The last few days I have been alone in a house that is not my own. I have been calling this time a solitude retreat. The so called retreat has looked a whole lot more like my normal life full of doing rather than any type of solitude. I realize I am really hard on myself and expect huge things from myself, but it's not going how I imagined it. I imagined hours on end just sitting and soaking, hours reading, hours writing. Somewhere along the way it all started to feel like a performance, and a one-out-of-four-star performance at that, a show about how I can't cut myself off from the world. Now I'm realizing maybe these days alone have been more about breaking myself out of this performance based mindset than any solitude. There have been a few moments, though, that I have been able to unplug (literally and figuratively) and just be quite with God. And for those moments, this struggle for solitude has been worth it. During one such moment I wrote the following...

I have always loved the World Race. Since minute one I just loved it. I loved the people, the concept, the vision. I loved it all. I never considered my relationship with them any deeper or further than the 11 months I signed up for though.

Fast forward 12+ months and I find myself home from the World Race and in Georgia helping train 3 upcoming squads to be sent out this fall (see picture above). From the minute I arrived at camp I knew I was supposed to spend the next season of my life working for the World Race.

So why did I not commit on the spot?

If I boil it down, all that was holding me back was money and that didn't seem like a good enough reason to me. [maybe it goes even deeper to trust?]

Money, money, money- Oh how I hate you. See, everyone who works for Adventures In Missions or AIM (the parent organization of the WR) is support raised. The salary they receive is from people like you who give so that they are able to give; give of their time, their skills, their lives. So not only are they some of the most committed, hardworking, busy people I've ever met- they also have to find people who are willing to commit to them monetarily in order to live.

See, if the World Race was a salaried position I would already be there, and I'm sure many of my squad-mates would be too. But it's not. You have to really want it. You have to commit. Your heart must be in it.

And my heart is in it.

Well my heart is in it when I don't get in the way, that is.

When I think about it I start to dwell on the fact that I just got home from a year of support raising and that I am yet to send thank you's from that. I worry that my network isn't big enough to support something like this. I worry that I won't have enough support in my account to pay rent in a few weeks. I worry that people will resent me for not getting a 'real job' and continually asking for money. I worry that maybe this is too soon, or I am ill equipped, or that I should apply to just one more other job...and then I stop myself.

This is what I do. I worry. I dwell. I wear anxiety like a leaden winter coat.

And I know God doesn't want all of this on his daughter.

He wants me to go back to that day in Georgia when I knew I was being called there, before I told anyone, before I logically mapped it out- while I lay on a bench watching sunshine pour through the swaying trees. The peace I felt. A contentment that consumed. Joy I couldn't hide on my face. Life I couldn't hide in my steps. Excitement I couldn't hide in my voice.

I am trying to walk into this next season with this in remembrance, fresh in my mind, with this attitude in my spirit.

I know the money will come in. I know it will. My heavenly Father won't leave me out to dry-- something I see exemplified daily by my real dad.

With trust in my heart I ask each of you reading this to please consider supporting me in this ministry. Maybe you are unable to but have friends, family, or a church that is eager to support...by all means, please pass this along to them, have them contact me, or I can contact them. I am looking for people to partner with me, to partner with the World Race through me and better yet to partner with the Lord through me.

In reality it's so much bigger than me. The vision isn't mine, I'm just a set of hands behind it. And just as with that- may you be behind me as I help carry this vision forward.

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So what does all this mean realistically...

I have signed on to work for AIM (and the World Race more specifically). My commitment as of now is a 6 month “Apprenticeship” with the intention of sticking around for much longer, God willing. I will be moving to Gainesville, GA in a week and starting work the following Monday, September 6^th. My support goal each month is $1,500 bringing the six month total to $10,000.  This money will go towards any and everything involved in living: rent, food, health insurance, gas etc.  For now my exact position is rather organic, meaning I will be floating around from department to department as needed. So one day I may be in logistics helping set up a teams time in Kenya and the next day I may be conducting interviews for future World Racers. I am excited at the opportunity to work in and live in the already established “community” that is happening down in Georgia.

More details to come.

Thanks for reading and investing and loving me.

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If supporting me does interest you please email me at hollandcox@gmail.com or go to the "Support me" link in the upper left corner and follow the instructions.

As I hope you've all figured out by now I am back in America.  I have been here 50 days, if my calculations are correct.  It seems both like an eternity and a second all at the same time.  In my time at home I've already: traveled to another country, attended a wedding of two of my World Race squad mates, spent two weeks helping train 150 of the next World Racers, joined a kickball team, had my tire explode while driving on the interstate (I don't recommend this), applied for some jobs, and tried to be still and relax.  It has been filled with intense times of doing and equally intense times of nothingness.  I am thankful for both.

(Austin and Monica Anglea's wedding)

Of course the subject of "what's next" has come up repeatedly during this time at home.  People always ask the question awkwardly and timidly (is my emotional frailty that obvious???) as if I may burst into tears at the mere thought of the future.  If I'm honest the question doesn't scare me or upset me but when I have answered with a shrug of the shoulders and a "who knows" I am not being evasive.  I am just as anxious to figure it all out as you are for the answer.

On the World Race we talked a lot about our dreams and how to make them a reality.  We would focus on identifying our talents and uncovering our dreams and then how those can collide with needs of the world.  I was always pumped up after such discussions but was also left wondering just where my heart, my skills, and my experience could meet the world in its needs.  And after 11 months I never really could come up with a definitive answer.

I would search my brain and the internet for what I would consider my "dream job."  What did I want to do?  Forget all the logistics, I couldn't even figure out in all the world where I would take myself if every door were to be opened.  It's a strange place to find yourself.

(sweet Kedanya- Pader, N. Uganda)

And then one day, I'm not sure how, I stumbled upon it.  I found my dream job.  It is with a nonprofit that aims to move my generation from apathy to activism.  They advocate for the children of Northern Uganda.  They tell the children's stories and share the reality of their lives with the rest of the world.  They have programs to educate and support these children.  They are helping restructure Northern Uganda by raising up a generation from within who can be that change.  It is unbelievable what they do.  And they had an opening for a communications officer.  And I was fully qualified (WHAT!? When does that happen??).  I would live in Uganda.  I would have housing provided and would get a salary (which is HUGE after a year of fundraising).  I would get to be the voice of the children by writing their stories and taking pictures of them. There would be an element of graphic design.  I would also be a sort of ambassador for anyone who came to visit, taking care of them and all logistics.  All my jobs and skills and passions not to mention my experiences this past year...everything seemed, for lack of a better word, perfect.    

And yet somewhere between sending off my newly created resume and getting a call to set up my first interview I started to doubt.  Is this job so perfect? How will I make deep friendships in Uganda?  Will there be a community I can connect with there?  Is my heart in it?

So to speed this story up a little bit...I didn't get the job and I couldn't be more relieved.  God knew I couldn't make the decision to not go if I had been offered the job.  I knew I couldn't make that decision.  And now I don't have to.

This happened for a reason.  I do finally have some specific dreams and tangible ways to define those dreams.  I realized that a huge part of my heart is still in Uganda and will forever be, but how that plays into the future I am yet to know.  I know I have a desire and gift for writing and telling stories and I'm so excited to see how this can be used.  I know I have a huge desire to help raise up and empower people to be change agents themselves, in their own lives, in their communities, in the world.  These things have been inside me all along but now I am able to identify them and communicate them.  So to put it simply, I've never felt more excited about rejection in my whole life.

And so the question still stands, "what's next?"...and well, we will see.

Night in and night out we overload a 10 passenger van and make the 25 minute drive over the hill to Bangla Road.  In our 'long' skirts or jeans, flip flops, and faded shirts we traverse the overcrowded streets and alleys and dodge presumptuous grabs from beckoning girls to find 'our girls'. 

While we've only been going to Bangla road for the last 6 nights we all have girls that we have made relationships with.  These are the girls whose names we cry out to God with, who we pray will be sitting alone waiting for us when we make it to their bar, not off with a customer, who we spend our nights visiting, who are our friends.  We fight to see these girls, we risk rejection and embarrassment and the fact that they generally think we are lesbians, all to ask them to go to dinner with us or to go shopping or get coffee.  Many tears have been shed on our part from failed appointments and broken engagements but we continue to go see our girls, night in and night out.

Despite the late nights and exhaustion, we continue.  Someone on my team commented this morning that even when they were partying and living a crazy lifestyle back home they never went to the bars 5 nights a week.  They would go for 'one good night' and sometimes two during a particularly exciting week; But us, we go 5 nights a week.  We spend hours under the neon nights, nearly screaming over the pulsing music just to ask our friends how their son was when they called that day or if they are still tired like yesterday. 

Last night you could see the exhaustion on all of our faces.  I saw more of our small groups wandering Bangla road than I did sitting in the bars.  We are worn out.  At our nightly after midnight debrief, an exhausted silence seemed to cover the room.  No one really spoke of the usual triumphs and failures, they didn't' have the energy; no one had to say they were tired either, it was understood.  We just sat for a while and processed internally, prayed, and crawled into our beds.  No one woke up this morning to exercise like usual or get a jump on the day.  Until after 9:00 our bunk room remained still.

Rejection is tiring.  Bars are tiring. Loving is tiring. Being tired is tiring.  But today we got to taste the fruit of that which is to come and it made it all worth it.

Two days a week SHE specifically opens its doors for lunch and a time of fun and fellowship for any girl working in the bars.  It is our job to invite our friends from the bars and get their phone numbers at night.  The morning of, one of the Thai women who works for SHE painstakingly calls each girl and re-invites them to come that day and tells them where and when they will be picked up.  All we can do is sit and wait to hear how the morning phone conversations go.

As word made it back to us, anxiety filled each of our hearts.  "Could one of my girls actually walk through those doors today..." we all wonder to ourselves.  Someone says one of Leslie's girls that broke a dinner date last night was coming, one of Jodi's, one of Marissa's, 2 that came the other day were coming back that Anna knows, a few were unreachable, Michelle's was still with a customer when they called, and a few phone numbers didn't work...some of us rejoiced while some were severely disappointed. 

We all prepared for their arrival regardless.

A casual atmosphere, and a home cooked Thai meal met the girls as they entered SHE and almost immediately I overheard one of my teammate's whisper that two of the girls had already committed to leave their jobs at the bar and move into SHE. 

WHAT!?  It actually happens? All of work isn't in vain?

As the news continued to spread it was almost like a wave of rest and refreshment swept over our team.  So much joy filled my heart.  The thought that two girls never have to return to work captivated me.

As time went on we found out more.

Jaeb will be moving in today.  Just like that, she is done with the bar scene.  She now is a resident of SHE where she will join the other girls who have made the same decision as her.  She will be taught a trade and receive a salary. When she decides it's time for her to move on SHE will help her find a job using her new trade.   Her life of freedom starts now.

Pla will move in on Tuesday.  She is one of the girls that came for lunch earlier in the week as well as today.  She too will leave her life at the bar for a life of security and love.  We cannot wait until her arrival on Tuesday.

Rung came to SHE earlier in the week with Pla.  Since then she hasn't been back at work, which caused my teammates that knew her a lot of worry.  We heard today that she has since moved back to her home in another part of Thailand and is living with her family.  We are overjoyed that she too has left the bar and pray that it is a permanent decision. 

So today in Phuket, Thailand we are rejoicing.  Pray for these 3 girls as they get an opportunity to start a new life.  And pray that we have the energy to continue to bring hope to these bars.

My new team, which we have named 'put on love' from the verse Colossians 3:14 will be working in Phuket, Thailand with a ministry called SHE. It stands for Self Help and Empowerment (http://www.shethailand.org/). It works to assist at risk children and women, many of whom are trapped in the commercial sex trade. We will be going into the bars at night and forming friendships with the girls and if they are open to it, introducing them to SHE where they can learn a new trade and find counseling and support. For the girls who have already gotten out of the sex trade, we will be helping them with their businesses, such as baking or making jewelry. We will also be leading Bible studies and serving in any way we can be used. 

I cannot express how excited I am to get started on ministry this month, but I am under no illusion that it won't be tiring, dark, and heartbreaking.

So we are asking you to pray for us. Pray for the unity of our new team.  Pray for the women we will meet at the bars. Pray for the women who have already left the bars and are under the care of SHE. Pray for the men who fuel the commercial sex trade. Pray for our men while they are off doing 'man-istry.' Pray for our protection in the bars. Pray for our protection and the country of Thailand, as it has political unrest. Pray for our last month, that we finish strong and not grow weary.

They are hungry to hear from us, their brothers and sisters. They want to know what God has done in our lives. They want to know what God is telling them through us.   

Why is it not like this in America? Even if you show up to your home church after a long absence you won't be greeted like we are, much less a church you are visiting. You won't be asked to preach. You most likely won't even be acknowledged. You most definitely won't be handed the entire service and told to 'be free' and lead it as you choose.

 I'm not saying this as a criticism, more as an observation. I don't understand the disconnect.   

Why is the American church so different than churches across the world? Anyone got an answer?

Something doesn't seem to add up.

This time we were expecting the same drill as last night, to see the street children begging before we crossed the street to the mall. Brandy and I prepared as we came up on the spot where we saw them last night; but there were no children. We commented that they must be in a different part of town tonight and continued to cross the street and approach the mall.

In the moment it took all the constraint I had to not empty my wallet into his outstretched hand. I want him to know that I love him even though I don't know him. I want him to know that I care about him and the baby he carries around. I want to help him out of the situation he is in but the american mindset of throwing a little money around won't change his situation.

See more than likely this child and the baby he carries are part of a trafficking ring. The circumstances are different but somehow these kids get sold or traded to the care of someone much like a pimp. They send the kids out and any money they get funnels right back into the hands of whoever bought them. So the money people give these precious children never actually is theirs and benefits them in no way.  

But still in the back of your head you think, maybe, just maybe this time they would be able to get something to eat or something to make the situation better. Is it worth the try? Or do you hold off to not fund the child slavery ring anymore?

A similar battle takes place when I think about the time we will spend in Thailand next month. We will be working in the red light district, with prostitutes. We don't know what specific ministry it will be through but all are based on the idea of making relationships with the girls and introducing them to a different way to provide for their family outside of this lifestyle, a place of refuge and a new hope. So when I am talking to one of the precious girls who has been forced to live this lifestyle and some man comes up to buy her for an hour, will I sit idly and allow that to happen or will I pool all the money I have to spend that hour talking with her instead? To show her that she is worth a genuine relationship, not one based on abuse, sex, or money. I know she won't get to keep the money, that it will go to her pimp and essentially fund the purchase or misuse of other girls, but is it worth it to spend that time with the girl, to show her she's worth it? 

So what do you do when the battle in your mind has no right answer? Where is the justice?

street children sleeping on a bench

One minute later we are standing in a grocery store that in every way contrasted what we just saw. Bright lights, sparkling floors, food of every kind and brand we have dreamed of for the last 9 months. Our minds can't even wrap themselves around the excess that this place contains, so we start with a lap around the store to soak it all in. We pass bratty kids upset at the idea of only getting one of their favorite ice cream bars and full carts of food. It was overwhelming. And the thought of those little children outside made it all the worse.

How can such disparity exist so close to each other? It doesn't make sense.

So we came home and climbed into our sweaty beds and I couldn't help but think of the millions of people living lives just like these kids. I was reminded of something Seth Barnes, the founder of Adventures in Missions said one time, "What keeps you up at night?" I've been thinking on that for months. What gets your blood flowing? What literally keeps you up at night, running through your head? What ideas can you not shake? Most nights I hate to say, the thoughts that keep me up are selfish. But every now and again I get past thoughts of myself and on to something bigger.

So, what keeps me up at night?

Right now the thought of orphans and street children with no where to go and no one love them. It's even more sickening to think that some of these innocent children are bought and traded and used at their new owner's discretion. Abandoned, lonely, tired, searching...it's almost too much to handle when I let my mind go.

So now you know where I am.  Where are you? What keeps you up?  And if you figure that out, whats stopping you from joining 'the cause,' whatever that may be?

But most of the time, I am mentally not there yet. My mind can't make the jump...for example...

See the other day we went to one of the beautiful parks here is Ho Chi Minh City where we were told we would be helping with a children's ministry. The kids show up smiling and giddy and we start the program. Until someone tells me they are from a shelter, I am clueless. They are clean and healthy and happy and playful. They are so well behaved the 3 of us there to help don't really have much to do. 

Until I see two of the smallest ones, a little less behaved, a little separated from the group. They are bouncing around constantly, always within an arms distance of each other, usually holding hands.

They are instantly my favorites, my kids.

So I pull out the ol' crowd pleaser, my camera, and start to entertain them that way. I take pictures of them, I show them, we laugh...it's one of my favorite games. 

They rarely glanced back at the other kids to see what games they should be playing. They are content with each other.

It doesn't take long for them to warm up to me. Before I know it they were grabbing at my hands wanting to hold them and leaning on me when they race back from one of their excursions. They would talk to me in Vietnamese and I would talk back in English. We understood each other perfectly. 

When we gave all the kids lunch as part of the program my kids carried theirs around as they continued to play. They couldn't be bothered by eating...or were they saving the meal for later? Do they have parents? Is this their only meal all day?

It was obvious these kids weren't from the shelter. Who really knows where they actually came from? But I do know when it came time to go, the kids from the shelter orderly lined up and left, while my two little munchkins bolted through their line and took off for the playground in the distance. So whether they were to be joined by their loving parents momentarily or off to venture to find a place to sleep for the night I will never know.

I will never see these kids again and I have to be ok with that. But what will happen to them? What will they grow up to be? I want nothing more than to flash-forward 20 years to see what they become. Will they know that they are loved by their Heavenly father? Will they tell others about the good news? Who will they be? 

This has happened time and time again. We are in people's lives just long enough to get attached and then we must leave. But I guess that's just the way life goes sometimes. To not allow ourselves into these situations would be the easy way out. But aren't we here to share the love?