Sugarless

I speak of things that need to be heard.

I’ve never been a woman who speaks for the sake of speaking, or the satisfaction of sharing what I think or feel to try and convince others to jump on my religious bandwagon.

This is not because I have nothing to say, I am careful to speak from a place of Love, truth and intention. My beliefs, thoughts and feelings are my own, and I only share them with those who I can trust to hold them safe and sacred.
Sometimes, like now, I spill them onto a page and weigh if they are words that will support others from a position of Love and encouragement. Letting them know that they are not alone on this journey.
There are other times I share because what I have to say needs to be heard and understood.

I’ve spent my life as an introverted empath. I watch, I pay attention, reading people and environments, and when I feel safe then I come out from behind my wall. Most of the time I do not feel safe.
I’m not talking physical safety, but rather an emotional and spiritual safety. Safety which as an introverted empath seems to allude me the majority of the time
I guess spiritual and emotional trauma and abuse will cause a girl like me to be more enclosed and withdrawn.

2023 has bought a shift in my life. I’m starting to realize that my voice carries some weight. The trauma and abuse silenced me, put me on mute when it comes the the things that cause me to rise up.
I am now realizing that the truth does not need to be sugar coated with religious sprinkles. Truth is truth, honest, raw and often ugly.
My life is not a perfectly curated dream world, it’s not pretty, organized or aestetically pleasing. It’s usually chaos and mayhem with a touch of ugly. My life confuses those who have their own idea of what and how the life of a missionary should look.

I am singly parenting 5 children that I did not birth. I run an organization that cares for sex workers. I am most at home sitting in a brothel, spending my time with almost naked women who are having to sell their bodies for survival. I am at ease sitting on the needle strewn sidewalk while a teenage girl shoots heroin into her veins so that she can numb the memories, the reality of her situation.
These are the places I feel most safe, these are the places where I belong. My heart and soul feel safe in drug houses and brothels because those are the places where I encounter Love on the deepest level.
There are no accolades or fanfare, no after service coffee time. I don’t have to look a certain way to meet the criteria of conformity.
All that is required is that I show up and that I take Divine Love with me.
There is no judgment from either side. I do not care that my industry friend is cuddled up on the brothel couch with me wearing nothing but her lingerie and stilettos. She knows that all I have for her is Divine Love and that is what she craves.
I do not flinch or look away disapprovingly when the teenager pushes a needle into her vein, because all I have for her is Divine Love, and that is the true drug that she craves.
I’m not going to look away, I refuse to put on blinkers or create for myself a comfortable bubble to shield my eyes from the reality of truth. Raw painful and triggering for many, I KNOW that this is where Jesus would be.

I won’t hide away for the sake of comfort and stability. I will see it and feel it all because for this I was created. I was not created for the 4 walls. I was created to take Love to those who have been muted by the church, society, the government, abuse and trauma.

When sharing my calling with others they like to throw the cliche “Voice for the voiceless” at me.
Nope.
These friends of ours are not voiceless, they have been muted. If you took a moment to truly engage from a place of Divine Love you would discover such a wealth of wisdom, strength, love, humor, pain and often encouragement.
Beautiful and profound words that are often spoken directly from heaven to comfort and strengthen the hearts of our team out of the mouths of vulnerable and broken hearted sex workers.

As an empath I try very much to not pick up the pain of our Industry friends that is laid out before us daily. It will do us no good to try to carry it for them. So we gently scoop it all up and lay it at the feet of Love, because that’s is the only place from which all of our healing comes.

Walk the line.

There is a fine and somewhat unstable line between strength and fragility. I walk that line daily.
Constantly I am told how strong I am by others, ‘I don’t know how you do it’, ‘I could never do what you do’, ‘how do you raise 5 kids alone and run a ministry?’

What they don’t realize is that I am walking the very fine line between strength and fragility.
I know I’m strong. Like I 100% get it. If I wasn’t then I wouldn’t still be here, fighting daily for my children and for those who we care for through eXpose HOPE. There are literally 100’s of times I could have quit. I could have packed it all in when others told me I should return to the uk. I could have listened to those naysayers, those ones who tried to talk me down off the wall because I was wasting my time (Nehemiah). And believe me there have been times when this life and calling has bought me to my knees, spiritually, physically and emotionally. However the strength in me would always cause me to rise up like those dry bones (Ezekiel). That strength only comes from one place and that’s the throne room. My anchor holds within the veil, within the very presence of Love. (Hebrews 6.19)
The outside of my very close circle only have the opportunity to see the strength that I carry as I fight daily.

However, the inside of my circle get to see just how fragile I am so much of the time.
There are very few who I trust with my fragility. A handful who hold my heart when the pieces are falling. Who catch me in every way when they see me start to crack.
My heart has been victim to so much abuse and trauma. She is bruised and scared and yet she still manages to pump strength.

Some see fragility and vulnerability as a weakness. It’s indoctrinated into us, especially females, that we have to be strong at all times. Don’t let them see you break, be vulnerable or fragile. We put on an armor that is not Holy, it’s just a facade to try and deter those who want to cause infliction, self doubt and pain.

“I’ve got this”, “don’t let them get to you”, “don’t let them find the chink in the armor”. Cause if they do they will use it for their benefit.

But what if we hold our heads up and decide to walk that fine and unstable line with confidence, dignity and the entitlement that we are worthy of? What would happen then?
What if we let our children see that it is ok to break sometimes? It’s ok to weep and lament. What if we decided to share our own fragility and vulnerability with those who need to see and understand that we are really no different? We are no more worthy, we are no more seen by Love than they are. And we are no more loved by Love than they are.
What if we let them see and feel the chinks in our armor facade, maybe if they could touch those broken parts of us their doubts would melt away and they would truly understand just how loved and enough they truly are. (Thomas)
When I ponder on Jesus carrying that cross, his human body already broken by the beatings and the whip, his hands and feet being nailed as the crowd cheered and his mother and close female friends wept, I see a Holy fragility that was experienced by the very son of Love. He let them see his fragility, and that fragility and brokenness translated into the purest of loves.

As I lay here writing I am in a place where my hearts fragility has become greater over the past week, and yet I have not felt this much peace and strength in years. I have felt validated by Love, and seen and so much anxiety has been lifted as I lay my fragile heart out and exposed it. I’ve come to the realization that there can be a balance.
Balance is never easy, it takes determination, confidence and strength, but I refuse to deny the fragility and vulnerability because they are just as valid and Holy.

Walk that line. Allow yourself to feel it all. And when you break, because you will, get yourself behind the veil. Regain your footing, find your balance and continue your journey.

As Johnny Cash said “I walk the line.”

I refuse to walk it with my head down.