The Stain of Beauty and Brokenness

Once Africa’s red dirt gets under your nails, it’s hard to get it out.

The red clay is caked to my shoes and the cuffs of my jeans and it has stained my heart.

There are majestic animals roaming wide open spaces and breathtaking sunsets filling the horizon.

Vibrant colors wash the city. It is a constant contrast to the extreme poverty that desperately works to strangle out hope.

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Gridlocked traffic jams and thick exhausts plagues the city. Suffering tinges this country.

Today we stopped at a gas station on the way home from a quarterly Mercy House board meeting, next to a bright, outdoor market where handwoven rainbow bags swayed in the breeze, inviting us to behold their beauty.  An elderly beggar was asking for money outside the window. The gas station attendants told him to leave and when he wouldn’t, they took his walking cane and beat him with it.

He limped over to our van and asked again.

It’s not just this land. It’s the people that capture. It’s their resilience. It’s their beauty. It’s their brokenness.

Beauty and Brokenness–built on red soil–that’s what brands the heart.

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We spent 4 hours in our meeting today talking about just that.

I was reminded again of the impossibility of what we seek to do. Rescuing a girl and her unborn baby from the clutches of evil is audacious work.

It is heartbreaking. It is heartwarming. It is both at the same time. The magnitude wrecks me. We are believing God for the impossible, the improbable.

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We take two steps forward and one back.

We make slow or no progress at all, but we are faithful and when we look behind us, we can see how far we have come.

We have 4 guards, protecting two houses, two dozen moms and babies with more coming. A gardner who also serves as a driver, and a social worker and a counselor and . . .  and I felt a wave of panic today at this responsibility.

Rescuing and redemption. But again, this is God’s work, not ours.

Today we played ball and laughed and chased toddler boys, who randomly stopped to pee pee in the bushes and on the rocks every chance they got.

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Sitting in a circle, we asked shy new residents what they wanted to be when they grew up. I can hardly reconcile listening to 12 and 13 year old girls whisper their childlike dreams while a baby kicks in their wombs. My kids, the same age, sit next to them.

And I am undone.

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One of the residents at Mercy House painted my fingernails red today. Crimson polish stains my nails and my skin.

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It’s the worst manicure I’ve ever had.

It’s the most beautiful one, too.

When we look again, we see something impossible-we see both.

The breathtaking stain of beauty and brokenness.

The House That Mercy Built

This is the house that mercy built.

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This is the window that sits in the frame of the new house that mercy built.

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This is one of the babies who lives in the home who looks out the window of the house that mercy built.

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This is a mom to one of the babies who’s life is being transformed at the house that mercy built.

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This is a hutch that houses animals to feed the residents who live in the house that mercy built.

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This is the hair and nail salon that donors built that teach the girls skills for future living in the house that mercy built.

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This is the garden that grows the vegetables that feeds the girls and babies at the house that mercy built.

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This is the playroom that entertains more than a dozen babies at the house that mercy built.

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This is the couple that gives their lives away in the office at the house that mercy built.

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This is one mom who is grateful for your yes at the house that mercy built.

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These girls are the new addition to the family that God created . . .

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Because your yes matters at the house that mercy built.

The Difference Between Their Daughters and Mine

She is 14. She longs for adventure and freedom. She loves to learn and is at the top of her class. She helps her mother with her siblings and she doesn’t mind it. She snatches her mother’s bright shirt from the laundry and twirls as she holds it to her chest. She has dreams.

She is not my daughter.

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But she could be. 

The only difference between that girl and my own is where they were born.

One was born into freedom. The other oppression.

My daughter will live adventure. She will know freedom. She will continue in school and work to stay at the top of her class. She will help with her brother and sister and she will dream.

The girl born in the red dirt of Africa will be kidnapped from school in the middle of the night and held at ransom, probably abused or worse. 

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Every time I read that females are the most oppressed people group in the world my stomach knots and I feel sick.

Because I have daughters. And I am a mother. And I love God and He loves them. And I long for things to be made right in this world. For the girls to come home, to be free, safe. It’s the compelling force behind Mercy House. It’s the story behind the story.

In our world of sky scrapers, hand-held computers, busy schedules and lovely Pinterest, it’s too easy to think this good life we lead is normal. It’s not. This is not how most people in the world live.

And my girls painting their toenails and giggling in the bathroom is a luxury. They do not know oppression. They do not fear being taken in the middle of the night.

Do you know what the number one fear in the slums of Africa is? It’s not starvation or lack of water. It’s not provision. It’s violence. Girls fear being violated. Because the odds are they will be on their way home from school…by strangers, by their fathers and uncles, policemen. It’s a thought so sickening, it keeps me up at night.

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How do we help these girls?

How do we stop the oppression of women and girls?

How do we put an end to the violence against them?

We pray.

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And we pray some more.

And we continue to pray until they are rescued. Until they are redeemed. Until they come home.

I was sitting in church the other day. My eyes were closed as I sang. I lifted my hand in surrender and when I did, the twine on my prayer bracelet snapped and the little heart fell onto my lap. How fitting. Holy hands. A Holy God. A Holy Fight to remember girls all over the world from Nigeria to Kenya to South America to the brothels in Thailand to the elusive massage parlors in my city, to the refugee moms we teach to crochet.

We feel helpless. But when we pray we unleash the Great Helper.

We feel inadequate. But when we pray God is more than adequate.

We feel defeated. But when we pray Jesus defeats the enemy.

This week, today, now, the staff at Mercy House are talking to helpless, hopeless pregnant girls who will be our next in-house residents. They are setting up a mentoring group in a nearby slum for those who won’t be residents. We are taking Mercy House to them. It’s overwhelming, heart-breaking work. The stories-oh, Jesus-the pain the girls in our world endure. We pray. It’s the one thing we can do.

3 Things We Can Do Today For the Most Oppressed People Group in the World:

  1. Sure, go ahead and light up social media with #bringbackourgirls. But at the same time, do battle. Shine a light on the darkness of terror that will draw attention from every corner. It’s time we fight on our knees.
  2. Wear a love mercy prayer bracelet. Every time you see it or touch it or feel it on your skin, whisper a prayer. It’s a constant reminder not to forget them and to pray for oppressed girls everywhere.
  3. Most of all, pray. Right now, wherever you are. Whisper this prayer to God on their behalf:

“God, we humbly seek your face and lift up the girls and women in our world who suffer in bondage and fear violence. We ask that you would set these captives free. We pray they would feel your strong arm of love in the midst of their suffering. Please give me the courage to stand against oppression. Bring back our girls. Amen.”

Do you know what the difference between their daughters are and mine?

Nothing.

 

[Does your church have a bookstore, coffee shop or do you own a restaurant, boutique or know someone who does? We are now offering our love mercy prayer bracelets at a low wholesale cost to help spread awareness. Please email for details.]

It Matters. {Giveaway}

Updated with randomly chosen winners: Please check your email!

Congrats to Amalia, Valorie M, Melody B, Jodi T, and Brandi

Every load of laundry.

Every spill wiped.

Every hug given.

Every phone call made.

Every note mailed.

Every meal cooked.

Every dollar given.

Every day lived.

Every time you say yes to someone other than yourself, you are changing another person’s world.

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You have changed mine.

You have changed theirs.

Thank you for saying yes with me.

Your yes matters.

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Thank you for buying my book, for reading the story, for saying yes to Mercy House.

Mostly, for saying yes to God.

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We had a little YES party this past weekend. So many local friends have served faithfully, quietly for years. I got emotional seeing them all in one place.

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party

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These are the some of the volunteers behind Mercy House USA.

They are the package-stuffing,

mail-sending,

jewelry-tagging,

box-carrying,

data-entrying,

order-printing,

bank-going,

donation-giving

YESES.

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I love you, friends, real-life and online, all the same, I love you deeply.

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And to those reading from California to North Carolina, from Canada to Mexico your yes is changing the world and today we celebrate that.

I’m giving away FIVE copies of Rhinestone Jesus with FIVE ‘Your Yes Matters” leather bracelets and FIVE “We change the world” prints.

Because your yes matters. 

Leave a comment to win.

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bracelets available here | prints available here | books available here

 

Tell Her You Love Her {Giveaway}

She wipes down the kitchen counters and wipes up the spilled milk.

She wipes away the stains and the bad days.

She wipes all the tears and all the rears.

She is a mom. And whether she’s your wife or your mom or you’re hers, she needs to know all the wiping is remembered and appreciated.

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And we have a beautiful way to celebrate mothers all over the globe this year for Mother’s Day. It’s just over a month away and we’ve made your shopping easy this year.

Introducing our brand new LIMITED EDITION gorgeous paper bead mother’s necklace in green and pretty pink handcrafted  beads made by our young mothers in Kenya at Mercy House. This is a beautiful, meaningful way to bless your mother, mother-in-law, mother friends as well as young mothers across the ocean:

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The first 50 sold also receive an adorable FREE Mother’s Day Card and all the proceeds go to bless mothers in Kenya!

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Inside card: Hope your Mother’s Day is loads of fun!

Back of card:

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Today, we are giving away two of these very special necklaces. Click over and read more about them and leave a comment on this post to be entered. (We are also selling them on leather cord necklaces instead of paper beads).

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Get yours soon because these won’t last.

But a mother’s love will.