On a journey...

Restoration in the making. As we pulled up outside the building, I was struck by its size and the pile of sand outside it. We scuffled quickly to the front door in an attempt to flee the shower of rain that had accompanied us. After we managed to unlock the padlock keeping the front door securely closed, our team of 16 piled into the gymnasium room. "Potential" is the best word to describe the first impression of the space, once used for sports, now with random things stored in piles around the floor, waiting for someone to determine their next destination. We were in Valdemārpils at the property where a restoration/ detox centre for women is going to be set up. At the moment there is no detox facility for women in the entire country. The centre is more than just a distant dream, but although the plans are in motion, it's still only in the very beginnings. Walking around the building and seeing the partially and 'yet to be built' rooms and are

The Freedom61 café was open again this evening for the women to come by for some soup and a cup cake. I spent the evening praying for what was happening downstairs. At the end of the evening, I helped do the dishes and as I went into the café one of the women was getting ready to leave. “It’s been a long time since I enjoyed myself this much!”, I overheard her commenting through translation. She had a big smile on her face. They had spent the evening playing games and chatting. Sometimes showing someone they are worth our time and doing something uncomplicated together can mean more than we realize. And so as I end this day, I am grateful for the reminder that the simple can impact so deeply, and that I mustn’t underestimate the power of loving someone with time.

It’s been such a full day. You know those days where you get to the end and feel so packed with impressions and thoughts. Today was such a day. This morning I took a walk to a little tea house on the edge of the park. As I sat drinking my wee pot of Earl Grey, while sat on the bench lined with cushions on the terrace, I was watching these little birds on a patch of grass with flower interspersed nearby. The birds were so tiny and energetic and darted in and out of the space, and the sun rays made the white flowers shine. And I remembered Jesus’ words to not worry. That if God cares so much about flowers and birds, how much more for us, the ones He loves so dearly. Back at the apartment we gathered together with the Freedom61 team to pray as they were going to visit “Tina”, a woman who left prostitution very recently. As we prayed, my heart was filled with hope for her. Hope that she will make it. That her choice to leave would remain and that her needs wouldn’t lead her back

As I listened to the “guide” give the pre-recorded tourist speech about the Blackheads building in my cheap, white headphones hanging from the ceiling, a little old lady caught my attention. She was very unassuming, and for the passing glance could have been just anyone. However, with the myriad of tourists wandering around the square with their cameras and groups and custom “tourist attire” (read: backpack, bum-bag and sunburn), I was surprised at how this lady was different. She was sitting at the base of the statue (which the “guide” informed us was a replica from 2000, the original being in some church building somewhere). At first I wondered what was going on. She just sat there with her head tilted slightly forward. I think she was dozing as a bit later she readjusted herself and kind of leaned into the statute. Even from a distance I could tell her clothes were unkempt and I figured she was probably not a tourist. The deep wrinkles in her face and her worn hands made me think t

You can learn so much about a people from their history. And history can explain so much about a people and who they are and where they come from. Today we visited the Occupation Museum which basically told the history of Latvia and their journey of freedom (or journey through occupations). From being occupied by Soviet Union, Nazi Germany, and then Soviet Union again, it is amazing to see where they are at as a nation today. But the journey has definitely been a very hard and painful one, which I am sure still affects not only the nation, but also the people. We had a lovely young man give us a guided tour (instead of just reading the displays), and it really helped bring it to life. He was a well of knowledge, but at the same time it was easy to tell that it was all very personal to him, which it is to any Latvian person I would imagine. The story of the “Singing Revolution” or “Baltic Way” as it is called, touched me the most. On the 23 rd of August, 1989, 2 million pe

As we got in the car to head to the Eindhoven airport I felt a sense of excitement. Excitement to be going to the beautiful city of Riga, and excitement of what the next 10 days would be. We arrived safely at the small airport of Eindhoven, having survived the erratic windscreen wipers of the van which seemed to think there was rain to be wiped off the screen in the midst blazing sunshine. After a couple of hours on the plane (with the most uncomfortable airplane seats in my time of flying) we landed in Riga. Having been a tad concerned by the weather report as we took off (“the temperature in Riga is 10 degrees Celsius and rain”), I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was warm sunshine and a temperature of mid 20s. Beautiful! As I stepped off the plane I had such a feeling of freedom. Probably partially because I was out of the crammed full plane, but it was more than that. It was that sense of freedom where you almost feel like you’ve held your breath and can finally