Filtered by Category: From the Archives
It’s not uncommon for our therapeutic groups or conversations with the amigas to get interrupted by the inner battle that they face daily — shortened breath, uncontrollable crying, dissociation, anxiety attacks, loss of hope…and so we make space.
Read MoreFor many years, the strategy God gave WMFB was to simply be present, to be with those affected by prostitution. That strategy continues today, as groups of staff and volunteers visit local red-light districts. They go to where the women are to get to know them and form friendships with them, inviting them to the activities offered at the ministry center.
Read More"God stand in this place! Settle in my heart, take Your place and come, reign in every corner of my heart, be the Lord of my life, of my dreams, of my fears and my questions. May you be the center of everything, in every process, anoint my heart with your Holy Spirit, and pour Yourself out as oil that soaks and restores the deepest part of my being."
Read MoreA visit to Bolivia will take your breath away. Literally. When you fly into El Alto, Bolivia, you land at an altitude of 13,325 feet. Your body is taking in approximately 1/3 less oxygen than normal and it takes more energy and time to do even simple things, like walking through the airport with your luggage.
Read MorePerhaps all too often I can get caught up in the weight of this work, the difficulty of true healing processes, and thus trying to take seriously what we do, which is certainly merited. But what if the most healing, therapeutic thing we can do is to hug our child or draw together or laugh?
Read More“I wish everyone would stop talking about him like he was a drug dealer and a gangbanger. As if that makes it okay that he was killed.”
Read MoreAt Christmas-time we remember the baby Jesus, but the nativity is not about warm fuzzies. It's love amidst fear, hope in despair, and light forcing back the dark - smirking faces and off-key voices, it's all a part of the Christmas story.
Read MoreRecently, a staff member was ready to hand in his resignation after an exhausting (and rather loud) conflict with one of the women. I listened to his frustration, and realized that he was stuck seeing the small, bloody fights, but couldn't step back to see his vital place in the bigger war.
Read MoreEvery superhero has a tragic origin story, but Wanda's is absolutely horrific.
Read MoreSubsisting in the middle of urbanity, no one knew how she and her 3 children were suffering: a single mother prostituting, pregnant from gang rape, cooking on an open fire, and all 4 sleeping on one small mattress on the floor.
Read MoreAngela has worked hard to never have to return to prostitution. On average, a woman attempts to leave the streets 7 times before finally becoming free. But Angela is going strong, supporting even her grandchildren.
Read MoreThis spring, I visited Vanessa’s* to share Sunday lunch and a rite-of-passage tradition for her toddler. She received me in her stepmother’s home, one of two living relatives in her life. I cut her toddler’s hair for the first time - the hair he entered this world with – which now designates me as his godmother.
Read MoreThe story of Word Made Flesh Bolivia is one of God’s faithfulness and grace, one where loved ones have come and gone and left their mark, one of perseverance in the face of disappointment, political turmoil, sickness, severe weather and tough living. But it is also one where Hope triumphs and each small step towards transformation matters.
Read MoreI´ve been at a loss for words. Fluctuating between heartache and despair, anger and confusion, I’ve questioned our effectiveness, the possibilities of change and even God’s unfailing power.
Read MoreAs soon as I arrived, I became an emotional wreck for days, feeling the tears well up inside me at any given moment and for no explainable reason. After a sob therapy session, I took some time in the prayer room to quietly reflect - tried to breathe deeply, to quiet my body and mind that had been racing in preparation for this trip.
I began to walk the labyrinth in the center of the room, slowly following the lines set before me.
And as I walked…. I realized how very alone I feel.
Honestly, I understand why Ada was mad at God. Misfortune and disaster seem to hunt her, and it’s hard not to blame it on an all-powerful Father.
Read MoreOn a chilly Wednesday evening, a small team made its weekly visit to the red-light district, and met Vanessa.* At 28 y/o, she had resorted to prostitution a few months prior to make ends meet for her two young sons.
Read MoreI felt my soul pierced. In a physical sense, it took my breath. This was someone else’s baby, born into the world through pain and sweat and love - as special and treasured as my own daughter who was at home with a caregiver. I felt the weight of indignation descend upon me. I was witnessing a lamentable injustice, and unfortunately a common one both near and far – a child’s true identity lost.
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