for just right purpose are buried in a box, pretty on the outside but elusive and prohibitive to seeing right away the thing that will meet my need of moment.

Boxes do serve a purpose; seriously, my house would chaos without them. But boxes are best for things not for God. I’ve found, more than I would like to admit, that I have made God very small and fit Him into my little box. I fear what might happen to me if I let God out of the box. For certain I would be out of control and then I might be overwhelmed with His love and His grace. I might love others without reserve. I might open the door of my heart all the way and been seen by God and others for who I am really.

In boxing in God, I have not found Him when I have sought Him. I have limited God and I think sometimes He lets me, just to prove that my limits work for a time but truly He is limitless. My neat clean box prevents me from dreaming and hoping and praying for more than I can ask or imagine. When I relegate God to the box He is limited because He seems to only go as far as I let him and in limiting my Father, Savior and Friend, I am missing out on the fullness of whom He is and wants to be for me and for the people I love and serve.

I have always wanted my faith walk to come in 3 to 5 easy steps. A list of precepts and programs, easy as one, two, three. But honestly when it does happen that way, I rebel. I am known to have occasional authority issues and every time I am told a rule, a policy or a procedure or a way of doing something I question it. I do not really want a list, that is just my excuse for not pursuing and allowing myself to be pursued by the great and mighty, gentle and loving Abba. I want a relationship, in the deepest core of my being, I want to be loved, love and find intimacy with a pursuant lover. And in the truest way, I find when I let go trying, doing and numbering lists; I find the freedom of a relationship with Jesus. It’s not perfect yet, I still am dismantling the boxes but I am relishing the embrace and newness of discovering God in new ways after more than 20 years being a believer.

God outside of the box is not only what I need but also what our friends here in Kolkata need. My friends “Julie and Monita” need a God out of the box for them to take the first steps of freedom in August as we open the doors of our second Sari Bari location. (Pray that these ladies and about 18 more make those steps to freedom and new life. Also pray for our staff as we start at the new location in a new area). They need a big, big God who can makes all things new, who can call them beautiful, beloved, forgiven and treasured. They need “the intimacy of which only heaven knows” as Donald Miller puts. They need that intimacy because not only is it the most basic of human needs but because they need a transformation of intimacy. They need an intimacy that restores broken human relationship with agape, boundless love.

My prayer is that you too would continue discovering Jesus out of the box.

Much love,
Sarah

July 2009 Prayer Letter: Names

On the day of our birth we a given a name. It is our “good name”, as our friends in India call it. The name is given by our parents who probably spent 9 months thoughtfully, even prayerfully, considering what name would ours for the duration our lifetime. Our names have weight and meaning in defining us, our spoken and written identity to friends, family and even our governments. Our names have deeper meanings. My name, Sarah, which means Princess or daughter of the King. My middle name is a family name, Lucinda, and it means, bringer of light. If you read my blog, you know that the web address is www.princesslightbringer.blospot.com, a name that I have identified with in part and hope to live into every day.

We live in a world that loves to name and not all those names are good. Working with women in the sex trade I see the burden and weight of many who bear false names given to them by culture and society. They are whores, hookers, prostitutes, and husband stealers. Many, when you meet them, will not give you their “good name” but instead give another name that they have chosen to hide their true identity and protect them from the false names chosen for them by society. When they leave the red light area to visit family, they leave their false name behind and again take on their “good name”, leaving behind the other names that plague them and dehumanize them.

Naming has profound importance at Sari Bari. Each woman chooses her name and that name is the name that you will find marking each blanket. When the time comes to choose their name, they will most often choose their “good name”, the name given by their parents to identify them. They want to be identified with their good name, as good women, leaving the false names, the red light name behind.

There is a re-naming that happens at Sari Bari as the women take steps down the road of Exodus into freedom. The renaming happens as the women begin to understand that the false names and the awful names that society has given them do not need to hold power in their lives or in their identity as human beings. We process with them the false names and give them new names. We use names that bring dignity. Instead of prostitute, they are Sari Bari business women, seamstress’, and artists. Instead of a whore, they are friends. Instead of hooker, they are sisters. Their new names come in relationship, in a safe place of welcome and respite from society, and in the warm cleansing embrace of Jesus. The re-naming is a process. First comes the giving a new names and them comes the part where each woman must choose to live into her new names. Living into the new names is the hardest part. Living into being one who is now called accepted, loved, cherished, daughter, friend, sister, mother, beloved, cleansed, healed and beautiful is no easy path. Especially when the burden of false names like rejected, despised, dirty, worthless and powerless has been ascribed and those are the names that you have been living into for more years that you can count.

The “good names” must be embraced. We embrace the women, each one, and call them by name. Just as Jesus has embraced us and called us by name. We are compelled by our friends and their lives to continue the pursuit of women who do not yet know their names. It is the names that move us, compel us toward reconciliation, restoration and healing for the red light areas where these beautiful women live. Bringing freedom to the red light areas is not about a cause. It is about a human being with a name. Ending human trafficking, sexual slavery and the exploitation of persons are truly noble and important causes. But it is the one woman living into her “good name”, into the new names given, which compels our action, our advocacy, and our hearts. The causes must have the names of persons and be framed by the human persons who compel the causes. I do not know any prostitutes or whores or hookers. I only know women, friends, sisters and daughters of the King. And they have beautiful names: Minu, Shopna, Putul, Shakina, Arotun, Josna, Bharoti, Chaya, Rohima and Champa.

Coming in the mail in the next month, you will receive a personal letter from me and you will find some the names of Sari Bari women. These are the name tags we use to label each and every blanket. I have enclosed three names. I hope you take these lengths of labels and put them in your bibles, or on your fridge, and even share one with a friend and then when you see their name, pray for these women by name. Let their name speak to your heart. Speak the name out loud making it real. Look up their name on the website blog and find out a little bit more. Come and meet them in Kolkata and you too may find a new name.

Blessed be the name of Jesus!

With love,

Sarah

not my people

I am frustrated and concerned when I hear things like "not my people." makes me sad. yeah, we disagree. so what? we have different beliefs, politics, ideas about how life should be live, how faith should be experienced and practiced. So what? isn't everyone welcome at the table in the relationship. if we are believers in jesus, doesn't that make us apart of the same body. certainly, we do not reflect christ perfectly as the body. it is a broken body.

i have many concerns about the church body here in k-town. honestly, when i hear things like you are not a believer if you do not attend such and such a church, i cringe. I want to see welcome and inclusion of all members of the body regardless of church attendance. but my stance is to be welcoming when others are not, to include people who may judge me as well as those who agree with me. does one group and one group only have the corner on truth. We have central beliefs that we agree on, some periferals that we do not, and some kind of important stuff that we just not have the answers for, even if we say that we do. Where is the grace for each other in all of this...

i am just as weary of liberal bigots as i am of conservative ones. Bigotry no matter where you derive it from, is ugly. love covers a multitude of sins, so why can't it cover a multitude of varying ideas, belief systems and politics. we are still human, imperfect, broken, frail and created. we can take no credit for our presence on earth nor can we assume that it ours to take for granted, full of entitlement.

i admit to having been a bigot, especially in my idealist 20's, to not welcoming others because for their beliefs or politics, but age, the knowledge of my own failed humanity has brought some humility. learning to offer grace before i expect it to be offered to me. the God of the universe is the only one who loved first, gave grace first. should we not follow the leader on this one? Jesus did not like the religous leaders but certainly he loved them. He spoke truth to them but did not reject them. they rejected him. as humans we need to offer grace if we expect to receive it. it seems more appropriate the we welcome the rejection that is sent our way than that we reject and condemn those who disagree with becoming like them in the process. God forgive me for not embracing your body and all it parts, for rejecting when i have been rejected, for not offering grace to my fellow journeyman and women as we travel this road together.

You are all welcome at my table. I may not agree with you and sometimes i may not even like what you choose to do but you are welcome to share life with me. just so know, you are all my people!

insider...outsider: HUMAN

There is loneliness sometimes in being different but also a beauty in the places that different takes me.

In Kolkata, i stand out, a shining beacon of foriegness, tall, a bit heavy, jeans and big earring wearing different. People stare, sometimes they cheat. it feels heavy, wearisome to not be welcomed because I look different and maybe act different.

the beauty of different is the places i can go with no shame, no fear of cultural reprisal. I am an outsider, not fully in-culturated, though i do try to submit to many cultural standards, still able to do what many here cannot without reprisals. No one judges me for entering a red light area--if they do, i have the freedom of not caring because there is no cultural reprisal for me. and i have several hundred, maybe even several thousand people in the states who support what i do and cheer me on.

Our indian partners do not have the difficulties of different but they do not the luxuries of it either. They face cultural reprisal for entering the red light areas. They face rejection from the church itself in many cases. They give something up to do what they do...inspite of what they might lose, they lay down their lives for the freedom of our friends. they lay down their reputations so the women can regain theirs, they lay down their own preconceptions about red light areas so they can have the eyes of God and the heart of the Father and love our friends into freedom and something better.

There is reconciliation of insider and outside in relationship. We each have something to offer that the other does not...we are a partnership reflecting the body. our reconciliation to each other in all the ways we are different happens when we partner together for something beyond what either an insider or an outside could reach without the others help. that's it really, loving partnership, working together in community to accomplish the kingdom for the glory of God.

And for me being an outsider does not matter when i sit and share chai with a friend in their brothel room. I only feel like a friend, a sister, a fellow human being. It is gift when different falls away and there is no insider or outsider. There is only us in the moment. And it does not matter in staff meeting where we, insiders and outsiders, together dream for the future and imagine what God might do for our friends in the red light areas. We are only believers, believing for more than we can ask or imagine.

I had an afternoon without being on the outside yesterday. I was invited in to just be with the Sari Bari women in their homes. not really even their boss for those few hours, just their friend and their guest. only strange in my unmarried state but really not that strange for many are alone there. it was a gift. it is always a gift when we can see that regardless of color or class or cultural indentity, there is welcome and beauty in our shared humanity. We are welcome to the kingdom, for the glory of God as we pursue each other, becoming one in jesus.

no answers

I walked down the street yesterday morning on the way to sari bari, after filling my belly with the best Puri (fried bread with potato curry) in Kolkata, I saw two little boys had a very large piece of cardboard and had made themselves a little fort right on the sidewalk in the midst of rush hour chaos. they made me smile and turn my head to see them better. And i thought to myself, there is not enough cardboard in the world for the forts that must be in the imaginations of these boys.

I visited one of my friends at the AIDS hospice yesterday. Seeing her breaks my heart and i could barely restrain my tears last night as i thought of her. I fear to lose her even though death might be a release. Selfishly, i do not want to endure the pain of what will be a deep and profound loss to our community and a deep and profound loss for me personally.

And thinking of my friend struggling to survive with HIV and the little boys building forts, i began to think about what needs to be righted about the wrongs I see everyday. And i thought if AIDS can not be cured, which is obviously the best solution, then when are't AIDS hospices palaces of comfort. Why isn't there fair distribution of resources so that those imaginiative little boys could have 4 walls to their fort instead of just one. There are enough toys in the world for all its children i am pretty sure, yet some have more than they will ever play with and some have one piece of cardboard and their imaginations. These are my questions.

I have no answers. Only faces in memory to mark moments of joy and despair, open ended, unresolved feeling with no answers.

This is the story of so many of our friends....

From The Sunday Times
May 17, 2009

A Life in the Day: Mariam Laskar, s*x worker
Mariam Laskar, 42, a s*x worker in Kalighat, the poorest r*d-light district in Calcutta

I wake up around 5am so I can use the latrine early, while it’s still quiet.

I share it with nine other households. Each has one room about 8ft square. Although Kalighat is a red-light district, families live here too, street vendors and stall workers, but most prostitutes live alone like me.

My room doesn’t smell so good because it’s next to rotting rubbish and the latrine, but it is away from the street.

I go back to sleep until 8. My bed is a thin mattress on a board lifted off the ground by red bricks at each corner. Under the bed are the pots I use for cooking and washing.

My saris and underclothes are strung on a wire across the small window. I have electricity, a light bulb, a fan, a black-and-white television and a suitcase.

If I’m on my own, as I mostly am, I make tea, heating the water on a kerosene stove in my doorway. If my babu — he’s like a special client, a temporary husband, you could say — is with me, I give him naan bread and sweets. Calcutta is famous for its sweets: all colours and varieties you can buy here.

Then I go to the vegetable stalls outside and buy ladies’ fingers, brinjal, potatoes, tomatoes and garlic to cook later.

I put on eyeliner, a bindi on my forehead, my jewelled earrings and gold bangles, and I am working the street by 10am. There are three of us who mostly go together — Arati, my best friend, and I watch for each other. I work a little strip just outside the slum beside the Mohambagam football club.

There is a disused pitch and that’s where I go with my clients. Mostly they are strangers, rickshaw drivers or hawkers.

Kalighat is the cheapest red-light district, but I have to work here because I’m old now. I need to make 250 rupees a day [about £3.50]; my rent is 45 rupees a day and I am paying off a loan to my landlord for hospital treatment. My clients don’t have much money — maybe I get 50 rupees a time. I try to make them wear a condom but mostly they don’t. I have been very lucky: I don’t think I have any sexual diseases. There is a clinic in Kalighat run by the Hope Foundation for us. I go a few times each year.

When I was young I worked on a jetty on the Ganges — they call it Babughat. I would go with men on boats they rent. Then I would have 10 or 12 clients a day easily, shopkeepers or truck drivers, and each would pay me 250 rupees.

My own family in Bangladesh has no idea if I am alive or dead. I grew up in a small village with three older brothers and a baby sister.

I was trafficked here when I was 14 by a man who married me. His real wife and children were here in Calcutta, and he brought me here. He sold me to a brothel. I was terrified, but he was my husband and I thought I had to do what he said. I did not have the guts to tell my family what had happened to me, so I never contacted them again.

If I‘m lucky I finish around 9.30. There is a lot of waiting around now, so we drink Bangla liquor, a strong illegal drink they sell on the streets. I drink it quite a lot — it helps. If I have made enough money I go home with Arati, and maybe we go to my room or her room and share some food. But if business is slow I stay out all night.

Even if I finish early, I can’t sleep until 2 in the morning. I worry about so many things. I have had six pregnancies, but I only have one child, Sheila Khatoon. She’s 14 now and she lives in a girls’ home run by the Hope Foundation. I visit her on the last Saturday of every month. I tell her I sweep in a hospital, and I wish I did, but no one would employ me now. She lived with me until she was seven.

She didn’t go to school and I couldn’t really look after her, but I didn’t bring men back to the room with her there. Then the Hope Foundation found her on the street. I wanted them to take her. If my daughter was to take up this trade, I would want to die. No mother can imagine such a thing as this. But she would have had no choice if she’d stayed here.

At night I think of my parents and my daughter. I think of what would happen to her if I died suddenly. I worry about how I got myself into this situation and what will happen to me in the future when I cannot make money any more. Around 2am I fall asleep, and then I don’t dream.

Andrea Catherwood is the UK ambassador for the Hope Foundation

Interview: Andrea Catherwood.

There are many important aspects to the story below:

1) This pr*stituting woman, like so many adult women in pr*stitution, was trafficked as a child;

2) Those pr*stituting women who don't die young from brutality and disease do grow old, and as a result their "marketability" declines making their lives all the more precarious due to their decreasing income;

3) Like so many women in pr*stitution, in order to survive they must have sex without condoms and thus risk HIV infection. Of course, there is great risk for a variety of other STDs as well;

4) Note too how she has lost so many pregnancies. This could be the result of health complications from her s*x industry involvement;

5) In the last paragraph, you can see evidence of Mariam's self-blaming despite the fact that she was trafficked by her "husband";

6) Mariam comments on her alcohol use as a "coping mechanism" -- this is very typical coping strategy among women in the s*x industry;

7) Mariam had to sacrifice bringing up her only daughter, in order that her daughter might have an opportunity to be educated and/or have another means of livelihood;

8) And of course, this article brings to the fore the grinding poverty that flourishes the world over;

9) Lastly let’s not forget demand. The authors of a study centered in Sonagachi (another Calcutta r*d-light district) report that the district’s 4,000 pr*stituting persons serve approximately 20,000 men a day (Rao, Gupta, Lokshin, & Jana, 2003).


Such clear, bright light withers the supposed “glamour” of the s*x industry. So much for sexual agency – this is a brutal, lonely fight for survival plain and simple.


http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/article6282309.ece


Taken from:

The Initiative Against Sexual Trafficking
c/o The Salvation Army USA
National Headquarters
http://www.iast.net/

Sari Bari Second Location: The Before Photos

We just finalized the 5 year rental of the space for our second location. This space will be able to provide for at least 40 women to work for Sari Bari and a small daycare for their kids. We hope to open the doors our friends in August for the first training. Until then keep us in your prayers!

FREEDOM PEOPLE FREEDOM!!

Donate $1 to WMF just by visiting Catalyst website

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In the last two days I have...

Watched 6 episodes of LOST.

Made Honey mustard chicken over a bed of garlic mashed potatoes with sauteed zuccini for Beth and Kyle.

Got a massage...worked out those chronic shoulder knots!

Made sun tea.

Made lime and mint water.

Ate a whole loaf of french bread.

Drank a little bit of Starbucks Christmas Blend both cold(iced) and hot brewed in my press pot.

Went veggie shopping.

Bought a pitcher for the sun tea and a kettle.

Read The Lost language of Lament by Michael Card.

Wrote in my journal lots and lots.

Ate a bar of dark chocolate.

Showered three times in the middle of the night because i was so hot.

Reorganized some house stuff.

Hand washed my towels.

Slept late.

Had maybe 20 minutes of work related conversation but that is pretty good for me on my days off.

Got a bad haircut for the equivalent of 2 dollars and i am okay with it.

rest

I am talking a extended weekend...resting. Rest heals and fills up when I have been poured out. I am always thankful for rest and its restoration.

My rest is not perfect, some friend's are having a family crises, i am in an unresolved conflict with someone, work comes into my home even when i do not seek it. But still this weekend for many reasons, i feel like i have had to choose powerlessness in these situations and let rest heal me. I can not solve the family crisis or resolve the conflict without the other person or avoid the work that comes to my doorstep. But i am choosing not to let it destroy my rest...i let these things come and let them go. It still takes practice...i still have to choose to sit and wait instead of running after solutions. I admit I have failed this weekend a couple of times...but I can see that when i have just sat and waited, Jesus has met me and rest and restoration has done its work.

Lost Language

Our inability or refusal to enter into lament betrays the fact that you do not recognize the depths of our sin. We stubbornly refuse to have our hearts broken by it. The only result is that our sins continue to break the heart of God. It is only after lamenting our sin that our eyes can be truly open to the glorious truth that we stand forgiven, with the righteousness of Christ, and realize that we are in the Presence of the One who has heard our cries with tender and sympathetic ears.

Apart from lament, you and I are robbed of our true identity in God. We remain unaware of the depth of our fallen identities as sinners and blind to the reality an depth of our fallen identities as sinners and blind to Jesus Christ. Confession is lament for the sin that began in the Garden. The painful honesty confession demands is the fabric of all lament, as is the deep need for forgiveness and restoration to God's Presence. it is as if worship and confession are on holy fabric held together by the strands of lament.

The Lost Language of Lament, Michael Card

The old woman on my back

This old "woman" keeps following me around. Showing up when I least expect "her". I have thrown her off many times, sought to leave her behind but when i am most stressed, most vulnerable, she comes back...maybe i let her come back. She jumps on my back again and holds on tight. Makes me feel like i do not know myself, like no matter how hard I try i may never be finished with her. She got her hold on me this week and I have fought to pull her off my back, some days i succeeded, some days i did not. The last couple weeks have left me empty, a lot poured out, not much poured in...that's why I let her jump back on my back, maybe it was easier to let it happen than to fight her off. My choice, my weakness really. It was easier to be angry than alone. It was easier to blame than give it to Jesus. I do not want to be the "old woman", i want to be the new one. The one that forgives easily, pours out unreservedly, does not run from the master's grasp but runs into His embrace. My emptiness is my fault...I poured out but did not find the places i need to receive, to be filled up again. I feel like i am stumbling forward or being pulled backward. That's the way it is I guess. The day we stop growing we die. I have to keep pressing into the embrace even when i am tired and empty...its the only place to be filled up. i have been reading "the lost language of lament" by Michael Card for the second time. It has been a good reminder to press in rather than run away. I can press in with my anger, my fear, my insecurity and trust that God can handle it. When i run away, i only find myself in the arms of the "old woman", the woman i do not want to be, the woman that i cast off, the woman does not walk in her healing and does not live in grace but condemnation, fear and anger. My prayer today is that I will be able to pull the "old woman" off my back and walk forward and free as the new woman that God has called and created me to be...My prayer today and everyday is "lord have mercy, christ have mercy, lord have mercy."

How rich are you?

I was looking at my friend Faye's blog and she had posted this link. It is super interesting. I looked at the disparity between my potential salary, if I raised the full amount each month, and the salary that the production manager at Sari Bari makes. There is a huge disparity between our annual incomes but we both end up in the top 15% of the worlds population. With so much of the world living on less than a dollar a day, it really puts everything in perspective. Check out this link and find out where you stand. Be prepared for a shock!

Human Beings

I just read a couple of articles on CNN about a high class sex ring being busted and i need to ask can we please stop using the following words:

Hooker
Prostitute
Whore

These words demean and denigrate human beings. Of the women and girls who work in the sex trade, selling their bodies, 95 percent have been sexually abused prior to entering the trade (this may include men too but i do not know). I have never met a women who at the age of 7, 10 or 19 wanted to enter the sex trade. We live in a world of sexual brokenness and distortions, why would we presume that these human beings choose something that destroys identity and dignity by its very nature and that now they lack humanity because of it. Whether a woman has entered the sex trade due to addiction, poverty, trafficking, trickery, or even choice (as someone will surely say, if do not--however, i do not believe it is a choice when you have no other options), they remain human beings who by their very nature should be given dignity and value. When those words are used, women lose humanity, my friends lose humanity, i lose humanity, the men and women who use these words to describe others lose humanity. The words we use to describe one another can destroy dignity or restore it. Let's restore and give dignity to other human beings, rather than stealing value with our careless names for those we do not understand or care to know. there are other words that we can use to describe professions or lines of work with out making the person their job. None of us are the job that we do...at least i hope not. All of us are human beings...at least i hope so.

neverending exodus

My heart breaks with every loss, every stumble, every pain that my dear friends suffer on their road to freedom. It is such a long, long road to walk. I have said before that just like the israelites, many may not see the promised land of wholistic freedom. But still I live and work and hope like they will. I was remembering tonight how and why we started Sari Bari...the dream for freedom. We started and began to dream for the impossible, for thing we may never see. We claimed romans 5: suffering produces perseverance, perservrance character and charter hope and HOPE will not disappoint us. We wanted to live like Isaiah 58 was possible...we dream of well water gardens, of places of hope and restoration, we dream of streets and dwellings restored. The dreams glimmer in reality some days and some days it is hard to remember the dreams.

This morning we talked of faith, we HOPE in faith, even though we can not see, we can trust that God IS. These words are begining to answer the question for me of: Where is God drawing you? My sense is that He is drawing me to trust more deeply, not with my eyes but with faith knowing and trusting that what i can not see now will someday be revealed. Maybe that, the dreams I dream for my friends, will be realized, completed. Maybe that the dreams and hope that these beautiful women look toward would become reality. I want to believe it but some days everything tells me all is lost. As I shared my heart this morning about my own journey of faith and I could see in my dear friends eyes that my struggle held true for them too. We talked of our losses and our struggle to trust that God hears us. We named names, we named losses, we named fears, we named hopes...all things that we can not now understand, all the things that we can not see. we dwell in darkness but for the HOPE that in faith what we now can not see will someday be revealed.

So until then we will proclaim with faith that freedom, healing and restoration is possible! May the Exodus one day end and the promised land be revealed underneath the rubble of now!

Never make eye contact with a Kolkata Street dog

Never make eye contact with a street dog in kolkata. Not because they will attack you but because they will think you actually care for them and follow you where ever you go. I have a standard practice of petting while not actually petting the dogs here. I just make stupid human noises that sound kind, while moving my hand 6 inches above the dog. They act like i am actually petting them. They wiggle and wag all over. I do not have much compassion for the dogs...too much human suffering always out weighs their plight. Sometimes i wonder how it is that they can appear so content with so little, they eat trash, they get stoned and run over, yet that does not stop them from lying in the street, taking long naps, playing with each other and looking for eye contact from humans. They are eternally hopeful and amazing survivors. I try not to resent their contented behavior, i mean seriously, they eat trash, but sometimes after a long day I wonder how it is that they can be content with so little and I who have so much still am not content most of the time. I am embarrassed to have written this blog about the dogs...but apparently even they have something to teach me in Kolkata.

A few pics...

Yes, I am stealing Chris' Blog posts because they are just so good...

Vulnerability means to be hurt over and over again without seeking to love less, but more. Divine love is sheer vulnerability—sheer openness to giving…Being vulnerable means loving one another as Christ loved us. If we did not have to forgive people, we would have no way of manifesting God’s forgiveness toward us. People who injure us are doing us a great favor because they are providing us with the opportunity of passing on the mercy that we have received. By showing mercy, we increase the mercy we receive. The best way to receive divine love is to give it away, and the more we pass on, the more we increase our capacity to receive.

— Thomas Keating’s, The Heart of the World: An Introduction to Contemplative Christianity, page 15.

Grace of Brokeness

good questions

i love meeting cool people who ask good questions. questions that they have wrestled with themselves. questions that have a sincerety in wanting to know the answers to the questions. questions like what is the difference between Word Made Flesh and Servants? How does the incarnational commitment look different for these two communities? how is simplicity lived out, as singles, as marrieds, a families? why is there on man for every two women in these post modern "incarnational" communities? why do some organizations fail to empower local leadership? Why does community provide a more sustainable model than the single, i can do everything, warrior model? We had really great conversation today based on these questions.

I am particulary interested to understanding how families in incarnational groups make it work...does simplicity have to be lost? or does simplicity even matter? I know one family who has lived in slum for 10 years in single room with their two kids. They are the exception not the rule. they are fairly extreme but truly hold my respect for their longevity and commitment to those they love in their neighborhood. Most families, need or want more for their families, really for survival and sustainability. There is a conflict between wanting the best for their kids and living in poverty contexts where, though people want the best for their kids, they do not have the ability or choice to provide the best. so there is always a conflict...I have no answers really, my love for the families i know far outweighs most thoughts. I just wonder what incarnation looks like for families...i am sure there is no one way but many. I know my parents at one point considered a move to a innercity ministry in the states but decided for us kids that it would be better not to go. they feared we would lose something. when they told me, i actually felt a loss that they had not gone and moved our family to chicago (who knows if i would say that if we had gone but it interesting to think about it).

Incarnation implies presence in the places where Jesus may not be present in the physical sense. So relationship really means more than the things that you have or hold in your hand. But the things you hold in your hand can prevent relationship, stall it or even act as a barrier. I have been wrestling with the issue of simplicity alot lately. Wanting to maintain or even lower my standard of living but also knowing that simplicity is really more an issue of the heart. And my heart is really the issue. i accumulate because i am lonely, or unsatisfied, or trying to fill some hole in my heart. I sway between legalism and grace. fear of outside judgement and a care-less what you think posture. love for my neighbors who are poor sometimes comes into my decision making but more often then not, my attitude of entitlement governs my choices. i am not sure if resolution is possible really, maybe i will continue to wrestle for year to come. this is also something that we do not really talk about, even a community that celebrates simplicity as a lifestyle celebration. We may judge one another but fail to speak into each others life for fear of having others speak into our lives. We do not submit our purchases, we hide them. We do not ask if someone else might be served by the time or money that use, we use it for ourselves. I know i have not submitted in this area. i want to talk about it more. beth and i have been talking, wrestling a bit. but i wonder how we can be more open in submitting our lifestyles to one another. in the context of international partnership, this is an essential aspect. can i not only submit my lifestyle choices to my north american community but can i submit them to the indian staff. can i and will i allow them to speak into my life in this way. I want to...i just need make that choice. in the states, finances are personal, but in india finances are for the family, everything is shared. so i am asking myself, if my community here is my family, can my finances be submitted to them? can we share everything is common? i hope so...i want to continue to move in that direction.

when to say when

We had the Sari Bari Retreat yesterday. It was A M A Z I N G! I talked with one of the newer ladies and she was so so open. She was so encouraged to finally be able to see freedom and new life as something that was in within her reach. She never thought that she would be able to have a good job in a good place and be treated with dignity and respect. Those are her words not mine. She just confirmed for me that there is nothing i would not do for these beautiful women. Conversations like those move me forward, remind why i do what i do, why i put up with false friends, nasty landlords, and verbal beatings. Their freedom, the people who they are and will be and the Savior who compels it, is sometimes the only thing that makes sense to me.

But yesterday, even in the midst of the resolve, I was thinking of past hurts, recent hurts and wondering, when do i say, when. Do i get to say when? Or is there a point at which i just say that's enough, no more false friends, no more arbitrary rules, no more verbal abuse, no more lying landlords. Or do I never say when and keep accepting the hurts as they come, regardless of humiliation. practicing forgiveness, remembering that i am not the only one who has been hurt, i can identify more deeply with those whom i love through these hard hurts and i can practice forgiveness everyday until even that hurts. I do not know the answer, i know what Jesus did, but that still is not giving me peace at the moment. I just feel a little weary and wounded. Jesus help me.

Where is God drawing you?

this is a good question. i am afraid to ask it because the answer requires to me let go and lose control of the direction i have decided to go. I am going to be reflecting on this for the next month...and i am a little scared but also a little excited about the answers that i may find.

Just gotta keep growing

When you are kid you think that there will come a point when you are a grown up. But i think being a grown up only signifies that our bodies have stopped growing not our minds our hearts or our spirituality. i feel like i am continually challenged to keep growing...though i do often wish there would be a stopping point at which I could stay that's it, i am done growing up. growing up, growing at all in any way really, is super painful. growing pains used to mean leg cramps in 7th grade and the unfamiliarity of a changing body that seemed to grow faster than my mind. but now it means saying well we have been doing it this for awhile but there is a better way to do it, one that is more humane, more dignifying, more right. growing now causes other types of pain, like letting go, re-identification, re-membering of myself, my thoughts, submission of desires, submission of dreams, submission of self to the other. i have been waiting for years for life in kolkata to normalize, to have a rythmn that stays the same but that day has never come. every day is a challenge to grow up into something different or better. i feel like i have to grow out of things that have been one way to allow new things to spring up and there is loss in growing out of things. growing out of a way of a way of thinking or believing so that i can grow up toward the sunlight where there is a wealth of food and nourishment for my soul. the community here in kolkata is growing these days, most certainly in numbers, but more significantly in how we can and should do life here, how we can submit ourselves better to culture, simplicity and one another. i am definitely challenged and even in a little pain with the growth we are experiencing but i know that i just gotta keep growing. The day growing up stops we die.

Quote from Kyle's Blog

Here is thy footstool and there rest thy feet where live the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.

When I try to bow to thee, my obeisance cannot reach down to the depth where thy feet rest among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.

Pride can never approach to where thou walkest in the clothes of the humble among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.

My heart can never find its way to where thou keepest company with the companionless among the poorest, the lowliest, and the lost.

~Rabindanath Tagore (1861-1941)

Unanswered Prayers

i am surrounded by broken hearts and unanswered prayers. Rupa stands the line before 9am waiting for rice and meat in exchange for the outstanding price of her own sexual exploitation. I walked through the gach to talk with the landlord of a potential property this morning, seeing her there so early broke my heart. i smiled, she smiled back in her empty way. I wonder has Rupa stopped praying? have her prayers gone unanswered so long that she has stopped praying. i think i would have stopped long ago, in her worn sassy shoes. resigning myself to emptiness, a broken heart to match a broken body. fatalistic resignation to what has been forced and stolen. the life breath shallow as if dying. if she can no longer cry out, who will cry out for her. where are the answers to my prayers for her...have i prayed long enough, hard enough for God to hear and respond. her prayers remain unanswered and i imagine if she still prays, it is not for freedom but for survival, existence, her daily food and not much more. it is not enough, it will never be enough. let the kingdom come now, today in this minute and hour for Rupa. teach me to pray harder, without ceasing...because I know Rupa is only one of 10,000. One prayer still unanswered among thousands. Here in the Gach O God, have mercy. Hear us and answer our calls for mercy.

For my beloved

the explosions,though deafening bring light
bright and high above your crowded lanes
your busy streets, pungent with grief and garlic
your people warm, wondering, humiliated, proud
many hate you but you have stolen my pumping blood filled heart
i seek to escape your embrace but cherish being
welcomed into your life, your heart of stone
if i look down i see your filthy broken body
but seeing into the skies, there is growth, greenness
your eyes are pools of deep brown beauty aching
the markets and people full of color
dancing, parading color in life and death
i long for your beauty to be revealed
hearts to be broken for your losses
dreams to be realized, prayers answered
beloved friends, sisters, daughters of your darkness
finding freedom, life hope, making you better than you are
i see you my beloved.
i see you.

lost in translation

The translation of language is difficult. In so many way you are not just translating words but whole concepts and ideologies into the understanding of another culture. I think I understand why "lost in translation" is a common phrase...some things are almost untranslatable. From culture to culture, from rich to poor, from poor to wealthy, from educated to less educated, from east to west, there are many barriers beyond the words. So I am wondering how to bridge the gap as I literally have spent my day translating from english to bengali. How do we bridge the gaps? Fill in the spaces that are left when there are no words? I am asking a bigger question than language, i am asking how do we cross cultures? How do we serve cross culturally...submitting the presuppositions about who we are and what we can offer and posturing ourselves with humility, service and submission. The only thing that translates clearly is humanity, in grace, through love can meet at Christ as a center point. This presupposes faith so minus Christ only our humanness binds us and even that is a good starting point for the beginning of translation. these are very unfinished thoughts...just trying to figure some stuff out in both the literal and the in the imagination.

Thoughts on story

Why can't it be simple?

straightforward, knowing the right answer, simple! Why not? I am a black and white idealist living in a gray crappy reality. Lord have mercy today!

The Politics of Pain

I have a dear friend who says that my pain and your pain can exist in the same space. My pain does not negate your pain and your suffering does not negate my suffering. This is a beautiful offering in friendship but so difficult to see happen in real relationship, in community. Living in a community, that seeks to be present to those who suffer, makes this even more complex. Because often when we walk through the doors of our homes, we are carrying not only whatever fear, frustrations, and sadness that has been our own for the day but the sadness, anger and suffering of the city we have emerged from after a long day. We carry the burdens of the relationships that seem be more weighty because there is so little hope for answers to the questions they face, in terms of injustice or justice, poverty and broken social systems. So how do all these things exist together...well, whether we want them to or not, they do exist together. its really just a matter of our response to one another's pain, our response to the suffering of the city that has cloaked us, our response to the 100th time we hear about a friends struggle in the same bad situation that seems to have no way out. The problem of all this pain existing in the same place is that we often end up feeling isolated and that maybe no one truly understands us...the thing, our pain, which should press us into one another for support, understanding and love, often leads us to remove ourselves from one anothers pain and to deny our own.

We think in levels, whether we want to or not. is my pain greater or less than my neighbors? is the pain of the women at sari bari more significant than my pain? Can i burden them with my pain when i very freely admit that their suffering is deeper and more profound than mine will ever be? We think we can negotiate around one anothers pain...that's what makes it a political. The levels and qualifiers for our pain and the pain of those around us do not allow us to enter into to each others pain and we play the game of letting some else be in pain while not admitting our own pain. Or we feel our pain is more significant and we demand, in word or in action, that others not be in pain or we withdraw all together. There is a great freedom in allowing our pain and our suffering to exist together with the others around us as my friend Kim encourages. When we allow this to happen we find that we have something to offer even when we are in pain and there is something that we miss out on receiving when we remove ourselves from those who are suffering.

I actually do not always want to enter in incarnationally, with compassion, into the pain of those around me, and certainly not into the pain and anger that exists in Kolkata, but when i remember that all these things can exist together, I find freedom to be as i am and to let others be as they are, in the moment, in pain or not.

A little greeting for Sunday.

Yes, this is a bad angle for me but still fun to do anyway! Happy Sunday!

Learning the hard way

I pretty much do not have a problem learning things the hard way. If i fall flat on my face, well then i know that there must be a better way to do it next time and i will generally keep trying until i get it right.

The hardest thing about learning things this way, is not really how it affects me, but how it affects those around me. I can see how my leadership has helped to cultivate some good things, even great things but i can also see how my failures have set up bad patterns for others. And how my bad patterns got picked up along the way and made mantra. I am a workaholic and i see that as a bad thing....at least not sustainable for the long term. And I can see how that exhibits itself the staff sometimes and how in falling flat on my face in that area of my life has brought others along with me in the hard lesson. And now we all need to pick up the pieces and start over...

I can see how my choice to let need to govern my decision making has affected the freedom of a number of ladies. There are many factors but its no fun to learn the hard way that just because 19 ladies want a job and freedom from the trade that you need to meet them all right then and there with a job. Especially if you do not really have the staff or the space to support them well. Because what happens is we go from the ability to give our best to giving the bare minimum because that is all we have left. And offering freedom and new life to others is maybe the one place you do not want to have learn the hard way and fall flat on your face because the negative consequences have the potential to affect so many. We had a staff meeting today and talked about what has happened with this group of trainees. We have never had this rate of attrition and we could all point to decisions we made and places that we got lost along the way in the way that we supported, cared for, corrected and followed through with this group of ladies. We can not know what the difference might have been if we had only taken 10 but we can still be thankful for the 12 that are still with us. But it not a lesson i wanted to learn the hard way again, not for my sake but for the sake of these beautiful ladies that God has entrusted into our care.

Moving forward in Hope

We celebrated the lives of 8 women today who completed training. Six months of learning, transitioning, yearning, letting go of the old has brought these beautiful women to today's celebration. Today we marked, as we love to do, freedom and new life in the lives of these women who are now apart of our family. It was a beautiful day. A beautiful moment to mark the place where something powerful has happened. A journey which began six months ago will now have the opportunity to go deeper, to continue the conversion from hopelessness to HOPE, from self loathing to dignity, from shame to confidence. We hope that these 8 ladies, now as full time employees and sisters at sari bari, will be covered in grace as they continue on the journey of exodus to find holistic freedom. If you pray, pray for mercy, pray for their protection, pray for their hearts to be filled with confidence and their faces to be full of the dignity that is their as children of God.

In marking the celebration, this week has also been a marker of the losses. When i left for the states in mid October, we had 35 ladies working or in training;16 full time ladies and 19 ladies in training. Over the last months, due to sickness, addiction and other factors that we are still trying to understand, many have returned to the trade with only 12 of the original 19 trainees still moving forward toward freedom. As of today we have 24 full time ladies and 4 more still in training (these 4 have only one more month before we celebrate their move into full time employment at sari bari). Pray for those who have returned and pray for the new ladies that we will invite into our family in march when we begin another training.

And in all this these things, we still move forward with Hope, trusting that Hope will not disappoint us.

Five minutes

Tuna aka Dipunkar Pal stopped me today as I was on my way to a meeting tonight. I said I could not stop I would be late but he said "Just five minutes." He wanted to have dinner and he did not want to have dinner alone. Tuna has many friends, tea companions, and dinner partners. He has been a friend of the WMF community for countless years. He has his favorites...Jared and Josh and Chris (he prefers male friends i think) but He remembers all who visit. He still talks about David Chronic as his goatee. He is a gentle artistic soul and I love him a lot.

So I stopped and said okay five minutes knowing that there is no such thing as "five minutes". We went to Khalsa a favorite Sudder Street dive with tasty food. i had tea and tuna had dinner. He hurried because i had told him i only had short time. But i wish, my first response had been "okay, sure", so that he would not have hurried. It was more than worthwhile twenty minutes of my day shared with a friend who did not want to eat alone. I was late to my meeting but it did not really matter...they waited and understood.

It is good to be reminded that sometimes it is all about those "five minutes" of being present to a friend. Being "with" as opposed to hurrying to what is next on the list. "Five minutes" means more than the time I gave, it means I love you and you, a child of the Most High, are always more important than the task.

So today I am thankful for "five minutes" and thankful to acknowledge that those were probably the most important minutes of my day. Thanks for dinner Tuna, anytime!

when small beasts take the day

I could write about my struggle to get to work on time after staying up too late playing with the video on my computer (thanks princess leah! i love it!) or the mass chaos of the overcrowded metro on the way home (it was riotous but everyone was laughing so still almost fun), or how fun it was show pictures from my time in the states to the ladies, or how amazing the staff here are and how much they have grown as leaders in the last several months but no...

I am so grossed out by the rat that ate through the candy and coffee gifts I lugged across the world for my friends here in Kolkata that i can not really think about anything else. I mean he did not even want the coffee, he just had to put bite marks in it so i would not be able to give it to my friends or even feel willing to drink it myself. its just so wrong, such a waste! crazy that something so small, really can steal such large quantities of food with impunity. I mean in our experience a 2 pound rat can make off with 2 lbs of tomatoes, 20 tortillas, a couple of chicken breasts and a loaf of bread while you are still in the room. You never know what hit you. the small beast has definitely taken the day. he gets blog space today but tomorrow i may stop being a pacifist!

oh and just now, he is back...i just chased him out of my room! He is definitely at least three pounds maybe more! Seriously, now i am never going to sleep!!

A little tour of my little house...

The starting point

The starting point for my day, pretty much everyday, spoken or unspoken is Lord have mercy. Sometimes my prayers for the day may not move much beyond Dear Lord please have mercy. We live in a world that cries out for mercy, certainly it may not be with a loud voice in many cases, but definitively the cry though it may be silent, unspoken or whispered is for mercy. When i worked at the train station in Kolkata bringing the sick and dying from that place to the safest place I knew, the Missionaries of Charity Home for the Dying, i encountered alot of suffering, alot of blatant injustice and alot of death. Much of the death felt unjust, it felt needless and hostile. Once as i knelt to help a man who lay dying on the train platform, thousands of people walking by, a man stopped. He did not stop offer his help only his theological assessment of the situation. He said, this man deserves this, he deserves to die alone on the train platform. He is paying for his sins. I was indignant with rage. Yes rage. He said we should leave another human being alone to die in the midst of a teeming humanity that somehow, according to this man's theology, deserved not to die in this manner because they were going about their day and this man had end up here alone to die. The thought for that day was yes, maybe he is right, maybe he, the dying man, is sinner receiving just repayment but if that is case then this is what we all deserve. And Lord help us if we all get what we deserve or if we deserve everything we get in this lifetime on this broken planet, in this world of darkness. So the starting point for my day everyday, is Lord have mercy. Lord have mercy on me. Lord have mercy on the dying man and on the one who accuses him. Lord have mercy on us. I do not want to see the day that i get what i deserve in repayment for my sins. A little mercy can go long way in the healing of the world. Lord have mercy on us.

The Garden

I am one who loves safe places. I look for them in relationships, in physical spaces, even in my own brain. Since living in Kolkata, i think the desire for a safe, and beyond safe, a beautiful place has been even stronger within my heart. When i returned to kolkata more than 3 years ago, i dreamt of a garden. The garden was the symbol of the that safe beautiful place where i could find rest and safety in the midst of turmoil. My thought was the the garden would be not only be a physical space (my home) but an emotional, spiritual and mental space as well. There have been many days and even many months where it was hard to find the garden, to find the safe place where beauty dwells. But there have been divine moments of safety and rest and many have happen over meals of celebration in my home with dear friends. Many moments in the arms of friends and sisters at sari bari and many, many moments alone in the crowd, on the street, in the metro station where Jesus has met me and given me a moment in the garden. Tonight after a shared meal, intimate words and deep mutual understanding, i feel like i have been in the garden.

Maybe i should define the garden as i see it. The garden is "THE GARDEN" or eden. It is the place that God created for His Humanity at creation, it was a safe place of intimacy with Him. It was a place where humanity did not yet know sin and the beauty of God's creation was not yet flawed with turmoil and destruction. I know that God did not create us to live in a world of sin and brokenness. he created us for the garden, for initmacy with Him. the problem came with the choice and humanity chose the knowledge of good and evil, a knowledge God knew would be devastating to us both physically and emotionally and most certainly spiritual in our ability to have intimate relationship with Him. The beauty of the completed story is that God was still compelled have intimacy with us even after we had been cast out of the garden. He made a radical sacrifice so that we could have intimacy once again without sacrifice. A final sacrifice was made and intimacy was restored...and truly by the spirit, the garden was restored to us in relationship. So i can have moments in the garden with my Father even in the midst of chaos and destruction and suffering He meets with me. And cherish the moments in those safe places, in those relationships, in those physical spaces, in that place in my heart where He dwells eternal...because i know moments in the garden with the creator is what i was created for...

Thankful today for moments with Joe who offers me the embrace of the master. For moments with Beth who is my mirror and my heart friend. For moments with Jenny who makes me smile and for moments with Melinda who I long to know well. For moments with Daphne...because in even a few short sentences i feel known and loved. For moments with Micah who suffers yet who still upholds me. For moments in the metro where old ladies smile and giggle and try to converse in the one language you do not know. Looking forward to the surprise moments of intimacy with my creator that tomorrow may bring.

Thoughts on my favorite Mr. Anderson

I have voted for Brent Anderson for President in more than one presidential election over the past 10 years that I have known Him. He really may be the only truly qualified person for the job. He is a thoughtful, compassionate servant, a heroic man of strength and integrity. He would not lead as others have led but I am confident he would lead better, with more integrity, more creativity and more dry humor than most.

His blog may be my favorite reading of all time...you must go there to understand! He is a story teller, an economist, a theologian, an understated comic, and truly a profound thought leader!

The highlight reel...

Breakfast food at the Leavenworth Cafe
First to arrive, first to leave
Staff Retreat 2002
Driving to Waffle house after a Kentucky blizzard in Ben Oldhams old truck
Breakfast at Waffle house in Kentucky
Andrea Bocelli
The smell of tide
Best hugs in the Omaha office
Being Brent's thrift store stylist
Hello! (when brent answers the phone)
Patient, gracious kindness when I am late doing something again.
Good Debriefer
Being able to call Brent a friend

Brent is leaving Word Made Flesh but will remain at its heart. He taught us the meaning of serving with love. I feel like my right thumb is being cut off and I am wondering how will I use my right hand...opposable digits are essential. You will be dearly missed my friend.

transformed anger

here is a gem of deep wisdom that continues to find its truth in my everyday life. When you are angry allow your anger to become sadness. In sadness, we can name the why's and because's of our feelings. Anger corrupts the why's and blinds us from being able to see quite clearly. Anger in so many cases is good, because it can protect, let you know of an injustice, give clear sight to know your heart if you let it become sadness...letting it go is apart of anger being okay. there is nothing that says do not be angry...just wisdom that speaks to heart that reminds us to not hold it for longer than a day. So when i let my anger become sadness, i can name my feelings. I am sad because i was not treated with dignity. I am sad because people i love are being hurt. I am sad because the losses around me scare me. I am sad because i feel out of control. i am sad because i do not feel valued and cared for the way i want to be cared for...and so on and so. anger becomes something in sadness that allows us to heal, to forgive, to be softened and freed by understanding, what in fact, is really wrong. and what is really wrong might be about me and it might be able someone else but either way, the end result is being free to let go at the end of the day and say father forgive us our trepasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

incarnational love

We can not define the measure of our losses. They are too great, to deep to speak. some losses we choose in our brokenness and some are inflicted...great treasures, great people taken.

in loss, I feel that to hold one who is grieving is all that relieves...today holding a mother whose son feels lost to her in the brokeness of His body. tight without letting go. Holding my dear "ma" as the depth of her pain still surfaces with rawness at the loss of her dear lover and partner. Holding a man I care about in my heart in his own sadness and loss because i can not hold him in person...it brings relief but not much really. we can not define the measure of our losses. they are too great to be understood...there is only the offering of presence that makes sense, embrace.

That is and was the incarnation. presence to us. presence for us. in our losses, for our losses, because of our losses. The only thing that makes sense to me everyday is "emmanuel", a God who is with us. i say it over and over. emmanuel. what the world needs, what i need is incarnation, someone to hold me. to be held, to be redeemed and have losses that should have been mine taken on by emmanuel, comforts. the pain of our losses, chosen and inflicted, taken, made into nonsense in the face of incarnational love, something new comes from our emmanuel. HOPE. incarnational love, an embrace, i am not alone, i am with you, you are with me, we are not alone.

Bright Field

There is no perfection in reunion...there is sweetness and sadness and beauty. Because reunion is full of the rawness of the seperation and the sadness for the losses not experienced together and knowing that something has been lost that keeps reunion from being perfect in its appearance. I was welcomed back into the arms of my dear friends at Sari Bari today...lined up to hug and embrace. I began to cry and one of the ladies asked why i would cry when being together was a good thing. I said I was crying because I was happy but more deeply I was sad as I looked into the eyes of some of my friends and thought of the losses that they have experienced in the last three months. I felt myself living their pain in that moment with them, delayed because of my absence. In these last months my life here in kolkata has been far from me in many ways but these women, these beautiful powerful transformed images of our creator God have been deeply held in my heart. it was their faces, their voices, their stories that called to me as i met with churches and friends and even in my family celebrations, they were with me. the reunion today reminded me just how much apart of me these women are, in leaving i left apart of myself behind with them, in returning i have been given back fullness plus so much more. I was reminded today that kolkata is a "perfect place". not because kolkata is a nice place or an easy place but the "perfect place", it is my bright field, my pearl of great price, it is worth all that i have and all that i am. it is "perfect" because it is the place that my dear jesus has called me His beloved amoung women I know are His most treasured daughters. To be at their side is a great honor. to love them till it hurts is my great priveledge. To be reunited, held not perfection, only the realness of our heart ties to one another....bound,linked,held...celebrating our life together, what has been and what will be.

My friend Julian has read this poem for me a couple of times now. It speaks of what I have found...my prayer is that I will not lose sight of it again.

The Bright Field
by R. S. Thomas

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receeding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

Warming up to write again soon...

For now just a good quote:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. Thee's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

Marianne Williamson, quoted by Nelson Mandela

finding life

where do we go to live? has life lived us or are we living full. i see the life around me in a small town and wonder are they happy. Are they alive? I am wondering if I am drinking the cup today? to the dregs...do it's depths stun me, humiliate me, bless me. Am i alive today? Or is my worry living me. Is there letting go in living? i am wandering through my leave of absence struggling to feel alive. in part i feel detached from my heart, my still beats in india for freedom, for my beloved community. i feel isolated and lonely, waiting for my heart to beat in this waiting, this worry. not sure how break free of the dungeon of over responsibility i have created for myself. i feel alive when i run, when my hands create, when my heart loves deeply, when fear of acceptance does not rule me. i feel alive when Jesus holds me, when i let Him. I feel alive when i drink from the cup of my life to the dregs...

So today a toast to the dregs! May we all live full, alive, and open to the beating hearts within us!

A great Sermon

One of the great thing about being home is being apart of my mom and dad's church community. Dad preached one of the best sermon's i have heard in a long time on sunday. If you are interested you can listen.

beauty

we took a long drive up into the forest...gorgeous. deep green pines giving stark contrast to brilliant yellow. Red shocking us with depth and orange backed by fall sunlight. I love fall. it seems forever since i was able to experience the beauty of the changing seasons. I also went with my mom to an antique store...my own personal heaven. I will go back again and again just to browse at the beauty. thinking of my beautiful friends around the world as beauty graces me today.

thoughts on off the radar

so i am off the radar so to speak. Trying to rest,to be, struggling without my "do" in place. I keep checking my email and facebook and this blog that i have not written on in months. i am missing bethie and kolkata and the ladies...they stay in the back of mind everyday as i wake up late because i stayed up late and as i crochet my way to happiness. so far this week, i have made dinner a couple of times, climbed on the roof to attach the cable for the TV antenna (my heart is still beating fast), peeled some apples on an amazing contraption, watched half an oprah, caught up on gray's, still catching up on lost from last year and had a starbucks coffee with my mom at the grocery store. i am weirded out by everything being so clean and accessible. I am wondering about a recession when i all can see is excess things and choices (not minimizing people struggles just trying to get my mind around it after being in india). i judge myself and my own desire for a trip to target (i am in the recesses of the oregon wilderness, i know this because the nearest target is an hour away). it's my first week off the radar and i am learning to slow but i am not slow yet, my neck still pulls to the right when i get an email about work (lord help me). I want to let go or lay it all down so to speak so i can take it up again in a healthier fuller better way, make sense? So next week will be planned rest in the beauty of the oregon wilderness, maybe moving toward something will help me move away in a good way toward true rest. ahhhh...

Sari Bari Website is LIVE

Hey peeps...just wanted to let you know that you can now purchase sari blankets and bags from the Sari Bari website. Exciting new step for the Sari Bari family!!

Visit http://www.saribari.com/store/blankets

October Prayer Letter

I sat with the ladies today as they cried. One after the other tears came to their eyes as they thought of their friend, teacher and sister leaving. I cried too. Not much sewing actually happened this afternoon at Sari Bari but their was the cleansing, healing work of tears. The tears were for our dear staff member, Kristin Keen, who is returning to the states after 5 years and she is taking with her the love of these women and a little piece of the heart of Sari Bari. Kristin was the original visionary for Sari Bari and my partner in founding Sari Bari more than 2 years ago. Sari Bari is now full of women on the road to freedom (35 women as of writing) and is a beautiful community of transformed women, a few of us passionate ex-pats, and a committed and growing Indian Staff. Freedom is happening here…

Tomorrow we celebrate. We will gather together all the men, women, and children who know and love Kristin. It will mark a goodbye but also what might be a future remembrance from another celebration, the Wedding Supper of the lamb. On that day we might all be together again celebrating what brought us together in the first place, Jesus love and amazing grace.

I love celebrations. I love times at the table. I grew up in a house of family dinners, Saturday’s at the pool at grandma’s (Baba’s or Grandma Lance’s), big Christmas and Easter celebrations and celebration of every holiday in between. Birthdays, good behavior or good grades meant the red plate. Thanks to my parents, who know how to celebrate, I learned to celebrate and the value of honoring people.

Life in Kolkata, for all of it difficulties, is full of celebrations. Indians love to celebrate (maybe because life here is often so hard for everyone). There are more than 25 public holidays here, seriously they love to have festivals. We, the WMF Kolkata Community and Sari Bari Family, celebrate everything! We celebrate the first day a new woman starts at Sari Bari with a cake, what we call a “Mukti Birthday”, the start of the woman’s road to freedom. It is the marker of a new life and we continue this celebration annually for the rest of the woman’s time at Sari Bari (hopefully, some day there will be a 20 year celebration of freedom for some of our women!!!). We also have something called Community Night in which we celebrate our life together every few weeks over a meal. If there is a birthday, then we celebrate the person and how God has created them and who He is creating them to be. We celebrate production targets met and unmet. We celebrate all of these things in community with one another. Each time it feels like I not only enjoy the taste of a good meal but also a bit of what it might be like to be at the Wedding Supper of the Lamb because I sense God’s presence in those celebrations. To sit among the beloved, in the presence of the God of the Universe and His son, the slain lamb.

Jesus talked of places of honor at the table and how where we place ourselves will ultimately affect our final position. If we sit at the head of the table and someone with more prestige comes, we may be asked to move down to the end of the table. But if we posture ourselves in humility and take a set at end of the table in the first place, the host may ask that we move to the front of the table. Recently, some amazing women came and spent some time with us at Sari Bari. In reflecting on Jesus words about the table, they thought about our “table” at Sari Bari. We actually do not have a table. Everyone sits on the floor, whether we are sharing in our daily lunch or on a celebration day meals. So there is no place of honor really, we all have a place in the circle. As Amey and Leia reflected, it became clear that the only place of honor at Sari Bari, is the place of service. The only person standing during any meal is the one serving and usually there is a loud barrage of encouragements to sit down and eat with everyone else!

Kristin has sat with us at the table for many years now both as community member and as a servant. Having shared life among us, tomorrow Kristin will hold the place of honor, as one who served with us. And we will celebrate her life and service in Kolkata with tears, dancing, good food, and laughter. We will mark this day as remembrance for when we meet again at the wedding supper of the Lamb.

Celebrating Jesus work among us!

Love,
Sarah

End Note: The party was amazing! There were 135 people, half of them from Sari Bari, the rest from all the places where Kristin gives herself; the Mukti Network, our small group, many, many women from Songacchi (the red light area), our neighbors (new and old) and our friends from Freeset. Also, I am wondering if maybe when we do sit at the Wedding Supper of the Lamb if it will be round table…here’s hoping!

A few recent photos

September 2008 Prayer Letter

Most of life is lived in the tension between knowing that God is taking me somewhere and not knowing where I am going. It is in this tension where we find ourselves waiting, often in silence and sorrow, on the instruction and promises of God. Here we remember the things he spoke calling us into the journey; here we contend with the seeming evidence that his promises are not true…We see hints and glimmers of what was intended, but the distortions of our veiled eyes, this world bent frame, or the illusionary, mocking ways of evil cause us to doubt what we see and hear at every turn.
Jan Meyers, Listening to Love

God has been taking me somewhere these many years but I often feel like I do not know exactly where he is taking me. He has brought me to India, to Kolkata, to a place of death and destruction to show me the life and hope that is possible for those bound by its darkness. He has brought me here to community and intimacy in friendship among His beloved poor to be apart of the body of Christ in this place. But sometimes, I still wonder where He is taking me.

I have been in a season of brokeness here and I have asked God so many times where are you taking me? I have been asking God about his promises for me, about my unmet desires and hopes and dreams. I have been wrestling with what it means to lose my life here, so that I might gain it. And the response came through Dad earlier this week as I shared my broken and over burdened heart, “God is not asking you to lose your life to India, Sarah, God is asking you to lose your life to Him.” The response is simple and easy from the outside, but inside this season of doubt and fear, I have been struggling to lose my life in battle that was not mine to fight. I have been struggling to lose my life, manage Sari Bari, care for the women, care for the WMF staff and in that pressing forward, working harder, I have only burnt out. I have come so far to the end of my rope, that I have gone beyond it to the point where I have nothing to hang onto at the moment. Nothing but Jesus.

So I am re-evaluating and ready to choose a different way of being in Kolkata. I am giving up “trying”. I am laying down working harder for the freedom of these beloved and choosing to allow God to take the reigns in a new way, a life submitted, I can not do it anymore way. And God is speaking His gracious love over me reminding that I never had to do it, the job that fills my days was always His. The chaff in my heart is being burned as I try to lay myself down at His feet. And I must say that “the life giving fire of the Spirit has rarely made me comfortable…it consumes everything in its path. When I’ve tried to fill the charred places with my own efforts—trying to be a better friend, (a better leader, a better servant), trying to be more loving---I have missed the point: Love wants to fill me, to take control….The spirit has something else in mind. Instead of my trying harder, the spirit wants me to rest, releasing the life of Christ in me (Meyers).”

Blaise Pascal wrote this prayer:

Everything that is not God, is unable to fulfill my desires. It is you alone that I seek, that I may have you. O Lord, open my heart…Enter in, as into a strong man’s house. But first bind the strong and powerful enemy, who is tryrant over it. Take to yourself the treasures that are there. Lord take my affections which the world has robbed me of; spoil the world of this treasure. Rather, continue to posses it, for it belongs only to you.

“This man was experiencing a holy resignation, a holy giving up. He had fainted. He could do no more, offer nothing more, he could come up with no other devices to battle to try to please God, nor earn love (Meyers).”

I am experiencing a “holy giving up.” I am giving up the heavy burden for the easy yoke, a yoke that is shared and where the burden is on Jesus’ shoulders not my own. I am not giving up my calling or vocation in India just the way I do it. I hope you pray with me in this season for something new as I seek to break free of over-responsibilty and trying to please God, and be freed into His love in a new way.

I am coming home this fall for a season of rest and renewal and to share my heart with the church and gather a larger community of supporters and prayerful senders to hold me up for the many years in Kolkata that I hope to remain. While I am in the states, I will be pursuing some intensive counseling to deal with issues of post tramatic stress due to the intense environment in which we live. I will spend time with family and loved ones soaking in the embraces. And I hope to be able to share with several church communities in Oregon and California.

I have continually struggled with financial support in the last several years and I know that many of you find yourselves also in difficult financial situations, so I struggle to ask again for your support. I am looking for 50 people who would be willing to support me on a monthly basis for $10.00 a month or 25 people who can support me for $20.00 a month. This extra $500.00 a month will cover the regular deficit in my support account. I am currently raising about $1000.00 a month which covers my living expenses and taxes. The additional support will cover required annual travel for visa runs, annual spiritual retreat, retirement, health care and health insurance, and development (language and spiritual development resources). My immediate needs include funds for a ticket to the states ($1600) in November, a very overdue Physical check up ($300) and funds for counseling expenses ($500) while I am home in the states. If you are able to support any of these needs with a one time financial gift I would really appreciate it.

You can give through the Word Made Flesh website or you can set up a automated deductions through your checking account (you can call WMF to have the form sent to you by mail, 800-279-4543) and then return the form to WMF, P.O. Box 70, Omaha, NE 68101. Or you can mail a check to the same address with a note that the funds are for my support account.

Thanks for your love and support in this season and in the year past and those to come. Jesus sustains me and you make my presence here possible in so many ways.

Much love and respect,
Sarah

When good things come to pass...

There are things in the last few days that have lifted my eyes from the ground and reminded me that the "to do's" have a grace in them. Because sometimes there is a beautiful fruit the past investment that reminds me of my current purpose in vocation and calling amoung the women in the trade. sometimes doing the thing i do not feel like doing leads to provision, grace and hope in ways i do not understand until later.

The stories of interns being discipled by our women of grace and beauty through their hospitality and friendship. The wisdom of a Godly child teaching her silly leaders about grace and true beauty. I love hearing the stories retold,i love the words that are preached being lived out so well as to remind me of my why's and yes'.

Gita's words,
"I am beautiful because God made me beautiful."
"Your life has so much value."

Spoken over others with simple confidence, far reaching in their simplicity and wisdom. The passionate embrace of confidence in being a loved one of Jesus.

i was tired and worn yesterday and the last thing i wanted to look at another property but to my surprise I saw the perfect location for Sari Bari in the Gach. really nothing could be better! It was more than amazing...it is what i have been praying for months. we have been looking and looking for a space in the other area we work but the doors have remained closed and this seems to be opening up. i could provide freedom to 50 women. it is in the middle of the largest redlight area and on the worst lane for underage girls. it would be a beacon of hope in the middle of desperation. pray, pray,pray that we get it, pray that we can work out the funds, pray for a miracle!!

My dear friend julie is here visiting. it is good to be known and share this part of my life with such an old friend.

thankful for today and trying to be faithful in the waiting for those good things that God has for His kids in Kolkata.

buried

If could describe myself in word today...i would say "buried." the have tos and have nots, should, and coulds, and what ifs, and "responsiblities" real or false have me buried at the moment. i hate that whenever i go to the states that coming back here is so hard. that i catch my breath for moment in the company of family and friends and then i must again submerge, hold my breath and wonder how long i can make it this time. the things is i know i could leave but i do not want to--i want to make it work here, i want to thrive here...sometimes i do thrive. but probably more real is that i mostly survive. The conflict is of course that i love the ladies, i love my job as catalyst of movements and ideas and developer of others, i love my community. But i am having a hard time thriving at the moment, being sick does not help much. each life giving moment feels swallowed by the moments that want to take from me. maybe i am holding on too tight, so rather than giving my life away, i feel like it is being taken. maybe this is a season, I hope so. i want to write good things, amazing stories of hope and truth not self sad complaining words but i am stuggling to keep my head up. so i only catch glimpes of the light, moments each day that move me forward. moments like on friday when i remember what it is i am about in this place--freedom on behalf of the only one who offers it truly. i remembered the visions of something new for sari bari in a new place and something new for girls for in mushirabad who might not need to find a job in a red light area if we can offer them one at home. It was a moment of light when Gita said i will go, i will go. i want to go and be a light bringer to the darkness, to show these girls they have value. that was my moment on friday...i think it might get me through the week. if you pray, pray for me. pray for something fresh to refresh and breath to help me breath when i feel like i am can not, pray for grace.

receive or else

I heard a good sermon this morning. it was good reminder and challenge for my week. He talked about receiving, something i have a very difficult time with in general especially receiving affirmation or compliments. I think part of it is that i really do believe many times things that happen here have nothing to do with me and part of it is that i am just bad at receiving. the speaker said that one of the reasons that we find the cross offensive is because there is nothing that we can contribute to it. we have no part in it, we can not ask God not to do it for us or say let me take part of the burden...it was and is a gift, a divine sacrificial compliment for us to receive. there is no other response but gratefulness. it is hard to just rest in that place of knowing that we can do nothing to make it up to God. we can only be who he has called us be, human beings, in a broken world where his Kingdom has come, is coming and will come. We are called to "be" not "do"...being always supercedes doing. we are human "beings" not human "doing"...though we/I often like to think the doing will make the being easier. if i can just get it all done then i can be. maybe this week i try to "be" and let the doing happen out of that place.

nobody wants pain

You know you have been wounded so deeply by a person that you can barely breathe right when you think of them....you remember the love your enemies thing, and the desire, the hope, even the ache to be able to fully forgive. but the wound still smarts and stings with pain, healing never really happened because there was not reconcilliation. Over the last years, i have learned alot about forgiving the debt, having been forgiven my own debt over and over. and seeing the women forgive those who have trafficked them, seeing the women forgive the culture which binds them...they are my light, my leaders in forgiveness. Sometimes, as much as, we may want an apology, my might not get it but forgiveness still has to happen. I am in a place where i need to really forgive someone who really, really hurt me and i am weepy to think of having to see this person, to be kind, to turn the other cheek allowing for the possibility that they might strike again. i guess you could say I am afraid. afraid of judgement, afraid of my own anger, afraid of being walked on if open the door again. I told beth yesterday, i choose everyday to forgive but nothing has made this particular hurt less painful, or me feel less vulnerable to being hurt again. I think i feel mostly broken and broken hearted and i am trusting God for his miraculous grace, his healing and his ability to set me in the presence of those who might hurt me or those i love and not fear.

I often think that living here in Kolkata has a tendancy to expose me in a way that nothing else can in the world. it also has a way of healing me, teaching me and changing me for the good like nothing else can... I sometimes think if i did not live here, if this was not my call, my vocation, my dream then i would not have to drink this cup of suffering. which might be true, but i also know that in that cup, that beautiful cup of suffering is great joy. so i am holding out for joy and redemeption and reconcilliation.

Off the radar

So I am not very good at traditions. Jumping back into life here is never easy...there is no slow road. it is in or out, full on or not. there is never any half way. kristin describes at a full course meal 3 times a day(and you do not really like what is being served) when sometimes all you really want is salad. it is not just being back at work but squeezing myself onto the crowded metro and the horns, the horns, the horns. the emotions of sadness, joy and some fear all mixed together. The suffering never makes sense, whether i am far away or near and coming face to face again always is a little harsh. the needs never go away, there is aways a conflict to mediate, a teachable moment or a person who needs a hug or a hand. And then all the tasks, the tasks are on top of the emotions. so i have been off the radar, trying to get back on my proverbial feet. i am almost there, unpacked and ready to put my suitcases away. ready for routine and ready to more forward beyond the amazing vacation days to the these days before me.

we have lots of fun things in the days ahead. kyle, a former servant team member and way amazing person, comes wednesday to start three years with us and then we have a team from the states for weeks which is includes some of the coolest people i know...the heuertz's and amanda and chad knihal and then some i do not know...amey and leah who will be interns with me for about a month...i am expecting them to be cool too!

Sari Bari Stuff Available NOW!

Our latest shipment has finally arrived--long-awaited bags, baby
blankets and throws!!
Click on the links below to see what's available.

bags are $24.00
http://picasaweb.google.com/saribariindia/BagsAprilShipment?authkey=Ta9NulQB424">
baby blankets (aprox. 36 x 36) are $35.00
http://picasaweb.google.com/saribariindia/BabyBlanketsAprilShipment?authkey=e_qAA-Uprok

regular sized throws (aprox.34 x 80) are $58.00
http://picasaweb.google.com/saribariindia/BlanketsAprilShipmentToStates?authkey=0pIjHF0wBLI
xl throws (aprox. 50 x 80) are $100.00
http://picasaweb.google.com/saribariindia/XLThrowsAndBedspreadAprilShipment?authkey=p4h_WjXbajU

(+ tax for those of you who live in TN and NE)

Shipping Costs:
$5.50 for the first bag OR
$7.00 for the first blanket
+ $4.00 for each additional item

If you would like to make a purchase, please email melinda@saribari.com
indicating your preferences by number. As always, items tend to sell quickly so you may want to list several options or state no preference and let us pick an
available beauty for you!

We will reply to your e-mails as quickly as possible to confirm your
sale and to let you know your total.

Checks can be made out to Word Made Flesh and sent to:

Sari Bari
P.O. Box 56
Omaha, NE 68101

All payments should be received by Friday June 27th and all products ordered
will be shipped the next day, June 28th via USPS 2-day priority mail.

Thank you for your support of Sari Bari and for making life-giving freedom
for many women possible!!

There and back again...