The Weight of the Wait

Have you ever waited on something you wanted so badly? Sometimes it seems the more you want something, the longer it takes to happen, if ever. It could be something as simple as a red light that you REALLY need to turn green. Or it could be a job, a check, test results, a mate, a baby, or a physical healing...

Waiting is exhausting. The longer it goes the heavier it gets. Like holding a glass of water in an outstretched arm. Have you ever tried that? Oh it's no big deal for the first minute...but just keep holding. It will soon feel like a 100 pound weight.

As I was thinking about what it is that makes waiting so hard, it occurred to me that behind every wait is a weight. The weight of the unknown. The weight of failure. The weight of loneliness. The weight of loss or separation or financial ruin. There is some kind of pain or fear or anxiety attached to the wait that none of us want, but all of us experience. It's the weight of the wait.

We all have the common stresses of life and waiting, but sometimes, the big ones come along. Heavier wait equals heavier weight.

I've got some precious sisters in the faith that are waiting. Waiting on things that seem impossible to man. Asking God to do what only He can do. Their weight is heavy. I want to be that friend who comes along and raises my arms and eases their load. But nevertheless...they wait.

So what do we do? Pretend there is no agony in the waiting? Ignore it and move on with the dailiness of our lives? Stop everything and go into hiding until we have our desired outcome?

None of these really seems to work. None of these will speed up the waiting process or make things happen. When nothing changes, the weight of the wait still gets heavier and heavier, whether we are waiting on someTHING or someONE.

If you've followed the story of "M", you will know something of the wait I'm writing about. If not, go back to KimBFR.blogspot.com (or maybe you can just scroll up) and read the first 2 entries because none of this will make sense otherwise. The true story of a beautiful broken girl, caught up in a crazy twisted world of addictions and sex-trafficking. And the saga continues...

It's been nearly 6 months since "M", a client of ours at Bartow Family Resources, spent Christmas with my family, then ran away from rehab. We've heard little from her since then. Friends and family have been praying, law enforcement have been helpful, but no real sign of her until now. This week.

Seems she has ended up in LasVegas with her pimp who just got arrested. He's the one who bailed out of jail 3/2/16 and never reported to his probation officer. What a shock. He is what we call "a frequent flyer". In and out of jail with a rap sheet a mile long but never enough evidence to keep him there. Then he's out, plotting destruction for more precious ones and making sure they have enough heroine in them not to care. A real gem of a guy. Another 100 pounds added to our wait.

The weight of where is she? What abuse is she suffering? Will she overdose? How many clients will he force her to serve tonight? The worry is constant.

If you've ever loved a self-destructive person, you know. I didn't WANT to care this much, I just couldn't help myself. She's infectious. In her right mind she is loving, smart, hysterically funny, sensitive, self aware, and just plain fun. In her addicted mind she is mean, manipulative, combative, selfish and reckless. All things to worry about.

The worry of what's next and when will all this come to an end? And how? What bad decision will she make next? When will she see the light, catch a break or a breakTHROUGH and have a prodigal son (or in this case daughter) experience? And the constant feeling of "what else should I be doing to help"? Maybe you can relate?

Our latest word was that "M" was hitchhiking from Vegas. Now there's a comforting plan. She did, however, manage to get money for a bus ticket to get her to Texas, where "some guy" she partied with in Vegas will drive her to Georgia.

Hmmm.....I would love to be more optimistic but this is the rationale of an addict. One broken and bleeding. Desperate. Yet a precious one loved deeply by her Heavenly Father...and running from Him with everything she's got.

When I think about it that way, I'm sobered. How is her running any different from mine? Maybe I've not run off or been lured to Vegas by a pimp, but I've certainly done my share of running. Running from truth. Running from hardships. Running from God's love, forgiveness, correction and even at times, His will for my life. It's not what or who we run TO that makes our stories similar, it's who we run FROM that's the equalizer.

And so...I would ask you dear friends to once again pray for our precious "M". Pray for her safety, for divine intervention along every step of her journey, but most of all for a true change of heart. One that will give her confidence to approach the throne of grace again...knowing the arms of her Father are wide open, waiting to embrace her, forgive her, and heal her.

My solace? Jesus feels the weight of our wait. And certainly God the Father felt it when he waited 33 years without His beloved son by His side and then 3 long days for Jesus to resurrect from the dead. And I believe He feels it for every prodigal.

He waits on "M" as he's waited on me...and on each one of us, with expectation and longing.

Running is weary. So as I pray for "M" to stop running, I pray that any of us who are praying for her will see ourselves in her story. That we too will stop running from Him in any area of our lives where we are resisting His ways, and find rest in Him today, "for My yoke is easy and My burden light". Matt 11:30

"So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." Luke 15:20

When Darkness Comes...

Sequel to "Who Needs Rehab"...

It's been 5 months since "M" entered rehab. It's no stretch to say she is a different person. The addictions of her past are now a distant memory, or so it would seem. Yet every day her old mistakes impact her daily life. Her schedule is rigid, choices are limited, and freedoms few. But it's better than the alternative of serving her sentence in Cobb County jail.

Earning a holiday pass is a big deal. It's not a right, it's a privilege, one "M" looked forward to for months. But where would she go for Christmas? With her dad 5 hours away and her mom a bi-polar alcoholic, what options did she have? The decision was clear. She would come with me.

The window was small, only 48 hours. Though I had never had a friend in rehab over for Christmas, how hard could it be? It would be great. I would do my best to make it special and made sure the rest of the family was on board.

Our time together would begin promptly at 6:30pm, December 23rd. Thankfully, I had my friend and ministry partner, Cindy, traveling with me. Her love for "M" is just as deep as mine.

The rain was pouring as we set out in the dark. "Lord, please protect us. Give us a beautiful time with "M". Don't let us do or say anything that would hurt her. Let this be a great Christmas for her." The raging storm and lightening made our one hour trip extra long. In retrospect, we should have seen that storm as a foreshadowing of what was to come...

The rehab house was crazy with activity and families crowding in the tiny space to pick up their loved ones. One of the girls handed me a sheet of paper and asked me to sign. I looked at it over and over, trying to read and take it in, but that proved to be impossible. Four girls were doing an exercise routine in the small den, 2 girls I knew were in the kitchen just finishing their cooking duties and we had already started a conversation about why they were not able to leave for Christmas. They were sad so Cindy and I tried to comfort and encourage them.

Suddenly, "M" popped inside. "I'm ready Ms Kim!" I looked back at my paper, scratched my name on the required line, handed it back to the girl, and we loaded the car in the pouring rain. Soaked to the bone."M", was still non-stop straight out of the shoot.  "I'm so excited! We're going to have the best time! Guess what we learned this week? (No pause) We learned in group that our woundings are the way we draw closer to God." "That's awesome "M", I said. Without skipping a beat, she asked, "What's the one thing everyone has in common but they never want to talk about?" "I don't know "M", their feelings?" "No Ms.Kim, it's their failures. We all have them, but we pretend like we don't." "You're right "M". I never thought about it that way." She continued with one insightful revelation after the other. Her 15 hours of weekly Christian counseling were paying off in huge dividends, and for the moment, it was all soaking in.

After lots of laughs and a fun stop at Chick-fil-A and Kohl's, we wound our way back through the rainy, 50 mile trek to my house..

"We've got your room all set up downstairs." I could hardly wait. We had a fuzzy purple robe with her initials monogrammed on the left collar, all laid out on the bed and waiting to greet her. As we entered the room, she saw it. "Is this for me? I've never had anything with my initials on it. I love it." She picked it up and stroked it with care.

It was getting late and we were both exhausted. After settling in and visiting with our family, it was lights out...but the storm outside continued to rage.

Around 4 in the morning, the lightening was so intense there was no way to sleep. The noise was like a freight train. Was this a tornado? The house was pelted with hail and shook from a wind like I've never heard. As soon as it came, it left. A loud crack and snap. Did we still have a roof? After a quick inspection, all seemed well.

After only a couple of hours of sleep, I woke up to the smell of sausage, something I NEVER wake up to at my house. Creeping curiously into the kitchen, I found her, wrapped in her new purple robe and washing the last dirty pan. "Ms Kim, I hope I didn't wake you. I got up at 5:00. I just wanted to make you and Mr Jeff and the boys a special breakfast to let you know how grateful I am to be here."

Each plate was filled with smoking sausage, scrambled eggs, 2 pieces of beautifully browned french toast and garnished with a fresh strawberry. WOW! I could get used to this house guest! What a special way to start our Christmas Eve. It was as delicious as it was beautiful.

After breakfast, it was time for daylight to reveal more about that storm. A huge tree lay broken from its trunk in the back yard. From the looks of it, a straight line wind or small tornado came straight across the river and into our back yard. We were the only ones hit, but were thankful it was no worse.

The day could not have gone better as "M" enjoyed a brief visit with her mom and little girl. She got a badly needed hair cut and we came back to my kitchen to prepare Christmas Eve dinner. "M" was a fabulous help and quick learner."I've never made Christmas dinner before Ms Kim. In fact, my family has never had Christmas dinner." "Really M? What did you eat for Christmas at your house?" "Oh, I don't even know. Nothing special. My mom probably made fajitas. We never celebrated holidays."

Our menu: prime rib, potato casserole, roasted brussel sprouts, garlic toast, and homemade chocolate pudding. It was perfect. Everything was in the warmer as we headed to church for Christmas Eve service. "M" loved every song and joined in the worship wholeheartedly. Her nose began to run and her sneezing was constant. I could tell a cold was coming on.

After church and a fabulous dinner together, it was time for a few presents. Her face was red and eyes were watering. I could feel her head was feverish but she didn't dare complain. She bowed her head. "Lord, please heal me and take away this cold." She snuggled down in her new robe. "Let me give you some medicine honey. I want you to feel good on Christmas." I said. After shuffling through the medicine cabinet, I found some Claritin D. "I don't know Ms Kim. We don't take medicine at our rehab house. Will this mess up my drug test?" "No" I quickly said. "This is not a prescription, it's just over the counter." With that, she swallowed it.

Everyone headed for bed so Santa could come. I tucked her in and prayed, "Lord, please heal "M" and give her a great night of rest so she can enjoy Christmas Day. Thank you for allowing her to be with us."

There is something magical about Christmas morning. The joy of celebrating Jesus, anticipation of special gifts, time with family, and everyone's favorite dishes make it impossible not to cherish the time. I would put the breakfast casserole and homemade cinnamon rolls right in the oven, then tackle those dirty dishes from last night so we didn't have to think about them later.

As I walked toward the kitchen in the early morning light, I heard rustling. It was "M" wiping down the counter. My jaw dropped as I saw every dish from the night before cleaned and put in it's place. Spotless. The entire kitchen was spotless. "M" what have you done?!" "Well, I woke up at 3:45" she said. "but I felt like I had been asleep forever! So I just got up and cleaned the kitchen for you. I mean, I don't think the boys really get it and you deserve a break too. I couldn't really buy you a present so...I hope you like it". "M" you are amazing! I'm so sorry you didn't sleep longer but I'm really grateful. A clean kitchen is the BEST Christmas gift."

As all the boys roused, it was time for presents! We had "M" a burlap stocking with red ruffles monogrammed and hanging with our boys' stockings. They were stuffed with Starbucks, candy, beef jerky for the boys and lip gloss for "M". Everyone had a pile of gifts and they each took turns opening. It was just as much fun as I had hoped it would be.

After breakfast, I gave "M" another Claritin D. "The last one really seemed to help." I said. "Maybe this will clear you up for good!"

As quickly as she had come, it was time for her to leave. Cindy was taking "M" to the movies and driving her back to the rehab house since we were headed out of town. I helped her pack and organize some of her new things: a camera, shoes, and a curling iron. She was so grateful and happy.

With a final hug to me, Jeff, and all the boys, she was gone. Little did I know that would be the last time I would see her.

Six hours later, my phone rings. I don't recognize the number and ignore the call. It's Christmas night, we are in the floor at my parent's house in Alabama, laughing and opening gifts. It rang again, so I got concerned. I answered. "Ms Kim, I failed my drug test! They are saying I took drugs but you know I didn't!" "M" calm down. It's ok. Maybe it was the cold medicine?! My sister is a nurse, let me ask her. Don't panic. You're innocent. I will talk to the director." Could Claritin D have caused her to fail the dug test?

After a thorough google search, turns out it can, for up to 72 hours. Surely this will be dismissed as no big deal.  I spoke with the lady in charge and explained what happened. "Well Ms Lewis, you signed a piece of paper stating that you would NOT give her over the counter medications." "I did?  I mean, I signed something, but it was so chaotic, I couldn't absorb what I read, much less memorize it! I was only trying to help her. She was sick!" "Well", she said, "this could have big consequences for "M." "Please don't." I begged. "She is doing so well. This was not her fault. I take full responsibility!" With that, the conversation was over.

Friday night rolled into Saturday and Sunday. The prayer requests went out to all my friends. "Please pray for my friend "M". Pray that she does not have harsh consequences as the result of the Claritin D I gave her." Monday came and no word. "Lord, please let things go well for her. This is all my fault."

Suddenly, my phone rang. I don't recognize the number but got it anyway. "Ms Kim, I left. They accused me of using drugs and told me that since it happened on your watch, they were taking you off my visitation list!" My head was spinning. "WHAT?! How could they do this to you? We will fix this! Where are you?" It's still pouring rain. "I'm down the street at This N' That" "I will come get you, "M". Don't leave! I will be there in an hour. Do you have all your things?" "Yes, stuffed in garbage bags." "OK "M", listen to me. Let me call your case worker before we do anything. I don't want to rush in and make this worse. She can fix this. I will explain the whole thing and maybe you can go back. Let me call her right now." So I did. She was shocked . She had no idea what had taken place. I asked her to call me back once she called the director in charge. I would wait for her advice before I did anything. So I waited...and waited...and waited.

Two hours passed. It was now 5:30pm. The caseworker called me back but the news was not good. The "rehab rule" is that once you leave, you cannot come back for 30 days. NO EXCEPTIONS. "Are you kidding me?" I asked. "What is she supposed to do?" "Well", her caseworker said, "She is going to have to figure that out." "Well I will come and get her and she can stay with me until we do!"

I called the unknown number back which turned out to be the nice guy who worked at This N' That. She had been borrowing his phone and called "lots of people" according to him. "M", I'm getting in the car. I will be there in 1 hour. Stay put!" A frantic voice responded, "No Ms Kim. I can't bring you into this." "What do you mean? I'm already in this?" "No Ms Kim! Your boys are too good." "What does that have to do with anything "M"?" How I wish I would have known what she was thinking. I had no idea...

"A friend of mine will be here in 20 minutes. I will be fine!" she said. "Listen "M", I'm coming and that's that!" 'No! Please don't! I won't be here!" she said. "Well then you better call me....PROMISE you will call me the minute you get into the car. I want to know who you are with and where you are going! I will pick you up in the  morning and we will make a plan." "OK Ms Kim, I promise. I WILL call you."

I was nearly hysterical. How could this have happened? The 5 day storm outside continued to rage...

At 7:00 a call came from yet another unknown number. I snatched it up. "M" are you ok?" "Yes Ms Kim. I'm good. I'm with my friend." "Well let me talk to her. Who is this?" "This is "C". "C who?" I asked. She gave me a name. "Well are you with Out of Darkness ministries? Who are you with?" "No one. I'm just me" she replied. Huge red flag. How far back into her past had M gone? Her life of drugs and prostitution were nothing more than a speck in her rearview mirror. Surely not.

"Well where do you live and where are you taking her?" "I'm going to lose you" she quickly said. "My phone is on 1%. I live in Cartersville at ...." "Are you taking her there? I will meet you TONIGHT and get her." "Well, she wants to just go to her mom's house since it's so late." "Let me talk to her." I said sternly..."M" I will come and get you in the morning from your mom's, ok?" Her mom was toxic for her and we both knew it. "Ok Ms Kim" Then the phone went dead... I tried to call back. No answer.

Wringing my hands with worry, I could hardly settle down for the night. I didn't feel good about this plan at all. By 8:30pm, I begged my husband to help me look for her. We rode by her mom's, no sign of her. We rode by the address she gave me. No sign. The storm outside continued. The rain was so hard we could hardly see out the windows. I would have to just trust she was safe. My stomach was sick with the present and foreboding sense of darkness.

Eager to get her back to safety, I called her mom the next morning. "I'm on my way to get "M". Is she ok?" Her response froze my blood..."I don't know what you're talking about. "M" didn't come here last night. I've not seen her or heard from her."

Panic set in. I called the old number from last night. "Where did you take "M"? She is NOT at her mom's!" "I dropped her off at the door. We were in a cab so we left." More panic. A cab? "M" had no money! Who would've PAID for a cab for her from Cartersville to Dahlonega? And how would she ever pay them back? The potential answers scared me to death.

THINK KIM, THINK. Who could I call. Who could help me? The guy at This N' That. Maybe he knew who she talked to. He would have the numbers in his phone! I called and quickly introduced myself. "Well ma'am, me and my wife have been praying for her. I could tell she was in a bad way. I would be glad to give you the numbers, but I deleted them all. She called so many people, I had to." My heart sank. The pit of my stomach was reeling. "Oh...well can you tell me anything? Anything at all that would help me?" "Yes ma'am. I heard a guy's voice. He sounded real serious and it made me nervous for her." "Well she is in danger. Please tell me anything else you can remember." "Well, I talked to her a long time about the Lord. She was listening real intent. I told her she needed to go with the right people. Before we locked up the store, I told her she could wait under the porch for her ride. She looked and me and said, 'I think I've made a terrible mistake.' That's about all I remember. I've been real worried about her ever since." "Me too, Albert. Thank you for your time. If anyone calls you looking for her, PLEASE give me their number." He promised he would.

The details get crazy from here. Through a sickening confirmation, we knew she was with her old pimp. The one who used to beat her, put her up for sale to the highest bidder on craigslist and backpage, flush her head down the toilet and keep her high on drugs. That one. What was she thinking? How could a dose of Claritin D turn into this? "God please rescue her! How does this happen?" became my constant cry.

The frenzied days and weeks ahead started by sending a message to the evil one she ws with, demanding her safe return. He was spooked for sure. We filed a missing person's report, counseled with Out of Darkness Ministries, and worked with the Drug Task Force, all the while praying like crazy. So many who have a heart for "M" and haven't even met her began praying for her with passion, "Protect her Lord! Bring her back safely."

Three weeks have passed, and no news. After all these months of freedom from darkness, the monster has taken her back. There is a name for this evil...Sex Trafficking. It has been surreal and beyond sobering to think that is she out there on the streets somewhere, being used like a vending machine by predators. 

The fight is real. We will not stop looking, praying, searching and hoping for her...but for now...darkness has come.

So what is our response?

Psalm 107:14 "He brought them ouf of darkness, the utter darkness, and broke away their chains."

Isaiah 29:15 "Woe to those (Traffickers) who go to great depths to hide their plans from the Lord, who do their work in darkness and think, 'Who sees us? Who will know?'"

Believe with us for her freedom and that of so many others. Darkness will not have the last word...

Isaiah 49:9  "to say to the captives, 'Come out', and to those in darkness, 'Be Free'!"

Who Needs Rehab???

I don't know what I thought when I took this job as a Pregnancy Center Director. I knew I was called to love women. Serve women. Help women. Pray for women and their children. And hopefully, see THEM changed and empowered by the Holy Spirit. But I didn't expect that their lives would change mine. At least not in the beginning...

Let me introduce you to "M", a client of our center for over 4 years. When I came 2 years ago, I was instantly in love. Her radiant bubbly personality lit up the center every time she came in. Her beautiful 1 year old with his bouncy brown curls would usually fall asleep on my shoulder as she took a parenting class. She struggled as a single mom, working fast food with little family support. "M" told us many times that we were her "safe place". She loved Bartow Family Resources and we loved her.

We could count on visits from "M" 2 -3 times a week and were disappointed when she didn't show. One week, she didn't.

At first, we thought she must be working extra hours or just busy with the baby. Then 1 week turned into 2 and then 3. Something was wrong. Her phone was not working and any attempt to track her down led to dead ends. Then one day in January, she popped in. Very distressed and on the verge of tears. She needed diapers and some clothes for the baby. She shared that she had lost her job and things were getting bad. She was about to lose her car and her apartment and she wasn't sure what she was going to do.

We prayed for her and told her we would help in any way we could. But when we went to give her our usual hugs, she burst into tears and flew out our front door, unwilling to let us console her. Something was wrong....very wrong.

The months that followed were silent. No "M". Why was she avoiding us and what was she going through that she was too afraid to tell us? Our minds raced with fear and suspicion.

After checking with every friend she had, it occurred to me that I had once gone with "M" to her mom's apartment. I realized that the only answers we might get would lie with her. So off I went.

Unsure of which door, I knocked on 3 before I found her. As her mom came toward me, so did the strong smell of alcohol. She fell into my arms and proclaimed in tears, "M is gone!" " Gone?" I asked, "What do you mean gone?" "She's running the streets of Atlanta with a pimp" she said "and I'm so afraid she is going to die." It was a sobering story. Our bubbly, smart, funny, precious "M" had been lured away by the promise of money and a better life. She was being trafficked.

For the next 5 months, our staff cried. We prayed. We begged God to find "M" and rescue her. We stalked a facebook page that had her name, but no pictures and no posts. Weird. I made posts weekly begging her to call us and letting her know we loved her and would come to Atlanta anytime to pick her up. I left my personal cell number on post after post, and waited...but no call came.

By now it was May, but instead of waning, our efforts and desire to find her had only intensified. She was out there somewhere, being abused night after night, thinking less and less of herself and most surely losing hope. "God, spare her life and rescue her" became our constant plea. It was more than we could bear.

Then it came. A call from her mom telling us "M" had been arrested. THANK YOU JESUS! At least she is safe and off the streets. This was the breakthrough we had been hoping for for over 5 months.

After getting our names on the Cobb County Correctional Facility visitation list (a first for both of us), our Executive Director, Maryland and myself made our appointment to see "M" and drove 25 miles to the jail. We were nervous and excited all at the same time. By now, it had been had been nearly 6 months since we had seen her. Would she talk to us? Would she be afraid to trust us with the truth? Only God knew.

As we entered the facility for the first time, our eyes were wide. The children and mothers and parents and wives and yes, even husbands, waiting to see their loved ones was heart breaking. After being shown the protocol, Maryland and I were ready. We breathed a prayer as we were fingerprinted and allowed to pass through a metal security bar. We would not be seeing "M" face to face. She was in an entirely separate building and would be seeing us by monitor only. She had no idea who would appear on the other side of her screen. She only knew that she had a visitor and she was as anxious as we were.

We were seated in front of a small screen with only a hand set on the wall to speak into. The clock in the lower right hand of the screen was counting down to 30 minutes, which we were told was the maximum amount of time we could visit. We prayed again, "Lord, please show us what to say. Let "M" know we love her and don't condemn her. Use us to give her renewed hope."

Butterflies flew in our stomachs as the minutes turned to seconds and we knew we would soon be live. The screen flickered, then went out. What happened? Did she see us and get scared? What if she doesn't take our visit? We would be devastated. Ten seconds passed, then twenty as we held our breath. Then, there she was. Long red hair wet from a recent shower, eyes downcast. As soon as she saw us, the tears came for all 3 of us. There were no words on either side of that screen. Only hands. Our trembling hands went up to touch the screen and she did the same. "Thank y'all for coming. I can't believe you still remember me." she shamefully said.

"Are you kidding us?" we whispered. "You're all we've thought about. "M" we have MISSED you so much. We've been looking for you everywhere. We were so scared." She slowly got the courage to face our steady gaze. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." she said.  "It was so awful out there. I tried to leave but I was in more of a prison out there than I am in here."

We swallowed back the emotion. The scripture came to mind, "He draws us by cords of loving-kindness". "Lord, draw her to You by Your loving-kindness. Let her see Your love through us" was our plea.

As quickly as it came, our 30 minutes was over. We prayed with her and left, promising another visit soon.

As God would have it, our 3rd partner at the center, Cindy Smith, had just spoken with a new contact she had made from a ministry called Out of Darkness, an organization that helps women leave prostitution, drug addiction and life on the streets. Within a few weeks, we had our new contact set up to meet with "M" at Cobb County jail and interview her as a potential client. The meeting went so well that our friend made "M" an offer. She could go into their 18 month Christian-based rehab program and find a new life, or run the risk of staying in jail or go back to this same life she just left out on the streets. It didn't take "M" long to make her choice. She agreed to go into their residential program upon her release. But no one knew when that would be.

Miraculously, in less than a month, the judge released "M" and she left the correctional facility with trained Out of Darkness ministry leaders and headed for their safehouse. We could have no contact with her, but received a few updates from her caseworkers that she was doing well and cooperating with the program. We were thrilled.

A month later, we were informed that "M" would be transferred to her rehab home, Abba House, for at least 15 months and that we could have no contact with her for the first 30 days. Our staff prayed and waited knowing she could run away at any time and disappear from our lives again.

October 3rd, 2015. "M" could finally have a visitor. The only person she had seen face to face since her arrest was her dad, and that was only once. If I was willing to be trained in the Abba House orientation program, her next visitor could be me.

I followed all the protocols, and found myself driving over an hour to see "M" for what would be the first time (in person) since January. I had never visited a rehab home. This was a first for both of us. Fear began to grip me. What was I thinking? I was just a mom who helped pregnant women. I had no formal training for helping a drug addict or a sex trafficking victim. What would I say to her? What if I accidentally broke a rule? I was thrilled and terrified at the same time

I found her residential group home and parked near the front porch. A few girls had come out to greet me and found out that I was there to see "M". "Oh my gosh!"one exclaimed. "She is going to be so excited! She has told us all about you!" We had been exchanging letters for a couple of months. Each one was a treasure. They told me to get out and wait on the porch. "M" would be walking from the house next door in a few  minutes.

Finally, I saw her red head bouncing down the trail. She looked up to the porch, saw me, and started waving wildly. She picked up her pace as I left the porch. We met in the middle and hugged so tightly I thought we would fall backward. It was a joy-filled tear-filled moment. She quickly introduced me to all her friends and their precious children who were living there as well. It was a radiantly beautiful bunch.

Instead of gaunt faces filled with rehab shame, I was met with bright smiles, hugs, and girls who were truly happy. Happy for their friend to finally have a visitor and happy their futures were now filled with hope. It was humbling.

Our 2 hours flew by. "M" shared with me that she had truly received Christ and had been baptized 2 weeks before. I wished I could have been there. She was full of joy and hope for her future for the first time in a long time. I was amazed at how clear her thinking was and how introspective and responsible she sounded. We had always laughed at her incessant talking. Her ADD or ADHD or whatever it was only endeared her to us all the more. She was much calmer today and shared her quiet time journal with me. It was profound. I couldn't believe the wisdom and insight she had after such a short time at Abba House. I was thankful she was there and she was thankful we had connected her with Out of Darkness.

I prayed for her and we tearfully parted ways with the promise of another visit soon. Two weeks later, her mom called. "Kim, when you get "M" this week end, you can't bring her here! All those people she used to run with live across the street from me. She can't come here!" I was more than confused. Was I supposed to get her this weekend? Was I even allowed? Was she even allowed to leave?

After checking with her case worker, I learned "M" had earned her first 8 hr pass for Sunday, October 25th, and I was the only one who could take her, other than her dad, who lived 5 hours away. This would be big as "M" had not ventured into the outside world since April. And that had  not gone so well.

Since phone calls are limited, I could not speak with her but communicated through her caseworker that I would be there by 12:30 Sunday, and I was. She looked beautiful! Her long red hair was rolled in curls and her outfit was very modest and becoming, something "M" was not known for.

She was beside herself to leave the property without a staff member and I was thrilled to have this time with her. Since meals and clothes are very limited at Abba House....we would hit the buffet AND the outlet mall. We would go wherever she wanted to go and do whatever she wanted to do for the next 6 hours! and we did...

Within a few minutes of pulling off the property, the tears started. "I'm so excited Ms Kim. Thank you so much for taking me today. Can we stop and get a coke and a candy bar?" The girls are not allowed sweets, sugar, caffeine or bread at Abba House as they are detoxing and cleansing their bodies of any and all addictions, but "pass" days are different. Luxuries are allowed because they have been earned. We made a quick stop for caffeine and candy then headed to our destination.

On the way, we got behind a car. You know, the kind with stick figure stickers representing each family member. She said, "My friend at Abba House saw a car with those stickers the other day. It made us both sad. It reminded us that we don't have a husband or a family and after you sleep with everybody, no one wants you anymore." She buried her face in her hands and started to cry.

I reached for her arm and called her name, "M", that's not true. God has a beautiful future and a wonderful man out there for you somewhere, but right now, He wants You to focus on Him so He can remake you." She began to settle down and before long, was sharing with me the 6 new Bible verses she had memorized. These were not like "Jesus wept", they were long. Long and powerful. She said, "This is more about the Bible than I've ever known my WHOLE life!" She was being transformed, and everything about her life and thinking was being made new.

"M" had never been to the beautiful mountain town of Dahlonega nor had she ever strolled in and out of cute quaint shops, admiring beautiful clothes, handmade ornaments or unique jewelry. She was in awe. "My momma never took me to places like this Ms Kim. I've always dreamed of doing this. It's just what I thought. It's so pretty. Thank you for bringing me."

We slowly made our way to the family style restaurant I knew she would love. At Abba House they can only have 1 plate of food each meal. No seconds and no say so in the menu. Here, she could have anything she wanted and all she wanted.

Two other couples joined us at our family style table. They looked nice enough but I cringed as I realized "M" and I would not have much privacy for conversation. What was I thinking? The last thing I wanted was for her to be embarrassed in front of strangers for living at a half-way house or heaven forbid her dark past be exposed. It was none of their business and I would be sure to protect her if the conversation took a turn.

It didn't take long for the older man on my right to ask "So, where are y'all from?" "Cartersville" I quickly replied, hoping he wouldn't get too chatty or direct any questions to "M".

All our staff loves that "M" is a talker. That had not changed. As lunch was served, she began to give me details, quite loudly, about life at Abba House and how they take turns cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry. I was beginning to sweat because she is anything but quiet. In the back of my mind I'm thinking "this little man is going to figure this out! His wife will be appalled when she realizes they are having lunch with a former drug addicted prostitute. I will be so mad if they hurt her feelings!" I was planning my speech.

By now "M" had moved from sharing mundane details about life at Abba House and was telling me what she was learning from her counseling sessions and group therapy. "Ms. Kim, do you know the story of Gomer?" "Yes M". "Well, Mr Jonathan, our counselor taught us that we are all like Gomer. It's not just the prostitutes! We all run away from God and chase after our own thing. But God is like Hosea, always running after us. It's a small book Ms Kim, but it has a BIG meaning." "Yes it does "M". I'm so proud of  you."

Now I'm not sure if Mr chatty pants knows who Gomer and Hosea are, but "M" has said MORE than enough to peak his curiosity. My palms are sweaty and I can feel him looking our way.

Then, as if in slow motion, it happened...."So" Mr curious says, addressing "M", "What exactly do you do? Are you a student here or something?" I froze. I wanted to blurt out...."None of your business jack! Now gobble up some more of those turnip greens you've been scarfing down and leave us be!" But I went silent. I knew it was not my question to answer. It was hers.

"M" took a quick breath, looked him square in the face and said, "Well, I live in a residential treatment center for women who are broken, and Jesus is healing us." You could have heard a pin drop. Mr chatty had nothing, but his wife was all ears. "M" continued, "We rely on God and Jesus and He speaks to us and we write it in our journals and we share it in group. We learn to listen to our inner core and find out where the pain we feel is coming from."

In a low tone, I hear Mr chatty ask his wife if she could pass the green beans. I'm sure he is sorry by now that he ever sat by us or directed a question to "M". Astounded that he has quit engaging her, "M" elaborated. "For example, if we were all around this table in group right now, we would be talking about what Jesus had spoken to us in our quiet time and how we plan to implement that in our daily lives. We don't take medicine to help our pain, we face it through prayer."

WOW. By now I'm at a complete loss for words and can feel the awkwardness of these 2 speechless couples. The women are nearly in tears but the 2 men are all eyeballs. The look of pure shock. That's what we all love about "M", she totally ignores body language and sees awkward silence as just an opportunity for her to keep talking. So she did.

After sharing more details with 4 perfect strangers than anyone would want to know, she summed up her speech, looked at me and said, "Well Ms. Kim, I'm ready to go if you are. I want to see this town! I've enjoyed being table mates with y'all!" And with that, we left. She was perfectly at peace with all she had shared and cared not one bit that they knew she was in a "rehab house". She was proud. Really proud, because Jesus was changing her and she wanted everyone to know it!

We had a wonderful day together that couldn't have gone better. After driving back to Abba House, I prayed with her and said good-bye. I had a long time to think as I drove home.
It wasn't pretty. Why was I squirming so at our lunch table? Was it really because I was afraid for her to be "exposed" as a girl in rehab, or was it because I was afraid she was making those strangers uncomfortable talking about Jesus?

I have to admit it was the later. After all, these people were here to relax and enjoy a leisurely lunch in a beautiful mountain town. They didn't sign up to ponder the Almighty over their meat and 3! But "M" hadn't cared at all. She didn't care that they knew she was a broken woman living in a rehab home with a bunch of former addicts and she didn't care that they knew Jesus ALONE was healing her. In fact, she wore it like a badge of honor.

So why did it bother me? Why was I so uncomfortable? I didn't really have to ask. I knew. Pride.

You see, MY pride would have kept me from uttering a word if I had been the one in rehab. They would never have known that I was a broken woman in group therapy, studying the Bible and listening for Jesus to speak to me and heal MY broken heart. Oh no! They would never have known and my pride would have made sure .

Instantly, I remembered the woman at the well. Her story had much more in common with "M" than my own, yet Jesus saw fit to record it for all eternity. He said to her, "You are living with a man who is not your husband," yet she didn't run from him. And to the woman caught in adultery, Jesus said "go and sin no more".  Neither of them allowed shame or pride to keep them from hearing His words or responding to His truth. They were drawn to Jesus like water to a parched ground. So much so, that the woman at the well went out and told the whole town about Jesus....just like "M".

So, back to my question. Who needs rehab? If rehab means "restoring to a condition of good health and maintenance" then maybe it's me. The Bible teacher, LifeGroup leader, and ministry Director in desperate need of spiritual rehab. Me. The one who needs to care a little less about what people think, and a little more about what Jesus thinks. Me. The one who is often too proud to let anyone see that she too is broken, fearful, bruised, TOTALLY in over her head, and in desperate need of a Savior. Thank you "M" for reminding me that I too am Gomer, one prone to stray, and that I need Jesus EVERY BIT as much as you do...and probably more.