Friday, August 31, 2012

Hope Through the Struggle

I've been struggling to find the foundation of my faith these last couple months. Maybe you can relate to this feeling of having lost your footing to your beliefs or values; not feeling like you're standing on the ground you once knew was solid under you.

I'm not sure if I'm ready to admit that I may have lost sight of the kingdom of God quite yet. Regardless of the truth of that statement I know that I have not given up on the gospel narrative. The reality of the incarnation floods my daily living from the light of a new day revealing redemption from yesterday's burdensome mistakes, to the peace and rest I find in the quietness of myself. I know these truths because I have taken them into myself, ingested them, meditated on them.

Though I will continue to wrestle through my thoughts, emotions, and experiences surrounding this struggle of faith, I know without any doubt that there is hope. When my faith waivers I have hope. When I allow my poor judgment and lack of self-control to get the best of me there is hope for a tomorrow characterized by love, selflessness, and kindness.

I haven't lived long enough to really know anything, but from the few experiences I do have I think it is safe to say that the struggles are unending throughout our journeying in this life. They may take different shape, or become less (or more) emotionally intense over time, but the struggle will always be present.

Whatever the struggle might look like for you, or the struggles that you see around you -- and there are many -- be a bearer of hope, a bringer of light. Hope on behalf of those who can no longer hold onto it. It is sometimes the only thing that spurs resiliency or ignites the possibility of change...

Hope is sometimes all we have.


Kat
Follow me on Twitter @katherineboldt



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Thursday, August 30, 2012

We may have been told to “expect” a miracle. I believe, on the contrary, we encounter them.


Many who call on the Name of Jesus and attempt to reconcile and integrate the Bible into their lives find it hard to understand how their lives could be so remarkably devoid of the supernatural.

In sixteen years of ministry and many more years since (as a "normal" person), I have to say that the occurrence of supernatural events is rare - very rare. Well, I should say, "supernatural" in the sense of UFOs, parting seas, paralytics walking and rocking their town. Alien abductions, mind reading and clairvoyance did not show up.

Not to say that I didn’t meet people who claimed to read minds, part seas and participate in alien abductions. Not to say that I wasn't also in proximity to people who claimed medical miracles, healing and the healing power, but for the most part those were hard to substantiate. The well-known, one-leg-shorter-than-the-other act; the nondescript malaise now “lifted”. There was the infamous case of a friend who claimed to have seen gold-dust drop from the sky and miraculously turned his mercury fillings into gold. I had to stand on my toes to peer into his mouth stretched wide by his fingers and peer into the cavern of his mouth to see the fillings. As far as I could tell…no gold; lots of spit, but no gold.

Perhaps we lose sight of real supernatural and miraculous things because we are prone to look for the weeping Madonna toast and angel warriors standing on the platform while the Pastor brandishes the sword of the Lord.

Maybe we are in the dark of the miraculous universe when our faith is floodlighted by the expectations of “church” and mega-miraculous over-promising.

It is clear to me that miracles would not be miracles if they happened with the regularity of a TV schedule. In such a case we would have to call them “normals” because a miracle suggests the rarity of diamonds and the scarcity of whooping cranes. Without reading too much into it, we must accept that the Gospels are condensed accounts of the life and times of Jesus. It is reasonable to assume that the Gospel writers chose to emphasize the miracles of Christ and exclude the normal days of Jesus. I suppose it is reasonable to assume that some churches, ministries and denominations are also tempted to put forward the miraculous events of their history as opposed to the normal drudgery of budgets, staff meetings, personal conflicts and sinfulness. Likewise, an individual may present a miracle in their life with such regularity that it may appear that they have a corner on the miraculous market. To make “normal” the reality of the rare and remarkable interventions of God on behalf of his children suggests a God we can boss around with our expectations and whininess in order to land a zinger of a story for next week's bible study or Sunday's “sharing” circle.

A careful examination of our lives (a good idea at any time) might show us that over the long term, miracles, rare and scarce have intersected our lives in ways not smacking of the circus or the snake oil salesman, but rather surfacing on the street level of our lives.
I have seen this to be true in my life and the lives of others.  Here are some examples:

The young man sad and homesick while away from his family and friends working the summer in Banff feels he should go into a church and sees a banner saying “Welcome Home”. Home he discovered would always be where God’s Presence could be found.
The weary Christian unsure of the God’s activity in his life encounters a stranger on a train who imparts life and hope in a 5-hour conversation of spirituality.
The husband bent on destroying his marriage and his family through abandonment hears Boyz II Men singing "Waters Run Dry" and he turns around before he makes the "biggest mistake of his life".  (Yes...I know...Boyz II Men... Really?)
A sin-riddled life turns around and faces his unhappiness and destructiveness with courage drawn from the wells of salvation.
The greenhouse worker enjoying his morning break in the quiet sun-filled space behind the glass walls encounters God softly, calling him to Himself and surrenders the battle that had raged in the darkness of his own soul.
The social worker who discovers Jesus has come with him to work and filled his heart with the empathy of a broken-hearted father.
The fieldworker who cannot hope to make enough money to pay rent and cover his family's expenses discovers cash, cold hard cash in his pocket as he dresses in his work-clothes before the sun has even risen.
The woman who discovers a forgiving God and a compassionate listener when she discloses for the first time that things at home are hotter under the surface than many would have known.

Miracles happen more in the ordinary and fallen days of our lives. We may have been told to “expect” a miracle. I believe, on the contrary, we encounter them. During a day of begging, during a day of watching sheep, during a smoke break on your job, or in the manure and straw strewn stable, light, inexplicable light fills a soul, lights a bush, rests on a child, opens a heart. Each one a supernatural encounter. Each one a miracle. -dg

Thursday, August 23, 2012

5 Things You Might Not Know About Rudy...

Hi, I'm Karina, and one thing I love to do is to get to know people by hearing their stories, especially those of my incredible co-workers.  So, to get to know some of them better, I decided to informally ask them a few questions about what they do and their passions. We’ll get to know one person at a time, starting with Rudy Newbury, Manager of Street Level Services in Edmonton.  Below is a glimpse into what he does and why he does it - enjoy the ride!
Rudy and his wife, Candace.

Me: So, Rudy, what do you do here at The Mustard Seed?
Rudy: Basically, I manage the drop-in, where we try our best to give people a safe place from the streets.  People can come to the drop-in for a meal, to warm up on a cold winter's day or to connect with others.   

Me: What’s something not many people know about you?
Rudy: I have a Bachelor of Arts – Intercultural Studies. I love culture and diversity; I believe it’s what makes Canada a great place to live.

Me: What’s a favorite story from your work here?
Rudy: While our drop-in is a safe place, we also want it to empower people to move forward. I have heard so many stories from community members in which our drop-in was their first step towards setting and achieving their goals. A gentleman in our housing program continues to say that The Mustard Seed staff helped rescue him from the streets. He used to be homeless with lack of purpose and hope and would come to the drop-in regularly to talk and connect with staff. Eventually he was hired by The Mustard Seed for a community clean-up project, which launched a journey for him of regaining his dignity and self-worth. Now, he has his own apartment through our housing program, is an employee of SeedWorks, and is doing great! This is one example of how impactful relationships can be built.

Me: What is your favorite thing about your job?
Rudy: Being able to lead an amazing group of staff!  I get to invest into staff, who then create trusting relationships with broken and hurt individuals, and something beautiful happens. Trust is a rare thing on the streets, so when a staff can break through and help people believe trust is possible, that’s when true, positive change can happen.

Me: What’s a piece of advice you’d give to others, now that you’ve worked at The Mustard Seed?
Rudy: Usually when we see a person we automatically create some sort of label. Sometimes it is homeless, poor, middle class, high class, etc. My piece of advice would be to recognize the face behind the label because behind every face there is a story. I have come to realize once I hear a person’s story it becomes impossible to create labels. Every story is unique; it sums up a journey that brought a person to an exact moment in time. Stories tend to show the heart of every individual and the heart is a true reflection of who that person really is.

Well, there you have it folks, a glimpse into Rudy and his experiences here. I pray this has given you a little taste of who he is and his role at The Mustard Seed.

What questions would you ask our staff to get to know them?

-Karina
You can follow me on Twitter, @la_canadiense

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Monday, August 20, 2012

Your Partner in Changing Lives


6 years, 2 months, 18 days.

196, 214, 400 seconds

3, 270, 240 minutes

54, 504 hours...

Since I began working at The Mustard Seed. In my second interview for my job back in the spring of 2006, I sat in a bare meeting room with Jody and Susan as Jody said to me, "everyone comes to The Mustard Seed because they're looking for something. They’re all here different lengths of time before they realize they've found it."

I found it almost that day, and have been finding, losing and rediscovering it ever since. What is it? Well that’s for each person to find out for themselves. But I know it's here.

When I was hired, our tagline was “your partner in changing lives.” We truly meant it, and not just for our clients.  The Mustard Seed changed my life. It changed who I am, how I treat people, what scares me and what comforts me, what I push for, what my goals are, what enrages me, and more. I'm not afraid. I'm more compassionate. I've grown. I’m smarter now than I was, if perhaps a little more paranoid, and there’s a chance I might have a skewed perception on life. Working at The Mustard Seed has taught me all about love. 2271 days of love, as well as kindness, generosity and strength.

I have met the most incredible people of my life while I've been here - some of whom you've heard from on this blog, some of whom have moved on, some of whom have passed on, and some of whom are silent warriors, working or living amongst the poor - and surviving. And I am grateful for all of the moments I've spent with all of these people - both good moments and bad ones. 

What experience has changed your life?

Your partner in changing lives,

- Sarah


Follow Sarah on Twitter @ispeakcanadian

Friday, August 17, 2012

A camping trip to Blue Bronna; finding God among the Hills

Below are the notes written by Kelly McGregor, a Community Living Facilitator and the staff who attended the Blue Bronna camp with 6 Permanent supportive housing residents, 1 shelter resident and an H4H resident.

Blue Bronna Camping Trip

This is an account of the incredible events that happened on our wonderful camping trip. On our way to the Blue Bronna we made our way over rocky bumpy roads to the top of a steep hill where we were graced with an incredible view. Stacey stated “wow this is God’s country.” We even got to make our way through a herd of sheep! We arrived to smiling faces and a warm lunch of soup and quesadillas. They had already set up canvas tents for us to stay in with wood heaters in them. After lunch we got to go on our first horseback ride. Everyone was excited but a few decided to stay back and get some sleep as injuries prevented them from coming. The leader, Greg, taught us how to saddle and helped us get the horses ready. Cassie decided at the last minute that she was too scared to get on. Stacey, Tayfun, Dougie, and Ian all encouraged her that she could do it. Brittany another leader told Cassie that she would lead her horse the whole way so that she didn’t have to worry about directing her horse. Cassie after a few fearful tears agreed to go on the horse. Everyone congratulated her and told her over and over again all evening how brave she was. Cassie said she was really happy with herself for trying it and she said she really liked it and really like her horse. The horses name was “Roxy” and Cassie thought that was really cool because her favourite clothing brand- which she was wearing was called Roxy too. Ian, Stacey and Dougie were beaming the whole time as they were naturals on the horses.
We went back to camp to a warm fire and to dinner. Ian became the resident dishwasher for the rest of the trip as he liked helping and talking with the staff that did dishes with him. After dinner we had campfire songs, which were mostly old hymns. No one knew the songs at first but they listened anyway and by the end of the trip they had picked up on the tune of some songs and sang along. They even started requesting songs. After singing I (Kelly) did a short devotional on the peace of God. After that we sat around the campfire and hung out. Dougie, Tayfun, Stacey, and I stayed up until 1:30am talking about God. They were full of questions and I got to pray for Stacey and his family. Tayfun also was able to talk about something he has been keeping inside for 7 years. God graced us with his peace and freedom that night around the campfire.
The next morning we ate breakfast and then did some quite time devotionals. Ian picked up a Bible and every day after that he was reading it and asking questions. After that Greg started to teach them how to use the Lasso. Johnny and Susan had a great time talking about Susan’s childhood on the farm and they played with the two kittens and the dog named Chance as often as they could. Then we went for a day ride and a few of them stayed back and got some well needed peace and quiet.  The view at the end of the day ride was incredible and we hung out there for about an hour taking in the view, eating lunch and some of us napped. One highlight of the day ride, which Dougie and Ian will be glad to tell you about, is that I got close lined by a branch and fell backwards off of the horse. It was very funny and we all laughed and laughed! When we got back dinner was ready for us. Everyone kept talking about how great the food was and how it was nice to sit outside and eat by the fire. After dinner Greg started to chop would and everyone began to pitch in; Stacey chopped would, Ian organized and collected as did Jonny and Dougie, even I split a few. No one had to ask for help the community event of log chopping just spontaneously came together. We repeated the events of the evening before with songs and a short devotional.
The next morning I got up to take Cassie to meet Kristy and Ashley to take Cassie to court. We got to pray for Cassie that this step in her life would lead to an increase in freedom and peace and asked that the Justice of God would be poured out. Cassie stated that she wanted to start attending the Bible studies in housing as did Stacey. That day some of us went on a day hike. We had to cross the river and Stacey ran after Ian’s shoe which floated down the river after Ian fell. Johnny and Stacey helped Tayfun cross the river so everyone got over safe- not dry, but safe. At the top of the hike Ian and Johnny helped the staff make a fire and we cooked sausage and talked. When we got back we had an impromptu Bible discussion with Ian.
While we went on the hike Terence stayed back and helped Greg make a rope bridge which we all played on once we got back. Dougie had a great time trying to knock us all off and get us wet. Dougie took some great photos. He said his favourite was of him looking through the binoculars at the camera; his joke for the rest of the trip was “where’d you go?!”  The last day we slowly packed up and Stacey and Ian and I got to go bareback riding twice! While we were riding Susan, Jonny, and Terence got to do some archery. Then we loaded everything into the van in the rain and hail and took some final pictures. Several of them suggested (jokingly) if we could slash the tires so we could stay longer. Dougie and Stacey wanted to be “accidentally” left behind. Stacey got a pamphlet of other trips and said that he wanted to take his some out to the father/son trip before his son has to go back to school. Ian said that he would fly back to Calgary in order to come out to the trip next year, he said the trip changed his life. On the way back we passed this long fence where there were ball caps on every fence post. Dougie asked if we could pull over so that he could donate his hat to the fence. We did. Everyone said that they had a great time on the trip and that they look forward to next year.
Each person came into his/her own on the trip taking on certain roles. Ian became the dishwasher. Dougie got up and made coffee and started the fire each morning, Jonny became a true gentleman offering to get Susan beverages and take her dishes away. We called Susan John Dear all weekend because she loves John Deer stuff and also because she was Jonny’s dear! Together they became companions to the pets. Tayfun became the local musician who serenaded us during meals or quiet times with his guitar. Stacey was the main wood chopper. Cassie became the brave horse rider, who loved to chat and hated bugs. Terence became the local artist showing everyone his beadwork and jewelry that he made, and the construction worker helping build the rope bridge.
We were all so grateful that we got to go and that we have the opportunity to go again next year. Praise God for all that He did do and all that he will continue to do!

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

A Moment with Emma

My name is Mildred and, earlier this summer, I started working at The Mustard Seed as a community support worker. Recently we took a social issues walk around the inner city. Some people on the walk were employees at The Mustard Seed and others were nursing students from a local university. After looking at and talking about a few important landmarks, we passed by a spot where some of our clients spend their nights. A couple of mats and a few belongings were strewn around and a couple of women were sitting and chatting. We said our good mornings as we passed by and stood a few feet away to listen to our guide talk about what used to be the location of a tent city. Moments into the info session, one of the ladies (we’ll call her Emma) walked over to us and jokingly said that the stuff we were learning, though important, was not adequate. The ideal, according to her would be us actually coming to the streets and “living” the street life for a day and night.  She also mentioned that she is still human, though a “drunk one most of the time” (and we laughed) and that we did not need to be afraid of her. She pointed out one lady in the group and said she could tell she was scared because of the way her arms were closely hugging her body; she also alluded to how that body posture would be risky on the street. After saying a couple more things she walked away, only to return a few moments later eating a sandwich and holding a drink she said she had "bummed off some guys." This time she had little gems of information concerning safety on the streets; among other things she talked about the importance of wearing proper shoes because of the needles in the alleyways and warned us not to walk on the grass without proper shoes.

I must say the lady’s words were what I remembered the most about my walk that morning. It got me thinking about a number of things. The first was a reminder of the importance of experiential knowledge and how we need to continue paying particular attention to our clients’ stories.  Emma may not have “looked” the part of a teacher, but she sure knew what she was talking about because she was living it. More so, it also reinforced, for  me,  the importance of creating programs with our clients versus creating programs for our clients and how that can make the difference between a  regular lesson and a life changing one. Emma taught me never to lose sight of the fact that our clients make decisions every day, and our work is to facilitate decisions that better their lives. Although I am the “helper” in this work of poverty alleviation, it is really Emma’s story and others like hers that bring me to this position of service.  My hope is that particular moment with Emma is one that many in our group will not forget. I’m glad to have had a momentary glimpse into the lives of those we serve and how important it is to be totally present with them as we serve them. Every day as I become more familiar with the agency’s operations I ask myself, “How can I continue serving in a way that does not create dependency, but one that honors the experiences of our clients and involves them in making decisions about improving their lives? How can I stay open so the stories we share continue to be opportunity to learn more?"

What do you think?

- Mildred
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Thursday, August 09, 2012

Stitched Together

Sometimes I forget how significant the individual donations we receive can be. I am in charge of Mustard Seed Edmonton’s warehouse where we receive and sort all of our donations. My volunteers and I go through a whole lot of stuff - we sort dozens of bags and boxes every day. Many of our donors will drop by in the middle of their lunch break or errand run, and are often busy people who are on the go. And, so we usually greet each other with a smile and quick hello, and then I take their donations inside. On rare occasion I will have an interaction with a donor that so clearly reminds me that every little bit counts and that God is able to keep track of it all.

A few weeks back, the Wolbeck family came by with a donation. Brian, Deb, Greg and Emily piled out of their minivan with smiles on their faces. At the same time, another individual donor pulled up who seemed to be in a rush. The Wolbecks were quick to help take in the other donor’s items when I asked for their help. We all cheerfully worked together to empty the busy woman’s vehicle and then she was on her way.

Then I had a chance to take a look at the Wolbecks’ donation. Their minivan was packed full of beautiful, new, homemade quilts. It was a tiny miracle. What many of our donors don’t realize is that much of the community that The Mustard Seed serves needs new blankets all year round. It might be warm and sunny during the day, but it still gets chilly at night for people who sleep outside. Throughout this summer, and particularly when the Wolbecks arrived, our blanket shelves were completely barren. It was such a thrill for me to invite this family inside to show them the difference they would be making. And, they were invigorated too. They jumped to help bring in the dozens of quilts and put them directly into our Personal Assistance Centre.

As we worked together to fill the shelves, I felt like I wanted to bless the Wolbecks somehow in return for what they had given. So, I expressed this to them and asked if I could pray for them. As we bowed our heads it became so clear that God was present in that moment. Deb expressed it this way in an email to me afterwards, 
 “The Holy Spirit was just heavy in that place so we know great things will happen. May He bless every one of the hearts and hands of people that work there and may all who enter those doors feel what we felt.”

We were all moved to tears. Sometimes you just know that God is near and involved. I know for certain that God is able to see the needs of every individual that The Mustard Seed serves. And, I also believe that he is capable of drawing resources from far and wide to take care of those in need. I hadn’t even heard of the town of Heisler before I met the Wolbecks. But, God knew them and where they are from. He also knew that they would be willing to put all the effort into making those quilts and driving 160km to deliver them.

I am so thankful to be a part of a movement that doesn’t just reach out to the poor, but nurtures their community. I am also thankful that God sees fit to include people from all over Alberta in this same community as donors and volunteers. Christ is actively at work in Edmonton’s inner city stitching people together and I love it.
- Nathan

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Tuesday, August 07, 2012

Tiger by the Tail

Daylight required him to retreat from the open fields and well travelled paths to a shaded spot beneath an ancient tree. The tiger did not seem to notice, his chosen resting place was not deep in a jungle, or rather it was deep in a jungle of a very different kind. The tiger lay down in the city park, too tired and disoriented to consider leaving. "I will rest, and move on when darkness falls again." He missed the certainty of his forest home. He longed for the deep blanket of green he knew as a younger man. His home was far away, and if he had it to do over again, he often told others in the park, he never would have left. But he had believed that it would be better, here. Easy hunting, plentiful food and shelter who could resist?

The coolness of shade allowed some welcome relief from a night of moving in and out of shadow, hunting, searching, seeking and hiding. In the daylight, he could sleep, clean his wounds, allow the dryness of the air to dry his soiled feet and cracked skin. His coat, being thick and multilayered protected him from heat and cold. Its multicolored lines took on the rippling shadows of midday with a welcoming camoflage. In the relative safety of daylight, he at last could rest.

They saw him earlier in the day. His heaving breath and flailing limbs bore witness to the tiger's condition. They had water, they had eyes to see and ears to hear. They had what he needed even if the tiger knew nothing of it.  They approached cautiously, none of them had ever spoken to a tiger.

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It Can Happen to You

One of the elements of my previous role at The Mustard Seed was giving agency tours to basically anyone who called and requested one. I’m sure my tours weren’t the greatest. I think they weren’t extraordinary partly because I was am out of shape and could barely speak about our 4th floor programs after climbing the stairs, and partly because I had a hard time getting my tourees to really feel the impact of The Mustard Seed. But there were four tours that I clearly remember from those days. They’re all too long to put in one blog post, so I've settled on one story to tell.

A couple in their late-thirties wanted to come for a tour. I don’t fully remember their story, but I do know that they wanted to come in on a Saturday around 10 am. They were perfectly pleasant and very personable, which (take note) generally makes it much easier on the tour guide. In my attempt to have them truly grasp the issues, I tried to turn things around with the 'ol switcheroo and have my new friends mentally place themselves in the shoes of those who find themselves at our doors. Something that people don’t really think about is what they would do if it ever happened to them. Well, of course it never would, because those experiencing homelessness are a different, unfortunate brand of human being and share no similarities with regular people like you and I, right? Wrong. Clearly. 

We eventually reached the doors of our former “Step Up Housing,” which was a dorm-like housing program that housed 22 men and four women. Usually all who called Step Up "home" were required to be out of the building during certain hours, with the theory that those in the program couldn’t simply sit around all day. Exceptions were made for weather, those working nights, working shift work, or those who were sick – and, I’m sure, other valid reasons. Since it was a Saturday, people were milling about in the building, but the room was nearly empty. I was at the end of my “it can happen to anyone, and I truly mean anyone. Really,” spiel, which I think was falling on not-quite-deaf-but-pretty-close ears when I explained what Step Up was, and we went in to tour around. I was in the middle of describing the program when the dad looks at the one man in the room, a guest of ours, and nearly falls over. “Doug?!,” he asks. “GREG?!” Doug responds as the two men look wide-eyed at each other. The wife and I look at each other, completely befuddled, and back slowly out of the room to give the two men some room to speak.Greg joins us in the hallway after a few minutes, looking like he’d seen a ghost.
 “I saw Doug two years ago. I worked with him. He was fine.”
And with that, Greg and Doug had proved my point, far more powerfully than I ever could have. It truly can happen to all of us. And it can happen to those we love. The rest of the tour was pretty quiet and, when they left, I truly felt I'd done my job. But, in actuality, someone much more important had done it for me.

- Sarah
Follow Sarah on Twitter @ispeakcanadian 
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Friday, August 03, 2012

This Community Does Not Tolerate Sexual Exploitation

Part of my job here at The Mustard Seed in Edmonton is in education. No, I am not a teacher... At least not officially. Though, I do teach people about our community, about practising social justice and solidarity, about the realities of poverty that exist in our city.

Yesterday the teaching topic of the day was sexual exploitation. To help me in this conversation I welcomed CEASE (Centre to End All Sexual Exploitation) to share with us the history of sex trafficking in our community, as well as their personal experiences with street prostitution. There were two women, one of whom was vital to the development of CEASE as an organization, the other a victim and survivor of sexual exploitation.

They shared with us stories of sex trade workers being herded into specific communities by law enforcement officials in the mid-80s to hide this issue from the up and coming college campuses in downtown Edmonton. They talked about the street count done by police officers in 1992 where they counted 250 children and 750 women on street corners working at all hours of the day. They also taught us about the 'John School' program offered through CEASE to men charged for purchasing sex (a program which boasts a success rate upwards of 80%).

But the part of the story that will stick with me is when Juanita shared about her experience being pimped out from the age of 10. An Edmonton-native, Juanita was born into a family of addiction, abuse, and intergenerational patterns of destruction. She was moved in and out of many foster and group homes from the minute she was born. She shared memories of repetitive sexual assault in her early childhood, and of eating out of garbage cans for days on end when her mother would leave her without explanation.

I don't think I will ever forget the horrific details of Juanita's 22 years of street work, and to be honest, I don't think I want to. Though it was difficult to hear in some instances, Juanita's story is a story of hope, of grace, and of the redemptive nature of our Creator. It also reminds me that there are none who choose a life of prostitution, addiction, poverty, homelessness. For most, there are no choices at all, only the decision to keep walking and journeying the road they've been set on.

For more information on the fight against sexual exploitation and sex trafficking visit ceasenow.org or defenddignity.ca.

-Kat
Follow me on Twitter @katherineboldt

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Thursday, August 02, 2012

I am an addict

Hello.  My name is Josh and I am an addict.

Man it feels good to say that.  Give it a try and see how you feel. After all, we are all addicts... right?

In modern day terms, ‘addiction’ is used to describe what the biblical text calls ‘sin’ and what Christians in the Middle Ages called ‘passions’ or ‘attachments’.  Alcoholics and drug users exhibit the visible form of addiction, but the reality is - we are all addicted.  We are habituated to our way of thinking and doing and how we process our reality. Essentially, we are addicted to our ego.

As a society we are addicted because we agree to be compulsive and obsessed - Alberta’s addiction to oil, America’s addiction to war, government’s addiction to empire, the church’s addiction to absolutes, the poor person’s addiction to victimhood, the rich person’s addiction to entitlement.  As my friend Nic says, “[we all have] a deeper reality which needs to be addressed and named… brokenness.

I am not an alcoholic but I am an addict.  I am addicted to myself, my own pattern of thinking, my own reason and logic and, in a way, my insecurities and fears. I am addicted to self-indulgence, control and willpower. I am addicted to the self-image I manufacture.  As Thomas Merton would put it, I am addicted to my ‘false-self”.   There must be a way to break free of these self-made chains, but as one of my heroes, Albert Einstein, said, “No problem can be solved by the same consciousness that caused the problem in the first place.”  I need a transformed consciousness.

In Alcoholics Anonymous, Step One of the Twelve Steps is: “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable.

In this statement is more than meets the eye. Is the admission of addiction and, therefore, powerlessness, the first step to overcoming it? Our society often looks at the visibly addicted with judgement and condemnation, as if people who struggle this way are lesser than those who don't.  Jesus and other wisdom teachers say something different.  It seems that people who fail to do the ‘right’ thing are often those who break through into a new enlightened consciousness of compassion and contentment.  It seems that until your own resources fail you and you're truly powerless, only then can you begin the journey of discovering your ‘true-self.'

The path towards true transformation, healing and salvation is through powerlessness; dying to the false-self, letting go and unlearning, and reveling “in this cosmic economy of Grace.” (Richard Rohr)

What are you powerless towards?


- Josh