A Mother's Cry

The mission trip is over so why am I still blogging. Strange as it may seem for me this is part of my processing so I hope you don't mind reading my musings. Some times I feel inspired to write when I receive a 'divine' impression. I suppose I could journal this quietly but part of my sharing it is my way (I hope) of acknowledging what God is doing in my life and trust that it will be a blessing to those who would seek to speak up for those who have no voice.

It is easy for all of us who go on mission trips to just keep our journal thoughts to ourselves. We want to keep it private and I believe there is a place and time to do that. There are some things that are just simply too raw to share with the whole world and we need to be selective of what we share and to whom, as God deposits certain treasures to us. Yet, there are other emotions that I think are worthwile commenting on that I believe serve to bless the greater body of Christ. Missions after all is not just for ourselves but we are blessed to be a blessing not just to the people we go to serve and minister to but I believe we have a responsability to the many here who have joined us in partnership whether through their prayers, their words of encouragement and/or through their financial support. This in part is the role of a mobilizer and I believe that all who go overseas whether short term or long term are also mobilizers in God's kingdom. As we return and share our experiences whether individually or corporately, our comments maybe just the word that God wants someone in our midst to hear to encourage them to step out and live on the edge for Christ. THis is not about self promotion, but about acknowledging how God can use fragile vessels to do His will. It is about testifying to His goodness and giving Him honor and glory and bearing witness to the awesome privilege He bestows on those whom He has called.

Two little friends who I met last year

Okay I'll step off my soap box now and get to the real reason why I am writing this blog. This morning as I was walking from the GO station to my workplace, the words 'A mother's cry' came into my mind. I know that it was a divine thought related to an experience I had on Saturday August 1st. Some of you had received an urgent email that day from me asking prayer for a young 11 year old girl whose initials are "SN". She has a special place in my heart for over those past 3 weeks as I went to Svay Pak, she would come and hold my hand and her broken English ask how I was doing. But that Sat, I would find out that she had come to church asking for help. One of her parents was coming the next day to take her up to a northern city and it was not for a holiday. No, she had been to this place before and sadly it was to a brothel owned by a family member. Pastor Chantha had noted that each time she went and returned, they would have to take her to a medical clinic for treatment. It is one thing for us to read about girls who are trafficked but it is another thing to be faced to face with one little girl who I had come to know and who was seeking God's help by coming to His sanctuary and telling the pastor that she didn't want to go.


What does one do when confronted with the reality of child sex trafficking? One of my team members had joined me that day in Svay Pak along with another Canadian missionary who had been in Cambodia for 6 months and wanted to learn more about Rahab's house. So we sat inside Rahab's house formed a circle and began to pray over SN as she sat on my lap. My emotions were at best raw, tears streaming down my eyes as I cried out to God for a miracle, to intervene on behalf of this one whose life was tethering on the brink of entering into the darkness again. SN is one of the lucky few who has been sponsored to go to local school but she is also actively involved in the Sunday school children's program at Rahab's house. Each Sunday she comes and performs with the other kids singing songs about Jesus. Her faith in Him no doubt is growing and so my tears reflected the anguish within my soul at what would await her if the God she so worshipped and sang about each week did not intervene.

That day I left Svay Pak not knowing whether I would see her the next morning at church. My heart heavy as I tried to compose myself for the ride back into town. My two travel partners talked in the van, while I sat silently listening to music in my IPOD. We arrived back at our hotel and I headed back into my room, unable to think about anything else, not hungry but feeling compelled to get on my knees again and pray for the soul of this little one who had become so dear to my heart.Oh God if there is ever a time for a miracle it is now. SN needs to see you as her fortress, her protector. It is the words of Psalm 37 that become my prayer for SN and for this situation.

Do not fret because of evil men or be envious of those who do wrong; for like the grass they will soon wither, like green plants they will soon die away. Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy great peace. The wicked draw the sword and bend the bow to bring down the poor and needy, to slay those whose ways are upright. But their swords will pierce their own hearts, and their bows will be broken. For the power of the wicked will be broken, but the LORD upholds the righteous.

It so happened that night that my roommate was with some other team members and so for 3 hours I sat thinking, journalling and praying. It's a strange kind of feeling wanting to be alone and yet desperate as well to talk to someone and share this burden. Thankfully as I logged in on skype, I saw one of my mentor's online. It was her words that spoke truth to my heart. It was words that give meaning to the emotion that I was struggling to express. As I shared with her my encounter from that day she simply said 'Lisa, God has made you a mother to the motherless. This is your calling. As you said in your blog, these girls are like your daughers, you know them by name, you have hugged and held them. These little girls see you and they see a true mother's love. They don't know what that looks like for it is their very mothers who are selling them. But when they see you, they see a different kind of love. A love that is borne from the very heart of God. They are seeing what a genuine and what a true mother's love looks like.'

These truths were not new to me but for some reason that night they brought solace to my soul, they gave meaning to the tension I was struggling with, they explained the tears I was shedding for I was crying like a mother who was on the brink of losing her child. A mother who was involuntarily separated from her daughter. A mother who felt helpless and yet, who knew that she had an Advocate who hears her groans and wass interceding not just for her but for those whom He has brought into her life.

One of the missionaries who was with me that day said she had never seen me so emotionally raw and was concerned for me. But this is part of the journey that God has called me to enter into. For whatever happens to these little ones, I take it personally. It always will be like that for me. For it is the way that God has called me to identify with them. I do not want to avoid the pain and anguish that goes with this ministry. It is part of the calling. It would be so easy to disengage and for my heart to grow cold but I am thankful for the gift of tears. I am thankful for the anguish and the gut wrenching cries that cause me to go on my knees and plead for His help on their behalf. I want to enter into the darkness as much as the Lord will allow me to that I may gain a glimpse of what grieves His heart. To shy away from that, is to shy away from the things that breaks God's heart. This kind of 'emotional wrecking' is good for the soul for it causes us to focus back on the One who can do the impossible. It moves us from feeling incapacitated to recognizing that we have a God whose arm is not too short to save. It causes us to be still as we wait patiently for Him to act. We find consolation and an uncanny peace in His promises when the visible reality seems so hopeless.

So Sunday morning came, I got up early grabbed a coffee and went for a walk around the neighborhood, all the while praying and pleading before the throne of Grace. My tears were close to the surface as I head with the rest of the team to Svay Pak for our final visit there. The heaviness in my heart still there. I wonder if I will see SN again but God has told me the night before that everything will be all right but there is a part of me that doubts. He was right, she was there dressed in her usual school uniform, performing with the rest of the kids. This time round the rest of our team gathered around her and her grandmother. We laid hands on them again and prayed for God to do only what He could do and that is protect her from those who would seek to harm her. I give her my cross and my pendant with my name on it. I want her to know that the Jesus she is now following, is the One who will watch over her and just as He has surrounded the mountains of Jerusalem so He will surround her. I want her to know that while I am leaving, I am going to be praying for her daily. That I will not forget her nor will God forget her. One of my teammates gives her an angel statute and through translation tells her that God is sending His angels to watch over her. She sees my tears and takes a tissue and wipes my eyes. You would think it would be me that ought to be consoling her but it is she who is consoling me. In a strange twist, she is the angel who God had sent to comfort me. She was the strong one, I was the weak and vulnerable one. Indeed, my pastor's words' ring through---ministry is not our gift to God but God's gift to us. She is the one ministering to me at that very moment.

That morning as we left Svay Pak and I said my good bye to SN, my heart remained heavy but my soul was quieted as I entrusted her into God's hands. He loves her far more than I can ever love her. Knowing in my heart and head that He was in control, there was a peace that descended over me. The tears were no more as I gave her one last hug and waved goodbye as our van left that dusty road.

I am learning that there are burdens God calls us to own and there are others He owns. My burden is to be faithful to the process of interceding for my precious little daughter. God's burden is to watch over her and protect her and to give her a a new life of hope. When I think of SN, I claim His very words in Psalm 37:11--the meek will inherit the land and enjoy great peace. Today, SN is still safe. I keep praying. The story continues.

I realize this particular experience was not an isolated event. For I am discovering that it is part of God's plan to give me a love and a burden for this very special community in Svay Pak. For just a few days prior to that when my team members Marty and Tara were praying over me they asked what I wanted prayer for. I remember asking that Svay Pak would be my inheritance (Psalm 2:8) . I remember bent over crying and asking the Lord for the lives of each of these little ones. That they would know Him as their Lord and Savior; that they would know Him as their Defender, their Protector, their Shield, that they would discover how deep His love is for them and how precious they are in His eyes and that He would always be with them no matter what they were experiencing. This is the cry of a mother's heart, this is the cry of our heavenly Father's heart.