Scars

I walk into the room, hardly making a noise, but she jolts out of a deep sleep at stares at me with enlarged, terrified white eyes. The first time it happened, I laughed because she looked so funny being scared awake like that. The second and third time, I gasped because her reaction scared me. I thought she was having bad dreams. But now… now I want to cry when it happens. Now I know. 

She’s staring at me, frozen. I can see her heartbeat in her throat but she barely breathes. A silent scream. 

“It’s okay,” I soothe. “It’s just me. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

I still cannot imagine the nightmares this girl has lived through. It took her a long time to talk about her first rape. It took her several more years to tell me about the multiple rapes, the break-ins that would jolt her from her sleep. Sometimes the men would come in numbers, sometimes only one. Sometimes the men would rape her and leave. Sometimes the men would sleep next to her all night and leave in the morning. Those nights she never slept. She never moved. She never lived.

I asked if she ever screamed for help.

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled down her shirt to point to several scars near her breast. “They told me they’d kill me if I screamed. You don’t scream when the knife cuts you here.”

If I stopped to process this during our conversation, I would’ve been paralyzed with pain. Perhaps that’s why I’m so immersed in going at life here 90 mph 90% of the time. If I give myself moments of quiet, like right now as I type this, the tears will come. I weep for them. Years ago I prayed a prayer I didn’t understand at the time. Oh, but I understand it now. I said, “God, break my heart for what breaks yours.” And I’ve learned that sexual abuse is perhaps one of the biggest heartbreaks our Father experiences. He weeps.

But the story doesn’t end there. Because then He redeems. He rebuilds. He restores. And I’ve seen it in this girl’s life. Her remarkable faith, her unabashed hope, her unexplainable compassion. She has horrid memories of night, but she refuses to let the scars define her. Perhaps I can learn a thing or two from this incredible young woman in my charge.  

A Heart Like Jenga

Setting up this ministry has been like setting up the game, Jenga. Piece upon piece is laid, all interconnected to form one tower. The newer pieces are easiest to take away, while the oldest are, in many ways ,most integral because they form the foundation.

God gave me the first Jenga piece eight years ago. He broke my heart for a cause I never imagined could exist in such horror; he captured my heart for a girl I call my own. “She is my beloved,” He said. “Build her a home.” Satan mocked it when she was entranced by an evil spirit one Sunday, and the demon said, “Get away. We are building a home in here.”

For years she’s been battling these two forces – good and evil – choosing which should be her home.

“Let nothing move you,” God reminded me through Scripture. So, despite the failures or heartache of losing pieces, we’ve continued to build. Some girls have come and gone. Satan has snatched away some pieces (at least momentarily), leaving holes and exposing our weakness in the tower. Still, we lay the next piece.

Because Christ is my foundation, I haven’t been scared. Even when a girl whom I dearly love told me it was her task from Satan to kill me. Even when I’ve watched girls run away with pieces of my heart when they’ve left our home or rejected Christ. I’ve remained firm because I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand I will not be shaken. –Psalm 16:8

Until now.

Without knowing, piece by by piece – taken or built – I’ve let the tower become an idol. I’ve turned my mission into my identity. And satan has waited a long time to take advantage of this. To take out a foundational piece in hopes to watch me crumble.

Umtfwana wami.

For the past several months, I’ve seen her struggling. I’ve sensed her loneliness. I’ve perceived her doubts. Buried under the pieces of what Hosea’s Heart has become. Calling for my attention but never saying a word. I noticed her weight loss, the way she stopped doing her hair, and…ah, her eyes. I can read her eyes better than the alphabet. I tried to give her time, I convinced myself she was fine. After all, it was her own words she kept saying, “Mom, I’m fine.”

And so I built on. With impending urgent tasks for the ministry, working to meet social welfare’s standards, laying down the roots to our expansion project and balancing home school, two toddlers, and the needs of 14 other girls, I kept building instead of strengthening. I chose work over her. I told her I’d spend time with her but time always ran out. Errands, work – building the tower took priority. By the time I realized what I had become: a workaholic, it was too late.

The tower was shaking. An important piece now gone. A week after arriving to the U.S. this past month, I was given the news that umtfwana wami had left the ministry. That she wanted to do life on her own, without Hosea’s Heart, without me. “It’s okay,” I prayed, rejoicing that this could be her opportunity to truly surrender all to Christ. That this was her test of faith, and she would succeed. I had no doubt.

“She’s selling her body again,” the news came like an unforeseen tsunami. “I didn’t want to believe it,” Rachel told me, “But I saw her on the corner myself.” I felt like an arrow had pierced my heart. Images of her on the corner that I pass nightly on my way home made me sick to my stomach.

I was shocked. Still am. Still waiting for someone to wake me up from this terrible dream. My whole body went numb. Even ask my mom. She was with me the day I found out. I became like a robot, unfeeling and rude. I couldn’t breathe, yet air passed through me freely.  But worse news came. News from another volunteer whom umtfwana wami had told the reasons for her leaving. Leaving because I didn’t love her—blaming me for things beyond my control. Making me an enemy. It was as if the arrow that had pierced me was filled with venom. I’ve never felt so cold in all my life.

I wish this post had a happy ending. But to be honest, not all the venom has been sucked out of me. The tower of my heart is still shaking. So I’m admitting that I’m weak, vulnerable, in need of help navigating through the pain, the shock, the anger, the self-hatred. How could I have been so blind? So prideful? So idolizing? How could she be so selfish? So victimized? So ungrateful?

And yet God’s grace touches us both. Touches us equally, heals us profoundly. And I hear Him remind me again, “Let nothing move you…”

Satan may have succeeded in making my tower shake, but he can never make it fall. For Christ alone is my rock and my foundation. In Him, I will not be moved.  

“The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” –Psalm 18:2

  

Meeting Their Needs: Small Things With Great Love

 She showed up on the front door step with a baby held snuggly on her back by a tattered towel. Her eyes looked tired like an aged adult, but she was young. So young. She hadn’t made it past her first year of high school. “Can you help me?” she asked in a near whisper. “I need work.”

It’s a weeknight. After dropping off the interns, I leave the volunteer house to head to my house. I approach the stop before the traffic circle and movement on my left catches my eyes. She’s wearing a skintight mini skirt. Two more young women are on the corner with her.  It’s a weeknight. It’s only 8 p.m. They need work.

“I want out of prostitution,” she tells me with intensity. “But it’s so addicting. Every morning after…” she pauses to catch her breaking voice, “I hate myself.” She asks me for help. She wants a job and a safe place to stay. But she already has two children. The girls home is full. There’s no room for them.

I get a call from the sexual-abuse counseling center. They’re pleased with our work and ministry. So pleased that they want to start an official partnership with their counseling organization. They also have more girls in need of a safe place. In need of our ministry.

I get a phone call from another missionary. She has a young woman who is suicidal and in need of help. But she has children. There’s not enough room for them.

All of these happened in a month. One month. So much need. Living in a place where the needs seem to always be increasing, ministry can be discouraging. But that’s when we remember that we are not the saviors. “We cannot do great things in life, only small things with great love” (Mother Teresa).

We can’t do everything. But we can do something.

If you’ve ever wanted to do something to help us meet these needs, here is a list of little (or big) things marked with great love:

Stateside:

·      Attend “From the Ashes” event on November 19th at Nitty Gritty in Sun Prairie, WI. At this event, you will get the chance to bid on incredible silent auction items (including Amelia Island vacation package, autographed Brett Favre football, photography packages, LuLaRoe gifts, and so much more!), eat excellent food, and learn about the expansion project which will help meet all the needs of the stories listed above! Attend the event and bring a friend!

·      Or consider substituting your attendance by donation the entrance fee ($10) online at www.hoseasheart.org/donate. 

·      Do you have skills in marketing? Would you donate your time and talent in helping Hosea’s Heart launch their expansion project?

·      Get your church involved. Or be the bridge to other corporate sponsorships.

·      Host a February fundraiser for Valentine’s 2017! Calling all hearts and hands for this major fundraiser that will occur in several cities on the same weekend for the same purpose. Already there are events being planned in OshKosh, La Crosse, and Madison, Wisconsin. Where else can you host/plan an event? It can be something as simple as asking a restaurant to donate 10% of its income that night to Hosea’s Heart or something as complex as a dinner or dance. Be creative!

·      Simply spread our message. Like our Page and invite your friends. Share our posts on social media. Share your heart with ours.

Onsite:

·      Join our January mission trip! Jan. 3rd-17th we are sending a team of willing volunteers to get their hands dirty by breaking ground on our expansion project! The project is a three-hectare chunk of land to house up to 55 girls plus staff.  The team will prep the land for the construction of the buildings. This includes land clearing, landscaping, and also building one of the most important elements of the project: fencing for security and safety. Email rachael@hoseasheart.org for more information. Or consider donating the price of the trip ($2,000) to someone who can't afford to go or to the project itself.

·      Four girls are in need of a homeschool teacher! Their school year starts in January and ends in the beginning of December.  Starting this January, they will start a new school year and need a teacher willing to learn alongside with them and help build curriculum. The girls in need are teenagers but in grade levels 3-4, 7-8, 8-9. Time commitments are conditional but preferably for a six month (or more) service. Email rachael@hoseasheart.org for more information.

·      Interested in short term trips? The girls would love a vocal teacher, dance teacher, or art teacher to come and offer new skills. They also need a reading teacher or someone to help them improve reading comprehension. These individual trips are offered during term break interims (April, August, Dec-Jan) and can be arranged by contacting rachael@hoseasheart.org.  

·      Interested in long term trips? Check out our website for information on becoming a year long intern. http://hoseasheart.org/volunteer/

“We cannot do great things in life, only small things with great love.”

-Mother Teresa