Monday, November 9, 2009

HEARTSTRINGS

There are days I sit in my cubicle dreaming of a land far, far away. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and very grateful to be there, but sometimes my restless spirit rears its annoying head vying for my attention. Immersed in projects I caught my cross-eyed reflection in the little mirror above my monitor and my thoughts were tugged along with my heartstrings.
"What’s going on in the world outside of my cubicle? Specifically, what’s happening in the Philippines with the flood victims and my friends at My Refuge House? What is Russ (clinical director at My Refuge House) seeing and doing with the girls? Are they happy? Content? Depressed? How much progress have the girls made? What does the facility look like with all the creative flair added to it? Do they even remember me? I want to visit the Philippines again next year, would it be possible? I feel so useless within the confines of my cubicle, so detached from my reality."

As if my thoughts were broadcasted on national television, my iPhone email alert interrupted my reverie, and all the questions I asked myself were almost answered.

The email I received consisted of updates on My Refuge House and in an instant I was transported to a land far away where I left pieces of my heart in the hands of six girls. I was ecstatic to learn that we acquired 9 young women and girls in the facility! Young women and girls rescued from the sex trade/slavery who now have a chance at a brighter future. How I wish I could meet them!

I continued to read about the success of the fundraising banquet organized by the tireless efforts of the northern California volunteers. They succeeded in raising enough money to sustain My Refuge House for the first quarter of 2010. With admiration and awe I silently sent a prayer of gratitude for the passionate souls who makes MRH a beacon of hope to the young rescued girls. In that moment my restless spirit subsided, my vision cleared, and the daydreaming ceased. I fear the suffocating stench of self-absorption but the email served more than its purpose by handing me a glimpse of the world beyond my cubicle.

(Photos courtesy of Russ B.)
An unwanted visitor at My Refuge House. I was horrified to see this photo as I strolled the grounds of MRH many times during my visit, not realizing creatures of this magnitude were close by. UGH!!! The snake was beaten on the head, killed by the security guard, and then eaten for dinner by the groundskeeper.


One of the prayer rooms the girls have access to. The transformation of this room is astounding! I envy the girls for having a place like this for solitude.