The Candy Shop

The Candy Shop is a 30 minute short film portraying the horrors of child sex trafficking and sexual exploitation. I just love the creative way in which the filmmaker displays these atrocities and every parallel that you see is right on with real life. This happens, everyday, every hour, around the world. I've seen it. So I plead with you to WATCH this, be INFORMED, and then DO something about it. 

How can you help? Well I'm glad you asked... these websites might give you some ideas:

ijm.org

thea21campaign.org

stopthecandyshop.com

Open Our Eyes

There’s not a plethora of things to do in Vero Beach, being a city on the smaller side. Therefore, it’s imperative to get creative when it comes to the weekends. Having discovered a new spot to hang out, last weekend some friends and myself visited a nice hotel on the beach that has a gas fire pit outside you can sit by, right on the beach. It was perfect. Cool weather, warm fire, clear sky. There’s something about a controlled fire that is quite soothing.

But being a Saturday, as the night wore on, it brought out the caliber of people that like to have just a little too much to drink; one in particular who was completely smashed. To make a long story short, lets just say after his onslaught of slurred, nonsense words and lustful eyes perusing the pretty girls sitting around the fire, he had the bright idea of getting up to walk across the fire. And so he did, somehow avoiding going up in flames, (much to our dismay.) We took this as our cue to leave.

As we took the leisurely walk along the beach and quaint sidewalks back to our vehicles, we passed several people out enjoying the night as well. We stood on the sidewalk chatting for awhile before bringing our night to a close. As we stood there talking, every now and then we’d see people coming in and out of other hotels/bars on the same street. As I watched, I noticed one young woman in particular, dressed in tight jeans and high boots, standing on the sidewalk, alone in the night. She couldn’t even walk a straight line. In fact, at one point she almost toppled over. I continued to watch her stand by the street as the minutes passed by. Finally, the thought entered my mind, “I wonder if she’s a prostitute?” 


Now I know, that seems a bit extreme, but with the things I’ve seen and experienced, that’s what naturally comes to my mind. I contemplated going up and talking to her, but convinced myself I was being very over dramatic and she was probably just an intoxicated young woman trying to have her idea of fun, taking a cigarette break.

A few minutes later, a truck drove by and she walked up to the driver seat, stuck her head in the window and spoke with whoever the driver was for a few minutes. Next thing we see, the truck parked and the young woman walked into the hotel/bar with the two men.

Maybe I was being quite over dramatic. Maybe this young woman was simply meeting up with some friends, as one of my friends pointed out. Whether those men paid her for sex or not, I can’t imagine that her night ended well. I can’t imagine that she woke up the next morning feeling valued and cherished and beautiful.

I’ve been thinking about that young woman all week. I never saw her face, just her silhouette in the night. I lived with regret this week. I wish I would have had the guts to go up and talk to her. I wish I would have inquired about her life. But I didn’t. Who knows, maybe I could have helped her.

I need to wake up to the reality that I don’t have to be in a third world country to rescue people. The horrors of torture, abuse, rape and prostitution don’t just happen in the middle of a slum in a city with millions of people. It happens in the small little suburbs of the United States. In every little city, every little town.

You may think I’m being dramatic. But that’s just it. If we don’t climb out of our holes of routine and complacency, we're never going to be used to change the world, whether we're in the United States or South Asia or North Africa.

Whether that young woman simply had just a little too much to drink and was getting fresh air, or she was being paid to have sex, she is God’s child and probably needed to be rescued and redeemed.

Who is in your neighborhood, in your city, that needs to be rescued?

Open my eyes God, to see what you see.

Jesus, open our eyes!

Social Media Seeking Justice

I recently stumbled across this very impressive youtube video that communicated the growing world of social media and networking. Using statistics and tidbits of information, it effectively demonstrated in 5 minutes, how social media has changed and is continuing to change the way we communicate. In a nutshell...


"Social media isn't a fad, it's a fundamental shift in the way we communicate."

I couldn't agree more. I've had conversations with people on things such as the pros and cons of facebook, twitter, etc... it's a time waster, it's narcissistic, it's for our own self- esteem, it can get you in trouble, etc, etc. While I agree that these points can be true oftentimes and they must be used with discretion, I don't think we can throw the baby out with the bath water.


Though I've been on facebook for several years now and have attempted to blog for the past year, I recently started a twitter account (I know, I know... I'm a little behind). My eyes have been opened to a whole new world. I never really understood what twitter was capable of until I tried it. I've learned so much in the past week alone about what is going on in the world, about other people seeking justice, missions projects and NGO's, and people simply changing their community and world. And it has inspired me.


Watching the above youtube clip made me quite excited actually. I couldn't help but think of Esther's words in scripture, "And who knows but that you have come to royal position FOR SUCH A TIME AS THIS?" Now I'm not equating the potential of social media with a young jewish woman who literally saved an entire race of people, but I'm simply saying God CHOSE when each of us would be born, what generation we would live in, the tools we would have at our fingertips to use for His kingdom.


So instead of complaining about my generation and how horrible my culture is, I want to use the tools we have before us for good and not for evil. The printing press made mass distribution of the Bible possible. Movies made it possible to visually communicate stories. I believe social media can be an effective tool to collaborate with people, encourage other believers, share the gospel, raise money for missions and ministries, communicate stories of redemption... the list goes on.


So long as social media does not overtake the time I spend in God's presence, drawing closer to His heart, I intend to use it as a tool to advance the Kingdom of God. What about you?
Who knows, give it a try.

Piles of Hair

Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day.

Did you know that? I didn't. Until today. When I googled it I didn't find many major news sources covering it. I happened to find it on a NY Times Op ed. So what exactly are we remembering today?


"On 27 January 1945, the advancing Soviet army entered the Auschwitz-Birkenau extermination camp complex, liberating more than 7000 remaining prisoners, for the most part ill or dying. Days earlier, the SS had forced nearly 60,000 prisoners to evacuate the camp and embark on the infamous 'Death Marches' in which many thousands lost their lives. In 2005, the UN General Assembly designated 27 January as the International Day of Commemoration in memory of the victims of the Holocaust, the day upon which, every year, the world would mark and remember the Holocaust and its victims." (source) 


Basically we are remembering the horrific genocide of an entire race of people that happened little over 60 years ago. Monuments and museums have been built to remember this atrocity. The world has consistently said "Never Again!" But unfortunately the world has not lived up to their "never again" promise. The opinion piece I mentioned above talks about dangers currently looming in the Ivory Coast as well as Sudan. Not to mention atrocities we've watched happen since the Holocaust, in Cambodia (watch the Killing Fields), Rwanda (watch Hotel Rwanda) and the Balkans. This opinion writer mentions progress made and possible solutions to these looming genocides, including the work of the UN, the White House and NGO's. I agree. I've seen first hand the help that both governmental and nongovernmental organizations can provide. They both have the potential to save lives. However...


When I think about these atrocities taking place and dig deep into the underlying reasons, I ask myself why. How can man take the lives of other innocent human beings, by the thousands, and in most cases not feel guilty about it? It boggles my mind. Holocaust era movies fascinate me, such as Schindler's List and The Boy in Striped Pajamas, because I cannot fathom how this could have happened. 


Then I realized. 


If man places no value on life... if we were not created in the image of an Almighty God, placed on this earth for a reason and purpose... then there is nothing wrong with taking the life of another human being.  It comes down to the sanctity of life. The inherent value given us by our Creator. 


As we celebrated the Sanctity of Life this past Sunday all across America, I thought back to a few years ago when I had the opportunity to visit the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. It was quite the enlightening and emotional experience. Something that stood out to me were piles of shoes that belonged to these precious people. Not only that, but the hair that belonged to them, that was shaved off their heads. 

And then I thought about a new born baby. A baby that is born with a head full of hair. What if we took the hair of all the babies that we have sacrificed because they were inconvenient, and put it in a pile? 50 million to be exact. How large would that pile of hair be?

The world has said "never again," yet we watch genocide happening not only in other countries, but in our own, masked in the disguise of "pro-choice." 


Though the UN, White House and NGO's are doing their best to prevent genocide, the real change begins in ourselves, in our homes, in our communities. When we enter into a passionate relationship with Jesus Christ and see life as he sees it... precious. When we have the courage to go into under developed nations and proclaim the gospel. When we have the courage to go into our own neighborhood and share about the abundant life we have through Christ. 


So on this day, as we remember the hundreds of thousands who were killed during the holocaust, let's not sit back and do nothing. Let's put our words into action when we say, "never again," by petitioning our God on behalf of our families, our community, our country and our world. 

Lessons from an ocean and a moon.

There was a full moon last week.

And of course the most beautiful place to drink in the moon is at the edge of the ocean, with your feet in the cool sand, where I feel closest to God.

As I pleasured in God’s creation at the beach, He imparted small tidbits of love and wisdom to me, because that’s who He is.

I wondered why I thought the moon was so beautiful. Scientifically it is a ball of ugly matter that reflects sunlight. Why is it that when we see it, we are consumed with such a sense of awe and beauty? Something so simple. Maybe its not so much the moon itself, but the fact that we inherently know it’s creator. When I look at the moon, I not only take in its beauty, but feel the majesty of the Creator. The moon reflects the sun. Without the sun, it is darkness. The heavens declare the glory of God. This ball of mass declares the glory of God, therefore it is beautiful. How can we not marvel at it, for it points us to the Creator.

I pondered a lyric from a song that I never get sick of… “If His grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.” I dare you to stand at the edge of the ocean, as it reflects the moonlight, looking out as far as you can see, and imagine it as an ocean of grace. I sang the lyric over and over. My mind could barely comprehend it. My heart could barely accept it. Mercy is not getting something we deserve; grace is getting something we don’t deserve. His grace is so rich in our lives, we’re drowning in it. I’m drowning in riches I don’t deserve.  Why? Simply because He loves me. 

I looked at my footprints in the sand as I turned around and backtracked from where I came. I imagined the generations before me, making their mark on this earth as well. Maybe their feet walked in the very same sand I was walking on. The people who have done some of the greatest things, who have changed the world, walked on the same earth I do. They worked with the same materials I have, they used a brain designed just the way mine is. They left imprints on the earth, whether good or bad. Some we know of to this day, some we will never hear of. Parts of the imprints of my small feet were washed out by the edges of the waves coming up. I imagined the line of prints as my life. Some of it will be in the open for all to see, and some of it will be faithfulness lived out in the secret of my sanctuary, just like the prints no longer visible in the sand. The world may never see, but God does.

And finally, I listened. As the sound of the waves rested in my ears, God simply said “Be with me.” Because you see the theme of my life right now, and maybe yours as well, is what am I to do next? My brain never shuts off in trying to plan out my life, like trying to put a puzzle together. I constantly move the pieces around, looking at all my options, trying to make the right fit. I try to figure out what countries I want to go to, what missions I want to go on, the people I want to reach, the man I want to marry, the kids I want to have… and arrange it all in the most logical way.

God laughs.

“Be with me, Michelle.”

Be with Him. When we simply remain in his presence constantly, we can’t help but know the thoughts of His heart. When I’m that close to God, when I’m sitting in His lap, there’s no way I cannot hear him.

So be with Him today. Be drunk in His presence. Drink in the moon. Stand by the ocean. Marvel at his creation. Listen. Sing love songs to Him. Be taken up with Him.

When we do that, things will happen we never dreamed of. Great big things are coming, and instead of trying to figure them out, I’m going to simply be with my Jesus, and partake in whatever He has for me... for us.

“I want to take my passion, and put it in a bottle, just to break it at your feet.

I want to take my affections, put them in a bottle, just to waste them at your feet.”

~Misty Edwards, “Let Me Love You More”

The Missionary’s Plight…

Dedicated to my dear missionary friends.  

If you’ve ever been on a missions trip or lived overseas, whether short term or long term, you are forever ruined. You now see the world in a whole new perspective. You are now in a special “class” of a select people group. Not to say that this “people group” is better than others, it’s just… different. The true test in identifying this group is observing them when they come back home to the good old western world.  

The following are some common identifiers:

1. “Toilet paper? What’s that?”

2. “That food you left on your plate could feed 5 children in the 3^rd world!
In which you may respond, “then ship it to them!”

3. “What do you mean you have to stop at the red light?”


4. “You paid how much for that flat screen TV? You’re definitely going to hell.”

5. Dinner conversation consists of the weird things they’ve had to eat including chicken feet, pig intestines and unfertilized duck eggs.


6. Food poisoning is nothing.

7. Every other sentence begins with, “well when I was in [insert whatever country it was].”

8. They can sleep through any noise, in any position, in any place, including flights where they’re snoozing before the cabin door even shuts.

 9. “What? You don’t carry anti-diarrheals in your purse too?”




10. “It’s all gonna burn anyway!”

Okay, so maybe some of these are a bit extreme (sort of), but I’m allowed to poke fun since I’ve had a few experiences myself. However, usually I leave my comments to an inner monologue rather than making the awkwardness known. Though if one of my missionary friends is in the room, it’s fun to read each others minds and know exactly what they’re thinking.  

But in all seriousness, no matter how long the missionary is home, and they become accustomed to the American lifestyle, they will forever have those random flashback moments. You never know when they might occur. Like walking out of a restaurant and automatically looking for a street kid to give your doggy bag to. Or washing the utensils in your kitchen drawers before using them because roaches probably crawled on them. Or all of a sudden freaking out that you’re driving on the wrong side of the road. Yes, we are forever ruined, but I hold these random moments dear to my heart, no matter how weird it is to others. And of course, my all time favorite is…

“Ah dangit, I flushed the toilet paper again!”

Luckily it’s okay, our pipes can handle it here. 

The Work is not Done

Monday, October 4, 2010 - Sitting in the Mumbai airport, trying to hold back tears. There’s been a lump in my throat the whole day, as I made my rounds, saying my goodbyes to some of the most amazing people I know. I did well. Only cried once.

Often in the midst of seasons in our lives, we never fully comprehend the work that God is doing in us. We get so caught up in the day to day activities, that it’s hard to step back and really look at the big picture. Now that I am at yet another transition in my life, looking back over the past year, the picture has become more clear.

If there is one thing that has become the most clear, it is God’s faithfulness.

God is and has been so faithful to me.

My God is a good God. The places he has taken me to this year, physically, mentally, emotionally… I may never fully comprehend or understand. Some of them have been some of the hardest places I have ever been; faced some of the hardest trials I have ever faced. Yet many of these places have been ones of complete joy and satisfaction.

God took me on a grand adventure this year, and it passed in the blink of an eye. Rescuing victims, seeing justice served, showing mercy, loving people I didn’t want to love, practicing patience, writing stories of real people’s lives, gleaning wisdom from justice warriors, learning to just be, humbling myself before others, seeing people’s eyes opened to injustice, dancing, truly surrendering, giving and receiving grace, communing with the body of Christ, traveling, and laughing at our utter humanness.

When I first arrived to do this work, it was all so surreal. It didn’t seem like reality. Yet a year later, it still doesn’t seem like reality. Did this year really happen? It was a year of sacrifice, yet I still feel so honored that God chose me to do the work. I’m not qualified. I’m an amateur. I have nothing much to offer. But I suppose those are the prerequisites to do the work of God.

The things I learned this year, the relationships I formed, cannot even begin to be measured. My romanticized visions of what I sometimes thought it was like were crushed to the ground. I knew they would be, and I’m glad they were. I fully grasp now the gravity, yet difficulty of rescuing slaves, setting people free, advocating for others and the messiness of it all. I saw it firsthand. I was privileged to write their stories. Each story, an individual, single precious life. Each life, precious to God with a purpose and a calling. A life that may have lived in a remote village, somehow ending up in the depths of a brothel in a large city. Yet a team that cares enough to go into the dark places and rescue that life. The individuals of this team have become my heroes and always will be.

Living in this enormous city opened my eyes even more. To extreme poverty, diseases I never knew of, malnutrition, intense idol worship, demonic spirits, slums, pollution, and the vast disparity between the rich and the poor. It’s not the first time of being exposed to all this, but it’s ironic how each city has different kinds of spiritual bondages unique to that place, yet they all yield the same results, the same problems. The lost are lost, and are in need of saving grace.

The person that I am today, is not the same person that I was a year ago. But unfortunately the process of growth never ends, and there is still work to be done. As I leave this city, I have an undeniable sense that I will be back. It sounds cliché to say “I left a piece of my heart there.” But, I invested my heart there, so it is impossible not to leave a piece. A piece that I need to return to someday. And I will. Who knows the plans of God… they are so much higher than mine, and more than what I could ever imagine. It’s been a journey, and the journey shall continue. There is work to be done, stories to be told, people to be rescued... and I will continue that work. 

“So faithful

So constant

So loving and so true

So powerful in all you do

You fill me

You see me

You know my every move

You love me to sing to you

I know that you are for me

I know that you are for me

I know that you will never

Forsake me in my weaknesses

I know that you have come down

Even if to write upon my heart

To remind me who you are”

“You are for Me” by Kari Jobe