We are projecting Mag 2010. It seems a bit overwhelming. If you look at the sex trade as a whole it is crushing. There are layers upon layers to peel back. Guatemala is such a huge starting point. To narrow done our step by step is difficult. There is no fast forward button. No quick way to rescue all the girls from the evil reality that each day for them is grueling. Each day they are bought and sold, bought and sold, purchased, used and brought back for re-sale. There is no end in sight. No light at the end of the tunnel. We must be that light. I am all too aware of the urgency. The faces flood my soul. My mind easily able to relive the horrific stories we heard.
God has given us a vision that seems unbearable. It is daunting. I have heard that God will not give you more than you can bear. This is a lie. We can not possibly bear this burden solo. Without the reality of who He is there is no point of even attempting to try. I am humbled by my incapability and His complete capability through my obedience. I am thankful to be a part of something bigger than myself. Bigger than my realm of comprehension. I am humbled by the opportunity to extend His perfect hope to a level of darkness unrivaled by anything I have seen. I desire to love unabashedly, and to live unselfishly. To challenge the normal and mundane to live for radical change.
To Restore Innocence to the Broken

Reflection

It has been almost 5 months since we have returned from Guatemala. The girls we interviewed haunt my dreams…..but then life runs like a film, day in and day out. We are not affected here by the devastation that occurs there. We can live comfortably daily and get lost in self….get lost in the season. Each day we do the routine. Whether its family, college, work…its all routine, all the day to day, each routine moment. I believe in the moment, don’t get me wrong, but we forget that the moments here parallel with the horrific truth that the moments these girls experience must seem eternal.
I look at my children as they play, laughing safely. I again am flooded by overwhelming gratitude. I think back to a conversation that I have had several times….why were we chosen to live here? The answer resounds in my soul. We have the ability to perpetuate change. To rescue. To not live our moments in the naïve denial of the reality of our fallen humanity. We have a mandate. We have a call. To bring hope to the hopeless. To be a voice for the voiceless. To reach beyond ourselves.
To Restore Innocence to the Broken

With no Words....

how do you describe evil? i have no real words for it....can you encapsulate it? is it something you can see that is tangible? how do you describe a spirit of evil that spreads depravity over a people group like a thick layer of smoke?

as i stepped off the plane in Guatemala i felt the presence of evil. it was almost tangible, similar to the feeling of humidity in the air. a sucking sensation that teeters on the brink of something that threatens your core.....many times throughout our trip the same sensation swept over me... the apathy for the same, the unapologetic ways that have always been....the line blurred by depravity. the fall of man played out in a society riddled with blatant lawlessness. i look around at the people and wonder at what point does depravity become your clothing? your garment worn like a shield to combat the truth...

i saw people who had their innocence stolen from them, not once but over and over...

i saw a society that had no regulations, no rules that were followed, no measure for morality....

i saw a pit that satan has had dominion over......

but then,

i see a hope shining through like a burst of light from our Creator

a love that is unexplainable, a regeneration of His likeness that is unimaginable...

a beauty from ashes

a restoration of innocence to brokenness

a call to wake a sleeping people and respond like never before...

Garment of Praise

I can't believe it is time to leave. This week has been so emotionally riveting for all of us. In the midst though it has been amazing how God works. Obviously the crushing pain I felt for the people had to subside in order to function, I had to be able to breathe and refocus... This is what God knew... I was reading and listening to music, and something flooded over me... the garment of praise in my heaviness.. incredible. How can this happen? How can I be at peace? I have seen things that will forever be etched in my mind, I have been broken for a people that I had never met, I had seen depravity defined only by satan himself I had looked into the eyes of desperation that convulsed my soul new scars..... and then again I realize the call, Be a voice for the voiceless, take care of the oppressed, seek justice...

Restore innocence to the broken...

Here I am Lord, send me

In Him,
Kris

Do they Know?

i step into this church almost in a surreal state. we walk up flights of winding stairs with wooden banisters, the chandeliers are massivce and beautiful. i hear the excited chatter mounting..then we step to the final platform to 75 to 100 college kids. all dressed to the max. they all looked as if they could have been on any cover of any fashion magazine...all hanging out and catching up with their friends. i imagine very much like we do at home. the church you can see right off is different then others here. new and cutting edge, much like the trendy churches in america. instantly i am in a parrallel world. we enter the area of worship and the place fills with young adults...all looking vogue, probably close to 500 end up pouring in. again i am in a state of unbelief. i am struck by the unbelievable contrast. one city yet so different. i can't help but wonder why, or maybe better how could they not know? do they know? as the worship begins i see hands lifted high worshiping...again i think, how can this culture be this way? do they understand what is happening a few blocks away? Have they seen how others in this city live? my judgement rises....how can they allow this to happen and go on about their perfect rich lives while women and children are being tortured and are dying..........my heart turned cold at the reality....why were we here? i wanted to scream at one point, scream do you realize!?!?!! and then i was flooded with a still voice that said remember how I see the earth I created...these are my children as well, you are here to show them. my mind began to real with the possibility. what if this young generation stopped the violence...what if they caught the vision? what if we all caught that vision...God's vision? It dawned on me that we are no different then these people. we sit in our comfortable lives while devestation happens all over..why do i look at it here with such indignation for what hasn't been done in reality what are we all doing to fullfill our mandate. Our call is not an option, how have we made it one? we are all called to help the oppressed period. we are all supposed to fullfill this call. if we do then Gods love can be made real..it was worth Him sending Jesus to die........how much is it worth to you?
In Him,
Kris

All for Redemption

I haven't really written or journeled much since we have been here. It takes me a while to process things. Most times I have found I won't start to truly process until I get back to the states. I don't know why- maybe it's my way of emotionally detaching so I can continue doing the work that needs to be done here, or maybe there is just not enough time for me to process one tragedy before I am slammed with another. Whatever the reason, I sit here thinking about day 1- and a girl who stole my heart.

Her name is Maria- she is 20 years old... my age. Our first interview. I rememberher first walking in and sitting on the couch- arms crossed... dressed in all black... and I wondered if that was a depiction of how her heart felt. Before she even spoke I could look in her eyes and see something was wrong- something had been taken from her, hurt her deeply. And I instantly wanted to save her. As we set up the camera and she began to tell her story, I am completely certain there is no way that I could have imagined something so horrific. My age... it kept flashing through my mind... my age. This girl was just like me, at the same point in life I find myself at- yet we could not have been more world's apart. As I watched her sit there, sobbing, pouring out 20 years of heartache, my own heart was shattered. It is rare, if ever, that I feel so much love for someone so instantly- without even knowing them. But in that moment I would have given anything to take her pain for her. I would have given all I had to protect her and show her she is loved, and make sure she never has to go there again- cost is no object. Rape. Abuse. Rejection. Property rather than a part of humanity. Suicide attempts. Hearing a mother tell you to try and kill yourself better next time because you would be doing a favor to society. I can't imagine being a mother and saying that to your child. Bought. Sold. Bought again. What part of your soul dies every single time... And again it flashes. My age...

I don't understand how these things can go on. But in the midst of hearing such horror, I also saw strength. This girl was a fighter- she won't ever give up. That gives me hope. Each part of this girl's story felt like a blow to my chest... my with every single one, all I could hear was Jesus saying "But my love is stronger..." And even in the midst of such depravity, I know it's true. His love is stronger than rape, abuse, rejection, all of it. And so in the midst of it all, I still see that He is good. His love is strong enough to heal anyone and everyone. It makes all things new, covers all, even this.

As much as it hurts to hear a story like Maria's, I also consider it such a gift. It confirms my calling. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am called to fight for these girls every day for the rest of my life. And I will. It's a fire deep in my soul to see them free. It's such a girft to me to be able to be cut by something that matters. Because those cuts turn to scars that remind you of the grace of God, what He feels, and what He sees when He looks at us. I wonder if what I feel for Maria is a small taste of the deep, unfathomable, relentless love that Jesus has for us. We are broken, slaves to the fall, drenched in our sin sith seemingly no hope. But when God sees our helpless state, He takes it for us. I only wish I could take Maria's pain for her. But Christ actually does- for you, for me, for us all. That's beautiful. Redemption is beautiful. And that is what I cling to.

"For the glory of it all, He came here. For the rescue of us all, that we may live. For the glory of it all. For redemption from the fall. For the glory of it all..." -David Crowder

Grace,
Ashley

Open My Eyes to Things Unseen

The dichotomy of this city riddles me. As we are driving to film some of the most impoverished parts of the city I am struck by all of the people busily going about their day, seemingly unaware of what is around them. These people seem much like us in the states- nicely dressed, clean, hustling in and out of stores... then we turn down a street. I think I literally sucked in air.. we were going to one of the places in the city called the garbage dumps. Looking ahead, I see houses and houses and houses made out of tin, stacked on top of each other. The stench of trash and rotting waste fills our nostrils. We park. My soul is screaming at this point- I look around at the people cluttered everywhere and as my feet hit the pavement littered with trash, this strange sensation came over me. I felt almost like an intruder. Like here I am, my nice jeans, my nice shirt, my nice jacket, and I want to see how they live. I almost felt dirty. Like who am I. The entire team began to look around and explore. I stood almost frozen. I had never seen anything even remotely comparable to this. The feeling of nausea came from the pit of my being- not because of the poverty, more so because of the vulnerability. There were children everywhere, no shoes, and again I was easily able to insert one of my children at any moment. They smiled grinning behind rotten teeth almost begging for our attention. I was still frozen. The people that we came with were obviously very comfortable there- they laughed and joked amongst each other and to some of the men that lived there. It all sounded like buzzing to me. The sounds were drowned out by the screaming in my head. Why do these children have to live in these conditions? Again, not because they have nothing but because I felt the presence of darkness so thick. Maybe it's because I had heard the stories previously of how children are stolen everywhere in this country. These children seem like sitting targets to me. I wanted to load them all up in the van and take them to a safe place. But where? There is no place safe here. That hits me like a ton of bricks. Even if I could get every child out of this situation, then what? I wanted to run- again the burden of what God has given MAG to do rushed over me. In my desperation He spoke. Break my heart for what breaks yours, I had prayed. Open my eyes to things unseen. Show me how to love like you. This is what I had begged. And this is what He has begun to do.

In Him,
Kris