A November Saturday

New Stream Honey

         On my 4th cup of tea this morning trying to clear out my pipes in the last stage of a head cold. Feeling super spoiled with Nystrom's home grown honey that was hand carried to our door step by daughter Raina. Even have a dash of lemon juice to add.
        Winter is upon is. Here, of course, that means minus temperatures, inches of ice, and smoke smoke smoke!
         Work is challenging but rewarding. We've lost 2 of our main ladies at Streams to their old life styles. We're heart broken but trusting God is still at work and may even bring them back to us. Staff are putting in extra effort into outreach. Our annual Christmas party tends to touch new ladies and its coming up soon.
      Our favorite 'American Store' has gone out of business because the customs process had gotten too unwieldy. So, we searched in vane for some of the seasonal treats we used to be able to get there. Jim came home from other shopping hunts with snack bags of Cheetohs & Fritos, black olives and pretzels. Yesterday, I found green onions, canned apricots, and the biggest treasure, celery! But no cranberries or yams :( We'll attempt a festive fare this afternoon.
     We are grateful. . . for warmth, loving family, friends & supporters, health, for the privilege to serve, for our marriage, and for the eternally abundant love, grace, and faithfulness our Savior gives. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Can't Change People

We can be there for others: love them, listen to them, pray for them, hold out hope, encourage, support, cry, and laugh with them. But we can’t change them.  When a lady is doing well, I often forget the depth of hurt she struggles with. I can’t understand how familiar her darkness is. When she comes to work, seems to have made a decision for new life, is faithful and consistent for a season, I forget. I forget the pain in her past, the wounds, the giant holes of insecurity, the self -condemnation, the brokenness, the functional, albeit ugly, coping mechanisms. I forget the vastness between my world and hers.

Annie had been with us almost a whole year.  She was doing so well. She had learned most of the jewelry designs. She had a new, wholesome look; she seemed more like her true 19 years. Annie was laughing more, forgiving more and getting angry less. We could chart growth.  She had even gone back to high school. She had new dreams and was on the way to attaining them.    

Then her grandpa died. Her family connections were weak and fragile.  But Grandpa’s presence had been some kind of constant in her life.  Then her roommate surrendered, again, to an alcoholic binge that took her back to the streets, back to her pimp, back to darkness. Annie followed.

               And so we mourn and are reminded that a few months of love don’t change a person. Healing takes time. Change has to happen deep within; it’s more than a new wardrobe, new hair color, and a new routine. 

I was reminded this morning, “Leave the outcomes to God.” He is in the people-changing business. His plans for healing and recovery, for working all things together for good, are much wiser than I can imagine. So, I’m trying to leave the outcomes to Him.

               I’m sad. The sadness feels heavy, like an elephant sitting on my chest. I pray for Annie and Nergui fervently, passionately, desperately. But I must trust that the outcomes, the business of change, are His and His alone.