Are you ready for some more unrefined honesty? This week I hit a rough spot. I'm talking, bottom of a treacherous hole and no visible way out. I don't remember the last time I felt so trapped...so useless. In fact, this may have been a first. At least to this extreme.

Sometimes (okay...ALL of the time), I want to be out there-changing the world. I want to be holding orphans, cleaning wounds, calling people into greatness, digging ditches, riding 57 hour African buses, and living without electricity. I want to bring clean water, remove open sewage systems and educate about human trafficking and basic community health practices. I want to bring the real hope and deep love of my Jesus. I want to be on the front lines.

Currently six of the all-women teams are working directly with sex-tourism throughout Thailand. The average age of the girls in these brothels continues to drop-in 2003 it was hovering at 13 years. Four years later, girls were being sold as young as three.

I have received stories from the teams that have literally stopped me in my tracks these past few days. Stories of street boys being transformed into women against their will so that they could be sold for sex. Stories of a family being so desperate for money that they sold their two-year-old daughter for cash. Stories that are real and messy and happening right now.

 

One of the teams came upon this situation as they were walking down a street within the red-light district. They encountered an older man on a motorcycle stroking the hair of an eight or nine year old girl. He was smiling at her and reinforcing that it would stop hurting soon. He encouraged her in the job she had done and told her the first time is always the hardest. The girl's pimp laughed alongside him as the little girl stood there-crying.

Part of our Texas team; my co-leaders at 7am after 4 hours of sleep.

If I were to be completely transparent with you, I would have to admit that this week has been nothing like what I had anticipated. Absolutely. Positively. 100%. Different.

I went on youth groups trips when I was in high school and I loved them. When I was seventeen I went on my first project to a Native American Reservation in New Mexico and started to have my eyes open to the poverty, inequalities and great need that was all around me. However, I would never have guessed that this small week in a rough New Orleans neighborhood could have brought about just as much change in me as that first trip twelve years ago did.

I have experienced more these past nine days than I expect to encounter in a year. Honestly. It's been that big of a trip. I've sat at this computer screen for two hours trying to figure out how to get it all out. And there's just too much. So instead, here's a glimpse.  

Our welcome to the city. We lost a window and our belongings. 

In the last six months I've had: my wedding ring, wallets (yes, multiple), clothes, toiletries, money, camera (these photos are all from my co-worker's camera), sleeping bag...all taken. One day I'll hopefully start replacing these things. But to be honest, I'll be fine without them. God has really challenged me this week to start actively believing. It's a whole lot easier to say eternal things matter more then earthly things. That is, until you start losing your earthy things. 

Helping around the community.

Poverty. I've seen that when you're poor, you're often poor in many ways. Money, education, job opportunities, transportation, nutritious food (I have eaten one vegetable since my arrival), health, safety, mindset...more ways than I can count.  What can I do? Where do I start? How can I walk by one more person and simply turn away? Didn't Jesus say that what you do to one of these you do to ME? [Matthew 25:35-45]

Some of my housemates for the week!

I'm sharing a room with two beautiful women [front + center] in a rehab center. They have been through more in a day then I have experienced in my life thus far. They have been beat, raped and thrown aside. They have spent more nights in terror then peace. They have had to fend for themselves since they could walk.

Yet, they live with such an unbelievable understanding of their need for God. They don't do it on their own. They do the supernatural because their God is able. When will I learn? When will I stop living out of my own strength? When will I let the LIVING, BREATHING God who dwells within me take over?

New Orleans is more diverse than any place I have ever been. Ever. I've seen men dolled up in hot pink dresses, homeless ten-year-olds, tourists from all corners of the earth, streets too dangerous to walk down and remains from Hurricane Katrina at almost every corner. If I settled here for the next ten years, I feel like I would only be able to scratch the surface of this culture.

Yesterday I took our 44 kids to a Katrina memorial between our homeless feedings and relational ministries. The memorial was a burial ground to 126 unidentified and unclaimed victims. Individuals who had so little connection with people in our world that no one knew they went missing-no one knew they passed away.

I'm still trying to process that.

Hurricane Katrina completely changed the course of so many lives. In an instance people lost their homes, their cars and their every possession. Every. Single. Thing. The masses were forced to evacuate the city for the next three months. People scattered around our country in search of shelter, food and hope. And those who returned found almost nothing worth salvaging.

We happened upon an abandoned house while driving through a community last Saturday and we took the opportunity to check it out. After climbing through the front door we found ourselves amidst total destruction. The water level lines on the walls were almost up to my head, the sheetrock had been burglarized for the copper pipes they housed and the bathroom still had shaving cream and shampoo in the cupboards.

What would it be like to lose every earthly possession?

What would it be like to watch the work of my life wash away in a single day?

What would it be like to be forced from my life? For months?

What would it be like to return to total destruction? To nothing?

I'm not sure, but it has been incredibly humbling working in this place and imagining how I would have reacted to such disaster. 

Around 11pm tomorrow night I will be finishing up a ten-hour car ride and raking the side of the road for a sign that says: Welcome to New Orleans. My legs are already complaining about the journey, but my soul is thirsting at the opportunities that await. It's going to be a good, good week.

 

As I have been reading up on the city, my heart has been heavy. I came across a story this afternoon of a mother who has had to bury each one of her sons in the past 19 years. All four of them. Gone. I have learned of families that are still pleading for clean, decent water to come from their taps. I have shed tears over kids I will never meet because of thin walls and flying bullets. I have been stunned with stories of 20-somethings giving their lives to protect young children from drive-by shootings (children they were not even related to).

We will be spending our time focused on a couple of rehab and homeless shelters. We will be serving meals, helping out with after school programs, doing construction in people's living spaces, building relationships, and showing lots of love. I cannot imagine what it would be like to graduate from high school having attended the funerals of 22 classmates. I cannot imagine having attended one.

 

  

In every healthy and thriving community, there are key people.  I like to call them game-changers.  These are the people who lead the charge, who push people out of their comfort zones, who encourage others to step into the greatness that God has called them into.  You know the kind of people that I'm talking about!  You feel more alive simply because you're around them...

These are the people we're committed to developing.

The World Race is an unbelievable experience.  God absolutely shatters worlds on this trip.  People return with their hopes and dreams redefined by the countless needs, injustices and issues in our world.  The simple satisfactions of life somehow don't cut it.  Instead, participants come back aching to do something more. 

But sometimes, this is where it stops.

Soon their thoughts of changing the world are overtaken with hours in front of the television, shopping trips filled with the newest fashions and arguments over organic produce.  It's not that these things are bad (who wouldn't enjoy a bucket of fresh picked strawberries or a new pair of shoes).  It's that alone they lack purpose and life.  And like you, I'm not okay with this.

Therefore, we're developing a program for people who come off the field and want to go deeper.  For people who want to change this world, but don't have the knowledge or skills to know where to start.  We will be spending the next years discipling and training people to transform communities through the freedom, justice and love of God's Kingdom.  Wherever they go. 

  Teaching possible future World Racers some Wii Tennis.

I've owned pepper spray once in my life.  I had decided to go back to school for nursing and was commuting over two hours each day down to the University of Illinois.  Chicago gas prices were simply ridiculous, and we were living off of a pretty meager salary.  Thus, I forwent the school parking lot and opted for open spaces along the street.  This led to a good twenty-minute walk to class each morning, but I enjoyed stretching my legs after the long drive.  

Our school was big enough to have it's own police department and they sent out regular e-mails to every student whenever something tragic happened.  I got at least two forwards a week concerning robberies, assaults and rapes.  As any good college student would, I often read the first sentence or two and deleted the e-mails in lieu of my piling papers and exams.  However, there was one thing that continued to catch my eye.  Nine out of ten incidences occurred in the same area and on the same street I walked everyday.  To be honest, I didn't think too much of this.  I had to go to class.  I had to walk on this street.  So, I just walked. 

That is, until Billy found out. 

One day I nonchalantly mentioned that I was getting annoyed with all these warning e-mails.  He asked a few questions and that same afternoon I found myself with a neon red bottle of pepper spray.  We're talking the kind that is outlawed in most states; the kind that sprays in all directions instead of a single stream; the kind that kills (well, almost). 

I hated that thing.  I knew, I just knew I would end up hurting myself more than injuring any attacker.  But, Billy asked about it regularly so I couldn't just keep it hidden in the glove box.  Instead, I would walk my 4:30am jaunt with my painfully bright bottle sticking out awkwardly in my right hand.  Hand on the trigger.  Ready to fight. 

Today we decided we might need to find that bottle once again.  See, we live in the country now.  I'm talking gravel roads, roaming chickens and decks filled with refrigerators and coaches.  We've been braving the 30F mornings and heading out on short runs before we make our way to the office.  We typically encounter at least four growling, drooling dogs a day.  They snap at our ankles and snarl at our skinny legs like we're juicy pork chops gliding past their noses.  But today, one of the pit bulls got a little too bold and bit into Billy.  Twice.  It's a good thing it was cold because that meant Billy was wearing running tights and wind-pants.  Which equaled double protection.

He was not too happy about this greeting and I simply started crying.  (I know what you're thinking; the pepper spray really wouldn't have helped me out.  And you're right, it wouldn't have.)  But, Billy promised to be in charge of this one.  So, we're going to search through our boxes tonight and if we cannot locate it, we'll be driving into the city before our next morning run. 

 

We packed our lives into our little silver Corolla Sunday night and drove a solid 13 hours on busy highways from Chicago to Georgia yesterday morning.  We tried to be careful in choosing what we would bring, but when push came to shove, we had to remove four boxes at the last minute.  I tried not to look too closely at what I was leaving behind-I mean who needs a sweatshirt in the south?  However, if you come to visit us, you'll have to bring your own cup because we only managed to fit in two.  

There are a lot of unknowns in our future.  We don't have a place to live [yet].  We don't know what our daily life is going to look like at the office.  We've been eating oranges and peanut butter sandwiches for the past four meals.   And I already have what remains of our whole wheat bread ready for dinner.  Nevertheless, compared to goat intestines, this still echoes of gourmet!

Although I expect to live like this when we travel, it sure seems strange to do it on this side of the ocean.   I kind of like it.  I think we were born for this. 

Tonight we're going apartment, trailer park, basement or garage shopping.  Whatever we can find.  Then we'll get to unpack our overstuffed car and set up our home.  It's been quite a while since I've used that term with any semi-permanent meaning.  If it's big enough we'd love to have you over for dinner when you're ever down this way.  It is 62F today.  Does that help entice you? 

This is more of an incomplete update than a detailed one.  Hopefully we'll be able to fill in some of the blanks in the days to come.  Until then we'll be keeping ourselves busy with the apprenticeship program and grocery shopping.  We get to start everything from scratch!  I cannot wait. 

Love you all, the Swans.

 

 

I've seen God move in ways that I had only heard stories about. I've seen people step into the freedom that God has for them, find physical and emotional healing, learn to use their voice, to trust people enough to let them in, to love as Christ loves, and to bring a message of hope to the nations! 

All I can say is "Wow, God!"  Of all these things, I think my favorite moment is when somebody realizes for the first time how much God actually loves them.  I've seen this look so many times over these past four months, and it is worth giving my life to!

You see, when I went left four months ago, I was excited to be able to share my wisdom, my biblical knowledge, my masterful insight into people's emotional and relational lives and of course to have fun all the while.  These were what I saw as my major contributions to this squad.  God had different plans. 

The most significant contribution I made to these 55 awesome men and women of God was to show them a glimpse of what Father God's love is like.  This really is the most important thing!  Everything else pales in comparison to this.  Last week we got to have a time of debriefing with our squad, and as people talked to me and about me, they spoke not of my wisdom or anything, but of how I loved them.  I now understand when Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13 that even if I have crazy spiritual gifts and abilities, it doesn't mean jack if I don't love people!

Honestly, it has been crazy.  I feel like I have 55 kids, and I would venture to say that some of them see me as a kind of father!  In these past four months, I have prayed harder, laughed louder, cared more deeply, hugged more intensely, had more snot and tears on my shirt, and loved more passionately than I ever thought possible!  All of this has been a reflection of God's Spirit at work in me, because I do not have it in me to love people like this in my own strength. 

I can't tell you what a great privilege it has been to serve and love this squad, and God has used them to unlock things in my own heart and prepare me for loving people the rest of my life!

Thank you God, for knowing exactly what I needed and for giving me the honor of representing Your love to Your children.  Thank you W Squad for loving me back and for allowing me to be a part of your life!  I am forever transformed.