the f-word

No, not that f-word.  Get your mind out of the gutter, people.  I’m talking about FUTURE.  Yes, that f-word, largely unspoken for fear of causing mass panic among the interns.  But really, for a month now it’s been a hot topic of conversation.  What are you doing after the internship?  Do you have any plans?

A few weeks ago my parents came to visit me in D.C. and we spent Sunday afternoon sitting in my favorite little hip D.C. coffee shop—shout out for Tryst—and I just started spewing my ideas/stress/anxiety/trust/desires.  Being the great parents that they are—shout out for my parents—they listened, letting me verbally process these thoughts and emotions I hadn’t allowed myself to truly feel.  Sharing my newly discovered love for D.C., my hopes of finding a job here that could combine my passions and strengths, all while acknowledging how terrifying these hopes actually are, how much I would still miss Seattle if I settled here.

And then came the wise words of Paul Gossman: “You have a great safety net; step out on the tightrope.”

My dad loves metaphors.  Loves ‘em.

So does Mat Kearney, in case you were wondering:  “Baby it’s like we’re walking on a wire through the fear / take my hand, we’ll get there / sooner or later, I swear, we’re gonna make it, gonna make it / the fear inside, the hills we’ve climbed / the tears this side of heaven / all these dreams inside of me / I swear we’re gonna get there / sooner or later, we’re gonna make it.” (Sooner or Later, Mat Kearney)

I trust that God has a plan for my life, a plan for what happens next.  I’ve spent months reciting that motto.  Doing my best to live by it.  If I’m honest with myself, though, I’ll admit that this is a lot easier to say (especially when faced with the question “what are you doing next?”) than it is to believe wholeheartedly.  I was blessed with a conversation last week that helped bring things into focus.  A very wise woman in my life helped draw the important distinction between trusting in God’s plan/trusting He has a plan, and trusting God.  We are not called to trust God’s plans, but to trust Him, to lay everything at His feet in total surrender to His will.  To step out onto the tightrope not trusting in the rope itself, but trusting in the One who made the rope, who made me, and who provides the safety net below.  When has He failed me?  Never. 

And so I’m stepping out.  Out onto the tightrope.  I don’t yet have a solid answer to the question “what plans do you have?” but I will in due time.  Most importantly, He already knows my future, where I’ll be and how I’ll get there.  There’s no need to block this f-word from my vocabulary.  I can smile at the future (Proverbs 31:25).

history in the making

I am a modern day abolitionist. 

About a week and a half ago myself and a few of the other interns participated in the DC STOP MODERN SLAVERY WALK, held on the Mall [for those of you who don’t know DC this is not a place to shop, but rather where all the monuments are – Capitol Building on one end, Washington Monument in the center, and Lincoln Memorial at the other end].  Not only did we walk in the not-so-much-a-protest-but-more-an-awareness-raising-event, but IJM also had a table at the Resources Fair that we the interns got to staff.

The morning started out entirely too early—no coffee and very little sleep the night before—which wasn’t looking like a good combination for anyone involved.  Despite my strong dislike of mornings and perhaps due instead to my nap on the metro [which was, unfortunately, documented], Kathryn and I made it down to the walk where we met up with the other interns participating and my friend from Wheaton, Elizabeth.  A lot of logistical things happened at this point [cue cutting to the chase because that part is boring] and soon we were off. 

A group of a thousand at least [have you ever noticed I’m horrible at approximating numbers of people?], all wearing bright red shirts starting walking the path set for us. 

First stop – the Lincoln Memorial.  What an incredible experience.  I kept looking around and saying, “guys, do you realize where we are?!”  The Lincoln Memorial is definitely my favorite.  Something about it is so stoic, and yet so accessible at the same time.  I love Lincoln; he was my favorite president in late elementary school when I went through my “read everything about the Civil War phase.”  I still think he’s pretty great.  Mainly because of what he stood for.  The Emancipation Proclamation.  Unity.  Human Rights.  And here we were, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the very steps where speeches like Martin Luther King Jr’s “I Have a Dream” were made…modern day abolitionists. 

Appropriately so, the next part of the walk took us right by the newly opened Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial.  Can you say powerful?!  At its core, modern day slavery is really about violent oppression and injustice.  Whether that’s forcing people with different skin color to drink from separate drinking fountains or forcing a little girl into prostitution, they’re the same – oppression, injustice.  We’ve come a long way since MLK’s dreams, and much of what he dreamed has come true.  But there are still millions of people in this world judged by their skin color, their gender, their economic status, their birth order.  And we will not step aside and watch it happen.

We made our way around and back to the starting point having passed the Roosevelt and Jefferson monuments on the way.  When we arrived back to the Resource Fair people were swarming the IJM table—asking questions, signing petitions, and picking up brochures.  We’d tell IJM’s story and our own story to one person only to turn around a minute later and give it again.  But it was so encouraging!  Hundreds of people signed the petition to move the TVPRA forward in Congress.  The same amount or more picked up flyers, asked about casework, internships and our mission.  We were privileged to be part of that moment for a few when suddenly everything clicked.  I mean, they obviously knew about modern day slavery because they were at this walk.  But suddenly they got why it mattered, why God cares, why IJM is fighting the way they are.

As things began to wrap up at the Resource Fair, the emcee took the stage, thanked everyone for walking and introduced…TIM BE TOLD!  [See my previous post if you have no idea why this is so incredibly exciting].  As I wrote previously, their song “Just Another Man” haunted me for days.  Well, to hear the lead singer share about the process of writing that song and then to sing it on that stage in the shadow of the Washington Monument, with hundreds of abolitionists listening…that was deeply moving.

That day I was a true modern day abolitionist, an activist in the best sense of the word.  I walked where history has been made.  But more importantly, I was part of history in the making.

be still.

| I’m full of thoughts tonight.  These thoughts…will they make sense on paper?  Will these thoughts of my heart even translate to the page?  These questions, convictions, comfort?  It is in writing that I connect the dots in my own head.

But I’m afraid to share it with you.  Afraid that to you it will all seem like mere ramblings.  That it will seem purely tangential.  And yet, here I sit.  Alone in my room—the peace and calm my soul so desires.  Thinking, processing, contemplating, and hopefully sharing with some semblance of coherency.

| We start every work day at IJM with 30 minutes of “Stillness.”  Time to sit before the Throne of God; to pray, journal, meditate, commune with our Maker.  I have grown to so appreciate these times with my Savior.  Sitting in one of the conference rooms in the office, looking out the window at I-395 and the Pentagon just beyond it—Mt. Pentagon, as my friend Jocelyn calls it to help me feel more at home. :] This stillness time is an invitation to communication with God, who is always present despite my distracted heart and my short attention span.  I think and write a lot about darkness in the world and how His light shines into and through these places.  But there is darkness in my own heart, too.  I am a sinner, imperfect, weak, and easily distracted.  In order to be filled more fully with His light, I must confront my own darkness.

“Yes, I know You are great
That You’re a good God, and You are love
How much more will it take to undo the damage that I have done?
Please conquer these demons and the darkness inside
Shine Your light on this poor heart of mine.” (Tim Be Told, “Lament”)

 

| Yesterday brought with it torrential downpours.  The entire day, really, I felt like I was in a typhoon – sitting at my desk watching the world of dark skies and rainfall outside my window.  All day except for one moment, early in the morning during stillness, when the skies opened up briefly and the most glorious rainbow filled the sky.  A powerful reminder that He invites me to “be still and know” that He is God (Psalm 46:10).  Be still.  Or, as some translations write it, cease striving.  The last two days were full of busy work projects as well as some personal things to sort through and yet…God continued to bring that rainbow to mind, reminding me to cease striving, because He has already saved me, He has already brought light into my personal sinful darkness.  I am a sinner saved by His grace and for that I am eternally grateful.

“For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.  Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.  Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” (Ephesians 5:9-11)

 

| I heard a song yesterday that grabbed me…haunts me, really.  I’m including the lyrics and a link to the song on YouTube.  I strongly encourage you to listen to it, soak it in, and be moved to a greater understanding of the darkness in this world that breaks God’s heart, and should break our own as well.

“Just Another Man” by Tim Be Told — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8b9pEIYlAA&feature=related

“She’s only twelve and sells for thirty dollars
And that man is old enough to be her father
He holds her down while darkness takes her over
And he steals her soul
On a concrete floor she lays her head
She doesn’t dream ’cause she’s already dead
While the queens and kings in their feather beds sleep so soundly
All the world’s a hole and I am falling
Too deaf to hear her calling
I wish that I could set her free but I’m just another man
There’s nothing I can do
He’s only five; A child and a soldier
They will make him kill his people when he’s older
And late at night he calls out for his mother
But he took her life
He’s pretending to be brave instead
But his family’s already dead
I cover up my ears and I turn my head
While he screams so loudly
My heart is open but my hands are hiding
Afraid I’ll feel you dying
I wish that I could touch your soul but I’m just another man
There’s nothing I can do
Father, hear our broken cries from a world so fallen!
Help us see that in one Man our hope will never die
And His people call Him Savior Jesus, Love Abounding
Give me strength to do all that I can
I am not just another man.”

 

There is so much darkness—in this world but also in my own heart.  The first verse of the song says that “darkness takes her over.”  The singer struggles throughout the song with his own darkness—fear, resignation, hopelessness.  But in the end, it is our Savior that overcomes the darkness, a “hope (that) will never die.”  I can’t shake this song.  I can’t shake its message.  I can’t shake these stories and the thousands like them.  I can’t shake my memories from Manila.  And in that, I must cease striving and know that He is God.

 

Fun with Co-Workers: 101

Exhibit A: Wear matching “Women in Black” outfits and spontaneously break out in rap.

Exhibit B: Hit up “Wok and Roll” for Sushi & Bubble Tea happy hour with the ladies.

Exhibit C: Have a pink gorilla greet you on your birthday, also—wear a tiara during an office tour.

Exhibit D: Check out Busboys and Poets on U-Street and feel super hipster.

Exhibit E: Go on a River Cruise on the “beautiful” Potomac—fully of relaxation and…competition. :]

Exhibit F: TAEHEE LEE. That is all I need to say.

growing lotus

“The lotus is me.  A lotus grows from the mud just like my life since I came to the shelter.  I am like a growing lotus.  I can be beautiful now although I came from a muddy, bad situation.  I want to have a family when I grow up.  But I am worried that the lotus will die if the same thing happens again; I am afraid of losing love from others, and from my friends.”

The above quote was taken from a study done in Cambodia on the reintegration of trafficking victims.  A topic I’ve been reading a lot about lately, reintegration research is the focus of one of my projects in the Aftercare Department here at IJM.  There’s actually remarkably little literature or studies done on the topic, but what I’ve found so far is both saddening and interesting.  I’m sure I’ll write more about this as I get deeper into this project.  For now, though, I want to focus on this quote—a story that I found myself gravitating towards as I read through the study.

“…I am like a growing lotus. I can be beautiful now although I came from a muddy, bad situation.”

In many cultures, the lotus flower is a symbol of purity and rebirth.  I’ve even heard it called the perfect analogy for the human condition because even when the lotus flower’s roots are in the dirtiest waters, it still produces a beautiful flower.

Redemption.  In my view, reintegration is supposed to be about redemption.  Leaving the past in the past, moving towards healing.  Ideally, reintegration can happen in connection with family, with community.  Sadly, this is not always the case.  Actually, it’s a lot harder than you might think.  Societal stigmas, domestic abuse, financial problems, familial expectations…these can all detract from the hope of redemption making reintegration a challenge.  No matter how much healing a trafficking survivor has found, if her society or her family rejects her…  The “lotus” in our story recognizes that; she holds concerns for her future and her relationships closely. 

As much as I’m reading about how difficult reintegration is, about the many factors making it challenging, I still have to believe in redemption.  It is possible.  The lotus can grow from mud, but it’s up to us to water it, nurturing it and helping it grow, caring enough to make reintegration possible by building up communities that can openly accept survivors back into their midst, educating families on the unique needs their daughters now have, and encouraging women in their journey of transformational healing. 

More on these thoughts to come in the weeks ahead…

As an end note, the symbolism of the flower reminded me of a music video I saw a few years ago and have loved ever since, although it hits closer to home since my time in Manila because the girl in the movie is Filipina.  I think it’ll hit pretty close to home for a lot of people, though, because it ties human trafficking—which is so easily thought of as “out there”—with pornography—something, if we’re honest with ourselves, which hits even closer to home.  I should warn you, though, it’s not an easy watch.

 

a-b-c, as easy as 1-2-3

Today, I learned how to walk backwards in heels.

Really.

I know, those of you who know me well are in shock.  This is seriously a huge accomplishment for me!  Three-ish weeks into my internship at IJM and what have I learned?  More than just the art of walking in heels:

• How to iron clothes without burning myself.
• How to drink strong coffee.
• How to tuck my shirt in all day and not feel uber uncomfortable about it.
• How the most miniscule details matter when revising a global aftercare policy, making it worth reading the same paragraph over and over and over again.
• How daunting the task of reintegration is—how does a victim of abuse someday return to her community?  To live a normal life?
• How complex the issue of repatriation is; each country having its own laws and regulations governing trafficking victims versus illegal/legal migrant workers.
• That sundried tomato & basil wheat thins with cream cheese are delectable. (And now I’ve learned that I just ate way too many).
• That Kathryn and I are made for each other because we’re both happy not to talk in the mornings.
• That I love buying each week’s produce on Sunday afternoons at Eastern Market.
• That God is a God of mountaintops, valleys, and plateaus–meeting me wherever I am.
• That I am not a statistic, and although they had an important role to play in my life, my story is my own. (Thank you Jolleen for that.)
• That I am not Santa Claus, I am only an elf.

Excited to see what comes next. 

 

ray of Hope

I hope you watch this recent video from IJM, a true and powerful story of despair transformed into HOPE.

 

For more IJM videos, check out their YouTube channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/intljusticemission

I Believe, help my unbelief.

Do you really believe that the Words of Jesus are true?

This question is foundational to the work of IJM.  The mission of IJM is to address the problems of violent injustice, abuse and oppression in the world.  Intentional abuse of power.  One human against another. 

Not exactly lighthearted stuff here.

I spent all of last week in what IJM calls “Training Week,” a time for new staff, interns, and fellows (both for HQ in DC and those deploying overseas) to come together and delve into the foundations, principles, and goals of IJM as a whole.  What a tremendous week!  Each day held different sessions ranging from staff care to administrative practices and case studies to departmental briefings.  It was great to get to know my DC colleagues, in addition to international interns and fellows.  I feel truly blessed to have been given this deeper understanding of the core values of IJM, as well as the spiritual foundations behind them.

Which takes me back to my original question—do you really believe that the Words of Jesus are true?  What does it look like to be released from fear, acting as if you believe that His promises are true?

Luke 4:16-21 (read Isaiah 61 for a fuller picture of the passage Jesus is reading from)

He (Jesus) went to Nazareth, where He had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day He went into the synagogue, as was His custom.  He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to Him.  Unrolling it, He found the place where it is written: “The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.  He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor.”  Then He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down.  The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened to Him.  He began by saying to them, “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

 

We serve a God of justice.  A God who cares for the poor and needy, the marginalized and the oppressed.  If we really believe that these Words of Jesus are true, belief will turn into action, and (by God’s grace) action will begin to see results.

That’s what IJM is all about.

rays of Light

This summer I made my second summit climb of Mt. Rainier in my home state of Washington.  After attempting a few short hours of sleep at base camp, our team of five started out climbing in the middle of the night.  This particular July night was clear; we were surrounded by stars and the moon shone down brightly on the snowy trail ahead.  Still, though, our beaming headlamps were an absolute necessity.  For a good portion of our climb up to the summit, the chorus of a Jars of Clay song repeated in my head…

I know who I am

Once I was nameless, alone and You found me

You formed my knees to bend

You called me beloved

I am perfection

All my failures won’t condemn me

Or leave me paralyzed and bound

And when I’m at my worst

Your love, it finds me first

By You I can run in the night

For by You I can run in the night

…

When evil sets the war upon me

I won’t stumble, I won’t fall

And though they do their worst

Your love has found me first

For by You I can run in the night

Hide me in the shelter of…

Keep me in the cover of…

Lead me in the Light of Your love

Hide me in the Light of Your love

For by You I can run in the night

[Run in the Night (Psalm 27)]

 

“For by You I can run in the night.”  By You.  It is only by God’s power this mountain exists; only by His strength can I reach the crater rim.  In all walks of life, I must be lead by the Light of His love.

__________________________________________________________________

I absolutely love sunsets.  They remind me of God’s eternal nature.  The oranges, reds, and yellows all blend together on the horizon to stir in me a deep appreciation for Creation, for Light.  One of my favorite adventures to do with my Dad is hike a mountain to watch the sunset, coming back down in the dark with our headlamps lighting the trail.  Running up the mountain to catch the sunset.  Chasing the light.

Last September, about this time of September, I went to my first strip club.  I know, you’re probably wondering, what?!?!  I’ll add that I was living in the Philippines working with a ministry doing outreach to women caught in prostitution.  (to read more about my journey in Manila, go here: http://www.hngr2010.com/interns/sarah-gossman/).  In the days after that experience, I was really struggling to find Light.  The darkness in the club had been so palpable.  Even though I was physically in the light, my emotions didn’t sense the change.  I was reminded of the words of 2 Corinthians 4:6 which says: “For God, who said ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made His light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.”  We carry around the death of Christ, yes, but also the life of Christ, His resurrection.  Light and darkness.  Life, it seems, is about chasing the Light.  Not some vague, obscure, artificial source of light, but THE source of Light, the only True Light.  Eternal Light.  Sunsets.

________________________________________________________________

I’m beginning to sense that much of my life will be about chasing the Light.  God has called me into a field with potentially very emotionally draining subject matter.  Every day I’ll deal with stories of abuse.  Trauma.  Oppression.  Injustice.  But I’ll only hear stories.  If I can’t find Light in darkness, how can I expect to lead these victims towards the Light?

Chase the Light.  Into the unknown.  Into the known.  Into the darkness.  Find joy, find Light.  God promises it’s—HE’S—there.  Isaiah 42:16 says, “I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth.”

This blog is a place for me to do just that, to chase the Light.  To seek after Him through writing, inviting you along on this journey.  I don’t know where all it will lead me.  For now, I’m living and working in Washington, D.C. interning at International Justice Mission (see the ‘About Me’ section at the top of this blog for more info).  In 3 months time, only God knows, and I’m ok with that.

My only hope is to share stories and lessons learned along this journey, and that through these you’re able to see a bit more of Him, more of the Light in the darkness.  Chasing the Light.