In The Tent

For Masha

"Flight of the Butterfly" - Merri Pattinian

I am so angry right now, I'm crying. 

Today I heard the story of Masha. You probably did too. She is a young child who was adopted from Russia as a five year old girl. Adopted to a divorced man from the United States who requested a blond, blue eyed little girl to adopt. No one followed up after this child arrived in the US.

And for the next five to six years this child was sexually abused, raped, tortured and photographed by her adoptive father. Her pictures were distributed over the internet. She was finally rescued by the FBI after they tracked her down while investigating child internet pornography.

This child was hunted down and trafficked into the US by a pedophile.  What adoption agency could have allowed this to happen? And where the hell were they after this child was delivered to this man??

There are US Senators currently working to pass new child internet pornography laws, inspired by this very girl.  And so they should. Senator Kerry was quoted as saying that the penalties for downloading music from the internet are three times more severe than the penalties for downloading child pornography. Three times. God help us.

My heart is broken. And I am so angry. As someone who has never been able to have children, who has lost three of my own, and who has wrestled with the idea of adoption, I am sickened at the thought of someone exploiting a child who is desperate for a family. Exploiting the gift of adoption in such an evil way.

And I am horrified to think of how many other children, in my country and around the world, right now, are being trafficked and violated and abused. And I don't know what to do.

You can read and begin to educate yourself here.

God bless you Masha. You are a true hero. Courage, deep peace and wholeness be yours.

Visitation's Way

"Femme" - Patrick Ciranna

Henri Nouwen, reflecting on the relationship between Mary and Elizabeth in his book "Sabbatical Journey", writes:

"...the two women who felt oppressed and isolated suddenly realize their greatness and are free to celebrate their blessing. The two of them become community. They need each other, just to be together and protect each other, support each other and affirm each other. They stay together for three months. Then each of them is ready to face her truth alone, without fear, willing to suffer the consequences of motherhood. I can hardly think about a better way to understand friendship, care and love than 'the way of the visitation'. In a world so full of shame and guilt, we need to visit each other and offer each other a safe place where we can claim our freedom and celebrate our gifts. We need to get away once in awhile from the suspicious voices and angry looks and be in a place where we are deeply understood and loved. Then we might be able to face the hostile world again, without fear and with new trust in our integrity."

Mary and Elizabeth, both pregnant in the most unbelievable and seemingly impossible situations, finding rest and safety and encouragement and strength in each other before the physical labor and birth of their babies. They were expectant. They prepared for their own births but also waited in expectation with each other. They honored what each had been through to bring them to this point, and sat, offering their presence and love, waiting and believing in what was to come for the other.

As I read this, I too was sitting, waiting. My best friend was in an emergency room, three thousand miles away, with severe abdominal pain.  Fortunately, it was nothing too serious and she was home in a few hours. But the sitting and waiting was horrible. A fate worse than death when you're a "go-er" like I am. When you find out something is wrong with someone you care about, you go. You don't wait for a call, you don't wait to find out what's happening, you just go. But this night, I couldn't do that. So I did the next best thing, which was to sit up til all hours of the night and pray and wait for her to call. In some small way I felt like I was there, the gift of presence when you're three thousand miles away.

Mary and Elizabeth offered the gift of presence to each other as they prepared for their physical labor and birth. And then I thought about how so many I know are on a journey of a different kind. Birth, but of the emotional kind. The spiritual kind. Laboring through pain, woundedness, loss, towards something that is trying to be born. New life. Healing and freedom. Dreams. Letting go and receiving. Truth.

Labor is less painful and birth so much more joyful when it is shared. I have always believed, and do more than ever, in the gift of presence.  Having a safe place for rest, shelter, comfort. Without fear or shame or guilt or judgment. I wish I could say that this is an easy gift to receive. For me, it is not. But I have learned, both the easy way and the hard way, that it is a gift to be treasured. Designed and given by God himself.

And it is priceless.