Thursday, February 23, 2012

10,000

That's how many girls are abducted from Nepal and trafficked to India in the sex trade industry each year.  Some as young as six.

SIX.

At six, I had a birthday party at McDonald's.  I picked honeysuckle from the fence on the playground at school.  I married Michael Thomas on the see-saw and then tattled on him when he left me to play with the boys.  (I know, I hadn't watched How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days yet.  Sorry, Michael.)  I loved My Little Pony.  I danced to "Beat It" over and over again as it played from my very own Strawberry Shortcake record player.  I made a construction paper crown for my baby brother and dubbed him Prince Ryan.  I had a crown too.  Because I was a princess.

Every six-year-old girl is a princess.

How then, can anyone kidnap these precious little ones from their homes and sell them in a brothel in a foreign land?  How can they hold them in cages and deny them food?  How can they subject them to savage abuse at the hands of up to 40 men a day?  Men who believe that stealing the purity of these little girls will cure their own HIV.  How can they toss them onto the street when they show signs of the diseases that have been given to them by their many abusers?  

How can we stand by in our comfortable lives and turn a deaf ear to their cries? 

I am guilty.

“Shout it aloud, do not hold back. Raise your voice like a trumpet. Declare to my people their rebellion and to the descendants of Jacob their sins. For day after day they seek me out; they seem eager to know my ways, as if they were a nation that does what is right and has not forsaken the commands of its God. They ask me for just decisions and seem eager for God to come near them. ‘Why have we fasted,’ they say, ‘and you have not seen it? Why have we humbled ourselves, and you have not noticed?’...“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter— when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail."  ~Isaiah 58: 1-3 and 6-11

"Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed."  ~Psalm 82:3

"Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." ~Proverbs 31:9

Will you defend her?

Picture taken from THI

Find out how at Tiny Hands International.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

When God Speaks

Child of God, you have the attention of Jesus.  He knows everything going on in your life.  He is familiar with your pain.  Jesus' love, compassion, and grace are immensely personal.  He is committed to meeting the deepest needs of your heart in the middle of your struggle.  ~David Platt

My pastor paused in the middle of his sermon on Sunday to speak these words to the church.  I'm sure God led him to say them, and I'm sure there were many in such a large crowd who needed to hear them.  But then God did something for me that I pray I never forget.  He proved them true. 

Without going into any details, the past week has been one that, apart from the tender mercies of God, should have been one of the worst weeks of my life.  I spent a significant portion of Saturday dumping out my anger, hurt, and confusion before Him. He had orchestrated the events of the week and allowed me a front-row seat as He answered so many of my prayers.  But His answers seemed to come at my expense, and the harsh timing left me feeling carelessly used and discarded.  

Ohh, I was mad.  Mostly at Him.  So I told Him.  I sobbed furious tears for quite some time before coming to a place of conceding, I just need to feel You.  I just need to know You care about me too.

The service had just ended on Sunday morning when Anna approached me and said, "I've been praying hard for you this week, Haley.  God really laid you on my heart."  I'm sure the look on my face was one of confusion.  That would have been a perfectly normal thing for a close friend to say after a week like this one.  But I met Anna three weeks ago.  We're in a Bible study together, but we've never had a one-on-one conversation.  She knows very little about me and absolutely nothing about my week.  Certain she just meant she had prayed through the requests I had shared at small group on Tuesday, I asked her to explain.  She said, "No, all week I've been praying for you, and then last night (Saturday), I was in the middle of praying for myself.  God kept interrupting me with Haley...Haley...Haley." 

My jaw dropped. 

He knows.  He hears.  He cares. 

Nothing else matters.

"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness."  ~Lamentations 3:22-23