Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Set apart
We are set apart. Is that not amazing?
For you are a holy people to the Lord your God; the Lord your God has chosen you to be a people for Himself, a special treasure above all the peoples on the face of the earth.
Deut. 7:6
We are set apart and commissioned to speak the truth, to proclaim the whole truth in its entirety with boldness.
The word of the Lord came to me, saying,
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”
“Alas, Sovereign Lord,” I said, “I do not know how to speak; I am too young.”
But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the Lord.
Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, “I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.”
Jeremiah 1:4-10
We have a holy calling as God's people, regardless of age or skills. If He calls, you had better obey and follow.
Coming to Him as a living stone, rejected indeed by men, but chosen by God and precious....But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.
1 Peter 2:4, 9
Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me His prisoner, but share with me in the sufferings for the gospel according to the power of God, who has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace which was given to us in Christ Jesus before time began....For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day.
2 Timothy 1:8-9, 12
I know whom I have believed.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Love...for the johns
God, WHY?
I've been asking this quite frequently these last two days. I'm so frustrated. Never before have I felt so completely helpless.
Last night, while sitting outside in the courtyard, I witnessed a prostitute proposition a customer and get into his car, driving off to who-knows-where. (I don't like calling these girls and women prostitutes: I think it's a degrading label.) I frequently see and talk to the women walking our street, but never had I witnessed a girl getting picked up by a john (a man soliciting sex from a prostitute.) I felt so angry. It was evident she was not happy with what she was doing. I was so disturbed. I know that prostitution is one of the biggest problems in our neighborhood. Heck, we live in the most dangerous neighborhood of Las Vegas. We regularly see and try to talk to the girls walking the street as they pass by our base. It hurts my heart, but the pain was magnified when I saw a woman that we just talked to get into that car. How, God, how am I supposed to feel any type of love or remote kindness for the man that is taking advantage of this woman, decreasing her self-worth? I want to tell this man that he is destroying her. She has mentally separated herself and is nothing but a shell when "working:" a hollow shell devoid of emotion. That is the only way she can survive.
I wish that was the first and last time I saw the street sex business in operation, but no. Tonight, as a friend and I were running, we paused to let a car drive into the bank parking lot. As he pulled in and drove to the back of the parking lot, it was evident that the driver just picked up a girl off the street. I felt sick. We began simultaneously praying and running.
God, how am I expected to love these men?
I want justice.
However, I remember the story of the boy that confessed to his family of raping his 3 year old sister. When crying to his father that he had a problem and needed help--the right type of response--his father stripped him naked and shot him twice in the back of the head. As horrifying as this story is, it parallels our thinking of hate and revenge towards those who have committed awful crimes. Do we really want justice? If God truly did deal out justice, then ALL of us are royally screwed. If we received the justice we deserve from God, we'd be goners. Our role is to give God the justice He deserves and He gives us undeserved mercy. Because we receive mercy from God, so must we show mercy to others.
Two weeks ago, we listed to a sermon by Paris Reidhead, a rather unknown pastor from the 1960s. His message, Ten Shekels and A Shirt, contains mentality-shifting messages on our humanistic worldview and the theme of justice towards God. We are at fault for trying to get something from God rather than give to Him the justice He deserves. The message ends with the Moravian prayer: May the Lamb who was slain receive the reward of His suffering.
I encourage you to listen to this dynamic message packaged in an old recording: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76BUB9IchNU
Despite our two outreaches each week to the restoration home, womens' shelter, and outreaches on the street, I still wish I could do more. I know that my program is focused on education, but I become impatient and want to do something more. I don't like feeling helpless.
I need to be still and know that He is God. Nothing goes unnoticed by Him and His heart is grieving far more than mine. There is a time for learning, and a time for pouring out. I can't fix all the problems. I can't immediately change our faulty laws that criminalize a prostitute despite her complete control and abuse under a pimp. I can't mend the broken families in this neighborhood that create the runaway and broken girls. I can't end the production of porn that fuels sexual exploitation. If I didn't give these feelings of heaviness and sorrow to God, I would become so burdened. I have to continually remind myself of His great love and through that, love these girls, love the johns, and love the pimps.
I may become momentarily mad, but I can't remain in that state. God's love is too big.
I've been asking this quite frequently these last two days. I'm so frustrated. Never before have I felt so completely helpless.
Last night, while sitting outside in the courtyard, I witnessed a prostitute proposition a customer and get into his car, driving off to who-knows-where. (I don't like calling these girls and women prostitutes: I think it's a degrading label.) I frequently see and talk to the women walking our street, but never had I witnessed a girl getting picked up by a john (a man soliciting sex from a prostitute.) I felt so angry. It was evident she was not happy with what she was doing. I was so disturbed. I know that prostitution is one of the biggest problems in our neighborhood. Heck, we live in the most dangerous neighborhood of Las Vegas. We regularly see and try to talk to the girls walking the street as they pass by our base. It hurts my heart, but the pain was magnified when I saw a woman that we just talked to get into that car. How, God, how am I supposed to feel any type of love or remote kindness for the man that is taking advantage of this woman, decreasing her self-worth? I want to tell this man that he is destroying her. She has mentally separated herself and is nothing but a shell when "working:" a hollow shell devoid of emotion. That is the only way she can survive.
I wish that was the first and last time I saw the street sex business in operation, but no. Tonight, as a friend and I were running, we paused to let a car drive into the bank parking lot. As he pulled in and drove to the back of the parking lot, it was evident that the driver just picked up a girl off the street. I felt sick. We began simultaneously praying and running.
God, how am I expected to love these men?
I want justice.
However, I remember the story of the boy that confessed to his family of raping his 3 year old sister. When crying to his father that he had a problem and needed help--the right type of response--his father stripped him naked and shot him twice in the back of the head. As horrifying as this story is, it parallels our thinking of hate and revenge towards those who have committed awful crimes. Do we really want justice? If God truly did deal out justice, then ALL of us are royally screwed. If we received the justice we deserve from God, we'd be goners. Our role is to give God the justice He deserves and He gives us undeserved mercy. Because we receive mercy from God, so must we show mercy to others.
Two weeks ago, we listed to a sermon by Paris Reidhead, a rather unknown pastor from the 1960s. His message, Ten Shekels and A Shirt, contains mentality-shifting messages on our humanistic worldview and the theme of justice towards God. We are at fault for trying to get something from God rather than give to Him the justice He deserves. The message ends with the Moravian prayer: May the Lamb who was slain receive the reward of His suffering.
I encourage you to listen to this dynamic message packaged in an old recording: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76BUB9IchNU
Despite our two outreaches each week to the restoration home, womens' shelter, and outreaches on the street, I still wish I could do more. I know that my program is focused on education, but I become impatient and want to do something more. I don't like feeling helpless.
I need to be still and know that He is God. Nothing goes unnoticed by Him and His heart is grieving far more than mine. There is a time for learning, and a time for pouring out. I can't fix all the problems. I can't immediately change our faulty laws that criminalize a prostitute despite her complete control and abuse under a pimp. I can't mend the broken families in this neighborhood that create the runaway and broken girls. I can't end the production of porn that fuels sexual exploitation. If I didn't give these feelings of heaviness and sorrow to God, I would become so burdened. I have to continually remind myself of His great love and through that, love these girls, love the johns, and love the pimps.
I may become momentarily mad, but I can't remain in that state. God's love is too big.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Jalepenos and heart surgery
It's about time for another update....
Last week was full of surprises: my YWAM friends celebrated my 22nd birthday complete with cake, presents, balloons, and blessings. Speaking of celebrating a birth, our DTS leaders announced that they are expecting their first baby! We love birthdays and babies.
Local outreach is challenging. Each week, a group of us go to a womens' home for dinner and fellowship to minister to women who have come off the streets, out of strip clubs, and struggled with drugs and alcohol. It's heartbreaking to return and discover that women we were bonding with have left the program early and are probably returning to their former life. Last Friday night's outreach on the streets resulted in much "seed planting:" we had great conversations and made contacts. However, the spiritual atmosphere was incredibly dark and heavy: I know it may sound odd, but we could most definitely feel the spirits of evil.
A DTS is not easy. Each week, I feel like I'm going through heart surgery. I think this fifth week was the first week I haven't cried. We've completed one-third of the lecture phase, and I think we're finally getting rid of the junk we've been carrying around and now can focus on re-filling our hearts with truth. We've changed so much, though it certainly hasn't always been comfortable change. It's like a painful workout: it hurts so much it feels good.
Now that the weather is beginning to cool down (only 95 degrees at 8pm instead of 105 degrees!) I am trying to run again. I have missed running, so I am tickled to death that I can run outside without inhaling hot smog. This working-out indoors is not my cup of tea; I prefer to be outside versus jumping up and down in front of a computer screen.
Besides working out, hair-dyeing, tea parties and dance parties, we found a new way to have fun: jalepeno eating and jalepeno juice-drinking contests. Needless to say, we only had one contest, due to severe after-effects. Himmat stuffed jalepenos inside his piece of cake, then proceeded to drench the cake in the pepper juice. Repeat again. After those two pieces of scorching cake, he and Sadie then drank the jalepeno juice. Bad idea. The rest of us were cheering them on before making an "I'm sorry we made you sick" card.
A few details about our outreach in Asia.... We will be in Mumbai, India for 12 days and will be working in Kathmandu, Nepal, 38 days. For our trip, I need to purchase a trekking backpack, winter jacket and hiking boots. I have priced these online, and each are going to cost roughly $100. If you feel led, you can "sponsor" any of these three items for my trip by sending a check and mentioning the item in the memo line. Below is my wishlist and address.
I feel like a kid making her Christmas gift list.
Outreach wishlist:
Hiking boots
Winter jacket
Trekking backpack
My address:
Katie Hudson
C/O YWAM
P.O. Box 36606
Las Vegas, NV
89133
Last week was full of surprises: my YWAM friends celebrated my 22nd birthday complete with cake, presents, balloons, and blessings. Speaking of celebrating a birth, our DTS leaders announced that they are expecting their first baby! We love birthdays and babies.
Local outreach is challenging. Each week, a group of us go to a womens' home for dinner and fellowship to minister to women who have come off the streets, out of strip clubs, and struggled with drugs and alcohol. It's heartbreaking to return and discover that women we were bonding with have left the program early and are probably returning to their former life. Last Friday night's outreach on the streets resulted in much "seed planting:" we had great conversations and made contacts. However, the spiritual atmosphere was incredibly dark and heavy: I know it may sound odd, but we could most definitely feel the spirits of evil.
A DTS is not easy. Each week, I feel like I'm going through heart surgery. I think this fifth week was the first week I haven't cried. We've completed one-third of the lecture phase, and I think we're finally getting rid of the junk we've been carrying around and now can focus on re-filling our hearts with truth. We've changed so much, though it certainly hasn't always been comfortable change. It's like a painful workout: it hurts so much it feels good.
Now that the weather is beginning to cool down (only 95 degrees at 8pm instead of 105 degrees!) I am trying to run again. I have missed running, so I am tickled to death that I can run outside without inhaling hot smog. This working-out indoors is not my cup of tea; I prefer to be outside versus jumping up and down in front of a computer screen.
Besides working out, hair-dyeing, tea parties and dance parties, we found a new way to have fun: jalepeno eating and jalepeno juice-drinking contests. Needless to say, we only had one contest, due to severe after-effects. Himmat stuffed jalepenos inside his piece of cake, then proceeded to drench the cake in the pepper juice. Repeat again. After those two pieces of scorching cake, he and Sadie then drank the jalepeno juice. Bad idea. The rest of us were cheering them on before making an "I'm sorry we made you sick" card.
A few details about our outreach in Asia.... We will be in Mumbai, India for 12 days and will be working in Kathmandu, Nepal, 38 days. For our trip, I need to purchase a trekking backpack, winter jacket and hiking boots. I have priced these online, and each are going to cost roughly $100. If you feel led, you can "sponsor" any of these three items for my trip by sending a check and mentioning the item in the memo line. Below is my wishlist and address.
I feel like a kid making her Christmas gift list.
Outreach wishlist:
Hiking boots
Winter jacket
Trekking backpack
My address:
Katie Hudson
C/O YWAM
P.O. Box 36606
Las Vegas, NV
89133
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