Posts Tagged "rape"

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A Story of Adoption

Baby E* is just the cutest little guy ever. And he just got adopted!  Baby E, 11 months   They say that once you hold your baby you forget everything that happened before. All the pain, all the tears dissolve into the glow of tiny fingers and tiny toes. The red birth becomes bright. Even though E* did not come out of my body. In many ways it feels like he’s mine. And when I look at his cheeks and his eyes, and hear his soft baby noises, I too feel the memory slipping away. But I don’t want to

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How to Break Your Heart for Justice

              Vanessa pulls her orange skirt over her feet. Her shirt is covered with red hearts. She traces the ground as she cries. Her step father used to call men over to rape her. Used to pimp her and laugh as she cried behind the curtain. Too small. Legs, too small for her age. She is only seven. The tears gather in the middle of her pupils and spill down her face like drops of rain collecting on a window. Where is that smile? Where is that smile I love to see. Where has

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How to Build a Rescue Home

It’s amazing what a single month can do to change a person’s life. A month ago they did not smile. Now, everywhere the sound of laughter and children showing off their teeth. The same children who a month ago would cry in their mother’s lap. Now they play. Like normal kids. Like our kids. They build blocks and race cars. A month ago they did not dream. Now they sit around in circles and talk about going back to school or learning to do catering to continue the baking skills they’ve learned at our house (not from me, I know

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pamela

How to Recover Your Heart

“The city will be rebuilt on her ruins.” Jeremiah 30:18 (Pamela, age 16, raped, with daughter Maria–they live in our house) Here, they do not cry. But I watch an Acholi girl cry. I think in the end, what scares her most, what scares all of them, all of us, most, is being alone. I think of her—being left. They promised to stay, but left. I think of the moment she knew she was pregnant and how a place inside her wanted to die. Not wanted. That belly, a scarlet letter. And home is now a place of disapproving looks

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Rwanda: When the Heart Breaks Open

They really love Shakira here in Uganda…she’s playing again! And her hips don’t lie. I’m in Uganda now. I left the missionary I was working with, or rather, was asked to leave due to my voicing some concerns about a colonialist mentality within the organization that I couldn’t abide by.  Ha, guess you either love me or you hate me, but I honestly feel relieved. Wasn’t sure if I could handle working for Dr. Lynn for another 3 weeks. I’m amazed by how life here makes some missionaries I’ve encountered hard and cynical. There is such a need for healing and support.

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The One in Front of You

                      Every morning I shut off my alarm about six times, pull my ear plugs out of my ears, untangle myself from my mosquito net, roll over and somewhere in there ask God to give me the people he wants me to help that day. Some of us like to call them “divine appointments.” Beth Moore likes to call them “God stops,” but whatever one calls them it’s a moment when we recognize the gravity of a person entering our life and another layer of meaning behind our simple encounter.

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Let the Children Come

                The ability that children have to touch our hearts is truly astounding. The way they carry the face of God to us in their embraces, and in their innocence is why Jesus said let the children come to me…because I think he could see His Father in them. That he had so much to learn just through their stories and their voices. One of the team members told me today how her grandson who is only two years old said “hallebuyah” his version of “hallelujiah” on the phone with her because he

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the childre

The Day I Started a Blog

The Chronicles of Sarita’s Longest Time It’s Ever Taken To Plan A Trip–Take One I thought about putting my blog in pink, since red wasn’t available and it’ll probably take me about a month to figure out how to change my settings or I might mooch off a computer nerd. I felt the pressure to try and come up with something witty for my title, but let’s be honest, sometimes it just looks like people are trying too hard. It’s amazing to me that something like blogs exist anyway and how far we go to connect with one another and

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