Archive for April, 2010


I have cried more in the last two weeks than I have in the last two decades… and I have a suspicion that I’m not done yet

I came from a home, from a culture, where crying was not acceptable – it was considered a sign of weakness, and to show weakness was to invite attack… every cuss word imaginable was in our language, and yet the worst insult you could fling at someone was to call them “soft”

and so I learned to express pain in acceptable ways… yelling, punching, getting drunk or high, even laughing

but that’s not how god designed us – research has shown that tears rid the body of harmful stress hormones – he designed our bodies to shed our emotional hurt through crying

maybe this crying spree I’m on is just another part of learning to do things his way instead of the world’s way…
(no matter how much I don’t like it)


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I got an email from the leader of the midnight outreach ministry — I will be going out with them on friday night, may 7th

my heart rate went up at least 50 beats a minute as soon as I got it, and I’m afraid I dropped a bit more than usual of the entomology lecture I was captioning (shaky hands) – which just confirms to me my need to let god set the pace in all of this

my passion to help rescue girls from this life is so strong that I have to be careful to reign it in and not run off and try to do things my way, in my timetable – I know that, more often than not, that leads to much more pain than necessary

my nerves are also on edge because the people I will be working alongside are church people, but they are not ringers – and that scares me

I think I have become really spoiled at the ring… they love me – as I am – and nobody flips out when I get high strung and drop the occasional “f-bomb”… they know my heart and they look past the sarcasm, the hardness, the language… I have become so used to being accepted in the body at the ring

I’m thinking that this ministry will be pretty emotional for me, and I tend to lose some of my language control when I get emotional… what will these church people think of me?

taylor will tell me it doesn’t matter, and I know it shouldn’t, but it does… it matters in terms of how much pain I will feel… somehow acceptance within the body is much more important to me than acceptance in the world

I’m hoping that the fact that these christians have a heart for prostitutes means that they will be accepting of me… and if not, that I will turn to him with the hurt

anyway, 11 days from now I’ll finally be out there… not too early to start praying for me… and for the girls I will come in contact with

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the beginning…

on friday, march 26th, taylor sent me a link to http://www.sharedhope.org because he had seen a billboard advertising against sex trafficking in baton rouge, and he knew I wanted to get involved in volunteer work in that area

I went on the site and signed a petition for stronger penalties for the men who create the demand for children in the sex trade – you can go here to sign it: https://www.sharedhope.org/registration_form.asp?i=15 , I made a donation to have the book Renting Lacy sent to me, and I also downloaded a video on domestic minor sex trafficking available here: http://www.sharedhope.org/registration_form.asp?i=16 

I was full speed ahead, wanting to jump in with both feet and start helping these kids…and then after work, I watched the video

I expected that I would feel righteous anger for these girls – that I would want to save them – and instead, I was punched in the face by my own hurt, seeing myself in them…I found myself crying so hard I couldn’t breathe

so I decided maybe I needed to go a little more slowly and let the lord lead me to things as I was ready for them

when I got back from the trip to mexico, Renting Lacy arrived in my mailbox that saturday – it’s a small book, and I’m a fast reader, but it took me five days to get through it…

there was one page that utterly destroyed me, that I still start sobbing every time I read it – it is in a section that talks about how some people believe that prostitutes choose that life, that line of work – that they make good money – that they could get out if they wanted to — it was done in kind of a sarcastic way, as a letter of a child saying what she wants to be when she grows up – a prostitute; and all the nice, decent, wonderful childhood things she doesn’t want – like a loving father, girlish frills, a virgin wedding – and at the end it asked “can anyone believe that?”

the answer is yes

these girls believe that – I believed that – because that is how you survive — when every kid on the block has a big-wheel and you don’t, you tell yourself you don’t want one – that big-wheels are stupid and you hate them – and so you avoid the pain of not having one — and when you are too little and too weak to stop a man from forcing sex on you, or you are too hungry, tired and scared and the only way to get food or a ride or safety from the night is to have sex with some trucker, you tell yourself it’s what you want – that it’s your choice and you are in control – and so you avoid the hurt of being used by those stronger than you, of a world where the people who are supposed to protect you are the ones harming you, telling you that your worth lies only in one thing – your body

that is a very scary world

it is much, much safer to believe the lie and maintain some control – to accept that you are only good for one thing, and that you can control your world, get your needs met and survive – that you are a whore — to believe that you don’t want to be loved, to be cherished, to be protected – because you never have been

thirty something years later, I don’t really believe that anymore – but it’s still hard to admit – it’s hard to admit that inside of a very tough USMC exterior, I’m just a girl – a girl who might have wanted to save my virginity for my husband, if it hadn’t been taken from me before I was old enough to know what it was – that I hurt over what was done to me, over what I missed out on – over the childhood I never got to have – over the lies I came to believe that have tainted everything in my life

it’s hard to figure out how to let god in to those places in my heart – but I want to

I sent an email to trafficking hope and on tuesday, april 13th, a woman contacted me and I told her I wanted to volunteer, and I told her my story…she is forwarding my info to the outreach teams who go to strip clubs, the streets, and the truck stops building relationships with these girls…I’m waiting now to hear from them and to become a part of the outreach…to reach a hand back into the darkness, while holding onto him with the other

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redeem a childhood of incest, sexual abuse and prostitution

it is my hope and my prayer that he will choose to do so in my case by allowing me to be involved in his rescue of children being trafficked now, in our city, today…that my past will uniquely qualify me to get through to children who don’t identify themselves as victims; who believe that they chose the life and don’t need to be rescued;

who don’t understand that there is NO SUCH THING as a child prostitute!

and that somewhere along this journey, I will allow him to heal the hurt still buried in my own heart…

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