the Real Love Movement was inspired by the truths written in the Bible and in Elisabeth's book, Putting Fairy Tales to Shame. Here you'll find her weaving of words, a little creativity, and, it's prayed, some healing for your sweet soul. Comment, share, and be a part of the desperately needed Real Love Movement!
Be sure to go to Elisabeth's main site www.elisabethhuijskens.com
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Friday, September 30, 2011

Waiting

Some Joplin jazz played while the AC's air made the room even colder than the chill that came from our conversation.  I crossed my legs, and took another sip of my carmel frappuccino; never letting my eyes revert from hers across the small circle table, as she let her soul spill from the deepest chambers within, out of her mouth, to me.

"I imagine a heart of glass being dropped onto a large mirror.  And after it shatters, and the pieces scatter, I see my reflection staring back tup at me.  It was my heart, and me who broke it.  The moment I believed him, I did the heart breaking myself."

Soaking it in, I sat straighter at the edge of my chair.  

She continued, "I settled, gave my heart to someone else because I was impatient.  I didn't wait.  Not for him."

The air shifted.  The AC turned off.  I was intrigued, "Who's that?"

"Him," she stated matter-a-factly, "The man who worships like David, is wise like Solomon, and brave like Jonathan.  The man who is obedient to God like Abraham and has faith like Joshua.  He who has Jesus as his closets friend, like Peter.  He who is willing to endure suffering to chase God and spread the gospel like Paul."

"I'm still waiting for him too..." I replied.  "I have found a man, however," I said as hope cast over her eyes, "who has given me flowers everyday -- along with fields, oceans, and sunrises.  I've found a man who deeply believes that I couldn't be more beautiful, and doesn't want to defile my purity.  I've found a man who died in following God wholeheartedly with bravery.  I've found a man stronger than anyone I have ever seen before, with a strength that cannot be beaten even by the grave.  I've found a man who has always loved me, and me alone, genuinely.  I've found a man who is relentlessly pursuing me, even while knowing the dark shadows of my heart.  I've found a man who has been waiting for me, ever so patiently and selflessly, since the day I was born; hoping with his whole being that I would one day fully love Him in return."

He's waiting for you too. 


Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Leve Project

lā ・ vā (v) creole word meaning to raise/to lift up/grow

to learn more about the Leve Project and the change they are going to make through God in the lives of the people of Haiti. I am excited to see all they will do! (:

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Restavecs: Haiti's Hidden Slave Children

This is a paper I just finished writing for my college geography class about the Restavek system in Haiti. Within me I know that this story must be told for those kids in Haiti suffering right now. I know it is long, but please read, and please share.

In Port-au-Prince, Haiti, a month after the devastating earthquake that shook the nation even lower to its knees, Melila Thelusma is living in a tent with her two daughters of eleven and six years of age. Melila is desperate for basic necessities to live as the rainy season has begun to beat down on the tent that houses her and her daughters. This woman is so helpless that she is willing to give her daughters away to make sure that they not only survive, but receive a promising future. Even in the most heinous time of her life, however, she would give her daughters to a foreigner before giving them to a wealthier Haitian within the country. “Not a Haitian family. Haitians will make them suffer. They … force the child to work like an animal. They don't really care for them,” Melila states (Loney, par. 1). What this woman was referring to is Haiti's restavec system. Melila realizes that even though there is a common belief that the restavec system is for the benefit of Haiti's children, this system is child slavery and ultimately for the sake of the “hosts” or masters.The word restavec comes from the Haitian Creole word restavek, meaning “one who stays with” (Restavec, par. 4). When a parent chooses to give a child away, in most cases because of the lack of ability to provide for them, the child will go live with a family, most likely never to see his or her birth family again. With that single decision by the parent, the child then becomes a part of the restavec system. The new family, or host family will treat the restavec child as a domestic slave. Weighted upon the heavy load of chores, these children are often abused verbally, physically, or sexually -- if not all of the above (Restavec, par. 5).

A restavec's day begins before the sun rises and ends after the sunset hits the ground. A long listof chores are to be done each day in unhealthy environments. At least one in ten children in Haiti are restavecs, doing domestic chores all day without money, scarcely receiving food, and then retreating to the floor to sleep. Household tasks are to be done such as cleaning the house, fetching water (far heavier than any adult would be comfortable carrying), and serving to every member of the host family. Restavecs are also required to serve children who are younger than themselves, and refer to them as madam and monsieur. Many of the wives and mothers in the host families have raved about how useful restavecs are in their homes, as if talking about a new kitchen appliance, because restavec children complete the most work around the house (Restavec: Slavery, par. 9).


Not all children leave their families to live with wealthier ones. Many poorer families take in restavecs because they cannot afford to hire and pay a house maker of an adult age. In these situations, the restavec child is fed less, is living in poorer conditions, and the work load is multiplied. Not only does the amount of work increase, but abuse of all kinds are more frequent and more painful. While wounded and scarred, the restavec child, working and sleeping in even worse conditions that the hosts already are, is more prone to infection and disease.


Restavecs who are told to walk the host family's children to school, are to walk straight back to the home, as many restavec children do not receive an education. Even if a restavec child is attending school, it is usually to a school of low standards and quality, and they are usually too old for their grade level. In the end, restavecs don't usually graduate, because an education is not permitted to become the main focus of their lives. Instead, their list of chores and beatings take up most of their time and thoughts during the day. They are not given a fair opportunity to succeed (Restavec, par. 8).


Why does this pattern of children loosing their childhood to a life of abuse continue?Unfortunately, many excuses have been fabricated. One reason is the idea that this is Haitian culture (Restavec: Slavery, par. 8). It is Haitian culture for parents to send their children to other extended relatives living far away. It is a common practice for housing to be shared among extended family.


However, what a lot of parents fail to conclude before they send their sons and daughters away is the possible danger the children might be placed in, even just by living with other family members. The beatings, sexual harassment, and verbal abuse is not and should not be Haitian culture. Another justification as to why the restavec system lives on is because authorities do not intervene. Restavec children are seen as property, not laboring children; therefore, even adults aware of the situation refuse to assist the abused child (Haitian Kids, par. 5). Restavecs choose not to attempt at running away from their hosts in fear of being beaten and abused, demonstrating yet another parallel to slavery.


Restavec children not only lose their freedom of living as other kids around them do, but they also lose any chance at an exceptional future. Restavecs grow up being told that they are not allowed to display any “emotions without fear or reprisal” (Haitian Kids, par. 6). They live their early years with no voice of their own, believing that their opinions are equal to those of an animal that sleeps on the same floor on which they sleep. Hosts allowing restavecs to eat at the table is unheard of. One restavec child, as he sang along for his host family's birthdays, was lead to believe that restavecs have no birthday and he had no concept of how old he was (Haiti 'Restavec,' par. 19). Usually at the age of fifteen, hosts will decide that they are done with “their” restavec and, if the child is lucky, release the restavec child out onto the streets to fend for themselves. In other cases, however, the child could be raped or killed when their work is no longer wanted. With no education, and probably suffering from numerous physical and emotional disorders, the child is left to search through years of abuse and heart ache for his or her future.


It should be said that not all children in Haiti who are sent by parents to live with a more fortunate family are abused. The term restavek is used for the abused child. However, timoun ki rete kay moun is Haitian Creole for “child who stays in a person's house,” referring to those children who are not abused by host families (Restavec, par. 4). There are families in Haiti who simply feel a call to help a child in need. In these environments, the host family focuses on the child and the child's well-being (Restavec: Slavery, par 9). This is how the system is supposed to work. Ideally, a parent who cannot take care of his or her child because of lack of money or resources sends the child to a family who can provide him or her with nourishing food, an education, and a safe, clean place to sleep. However, the restavec system now resembles slavery and not an opportunity for a more promising life ahead.


The many hosts who do not abuse their restavec children do not out number, nor excuse those who do. One restavec girl explains that one day when she broke the heel on her shoe, her hosts beat her with their sandals. Accompanying the beating, the hosts singed her chest and arms with with broken electrical wire, scarring her so that she “would remember” (Haiti's Forgotten, par 9). One restavec professed that she was told to stand on her knees upon a bed of rocks with a heavy rock in her hands high above her head. A thirteen year old girl shared that she was covered in hairspray and then lit on fire after being sexually assaulted. To say that the restavec system is helpful to the children of Haiti is as plausible as encouraging the abuse of young children, usually girls under the age of nine years old (Haiti's Forgotten, par. 10).


Haiti is a nation that was founded upon a successful slavery rebellion. Heartrendingly, out of the eight million residents in Haiti, three hundred thousand of them are children in the restavec system today (Haiti's Forgotten, par. 1). Because of the lack of resources and poverty, there are not abundant opportunities for Haiti to rid itself of the restavec system. It has been recognized that as the poverty rises, so does the child slavery. The recent imprisonment of ten American missionaries because of their attempt to bring thirty-three Haiti children over the border to the Dominican Republic reenforces this observation. Although awareness of the restavec system has risen during the past decade, children are still being treated as slaves, just like their ancestors. This way of life is harming children to an unfathomable degree, severing families, and only pleasing and fueling the host's hearts of hatred. Being abused, uneducated, and thieved of their well-deserved childhood is a life no child should have to experienced; however, this is the life which a myriad of Haiti's children live everyday.

(photos from angela fairfield)

Go to the Restavek Foundation's website to see how you can donate your treasure and time to the restavec children of Haiti.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Jumping

I've been living on the edge the last several days. No, I haven't been living with a daring nor fearless demeanor. I have been walked up a mountain by mostly silly little tasks causing stress, but also by large elements that fabricate my life right now, which are pressing on my heart mercilessly. I had no idea I was being lead up this mountain until my feet felt its edge. Until I heard the gravel of its mighty sides break off the cliff and fall to the depths below.

This is where I have been.

It's terrifying. I hated feeling like I needed to distract myself to be happy. I hated worrying and getting nothing accomplished. I hated not feeling like me.

But now I know... A hand has been extended. An invitation has been given. And I don't have to jump alone. I took it! I took the hand. I took the invitation.


I jumped.

I'm free of the edge! The fall feels exhilarating. Now that I'm no longer in this scared state, it's easier to search for joy; I can reach out to others more easily. I know that the fall will be frightening at times. But I'd rather be falling than forgetting. I'm jumping for what I'm passionate about, and if this is what I need to do, I'll do it. Now I'm free. That's what it is... I'm free.

(photo from weheartit.com)