Love by Ones

I was listening to a sermon last weekend and at the end, the pastor mentioned the idea of loving by ones. Love by ones. I had never heard it put so plainly. One by one is how we are supposed to love people. We are supposed to love the people who are in front of us or the ones who need us in that moment. Loving people also looks very different across cultures and circumstances. In Kolkata, love looks like eating mountains of rice which I would normal avoid back home. Love is sitting an eating an unknown fruit without washing it because it was given to me by one of the ladies. Love is walking hand in hand with one of the ladies as we leave work. Love is a head nod and a smile. All of these things involve no words but love is so clearly communicated. Love is an action.

Love is also words. Love is allowing people space to vent when they are frustrated. Love is community creating safe space to be vulnerable. Love is offering Reese's Pieces, Red Vines or Swedish Fish during tea time. Love is sharing a meal and talking about growing up in Southern California. Love is the affirmation that my time here has been valuable. Love is sitting a listening to the good, bad and ugly parts of life in Kolkata. Love is being invited to share a meal in someone's home. It is in these moments where love is felt.

I was created to love.

One by one.  

Looking Back

Holi was this week. We had two days off. I took this time to read my previous blogs and reflect on the journey so far. I read about my excitement as my return to Kolkata became a reality. I read about the nerves as I packed my bags and began the adventure that is getting to Kolkata. I read my initial reaction to the chaos of arriving in Kolkata after long, sleepless flights. I read about the valleys along the way when I didn't think I would have the strength to stay for the duration of my visa. I read about the joy of sitting with the ladies as they work diligently to get products completed and send out. 

As I read these words, it brought back very vivid memories of the mental space I was occupying during those times. I remember the excitement and anticipation as I arrived to a familiar yet new experience. I remember the times I was grabbed by men on the streets. I remember the tears as I battled depression and anxiety. I remember the joy in celebrating Christmas with the ladies, but also the deep sadness of being away from family for the holidays. I remember the stress of working through weekends and holidays to get the Dillard's order completed and out the door. I remember my time in Delhi and the huge blessing it was to sit on a grassy rooftop to watch the sunset with a friend. I remember the many times our community gathered in our flat to share a meal or a cup of coffee. I remember the many ways this place has become home. I remember the big belly laughs. I remember the glimpses of beauty among the brokenness of Kolkata. 

I have learned about my deep desire and need for a community as I walk through life. I have learned technology is a huge blessing to keep connected to people who know my heart and encourage me through emails and texts. I learned the importance of staying focused on a big God who loves instead of feeling discouraged by the daily things that break my heart. I realized the importance of honesty and vulnerability so I do not carry my burdens alone. I have found beauty in the unexpected places of broken buildings or the silence of sewing at Sari Bari. I notice the joy of laughter and the love in sharing rice. This city has changed me and the way I see things. 

My time is quickly coming to a close here. Less than 6 weeks and I will be eating Mexican food and gourmet ice cream with my sister and chatting for hours over coffee with friends. I am starting to have conversations about jobs when I get home. I am dreaming of ways to stay connected to Sari Bari when I return to Southern California. I am gearing up for hard goodbyes and hopeful see you laters. 

When Jesus turns things Upside Down

Today at church we discussed the passage in Luke about Jesus casting demons into pigs and then they all jumped off a cliff. At one point during the discussion, someone saw a connection to Luke 4:18-19 where Jesus stands in the synagogue reads a passage from Isaiah says he is fulfilling the prophesy starting all kinds of drama within the gathering. I love it because in many ways Jesus stood up dropped a bomb then dropped the mic and walked away. Just listen to this:

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; 

because he has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor. 

He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives

and recovering of sight to the blind, 

to set at liberty those who are oppressed, 

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." 

Luke 4:18-19

It is funny because the people in the room have been waiting for the Messiah. A Savior. Jesus comes on the scene and turns everything upside down. He is fully confident in who and what the Father has called him to say and do. He makes no apologies and doesn't force people to follow him. Instead, he presents the information and let's people decide for themselves. 

I saw this with fresh eyes this morning. I now see it through the lenses of hope for the women I work with, for the men who roam the streets, for the children who go without food. Jesus came to proclaim hope to those on the fringes. It is really cool to watch the work Jesus started 2000 years ago being continued today on the lanes of the red light areas. The upside down way to see the women we work with as valuable, loved, redeemed, restored as opposed to society telling them they are ruined, dirty, worthless. Most upstanding citizens in this city would never associate with women who are associated with the trade. They avoid the area I call home. They don't see these women has human beings but merely part of a business transaction. I choose to hang out and work with these women because they know how to love me. They have huge hearts for the family of Sari Bari and feed me more rice than my stomach can possibly handle. God is restoring the red light areas and bringing freedom to the captives and good news to the poor. It is a gift to see these things in action. I am blessed. 

The Wounds We Carry

Forgive and forget. This is something we are taught from a young age. Often times, we do not and can not forget the pain so we shove it down deeper. We keep it hidden so we appear to have forgotten except when a moment or a memory brings it to the surface and rips open the wound again. It is hard to voice our pain to others because it means we didn't forget. What if we just forgive and never forget? What if we allow Jesus to redeem the really deep wounds but allow our scars to be told through our stories? What if those wounds we signs of hope for others who are going through the same situations or struggles? 

I was forced to think about this in light of the women I work with on a daily basis. I am surrounded by women who deeply love, greatly care and abundantly feed everyone around them. I have only heard brief stories of the struggles they have faced along their journey to Sari Bari. I can only imagine the struggles they have faced or the abuse they have suffered. I can't imagine any one of these women has forgotten their past but have used their past struggles to fight for each step of freedom. They are welcomed into a family who share their wounds and the ways they have been restored. It was beautiful to hear the ways Sari Bari has transformed lives during the birthday celebration. Generations are being transformed and deep wounds are being redeemed. What would it look like if I let my wounds transform the way I love people? What would it look like to carry those wounds as a part of my story? How could my wounds change the way people see me? 

Kolkata is a city that creates huge wounds in my heart. It aches for the extreme poverty. It cringes as the injustice. It cries out for the women and children in bondage. It hurts for the brokenness of the lanes of the red light areas. There are also the wounds of being a white woman walking the streets of Kolkata. As I pass, I hear words I understand in English (and some I don't in Bengali) which shrinks me down to a pair of boobs. As I crowd into the metro or stop to buy a cold drink, I am grabbed as if I were a piece of meat for the taking or the subtle brushes which slowly eat away at my worth. Those are the wounds I carry with me as I leave this place. God is healing those wounds as I offer them up to Him. Through redemption those wounds are made beautiful. When Jesus appeared to his disciples after being crucified, it was his wounds which proved his identity. My wounds are proof of the journey God has laid before me. I can not and will not forget. 

Month Four

The last month has been filled with the absolute insanity of fulfilling the biggest order in Sari Bari history and the much needed break with a friend in Delhi. Amidst the chaos, time flew by. I had not been to the Sari Bari unit in the south of the city for a few weeks and I was able to return this week. It was such a sweet time quietly sitting with the ladies as they sewed beautiful works of art. It was in the quiet space I realized what a gift time here is. I have been welcomed into the Sari Bari family and been giving more rice than I could possible eat, more hugs than I would expect and more love than I deserve.   There is laughter as I sit back and watch the women joke with one another. There is a sense of peace and safety within the walls of Sari Bari that words do not sufficiently describe. The ladies are my heroes for the way they choose freedom amidst a culture that tells them freedom is not an option. They create beauty out of old saris and they are so proud of their work. Dignity is restored. Hope becomes reality.

I stand at the threshold of each new day with a sense of urgency, sadness, longing, joy, hope and peace. Some days I feel as if time is moving too quickly and I wont be able to accomplish my tasks before I say goodbye. Other days I enjoy the sweet, slow moments of laughter with the ladies. In 2011, I looked forward to freedom birthdays and Christmas parties because there was such a sense of joy and celebration. Those were the big moments I remembered. Being here now, I look forward to the everyday tasks. Packing product to be shipped around the world. Carrying product from one building to the next. The ladies feeding me mountains of rice, India flavored candy and all kinds of sweets. Feeding the women all forms of peanut butter in return. It is watching the women create beautiful works of art with a needle and thread. I am blown away with the love and grace they extend to me as I struggle to communicate.

The question arrises about how long I will be here. Most assume 3 years since this is my second time at Sari Bari and that is the normal flow for foreign staff. I tell them I will be here two more months. They ask when I am coming back and I say I don't know. I get looks of confusion or disappointment. It is in these moments my heart breaks because this chapter is quickly coming to an end. I will soak up every moment I have here with a grateful heart.

A Day in the Life

Have you ever come home from a vacation feeling like you needed another vacation to recuperate? Delhi was a such a good, healthy, restful break from the chaos of the city, but jumping right back into the insanity that is my daily life in Kolkata turned into an exhausting week. Part of the reason I love living and working in Kolkata is the constant change from day to day. One day will be a peaceful day at the office where I sit and chat with the ladies during tea time while having space to be creative with the marketing plan. Other days its rushing to get product out the door to meet a deadline so we can make payday or hosting a tour in the midst of chaos in the lanes surrounding Sari Bari. I am constantly being stretched above and beyond what I think I can handle. It is in the chaos I learn real peace. It is in the hard times I discover true joy. It is in the exhaustion I find rest.

By Friday night I was exhausted from late nights of community gatherings. It was a struggle to get out of bed knowing I would be giving a tour, packing product and rolling with whatever punches came my way. My margins were so thin. One thing I look forward to is Friday morning prayer with the North American Sari Bari community. We intentionally set aside time to pray for one another, this city and the women at Sari Bari. We are honest. We are vulnerable. We often pray for the impossible. Yesterday, my friend prayed that I would find joy in spite of being exhausted which felt impossible. After prayer, I walked in to Sari Bari and felt a surge of energy. There was laughter. There was peace. I found joy in hearing the women laugh. I found joy in sharing Sari Bari's story with visitors. I found joy in being force feed rice. It is in those moment I know Sari Bari is a safe place, a refuge from the storm. It is where my soul finds rest.

Community in Kolkata has become a huge part of thriving in this city and the work we do everyday. We share meals with people who have become so woven into our stories as we sit and talk about the hard stuff and laugh big belly laughter. It is in this space where we can be honest with the ways our hearts hurt for the people we work with or the reality of being separated from our families. These people understand the reality of working with broken women and the desire to restore dignity and hope in the red light areas. I found a quote which perfectly sums up life in Kolkata: "The world may be broken but hope is not crazy" (The Fault in our Stars). We cling to hope. Hope that the women will continue to find freedom. Hope that God is still good. Hope that one day the red light areas will be transformed. Hope is what makes me put one foot in front of the other on hard days. Hope of a better life for the women. 

Coffee and Conversation in Delhi

My soul was tired. I needed a break from the hustle and bustle of Kolkata. I love when God makes things happen even before I know what I need. I spent the last few days in Delhi staying with a friend and his parents who live there. It was good to have time and space to process my time in Kolkata. It was good for my heart to have a friend ask hard questions. I loved sitting in the grass on the rooftop drinking coffee and watching the sunset. We talked about camp memories. We laughed at all the stupid things we did at camp. We FaceTimed with people from camp who encouraged us both. My friend created intentional empty space for me to relax and recharge. He wanted to hear my heart. He wanted to understand as much of my life in India as he could. There were times we would just sit in silence. My time in Delhi was a gift that I am so thankful for. I am rested and ready to head into my last 2 months in Kolkata.