Birthday conversation turned into a conversation about what was on her heart: a blog she'd recently read by Ann Voskamp. It wrecked her and she shared how she was learning to process all she now knew. That night and many times since she has acknowledged, "You can't un-see what you have seen."
After the birthday shenanigans, I went to my car, preparing to drive home, but first... I pulled up the blog.
Ann's blog was about Yezidi women and their children, living in Iraq in shipping containers. The stories were gut-wrenching. The suffering, the loss and the violation these children experienced made me sick to my stomach.
In Iraq, Christian and Yezidi girls (ages 1-9) were being sold for a mere $172. That's less than a trip to Costco for me, or a really nice Harvey's Seat Belt Bag.
Often, these little girls, after being married off, sometimes over 20 times... were forced to have "surgery," believed to restore their virginity, so they can be sold off again... this time as a virgin.
Ill. I was physically ill. It is the 21st century, and human beings are still treating others so viciously, so violently and so inhumane.
That was the turning point for me.
From that day on I have been on a journey to love the "other." I have been on a journey to be with people different from me. I promised myself that I will advocate for and be in community with the oppressed, the lost, the forgotten, the orphan and the foreigner. I committed to waging peace, in my home, my family, my neighborhood, my community and my world.
Because here's the deal... all people on this planet were created by God. All people on this planet, whether you believe it or not, are loved by God. He loves you as much as He loves me. That mean's we are the same, you and I. We are loved equally and passionately by the Creator of the universe.
As the days passed I held close to that disturbing blog. I couldn't let it slip my mind for fear I would go back to my middle class, suburban home and get caught up in the laundry and the school lunches, and the impending Sandals vacation. I promised myself I would never forget.
Seemingly overnight, my quiet time became times of prayer, asking the Lord, "what am I supposed to do?" How can I justify my life and the things I have and want knowing nine year old girls are living in shipping containers and are sold for less than a pair of Nike shoes?
If I was willing, there would be no going back. In the pit of my stomach I knew...somehow these bold prayers would wreck my life. And it did.
God wrecked my life.
God has wrecked my how I spend my money. I've allotted portions of each paycheck to sponsor boys and girls through Compassion and Food for the Hungry. These kiddos have captured my heart and taught me more about sacrifice than I ever imagined.
God has wrecked my retirement plans. Suddenly working for days for a future of rest, golf, beaches and margaritas suddenly isn't so appealing any more. I find myself dreaming about my next trip to the farm fields in the Middle East where water is scarce, not because it's literally scarce but because water is withheld from neighbors over conflicts in water agreements.
God has wrecked my vacation plans. Suddenly a trip to Jordan to serve in a refugee camp with my kids or sitting in the homes of undocumented workers and sharing a meal is more appealing that an all-inclusive vacation to the Caribbean.
God has wrecked my shopping habits, as I have begun to trade in my big-box shopping lists for that of fair trade items. And He's wrecked my social media time as I have shied away from popular and loud news outlets and now prefer that of NGO's making real progress in the world for peace.
I have given up my craft room, (first world problems, I know), to make space for displaced loved ones, a foster child and a new friend, no, a new family member, from across the globe. Each vacancy in that room gives me a chance to clean and pray for the next inhabitant. Only the Lord knows who'll lay their head there next. When they show up, we'll be waiting.
God has wrecked everything... and it's more than I could have ever asked for.