tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85501235299256632282024-03-14T02:15:56.422-04:00Rahabs Rope - VolunteerRahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-40261061513563207662015-08-26T09:00:00.000-04:002015-08-26T09:00:00.542-04:00Retrospect<em>How was your week?</em><br />
<br />
<em>Not good.</em><br />
<br />
She slides down to the ground, her back against the wall, till her
knees are pulled up to her chest, and she covers her knees with her thin
purple kurta–she is always wearing purple or blue–and she wraps her
arms around my arm and lays her head against my shoulder, and she sighs.<br />
<br />
—the clapping of children in the alleyway the scream the raucous of
kids the sloshing of water carried in a pail out to the field of excrement
flies hovering in the doorway a woman comforting her child by loosening
her blouse sari pinned over thin shoulders the teacher’s voice yelling
for silence but everybody is too wound up and we sit in the haze and
thrumming fans and the muted noise of it all sweat dripping down my arms
into her thick rough hair her eyes half closed all the grief of the
world contained in each exhale—<br />
<br />
<em>Not good.</em><br />
<br />
My heart burns. The wound is months old, but I imagine all the
things I would do to that man, and realize I am not the first to think
such things. I have no touch to heal what touch has destroyed. I lean
my head against the wall, aware of the weight of her existence. I want
to see her laughing with her friends in the street, fondling a new
puppy. I want to see her running and playing games and mindless. I want
to see her singing. Not like this. Head drooping against my shoulder,
sigh after sigh, and who knows what thoughts plague her sweet head, the
same head that quickly kissed me on the cheek and looked happily at me
as she ran off, happy that she had expressed her love for me.<br />
<br />
<em>You are my sister. You are beautiful so beautiful, sister.</em><br />
<br />
* * *<br />
<br />
<em>I want to be a police inspector! </em><br />
<br />
She sits very straight, smiling at her dream career, eyes deep and bright, in the circle of girls, everyone shouting dreams.<br />
<br />
<em>I want to go to America!</em><br />
<br />
<em>I want to climb a mountain!</em><br />
<br />
<em>I want to be a teacher!</em><br />
<br />
<em>I want to find good husband!</em><br />
<br />
They dream. And she sits there, in a cloud of possibilities.<br />
<br />
<em>She is happy even if she can just give a pencil to someone. </em> Her teacher looks at her with a smile.<br />
<br />
* * *<br />
<br />
I ask her to find a comb, and she reluctantly leaves my side, going
to the neighbors houses in search of one. Girls are dancing around us,
playing games, laughing, making jokes, forgetting.<br />
<br />
She sits at my feet and I begin with the tangled ends, slowly tugging
away. And for fifteen minutes she sits between my knees, and I brush
her hair, and I think, this is what sisters do for each other when no
words can cross the barriers. I braid the hair heavy, weighing her
down, I tell her she has lovely hair, even though it is so dirty that
it’s hard to handle. But it smells of coconuts and earth.<br />
<br />
I did not know that it would be the last time I saw her, when her mother forbid her to come anymore to the school.<br />
<br />
Yet she sent me a letter the day I left, a pair of earrings delicately wrapped in paper, her exclaiming over and over again <em>you are so beautiful sister you are my big sister I will always pray to God for you.</em><br />
<br /><em>Lord promise me she’s well, promise me she’s safe. </em>Does God make such promises?<br />
<br />
All I am left with is Dietrich Bonhoeffer to satisfy my pleading.<br />
<blockquote>
‘He hath done all things well.’ Let this be the word we
speak about every week, about every hour that has passed. Let us take
these words with us into our prayer until there is not a single hour
left about which we are not ready to say, ‘He hath done all things
well.’ And just the days that were hard for us, that tormented and
frightened us, days that have left a trace of bitterness in us, are the
ones that we will not leave behind until we can also say of them, humbly
and thankfully, ‘He hath done all things well.’ We are not to forget,
but to overcome. And that is done through gratitude. We are not to try
to solve the unsolved riddles of the past and fall to brooding, <strong>but leave behind what we cannot understand and give it back peacefully into the hands of God.</strong> That is done through humility. ‘He hath done all things well.’ (emphasis added)</blockquote>
I look through the narrow lens of retrospect, and I see her sweet
face, and I can never forget the look in her eyes the day that I met
her, when she sat aloof and sad from everyone else, and all I think is I
miss her hanging on my arm as I walked through her slum or sat by her
side. And I think, sometimes the most painful things become the
sweetest, and sometimes the most beautiful things become painful because
they have been so lovely.<br />
<br />
Yet, truly, he has given me the faith to say, he hath done all things well.<br />
<br />
<i>- RH, Goa volunteer. Reposted with permission.</i> Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-22005319037222846582015-07-13T14:01:00.002-04:002015-07-13T14:03:11.754-04:00<br />
<h2 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">How’s it Goa-ing?<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<br />
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Kristen Marks<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">June 13 8:47 AM<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Some might look at my hand and simply see mehndi. When I
glance down, I see the girls who did it and the bonds that are starting to
form. My project for the summer is to develop and carry out leadership
development trainings. I am working with two staff ladies, a group of girls
(ages 17-22) from the stitching center, and a group of girls (ages 15-18) who
are the daughters of CSWs. I’ll be developing the curriculum, leading a series
of workshops, and carrying out evaluations to see the effectiveness of the
curriculum. While I knew that building relationships and trust would be
essential in order to effectively teach the girls, I did not realize how truly
important it was. The past four weeks have really shown me that. The girls at
the stitching center are not the most receptive and trusting of outsiders. While
it is slow going, connections are starting to be made. Whether it’s doing
mehndi on my hand or asking where “Kristen friend” is when I’m working in a
different slum, I think trust is forming. Even though those are just small
gestures, they have been significant to me. It’s been a lot of just sitting
there, being a consistent presence, and talking to the girls. For an introvert
and someone who is more task oriented, this has definitely stretched me and put
me out of my comfort zone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I left home a little over four weeks ago. My weeks have been
full of figuring out how things work here, meeting new people, learning the bus
system and how to get around and starting to form connections. The past four
weeks have gone really quickly (aside from the nights prior to monsoon season
when you were so hot the hours stretched on forever). Monsoon started in Goa
when I was in Mumbai for a few days, and I am very happy. The heat and humidity
were unlike anything I have ever experienced. The rains have cooled things a
little, and I am actually sleeping at night for the first time since I have
gotten to India.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Aside from the weather, Goa is beautiful. I mean… it better
be if it’s India’s big tourist spot! Being in another country shows me the
interconnectedness of the world. The roads I travel could be roads I travel could
be roads in a number of other countries. A tree transports me to Malawi. There
are smells that bring me to Uganda. The colors of the homes send me to
Honduras. And the crashing of the beach makes me feel like I am home in
Jacksonville. I am thankful that these places have stayed with me and are a
part of my story. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">One of the hardest things is the amount of attention I get
because of my skin color. I thought it would not be that much of an issue
because I’ve traveled a lot and would be used to it, but it is a lot worse
here. People constantly stare. They are always taking pictures. A lot of the
times I want to just take pictures back, but that would be inappropriate. It makes
me very uncomfortable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I will start the leadership trainings this coming week. Pray
for these trainings and the curriculum being finalized, and pray for continued
trust and connected trust and connections between the girls. Thank you,
friends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-20709192561509449472014-09-15T15:43:00.002-04:002014-09-15T15:43:47.411-04:00Religious Curry<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"In the Garden of Eden," said the man sitting opposite me, "good and evil are united in the form of a fruit… Since that time, we see the division. Good, separated from evil, is written on every man's heart. You, my friend, must listen to your heart to know what is good. And when you do this, you will know God because God is good." </span></div>
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I was astounded by the diversity in this man’s world views. Trying to help untangle this fishing-line of truths and lies, we debated for almost 2 hours. </span></div>
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">His soup of theology contained an unwavering believe that he was saved through Jesus Christ but also through his childhood devotion to the Catholic saints. It was heavily salted with New Age belief that you decide what is right for yourself and peppered with Hinduism claiming that doing good is the essence of knowing God. </span></div>
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">"You see a man stealing." He continued, "I say that is wrong; YOU say that is wrong. We are agreed. You look at it from one side; I look from the other side. We both are correct…"</span></div>
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Stories like this one seem to come up everywhere. A land steeped in Hindu thought has little resentment for the name of Jesus. Accepting the gospel is not a stretch: removing all previous religious orientation is, knowing that being a sold-out believer is considered to be the most embarrassing of religions. </span></div>
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Still, I am deeply encouraged by the faith of those who have none but Jesus. There are three of us on the field, and the work we are doing stretches ad blesses us every day. The heart cries of Believers praying for their neighbors living in demonic darkness and the laughs of school children torn away from troubled lives for a few short hours a day; it makes our hearts melt. </span></div>
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It is the end of the first week. Lack of sleep and a head cold are testing two of us. God is faithful. We have had many first experiences, and I'm sure they will not end soon. The biggest culture shock for me was lack of personal space. Every other experience has been fascinating. </span></div>
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Will we ever see the fruit of these Gospel conversations or witness the life-changing power of our Bible stories on young children and unbelieving teachers? Maybe not until the end of time. India has already pushed our prayers into high gear.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<br />
<div style="color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">CS - Goa Intern</span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-3979561251639420552014-08-18T14:56:00.000-04:002014-08-18T14:56:54.291-04:00I don't tell them<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt;">The plane touches down in DFW airport. It’s been 36 hours since I left India, and my emotions are all out of whack due to jet lag and lack of sleep. On the verge of exhausted tears, I make arrangements to have my delayed bag delivered to my apartment.</span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3pt; margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="color: white;">The next day is a blur of catnaps and puppy kisses and phone calls to family during hours of alertness.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3pt; margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XJXR_XRIBLU/U_JKa4-AdwI/AAAAAAAAARI/Frw5O-MAX-Y/s1600/20140807_041915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XJXR_XRIBLU/U_JKa4-AdwI/AAAAAAAAARI/Frw5O-MAX-Y/s1600/20140807_041915.jpg" height="320" width="287" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="color: white;">I wake up early the next morning to get ready for work. Everything seems surreal, as if I am still asleep in my bed in India and dreaming of home. Driving down the highway, I keep expecting other drivers to honk at me as they pass…but this is not India, and honking does not mean “hello, I am passing you; please don’t move over” here. “Namaste!” I greet my coworkers. No one notices the mehndi on my hands or the jingling anklet on my foot.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KvVR_z6veSs/U_JKeSR1ioI/AAAAAAAAARQ/D8YfNR7z9GI/s1600/20140804_231644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KvVR_z6veSs/U_JKeSR1ioI/AAAAAAAAARQ/D8YfNR7z9GI/s1600/20140804_231644.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3pt; margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt;"><span style="color: white;">Was it just last week when I was singing silly songs with a room full of children? Was it just la</span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt;">st week when I sat around the dinner table with my friends, talking about the craft for the next day? Was it just last week when I was boarding a run-down bus to go into town to eat lunch, and watching all the cows and dogs and goats wander down the road?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt; text-align: left;">“How was India?” The inevitable question. As if I can sum it up in a sentence or two. “Awesome!” I always reply. “I had a lot of fun spending time with the kids.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3pt; margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="color: white;">I don’t tell them about the darkness that has reigned over the subcontinent for thousands of years, the spiritual oppression you feel all day, every day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">I don’t tell them about how unvalued women are there, how I avoided the eyes of every man to reduce the risk of unwanted advances.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 18.3pt;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="color: white;">I don’t tell them about the overwhelming grief I felt when I would see a woman kiss her fingers and touch a passing cow, as if it could save her.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3pt; margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="color: white;">I don’t tell them…it’s too soon.</span></span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-31579997531142991892014-07-14T12:48:00.001-04:002014-07-14T12:51:29.724-04:00there and back again (part two)<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: white;">I’ve been reading about human trafficking for years. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10494649_10154336546750220_4021548990096652593_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10494649_10154336546750220_4021548990096652593_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">If there’s a documentary about it, there’s a good chance I’ve watched it and can recommend it to you. I’ve read books, I can name off some of the big name organizations focused on eliminating it and rescuing victims, I know that trafficking for labor and sex happens both in the United States and overseas. I’ve read of horrific cases that seem so dark and so riddled with evil that they almost seem fabricated–how is it possible for humans to treat other humans with such contempt? The same is true for hearing stories of children left to fend for themselves. How can adults watch children, five year olds taking care of one year olds, and not feel the overwhelming sadness of it? How can people watch and do nothing?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The difference for me now is after going to India, and being just minutes away from the Red Light District (though I never went it), I have more than stories and statistics.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>I have people. </b><br />
<b>I have relationships.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I have face-to-face moments I shared with tiny human beings who have personalities and are real people.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I have three little faces* looking up at me with dark, trusting eyes, and I hear that they watched their father set their mother on fire and that she died in front of them. These ones? These little ones, 7, 5 and 2, who still somehow smile and play–two boys and a little girl. She’s too young to remember, which is the only mercy, but the older boys surely must remember something. The oldest boy wakes up from naptime crying almost every day. All the kids protest, but he fights me with a particular distress. It occurs to me that maybe he remembers something.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s not a story. It’s not an impersonal, distant statistic.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>It’s a reality, and it’s their reality.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<a href="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10452353_10154336545845220_7277891471832831667_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; color: #494949; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10452353_10154336545845220_7277891471832831667_n.jpg" width="266" /></a><span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s not “so many children are suffering with AIDS”, it’s our little Sultan*, who looks more like a three year old than a six year old, and more like a little elderly man with his missing teeth.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; min-height: 18px;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He sleeps most of the day, and was feverish and lethargic when I first arrived, but finally started school for the first time the last week I was there, and it’s an exciting triumph. He didn’t warm up to me too much in the time I was there, since he has his favorite “didi” (the name the children call us all: “sister”), but he did climb into my lap once to laugh at videos on my phone. He was so small in my lap. He has siblings, much older siblings, but doesn’t want anything to do with them and throws temper tantrums. I’m not sure why.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s not “ex amount of children are living on the streets alone”. It’s the fairest Indian boy I’ve seen yet, with bright blue eyes that make him look like more like a European. I find out that his funny little swagger and tough guy nature that causes him to lash out occasionally with his fists probably kept him alive while he lived homeless from two years. He’s about eight now. He’s so young. How is it possible?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s not “such and such children grow up in the brothels their mothers work in”, it’s this little one and the fact that her mom was swinging her into a brick wall by her hair in the brothels when the girls found her.</span></div>
<div style="color: #050505; font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; min-height: 18px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10513474_10154336547090220_3286518154121876941_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10513474_10154336547090220_3286518154121876941_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">She’s been taken back by her mom twice, and if she comes a third time, Rahab’s won’t be able to keep her. Her eyes are huge and her smile is contagious. She’s so beautiful, even now with her short hair that had to be cut to help with the lice all the kids share, and I can’t fathom it as I look at her. How could someone look at this little doll and harm her?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And on and on and on it goes.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But even as I share here, I realize they could be reduced to stories. It almost feels sacrilegious or disrespectful to share, somehow. I choose to, still, because meeting them changed my perspective on things. What I previously categorized as an atrocity that was predominantly a woman’s struggle I now see as a dark claw that reaches past women to children, both boys and girls, and men as well. There is no cinematic glamor or grit about it and it should never be simplified with dramatics. Please understand me when I write the words that are so unflinching and so uncompromising: <b>it was real.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">And now that I know, now that I’ve seen, now that I’ve been there… now what?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">What is the next step?<br />
What can I do?<br />
What can I say?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sometimes I feel that sharing my experiences means that I should have an answer or a “lesson learned” or a sunny bow to tie everything up with by the end of the blog. I usually do. But this is heavy and today I don’t have answers… other than I know with every fiber of my being that I’ll fight this.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Satan is a nasty foe, <b>but Jesus has already overcome.</b></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>*For safety reasons, names have been changed and faces are hidden</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<b><span style="color: white; font-family: Hoefler Text;"><span style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0px;">To read this blog in it's </span><span style="font-size: 15px;">original format:</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: white; font-family: Hoefler Text;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></span></b>
<span style="color: white;"><b>http://alizetigirl.wordpress.com/2014/07/08/there-and-back-again-part-two/</b></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b><br /></b></span>
<b><span style="color: white;">Used with permission from author. </span></b></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-69774308326546783642014-07-14T12:35:00.003-04:002015-08-24T14:48:59.576-04:00there and back again (part one)<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0px;">No hobbits here, but I have made it back again after an eye opening several weeks. I think that I’ve been somehow avoiding writing because I haven’t been ready to process but I can tell it’s time. With some solitude and a little iced coffee, I suppose it’s okay to let the tears fall freely.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>The Organization</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">First I want to share about <a href="http://www.rahabsrope.com/"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Rahab’s Rope</span></a>, wonderful nonprofit I was privileged to join in ministry. Started by Vicki and David Moore back in 2004 after Vicki heard stories of young women and girls being trafficked for sex, they have three locations in Bangalore, Goa and Mumbai. Additionally, Rahab’s has a store location in downtown Gainesville, Georgia where they sell products that the women create to generate revenue for the ministry.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">God has shown them incredible favor and opened up opportunities for them in the darkest of places—their predominant position of ministry is directly inside the brothels and red light districts where they spend time teaching (both reading, English, trade skills and most importantly, about Jesus), loving and building relationships with the women that are enslaved. Rahab’s partners with <a href="http://www.ijm.org/"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">International Justice Mission</span></a> to actually rescue women, but they also don’t give up on the girls that are unable to leave, or even more incredibly, not ready to step away from the only life they know.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I can’t speak highly enough about the dedication and bravery of the long term staff that walk into places most of us would consider unthinkable and spend their time serving and loving those the world at large might consider unredeemable. To me, that is the very heart that Jesus had while he was on earth, and it is part of the beauty of our God—there is no one, <b>no one</b>, who can find himself (or herself) out of His sight or out of His reach.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’ve never been more passionate about a cause in my life, and I stand 100% behind Rahab’s Rope, International Justice Mission and any group of believers who not only are dedicated to helping women in a tangible, physical, practical way, but also recognizes the need for the spiritual healing that only Jesus is able to offer.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">—–</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>The Children’s Home: Mumbai</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">With specific numbers varying from source to source, it’s estimated that there are between 20 million (<a href="http://www.hindustantimes.com/india-news/newdelhi/about-20m-kids-in-india-orphans-study/article1-725905.aspx"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hindustan Times</span></a>) and 31 million (<a href="http://www.hopechest.org/india/"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">UNICEF</span></a>) orphans in India today. Some children are abandoned by their families, some are orphaned by AIDS, some are ‘illegitimate’ children of commercial sex workers (CSW), some are HIV/AIDS positive themselves. Any way you choose to look at it, there are staggering amounts of children who are in dire physical need; it goes without saying that the spiritual poverty is just as devastating.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Partnering with local brothers, who are also pastors, Rahab’s is caring for about 75 children between the ages of 2 and 18, the help of full time national staff and short-term volunteers from the States. All of the children living in the home are either 1) orphans, 2) children of CSW and/or 3) HIV positive. Together, Rahab’s and the nationals have been able to arrange scholarships with different schools around the city so the children are able to receive an education, as well as a more stable living condition that is found at the children’s home. The little ones have their basic needs for clothes, food, shelter, health care, education, loving care and play met—and they learn about Jesus.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m not able to post most of the photos I took for safety reasons; some of the children are still being sought after by madams in the brothels and putting images of their faces on the internet is ill-advised. Rest assured, they are completely and flawlessly precious.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">—–</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Where I come in</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/10389959_10154307546425220_8105800730729825471_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" src="http://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/10389959_10154307546425220_8105800730729825471_n.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As a short term volunteer I spent my time in the children’s home, predominately with the young 5 – 9 year old boys, doing VBS activities, helping the boys get washed, dressed and ready for the day, playing little games and doing lots and lots and lots of cuddling. It’s difficult for the kids to get enough one on one cuddles and attention that all children inherently need, and that is the most valuable thing I was able to contribute during my time. Love given to honor Jesus, no matter how seemingly “insignificant” or small, is never love wasted. It is the very heart of God.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">——–</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>The Team</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10463983_10154330930255220_127258929834830136_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://alizetigirl.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/10463983_10154330930255220_127258929834830136_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I also had a chance to meet other girls my age passionate about the same things as me, despite the differences in our backgrounds. There was a time where I would have said that two nursing students, a nutritionist student, a missionary kid/psyche graduate, a naval officer, an ex-elementary teacher and myself wouldn’t have anything in common, but we all shared a love for Jesus and a desire to be His hands in a world much darker than the one we grew up in. I can’t explain how encouraging and exciting it was to see these ladies in action each day, and to share a living space with them. We shared so much fun and so much heartbreak over the little ones and the experience would not have been the same without them.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Several of the girls are still over there and you can read more about their day to day activities and learn how to pray for them and the littles ones on their blogs:</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><a href="http://kaitlinchance.com/">Moments in Mumbai</a></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> <span style="color: black;">–<span style="color: white;"> Kaitlin</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://thescarletcord.tumblr.com/">The Scarlet Cord</a></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: center;"> – Valerie</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">(To Be Continued)</span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="color: white;">To read blog in it's original format:</span></b></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="color: white;">http://alizetigirl.wordpress.com/2014/07/07/there-and-back-again-part-one/</span></b></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Hoefler Text'; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 24.2px; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="color: white;">Used with permission from author.</span></b></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-77212120795120466672013-08-16T11:33:00.001-04:002013-08-16T11:35:04.121-04:00All about You... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-THH4xZ9_ujU/Ug5D3EVBiTI/AAAAAAAAAQo/1qTJYAH_0zg/s1600/image%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-THH4xZ9_ujU/Ug5D3EVBiTI/AAAAAAAAAQo/1qTJYAH_0zg/s320/image%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a> "I'm coming back to the heart of worship, And it's all about You..." <br />
<br />
Yesterday
was the last day of the mission with Rahab's Rope, in Goa, and my last
full day in India. So after almost 10 weeks with Oasis, in Mumbai and
Bangalore, and 2 weeks with Rahab's Rope in Goa, my trip is coming to an
end and I was given chance to reflect on what God has been teaching me.
One of the questions in our group debrief was, 'what is the main thing
that God has taught you during this trip?’ That is a challenging
question. He has been so tangibly close to me in my whole time here and I
have countless examples of His grace, mercy and faithfulness. He has
taught me so much about His character, and mine, and I am excited about
what the future might look like now that this experience is being woven
into it.<br />
<br />
But, what is the main thing He has taught me? As I
often do in those situations I began frantically trying to rehearse an
answer that would sound good, witty or very spiritual (yes, I do that)
but then I stopped. I literally laid down and waited for God to bring
something to mind. I should do this more often because it was pretty
incredible. He just reminded me of a thought I had begun last Sunday,
but stopped because it was a bit scary... We were in church and the
band were playing 'Heart of Worship'. I love that song. <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FZFeEwjIGK4/Ug5D2s12_OI/AAAAAAAAAQU/CmUvO9GpBBU/s1600/image(3).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FZFeEwjIGK4/Ug5D2s12_OI/AAAAAAAAAQU/CmUvO9GpBBU/s320/image(3).jpeg" title="" width="240" /></a><br />
Yes, I
could definitely resonate with this. I sang along, feeling content that
my being in India was 'all about You, Jesus'. I've been here living out
the gospel, right? Good news to the poor? Release for the captives?
Setting the prisoner free? Yep, it was all there. I was only a week
away from going home and I realized that I'd missed the point somewhere
along the way. It wasn't 'all about You, Jesus' was it? I'd made it all
about so many other things... "I'm sorry Lord for the thing I've made
it . When it's all about You" <br />
<br />
I'd made it about things that
may seem good, and right even. I'd made it about the women, and about
the children. About those who were still living in brothels and being
systematically raped every day. About those who have been abandoned in
orphanages that don't meet their needs. About women who eek out a
living during the monsoon seasons when nobody comes to her shop.<br />
<br />
I'd
made it about me, about how I could change the world, how I could
rescue them and how I could tell others about what I've done. And yes,
I was doing this for God. I was doing all of this because I fully
believe this is what following Jesus looks like; this is radical
discipleship. I'd forgotten that this is all about Him. That this is
only about Him. It is Jesus who rescues, heals, redeems, frees and
loves. I am blessed that He has chosen to share His work with me but it
really is His work, not mine. I had made an idol of the ministry and
the women and children (even of the pimps and the madams), and that is
my biggest lesson on this trip. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pW983dlbd7U/Ug5D2cZSLDI/AAAAAAAAAQY/wSSUiXoTIE8/s1600/image%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pW983dlbd7U/Ug5D2cZSLDI/AAAAAAAAAQY/wSSUiXoTIE8/s320/image%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Yes, I have learned enormous
amounts about prevention, intervention and aftercare in human
trafficking. Yes, I have learned about the faithfulness, grace and
mercy of God. Yes, I have learned about life in India and the
atrocities of the commercial sex trade here. Yes, I have seen, heard
and experienced things I will never forget. <br />
<br />
The bottom line is
that this is ALL about Jesus. It is not about me. It is not about India.
It is not even really about human trafficking. This trip has been an
out-working of worship; a response to God's love for me and my
understanding of His love for the world. Worship. And that needs to
begin with the realization that it is Jesus who changes the world, not
me.<br /><br />Blessings,<br />
<i>G - India Volunteer</i>Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-53813088040579539712013-04-03T16:17:00.002-04:002013-04-03T17:43:30.289-04:00A Message of Hope<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaV3xr9klf0/UVyKgilKL8I/AAAAAAAAAPI/AksfA1j6wJE/s1600/001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaV3xr9klf0/UVyKgilKL8I/AAAAAAAAAPI/AksfA1j6wJE/s320/001.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Recently
I was blessed to take a trip to India. The Lord had been speaking to
my heart for 3 years about going. I didn't even know why, but I kept
praying for clarity for what his will was for this trip and that I be
obedient in his calling. In God's perfect timing, he revealed to me
India's Human Trafficking. I was led to a wonderful organization called Rahab's Rope who are
passionate about this cause.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Southeast
Asia is home to the world's largest population of slaves. Trafficking
into forced prostitution victimizes more children in India than any
other country in the world. (International Justice Mission) A report by
the United Nations Center for Development and Population Activities
indicates that approximately 200 girls and women in India enter sex work
every day. More than 160 are coerced into it. (Time<span class="Apple-style-span">s</span> Of India).</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br />I had the opportunity to be with some the women who have been victims of India's sex slave trade. <span class="Apple-style-span">Rahab's Rope</span>
is working with </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">these women </span>to educate them and teach them about Christ, so they know
they have a choice. They live by the cast system. If you are born poor,
you stay poor. Born rich, you will be educated and be able to have a
good job. And If you are from the slums, you are not even good enough to be
in the cast system. <span class="Apple-style-span">Many</span>
also believe in reincarnation. If you work hard enough at the level
you are born into and pray, you will die and come back at a better
level.<br /><br />While I was in India we went into the slums and met some beautiful girls
(10-14), many at high risk for prostitution or for being sold. These girls
were so much fun! They were just regular, silly teenage girls. They were
learning English very quickly, and were also being taught the word of
God. If these girls receive help and are educated, no one will know where they came from, and
they will not feel forced into prostitution. I did not want to leave
them; even I now, miss them so much. <br /><br />Another
place we visited was where the prostitutes are brought after the police
have a raid, where they must wait (sometimes for months ) to be tried by a
judge. I cannot express the emotion I felt in that place. I felt led by
God's Holy Spirit to speak to them and tell them the God of Abraham is
their hope. I felt this was my purpose for being there. At this same
place, we met some boys who were found begging at a train station and
were brought in. They will probably end up in an orphanage. Their smiles
were so beautiful, and they were such a gift to meet. <br /><br />God's
word commands us to help the poor and those in need. We may be
persecuted, but we have the promise of eternal glory. The faithful women
I served with on this trip also felt God's call to reach out to these
women and children. I was abundantly blessed more then I could ever
give. I could never have done this in my own strength, and I continue
prayer for guidance to go back to fulfill God's purpose. Proverbs
3:5-6 says "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own
understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your
paths straight." I find this verse to be true.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Blessings,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><i> </i></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">M</span>- Bangalore Christmas Team</i></span></span></span>Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-61440325889381477852013-01-31T13:51:00.001-05:002013-04-03T14:57:37.901-04:00India and Suda<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: white;">India. This is my third time coming to India through this organization. It has been so amazing to see this organization grow and to be apart of what Rahab’s Rope is doing has been a privilege and such a blessing. I always come to India with a heart to pour into God’s people and every time I leave being poured into with a heart that is overjoyed by the time I had here. During my time in India God put it on my heart his love for us and how we can practically love on his people and what that looks like. Love is clearly defined in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. I want to love people in this way as God loves us. Every person and child I meet while in India loves us with no questions asked and with little knowledge of who we are. This is how we should love on each other every day and how God loves us. India teaches me how to love. God loved us before we knew him and while we were still sinners. God sent his one and only son to die on the cross for us. This boggles my mind every day and I am continually amazed by who God is and his love for us. I fall more in love with the people in India every time I come. The women and children teach me so much not only how to love but also their hospitality and willingness to give when they themselves have very little. Taking with me back home to the states would be giving more, showing more hospitality, and reaching out to my own community, and loving God’s people practically.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white;">Suda is a little girl who I have seen the past three times I have come to India. She is twelve years old and has deformed arms and legs. When she was born she was able to walk and gradually over time all her limbs started to bend where she could not longer walk on her own. Her brother and friends help her get to school every day along with her mom bringing her to the program </span><span style="color: white;">Samir holds at his house every afternoon. Shortly after I left over the summer she broke her hip bone causing her to be bed ridden and shortly after that she fell while riding the bus and her thigh bone broke. She can no longer go to school or attend the afternoon program but has to stay home and rest day and night. Her dad sees her as a burden and with every bone that breaks he drinks more. She is a beautiful little girl inside and out and every chance we got we would go visit her and she always had a smile in her face. Seeing her in that state breaks my heart, but also encourages my heart just to see her smile. She is never angry or upset by her circumstances, but filled with such a joy. She inspires me to smile in the face of trials and rejoice in all circumstances knowing God will get me through. I love her so much and I ask that you would keep her and her family in your prayers.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Blessings,<br /><i>C- Goa Christmas Team</i></span></span></span></span>Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-86691383555694673252013-01-21T14:28:00.003-05:002013-01-21T14:28:32.667-05:00First Impressions Aren't Everything<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="color: white;">They say that first impressions are
everything. After living in India, I’m not so sure that’s the
case. My first impression was that it was dirty, had an odor more
potent than tear gas, and that all the citizens were ruthless,
dehumanizing people. All I ever heard about India in the states was
about their lack of compassion towards their own people, and of
course, about their notorious human trafficking trade. It didn’t
take me long to realize that the media was missing out on one big
thing: their love. Pure love. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">In the months I've lived here during the
summer, and this quick week of return, my heart has been overwhelmed
by all the love I’ve received. These people aren’t ruthless
at all. They have shown me what it means to love unconditionally.
They took me as I was, and loved me for all that I was. They taught
me the meaning of ‘love your neighbor as yourself." And even in the
midst of their pain, they somehow still found a way to show me the
meaning of joy. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">I often wondered why they treated me
the way they did. The poorest of poors would still serve me a
three course meal, knowing that their own family would probably not
eat tonight. They demonstrate the sacrificial giving that we see in
the gospels of the widow who gave her last two coins. But why? I’d
like to believe it was because of me but to be quite honest, I know
it wasn’t. There is nothing fantastic about my nature and to say
that would be quite narcissistic. One day as I sat in front of the
women for life skills I had asked them why they like us here. Her
simple response gave me the answer I’ve been searching for. She
told me “we like to hear your stories about your faith. We like
your God.” They love us because He lives in us. It wasn’t about
me or any individual person that came through the slums of India, but
about the way Christ shined in that person. Day in and day out,
believers are walking into the slums not because they think they can
change anything, but because we know Christ can. These beautiful
people showed me that India is worth far more than I could ever
imagine.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Blessings,<i> </i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><i>J- G<span style="font-size: small;">oa Christmas Team</span></i></span></span></span></span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-60006559954295295122013-01-14T15:35:00.004-05:002013-01-14T15:35:58.866-05:00English Lessons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Growing up in an English speaking nation, I never realized how difficult learning our language could be. Nor have I ever stopped to think how having multiple languages in one country could make an impact. India has numerous languages, but to be able to communicate with foreigners, a major source of</div>
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income for many Indian people, they must be able to speak English.</div>
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I spent Friday morning this week teaching English lessons to some ladies who spoke primarily Hindi, which, though it is India's main language, it is just one of the many languages spoken there. The ladies were so sweet and so eager to learn, that it really blessed me and reminded me how available knowledge is in the States, but how hungry people are in other cultures to</div>
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learn. Kids in the U.S. see school as something to be endured until adulthood, but these grown women wanted so badly to be taught our language.</div>
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English is a very difficult language to learn. I was reminded of just how many rules are irregular, and it is almost unfair to those who try to learn English later in life. Trying to teach the difference between "coming" and "going" was much more difficult that I ever imagined it might be. How do you explain such a subtle difference in connotation to someone who wouldn't think that it just "sounds right?" And how do you explain what a direct quote is to people who are having to work so hard to comprehend your every word? And yet that is exactly what we did. And through the grace of God, it seemed to work! We were able to draw pictures, act things out and give examples to help the ladies understand. The most rewarding part was when they began to get the sample sentences correct on the first try. And they just kept wanting to do more and more until our time was over.</div>
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I so often take for granted the education that is available all over the U.S. We don't even have to learn another language if we don't want to, but if we choose to do so, we can pick up a book on tape at the library and learn a new language just for fun. This is not the case in India, nor in most of the world outside the U.S. I am so blessed to have gotten to see the desire these ladies have to learn, and to have been a part of their learning. This experience has made me much more thankful for the education and opportunities I have had, because I now realize what a rarity that is in this world.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Blessings,<br /><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">LB</span>- Goa Volunteer</i></span></span></span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-7338834298447063992013-01-10T14:09:00.000-05:002013-03-13T14:28:47.962-04:00Hands and Feet<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-272755107337546001" itemprop="description articleBody">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one
of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ </i></b>Matthew
25:40 (NIV)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A mission trip to India!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Where do I begin?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In the beginning:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The company my husband works for hires contractors from India and one of
the contractors and my husband became great friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was such a sweet guy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He became like family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our kids called him Uncle John.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He ate with us, we took him to his first
professional hockey and baseball game, we took him to church…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While he was taking in our culture I began to
become very interested in his culture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
found myself wanting to go to India.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
too long after, we had a couple come to our Sunday School class that had just
moved back from India!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That Christmas
our women’s ministry had a luncheon and the speaker was from a ministry called
Rahab’s Rope and they go to….. you guessed it… India!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During this luncheon God moved in my
heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the speaker finished
speaking I looked around the table and I was the only one in tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was completely broken for these ladies in
India and wanted to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would love to
say I signed up right then and went, but it took a few years to get there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know God’s timing is perfect and I can’t
imagine a better time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God worked out
every detail, every stumbling block, EVERYTHING!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no anxieties about going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t get there fast enough.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After a full 24 hours of travel, I had finally arrived in
India.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">While
I was there God showed me over and over again that we just need to be an
obedient, willing body and He will use us and He will be glorified!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were times that I wondered how we would
be received by the ladies and children we met that spoke a different language,
but it never mattered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They loved us and
we fell in love with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hugs, smiles,
laughter, joy, love, photography, food are all universal languages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does not take a public speaker to reach
hearts and share God’s love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes us
being the hands and feet of Jesus Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My prayer for the trip from the time I knew I was going was that we
would be the Hands and feet of Jesus.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">If we are to truly become Jesus' hands and feet, we must
share His love for "the least of these."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He touched lepers – we touched women and
children with HIV/Aids, He welcomed women and children – we did also, He dined
with criminals – we shared cookies and tea with women that have been sold into
a life of crime, He championed the poor – we gave gifts and encouraged the poor,
He defended the powerless – He gave the woman and children power through us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus spent His time on earth with the hated
and the outcasts and claimed that He had come to "preach good news to the
poor."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spent our time in India
with society’s hated and outcast, but they are so loved by Him!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">India is a physically, emotionally, and spiritually hard
place, but when God stretches us, He is with us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I live such a clean comfortable life in
America and I am often thinking of ways to make it cleaner and more comfortable
instead of thinking of ways to get out of my comfort and let God stretch me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We might not see immediate fruits from our
labor, but if God can take this slightly OCD, germaphobe to India then I know
He will take what we planted and grow something beautiful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Challenge:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can
we be stretched?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can God use us in
our neighborhoods?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can we be the
hands and feet of Jesus to the people around us?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Everytime I hear this song I picture the precious children we met in India. I picture Jesus placing crowns on their heads.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Blssings,<i> </i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><b>S</b></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>- </b></span>G<span style="font-size: small;">oa Christmas Team</span></i></span></span></span></span></div>
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Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-18649207212546221192012-11-20T11:44:00.002-05:002012-11-20T11:53:46.417-05:00Answered Prayers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: white;"> This week He gave me the joy of learning about faith. God has showed me that He is so true to answer our prayers again and again. Each time one is answered, He never ceases to amaze me and leave me in awe of how powerful He is. If you have faith that He will do it, He will! I will tell you a number of answers to prayer which have strengthened my faith tremendously and I hope it does the same for you. The other girls on the team and I spend some time each week with three believers who own shops on the beach. Susanna and I visited one of the ladies, Leah, and she was very down because another woman, who is not a believer, owed Leah a great sum of money for three years. She wrote it down in her books that she would repay Leah. Then recently she told Leah that she never owed her any money. She never wrote it down and denied the truth. Leah came to us just very hurt and in need of prayer. She felt powerless in this situation and felt all she could do was pray. This woman isn't a believer so she did not see any wrong in being dishonest to Leah. But we knew that God can do all things, even convict the hearts of the ungodly. We prayed together and then apart and after a couple of days the woman called and told Leah she would pay her for what she owed!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white;"> Another answer to prayer was with a woman named Sheela, who comes to our Life Skills and English classes every Tuesday and Thursday. This Tuesday Sheela was very distraught and asked us for prayer concerning her sons. Sheela and her family are Hindu but they are open to pray to Jesus. One of Sheela's sons has been getting into fights with other men (both sons are in their late 20's) and causing much trouble in the family. He wouldn't even let Sheela, his mother, leave the house at times. She also wanted us to pray for her other son, Neil, to contact her because she had not heard from him in a very long time and it made her upset that he would not speak to her. We then prayed with her for her sons and for her family to come to know the Lord. We always pray for salvation but we pray in English so they do not know what weare asking Jesus. Thursday when we saw Sheela again; she was eager for more prayer to Jesus. She told us that her son who was causing trouble was now doing well and that her other son Neil called her the very next day after we prayed. Praise the Lord! Neil told her when he called that he has been reading the Bible also! We are now praying that Neil will become a believer and reach Sheela. She is so hungry and knows something about Jesus from all the other gods. When we pray with her to Jesus, things actually happen! I think she is realizing that. I pray she is. <br /> </span><br />
<span style="color: white;"> Sheela asked us to pray for some other things regarding her family and just before we started praying another woman named Sunita came up. She prayed with us and afterwards she said something that truly amazed me. Jules, another girl from our team, prayed with Sunita last week. Sunita is a young woman but she has been suffering from an eye problem for quite some time. She said they were very painful and her vision was very blurry, especially in the mornings. She explained this to Jules and Jules was thrilled to get to pray over her and see God work. Sunita told us that after Jules prayed over her, she was healed! My eyes filled with tears as I was in awe of God and how is constantly revealing Himself to these people in India. Through answered prayers he reminds me of His word and how we must have faith that He will heal and work through us to glorify His name. Matthew 17:20 says "I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." At times, I find myself doubting God, especially at home. But he has taught me to have much faith. Know that we serve a God who is alive, not dead. He is working all the time and is ready to move when we ask in faith! Remember that He can do all things. NOTHING is impossible with God.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;">Blessings, <br />
EG- Goa Volunteer</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-67733032471860776772012-11-15T13:44:00.003-05:002012-11-15T13:51:08.676-05:00Beyond Barriers<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dSURK1xnYUg/UKU3l06Ap5I/AAAAAAAAAMU/a6G87BBil2o/s1600/DSCN0082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dSURK1xnYUg/UKU3l06Ap5I/AAAAAAAAAMU/a6G87BBil2o/s1600/DSCN0082.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="color: white;">During the week, I help look after roughly 100 kids ranging in age from 3 to 14 years old. I love them all, but one girl in particular has captured my heart.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">Radica is old enough to to be in the second grade, but she, like so many girls in India, does not attend school. However, this has not dampened her joyful spirit. Every day, she comes in with a smile, big personality, and and infectious laugh. Radica only knows about 5 words in English, and I only know a few more in Hindi. Neither of us has a clue as to what the other is saying, but that has stopped us from forming a bond.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">When I started working with the children I was very frustrated by the language barrier. The fact that I could barely pronounce their names, much less speak fluent Hindi, weighed on me very much. However, God has shown me that, despite these boundaries, He is able to work through them. As humans on this earth, there are things we are simply not able to do. However, our Savior is able to work through us despite this. When I receive a hug, or tickle a child, or make a silly face at a student, I see that His love is indeed getting through to those I am ministering to. Moses was not the best public speaker, and yet God worked in amazing ways through him. No matter how inadequate we may feel, He will always be able to work through us.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">Blessings, </span><br />
<span style="color: white;">SB - Goa Volunteer</span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-10526527747048934582012-11-13T11:58:00.001-05:002012-11-13T11:59:57.495-05:00Spiritually Disabled<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="background: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3fDSbdphafQ/UKJ6OB45clI/AAAAAAAAAMA/l9UUXVBXGMg/s1600/DSCF2978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3fDSbdphafQ/UKJ6OB45clI/AAAAAAAAAMA/l9UUXVBXGMg/s1600/DSCF2978.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">This
week was a little different from most. Schedules were changed around
in order to accommodate sickness and other meetings going on.
Because of this, I was able to work in the other ministry location
and go back to the after school program that I hadn’t been to in a
while. It ended up being one of the most special days I’ve had
here so far. There are several children in the slum that have leg
deformities. Two of the girls are sisters, and the boy is from a
separate family. The oldest girl can walk on her own, but the
younger boy and girl have to scoot around or rely on others to carry
them from place to place. While we were walking in on Wednesday, the
boy wanted me to carry him, and the younger girl sat in my lap the
whole time during the lesson. She even gave me her drawing she had
colored after the lesson. Being there and having the opportunity to
love, to hold, and even carry these children reminded me of something
my friend Andie told me after her trip this summer to Kenya. After
visiting a Mother Teresa orphanage for the mentally and physically
disabled she related that to how we are spiritually disabled. She
taught me a lot about this, but it wasn’t until i was with these
children with physical disabilities that I understood for myself what
this meant. </span></span></span></span>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Psalm
23:1-4 says, “The Lord is my shepherd. I lack nothing. He makes
me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he
refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right path for his name’s
sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no
evil, for you are with me, your rod and your staff they comfort me”.
</span></span></span></span>
</div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">God
showed me through this experience that it is impossible to live a
holy life in this sinful world without him. We have to rely on him
to provide for us, lead us, and sometimes even carry us on this path
of righteousness. We as humans will fail in this world if we try to
rely on others or even ourselves too much. We have to fully be
dependent on God knowing that we are debilitated without him. Seeing
how those children are physically dependent on the people around
them, made me realize how I need to be in my relationship with God,
dependent on him for every aspect of my life.</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="color: white;">Blessings,<br /><i><span style="font-size: small;">JL</span> - Goa Volunteer</i></span>
</span></span></span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-61662920131999163262012-11-06T15:16:00.000-05:002012-12-05T15:19:05.906-05:00Seeds and Seasons
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: white;">We found out Diwali is next week which
is one of the biggest Hindu holidays, so this week ended up being our
last week of ministry. It was hard to say bye to the many people
we’ve met at our different locations, not knowing if we will ever
see them again. There were a lot of emotions packed into this last
week. Joy that God gave me the opportunity to meet such wonderful
people, laughter thinking about the experiences and funny moments
we’ve had being here, sadness in having to say bye to people I
truly care about and love, and excitement for time adventuring and
debriefing next week with my team before I go back home. I was sick
yesterday so I stayed back at the house and in that time I was really
able to reflect on what has happened since I’ve been here. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: white;">One
thing that was revealed to me in that time was how it was hard a lot
of the time to feel like I had purpose here, that God was really
using me. But what God showed me this past week especially was that
he uses us even in the mundane. That we are his hands and feet
whether we sharing a bible story to a room full of women, or letting
a child play with our hair, or rearranging furniture for a new
stitching class. That God uses us in so many different ways to plant
seeds, and even though I won’t necessarily see those seeds develop,
it’s evident that God is working in these women and children lives
and softening their hearts, and he is allowing me to be able to be a
little bitty piece of the puzzle. When he called me here he didn’t
expect me to know what I was doing he just told me to love his people
and he would do the rest. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: white;">These women and children have taught me so
much; I loved seeing their smiles everyday among the pain they
experience at home. To be able to love them through a hug or a smile
when communicating it was hard. To be able to just spend time with
them and listen so they felt like they were a person and what they
say matters. I don’t know if I’m ready to go back and be
immersed in American culture after being here this long. But I know
this season of my life has almost come to an end and I can’t wait
to see what God has planned next!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: white;">Blessings, <br /> JL- Goa Volunteer</span></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-65117054645910672342012-10-29T09:50:00.001-04:002012-10-29T09:50:12.236-04:00Help Is On The Way<br />
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Recently, I had the distinct privilege of serving in India with a small, but awesome team of women. We grew close quickly as we spent literally every moment together in this foreign land. Many nights we stayed up laughing, crying, praying and discussing all the events of the day. On one such night we stayed up late rehashing the day’s activities. As the night wore on everyone drifted off to sleep. At some point in the night, I awoke to go to the restroom, which was located in our room, a mere 3 feet from one set of bunk beds. Remember this; it will be important later in the story. Several days earlier the door knob on the outside of the bathroom had become dislodged. We tried to fix it to no avail. At some point it simply fell off completely, we put it to the side and made a mental note to attempt a more thorough repair at a later date. I believe it was 3 am when the inevitable happened, I went to open the door and the inside knob came off. No worry, I thought to myself, I am resourceful, and I will simply find a way out. No need to wake the team! As I looked around I quickly realized there were no resources, no tools, nothing to pry the door open with, and nothing that could substitute as a tool. Being raised by a self proclaimed MacGyver I was perplexed at this situation. No tools, no resources, nothing! I did not want to wake my team but unfortunately there was no way out! I began with a slight knocking on the door, calling out, “guys, guys, anybody awake, hello?” No answer. I called out the window perpendicular to the window beside my team members heads. “Guys, wake up, I am locked in the bathroom!” No answer, no sound whatsoever. I became a little more anxious as I realized no one could hear me and there was no place to rest in this Indian style bathroom. Had I been home I may have crawled into the tub and called it a night. It was hot and stale, and sweat began to run down my face. There was nowhere to go and no where to rest. My knocking went from slight and polite, to pounding and constant. My voice grew louder as my frustration grew. “GUYS (pound, pound, pound!) WAKE UP, I AM TRAPPED!” After a long while of frustration I prayed, “Lord, a little help please.” Finally, after 30 minutes of banging and yelling I heard a faint, “come in.” Did my team member just say “come in?” In disbelief I yelled back, “I CAN’T COME IN, I’M LOCKED IN THE BATHROOM!!!!!” I heard movement finally, muffled laughter and questions. The laughter grew both on my side and theirs as they realized the situation. I heard the rustling outside of the door. Finally, my dear friend held up her cell phone to the quarter sized hole. I could see the light and knew that they were now fully awake and ready to help. They all admitted they had heard a faint knocking and had wished it would go away! After a short while I was rescued. Afterward we laughed until we cried!<br />
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<br />
The next morning we awoke to more laughter as we relived the crazy circumstances of the night before. Unexpectedly, the Lord spoke softly to my heart. He used the situation from the night before to impact my heart in a way nothing else could have done. As I mentioned before, I am resourceful, and I come from a family of resourceful people. A blessed life full of family, friends and love, never in want. Yes there were hard times but I never went to bed hungry, I was never held against my will and there were always resources available for me to reach my goals. The short time locked in that bathroom took me to a place of helplessness. I had no resources for the first time in my life. There was no way out. I could not rest on my own strength. Although I banged and yelled with all my might, no one could hear me. And when they finally heard a faint sound, they turned over hoping it would just go away. How many women trapped in the horror of human trafficking feel this way, not for 30 minutes, but constantly? How many people hear their faint cries and simply turn away or wish for someone else to take care of the problem. Helpless, hopeless and defeated for the first time I can ever remember. Help lie a mere 3 feet away in some wonderful Christian women. But they were asleep. Is the church asleep, are we unable or unwilling to hear the cries of these women. Like the sudden bright light shining through the quarter sized hole in the broken door, we can be that sign of hope for these women. When they see the light of Jesus in us they will know that help is on the way. In the form of a Jewish carpenter, who died to set them free? Not just spiritually, but physically from the chains of human trafficking.<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
<i>J - Volunteer Bangalore</i><br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-39438750896712505402012-10-25T09:23:00.002-04:002012-10-25T09:24:21.344-04:00Our Savior Loves To Laugh<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ou3Rz7putLI/UIk7nOfkSiI/AAAAAAAAAK4/s9Hgq2sUN98/s1600/Susanna+Bucci.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ou3Rz7putLI/UIk7nOfkSiI/AAAAAAAAAK4/s9Hgq2sUN98/s640/Susanna+Bucci.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rahab's Rope Volunteer - Goa, India</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Growing up, I never thought of God as being a particularly humorous person. Strong, loving, and protecting, yes. A penchant for comedy? Not so much. Recently, however, it was made quite clear that our Savior does indeed love to laugh, while blessing us in the process.<br />
<br />
Three of us work in a preschool during the morning, which takes two buses to get to. We had one day off due to a national holiday, which we used to get some much needed rest. Fully expecting school to be in session for the rest of the week, we got up, caught our buses, and greeted the children happily over the next two days. When Friday morning arrived, we got an unexpected surprise. As we were nearing our final stop, our team leader got a text from the school principal. Someone who had worked in government had passed away, therefore school was canceled. All we could do was smile and chuckle. The fact that school had been canceled was one thing - finding out 10 minutes before we got there was another.<br />
<br />
If this had happened in the States, I would have been annoyed. 'Why didn't I find out sooner? I have to spend another bus fare just to go back? I could have slept in!' Instead, I imagined God's expression, smiling and chuckling as He handed my team the unexpected blessing of 5 extra hours of rest. He indeed has a sense of humor, and now I know that sometimes, His answers to prayer come in the form of a laugh.<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
<i>SB - Goa Volunteer</i><br />
<br />
<br />Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-10246219831875921282012-10-10T08:00:00.000-04:002015-08-24T14:54:35.470-04:00Ministering In A Place Of Chaos And Beauty<br />
India is a place of contrast, chaos and contradiction. You don't have to be here long to see and understand it. Billboards of glamorous people and high rises stand over slums made from concrete, dirt and plastic siding. The people here are also a study in contrast, we have found beauty in an Aids clinic and also in the slums of Bangalore.<br />
<br />
In the mornings, five of the ladies on the team begin the day by serving at an Aids clinic, while two of us get the awesome privilege of tutoring/teaching two little girls who live at the clinic. The young girls are two of twenty-two children who live at the facility. The two young girls are orphans, like all the girls in the facility, both parents having died from aids. We are teaching them the alphabet, numbers and colors. We also sing with them, tell them stories and just generally love on them. They are two beautiful jewels.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rahab's Rope Volunteers - India</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<br />
In the evening, our team heads out to the slums to minister to young girls ages 12 to 16. You have never seen such beautiful smiles. Their smiles are such a contrast to the ugliness of the poverty that surrounds them. We tell stories from the Bible, sing worship songs, and help the girls with their English. They are so smart!<br />
<br />
Each one is learning at least two languages, math, science etc. What a blessing it is to hear their voices sing out songs to God, praises, and yet they live in a dark place filled with idolatry, superstition and a sense of hopelessness. There is so much pain here and yet we find ourselves singing and laughing... even dancing with these young girls. Wherever Jesus is, there is hope.<br />
<br />
Please pray for these young girls, that They would truly give their hearts to the one true living God who created them and loves them so much.<br />
<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
<i>Calvary Chapel East Anaheim Volunteers</i><br />
<br />Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-13051491976721637442012-10-09T08:52:00.000-04:002015-08-24T14:54:53.800-04:00Quilt Making Class<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yGkgDyN2V_k/UHQdeBnzMVI/AAAAAAAAAKM/v9wRipjlrxQ/s1600/volunteer.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yGkgDyN2V_k/UHQdeBnzMVI/AAAAAAAAAKM/v9wRipjlrxQ/s320/volunteer.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rahab's Rope Volunteers Teach Quilt Making</td></tr>
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Today is one more day to take the opportunity to empty ourselves and to look to the One that gave it all for us, our Lord Jesus.<br />
<br />
In the morning we went to the slums to work with the ladies. We are teaching them how to make quilts. As I'm writing this, I see their faces and see how happy and ready to learn they are. They are excited to learn how to cut an even square of fabric and how to sew a straight line. We want to teach them how to do excellent work so they can have a finished product that can be sold.<br />
<br />
Along with sewing class, we sing with the girls, pray for them, and tell them stories from the Bible. Today we told them about the women who touch Jesus garment. We are praying every day that the Holy Spirit would reveal to them who Jesus is. That they would know that He is not another god but the Savior.<br />
<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
<i>Calvary Chapel East Anaheim Volunteers</i><br />
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Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-90776254559103362372012-09-29T08:00:00.000-04:002015-08-24T14:55:13.258-04:00Jesus Loves The Children<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jesus Loves The Children</td></tr>
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Today, we started our day with an inspiring devotion from one of our team members. The devotion was about prayer and allowing the Lord to guide us and be willing to go where He leads us. We split into two groups again and headed off to the Aids home. There I worked with another girl from our group and we did the laundry. It really makes you appreciate the luxury of a washer and dryer back home. I won't ever be able to look at laundry the same again. The worker from the Aids home who taught us their way of doing laundry worked there for 10 years. He is 27 and works harder than most people I know. Not only does he work all day at the Christian Aids home but then has to care for his father once he gets home. You can truly feel the Lord's presence on the grounds of this facility. I am so blessed to be here in India and be able to work with so many Godly people.<br />
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After lunch we went to teach the children in the slums. This is my favorite part of the day. To be around these beautiful little girls is beyond words. We taught them the 12 spies who went to Canaan song and they sang us a few songs. My girls read some passages from one of their school books in english. Then they asked me to tell them words out of the text so they can practice spelling them. They are so eager to learn and already so smart! They taught me "Ya Pier Lexi" means my name is Lexi in Tamil. They also taught me "Yun Pier Yenna" which means what is your name and a few other phrases. They have the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. They all hugged and kissed me and kept asking me to come back tomorrow. As I left the building tonight, a woman in the street grabbed my hand, placed it on her head, and motioned me to pray for her. She did not speak much english. For anyone who is close to me you know I have a strange fear of praying out loud in front of people. This was a huge moment for me because the Lord chose me out of the whole team to pray with this woman, so of course I did. It was such a beautiful moment I will never forget.<br />
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The whole team was invited to a home cooked Indian meal by a local family. The food was delicious and the fellowship was incredible! I miss home and my family but I am loving and enjoying India, my team, and the new friends we've made. International Pastor, George Foster said "God never intended for us to be mere recipients of His love; He calls us to share it with others. We are not to be reservoirs, but channels by which His love can reach the world. When He pours out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, He wants us to leak like sieve...the whole point of being blessed is to pass the blessing to others"<br />
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Blessings,<br />
<i>Calvary Chapel East Anaheim Volunteers</i><br />
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Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-65761518637891459472012-09-28T12:50:00.000-04:002015-08-24T14:55:33.693-04:00The Amazing Rat RaceI'm not quite sure how to start this blog, there's been a lot of opinion regarding what I should post about our last couple of days. For the sake of "drawing in my audience", I will tell you all about my early morning with a new friend..<br />
He doesn't have a name yet, but he's already famous around here.<br />
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Last night I claimed the couch here in the guest house (it's pretty snuggly), and at about 2:30am I was bit on the toe by a rat; no real problem, no rabies, not a lot of blood but he got away. He's going' down, though.<br />
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Once we got our day started we were told we would be splitting up to go to two different areas so that we could be most effective. My team went to the hospice care facility that takes in HIV/aids patients and to the slums to work with the young girls.<br />
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I was not quite prepared for what I saw at either place but today was a orientation day and tomorrow we will be starting the real service work. I won't go into too much detail but it was totally incredible to see the hearts of not only the people at the facility but mostly those running the programs. The young girls were so sweet and excited that we were there to just love on them.<br />
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We can't wait to really get involved and build these relationships and also just be a servant anywhere we can be helpful.<br />
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It's truly amazing what the Lord is doing here in Bangalore let alone the entire country through the amazing people who pour so much into this ministry.<br />
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Can't wait to share with you all when we get home!!<br />
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Blessings,<br />
<i>Calvary Chapel East Anaheim Volunteers</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rahab's Rope 2012 Volunteers</td></tr>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica, serif; font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 26.393938064575195px;"><span style="color: white;">Check Out Videos From Our 2011 Trip: </span></b><b style="color: #666666; font-family: Helvetica, serif; font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 26.393938064575195px;"></b></div>
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Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-88663127737396541382012-09-20T10:50:00.001-04:002012-09-20T11:04:53.013-04:00Human Trafficking LessonToday we went through a 2 1/2 detailed lesson on Human Trafficking. It was educational, disturbing and heart breaking all at the same time. It made us realize how much we need to pray for these men and women all over the world who are involved.<br />
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Later in the day we sorted the nine suitcases of donations including healthcare products, school supplies and items for girls. Thank you to everyone who donated items. The people here could not believe the amount of things we brought.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rahab's Rope Volunteers</td></tr>
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We were blessed to have an Indian women cook us dinner. She made butter chicken and homemade Indian tortillas. It was terrific!<br />
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God has blessed this team with several skills and abilities that we will be using this week at our teaching locations. We are preparing to help at a sewing center and in the slums, teaching English and telling Bible stories.<br />
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We really appreciate all your prayers and words of encouragement.<br />
<br />Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-78799119211247955602012-09-14T10:00:00.000-04:002015-08-24T14:56:05.561-04:00Calvary Chapel East Anaheim Volunteers<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Helvetica, serif; font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 26.393938064575195px;">Exciting News! Nine ladies from Calvary Chapel East Anaheim have joined Rahab's Rope in Bangalore, India. We are excited to welcome them! They will be a wonderful blessing to our staff and teams already working in India. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Helvetica, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 26.393938064575195px;">Follow the Rahab's Rope Volunteer Blog for updates and stories from Calvary Chapel East Anaheim ladies. Feel free to comment and leave kind thoughts. The staff and volunteers at Rahab's Rope love hearing encouraging words.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rahab's Rope 2012 Volunteers</td></tr>
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<br />Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8550123529925663228.post-41982066586237771682012-09-13T09:20:00.000-04:002012-09-13T09:20:00.405-04:0038 Year Old Indian Woman Celebrates First Birthday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<span style="text-indent: 48px;">We have celebrated two birthdays while I have been here in India, one today and one at the end of last week.</span><span style="text-indent: 48px;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 48px;">For each, we bought a cake.</span><span style="text-indent: 48px;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 48px;">Last week we celebrated the birthday of a beautiful widowed friend.</span><span style="text-indent: 48px;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 48px;">We brought her a cake and sang “Happy Birthday” to her and all the while she said, “Why waste your money on me?”</span><span style="text-indent: 48px;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 48px;">We explained to her (several times) that we weren’t wasting money. Because she is special according to God she is not a waste of money, time, or life.</span><span style="text-indent: 48px;"> She is a precious individual and worth celebrating. </span><span style="text-indent: 48px;">She denied it. She denied her worthiness multiples times throughout her birthday celebration. As we walked out of her home, at the close of the celebration, she denied her worth a final time. </span><span style="text-indent: 48px;">She denied that she was beautiful, which we reassured her with our love that her beauty ran deep, inside and out. </span><br />
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<span style="text-indent: 48px;">The cake we brought her was her first birthday cake ever.</span><span style="text-indent: 48px;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 48px;">She was 38 years old.</span><br />
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<span style="text-indent: 48px;">Blessings,</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: 48px;"><i>MW - Summer 2012 Volunteer</i></span><br />
<span style="text-indent: 48px;"><br /></span>Rahabs Ropehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01957236256034404916noreply@blogger.com0