What's in a name...Part I

Let's gets some definitions out of the way first:

• Phylactery: "either of two small square leather boxes containing slips inscripbed with scriptural passages and traditionally worn on the left arma dn on the head by observant Jewish men and especially adherents of Orthodox Judaism during morning weekday prayers" (Marriam-Webster Dictionary)
  
• Sneakers: a device used to torture your body by forcing your feet to hit the ground at high speeds and rapidly increasing your heart rate to a point you wish you could fall down, curl up in a ball and slowly drift off to a peaceful sleep

To be clear it isn't that I didn't like running, I hated it, with a fiery passion. Strong words yes, but honestly I could not wrap my mind around why people would don sneakers and run (please hear utter disgust and loathing in my voice when you read that word). I couldn't comprehend loving it. It was a chore, it was a literal headache and pain in my side. But, as it turns out, God would use this thing I once hated to change the way I see my life and this world, and would help me to better understand characteristics of walking with Him through it all.

In December 2011 I hopped on a plane to India with a group called As Our Own. This amazing organization rescues young girls who are at risk of being trafficked or have mothers that are currently enslaved. I had the opportunity to meet the girls they rescued and the mothers that are still tapped in the red light district. I was completely broken by God during this trip...I had never seen this level of poverty, darkness, and hopelessness before. The things I saw, the rooms I walked through where women are bought and their bodies abused will never escape my memory. Knowing that their children must hide under the bed while "Johns" come in and out all night was a horrifying reality to be confronted with.

But I also witnessed the greatest light and most amazing and glorious example of worship to our Father. I was struck by the authenticity that was before me at each service we attended. I kept hearing the words from a wonderful song ringing in my head, "with arms high and heart abandoned." Here I saw a level of physical love for God that was completely foreign but gracious and gorgeous at the same time. Some of the women I met who were still being trafficked had come to know Jesus; their smiles and the fact that their eyes were filled with hope completely shattered my reality and brought to light the idea that we can be content in all circumstances, because our contentment is not dependent on circumstances but on our Father in Heaven and the hope that He grants us through faith in Jesus Christ. I can hardly find the words to express the impact India had on my life...I left that place forever changed, humbled, challenged, and a part of me will always remain there.

Returning to the states after this trip was another experience all together. People warned me about reverse culture shock, but I am not sure that is what I experienced. I didn't feel guilty about having a car or a job or clothes or plenty of food...I was mad. Mad that slavery existed, that I had not heard about it for so long, that women were bought and sold as commodities, that children as young as 4 years old were put in duffel bags and sold on the black market to be trafficked, that no one was talking about it (this was 2011 and at that point it wasn't as big a deal in the media as it is in 2015), but most of all I was mad that God had sent me all the way to India only to remain in Houston. I didn't feel led to drop my life and go back to help with the homes or join another organization, that wasn't the point of the trip. It took me a long time to accept that I was called to Houston and to trust that God was going to use me here to affect not only my city but also India.

[To Be Continued]