Saturday, 25 July 2015

Number Thirty Seven

Blog number 37, viewer 6 000 + 
Each post I think may be my last. I hope to be authentic and original in my writing. I never want it to be lukewarm, watered down, or nostalgic.  
I thought I was going to take some time off writing and running. I have been told by many people to write a book, none of them are authors or editors. (possibly these people want to stop reading my blog) This is my latest writing of what I thought was to be my summer off. Images appeared to me and I felt I was to write what they represent.

By taking the bite of the fruit and offering it to her husband Adam; Eve (worlds first woman) dipped her foot in the pool that is known as sin.
Cain, Eve`s first born son murdered his brother Abel, and jumped into the pool of sin head first as a lot of men are prone to do.

This is a picture of our family pool while some work was being completed. To me it represents what sin looks like. 
Any man who abuses, humiliates, or tortures a child is stepping into this filthy water. Unfortunately they take their victims with them.

This is a picture of our pool now. To me it represents what God`s plan is for our lives. For some reason even though we should know better we are prone to immerse ourselves in the upper picture, more than the lower.

I have already started planning long range for my next year races. Next spring I will embark on a week long run to my marathon destination. Hopefully I will than run a full marathon. This required a driver, checked off. Wife permission?
Last weekend Gloria and I watched a documentary on desert runners. Four runners tried to run races that took place in four different deserts over the course of a year. Each race consisted of four days of an almost marathon. The fifth day is a 100 km race to the finish line. The temperature in The Sahara desert on the day of the long run was 50 C or 122 F. One runner collapsed, one runner died. I could not imagine the will power, the mental strength needed to finish this race.
Strangely it appealed to me. I asked Gloria if she would ever let me try this race? A very resounding no came back to me, seconded by Katarina.
I guess what I have planned seems mild in comparison and I have indeed been granted wife permission.

One day I walked into my side yard to witness the beginning of an aftermath of destruction.

 Lucy, one of our families cats had caught a baby mouse and was "playing" with it. Isabella put Lucy in the house and put the baby mouse in a shoe box.
I called a wildlife center to ask for advice. Isabella was very upset. I hugged her and told her the best chance for this mouse was to have it`s mother come back for it. I also told Isabella I was praying for the mouse. I did pray but resisted the temptation to promise anything if God somehow saved this mouse, experience has taught me I am not very good at keeping my rash promises.
After a while the baby mouse was put into a place where we thought its nest was. A few minutes later Lucy somehow got out of the house and found the mother mouse. After putting Lucy back into the house again, we looked after the mother.

We put the mother mouse in the same vicinity as we had put the baby. Isabella gave an up to the minute report of hearing the mother making noise, and not seeing the baby.
After a while Isabella did not hear any mouse noises, and could not find either mouse. Whether or not they were reunited I do not know, I hope so, I prayed so.

Some friends and family members weighed in on this story. "Mice are rodents, and a nuisance." "You and your daughter could not live on a farm." "Your daughter has to be less sensitive."
Some of my thoughts after reflection. Does the world we live in need more rational, cold, passionless, judgemental people? Could the world not use more passionate, caring, loving people willing to do whatever necessary to help those in need? God made my daughter this way, and though I know she has a tough road ahead, and have wondered about such a heart in this world. I would not change this part of her makeup.

This story resonated with me on so many different levels. Lucy represented the pedophiles, the baby mouse represented the victims in Cambodia and others places in the world, Isabella and myself represented the reaction of the people of this world. Lucy is a cat and does not know any better, but still she terrorized these mice. The pedophiles in Cambodia have no such excuse. I again am reminded at being told by a very wise woman many years ago "Do not even try to understand the evil that is behind the abuse of these children." I cannot for the life of me understand what could motivate a human being to derive pleasure from inflicting pain and suffering on another, especially a child.

I have always been surprised at the number of men compared to women in the area of my involvement as a volunteer for Ratanak International and their work in helping victims of trafficking, and sexual exploitation. A rough estimate to me seems to be that eight out of ten volunteers are women. 
In the earlier story my first reaction was to be angry, and punish Lucy.
Many men I know talk about what they would like to do to the men who abuse women and children. This is a normal, acceptable reaction. But it is not enough!
Too often we as men overlook the victim. If I am mad at Lucy but ignore the baby mouse I am failing in my duty, because possibly I was made aware of the situation more to help the victim, than to punish the perpetrator.
To save the baby mouse I was willing to take a day off work, drive it to a wildlife shelter, and pay whatever fee was expected. I did not worry of the cost, or time, or whatever others thought of me.
My reaction encouraged me as I think of my role in the bringing of justice to woman and children in Cambodia.
I do love animals myself  but my reaction to help was based upon how much it broke my heart to see how much my daughter was hurting for this baby mouse.

I am a marathon runner. Most marathon runners are not complex. A shirt in a recent race summed up mine and many other of my fellow runners thoughts "left, right repeat for 26.2 miles."
I have no long range plans, or ways to bring about the change I so long to see.
BUT God has given me a passion, and a dream to see the buying and selling of young woman and children in Cambodia for sexual exploitation end. How? When? Who will be involved?  I do not know? But I do know that God cares more about me and my hurt at the victims in Cambodia than I cared about Isabella`s pain.
God also cares more about the victims in Cambodia`s pain than Isabella did for the baby mouse.
God is not limited in his resources, and time as I am. I plod along now "left, right repeat" for as long as it takes.
But God knows how, when, and who will bring about His desired change.



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