Spiritual Update

Thunder Cat
Lately, i have felt a restlessness in my spirit. Don't get me wrong. My spirit is fed just by being here. By being useful, by being surrounded by family, surrounded by the love, surrounded by my Father God. But still, I can not be still. I am restless inside.I haven't quite put my finger on it yet, but i sense that a lot has to do with what the Abba Father desires to do with my heart. An answer in of itself to prayers asked.

Before I came to Ghana, I was well aware of the nature of work i had chosen to do. I knew it will affect me. S-P-I-R-I-T-U-A-L-LY. I prayed for strength to endure, heart eyes to see, the capacity to love, to help heal and for protection from the forces that i know abound to thwart the work of the Good seeking to triumph over evil. I prayed and I requested that I be prayed for. I was moved to be baptized and to publicly commit myself to allowing my Creator to transform the wretched, helpless and weak human that I am to what, in His love, He sees me to be. I prayed that He will go from being my Savior to becoming My lord and My love. I knew that without Him, I would be ineffective. Yes, i would come, gather data, analyze, write up a pretty darn good thesis and probably even present at an international conference or two. But this was not my intention. I was not without a Cause and I desired to be an instrument of Grace. Without being a vessel i would be nothing more than an empty barrel.. and here we have a saying "empty barrels make the most noise".

Before i took flight from the cold Canadian winter, I was frightened. On a multitude of levels, for a multitude of reasons. I saw the desire of the Abba to radically change my life and direction. I knew instinctively that this would hurt and as he started the process, hurt it did. But in order for him to form out of nothing, something, i needed to be willing to be unnaturally spiritually malleable. I was conscious of this, but you know and then you KNOW.. know what i mean? I had to count my everything as loss, in order to gain the Christ, and it hurt. But with the Abba's help and loving presence, count i did.

And now here I am, sitting on my bed at 4 a.m., listening to the cock crowing and the sounds of the ever present waves crashing on the shores of Osu-La Beach. Today is the day of the first full solar eclipse in eons (countdown 5 hours and 16 minutes ) and its no surprise that i cant sleep as i now ponder my spiritual journey thus far.

Yesterday, i was privileged (in a different way than my last entry), to be allowed into yet another world. This time it was the world of young female sex workers who willingly shared with me the heart-wrenching stories that have come to characterize their life's journeys. I can still hear their barely audible voices in my head, as i was led through lives filled with loss, pain and suffering. In no uncertain terms i learned through first hand accounts, the "short and long-term impact of childhood sexual abuse on individual health and the health of the community". Believe me when i tell you that each one of the stories i was privileged to hear, would break the coldest human heart.

Se-lah (not her real name), a 20 year old dark quintessential African beauty of mixed Malian and Ghanaian heritage, hugged a teddy bear as she recounted to me, her repeated experiences with "forced sex" which began at the tender age of 12. Unable to look me in the eye she stared out towards the ocean as she told me of how it came to be that she now lives a waking nightmare. My heart broke and broke and broke for her heart, which i could see and hear was broken. Had been broken. Over and over and over again. I marveled at her resiliency. Here she was standing tall, still able to dream of a better live and fighting, fighting to the breath, to keep the dream alive.

Crucify me if you must, but i couldn't help but ask my Loving Abba; Why? Why is this story repeated more times and in more places, than the grains of sand on this beach which i stand? For every bear hugging Se-lah, there are millions more whose stories remain untold. Millions whose hearts remain heavy and burdened. Millions whose Voices will NEVER be heard.

Being the well-trained qualitative researcher that i am, i turned to Se-lah and asked her the question on my mind. Why Se-lah do you think this happens?? She replied " Hmmm, I think its because the men, they see us and they think we have no value".
I repeat this question to all the other girls..
Esther's (not her real name) response: " Because omu pese omu be see ye life- because they want to ruin our lives.
Elizabeth's response: " Ebia omua ti se ye wo tooknown ntia- maybe because they feel like we are too big for our britches.." and so it went.. on and on with the other girls i spoke to. The details different, but the stories and reasons given, essentially the same.

It was then that i came to this realization. There is a conspiracy. A conspiracy to keep this world shrouded in darkness. A conspiracy to break the human spirit. A conspiracy to break the heart of God. To take the children (suffer little children to come onto me) his most precious ones, and beat the godly spirit out of them...leaving them lifeless and hopeless grrrrrr...
At that moment as if to interrupt the darkness of my thoughts with some much needed light, Se-lah laughs and it is literally music to my ears. I turn and see see the twinkle in her eyes. Her hidden child takes over and in that brief instance she lights up my world!! Ahhhhhhh!!! There is yet hope. In this dark dark dark place, there is yet hope. The eyes of my heart sees this and i know that he laugh is ordained by the Abba, to encourage her spirit and show me that there is yet hope.

But oh, how his heart must break.

Imagine you believed in a God. Imagine that you ascribe to him as having created all things. Imagine we humans are created in the likeness of this God. Imagine then, how finely tuned this Supreme Being's perceptions must be.. afterall it was through him/she/it that we came to be able to perceive our world. If i can smell a pretty flower and delight in its sight and scent with my limited ability, Imagine how heightened his experience of that same flower must be? In my mind's eye, i see sensory organs bursting into song!! Exquisitely delighted by the individual molecules stimulating every available receptor causing the mind and senses to erupt in rapturous joy at the feeling inherent in the sensory knowledge of a simple flower.. Yes! indeed!

Now imagine how a Being present in this heightened state of awareness must feel at the sight and thought of darling Se-lah and her friends all over the world. Imagine the pain, the outrage, the sadness, the heart-break, at witnessing on a global scale, the repeated mutilation of the child-spirit.. Yes, it is too big for my imagination too.

It is thoughts like these that find home in my mind and heart. So now, i guess you see somewhat the reason my spirit is so restless. Abba Father, Why? It is only natural that i return to this question... I hear no voices, no great thunderous revelations but i know that for every question like this there is an answer. My Faith in his goodness and love assures me that there is a reason. A pretty darn good one too. And because I believe I leave this question at his altar and turn my mind to the bigger and more relevant question for me, Abba Father how? How precious Daddy, do you choose to use to me in this? To reflect some of your light into this darkness? Please show me how. Please.

My spirit is restless and wants to know how and with what. It yearns to be equipped with the tools, the know-how and the Godly love necessary to work with you as you heal your children, one by one. Maybe the answer to this is simple and right under my nose. Too simple for my over-analytical mind and over-intellectualized heart to see. I am here ready, willing and through you, able. And if it is true that the answer is here, right under my very nose, then this i pray; Strip me of my barnacles and my veils. Strip me, so that i then can see, listen and in your Grace and Love, Do.
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Ink to Page, Letters to Screen; Finding My Voice Within

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Mr Caviar, Mrs Limousine