winns angels

Ribbon for peace; grieving: I posted a poem called "feelings" yesterday and after it I said, "Sometimes it feels like I've been grieving forever. Sometimes it feels like I will never stop. Sometimes I feel I have not grieved enough. So much sadness in the world. Maybe someday I will write about this grief, maybe that will help me to get past."

Today I will tell you a little bit about some of the sadness. I do not think it will help me to get anywhere past it. As I 've been cleaning and sorting and organizing over the past months I have found some treasures. One of the treasures was this black ribbon. It was with a paper from 1996 - the ELW (Evangelical Lutheran Women's) Quadrennial Convention. The paper explains about women round the world wearing the ribbon "demanding a world without rape and violence".

Yesterday, some 10 years later, the ELW of our church presented the annual Praise Offering Service which happens in Lutheran churches cross Canada. The theme was sexual exploitation. We were made aware that there are stories in the Bible of exploitation of women. Some of these women were named. Others were not.

Sexual exploitation today - well I don't think I have to say very much. I think you are aware.

A few years ago I was reading a magazine article about a young lady who had health issues. She was very much having difficulties in the school system. She was very much an outgoing individual. She very much loved people. She liked to help people.

Her family tried to do the best they could for her but she kept falling between the cracks. They moved from place to place. She ended up, the family believed, in a particular part of Vancouver, a particular part where young ladies were disappearing, a particular part where little attention was paid that they were disappearing, a particular part where little attention was given by police if individuals, women, went missing. She was never seen again. Finally attention was given. Finally someone started to realize the numbers. Finally bones were found. They were found underground by a farm near Vancouver. (I may not have the details exact. It was too painful to pay attention myself when I knew there was little I could do, besides pray).

This story scared me to the core. It scared me because the young lady in the story sounded too much like someone I know.

Sexual exploitation of women, of children, of anyone, is abominable.

What can I do? I can pray and pray and pray somemore. I can try to make financial contributions to oraganizations that will help in whatever way possible. I could stand up politically - right now I guess that is what I am doing. I do not have strength to be any more political. I can ask you to help me with your prayers. I can ask you to help financially if you are able. If YOU have been exploited sexually - my heart bleeds for you. Know that I am praying for you. And I will pray some more.

Please find more poems - Better? and Why the children? at windyangelsandyou which speak politically about women and children. Some people may not like the exrta intent I have given in "the Cup" - my impressions, not trying to influence anyone. Perhaps the impressions go too far. I was angry when I wrote it and very, very sad.

"My path to Ubuntu" tells a little bit more about me and I suppose why I feel the need to help, to pray.

May peace be with you this day.