from the field into THE field

There are some moments in your life that you look back on and think, “wow, that was a really defining moment in my life” and there are others that before they even occur you know they are going to be more impactful than you could ever describe. Last Friday was one of those days. On Thursday, one of the counselors in the office asked if the other legal intern (Carmen) and I wanted to go with her into the field for a counseling session with one of IJM's clients. Of course we wanted to go. Once it was cleared with our boss, we showed up on Friday morning eager but our hearts full of anxiety of the emotional roller coaster we were embarking on.

You cannot imagine what horrors this girl has experienced, and I will spare you the details of the abuse she suffered. Last week in one of our morning devotionals with the whole staff, the counselor assigned to this case told us, “I saw God today” when she described the transformation that had taken place in this girl's life because of IJM. Afterall, this exact sentiment is stated in Jeremiah 22:16, "He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well. 'Is that not what it means to KNOW me?' declares the Lord." To defend the cause of the poor and needy, is to KNOW Him. And surely, I also saw God that day.

We drove almost three hours to see her at a facility for disabled children, where they can live, attend school, with doctors are on site. There were about 4 warehouse-sized buildings with just beds in rows – like something you would see from a war. For almost two hours, I didn’t see a single child with all four functioning limbs. Wheelchairs with broken wheels, worn crutches, children without any control over their own bodies. It was so heartbreaking, I cannot begin to describe the pain my heart felt. But the most disturbing thing of all, was thinking about these children’s future, and how they would possibly thrive in a country where 90% of the population works directly on the land to earn pennies for a living. Multiple kids were just laying helpless in their bed screaming. Tears streaming down their faces, like their face didn’t know how to look without crying.

Please keep IJM's client's recovery in your prayers. For her health, healing, strength, and faith. IJM needs to raise enough money to keep her at this wonderful facility and for her medical treatments. I beg you to keep the IJM staff in your prayers from all aspects of IJM’s work. The investigation team is still looking for the second perpetrator in this case, as he is on the run, and his location is unknown. The legal team needs prayers as they work to prepare and build a strong case against the principle perpetrator to ensure a conviction. The IJM counseling team also needs your prayers for discernment in her trauma-focused therapy, courage, and strength in sharing love with her.

This is the “field.” This is the work that is to be done. The people to be loved. And there is so much out there. Of the thirty cases or so that I’ve read in my first two weeks of work, hers is certainly one of the most heartbreaking of all the stories, yet it is only the smallest fraction of the heartbreak that is in this world. But I refuse to end this heavy post on anything other than the BOLD courage that this girl has. Her radiating beauty, the huge smile cemented on her face that we had come to visit, her chattering away about how happy she was just to be in a better position than so many of her new roommates, how thankful she was that she was alive, and that IJM had intervened in her life.

As we drove away, it was well-past lunch time, the car was hot, I was in the far back trunk of the SUV on a very bumpy road as I was getting jerked around, one of the staff said, “so are you guys hungry? Tired? Ready to go home? What?” But as I sat in the back of that vehicle, reflecting on the last two hours, all I could manage to reply was, “I am… blessed.”

by the hair on our skinny chin chins

Friday, I had the opportunity to go with a group of students to a nearby town called El Escorial. There is a huge monastery/palace there from King Phillip- the most powerful man in all of Spain's History. He led the Inquisition from the rooms that I walked through. The palace was HUGE and very impressive in every detail- like wooden doors handmade from 100 different kinds of wood and paintings by famous artists in each room. Ryan (the other auxiliar at JF) and I were talking to each other in English the whole time, guilty of not paying much attention to the guide and guilty of not interacting much with the students. It was a group of Bulgarians who are in Collado Villalba for a student exchange. Ryan and I barely managed to find the group in the first place that morning. As soon as we gave up trying to meet up (we didnt have any of the teacher's phone numbers or anything and we were suppose to be there at 9:30 and around 10:30 we decided to go to el Escorial on our own) they found us and got on the train we had just bought tickets to. It worked out nicely. I was so exhausted from a long week, my feet were killing me only half way through this enormous castle and this combination led to me barely paying attention. Luckily, I was technically at work so I dont think it mattered. And if it did, oooops....

After the longest tour of my life, Ryan and I were starving and feeling near-death with exhaustion. The kids pulled out sandwiches from their bags and started eating in the courtyard. Recognizing this meant not eating until the bus got back to Collado Villalba, Ryan and I thanked the professors, said goodbye to everyone and headed off to find food. We stopped by the bus station first to confirm the schedule Rick Steves lists to get to the Valley of The Fallen- a memorial for the Spanish-Civil War. Sure enough, Rick was right- he is always right so we grabbed a pizza at this wonderful little Italian place across the street from the bus station. My pizza was tomatoes, basil, mozzarella, proscuitto and olive oil- best pizza ever! We bought our bus tickets, climbed abroad and were at the Valley of the Fallen fifteen minutes later.
This moment completely blew my mind. This huge valley full of trees on the side of the mountain with a huge cross and huge memorial. It reminded me of something like you'd see in Washington DC but this one was full of religious statues. Ironically, Franco and the father of Facism are buried there with the 50,000 Spanish who died in the war. Does that sit well with you? Because I was filled with the eeriest feeling walking through this huge place. The 30 foot angels of death/facism looking down on me didn't really help.
The bus route only runs one time from El Escorial to the Valley. We got on at 3:15, we get back on at 5:30. There is not 2 hours worth of things to do at this momument. Luckily, it was nice weather so Ryan and I sat in the sun and chatted overlooking this gorgeous valley and then I decided to take a little nap. I woke up at 5:10 and we decided to head over to the bus. We see a bus and laugh at how there are probably a total of 15 people at this thing. Next thing we know, its 5:20 and a huge group of students speaking German boards that bus and it takes off. At this moment, we realize, "uh oh, that clearly isnt our bus. where IS our bus? where are all the people we rode here with on that bus?" I start noticing there are only 2 cars in the entire parking lot and I am having visions of sleeping under a tree at this place. At 5:24 or so we start walking and realize we actually have no clue where we are or where we are suppose to be. We are lost and our one shot off of this mountain cliff is leaving in 5 minutes. Panic totally started to settle in when Ryan spotted the bus up this small hill. We started running and boarded the bus at 5:31. We didn't even sit down before the driver was already driving off the mountain. Talk about a close, close, close call. Glad we went! Really glad we didn't get stuck there.