Today

TODAY

Today, a young girl has been given no food so her brothers can eat…where is the hope?

Today, a young girl has been married off to an older man she does not know

Today, a young girl has become pregnant…too young and too small to deliver naturally

Today, a young girl, grieving the loss of her stillborn child, has just woken up in her bed soiled with urine and feces…bewildered and ashamed

Today, a young girl has been left by her husband, kicked out of the house by her family, and forced to fend for herself due to her odor

Today, a young woman realized it is her 10^th year of lying in a wet bed…hope continuing to vanish

Today, an older woman struggles through her 40^th year with fistula, sitting alone in her hut unaware that a cure exists

Today, a woman cleans herself in the hope that a neighbor in her village may say “Hi” today…hope is not lost yet

Today, a woman is traveling alone on her way to a hospital, leaking with every step but not turning back, holding onto hope of a cure, a new life

Today, a young girl is carried on her father’s back to reach a hospital to be cured of fistula…feeling loved along the way

Today a woman recovers in a hospital bed, cured of fistula…hope returning

Today, a young girl returns home in new clothing after a successful fistula surgery

Today, a woman makes a home in a new community, free of fistula and its horrors

Today, a woman is welcomed back to her former community as a whole person…hope restored

Today, a young girl is given food to eat alongside her bothers

Today, a young girl is given the chance to study and learn

Today, a young girl is cherished as a gift from God and protected from the dangers in this world…hope that is real and strong

Today…

© 2012 by Brooke F Sulahian

My Son Ran for Women

The Freedom 5K was to be our first run as a family.  I was excited to get out and run alongside my husband and with our children (they would be riding in the double-wide jogging stroller…my husband would get to push).  I was also excited to involve our children (ages 4 and 6) in social activism.  The Freedom 5K was in support of Route One Ministry, which has the vision to minister to women exploited by the sex industry on the North Shore.

It’s tough to explain the sex industry and trafficking to children, so I kept it simple and told our kids we were running for women and girls in need.  In fact, before we ran, Bonnie, Route One Co-Founder and Director, shared that a friend of hers had just met a girl who was being trafficked/pimped out by her mom for cigarettes…really?  Can this really be happening?  I know it can and does all the time.  Even though God opened my eyes to the injustices of the world over two years ago, it still shocks me, still penetrates my heart, still angers me, still motivates me to do more.  Before the race, during the moment of silence as we remembered those for whom we were running, I gripped my children tightly and prayed that they would not suffer as so many children do but that they would become part of the solution.

The pinnacle of the run was when both of our kids asked if they could leave the safety and comfort of the stroller and run.  They did just that.  Our daughter ran, her 4-year-old feet, legs, and heart running for women and girls…sadly, for some girls as young as she is.  She lasted a bit then went back to ride.  However, our son ran and ran and ran.  His 6-year-old feet, legs and heart enabled him to run for women and girls.  He said, “like my sister?” and I said yes.  He smiled from ear to ear as he ran and I did too.  In the end, he ran a whole mile.  What a blessing to run one mile with my son as he and I both ran for women and girls who cannot speak for themselves, who cannot break out of their life situations, who need to know that they are loved and valued genuinely.

It is my hope that our children will grow up to value their brothers and sisters around the world, live for God and serve this world as He calls and equips them.  May our children work to make this a better place for those who have no power, no say, no rights.  May our children be part of the solution for years to come!  May our children run for those in need.

Also posted on www.hopeforoursisters.org.

© 2012 by Brooke F Sulahian

Silenced Voices - How God spoke to me through a bound wind chime

Wind chimes are one of my favorite things.  I got a new wind chime for my birthday that plays the most beautiful music.  I enjoy it for it’s music but more so for the sense of God’s presence I have when I hear it.  He sends the wind to make it play, doesn’t He?

As I ran through a beautiful neighborhood of Melrose this morning, I saw a quaint green house with a large wind chime at the front porch.  I was excited as I trudged up the hill toward the house because I was going to hear God’s music.   However, even with the cool morning wind, there was no music, no chimes, no beauty to hear.  As I got closer I saw that the chimes were bound with wire, one against the other.  The voice of the wind chime had been silenced.

I was initially saddened because I was not going to hear beautiful music.  However, God placed a different thought in my head.  The bound wind chime is like many of our sisters around the world…their voices have also been silenced.  Systematically and thoroughly, the voices of our sisters, both young and old, have been silenced due to illiteracy, poverty, trafficking, early marriage, fistula, domestic sexual exploitation, slavery, abuse and every other type of oppression and injustice.  Silenced.  So many of our sisters are unable to speak out for themselves, make their own choices, or even cry out for help.  Like the bound wind chime, they cannot use the beautiful voices God gave them.

However, we can!  No matter how timid or strong, weak or powerful, quiet or loud our voices are, they are stronger, more powerful and louder than the voices of many girls and women in our very neighborhoods and around the globe.   

Is your voice free to ring out for these sisters of ours or is your voice also bound tight with the wire of fear, guilt, a troubled past, lack of confidence or poor decisions?

I invite you to pray daily to God to give you the courage to speak out, to be the wind chime for those whose chimes have been bound.  I will be praying this prayer along with you.

May God’s wind that lovingly blows through our souls enable us to continually use our voices to ring out for the freedom of our sisters in our own towns and around the world!

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.  Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy. (Proverbs 31:8-9)

Also posted on www.hopeforoursisters.org

© 2012 by Brooke F Sulahian

The First Step

The water is still, like glass, as I sit at its edge

-       Jesus, sitting with me, encourages me to step out,

-       Step out into the water

I hesitate…

What if I slip?

What if I lose my grip?

What if my energy for this cause drains away?

What if I don’t finish just like so many times before?

What if I fail?

This still pool of water awaits my step

-       It is there for me

Can the ripples of my stepping into my pool reach pools by which others sit?

-       Can they reach pools around the world?

-       A child’s pool stilled by dreams shattered

-       A woman’s pool stilled by hope taken

-       A man’s pool stilled by options lost

-       Pools of those living under oppression and injustice

-       Pools waiting to be stirred

I stand and pause…

Will I trust Him?

Will I take the risk?

Will I go in?

Will I take this step?

I take Jesus’ hand and we step into the water

- The ripples start slowly then gain momentum…rolling away

-       I pray they become unending ripples of God’s provision sent out, leaving hearts touched, souls awakened, and the oppressed free around the world

You are sitting by your still pool

-       You are not alone

-       Is it time for your first step?

Take His hand, trust Him, and go in…

© 2012 by Brooke F Sulahian

He waits for me

Exhausted…totally burned out and done.  From what?  From trying to control my life.  Trying to find answers to tomorrow, next week and next year.  Trying so hard for a glimpse into the future.  Trying to carry what God is supposed to carry.  Feeling weighed down and spent.

While I was busily looking under rocks, behind trees, in the water of the brook, and under fallen leaves for any sign of tomorrow and trying unsuccessfully to hoist heavy blessings and burdens upon my own back, Jesus, My Savior, sat quietly on my path.  The path God created just for me.  However, I was not walking along my path.  I was frantically seeking out further information, greater insight, and more control.  I like control…at least the idea of control.

I ran myself down.  I hit the end of my rope.  I was exhausted without perspective.  I had undone myself. 

He waited patiently for me to see Him…to notice Him.  So peacefully He sat.  So lovingly He gazed at me as if He wanted to stop me but knew He needed to let me run, search, and seek what I would never find or carry apart from Him.

God knows what I can handle and He gives that to me.  Why isn’t that enough?  He created a path for me, gave me Jesus to walk along with me and the Holy Spirit to indwell me.  Why do I not trust?

When I was totally spent, I sat with Him…He held me.  He was always there yet I turned another way and sought what I thought I wanted and needed.  Could I even handle the information I sought?  I am thankful He did not waver but let me see Him as my only answer, my only need, my only rock, my only guide along my path.

I gave it all to Him…all of my roles and concerns.  I once again laid them on the altar.  My role as wife, mother, student, and activist.  I laid on the altar my husband and children…may they soar as I let go.  Everything on my plate was lovingly placed along my path so Jesus can show me how to spend my time, so He can help me pursue my path, so He can truly guide me every step of the way.  All I have belongs to Him…right?

The hold and weight on my life left in that moment and my hands were free to embrace Jesus’ hands and to walk with Him.

He waited patiently for me and will do so again, and again, and again.  I will continue to leave my path but He will be there waiting for me to return.  May I venture from my path for shorter and shorter time periods as I learn to trust Him more and more.

“Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.” (Psalm 25:4-5)

© 2012 by Brooke F Sulahian

HOPE IS THE COLOR BLUE

As I awoke this morning, I expected a dark and dreary day.  The sky was filled with rain clouds, the morning sun was nowhere to be found, there was a cold feeling all around me.  This was not the welcome of a warm, sunny, hope-filled day.

I wondered if this is how each day looks to a women or girl suffering from fistula.  For many of these beautiful women and girls, today they will be facing yet another day spent in soiled clothing, isolated from family and friends, and living, or simply existing, without any hope.  Their lives filled with dark, overcast, dreary days.

As I continued to sit with God and pondered this in my heart, wondering when the rain would begin to fall, the clouds opened up and a beautiful blue sky was revealed for just a moment.  It took my breath away and I thought of the hope God has placed in each person's heart.  I immediately prayed that each woman and girl with fistula would hold onto this hope from God, even if it seemed fleeting at times, even if it only made itself known here and there throughout the day, even if it could barely be seen through the clouds of their lives, even if it seemed to be gone, vanished forever.

We at Hope for Our Sisters, Inc., are honored to be a part of the process in providing hope for these women and girls with fistula.  This hope takes the form of a free surgery, recovery time and new clothing...a significant outward symbol of their internal healing and renewed hope.

When each of us sees a blue sky, may we remember the gift of God's hope in our hearts and seek how we can share this hope with others.  It may be in a smile, a card dropped in a mailbox, an unexpected phone call, a warm meal, or even a fistula surgery.

Hope from God is the color blue and it is shining in our hearts!  May we all find it and help others find theirs today.

© 2012 by Brooke F Sulahian

Also posted on www.hopeforoursisters.org