Shine A Light on Slavery

Today, February 27th, is the End It Movement’s day to Shine A Light on Slavery. Folks go around with red x’s on their hands, and share photos on Facebook, Twitter and Insta. I’ve written about human trafficking before here and here. This time, I want to tell you what organizations are working to help kids after they have been trafficked.

In high school, I ran debate cases about human trafficking. The focus was mainly on victims in India and Russia. But the problem is vast in the United States as well. The Global Slavery Index estimates there are 29 million slaves throughout the world. The State Department says up to 17,500 are trafficked into the U.S. each year. I know that my hometown of Sacramento is a hub for human trafficking, and the city of Steubenville suffers from it as well. I’ve written before about the problem. But what is being done to help survivors in the aftermath?

The majority of modern day slaves are children. They are more likely to suffer from mental health problems, substance abuse addictions, and experience violent crime. They are also more likely to commit violent crimes and return to prostitution as adults.

The suffering of these children is precisely why we need to fund shelters. Foster care and children’s homes often lack the resources to rehabilitate these boys and girls from the severe traumas they experienced. Sometimes the children will run away and lead other kids with them. Eventually, law enforcement has no choice but to charge them with prostitution and put them in juvenile hall. This is so sad because the kids did not choose prostitution. They are the victims but are often treated as the criminals.

Luckily, non-profits are opening up more and more shelters for these children. Organizations like Courage Worldwide and Beauty from Ashes will house them and treat their physical and emotional wounds. These are just a couple of the shelters that work for survivors of human trafficking. They provide education, vocational training, trauma therapy as well as art and equine therapies, legal assistance, and a safe, caring place to stay. They provide hope to children who have had very little of it before.

These survivors will be given the tools to take back their lives and live normally. They are also empowered to prosecute their traffickers. This is a very important part of the process. If we remove the trafficker from the cog of the machine, fewer children will be victimized in the future.

However, there are currently only about 150 beds for the thousands of children trafficked. What is stopping this process right now? It is the lack of funds. The constant awareness campaigns by A21, End It, Polaris Project, International Justice Mission, Love146, and countless other organizations are bringing this problem to the public’s consciousness. But the need for funding of shelters remains.

So, if you just found some money inside your couch, made a few more bucks in tips, or got a lot of money from granny for your birthday, maybe you can spare a few for kids who need it. You may know of a shelter in your area that would welcome your assistance. You won’t regret it.

Welcome To Midnight

Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
…
Two.
One.

Welcome to midnight.

What does it mean? It means you are alive. It’s a new year, and anything is possible. Change, hope, dreams, life.

To Write Love On Her Arms runs the hashtag #WelcomeToMidnight every year at New Years to commemorate the stories of those who have overcome suicide.

And this issue truly does break my heart. My eyes are welling up with tears as I write this. Several people more dear to me than words have been suicidal or attempted suicide over the past 7 years. I’ve sat up until dawn to listen and soothe some. I’ve stayed with individuals so they would not have to be alone. I’ve also cried myself to sleep when I was on the other side of the country from loved ones, hoping that someone would still be there when I awoke.

But I firmly believe that with love, everyone can be supported to find the light.

So this goes out to all those who are struggling, whether I know you or not, whether I know your struggle or not, whether we are close friends, just acquaintances, or complete strangers. If you are someone searching for that light and cannot find hope, you are not alone.

If you are stuck in darkness…

I hear you. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through, but I hear your hurt, and I know that it feels like more than you can take. What I want you to know is that your life matters. I care about you. Your friends, your family, they care about you. Even if you feel completely isolated, I swear to you that there are people who care and think that you’re worth it.

I encourage you to talk to someone. You can talk to me, if you like. You can talk to someone you know. You can talk to an anonymous person at 1-800-273-TALK. But someone wants to hear you, to listen to you, to share in your pain, to let you be known.

I encourage you to look at the stories of survivors, like those on the #WelcomeToMidnight hashtag. So many have been where you are, but their hope is rekindled. Their lives are beautiful. And I believe your life can be too.

I encourage you to stay in the present moment. Watch the ball drop. Hear the happiness of voices around you. Feel the expectancy of a chance for change. Clang some pots together. Breathe the crisp air.

And know that I will hold onto hope for you. I will walk with you. You can make it through today. If you can do that, you my dear can do this.

So, Tell Me About Crossroads…

“So, Molly, how was Crossroads?”

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adequately answer this question. This blog was an attempt. But even documenting a few anecdotes and analyzing a few sweet and bitter moments could not summarize an entire summer of incredible experiences.

Let’s face it, I couldn’t even keep up with the blog the last few weeks out of sheer exhaustion. Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Virginia and Maryland went by so quickly.

Still, I will try to tell you what it was like.

Our lovely host family from Columbus, Ohio

Each day of that last month  , I just looked forward to the end of walking. My eyes were on the prize of walking to DC. And walk we did. It’s 2,438 miles from San Francisco to Washington D.C., and by our calculations we walked over 2,500 miles over the course of our route. What an amazing adventure!

This summer, I learned to be flexible. Things could change in an instant. Every preconception I had about Crossroads flew out the door. Our van tires fell flat from nail holes twice. One day we locked our keys in the car. Daily Mass was not always available. I slept on table-beds, couches, floors, sleeping bags, and host family’s beds. We ran. Yeah. I, the girl who did not train before Crossroads, ran. One day, for fun, we ran 81 miles as a relay – about 10 miles per person! It was kind of a big deal.

I also got interviewed. And interviewed again. That was not something I was expecting!

And then our RV died. So for eight weeks, we lived off of fast food and made ourselves at home in sketchy motels (across from a prison, haunted, druggie neighbors, blood on the walls, you name it).

Yet people were constantly looking out for us. Strangers stopped to give us cool drinks and snacks. Police officers came to check on our van many times. Once, on a bitterly cold day, two officers stopped thinking I was homeless and offered me a ride.

Soon though, the running joke became that “Molly knows everybody.” At every major stop, I would run into folks I knew or had connections with (priests, radio hosts, pro-life leaders, family friends, friends of friends, a religious sister who teaches at my parish school, a religious sister who attends my college, my future RD, on and on). In the picture, I met a friend from college when I spoke at her home parish. My teammates started betting on how many people I would know at the next stop!

And through it all, there were new experiences. I tried chewing tobacco (ew), year old applesauce (fine), a salt flat (not terrible), and the Great Salt Lake (UGH!). For the first time in my life, I walked through a drive-thru, shot a gun, and drove an RV (and even floored it and went off-roading in it). Our walk leader read us bedtime stories, backed the RV into a pole, and scared me half to death by waking me up from a dead sleep by slamming on the window of the van yelling. But I got back at him by flat-tiring his shoe.

I witnessed the majesty of the great outdoors, and all the creatures that call it home: wild horses, antelope, coyotes, beavers, bison, moose, elk, marmots, and even a bear. Throughout the United States, I found solace in beautiful cathedrals, basilicas and churches where the dear One is ever present.

Oh yes. Out on the road, I found God. He is so near to us when we seek Him. Often, the only way to pass the time was through prayer. It was a constant conversation that grew sweeter and stronger the more I cultivated it. I wanted to draw closer and closer to His Heart. And is not that our end – to grow in love?

It was unforgettable. I know now that I will never fully be able to sum it up or express it. But let me tell you: it was worth it.

I, I did it all / I owned every second / That this world could give / I saw so many places / The things that I did / Yeah, with every broken bone / I swear I lived. ~I Lived, One Republic

Praying outside an abortion clinic in Indianapolis, Indiana

We met up with Bryan Kemper and the whole Stand True Missionary team. They were super chill, hosted us for 2 nights, and even walked with us for a few miles.

Our nice tour through Virginia

Crazies

All of the ladies who started in San Fran finished the walk. Proud.

We made it as a team. None of us could have done it without the rest of these amazing people.

We finally met up with Northern and Southern Walks. It’s amazing how you can bond over the mutual suffering and sacrifice of the walks.

And after our selfie war with the other walks, we took one last selfie as a big group. We made it, and that’s what matters.

Meet Me In St. Louis

St. Louis is my favorite city I’ve visited!

We visited the St. Francis De Sales Oratory, but the doors were locked. But, with a bit of boldness and a bit of fear, I walked up to the rectory door and rang the doorbell. The secretary answered and showed us through to the oratory. It was so worth it. What a beautiful house for the good God.

Saturday, we went to Mass at the Cathedral in St. Louis. It boasts stunning mosaics. After Mass, the priest exposed the Blessed Sacrament, and with a huge crowd of 200 people, we processed to the only abortion business in Missouri just a few blocks away. The 6 Planned Parenthood escorts stared with amazement at the hundreds gathered, and you could see their courage waver. Death will not win, because Christ has conquered.

Outside of the Cathedral was an awesome cake. It’s the city’s 250th birthday, so they’ve set up 250 cakes around town that people can go on a scavenger hunt for. During our 3 short days there, we saw 10! Fun times.

Afterwards, we went to the St. Louis Arch! It is quite impressive.

Later that afternoon, I got to meet my great-uncle. He’s a wonderful man. Later that day, I spoke at a Lutheran service about Crossroads! The folks were so warm and supportive. It’s so exciting to see the pro-life movement cross faiths and beliefs.

And on Sunday, we headed to the City Museum. It’s like a giant jungle gym for adults and kids, complete with crawl space mazes and tunnels, climbing cages 5 stories up, and a 10-story slide! Afterwards, we visited the Missionaries of Charity who gave us medals touched by Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

I seriously love this city.

Do Small Things with Great Love

It seems that every month, every day, every moment of Crossroads brings new challenges, new sacrifices. I went into the summer with the knowledge that I was sacrificing working for the summer. But there are so many little sacrifices that make up our day to day life out here on the road.

Hiking mountains, trekking through the heat, homesickness, real sickness, blisters, shin splints, little sleep, early mornings, late nights, little variety in food…they each hold a small suffering that He can use for souls. Lately, I’ve been noticing the monotony more. The same lengths of corn fields, the same rumble strips and white highway lines, the same fwap-fwap-fwap of my feet on the pavement. But offering this up to God is such a grace, since I would love to complain otherwise. 😀

Some days we offer up the pain of powering through to get many miles. Others, we offer up the frustration and disappointment of not getting very far. Some days, we offer up rising at ungodly hours to head to Mass, and over a two week stretch in the desert, we offered not having a daily Mass to attend.

For Central Walk, we have been without our RV for over a month. The engine needed to be replaced, and it’s still back in Utah while we’re in Illinois. Without the RV, we are essentially homeless. We don’t know where we will stay the night until that same evening – usually a motel.

Fast food is standard since we have no kitchen to cook, and between shifts, we hang out in libraries or bookstores for a temporary refuge from the heat (with books and wifi of course). We’re blessed to have food, showers, beds, and shelter. But being homeless, living out of very packed cars, and eating out so much is its own sacrifice.

And I think that that is the point. When God called us to give up our summers, it wasn’t a half-way calling. We have received so many blessings along the way, including exceptional weather. But it’s not meant to be sunshine and roses. It’s meant to hurt.

In some ways, it’s easier to make a large sacrifice than a simple one. We all want to offer everything to God, but everything is summed up in the small ways. “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” ~Blessed Mother Teresa

Our country has suffered the scourge of abortion for so long. And while many of our sufferings are very small in scope, we are blessed by them. If we are living in accord with God’s will, it’s not the size of the sacrifice that matters, but the gift our hearts make in offering them to God.

Kansas City Is Sticky

  A few facts about Kansas City:

• It’s hot. 
• SO many streets have the same name (like 7th St shows up all over the place). 
• It’s muggy. 
• There’s a Kansas side and a Missouri side…and they’re like two separate cities with the same name. 
• It’s humid. 
• Everything is about the Chiefs and the Royals. So we went to a Royal’s game, and watched them lose royally to the Tigers.
• Oh, and did I mention it’s sticky?
• It is home to the tallest water slide in the world.

But what stuck out to me the most is the awesome families and religious I met. Our host families were wonderful, and it’s always such a blessing to stay with devout Catholic families. There’s something intensely beautiful about parents who are unafraid of expressing how much they love their children.

It is also home to:

• some Little Sisters of the Poor (who just got named on NOW’s Dirty 100 list)
• The Little Brothers and Sisters of the Lamb, a mendicant order of the Dominican family who live in the poorest neighborhood in town, and beg door to door for their food (yeah, that’s hardcore!)
• And some Apostles of the Interior Life, a men’s religious order whose purpose is to provide spiritual direction to college students and train lay people in spiritual mentoring! They are so needed.

So that’s my impression of Kansas City. And I like it.

Kansas: Or How We Nearly Met The Governor

When we walked through Kansas, one day’s walking left us spending the night in Topeka. A few locals told us to check out the newly remodeled capitol.

The building was quite impressive. Tall archways led into the dome and rotunda, covered in ornate murals and gold leaf columns.

As we climbed the stairs, lo and behold, we met the Chief of Staff for the Lieutenant Governor. He was very excited to meet us, and brought us into the governor’s office. He and the rest of the governor’s staff were very hopeful that the governor would return since they said he would want to meet us. Unfortunately, he was gone for the rest of the day.

We did learn, however, that the governor is exceptionally prolife and is a faithful Catholic who attends daily Mass. Kansas is blessed to have him.

So, that’s how we nearly met Sam Brownback, the Kansas governor.

Happy Independence Day from Nebraska!

(PC Angela Marino)

We had an amazing weekend in Lincoln celebrating independence!

(PC Angela Marino)

On the 4th, we headed to the Omaha Zoo, the top zoo in the nation. They had an aquarium with puffins, huge fish, sharks, and best of all, penguins! This one very happy penguin kept swimming into the glass without realizing it. Bump, bump, bump, and he just kept swimming forward with an adorable smile. So cute!

(PC Angela Marino)

(PC Angela Marino)

The zoo also had spindly giraffes, rhinos which loved to roll in the mud, all the big cats you can imagine, bears including a very hot polar bear who looked out of his element, and an entire butterfly pavilion! Unique to this zoo was the habitats – a desert, swamp, and rainforest with many animals living in the same environment. It was quite an adventure.

(PC Clarissa James)

Afterwards, we headed back to our wonderful hosts…the School Sisters of Christ the King. They barbequed kabobs and corn, fed us all-you-can-eat watermelon, and topped it off with s’mores. We had such an enjoyable evening talking and hanging out with these lovely brides of Christ.

(PC Clarissa James)

(PC Angela Marino)

Once it was dark, the sisters set up a humongous collection of fireworks. Being from California, I’d never set off any that shoot up into the air. Even the sparklers they had are illegal in my home state! We joined a few of the younger sisters in setting off the fireworks…they had a blast! Since they live in the country, we could see a score of firework displays from Lincoln, lining up along the horizon line.

Mother played her guitar as we sang patriotic and folk songs. The sister’s sweet voices filled the air, and although we constantly messed up the lyrics, it was quite lovely. The evening ended with compline, night prayer. The fireworks sounded on through the night, stretching out over fields full of fireflies.

Corn, Cows, And…Is That Salad?

Oh, Nebraska. You have taught me so much. For one thing, you’re not just flat corn fields. I’ve seen cattle ranches (that smell to high heaven), green meadows over small hills, and clouds that stretch out across the sky like pink frescos of the Sistine Chapel. Lovely orange sunsets sink before my eyes behind silhouetted trees.

(PC Lauren Mach)

(PC Lauren Mach)

Nebraska is also very wild. I’ve shot my first gun, seen a tractor rodeo and a beard growing contest, and jumped in a bin of corn. I’ve tried Runza (I wasn’t too impressed), rhubarb pie (again, not that impressive), Nebraskan beef (okay that was good), an old fashioned chocolate ice cream soda (yum!), and discovered that salad in Nebraska usually involves fruit, marshmallows, and Cool Whip!

(PC Angela Marino)

The people here are so friendly and generous. We’ve been taken out to breakfast nearly every day this week and last! More people have honked, waved, and given us thumbs up than anywhere else.One lady in North Platte gave us three huge pans of cookies saying, “You’re walking for Jesus? Then you get ALL the cookies.” 

Once after daily Mass, a couple parishioners took us out for breakfast. But when they went up to pay, we found out a an anonymous stranger had paid for our ticket! Last night, we headed to Applebees to celebrate an awesome day. A lady came over to our table and said, “Did I hear correctly that you’re walking across the country? And you all are pro-life? That’s so wonderful!” When we asked for the check later, the waitress told us this sweet lady had paid for us.

Keep it up, Nebraska. Your parishes are actively pro-life, your people are wonderful, and we are very blessed.

Making an Impact

When I first started walking, even when I applied for Crossroads, I had no clue what kind of impact we would have.

When I’ve walked precincts or done phone banking for pro-life political campaigns, lobbied or set up educational events, I’ve always had a vision for their effect. But with Crossroads, I only could envision the walking. Consequently, I expected to be a billboard and have lots of conversations with pro-choice folks.

Nope. I’ve only spoken with a couple pro-choice people. The heckling has been quite minimal. A few one finger salutes, a few nasty comments, a few yells.

Rather, our presence draws confused stares, puzzled looks, and wide eyes. At Wal-Mart, the grocery store, small shops, gas stations, burger joints and RV parks, people gape as we explain, “Oh yeah we’re walking across the country.” In one antique shop, the clerk’s eyes grew big as she asked, “Why on earth are you doing that?”

But then, this turns to admiration. For us, it’s not that amazing. We’re just walking. We believe in this mission with our whole hearts, but to walk does not take that much effort. But for those people, it brings hope.

I can’t tell you how many people see our shirts and say, “Pro-life? Me too! I admire what you guys are doing!” After Masses, so many people come up to us and say, “Thank you so much for what you’re doing! It’s so inspiring!”

They are inspired…by our feet moving. That’s it. That’s all we’re doing: moving one foot after the other. But that brings them hope. To us, it’s a small sacrifice. But to these wonderful people, it means the pro-life movement exists! They aren’t alone. If we’re willing to walk, and we’re from all over the country, there must be many more willing to stand up for the unborn, for the elderly, for human dignity.

The most wonderful part is when parishioners tell me, “I pray outside the abortion clinic,” or “I pray with 40 Days for Life every year.” Some even have said, “Our parish got an abortion clinic to close after we prayed there.” Their faithfulness to the cause is astounding.

We are a witness. But not in the way I expected. Crossroads reaches those in the trenches and those on the other side, but most importantly, we reach the apathetic majority, the people who are pro-life in name only. These are the folks we need to build a Culture of Life.