Fathers
06.15.13

It's strange to think my time here in Lesotho is nearly halfway over. Within days I will be boarding a plane home, when it seems like just yesterday I was boarding the plane here. It's difficult to put all of my experiences and emotions into words, I'm not sure I have finished completely processing all of it anyway. 

Last night changed the entire course of my expectations for being here and for my life in general. I was given the opportunity to join a team of people from a church in South Africa, who have spent past 7 years building a street ministry. The sole purpose of the ministry is to build relationships with girls who work the streets of the city where each of these members live and work, to eventually provide them a haven of rescue and an opportunity to start a new life with Jesus. It was the scariest/most amazing thing I have ever done in probably all of my life. As we prepared to go out, I truly did not know what to expect, walking into the jaws of darkness. The team are native South Africans, meaning their first language is Afrikaans, a derivitive of Dutch. I found myself with a group of people I had never met before, all speaking to each other in a language I had only heard once or twice in my life, yet I felt so connected to them and I know that was only made possible through the Holy Spirit uniting His body.

As we went out, the fear and apprehension I had been experiencing, melted away. After about an hour of trial and error, we met Nicole*, a girl willing to listen to what we had to say. Nicole was so young, so far away from her family, with so much pain in her eyes, desperately crying for help, in search of love and significance. Throughout our conversation, "Johns" would drive up in an attempt to take advantage of Nicole's services, but her eyes would not devert from our group. We began to pray for her and as my team leader was praying in Afrikaans, the most supernatural thing I have ever experienced occured. I began to understand what she was saying, without an interpreter or ever studying the language, in my heart I knew the words which were being spoken over sweet Nicole. It took everything in me to fight back the salty tears which were building up in my eyes, it was such a sacred, beautiful moment. The team leaders exchanged numbers with Nicole and she was extremely excited to hear that they would come and take her to church on Sunday. 

In the midst of the filth, the perversion and utter depths of despair, I have never felt closer to my Savior and King and a body of Believers. How could I ever be the same from an experience like that? How could I walk the streets where weeks earlier a young girl was strangled to death by a client, and not be evoked to take action? Jesus is on those streets, inviting His children to come and work to help bring these lost souls back from the claws of complete darkness.

As we approach Father's day, I can't help but think about the home lives most of the girls come from. Few have been extracted from tender, loving environments. Most of them have found comfort in the arms of evil because they had nothing to go home to. What would their life be like if they had a Daddy to love them, to tell them they are beautiful and bring the flowers on their birthdays? A Daddy to cheer at dance recitals and tell them, "That boy wasn't good enough for you in the first place," after a heartbreak? Maybe their lives would have taken a different route if there was a Father to guide them and lead them into greatness. 

I am extremely blessed to literally have the most amazing Dad in the entire world. A Dad who has taught me the true meaning of love and sacrifice and given me the greatest example of a man of God. 

My Dad is the reason I have any desire to leave my comfort zone and go out into the world to help the lost, broken, hungry and dying. For the past 13 years he has been employed with the non-profit, Feed the Children as their international writer/producer. He has traveled to over 20 countries, bringing food, water and supplies to some of the most remote, dangerous and uncivilized villages of the world. He has seen everything from Sudanese refugee camps, families calling cemeteries homes in the Phillippines, to starving children in the shanty towns of the Appalacian Mountains. Without his tenacity, and utter devotion to serve the call of the Lord despite any odds, I would not be the woman I am today. I am so grateful for all of the knowledge and wisdom I have gained from such an incredible person, father and friend. 

I know that so many women have not had the opportunity to experience and earthly father's love as I have, but the love of a Father in heaven who created the universe, is deeper and greater than any love I have ever encountered. On days I have felt most empty, broken and alone, only the love of my Jesus has been able to comfort my heart. He is the reason that girls like Nicole are able to have a second chance at life through His undying, unconditional, redeeming love. 

I love you daddy, on earth and in heaven.

Be blessed today, fathers and daughters everywhere.

*Name has been changed for protection, privacy and liability.

Culture • Life • Love • Social Issues • Spirituality • Travel
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Maria in Africa!
06.06.13

Well I made it y'all. On June 2nd I arrived to the Kingdom of Lesotho. After one 7 hour flight to London, followed by a 12 hour layover, which was awesome by the way, and then finally the long 10 hour flight to Johannesburg, only to be picked up and get right back into another moving vehicle for a 5 hour drive, I made it to mountain kingdom. 

A very long, and tiring journey, yet so very worth it. 

I'll start with my layover in London. As some of your know, my first trip to London back in October was brought to an abrupt halt. After my compadre was detained at passport control before even getting a chance to enter the U.K., my grandoise plans for the weekend went down the drain. So my 12 hour layover in a city I got jipped in, felt like a small blessing in disguise. I spent my Saturday wandering around the city, with strolls in beautiful parks, a quick stop at Buckingham Palace, a walk across Abbey Road before finally finding myself perusing the beautiful streets of Notting Hill. It was the first time I was in a foreign country completely on my own, and I couldn't have been happier. 

Portobello Street, Notting Hill

Green Park

Buckingham Palace

My first week in Lesotho is about 3/4ths complete. It's hard to believe the days are going by so quickly. It's also difficult to process everything. Being in a completely different culture, unlike anything I have ever experienced, a world away from home, can be quite overwhelming. The first two days were a blur, in between trying to readjust my body to the time change and absorbing my surroundings, it was hard to feel like I was doing much of anything. I find myself still in complete shock that I'm actually here. 

Today was the best day I've had so far. Aside from getting the opportunity to cook not one, but two meals for my team, (if you don't know, cooking is something I've grown to absolutely love!) I experienced my first day of true work in the shelter with the girls. I'm starting to become familiar with them after being here for a few days, but today I realized how much your presence can impact. If there's something women who've experienced trauma can see, it's straight to the heart of a person. As I began my day talking with the girls and getting ready to sit through devotional time, one of the girls decided it was time to give me a Sesotho name. Sesotho (pronounced: Se-Soo-Too) is the native language of Lesotho. The name bestowed upon me was, "Lerato", Sesotho for love, because "I just have that love." It was truly the highlight of my time here so far. I was beginning to feel confused as to why God would bring me here. Even though international missions and fighting human trafficking are two of my biggest passions, it's still unclear to me exactly what direction this is going to take me in. After receiving my name and realizing how I had been welcomed with nothing but open arms to women who have experienced horrific abuse, it all made sense. 

I've been called to serve. I've been called to give. I've been called to love. 

During one of my personal quiet times with the Lord, I came across a passage in Deuteronomy. 

"If among you, one of your brothers should become poor, in any of your towns within your land that the Lord your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother, but you shall open your hand to him and lend him sufficient for his need, whatever it may be." 

Deuteronomy 15:7-8

Being here isn't about me at all. It isn't about my comfort, pleasure, popularity, success or gain. It's about me serving my Lord through tending His flock of broken hearted women and in serving Him and these women, developing and even closer, more intimate relationship with my Creator. I imagine there will be times of stuggle, pain and maybe even anger, but God has called me for such a time as this and He will supply all that I need. 

I am overjoyed at this opportunity to learn and grow and experience life with these beautiful women and my amazing team members. My journey has only just begun, and I'm not quite sure where it will end up, but I've always been prone to adventure. 

Maseru, Lesotho - Capital City

Life • Love • Social Issues • Spirituality • Travel
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Together we'll be OK.
05.27.13

One week ago today, a 2-mile wide, F-5 tornado swept across south Oklahoma City. The torrential winds and ferocious speed of the funnel demolished hundreds, if not thousands of homes and claimed the lives of 24 individuals. 

The entire state of Oklahoma was a gasp, disaster had struck in our very own backyard. Weeks earlier, 14 years ago, a very similar storm swept through the town on Moore, Oklahoma on May 3rd, 1999, destryoing neighborhoods and leaving behind several fatalities. But this particular storm was recorded the worst history has ever known, in regards to tornadic activity. As citizens we helplessly watched as our neighbors, family, co-workers and friends, crawled out from under what once was their homes, but had now become an unreognizable pile of lost memories and brokenness. 

The day before the tornado hit, one of my best friend's called me to say that her mother had gone home to be with Jesus after a 10-year battle with stage four cancer. Two months prior to that, Steve Clifton, the loveable owner of the Red Rooster Bar and Grill, which held many fond memories for my friends and I, passed away alone in his home. I was beginning to think that 2013 was just the year of death and destruction. 

Within hours of the May 20th tornado, first responders were on the scene, helping people find safety, shelter, medical attention and peace of mind. I watched the entire state of Oklahoma band together and take the stance that, "together, we'll be OK." From the American Red Cross to the smallest of local churches, people wanted to take action and help their fellow man who was facing such a great need. I couldn't stand on the sidelines and watch all of this take place, so this past Sunday, I went with Feed the Children to deliver food and supplies to victims. 

A little boy, who was a third grade student at Plaza Towers, the elementary school which caved in on students and teachers, taking the lives of 10 young children. This particular boy was paying his respects to the friends and classmates he lost by hanging stuffed animals on the chainlink fence which baricaded outsiders from the destruction area.

The day started with a food drop at Platt College in Moore. Cars would drive up, tell the volunteers what they needed and we would proceed to fill their trunks with boxes of food, diapers, trash bags, clothing and hygiene products. After several hours of being a do-gooder, my dad asked me if I wanted to join his team as they went into the heart of the damage to get more footage. I readily accepted and hopped into the car, ready for adventure. Adventure was the furthest thing from what I experienced. As we crossed over I-35, I began to see what had taken place. The 7-Eleven which was now completely non-existant, the tarps which were now roofs of homes, and the fallen power lines which lined the sides of the streets.  We moved deeper and turned into a neighborhood which took one of the hardest hits. We passed multiple tents giving out free water and supplies and Red Cross disaster relief trucks. It warmed my heart to see so many people coming together to make sense of such senselessness. We found a parking spot and began to survey the damage, I took my camera and went off to explore, what I found left my flabbergasted and absolutely speechless. Within seconds of arriving to the scene, someone pointed out the Plaza Towers, the elementary school that faced some of the greatest destruction. 

My heart was so heavy as I walked through the broken streets. It was insanely surreal, I felt like I was on the set of an apocalyptic movie. The gravity of this devastation was too much to comprehend. Soldiers drove slowly with signs on military Jeeps for free water, gatorade, sunscreen and other miscellaneous items. A particular home caught my attention so I walked up on to what was the driveway and slowly took in the scene. It was hard to tell what used to stand in the place I was now standing, I began to imagine who lived there and what part of life was lived in the house that once was. I looked to my right and saw a chair standing alone in the middle of all of the debris. This was where someone or someones, used to sleep every night. Where they cooked breakfast, laughed, cried, fought, open Christmas presents, shared hopes and dreams, threw birthday parties and most of all, the place they called HOME. Now it finds itself a pile of rubble without shape or form.

I walked back to Plaza Towers to take a few more photos of memorial set up for families and friends to honor the little ones lost. As I was shooting, a man asked where he would be able to see the photos I was taking. We began to talk and shared with me that he was the uncle of Nicholas McCabe, one of the little boys whose life was taken by the tornado. Nicholas was days away from his 9th birthday and so very excited to spend Memorial Weekend out of the boat with his uncle. Hearing the grief in this man's voice as he talked about his sweet, little nephew was almost too much to bear. Times like this make it so difficult to understand the Lord and why He chooses to give and take the way He does. I prayed with the man and went back to meet up with my team. I got in my car and headed back into the city, it was incredible to see the contrast between the reality for so many facing sorrow and just over the river people were running, laughing, and walking through the streets of art festivals with mimosas in hand. So funny, this life. 

"How God, how can you take the life of elementary students, while evil people roam the earth? How can the elderly couple who have worked their entire life to have the humble home they do, lose everything, while the selfish, materialistic, individuals squander their wealth? What is the purpose in such destruction?"

As I questioned the Lord, I was reminded of a passage in James which I had recently heard at the memorial service for the mother of my close friend. 

"yet, you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appers for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." - James 4:14-15 

Nothing in this life is guaranteed. We breathe and live life, we breathe again and that is the last breath we ever take. Death is not a punishment, yet another part of the earthly life. Life is such a precious gift and as I watched the individuals across the nation reach out to my friends and neighbors in need it did bring comfort and hope knowing that there are people choosing life even in the face of death. Choosing to use disaster to bring out the best and bring life, unity and love. I will probably never know the answer why Nicholas and his fellow classmates and friends had to leave this life so early, but maybe they are the lucky ones. Never again will Nicholas have to suffer through illness, pain, heartache or loss. He is dancing with His creator and we get to celebrate his life by helping one another and truly living out what it means to be the hands and feet of Christ. We all have the opportunity to be hero during trials, to find the strength to persevere in overwhelming obstacles.

This has been one of the saddest weeks for my state, but never have I been prouder to call myself and Oklahoman. Together, we'll be OK.

God bless Oklahoma. 

Life • Oklahoma City • Social Issues • Spirituality
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Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.
05.18.13

I recently saw this really cliché typography photo with the phrase: 

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone."

Immediately I laughed at how "hipster" the photo was, but then I started to really process what the words actually meant. 

How many opportunities do we hold ourselves back from because we are too, fill in the blank...

scared

worried

insecure

doubtful

hopeless

ignorant

blind

comfortable

I think the number one reason we miss out on that amazing things life has to offer is due to our comfortability. We place limitations on our abilities because we convince ourselves that what we have already achieved is enough, enough to keep us satisfied, content and safe. Mankind's greatest fear is of the unknown. Why does every ounce of our being instinctively fight death? Is it the loss of life, or the fear of the greatest loss of control?

The things we can control are usually the things that cause us the most stress and pain. What if we just let go? What if we stepped out of what is safe, comfortable and familiar and reached for something more? What would happen then?

What if we said yes to everything everyone else said no to? (This does not include substance abuse. Those things still need a no, haha) Think about the history's greatest legends. Each one of them staired fear, death and opposition in the eyes and kept going. They didn't allow danger or threat to keep them from changing the course of history as they knew it.

I have to battle my own thoughts and fears daily. With the trip to Lesotho coming so quickly, I began to grow weary and anxious about raising all of the funds for my nearly $2000 plane ticket. How could I really pull this off with the amount of income I have been taking in and no wealthy relatives to leave me a large inheritance? This past week I was getting ready to face the reality that this trip just may not be possible at this point in time. I was beginning to get depressed and discouraged as it seemed another thing in my life was going to fail, and for the record, failure is my biggest fear. Something inside of me just couldn't let go. Since becoming involved with the Beautiful Dream Society, I have felt a knowing in the depths of my soul that this is exactly where I am supposed to be, and what I have been designed to do since the inception of my existence. As my dreams started to once again drift away from me, the Light inside of me encouraged me to just hold on a little longer.

"if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,

then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. 

And the Lord will guide your continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong;

and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail."

Isaiah 58:10-11

If going to Lesotho was truly something that God designed me to do, then why was I worrying? I spoke with Sonya, (the director of BDS) about my fear of the lack of finances and she provided motivation and encouragement to reach for my goal. Asking for help is my biggest weakness. I am extremely independent and want to prove that I can do everything on my own, but sometimes that just isn't possible. I am weak, I am poor and I need help just to make it through the day, all of the time. Admitting my weaknesses and vunerabilities is something I have never been comfortable with. I like to build these walls to create an illusion of strength when inside I'm falling apart. I knew that if this trip was going to be a reality, I needed to swallow my pride, get out of my comfort zone and ask for help.

I reactivated my facebook page, texted friends and now I can proudly say I am only $300 short of my goal, which I know is nothing for my Heavenly Father. Sometimes we have to face our fears, humble ourselves and stare those giants right in the eyes and say, "No, you will not overtake me." 

My ticket has yet to be purchased, but I know without a doubt that I will be boarding a plane to Maseru, Lesotho on May 29th and will return June 25th. Prayers are much appreciated and if you would like to donate to help me reach the final amount for my goal, please visit my donation site here. 

Get out of your comfort zone and be amazed at what God will do.

Life • Oklahoma City
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Go fund me!
05.17.13

In a desperate attempt to come up with remaining amount of money needed to purchase my ticket to Lesotho, South Africa, I created a page on gofundme.com to tell my story of involvement with the Beautiful Dream Society and to have a tool for donation purposes.

Read my profile on gofundme, and see if you would like to take part! 

http://www.gofundme.com/helpmechasethedream

Social Issues • Spirituality • Travel
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