Shabby

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Through Doors of Hope

It's hard living directly across the street from what I call a "pimp house"- it's really just a brothel of sorts. One man lives there and numerous other people flow in and out all day and all night. Scantly clad women sit on the porch or walk next door to the "drug house" to get some "goods". Men with hungry eyes sit in cars as they wait their turn or await their sister or girlfriend's shift to finish. It's a horrific thing to behold day after day!

I've spent a good number of years living and working in the midst of poverty type cultures. Prostitution and drug use aren't anything new to me. But having both fill your eyes EVERY time you leave the house, sit on your porch, or glance out your window has proven to be overwhelming for my wee heart! There's hardly a time when I don't leave my door begging God to shut it down, to bring justice and freedom, or simply to burn down the house. And truly, unless the Lord moves in one of these ways, there's not any way forward (it's so common down here that the police rarely do anything about either of these "petty" crimes). If I'm honest, some days that brings rest, but most days that feels inadequate.

I work with the children and youth in this inner city neighborhood. I have numerous little girls that have been sexually abused. Most of my girls have little contact or no relationship with their daddies. The majority of the moms cycle through men. The boys in their classes speak to them in provocative and sexual ways, even in elementary school. And I can't help but see my sweet babies when I gaze at the women entering the house across the street. Unless God intervenes, such is the future that this neighborhood has to offer and awaits them. My heart isn't okay with that...

So, tonight I sat in my backyard, in what has become a little oasis of peace, and talked with my Abba again about these heavy things. As I flipped slowly through my Bible, pausing to read underlined passages and notes, I ended up in Hosea. The little token that broke through the tears into my heart was that He takes the Valley of Achor (trouble) and makes it a door of hope. He does this as He draws us out into the wilderness, and we are able to see Him as our Love and Husband. I wrote this verse on the wood I was sitting on (the beauty of pallet furniture!), and begged God to one day use this little oasis of peace to be a place where people from this neighborhood find their doors of hope! I can't wait...