My opinion, or lack thereof on Equal Marriage

I want to write something about the incredible amounts of Facebook posts I have seen over the past two days about equal marriage.

I want to write something that talks about how I wish we would stop talking about this.

And then again, I don't want to write anything at all because it would be giving this topic the acknowledgement it doesn't deserve.

Why in the God's Beautiful Big Green Earth, are we so obsessed with arguing over a topic that divides so many when it is really about love?

If two people love each other and are committed to each other, shouldn't that be the least of my worries?

In a world full of such crippling hate, fear, condemnation, ill-will, torture and hurt, why are we so vehemently controlled by blasting a topic that has love at its core?

A friend of mine, with a great concept of the world in my opinion, John Mowery put it the best I think.

"Just shows people are more motivated by fear than compassion".

The other night, I was taking a train home to Brussels from a work trip. I was passing by the north side of town, and all of a sudden I looked down and see bright red lights in windows lining the street.

And then I saw them. The half-naked girls standing in the windows lining that particular street, looking just like any other manikin in a store window.

We zoomed past this area of town, and I was soon back in my comfortable neighbourhood in the midst of the EU district. But all night and all day today, I could not get that image out of my head.

The red lights, the gawking men, the dark alleys.

Aren't those girls afraid?

" Who is going to hurt me next?" "When will they leave me alone?" ...."When can I go home"...

And then scenes from a film I saw last year jump into my mind (Nefarious: Merchant of Souls- Here is a link to a trailer for the movie..http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYFXy7ROiho ). I remember hearing a prostitute from Amsterdam (where prostitution is legal and has probably the most famous red light district) say during her interview about how she feared for her life daily while doing "her job".

I remember her talking about how she got tricked into joining. She got lured by her "boyfriend" to help make some more cash for the two of them, and eventually , she was hooked on drugs, completely physically, emotionally and spiritually controlled by him, and being physically harmed by men every single night of the week.

She was a legal prostitute. Yet, she was told daily if she left, she would be killed.  She reiterated that MOST (not all, but most) of the legal prostitutes that you see out and about in European cities, are NOT there by their own choice. That at some point, they got tricked and lured down into the wrong direction. She explained that almost none of the women you see in shop windows are there by themselves. Almost 100 percent of them have a man controlling them in the background.

How are we not banding together as a society and trying to triumph this evil? How are we not so stirred and compelled to change our Facebook pictures to anti-slavery, anti-prostitution logos?

Two weeks ago, the "End-it Movement" (an anti-slavery, anti- prostitution movement that has recently gained popularity in the US: http://enditmovement.com/ ) decided to have a "blackout" day for all the people who are bound by the chains of slavery.

The End It Movement asked their followers to change their profile picture to simply a black, blank screen for the day to honor those 27 million who are enslaved around the world.

I had about ten friends (including myself) that did this.

Today, I saw probably 75-100 posts, profile picture changes, and comments in some way shape or form about the equal marriage argument.

I beg you, not as a Christian, but as a human, take a step back and THINK about what is really important. 

More than anything in my life, I want these people who hold others in physical, and mentally slavery to be prosecuted. I want these women, these young ladies, these children, TO BE FREE.

How can I argue about love when there is so much brutally wrong with the world?

Why are we not shouting from the rooftops about the children that are left alone and hungry at night by drug addicted parents? Or about the babies who get sold into slavery by their parents? Or about the precious young girls who fall for the wrong boy and never get to see what real love is?

I am disheartened, disappointed and overall just deeply saddened by what I have seen by many of MY friends and MY followers on social media sites.

I pray the love of Jesus moves us to pay attention to bigger issues next time this type of social hype comes around.

 I pray that we as a human race decide to love the unlovable and choose to take care of the broken, needy, and "least of these" instead of divulging in addicting gossip that divides.

 

Lost

Well I got lost last night.

 

And lost not meaning I couldn't find out which entrance of the mall I parked my car at.

 

(Because you know Penny Bollinger and I have gotten so lost in the mall parking lot before that we had tears coming down our cheeks.....I am pretty sure we have both gotten INSIDE of someone elses car before in that parking lot thinking it was our own lol )

Lost meaning I was in a rough area of Brussels, where everything was written in Arabic, where I was the only woman without a head scarf on.

 

I love to pride myself on being able to get myself from point a to point b in a foreign country successfully. When I am in America, I am much more likely to freak out, pick up my phone, ask my mom or dad where the heck I am and deal with my situation that way.

Well, when you are abroad in a foreign country, that is not really an option. While living in Brussels during my study abroad semester, I soon learned and ended up loving my little quests and adventures to figure out how to get somewhere or how to do a certain thing.

 I depended on just me and Jesus.

 

I would quote scripture verses if I got a bit scared, or I would sing hymns out loud ( Jesus Jesus how I trust thee is one of my favourites).

 

But no matter what, I have always been able to make it home.

 

Even this past week when I had to get back to Brussels after visiting my sweet friend Jess (who it was so wonderful to see and worth every minute of the traveling fiasco! It is so neat and comforting to see a good friend when you haven't seen anyone you really know in so long) in Frankfurt for the night, I felt like I had to move mountains to get back home in the random snow blizzard that hit early that morning.

  My original train got cancelled due to the snow, and I was basically told to "wing it" from some of the train officials. Which is not the greatest thing to tell someone who has a folder for everything and a planner so detailed it tells me when to eat and shower.

 I ended up pissing off two train managers and following one around until she called another train for me, asking them to wait for me (but they didn't unfortunately...I wonder why not??? I was such a calm and easy customer to deal with!). I also ended up taking a few tiny little mini trains and a tram through random cities in Germany and Belgium.

 Each time I would reach a new destination on the way home from Frankfurt, I would shout the name of the city to the other passengers to make sure I was getting off at the right stop. I would say "Ummmm Cologne??" (quite loudly so everyone could hear me) And a few times "Nien/Nay/Non" was shouted back to me by the entire train car to keep me from getting off in the middle of some random farm town in the German countryside.

 People may make fun of me for being loud and a bit fiesty sometimes (mini-Penny), but if I would have gone with just my directional instincts during this trip, I would probably still be out in German farm country right now.  

 Anyway, four hours late, after standing out in the 20 degree weather for a few hours at random train stations, I finally arrived back at work, somehow energized and somewhat proud of myself for what I had just done.

Unfortunately, last night was a bit different.

 I was so excited to have another girl's night at my friend Laurel's house. I have gotten to know some of the greatest girls through the church that Rudolf and I go to here called Holy Trinity. We have had a few nights with just us girls, which means lots of laughing, eating and talking.

 

God has shown me such provision in this area of my life. I was so worried when moving here that I wasn't going to have any good girlfriends here. It has actually been quite the opposite. I have met some amazing girls and our group seems to grow each time we see each other (either at church, small group, a girls' night, or random lunches).

 

I spend a lot of time at work, and a lot of (wonderful, much needed and wanted) time with Rudolf here in Belgium, but it is a lot harder to spend time with these girlfriends because we all live and work in separate places.  I cherish time to get to know them better, have a bible study and just hang out.

 So I was super excited about last night.

 

My friend Laurel lives just on the edge of a rougher part of town called Molenbeek. To me, I had never been there or seen it or anything, so I didn't think there would be any issues with me going over there by myself at night. I had my MapQuest directions all printed out, with each step precisely oriented to where I was supposed to go.

 

I got to the metro, walked out and realized that there were about eight streets going all different ways, all with names I didn't recognize and weren't on my list of directions. So, I picked a street, started walking up it and figured I would run into the correct street somehow.

 

I walked probably a quarter of a mile and started to realize all of the signs for shops were in Arabic. and that I hadn't seen another woman in quite a while.

 

I am a big girl. I can do this.

You live here Bailey Jo, you are going to be just fine.

I walk a bit further. Ask a shop owner directions. He doesn't have any idea where I should go.

I walk even further. Get honked at a few times, take my folded up directions out with shaky, cold hands and press forward.

 

Walk another half mile or so. Get asked if I want to smoke pot by some scary looking man as I am staring up at street signs. And all of a sudden, I was done.

 

It has been about half an hour of me wandering the streets, all of the shops in the street have closed, and I still hadn't seen an inkling of where I am supposed to go.

 

Why at this point in the story didn't I just say a quick prayer, start singing my hymns really loudly and trust that the Lord would get me there?

 

I am not sure. I so wish I could use this as some super cool anointed story to show how when you cry out when your feeling scared, He hears you and shows you right where you are supposed to go.

 

But I think God doesn't always work like that.

 

Sometimes he works through a cell phone that reaches my fiancée and allows him to come pick me up. Sometimes God works through that same cell phone being able to call my big strong daddy back in America to have him pray with me while I wait for Rudolf to get there. Sometimes God works through the easily identifiable Metro sign that I found that would help Rudolf know where to find me. And sometimes, God works through the light coming out of a little Arab shopping market that allowed me to feel safe and aware of my surroundings on a night where I really did feel foreign.

Looking back, I am so thankful for God's provision for me in those ways. No, the Lord did not come out in a blaring light and highlight the perfect route for me. But he did, allow me to push myself as far as I could and then immediately provided for me when I asked for help.

I think it is good to feel fear. I don't like it, but I know somewhere in me that a level of fear is good. It alerts you to your surroundings, pushes you a bit further than you thought was possible, and allows the ones who love you to show their support for you in a time of need.

I am not Bailey "Super World Traveling" Bollinger, as I assumed I was before last night. I am Bailey, a human that can't fix everything just the way she wants it´- a human- so dependent on the Lord Jesus and what/who he provides for me- and I am still my daddy's little  girl who realizes its ok in crazy moments to make a 20 dollar phone call across the ocean.

 

If I haven't encouraged you before... start making a list of things you are thankful for. Every single day.

I am reading a book called 1000 gifts by Ann Voskamp (shameless plug because I love it!!) and it's all about allowing yourself to see the joy of EVERY moment with the Lord throughout life....and it all ties back to being able to give thanks and see Him in all kinds of moments. Ann challenges the reader to have 1000 gifts named by the end of the year....basically it comes down to about 90 a month...and about 3 a day.

 

So today I am thankful for:

                                                    278. My iPhone that can still make phone calls in Emergencies

                                                     279.  My fiancée who was so quick to come rescue me

                                                      280. The Dr. Pepper I let myself have (despite me swearing off sodas for the past two weeks) last night as a treat for being alive and well.

                                                 280.  The brightly lit metro stop sign I found so I could tell R where to go

                                                 281. My Daddy who immediately started praying with me.

                                                   282. The light from the supermarket that made me feel safe.

                                                   283.  Some great girls that totally understand my directional challenges

                                                 284. The possibility of laughing at this experience some day.

 

In the craziness of last night, I couldn't see these things so clearly. But looking back, I see the great big hand of Yahweh stretching out over me.

 

I pray in all kinds of moments, that you can see that too.

Bailey

Brussels Part Two

Well…since the name of this blog is still useful (Brussels and Beyond), I figured I would keep everyone updated with a post or two from time to time.
For those of you that don’t know, about three weeks ago I moved to Brussels for the second time. I had finished my bachelor's degree this past December at Evangel University. I ended up graduating with a Social Science Major focused on law and two minors in international relations and philosophy.

            After Rudolf proposed in May, I really wanted to finish my degree early in order to give us some time in the same city before we got married. I searched high and low for an internship in Brussels in order to further my future career and to give me time in the same city as my fiancée. Incredibly enough, I got a response from a man named Nick at the European Parliament after one of my first emails. He works for Baroness Sarah Ludford at the European Parliament, and he said they are constantly looking for good, English speaking interns. Baroness Ludford is from the UK, her constituency is in London and she  is on the Civil Liberties, Foreign affairs and Human Rights committees at the parliament. Nick and I had a great conversation this past summer. He ended up asking me to join the team for the spring.
            Sometimes I feel as if God opens doors not just for the opportunity that is behind them but for confirmation that He is in front of us and guiding our way. That is exactly how I felt with getting my internship so quickly this summer. It was confirmation straight to my heart that God was ordaining my steps. Not only did I get my internship confirmed, but I found out that my MEP (Member of European Parliament) (Sarah Ludford) was/is passionate and involved with so many of the issues that pull at my heart all the time: human rights and human trafficking and EU-US relations (she is on the US Delegation for the EU and makes a trip to the states to talk to members of Congress every year). Even back in July, I was so shocked and excited to work for a woman that shared some of my passions. I would have been happy to intern under any parliament member….even the ones focused on economics, trade, fishing, food/health, etc….But God’s grace and provision doesn’t just provide for the minimum- He provides for whatever we need to know that we are in His will, following his footsteps in the sand.
            Anyway—I left for Brussels Thursday, January 3rd. Rudolf was here over Christmas break and it was so wonderful to spend the holidays with ALL of my family and friends. It made leaving  even harder. On Thursday morning, I dropped Rudolf off at the airport so he could catch his flight to Atlanta and then to Brussels. I then went home, got all packed, and headed back to the airport. About six months ago when I started looking for flights, I found out Rudolf’s flight would cost me about 400 dollars more than a few other flights I found….So of course, I decided for the cheaper route, knowing that there were many things I could do with 400 dollars with a wedding coming up.
            I got to the airport, scared, anxious but ready with my wonderful momma and dad by my side. We said goodbye, me in sobs, them both in tears…. And somehow I remember a voice inside of me saying, “It’s ok Bailey…this is part of My plan”. I told them that, they smiled and nodded, held me tight and then let me go.
I got to Washington D.C., a little numb from the tears but still in an “ok” emotional state.
            5PM roles around; I am at my gate, ready to board along with the other 400 (or atleast it seemed like it) people on this international flight. At around 5:30, 30 min after we were supposed to start boarding, the United flight people make an announcement that there are mechanical issues with the plane and that we won’t be taking off until atleast 7:30. So, I text Rudolf, my parents, and some friends. Rudolf’s plane was boarding and HE was getting to leave on time. We ended up boarding at around 7:00 PM. We then waited on the plane for about an hour, during which time I watched two TV episodes. Finally around 8 or 830PM we begin to taxi and get ready for take off. Our plane gets to the runway, starts its engine and begins going extremely fast down the run way….And then, we stop, the plane slows down and we begin to circle back to the gate. Our captain makes an announcement… the engine light came on again and the plane was still not fixed. We then disembark the plane. And by disembark I mean …it takes everyone almost 30 minutes to get all their stuff out of the overhead bins, get all the babies in their strollers and walk down the rickety flight of stairs to get back into the airport.
            The United attendants tell us that the plane won’t be ready til at least 10:30PM.  So, all of the passengers attempt to run to get some sort of nourishment that we were being promised on the plane. I ate my food at some random airport restaurant, and  then sat by the gate and waited some more. My “confident and calm” emotional state has all but been lost by now after boarding my plane and then getting off of it. 1030 comes around, they tell us our flight is cancelled and to make our way to the main terminal to get more information. So then the mad dash to try and get a hotel room ensues. I somehow (the Penny inside of me) begin to lead the pack of angry travelers around the main terminal at about 11PM trying to find which United desk on which floor we are supposed to talk to. Eventually, I find it and make my way to a beautiful hotel room with 30 dollars worth of food vouchers. Mom stays up with me until I’m in bed, clean and finally a bit more relaxed. She even finds one of my friends that happened to be in the area through Facebook, got her to text me and make me feel not so alone in a huge city.
            The next morning, after some breakfast in bed by myself, I come to the completely logical decision that I do not want to do this anymore. This room is too quiet. I don’t have all my normal stuff with me. When can I go back to my loud home with my brother, sister and dog roaming about? When do I get to have a family dinner with my favorite people again? When do we get to bicker and fight again about who is doing the dishes? In that moment, the longness of the trip, the lonliness of the huge hotel room, and the great unknown I was about to embark on got to me. And I snapped. And when I mean snap I do not mean a few quiet tears rolling down my cheeks. I mean sobbing in my clothes I have already worn for 24 hours, getting snot all over everything, and FaceTiming my dad at work begging him to just let me stay with him….that Rudolf can find a job over in the states…and I can live in the basement forever….and we can all be happy.
            When I was about five on my second day of Kindegarten, I remember walking into school and some little snot nosed kid that was in my class looked over at me and asked me if I had done my homework. I still, to this day, remember the panic that rose in my chest and the absolute confirming thought in my mind of “oh my dear God I didn’t do my homework….I need help!!!” I dashed back to the car that my dad was in that was thankfully still in the parking lot and grabbed his hand sobbing. I was absolutely NOT going to face this dire circumstance without him. So my big strong dad, took me by the hand, walked me into my class,  and asked the teacher about the “homework”- of which she replied to with “Oh my goodness no of course there is not homework…they are in Kindegarten”. Thank you idiot boy whoever you are for getting me that worked up.

Anyway, throughout my life there have been those moments. Those moments of “Nope. Ain’t gonna happen. Not walking through that door alone”. …Those moments when you realize that just about everything you know, love and appreciate is behind you and there is some big scary monster called “unknown” in front of you telling you you haven’t done your homework.

Cheerleading tryouts. My first day of Middle School. A lot of my days in middle school. My first day in high school. Going to camp Kanakuk by myself. Going to college. Going to Belgium. And now, coming back to Belgium.

This time, my dad wasn’t in the car in the parking lot waiting for me, but on a phone talking to me through skype. His words, my momma’s words, friends prayers and my fiancee’s encouragement, coaxed me through those next few hours.

And then something hit me that my Mom had told me over Christmas break. She was reading a book called “1000 gifts” by Ann Voskamp. This devotional/bio story tells the story of one woman’s journey to find joy admist every single day with Christ. She talks about how in the Bible, the thanksgiving always precedes the miracle. And even when Christ is at his most vulnerable, he thanks God. And then the miracle of  his resurrection and our salvation occur. Mom told me this whole story about giving thanks. About trying to write down “gifts” or things we are thankful for each day in order to find true joy…to be able to see better how God is ALWAYS there for us. She told me all about this book and then gave me the book and the devo for Christmas.

So as I was standing in line for the bus that was about to take me back to the airport for my second attempt at flight, I remembered her words. “Count your Blessings---even if they are just as small as the sun in the sky and the oxygen in the air…just keep counting”.

So with every ounce of energy I had and attempting to ignore the huge lump of fear in my chest, I started to thank God. I made the conscious choice to begin to thank him with everything I had.

I thanked him that the bus we were getting onto had a sign on it for an “AGAPE International Church” that the bus was used for earlier that morning.  He was here with me…showing me that his love for me was unconditional (AGAPE).

I wrote down that one simple thanks into a list on my phone titled “Thankful” and then closed it. I sat next to a nice, quiet Indian girl who looked about my age for the next 30 minutes on the way back to the airport.

As we pulled to the airport, she sighed at me and said “Thank goodness we are finally leaving”. I smiled and introduced myself. She asked where I was going and what plans I had in Brussels. I told her about my internship, my future work at the Parliament and my incredible fiancée.

I finish briefly and she smiles and says…I am interning at the Parliament next semester too! I thought my heart was going to stop. It took everything in me not to hug her. Out of all the people on that shuttle who were on the plane from the previous night, I sat next to a girl who was also interning at the European Parliament this semester.

We began to talk so quickly. It was so comforting to feel like I had a friend to help me get through the next 12 hours. She told me about her life, her schooling, her parents…just about everything. We talked about already being homesick, about our great families. All of it.

And then as we got to the gate, I pulled out my phone, and asked her for her full name so I could add her as a friend on facebook. So,  my phone opened up to my last saved note “Thankful” …and I handed it to her as she typed in her name. Ashta Sharma. Her name stayed there as number 2 on my thankful for list; I am thankful for Ashta and the timing of her presence in my life.

So, thanksgiving precedes the miracle. Even if it is just  one tiny thanks about a bus taking a girl to an airport. The miracle may seem small to you…but having a friend in that moment meant the world to me, and only God knew how to provide that.

I have continued to try and give thanks each day since then…and now it is so much of what I think about. It help brings into perspective who I am, what I am doing here but more importantly who the God I serve is and all the majestic opportunities, big and small, that he provides for me.

So, the first part of my trip was scary, hard and overwhelming, but the past three weeks have been some of the coolest of my life. I am learning so much about the human rights world and political world that I long to be a part of. Lots of interesting meetings, seminars and workshops. I wake up every single day yearning to see what the day will hold and who I will get to meet and talk to (plus almost everyone in my office is British so its fun talking with them anyway lol).

I am so glad I didn’t go home three weeks ago. I am so glad that He knows the plans He has for me.

I know that little girl who “didn’t do her homework” in kindergarten will come back again, whether it is when I move to a new country, have a baby or start a new career…but I also know that my heavenly father (and earthly father/fiancée probably too) will always be able to take my hand and walk with me back where I am supposed to go, telling me gently that it is going to be alright

Love you guys,
Another blog update coming soon!