Petition for the Slave

You're the Lion, fierce and dangerous in every winsome way

Holy Spirit Your heart cries out for the slave

The one who is beaten and the one who is raped

Your anguish pours out from passion that crushes. 

And oh that You would CRUSH the head of evil, that spreads and expands like air in our lungs

Open our mouths, move our tongues and make our prayers many,

Make them for the girl who runs for her life; for the little boy on the streets with nowhere to hide

 Love evil hearts because nothing in me moves for them

My flesh refuses to speak out for even one

Unconditional love of a Savior is so much greater 

It produces righteous anger against the source of such disgusting behavior

Holy Spirit QUICKEN!

Help me to believe that one prayer can save the soul I do not know

That it will break the chains that I have never known

If my faith can move a mountain, can it then tear down more than one brothel?

And if corruption hold her with force and guards her under heavy lock

I plead Your goodness creeps in her soul

Like a sunrise that steals beneath the cracks

 That your face would flood her eyes ,extinguishing darkness as the beloved disciple has described

With You near, Your MIGHTY ROAR will be an anthem in her ears

Your arms will be her home

Bringing peace that will bear her incomprehensible horrors

Remind her how you died for her

How each day Your mighty army grows stronger

So that one day she'll know evil no longer

Don't tell me I'm naive!

That my petition to God is worthless!

I believe like a child, unashamed and filled with confidence

Can't you feel it?

I already sense that all of hell TREMBLES

If I must be here and she over there

I will FIGHT with faith; share my hopes and dreams with her through prayer

Holy Spirit in all your faithfulness

Make sure everyday that the one I pray for

receive this letter for these words are from her Savior

If you have ever seen the movie, The Whistle Blower, which depicts a true story of UN Peacekeepers in Bosnia who participated and found their pleasures in trafficking Eastern European girls. People who were originally sent to protect a vulnerable country that was emerging from a devastating war. And how ultimately the UN, on many different levels tried to ignore allegations against the known perpetrators within their services. When these men were faced with 'justice' they were simply sent home and faced no charges from their country of origin. UN Peacekeepers thrived in the sex trafficking business because they received immunity within the country that they were supposed to be helping. This movie is graphic. However, even this movie cannot fully show the emotional and physical abuse/torture these women go through. I was filled with anger and helplessness. I cannot be these girls' savior, I wish I could raid and crush each and every man with my bare hands who touch these girls, but lets face it, I really can't. That doesn't mean that I don't have power. I have power that is unmatched because of my Savior. I confess that when He told me that I could do so much in prayer I responded that I didn't feel like it was enough. Reality is, God has me here in Oklahoma. I'm here with reason and purpose and not in Bosnia, DRoC or Mexico, etc. where tragedy strips people daily. The places in which each and everyone of us are, is enough because we were put there by God. But we can reach into other nations through prayer and fasting, in ways that are greater than if we were to go over to the country ourselves. I write this knowing that not a whole lot of people read this blog and that's okay because as you know I write for the audience of One. However, to the few who do, make it a point and be intentional in praying for the slaves of sex trafficking, drug trafficking, sweat shops or who are caught in any other form of forced labor. Slavery is a problem all around the world but also within our nation. Dream BIG in your prayers, don't hold back from Him!

-Isaiah 61:1-7 (if you need help on how to pray)

A Poet's Past

I threw away a lot of writing that I did in middle school and high school. A lot of them were about boys, in which I thought every one of them was somehow the end of my life. Aside from the teenage drama, I suppose each boy I have dated was the end of life as I knew it and I praise God for it because by His grace I've become a better woman.  Anyways, here's a piece from high school. As I read it now I don't fully understand why I wrote it. I know I was in a dark place looking for light. There are two drafts and I guess in between the two I went through a change of heart, found some Light and rewrote the poem.

#1 A Little Closer To Heaven                                          #2 A Little Closer to Heaven
      
Today I climbed a mountain                                            Today my dreams soared     
So high you cannot see its top                                         So high you cannot see them
The higher I got, my problems blew away                      The higher they got the more they soared
Along with my loved ones too                                        And the more I hoped you'd be my loved one

If I could take someone with me                                    And I will take you with me
He would change the stars                                              You have changed the stars
And create the seas                                                         And created the seas
But he stands so far                                                        You stand so close to me
We are but two souls now                                               But I am still not yours

I come a little closer to heaven                                      I came a little closer to heaven
So alone and unaware                                                    So alone
As I look back and see him                                           As I look back I see you
Tears fill his eyes but joy consumes his heart               Tears fill your eyes but joy consumes your heart
His hamds stretch to catch me                                      Your hands stretch to catch me
But this time I will not fall                                            But by your side I will stand tall

If I could take someone with me                                  I will take you with me
He would change my heart                                          You have changed my heart
And create a smile                                                        And created my smile

But he cannot see it                                                      Though you cannot see it

We are two instead of one now                                    You are closer than ever

A white blanket comes in view                                    Your open arms come into view

I lay my head to rest                                                     And I embrace you forever

And slowly fade away                                                  Slowly I hold you tighter

Now I am a little bit closer to heaven                          Now I am a little bit closer to heaven

If I could put someone in my dreams                          You will always be in my dreams

He would make them come true                                  You will make them come true

And create my happy ending                                       And create my happy ending

But he's only a dream                                                  You're not only a dream

We are in two worlds now                                           You're my everything

Soon that day will come                                              Soon that day will come

For me to see                                                               For me to be

This great man, who made life livable                        With this man who made life livable

And dreams visible                                                      And dreams visible

Write

Writing has carried me throughout the toughest moments, the darkest, the happiest; it's held onto dreams yet to come into fruition. It's like a bank in which I deposit all things which are painfully honest or too embarrassing to tell. I think about the many who don't have the ability to write. Either due to lack of education, materials and/or freedom.

I think about history and how the world was forever changed at the dawn of language and again when the age of putting life in the form of characters in dirt, tablets, or any other material they could keep record of life on. This continued so on and so forth as technology advanced and we print news and record tragic and marvelous events. People wrote because they knew today or someday somebody would read it and that it would have purpose.

Some may think that writing is over rated. That it holds no cure for their own personal pain or even for the worlds. I read articles about the thousands killed in places like Syria and a journalists plea for the world to take action. I hear song lyrics that speak of moments so trapped inside an artist that the only way to release it's claim on their soul is to write it for the world to hear. We write to share the burden of a problem or to release erupting joy. I think of how some will silence the voice. Others will allow it to stay with them for a time because it relates to their own memories and present moment. Still, to many others it inspires movements or change and it heals or allows walls to be broken.

The permanence of print somehow allows these horrible and/or magnificent events in the world at large or from within  ourselves to become real or tangible, making it easier to grasp. The memory or moment can no longer haunt us but we can look at it again, face to face, and defeat it or remember it in times of need. Even if the print were destroyed or burned, the story would forever be told, giving it the ability to change the present and/or future. Somehow writing it all out, emancipates us to be vulnerable and raw, and it sets within us power that threatened to leave us just moments ago. It reveals a Presence we never thought we'd find or get back.

I wrote poetry all through high school. Throughout this time I was very depressed and so naturally, my writing was dark. It held anger, pain and fear. I actually felt guilty because I was negative. I didn't see rainbows or roses, I saw dark clouds and storms. That all seemed to counter my beliefs of a God who saves and gives bright abundant days. So I began to try and write songs of praise but it was like squeezing juice out of a used up lemon. I got a couple drops here and there but could never find enough to make my sweet lemonade just bitter and sour writing.

Eventually my thoughts saw less and less pen and paper. The whole notion seemed childish and dramatic because my pieces always held a certain amount of melodrama. It also lacked approval from certain people, approval I craved so much; so, eventually I showed it to no one. The voice in my writing became a wallflower, quiet and unnoticeable to both its viewers and its creator.

However, with God, my writing always took center stage. Believe me or don't but he brought it up in a prophecy that had been spoken over me. Two people who knew absolutely nothing about me and most certainly knew nothing of my poetry because I wasn't writing too much at the time. They asked me, "do you write poetry," in my mind I thought, sure if you could even call it that. I had little faith in words that I wrote and the word poetry sounded far too beautiful a word to label my own. Anyways, I said yes with a tone of confusion because it was very random question and of little importance considering all the things they could have said about my life. "He loves your poetry and He wants you to keep writing." I didn't really know whether to take it seriously or not....MY writing?!

Needless to say, I've tried my best to keep my writing alive for the One who loves it so much. Some years have been better than others. Most of the time I feel it's just my analytical, imaginative, hopeless-romantic, melancholy mind, babbling like a crazy lady in a psych ward.(see what I mean)  Haha! But it sets me free.

Free from heart break. Free from impatience. Free from my inadequacy to save the world. Free from stress and emotions that threaten to choke me up. Sets me free from lies told to me in secret that day. However, over the years it's allowed me to tell of a Love that's unmatchable to any other and writing about it sets my heart free, instead of keeping it locked away. Even if it is cheesy or ridiculous sounding. To me, this Love, (and I am not alone) it's real and paper helps me to never forget that. So I'll step out and put up a few pieces I've written, even the ones I wrote in middle school. No fear. No cares if you approve or not. Writing helps me to find my voice. And maybe it'd help you find yours too. But more importantly, when I write, I find Him.