In honor of the June squad returning home, I felt that I should warn our friends and family of what you all might expect in the days to come. These next couple of months will be an interesting transition back into American society, both for the Racer and his/her community. You might be wondering what's happened to your sweet child and if they've been brainwashed. They may exhibit new attitudes, new behaviors and habits. Don't be alarmed...this is to be expected. For your ease of mind,  I've compiled a quick list of habits, questions, reactions or odd statements you should expect. This will better prepare you all for our inevitable social blunders...

Things You Can Expect From an Ex-Racer

If they come to your house, its perfectly normal to hear...

 "Can I drink this water?"

 "So, is it cool to flush the TP here...?"

 "There wasn't a name on it, so I used it. Hope that's ok."

 "Where's the Free Table?"

  "Hey do you care if I borrow your toothbrush, I left mine at home."

  Routine behaviors that might raise an eyebrow, but are perfectly normal...

Excessive trips to the free refill counter, accompanied with lots of slurping and an excited "Ok, really, last trip...I promise. This is so much fun!!"

Instead of folding clothes into drawers, they are rolled tightly, military style (and MIGHT be stored in ziploc bags too)

Every month, clothes are tossed out, with the simple explanation of "It weighs too much. Get rid of it!!"

Constant blogging.

Guzzling gallons of iced tea at record pace.

Bargaining with the store clerks at Wal-Mart.

The offer to do your logistics for the family vacation.

The inability to stay in one place very long.

Gleeful laughing and clapping at the sight of a clothes dryer.

 The insistence that another international trip must be planned quickly because "I still have 3 blank pages in my passport!"

Hand-sanitizing.

They're really not kidding when they say...

  "Sorry, officer... I really didn't realize 10 people in one car was such a problem."

  "Who wants to climb that waterfall and jump off with me?"

  "How much will you pay me to eat this bug?"

  "I haven't showered in, like, 3 days. I just didn't think about it." 

  "There's one brownie left. Let's arm-wrestle for it."

  "That looks so gross. Let's taste it!"

    Be patient when they say...

 "$10 ?!  I'm not paying that. In China, its only $2."

 "When I was in the Philippines...."

 "Oh my gosh, when we were in Swaziland..."

  "Well, in Cambodia..."

 "Ha, that's nothing. When we were in Thailand..."

  "Yeah...when I was on the World Race..."

  "Plan? No. Let's just figure it out when we get there."

  You'll notice they're very resourceful...

   "Sprrrrrrrrf."

 Hope this offers you a good preview of what you can expect. Be assured that yes, we have most certainly changed, but its all for the better. We may be a bit quirky when we get home, but bear with us! Its been a remarkable year for everyone. June squad Racers will be happy to be there, and full of memories to share. May your time with them be wonderful and refreshing.

                             Sunday, I was on my knees in prayer for several things when I heard the quietest voice tell me to go to the Red Light District and pray. At first, I wasn't sure it was the Lord. So I stopped praying and waited. Again, the voice said to go directly after church and pray thru the district. Well, in the past I've had my Race buddies with me when prayer walking, especially in such spiritually dark areas. I wasn't worried for my physical safety, as Amsterdam isn't such a place where one worries so much for that. I was considering my spiritual strength and whether I could battle what was there alone. I trust the Lord in all of these situations, so I knew He would take care of me. But, I couldn't have prepared myself enough for what I saw when I got there.

The area is much bigger than I could have imagined. There are over 900 windows where girls advertise themselves, practically naked. They stand in the glass, beckoning men over as they walk by and gawk. Some of them smile and wave, coyly, while others just stand and stare. Those without windows work the bars or separate establisments, by the thousands. They are of all shapes, sizes, colors and ages. The only thing they have in common is that they find themselves in the same awful situation day after day...trying to survive by selling their bodies. Information released recently says that four out of five prostitutes here are held against their will by pimps and criminals. Over half of the girls are trafficked in from other countries and forced to work the streets. When the legal age for a girl to work is 16, I simply cannot understand how the people of Holland can allow this to continue. Dutch government is finally making promises to crack down on the 750-year-old business, but refuses to abolish it. (While the prostitutes are paying taxes, the government profits.) The new regulations they're implementing don't seem to be of much value, but at least its a start.

                                                                        During my time in the RLD, I walked thru narrow strips, passing window after window and woman after woman. None of them made eye contact with me as I passed and I knoew they were ashamed. I wanted to whisper thru the glass "God knows you're here and He wants to set you free." But, it wasn't the time for conversation. Even on a Sunday, crowds of young men were blazing through there, consumed with lust and desire. At one particular place, I came to an alley that had a dead end and I could feel a very deep evil, but I summoned my courage and trudged through, praying for God's protection and rebuking Satan's grip on the area. I got to the end and turned to make my way back. In that moment, I felt a shift around me as if I wasn't alone. Yet, it was a presence of holy strength and I believe I was surrounded by some of God's heavenly warriors. I knew there was a battle raging around me that I couldn't see with my eyes, but felt in my spirit. I walked in confidence, knowing that God was protecting me, wanting simply to deliver the message he'd given me. There was no mistaking the fact that I was deep in the Enemy's territory, and I had no arrogance about it. Every time I made it thru to the open street, I inhaled deeply as if I had been suffocating. Then, I turned around and went back for more.

I finished my time there with a heavy heart. I know it is only one of many times I'll pray there, but tangibly, I feel powerless. I cannot convince this country to make a stand against prostitution and I cannot put a stop to sex trafficking. I cannot bring judgment to the criminals and justice to the oppressed. I can do none of these things but, all praise to God, He can do everything and more. If I cry out to Him, He will hear me. If I put myself on my knees and ask for His mercy, I shall have it. If I proclaim freedom for the captives, I trust He will honor it. If I commit to fight for the women in the RLD, in spirit and truth, He says I shall have the victory because I have the authority given by Jesus to cast out demons and rebuke evil. Darkness will hide because the light will overcome it.

I see that it's not only for hostel guests that I'm here. It seems that God has prepared me for so much more. I am here to join the fight against the principalities of Amsterdam, and I am ready, with the heavenly host as my defenders.

The words of the prophet, Isaiah, ring out in my heart today:

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because the Lord has appointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to announce that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed. He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the Lord's favor has come, and with it, the day of God's anger against their enemies. To all who mourn in Israel, he will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. For the Lord has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for his own glory. "        (Isaiah 61:1-3)

*** Join me in praying for an end to sex trafficking in Holland, for a release of the women held here against their will, and for a revival to birth in Amsterdam. Pray for the spiritual warfare going on, and the strength of our staff. Let it be ever-present in our minds what women around the world endure every day, so that as we actively pray, we'll see hope restored and the doors of brothels close forever.

    Although this news is old to most, I feel I must be clear to our faithful blog readers. Over a month ago, while in Manila with my Race squad, the option to leave the race was presented to me. Seth has always been clear that his vision for the Race is that we would find our role in the Kingdom, and pursue that with abandon. He wants to see us realizing who we are in Christ and reaching for our own potential. He acknowledges that the Race is just a means to an end, a launching pad for our personal journey of faith and trust in God. All that being said, I never imagined that, when I prepared for a year of travel and refinement within one small body of believers, I would find myself saying my goodbyes early and marching off into the great unknown with only my faith in Jesus to lead me. Truthfully, I had been looking forward to Central American ministry as a great way to end a great year. It would have been a marvelous blessing to my Latino-loving heart, but it most certainly wouldn't have been a challenge. Instead of rebuilding hurricane-ravaged areas in Nicaragua, I find myself across the world rebuilding the Church.
   

 People constantly wonder how I got here and what put this in my heart? All I can say is that God's plans are out of our hands and always better than we can imagine. I've been dreaming of Europe this year, and more recently, of what a Christian hostel ministry would look like. Now, I'm living my dream, working for the Shelter Youth Hostel Ministry in Amsterdam. I can look back through my journal entries and see how God was preparing me for this. I marvel at how He makes all things good and orchestrates all things to prosper us. Again and again, I see how circumstances over my life have been training for the ministry I've done this past year, and the ministry I'm doing now. Yesterday, God told me that even now He's training me for ministry in another city, one that will require a bolder step in evangelism. What an awesome thing to know and look forward to!!
   

So, here I am, in a city that once thrived on Christianity, but has become a town that legalizes prostitution and drug use. Instead of caring for the poor, the sick & the orphans, I'm ministering to world travelers from all walks of life and all sides of religion. My life is the multi-cultural extreme. I live in an international community of believers -- staffing the hostel alongside Belgians, French, Germans, Dutch and Americans. I flip burgers and teach bible to folks from everywhere you can imagine. I lead tours through the historic Jordaan neighborhood, hoping to unravel life and truth for my listeners. I build relationships with our guests and share my hope, faith and love for a God that's made me who I am today. I walk the Red Light District, crying out for freedom and restoration. I ask God to do mighty things here... and I wait, expectant. 
    It's never been easy to close chapters in my life and start new ones. I'm not a fan of goodbyes or puffy, red faces. But I took my chances and chose this path, one that entails the same journey with different surroundings. On my last night, the team took me to dinner and gave me a fabulous "sending off" that still makes me smile. I have memories to last a lifetime and friends to accompany them. When I think about them all, I wonder what it would be like to be there, still. I may never know which path was best, which was most exciting, or which required the most of me. But, I do know that both are good and both seek the same prize at the end of the race. When I made my leave, I considered what I was doing and an old poem came to mind, one that speaks of forks just like this. I have a peace and joy for where I am now, and a growing excitement for what's in store. My wisdom, should you also come to a fork and not know which way is best, is to trust in God's sovereignty and His purposes for your life. Both ways are good, and maybe one is best...but you will never know. You simply must choose. May God bless your journey with all sorts of terrain, both rocky and smooth, and may He bless your little feet, which carry the Good News.



Two roads diverged in a yellow wood    
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

--Robert Frost

People say that when you have a baby, you just automatically love it. They say its natural. They say your motherly instincts would cause you to do anything to protect its tiny life. They've probably never taken a walk down a rural dirt road in a 3rd world country to visit some of its poorest inhabitants. They've probably never stepped off into the brush, gone down the muddy path and looked behind the banana trees. They've probably never met the Rosales family...living in a tiny bamboo shack, 10x10ft, with holes in its roof and floorboards missing. I'm sure they've never seen parents choose who gets to eat vs. who can wait another day. I'm positive they haven't, because when you experience life from this angle you come to realize that what they say isn't true for everyone. Sometimes you have to teach a parent to love.

I was asked by Cory, my missionary contact for the month, to check in on the Rosales' while I was in Ubay. She wanted me to spend some time getting to know them and teaching the family better hygiene. Cory had met Cecilia and Josing (the parents) a couple months before when she had helped rush their son, Jerick, to the hospital on the verge of death. He was full of worms and they were literally killing him. He survived the incident, but Cory had been too busy to check back on the family. I gladly accepted the task, knowing that it would be my special ministry for the month. Cory volunteered to accompany me and make the formal introductions.
When we arrived at the tiny house, we found ourselves in the midst of a crisis. Jerick, 5, and Jelly, 10, were outside hanging around while Cecilia was inside with 3 very sick kids. We fumbled our way in, stepping carefully on the unstable floor, and squatted down to investigate them. Cecilia fussed with her hair, nervous and embarrassed. Jessalyn, 7, was swollen and seemed to be in great pain. She was too weak to cry, her mouth covered in sores. Flies buzzed all around and the look in her eyes cried for help. Jenjen, 3, was held by her mother, limp as a rag doll. She was so thin that I could see her heart beating through her skin, and all of her bones. She, too, was too weak to cry. Ginnie, 1, was fussy with diarrhea, equally malnourished as the others.
We advised the mother that the girls needed to go to the hospital and quickly made arrangements. Within a couple hours, I found myself riding in the back of a pick-up for almost 3 hours into town. It took another 3 hours to get the kids checked in and settled into rooms. We had to purchase all of the medications in advance, along with food and diapers. None of these things are provided in Filipino hospitals. (It's quite an ordeal!) All of the kids were classified as severely malnourished. Jenjen was found to have pneumonia and worms (one of which she coughed up later -- 12inches long). The other residents and medical staff couldn't stop gawking at the condition of the children. We left them in the ICU and headed home.

The next day, we returned to check on the rest of the family. Josing (father) arranged for a ride to Tagbilaran to join his wife in caring for the girls, leaving his other kids to fend for themselves. Cory and I quickly decided to bring 4 of the kids to her house where we could "fatten them up" as quickly as possible. They were excited for the warm bed, the food and, of course, the TV. Our plans changed rapidly when the first night found one child vomiting and another with explosive diarrhea. So, next day, I headed back to the hospital with Jelly on my lap and disappointment in my heart. (Jerick rode backseat with a friend.) Several hours later, I stood staring at half of the Rosales kids hooked up to IVs, wondering how a family can get to this point. They have 10 kids and one on the way. Only 2 of the kids are in school and at least 5 of them are so malnourished that they're years behind in growth.

The leaky roof has given them all bronchitis. Jelly is deaf in one ear, the result of an injury. Jerick's front teeth are black with decay. Jessalyn's legs are so swollen she can't stand or keep control of her bowels. (Her edema comes from severe protein deficiency.) She had bedsores when we found her and utters a pitiful cry of pain when touched. Jenjen never smiles, her eyes have no joy, no life. Baby Ginnie doesn't speak, crawl or walk. Yet, still, Josing is healthy enough to have a beer belly, and lazy enough to find excuses for not working every day. I can see that Cecilia cares for her children, but isn't moved to do more or ask for help. Josing could spend his time fixing the house, fishing, planting a garden or working odd jobs. Instead, he spends it drinking, gambling or wandering around.

So, how do you convince someone that their selfishness will cost the lives of their children? How do you show them that years of neglect have stunted the growth, health and happiness of innocent babies? How do you tell them that help is there if they're not too proud to ask? How do you inspire them to WANT a better life? These things seem simple to communicate, and simple to prove. Unfortunately, it's not an issue of capability or money, its an issue of love...and that goes much, much deeper. But, how do you teach a parent to love their own children?....

Jenjen-3, Jerick-5, Jessalyn-7, Ginnie-1

And this was the ministry God chose for me in the Philippines - to Love my neighbor as Jesus has loved me. So, every day, 3x a day, I walked to the Rosales house. We brought food for the kids, to continue our plan of "fattening them up." We spoon-fed them until they could feed themselves, and dished out medicines & vitamins every meal. I made 2 more visits to the doctor and gave countless hugs and smiles. I got Jelly into school for the first time, and saw Jerick walking by himself. I heard Jessalyn and Jenjen speak, finally. I became friends with Cecilia and shared a lot of laughs. By the time I left, I felt good about their recovery, and positive they'd felt my love. I put up a brave front when saying good-byes, but wavered when little Jerick cried. Like a good ending to a movie, I pulled away with all the neighbor kids running behind, waving. I waved back, praying that their lives would continue with joyful adventures, unblemished by neglect and misfortune.

Now, as my journey carries me across the world,... far from a little barrio named Casate, in a little town called Ubay, on a little island in the Philippines,...I often think about the Rosales kids. I think about how easy it is to love them, and I wonder if my example made any difference at all to their parents. I wonder if my time with Cecilia was well spent, and if I was able to teach her to love with grace and selflessness. I wonder if they'll remember me as well as I'll remember them. I pray that their lives would be an example of how God always makes good out of the bad, no matter what.

Jinky-12, Janice-9

Facts on Rosales Kids:

Jinky - 12 yrs old, fed by neighbors, good size, good weight, goes to school
Jelly -10 yrs old, size of 5 yr old, malnourished, never been to school, 34lbs.
Janice - 9 yrs old, bigger than Jelly, good size, good weight, goes to school
Jessalyn - 7 yrs old, size of 5 yr old, severe edema, malnourished, never been to school
Jerick - 5 yrs old, size of 3 yr old, 20 lbs, severely malnourished
Jenjen - 3 yrs old, size of 1 yr old, 12lbs, severely malnourished, pneumonia, worms
Ginnie - 1 yr old, size of 3 months, 12lbs, severely malnourished

10.  Smelling the Christmas Tree, and decorating it in old-school COLORED lights

9.  Christmas Caroling with best friends

8.  Annual Family Dinner Mishaps (ie: turkey on fire...drop dressing in driveway...etc)

7. Christmas Eve tradition of lighting luminaries (white bags with candles lining the streets of my town)

6.  Seeing my family -- ALL of it

5.  Mrs. Thompson's Pecan Pie

4.  Mom's Cornbread Dressing

3.  Dad's smoked duck

2.  Aunt Vina's deviled eggs (Nobody makes eggs like Aunt Vina)

1.  LEFTOVERS

     Well, China's weather certainly suited Christmas time much better, but the spirit in the Philippines far outweighs the spiritual depression of last month. We have officially arrived in the Manila area, after having suffered through a long delayed flight and a 2am pick-up. Our contacts are awesome, and our house is perfect. I haven't seen much of the area yet, but that will have to wait, too. At 4am, we head off to our Christmas on the Island, Filipino style. We're all thrilled to have a few days of total relaxation, combined with a short debrief. I feel at home in the humidity (shorts on Christmas day!), but regret to share that I've been sick for a week now and still haven't recovered. Pray for me! I need to kick this sinus infection and fever. Its no fun to be down for the holidays and a beach retreat.

     I have plenty to share about China and our time there, but it will have to wait until I can compose things. So, hang on for a little longer. In the mean time, I want to highlight a few blogs i posted a month ago that didn't get much attention. They were blogs from Thailand, not listed in my most Recent posts. Please take time to read the information about our ministry there. Look under Thailand (ch 4) and select:

Bar Ministry -- which shares what it was like ministering at the bars in Bangkok

Come to the Fountain -- which shares about the Well's ministry to prostitutes

the Ultimate Brideprice -- which shares more of my heart about sex for sale in Thailand

the Brokenness of Man -- which shares what I see affecting men today

When I looked in her eyes, I knew she was Natasha -- my experience with the global sex trade

These should keep you busy until you hear from me again. We're all doing our best to get time on the internet for calling and emailing for Christmas, but things are a bit slower here. Everyone has enjoyed the packages, letters, presents and candy they're receiving. The Philippines is a great place to spend the holidays -- the whole country seems to be decorated in lights. (I almost have a mind to go Christmas caroling around our neighborhood). It's nice to be here, but I'm still dreaming of home and Christmas on the Bayou.

I'll get my thoughts together on China as soon as I can. In the meantime, ck out Allison Johnston's blog for a fun Christmas Video, compliments of the June World Race team. (I'm not on it, I was pretty sick that day).  Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas, one and all.

Love, Elizabeth