Ten Dollar Girl

Ten dollar girl in a ten dollar skirt
Waving ‘em down on their way out to work
Cuz the freaks don’t just come out at night, you know
You’re always on the clock in The Life of a Ho

A car pulls up
She jumps inside
And takes him for a
Dirty ride
Emerging with
A new fat lip
And fresh belt marks
On legs and hips

But no one sees
And no one cares
She’s just a “Ho”
Who rents her wares

To men
Like her father
And his friends

You see,
If we go back 12 short years before
that day the world pronounced her a
WHORE
You’ll find a baby
Newly born

But 12 years can break a soul with scorn

So perfectly precious
The world at her feet
With so much potential
For a front row seat

But the truth never found its way
Into her heart
About who she was
And all she would impart

On a world that needed her gifts
And her love
But the lies won over
When push came to shove

Her mama never loved her
And made her aware
That if she disappeared
Nobody would care
“Button that lip
While I’m beating your ass!”
And Daddy just stares at the TV

And laughs

“That show sure is funny!”
And the volume is loud
On purpose - He’s chillin’
For cryin’ out loud!

5 years old
She sleeps on the floor
Night time
Brings the sound of a door
Opening
Slowly

A virgin no more

Innocence running down her legs
Never to return again
By 7 miserable years of age
She’s full of fear and captive RAGE
She dreams of dancing on a stage

Naked

For jerks who smell like beer and talk shit
“Come over here, sweetie and show me your tits!”
Her dreams now whittled down to
THIS

But one childhood is all we get
So by the tender age of 10
She’s been with far too many men
But who can call them men anyway?
Cowards are what I would say

But age 11 . . . That was the year
Her night in shining armor appeared
Tall, smooth-talker, singing his song
Three times her age & ten times as strong
He smelled her hunger
From miles away
It won’t take much to make her play
His game . . .

Flowers
Name Brands
And a few fancy meals
She’s loving the way
This guy makes her feel
She’s crippled by his tender
Embrace
Now she’s perfectly groomed
For that hard fall from grace

Not a shot in Hell
Not a hope
Nor prayer
When he tells her
“We need money . . . Dear”

She didn’t plan on this
Surprise!
He sees reluctance in her eyes
And makes her pay
Between her thighs

She won’t make that mistake again
And thus, her new career begins
Her title: “HO”
Her clients: YOU

That’s right,
I said YOU!
The pimps and the Johns
And the lawmakers too

The apathy-stricken
And those who will quicken
To condemn and to judge the used and abused
As though they were begging to be ill-accused
And shun a child who carries a shame
That belongs to a fool of another name

I’m talkin’ ‘bout YOU
The cops on the street
That treat them like a piece of meat

And neighbors on the brothel street
Who don’t report the things they see
And moms and dads who grave neglect
You set them up as first elect
For predators to leave them wrecked
For Life . . .
Is it over yet?

Doing “Life” at 12 years old
In ruthless heat
And bitter cold
When she should be goin’ to birthday parties
Doing homework and playing with Barbies

But she fell in love with a hustlin’ monster
Who did what good people don’t seem to want to
He told her nice things
And made her feel loved
And showered her with
Kisses and hugs
And gave her the things
Her poor heart dreamed of
Then

BAM!

It was over
Honeymoon no more
One day a child
Next day a whore
More lost and empty
Than ever before

Promises
Promises
She believes
She can’t afford to hurt
Or grieve
Last trick of the night and then she’s done
This makes number 21

Night falls on the busy street
Where friends and lovers come to meet
She watches as they walk on past
And hears a whisper . . .
“Free at Last!”

And Hope comes rising in her throat
Maybe one day
I can be like those people
Who walk past every night
And see no evil

But unfriendly eyes
Feed her lies
She swallows them whole
And they poison her soul

Those hypocrite eyes tell her
“Girl, get real!
You’re trash and nobody cares how you feel!”
They’re right, she thinks
I’m a Ho and so what?
At least I get paid for being a slut!
These squares on the street,
With their big fancy jobs and their big, fancy suits
They’re just big, fancy snobs!

They can keep their square-ass livin’
The street is where I wanna be chillin’
I don’t want to be no stupid bride
Having babies and jobs . . . and pride

She no longer feels human
Just a shell to be used
By an endless line of dirty old men
Just like her father
And his dirty old friends

Who use her up like a 50 cent condom
Then they go home and kiss the cheek of their daughters
One gets a kiss, the other ten dollars
“If that’s who they are, I don’t need no dam father”

Yes this is the glamorous, high-living world
Of a scandalous, criminal 12-year old girl...

FLY . . . .

O Firefly, Bright Firefly

Please let me join your flight     

And cheat that bitter darkness

On the wings of Truth & Light

O Bluebird, Lovely Bluebird
When you perch so near to soul
I long to wear your cobalt shade
And sing in colors bold

O Butterfly, Sweet Butterfly
Don’t leave me far behind
Calling out in agony
To a world that’s deaf and blind

Just take me when the evening light
First shows her lovely face
Into the mystery of night
And leave no sign or trace

Of anything I ever was

And what little that remains

And dance me into vapor

Slipping softly from my chains

Praying Over “The Incident”

To the young man in the parking lot who sat in his car doing something highly inappropriate while my daughter and I were getting back in the car:

You are very fortunate that my 10-year old daughter did not see what you were doing in your car because it would’ve taken all I had not to drag you out of your seat and go  Chuck Norris on you in public with your pants down.  That being said, I am thankful for all of us, but mostly my daughter, that she will grow another day closer to adulthood without having been scarred by things children should never have to see.  

I want you to know that even though it made me angry and I did not hesitate to call the cops on you, I know you will most likely not be caught for your actions and that makes my heart heavy.  Not because I want to see you punished, but because I want to see you healed.  I don’t know your story.  I don’t know why you did what you did today or how long you have been doing things like this or what other types of inappropriate things you may do now or in the future if something doesn’t stop you in your tracks.  I just know that punishment alone will not heal it.  So my prayer for you is this:

“Father, I saw one of your beloved children struggling today and you saw it too.  What he did hurt himself and others and I ask you to reveal that to him and give him the courage to seek the help he needs to overcome his struggle.  People think it’s funny, God.  But you are not laughing.  You see the pain and terror behind it.  Please show this man how much you love him and that he matters in this world and that you had more planned for him than THIS.  Please allow him to look at his own face in the mirror and see Jesus looking back at him.  Give him your glory in place of his shame and send him out into the world to help others who struggle in similar ways because Lord, you and I both know, there are FAR TOO MANY JUST JUST LIKE HIM.”

AMEN.

Dancing With My Purpose

Even though I am a sensitive and emotional creature, I would not have expected to leave a 25-minute dolphin show at Sea World with ambivalent tears filling my eyes.  It just didn’t seem to fit the commercial spectacle that enters my mind when I think of Disney and all that engulfs its grandeur.   I was expecting a few thrilling dolphin tricks and cheeky drama peppered with corny jokes.  But I walked away from my seat with a more pronounced presence of some of life’s most quiet, yet glorious triumphs and my deepest longings, some of which will serve a life sentence in my body as such.  

The show was presented as a story, told with song and dance.  I watched the dancers move with grace as they performed in and out of the water.  Some of the dancers were dressed as beautiful birds and were attached to cables that allowed them to blow through the air with such finesse that one might briefly forget that humans were not made to fly.  They did things that didn’t seem possible and I kept thinking what a unique and wonderful job they have.  Not every person can say that they dance with and ride dolphins or do acrobats and fly through the air several times a day for a living!  You know that whoever does that job didn’t just stumble upon that.  They are doing what they were meant to do with reckless abandon.  That brought me comfort to see people doing what they love and it gave me hope that my daughters will always follow their hearts with the careers they choose, knowing that if they trust their purpose and their gifts, everything else will fall into place.  

I know the prison of wasting God-given gifts on a job that doesn’t fit those gifts.  I also know the freedom of walking away from such a job and the safety net it provided and not looking back.  Years ago, I took a leap of faith from a secure job at a time when I most needed the money and security of that job and traded it for an inferior salary.  But what I got in return was a confirmation that I was meant to bring encouragement and hope in the dark and lonely places of this world - and there will never be a shortage of dark and lonely places.  That leap of faith brought me face to face with my true purpose in life and reunited me with some of my deepest passions:  people, creativity, writing and so much more.  I will never be the same after being placed in nursing homes environments to plan parties, do exercise programs, go on outings and leisure rides, listen to amazing stories that bathed me in humility and so much more.  I made many lifelong friends and even though most of them have passed on, I carry them with me and am a better person for having known them.

I had no idea at the time how much I would be changed and affected by that one decision.  It wasn’t just the job itself that changed me.  It also changed my relationship with God.  He found me in a desperate moment and gave me an opportunity to change my circumstances but it was not going to come without a risk.  By the world’s standards, it made no sense at all to take that job and its enormous pay cut.  His timing was perfect because He knew that I would not take that leap unless I had become so miserable that the risk would be worth the consequences.  The only thing He required of me was that I trust Him and His plan for me - He took care of the rest and exceeded my expectations.  I learned through that experience that He will never lead me in the wrong direction and that He wants the best for His children.  I also learned that we are often clueless as to what “the best for us” even means because we measure  it by meaningless piles of dust that will one day be blown away and forgotten.  I want to follow a plan that has meaning and that bears spiritual fruit that lasts forever.  

The current season I am in has found me at yet another crossroads in life and, true to my nature, misery and inadequacy are creeping in to entice me toward the road less traveled.  My Father knows me so well!  He knows I’m a coward and that it will take more than simple trust to get me to move.  I am like an Israelite, too busy whining about having to eat Manna in the desert to remember that I was once a slave, rescued and delivered from captivity and I am now free.  That path is calling in the same way the colorful birds, dancers and dolphins in that theme park show were calling me.  I watched them all doing the things they were made to do - some were flying, some were swimming, some were dancing and together they brought it all to life and sent it out into the world to penetrate hearts like mine.  

I had been dancing with my purpose for a while but somewhere along the way, I could not hear life’s music and I lost its lead.  When I saw those beautiful birds flying all around me like a winged ballet, I heard the music and heard my purpose calling:  “Come, take my hand again and dance with me.  No matter what song life plays - whether sad, joyful, sultry, full of rage or worship, I will lead you through each and every one.  Stay close to me.  Follow me.”  

The Gift of Being Vulnerable

He was a lively, animated young boy, only a few months away from reaching his first decade of life and I was newly married and in my late twenties.  I had seen him around before, but since I had no children of my own, I did not know him or other children who lived in the neighborhood.  If I had known then the degree to which he was about to change my life as he approached our house, I might have run inside and hid behind my sofa.  But that’s not what happened.  

The moment he said hello, I was captivated by his charm and congeniality.  He explained to us as we stood in our front yard that he recently discovered we had a mutual acquaintance and was seeking confirmation, which he received.  The conversation’s momentum took off from there.  Before I knew it, the boy and I were covering a multitude of topics and when he mentioned his favorite book, The Mouse and Motorcycle by Beverly Cleary, I gasped in pleasant disbelief at yet another thing we seemed to have in common.   I adored that book when I was his age and had forgotten that it even existed.   I hadn’t spent much time talking with children in those years and as I watched him trot back to his home at the end of our street, I remembered what it felt like to be nine years old again and how easy it was to establish a new friendship over a very brief period of uncomplicated conversation.   

It was almost nine o’clock that night when I heard the doorbell ring.  As I opened the door, there was my new friend standing barefoot in the chill of that October night, holding out his beloved copy of The Mouse and the Motorcycle.  It was a gesture that has stayed with me ever since.  I read the entire book (again) that night to secure my confidence in discussing it with him the following day.  The rest is history.

Over the next years, I would grow to love this boy, along with his five siblings and his many, many friends like they were my own children and since my husband and I hadn’t planned on ever having children of our own, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to play the role of an “unofficial aunt”.   Our lives were now filled with cherished, young souls because of this one boy.  These children helped us with projects, they spent hours in our living room drawing pictures (which I still have), they accompanied me to work to assist me in running programs and activities for residents of a local nursing home and so much more.  They filled my days with sunshine and made my heart ebb and flow in ways it never had before.  But the more I came to know the kids in my neighborhood, the more I came to know about their struggles and the painful unfairness that some of them knew all too well.  During those years, I witnessed the courage of a resilient young man who used his gift of humor and wit through a tracheostomy tube that altered his voice, yet gave him life-sustaining breath.  I was faced with having to make a decision on how to respond to a neighborhood child’s plea for $10 after being told that if he didn’t come home with some money, he would be beaten.  I visited another young and troubled boy in the hospital after he accidentally shot himself in the stomach while trying to impress his friends.  I was given several opportunities to tell that same young man how special and necessary he was in this world and had to watch in agony as he continued on his destructive path, refusing to believe he was here on this earth to do anything other than take up space.  

I remember joining a few of these kids on the corner of a busy street just days after the attacks of September 11, 2001, holding candles in one hand and our hearts in the other as cars drove past and honked to express their pride and sorrow.  I saw the worry in a father’s eyes as he shared with me that his daughter was dating an older boy who was selling drugs and only partly understood the degree of panic that a parent might feel over such a discovery.  I was given opportunities to just be present, listen and encourage these kids with their best interest in mind, yet I was sheltered from the unbearable emotional load it can place on a person when it is your own child who is in danger.  Nevertheless, I had been broken enough to be changed by the truths I now knew and my life had suddenly become saturated with the aroma of an entirely new kind of love.  If I had been given an opportunity to turn back to that fateful, October day and hide behind my sofa so that I could continue living in ignorant bliss, I would not only refuse, but throw my sofa to the curb.  These children awakened something from deep within my soul and they have taught me some valuable lessons:  1) They taught me that love is not always about feeling good, in fact it is not about feeling at all.  It is a deliberate act of “doing” something loving or “being” a loving person for someone else’s benefit.  2)  They showed me that the world is ravenous for a little love and a little goes a long way.  3) They helped me see that there was more in me to give than I realized, despite my lack of experience and many insecurities and shortcomings.

They gave me a tiny glimpse of what it means to be made vulnerable by someone else’s vulnerability and how much courage it takes to truly love.  I would never be the same after meeting that boy and the many lives he brought across my path and within a few years, my heart had been so deeply impacted by them all, that I had convinced myself and my husband to courageously enter into the chaotic and heartbreakingly beautiful realm of parenthood and we have been blessed with two amazing daughters of our own as a result.   As if my cup were not overflowing enough, these neighborhood kids also inspired me to make the empowerment and spiritual growth of youth my life’s mission.

The kids we knew then have all blossomed into young adults and that old neighborhood is now bustling with the hopes and dreams of a new generation.  Some we have lost touch with and some we haven’t.  I have returned to those streets a few times over the years for a moment of nostalgia, but there are few recognizable signs of life as we knew it not so long ago.  Even our old house looks different.  But I can still see each of their beautiful faces parading around on the streets of my heart, where they made themselves at home years ago.  It is the one place on this side of heaven where we never parted and where I can visit with them any time I wish.  

Christmas Day, 2011 - Closing Thoughts

As I look back through nearly 400 pages of my journal for 2011, I can clearly see that this year did not go as I had planned or expected.  I can’t help but laugh at myself for even having an expectation for the year when I think about all the times God has repositioned my course about as fast as I could chart it!  This Christmas was more of the same - it did not go as planned.  I didn’t have the energy that I normally have for the holidays this year and half of what usually gets done did not come to pass.  There are still boxes of decorations sitting in the basement hallway that never got put up, Christmas letters yet to be addressed and pounds of holiday chocolates that were never made or given out (a longstanding family tradition of ours).  Martha Stewart would want to punch me in the mouth.  

Those things were smaller matters though (even for a Christmas-lover like me).  What I was most excited about were our plans to make Christmas more meaningful by serving those in greatest need in our community on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but a couple of viruses kept that from happening.  I was disappointed and unprepared for that and have been sitting here trying to think of something else we could do here at home that would help my daughters appreciate the gift of Christmas more than what they received in their stockings.  

I have been reminded that these things don’t happen in one day.  They happen over the days that make up a week, a month, a year and a lifetime.  We grow closer to Christ through our daily choices of whether or not we will spend time with Him or follow His lead.  It is our attitudes and what we choose to accept that make us more grateful for His willingness to leave His throne and face the torments & discomfort of living in earthly flesh just to pardon us from atrocities we would commit against our own Savior.  

So, on this Christmas Day, we are pausing in between the presents, the naps, the sore throat gargles and Pepto Bismol shots and the meal that some of us may or may not be able to eat to look back on what we have and have not done to stay connected to the One who gives us life and who leads us beside still waters even though we sometimes have to trudge through the swamp to get there.   We take a moment to pray for the strength to make real adjustments to our faith and for the understanding of what is at stake when we choose to act apart from His will .  

Very little in this life seems to go as we plan for them to.  Even last night, as I received an Amber Alert on my phone about a 2-year old boy who had been abducted by a murder suspect, my heart sunk and as  I thought about what this boy’s family was having to wrap their minds around on Christmas Eve.  I had little hope for his safe return home as each minute passed.  But I awoke to find that our prayers had been answered and this boy was indeed safe at home.  It made me think back to a few months ago to an extra-special gift that My Father poured out on me while chaperoning a middle-school field trip to a team-building obstacle course.  When I arrived and introduced myself to other parents who were also going along, I recognized one of the dads in the group, but could not place where I knew him from.  Later, I watched him and other students shouting out encouragement to his daughter who was climbing a tower in the pouring rain.  “Go Sam!”  They shouted.  Then it hit me.  I was suddenly taken back to when Sam was in the second grade and had been diagnosed with a brain tumor after having countless unexplained seizures and other complications.  She and her family endured a highly invasive brain surgery among countless days of hardship and worry.  I had taught some of her Bible classes, brought food to their house and my daughters and I had prayed constantly for this sweet girl, who was the same age as my own daughter.  The entire church was lifting them up in prayer and doing everything we could to encourage and support this struggling family but we all still felt so helpless.  We never plan on such a thing to happen to our own children.  But Sam pulled through the surgery and the last I knew, she had been doing well.  At some point, we lost touch with this family and I had no idea she and my oldest daughter were now attending the same middle school.  But there she was - the girl we cried over, prayed for and feared for - climbing a tower in the pouring rain while her classmates and father cheered her on.  As I stood there, face streaked with raindrops and tears, shouting out her name with everyone else, I felt like God was placing a priceless gift in my hand.  We don’t always get to see how our prayers may be answered but this was a special blessing that no amount of rain could water down.  I have seen her a couple of times at school since then.  She walks with a limp and one of her arms doesn’t move so well - the unfortunate aftermath of the severe brain surgery.  I am not sure if she has other complications as a result of all that her health has been through (but I suspect she does), but what I do know is that she is a far stronger person than I will ever be and I am inspired and encouraged by her humble, yet fighting spirit.  She reminds me that “I can” when I think “I can’t” and even more importantly that “God can”  when I think “He won’t”.  

Things will never go quite as I plan for them to, and when they don’t, I need to remember that I am not the one running this thing and that I was not put here for my own satisfaction and comfort.   This was not my favorite year - it was hard and 2012 does not promise to be any better but much fruit is being sown through these difficult times for His Glory.  I may never see most of that fruit in this life, but this is not the time to reap and feast.  The reaping and feasting wait for me at the finish line.  May we all be equipped for the tasks that lie ahead of us in 2012 and offer our hands to those who fall down weary in the middle of the field.  Unexpected blessings to you in 2012!

God Loves You & Deja Brew! Christmas 2011

From the outside looking in, it’s an artsy, community-centered coffee shop where you can get a great cup of coffee with a smile.  But if you’ve spent much time inside those doors you already know that it is so much more than that.  At first, I thought I was the only one who had come to need this place far more than I needed that caffeinated, mid-morning pick-me-up.  But I have come to learn that there are many who flock to this haven for far more reason than a great cup of Joe.  To be perfectly honest, this last year or so has been one of the most painful and challenging years of my life and I found myself withdrawing from underneath my supportive umbrella of friends and family, partly to spend some extra time alone with God and partly because it’s just what I do sometimes.  There were days when I felt like there was no place on this earth where I truly belonged – except here. 

The owners (Tom & Lisa Nichols) and amazing staff of Deja Brew Coffee House, as well as so many of the regular customers have become a treasured family to me and I have walked through those doors every day (yes, I go there on a daily basis – don’t judge, just come see for yourself why) feeling like the people behind the counter are genuinely happy to see me - not because I am handing them my debit card or putting a tip in the jar – but because I matter to them.  I have been treated like a family member from the very beginning.  They notice when I am not myself, no matter how good I think I am at hiding it and they are quick to offer an encouraging word or a comforting hug when I didn’t always have the courage to ask for it.  If there was ever a time when I would be in such need of that kind of a welcome on a daily basis, this year would be one of those times. 

I have shed many mournful and joyful tears inside those walls and prayed many a prayer with a variety of people – sometimes people I had just met.  I have laughed until I thought I might cry and cried until I laughed (and been laughed at as well).  We have exchanged “back in a day” stories and current battles that we only wish were behind us and walked away shaking our grateful heads over how it is possible that we are all still smiling and breathing today! 

As lovers of art and music, my family and I have enjoyed many a Saturday night mingling with some very talented and fun musicians and spectators at Open Mic Night.  It was here my daughters found the courage to sing in front of a crowd and received so much encouragement and support for doing so.  What a gift to a mother who deeply desires for her daughters to find and use their talents and to make no apologies for exercising the personal freedom required to share them with the world! 

Because of a foundation that Lisa & Tom started, we have had the honor of seeing a community rise up and rally around a remarkable young man and his equally remarkable family to raise funds that would help propel him to a position of command and triumph over a condition that has a grip on his physical body but is no match for his brave heart.  My daughters and I have been changed and inspired by this delightful young man’s courage and determination through an uphill battle that would discourage most.  But this is no ordinary boy and what he and his family have accomplished as a result of the support that was so freely given through this local coffee shop is nothing short of a miracle. 

This same community of exceptional people of all backgrounds and ages has supported me and a cause that means everything to me.  They have selflessly offered their time and skills to raise funds and awareness for how we can better serve and protect the youth of our community and help those who have already suffered unthinkable abuse and neglect.  As if that were not enough, my own daughters watched God exceed their expectations last Christmas through the support of Deja Brew when they welcomed us to use the coffee shop to display homemade gifts and chocolates that they worked hard on to raise funds to provide a well for a drought-stricken village in Kenya.  They originally set out to raise $200 for a water pump, but God was calling us to take him out of the box and to believe He is who He says He is, so we asked for a $2,600 well instead that would provide much more water and freedom for our neighbors in Africa.  He showed my daughters that He is a God who does exceedingly and abundantly beyond what we ask through Deja Brew and so many cherished friends and family who supported that effort.  By early spring, a check was on its way to World Vision for $3,900 because He is God and because God blesses us, His children, with more of the same – His children.   

He often shows up to comfort or pursue us with His fierce, crazy love through the people He puts on our path.  He knows I sometimes fall off the radar and withdraw from people, but even my pitiful coping strategies cannot stop His love from finding me.  So He used my latte-lust to lure me right back into His comforting, healing arms.  That is exactly what this coffee shop has been to me – every time I walk through that door, it is as if He is reminding me that I am loved, that He sees me and that He wants to bless me.  Every time my “Deja Brew family” greets me with a needed hug, includes me on some inside joke, shares their “Twinkie Rap” songs with me, invites me to a special event in their life, flaunts their soft hair for all to touch, blesses me with their creative/musical gifts or whatever else it may be, I am hearing the whisper of God sweetly saying “I love you and you are never alone, so keep going.” 

Oh and did I mention that they have outstanding coffee?

  

Merry Christmas and may your eyes be ever-seeing the many ways that God pursues you with His love and

wants you to know that you are never alone.