Life hurts...

This past week something very tragic happened. A man went inside a strip club and started shooting. He killed two people and wounded two others, including a dancer. Patrons eventually wrestled the gunman to the floor. As I read the news articles about it, I was reminded of the pain related to a similar shooting that happened to my family on April 19, 2000. A gunman walked into a crowded home owners association meeting in Sun City and opened gun fire. His intention was to kill as many people as possible. He never intended to walk out alive. That became apparent with the suicide note that was in his shirt pocket. And just like the shooting at the strip club, he was wrestled to the floor and overtaken by others. He killed two, and wounded six others in the seconds that he shot freely in the air. My parents were both at the meeting that day. My mom lost her life from one of his bullets. They were 4 months away from their 50 wedding anniversary. After reading about what had happened at these two strip clubs recently, I was once again reminded of that day. I understand the emotions that the gals that work at the club must be going through right now. I also know the deep sense of sadness and grief that comes from losing a loved one in such a senseless and cruel manner.

Whenever a person experiences this kind of trauma, they begin to realize how much of our lives are focused on trivial things. That happened to me. I discovered that all that mattered boiled down to a few basic questions. Who do I love? Who will miss me? What have I done in my life? Am I ready for what’s next if my life is over suddenly? Ever since that day, I’ve tried to live with those questions more at the forefront.

As I reflected on my life during the difficult days that followed our shooting, I concluded three things:

First, I know that there is good in the world. Though overwhelmed with sorrow just now, you will learn to laugh again, to play again, to love again. You will learn to walk into a crowded room without fear and without trying to figure out where all the exits are, just in case you need to run for your life. Yes, the world can be good.

Secondly, I know too that the world is fallen. You understand that truth after you walk through the aftermath of a senseless crime. The shootings show what humanity on its own can produce.

Thirdly, as a Christ follower, I trust that the world will be redeemed. This is not the world God wants or is satisfied with. God has promised a time when evil will be defeated, when events like these shootings will cease. Even more, God has promised that even the scars we accumulate on this fallen planet will be redeemed. It’s because He loves us more than we could ever imagine, and He wants a relationship with us.

Someone once said, that “nothing irredeemable has happened or can happen to us on our way to our destiny in God’s full world.” Did you get that? Nothing is irredeemable. I would like to promise you an end to your pain and grief, a guarantee that you will never again hurt as you hurt now. I can’t make that promise. I can, however, stand behind the promise made in Romans 8, that “all things can work together for our good.” Terrible things will happen to us and around us, yet we have access to a “peace that passes understanding” that can calm both our hearts and minds in the midst of tragedy. God’s love for us is true and real, and I pray that you do not let your grief or fear obscure that fact.

If you are reading this, it’s because you took the time to check out who we are. Maybe you would love to talk to someone about what you’re feeling after this tragedy. We would love to talk with you over coffee sometime. We are friends that care about you. We are friends that are there for you. We are friends that would love to listen to where your heart is at…and friends who would love to pray with you. We get what you’re going through….

Joyce, Brianne, Heidi, Morgan, Cathy

Merry Christmas!!

We went out on the 10th and delivered the gift baskets above loaded with all kinds of tasty Christmas treats!  We also gave out copies of Harmony Dust's book Scars and Stilettos at some of the clubs.  It was a great night loaded with hugs, smiles, and plenty of Christmas cheer.  Looking forward to next month!

Dear Friend

 Dear friend,

Did you know that you are loved and valued; that you are a child of God, and that He created you for a purpose?

This life can be hard sometimes.  Work can be difficult, bad things happen to good people, and the people we love will let us down.  We search for answers and sometimes feel hopeless. 

Know that God has a plan for you, friend.  Know that even in your darkest hour that you are not alone; that God loves you, and that your life matters.

ASHA exists for the purpose of supporting you in your life journey, and to encourage you in any way that would be helpful for you.  Let us know if there is anything we can do to help. 

 Love,

Joyce, Cathy, Heidi, Morgan and Brianne

Harmony

 Have you ever heard of Harmony Dust?  She is a beautifully and awe inspiring person and writer.  She knows first hand what it is like to take off your clothes for unappreciative men, and to feel completely empty and lost inside.  Read her story below of how she transformed her world.
 
I met him when I was 11. Somewhere along the way, he became the center of my world. My life belonged to him. I had given it to him.
 
At first, I felt safe when I was with him. As though he could protect me from some unseen harm. He gave me the disapproving look of a father when I lost my virginity at 14. I can picture him in my living room the day after it happened, head hung low as if something precious had slipped away. I felt cared for.

He was always there: through the rapes, heartbreaks, and my parent’s divorce. Steady and constant.
I never intended to begin a relationship with him, I never saw him in that way. Then one night, I wagered my body in a game of cards. I lost. We had sex.

I thought it was casual and meaningless, but on that night, everything changed. The tables turned. Something took form deep inside of me: a suction, a knot, a tie. He began to consume my thoughts in much the same way that the boy I lost my virginity to had. I started wondering where he was and when he was coming home. The familiar fear of loss took over me and I pursued him wildly.

The fear of losing him had its grip on me. I thought that making him financially dependent on me was the only way I could make him stay. I couldn’t bear to be abandoned again.

By the age of 15, I was giving him all of what little money I had. By 17, I was stealing money from the cash register at work to fully support him.

No matter how much I gave him, it was never enough. I was never enough and I felt undeserving of love. He constantly validated my feelings of worthlessness with emotional and physical abuse.
Throughout most of the time we were together he was unemployed. I silently encouraged his lack of willingness to work by taking it all on myself. At 19 years old, I was over $35,000 in debt. I was losing control. Young, naïve, and hopeless, I began stripping. My intention was to work for a couple of months in order to pay off my bills. Then I could return to a “normal” life. I found myself trapped in the lifestyle.

Wads of cash filled my hands, but nothing seemed to satisfy the void in my heart. In essence, my boyfriend became my pimp. Every night, I came home and gave him all of my money. I had convinced myself that I didn’t deserve it anyway and I figured that the more dependent on me he was, the less likely he would be to leave me. Whenever I did try to put aside money so that I could quit dancing, “something” always came up and I would give him all of my savings. During one “emergency”, the nature of which he never told me, I handed him more than $10,000 in cash.

The idea of having a normal life seemed further and further away. At first, I led a double life; I was a quiet, conservative college student by day, and someone else’s fantasy by night. Gradually, I began to lose sight of who I was, and became lost in make-up, stilettos, and the glare of stage lights. I felt fragmented and compartmentalized. The fear of rejection and judgment kept me isolated from the outside world, until all of the people I had contact with were other strippers, costumers, and my abusive boyfriend. The isolation made it easier for him to control me. He dictated my every move.
To no avail, I did everything I could to please him. He constantly slept with other girls and eventually ended up getting one of them pregnant. One day I went into our bedroom closet and found another woman’s clothing. That is how I found out that he moved his pregnant girlfriend into our home.
I would lay awake at night on the couch, straining to hear what went on behind the closed door of what used to be our bedroom. The muffled sounds of laughter broke my heart, but the silence hurt even more as I envisioned her lying in his arms. There seemed to be no limit to what I would tolerate in order to keep him from leaving me.

The emptiness I felt inside seemed infinate and my self-image continued to decline. Over the course of the next 3 years, being a stripper became my identity. My already tainted view of men seemed permanently damaged. I developed the notion that all men were inherently perverted and sick. I began to use stripping as a way to take back control of my sexuality. I finally felt like I had the upper hand. I learned to exploit for myself, the very thing that men had already exploited…my body.
My view of the world was tarnished. I couldn’t go anywhere without thinking that people saw me in a sexual way. I felt reduced to an object and in “real life”, I tried to hide behind baggy clothes and glasses. All of my efforts and energy were put into trying to make my abusive, dysfunctional relationship work. I thought that my life and existence was hopeless and that the relationship was the only salvageable thing left. In my search for one good and pure thing, I clung onto my boyfriend with all of my strength and sacrificed my dignity to keep him in my life. All of my adoration, love and worship were focused on a person who was too selfish to ever really love me.

In retrospect, I can see that God’s heart was deeply pained by my brokenness. He wanted nothing more that to extend his hand to me and show me my beauty and worth—to help me see the value I never saw in myself.

Like a gentleman, He pursued me with his infinite love until he captured my heart. I finally met a Lover who would never leave me—the only One who could satisfy my needs. He took the hollow and empty pit inside me that had been carved out by a lifetime of disappointment and despair, and He filled it with hope, love, and purpose.

The journey since has not always been easy and I have made mistakes along the way, but I have discovered that the pain of staying the same is far greater than the pain of change. My frantic search for a man’s love to complete me is over. I am not perfect, but I am whole and I am free.

Precious woman, I promise you…there is hope. You are not alone. Your One True Love is calling your name.

Love,
Harmony

P.S. You can read more about Harmony Dust and her ministry HERE.