the celebration

there is so much to write. so much that i feel overwhelmed when i think of writing. so much that i feel so inadaquate to get it all down on paper (or computer) so i can remember it and come back to it. so here goes.....
When i would think about india over the past two years it would be the worst of the worst....i close my eyes in worship and would see the young girls lining the streets or holding the women at the train station while she was dying or my friends being raped in the bed besides where i was sitting.
and yes...those memories are real and horrible and the reality here but coming back to Kolkata has reminded me of how much good there is also.
yesterday we had to walk through the red-light area to get to the new sari bari unit. (need to interject here....we dreamed for a safe place in the gatch for years and years. we even tried to start sari bari in the gatch while i was here but it all fell through. God timing right???). We only walked through a small portion of the area but it was enough. we walked by our friend Beauty who i knew for my entire five years here. we walked by the young girls who i thought were 15 at the time but as i greeted them again this time they still looked 15. it was the same young girls that i knew from last time! the same young girls who are under slave labor! the same girls who are forced to work the line from 8:00am to who knows how long at night. the same young girls who are forced to wear mini skirts and bad makeup and are taught to grab men when they walk by them. the ones whose childhoods have been stolen by men's lust. these are the girls whose faces haunt me. who i bring to God and cry out "why?" and "How?" and what are you doing for them?
so after seeing them i am walking down the red-light district with tears streaming down my cheeks. those questions start to rise in my mind again...the anger towards God. the questions and will never be answered.
as we come around the corner from seeing the girls kyle says, "look up kristin. that is sari bari". and i go up some stairs.....not slime covered, dark stairs that lead me to a friends room where she is oppressed and her dignity is stolen but stairs that lead to hope and new life and new beginings and grace and love and safety.
i walk into sari bari in the gatch and can again breath. the place is open and beautiful and the ladies are laughing and i see girls who i knew in the red light district sewing!!! i see ladies who i knew from kalighat now in leadership and giving freedom to the ladies in the gatch. i see and feel hope and i feel all the anger and hate and questions melt off of me and all i can do it sit there and cry and be amazed.
i walked from hell to a place of hope in the matter of minutes. Hope exist in the gatch. HOPE EXIST. it was an impossible dream. impossible. but through dreams, work, prayer, community, grace, power, mercy.....it exist. and it was so damm awesome. it is my answer to most of my question. Thank you God.

there are other stories but this will be a start.
i love that when i cried at sari bari a. gave me a huge hug. i love that God is allowing me to celebrate. i love how normal everything feels here. i love that i got to have tok doi and bananas for breakfast this morning. i love that i got to see my friend jon again. i love beth and sarah so muchly.