Monday, June 10, 2013

Tucking an Ironic T-Shirt-Wearing Personality into a Pantsuit

...And the countdown has begun!  A week from tomorrow, I will be on a plane to Manila!

Am I excited?  I haven't had time to think about it.

This last week I was in Washington DC for training.  Basically everyone was Harvard law trained, and I felt like I had a giant sign hanging over my head that said:

"THIS PERSON IS NOT QUALIFIED TO DO WHAT SHE IS ABOUT TO DO! SERIOUSLY.  ASK HER WHAT HER DEGREE IS!  THEN ASK HER HOW IN THE WORLD SHE BECAME INTERESTED IN IJM! THEN WHEN SHE TELLS YOU THAT SHE DOES STRIP CLUB OUTREACH, ASK HER HOW SHE GOT INTO THAT!  FORCE HER TO DISCERN HOW MUCH SHE SHOULD TELL YOU!  I AM A REALLY MEAN SIGN!"

It was a very specific, very obnoxious imaginary sign.

I was the only intern/fellow out of 80 to not have a degree in what I am pursuing, and that is a little scary.*  Once some people began to understand that this wasn't an out-of-the-blue life change, and that I have helped a prostituted woman steal a cat, I think they were more comfortable with my being there*  I also learned that one cannot skip over the "What's your degree?" question and jump right ahead to, "I love strippers."  That is, in fact, how you get people to go sit on the opposite side of the room from you.

*Vomit-inducing terrifying

*They probably did not at all care that I was there, but it made me more comfortable to verbally affirm that what I am about to do makes any kind of sense.

But it was really a great week and everyone who works at IJM is so so wonderful.  I would meet someone and think, "This is the coolest person I've ever met," but then I would meet someone else and have the same thought.  There are at least 15 people who are the coolest person I've ever met.  It's complicated.

What I loved the most is that 90% of IJM is run by prayer.  The other 10% is run by people who sincerely believe in the power of prayer.  Basically all of IJM is run by prayer.  I had a really amazing conversation about praying.  When asked what I find gets in the way for me most when I pray, my answer was, "Words."  So I was told not to use words when I pray.  Did you know that's a thing?  I really didn't, but now I know it is.

Prayer


Pray for my flight.  What I am most anxious about is that I know there will be men on this flight who are going to the Philippines specifically for sex vacations.  Pray for them, too.

Continue to pray for trafficking in the US as well as overseas.  Trafficking is "the cool justice thing" in the church right now, and that is scary because fads tend to die down.  Pray this one keeps rising.  I suggest you "like" Human Trafficking Awareness USA on Facebook so that you know what is happening in every state.

I could also use prayer that I would get excited!  It's hard to focus much when I need to fit a year of life into a suitcase or two.  ...and that it's been recommended that I take a helmet and some bear spray.  Not just your average mace...bear spray.  I'm not actually concerned about any situation in which I might need this, I am much more concerned about how dumb I'll look walking around in a helmet while holding bear spray.

I could really list a ton of specific prayer requests about human trafficking, but I also need prayer for me.  I hate admitting it, but I need it.  My health...emotional, physical, and spiritual could all be lifted up in prayer.  I know that I will be encountering things that will cause the past to replay itself which will definitely take a toll on these three things.

But you know what?  I'll tell you this because it makes me really excited.  God has brought me to a place where I am able to genuinely thank him for the past.  It's the strangest feeling, but not at all a bad one!  So when I get pulled down emotionally, physically, and spiritually, pray that I am reminded that, pretty soon, I'll be praising God for it.  I'm doing the same for you!  It's not anything I want you to miss out on.

This sentence is just so I don't end a post with a sentence ending in a preposition.

My love to each of you,
Whitney

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