From left, Kevin Slowey, Rockies pitcher; Dave Racaniello, the Mets’ bullpen catcher; and R. A. Dickey, Mets pitcher, at Uhuru Peak, the highest point on Mount Kilimanjaro.

It was 10 p.m. when Timo, one of the porters on our climb of Mount Kilimanjaro, tapped on my zipped tent flap to make sure I was awake. Little did he know that I had been awake for at least an hour because of the gale-force glacial winds that were pounding the exterior of the tent, a noise that assured me that something unpleasant awaited. The wind, coupled with my fears and excitement about what lay ahead, allowed for about three hours of partly uninterrupted sleep.

We had been briefed at our 5 o’clock dinner that night that we were leaving for our summit attempt at 10:30 p.m. sharp. This was for two reasons. First, as we ascend the mountain, the rocky skree that litters the steep trail to the peak will be frozen and less likely to give way under our boots. Second, leaving at that time would allow us to reach the summit as the sun was peeking up over the eastern glacial ridge. However, I believe that there was a third reason, one the guide intentionally never discussed. Psychologically, if we were able to see the sheer steepness and distance of the trek, it would have been defeating.

Our departure time came, and we were dressed in our best cold weather gear. At the time we took our first steps from base camp, the temperature was in the single digits and the wind was sharp. We had our headlamps on and could see far above us the dim light of a group of other climbers, evidence that we were not the first ones in what could be a long queue up the mountainside.

I put my earphones in and turned on my fully charged iPod to distract me from the elements. I had made a summit mix before the trip and cranked it up as loud as it would go. Four songs in, the iPod froze even though I had it in one of the pockets on an inner layer. Now, it was just me and the mountain.

Five hours into the climb, aside from having extremely cold hands, we were all feeling pretty good. My only concern was placing my feet in the same place as the guide in front of me. Slow and methodically we gained ground up the slope. Another hour passed and it seemed as if the climbing got significantly more arduous. We had passed a half-dozen people who had to stop and turn back because of fatigue or altitude sickness. The extreme gradient of the slope partnered with the duration of the ascension to form a tag team that was kicking my butt.

I thought of my family back home playing games, and what the kids were doing in school. I began to think of the money we were raising to help the Bombay Teen Challenge. I visualized pitching to the all the teams in the N.L. East, batter by batter. I thought of anything I could to distract me from the misery I was in. Finally, about seven hours into the climb at around 18,500 feet, I had to ask our guide to stop. I sat on a rock to the side of the trail feeling nauseated and lightheaded.

Joshua, our guide, rushed over to me and filled a small cup with hot tea from a thermos he pulled out of his pack and placed in front of my face. The lightheadedness graduated to dizziness as I reached for the cup, missing it by six inches. Again I reached for it, only to miss it again. I felt my innards convulse. Joshua took my hand and placed it on the cup.

Read the rest of RA Dickey’s article for Bats and The New York Times here. 

The last two days of hiking have carried us over steep barren ridges and into deep gorges filled with streams of glacial runoff. However, in terms of difficulty, the two days couldn’t have been more different.

The hike from Barranco camp to Karanga camp required us to go up the face of a mountain ridge called the Barranco Wall.

This particular ascent represented the most dangerous challenge of our trip due to the width of the ledge and the sheer steepness of the climb.

There is a pass along the wall called the kissing rock. It got its name because the narrow ledge forces you to hug a rock that is jutting out, requiring you to keep your face next to it the whole way as if kissing it, in order to safely pass. Below is nothing but jagged rock at the base of the ridge.

Although none of us were without fear and apprehension, we were all able to traverse it.

After the kissing rock, we were encouraged to hear from our guide that nothing from that point on would rival the Barranco Wall. Needless to say, that came as a great relief. However, when we pressed our guide, he did share a story about a porter who had fallen backwards and was seriously injured.

The next morning, we got an early start on our way to Barafu camp, the base camp for our summit attempt. Although this hike would take us from 13,000 feet to 15,000 feet, it was our easiest yet in terms of terrain. It took us up a gradual slope for about two hours until we leveled off and ascended again. We walked through fields of jagged shale and parched mountain desert. It was like what I imagine a post-apocalyptic picture would resemble, like a scene out of “Mad Max.”

When we got to Barafu camp, we were treated to vistas that defied our small scope of the world and its wonders. Before us, thousands of feet below, stretched cumulus cloud banks that looked like a never-ending field of the softest cotton one can imagine.

To our right sat Mount Meru, suspended above the clouds like a giant rocky temple. To our left were the sharp peaks of Mount Mawenzi, another of the Kilimanjaro volcanoes.

Being exposed to such majesty is humbling and begs me to contemplate how finite I really am.

I think, at the very least, each member of our party is motivated to gratitude.

Speaking of humility, when we first arrived at Barafu, we were witness to two individuals being rescued from their summit attempt due to severe symptoms of altitude sickness. This is a good reminder that although we are so close and can literally see the peak, we are still 4,000 feet away from our goal. We are confident but know that our own summit attempt will be no lay-up.

Tonight at 10:30, we will be awakened to begin our final trek to Uhuru peak, the very top of Kilimanjaro. We are all nervously excited and hopeful that our preparations have been sufficient.

My next entry will hopefully tell the story of a fantastic summit experience and the adversities we overcame to achieve it.

Read RA Dickey’s complete article for Bats and The New York Times here. 

An American baseball player scaling an African mountain for an Indian charity might seem an odd way to draw attention to human trafficking.

But that’s just what R.A. Dickey is doing. The Mets pitcher is climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, which peaks at more than 19,000 feet above sea level (and documenting it on Bats, The New York Times’ Baseball blog) in part to bring awareness and money to stop sexual slavery thousands of miles away in the gritty lanes of Kamathipura – Mumbai’s largest red light district.

About 100,000 to 200,000 women and girls are working in brothels in Mumbai, according to the latest government estimates, which are a decade old. Activists say the number has since reduced to 75,000 to 100,000 in the city.

“As I am the father of two daughters, ages 9 and 8, the thought of my own being subjected to the atrocities that happen every day in the brothels and on the streets of Kamathipura is heartbreaking,” Mr. Dickey wrote for the New York Times baseball blog.

The money will be used to build a fully equipped clinic in Kamathipura that would offer health screenings, antiretroviral drugs, and counseling to sex workers.

Since Mr. Dickey stepped into the picture in May of 2010, Bombay Teen Challenge has met half its fund-raising goal, said the organization’s founder, K. K. Devaraj.

Read Sruthi Gottipati’s complete New York Times article on Dickey and BTC here. 

It was Alexander Graham Bell who once said, “Before anything else, preparation is the key to success.” Presently, I am in the final hours of my own preparation to ascend the largest free-standing mountain that this Earth has to offer, Mount Kilimanjaro.

The time for second-guessing is over. The research has been done, the miles have been hiked, the lungs have been taxed and the equipment has been gathered. In five days, I will travel via Detroit to Amsterdam, finally arriving at Kilimanjaro’s airport after a journey of 18 hours 25 minutes, and 8,674 miles. Needless to say, if you have a hard time with planes, you might want to scoot this one down your list of things to do a bit.

As for success, that will, I hope, come in the form of a sunrise summit at 19,300 feet on Jan. 14, 2012. I try sometimes to wrap my mind around what it will be like to see the sun come up from the highest point in Africa, how small I will feel looking out over such an incredibly glorious expanse with the sky about to catch fire.

Although the excitement is growing as the departure date draws near, the anxiety is there as well. It’s as if I’m 6 years old all over again and in line for my first “big boy” roller coaster, the one that has the steep drop and a couple of gigantic loops. I know it’s going to be a fun experience, but as the waves of people board and the screams erupt, it brings me one step closer to the unknown, a setting where fear meets anticipation. It is an exhilarating place to be, and I am grateful for the opportunity to do something I have longed to do for some time.

More important, we have raised $50,000 and are halfway to our fund-raising goal for Bombay Teen Challenge, an outreach organization dedicated to putting an end to human trafficking in Mumbai, India. With $100,000, Bombay Teen Challenge will be able to purchase a health clinic right in the heart of the red-light district. This will allow hundreds of young women who have been trafficked into the brothels to become introduced to Bombay Teen Challenge and, ultimately, have a chance at freedom.

You can read the rest of R.A. Dickey’s article for the New York Times here.

The Mets sent him a letter, warning him that if he were injured on his climb — which is also scheduled to include Colorado Rockies pitcher Kevin Slowey — it could void his $4.25 million contract for 2012.

“If we thought it was a good idea, we wouldn’t have sent the letter,” Mets general manager Sandy Alderson told the Wall Street Journal, which reported the letter on Tuesday. “Beyond that, have we tried to dissuade him from going? It seems to me that the letter is enough of an effort to dissuade him, and he intends to go on nonetheless.”

Dickey, 37, and Slowey, 27, have had plans in the work for some time. Slowey was traded from the Twins to the Rockies on Dec. 6. The two were teammates on the Twins in 2009.

“R.A. and I have gotten to be good friends,” Slowey told the Minneapolis Star-Tribune back in April. “This is something that if you get the chance to go do, you’d be remiss not to consider it. And it’s definitely for a great cause.”

The players, along with Mets bullpen catcher Dave Racaniello, will attempt to climb the world’s largest free-standing mountain as part of the Bombay Teen Challenge, a charity which supports victims of sex trafficking in Mumbai, India.

Read more from the USA Today article with R.A. Dickey, Kevin Slowey, a pitcher for the Colorado Rockies and Dave Racaniello, the bullpen catcher for the Mets.

It seems like another lifetime – a universe away – to remember my day of departure from Hong Kong, almost exactly a year ago, as I set out on my bicycle to cross the Eurasian landmass. The day when I bid farewell to my brother and his family who live on Victoria Peak in Hong Kong to make the journey to my parents’ home in Norfolk, UK. Some 17,000 km to the West, beyond the sunset.

As I write I’ve covered 16,000 of these – all on my humble bicycle.

What lay in between has been one of the defining experiences of my life. It has to be. After all, how often does one have the opportunity to embark on one’s own epic adventure?

Long-fallen Chinese empires, wandering Buddhist monks, the grisly demise of swash-buckling British adventurers, the cold sneer of mighty conquerors of Central Asia, refined poets of the Caucasus, Russian monuments to the brutal attrition of global war, the delicate wines of Crimean bon-vivants, and testaments to the quiet diligence of long-dead Georgian saints. On to the levity of Mozart and twirling Viennese waltzes, old pagan sagas, chocolate and cow-bells, bankers in perfectly fitted suits, Bavarian beer-glasses rising above a sea of red faces, dark Alpine peaks wreathed in the first swirling mists of winter. All these images I have witnessed. And a multitude more besides.

Now as I pass the familiar green hills and cornfields of lowland Switzerland, at last back in Europe, I have to keep reminding myself of the route by which I arrived here. Right now it all seems too familiar and the end too close.

Yet I can remember setting out over the rolling rice fields of southern China, toiling up and down over the spines of several mountain ranges in Central China to reach my winter goal of Xi’an, the ancient capital of imperial China. The dusty terraces and sweltering road of the great Silk Route from Xi’an that leads west to the outer extremities of civilized China and the empty wilderness of the Gobi and Taklamakan deserts beyond. Briefly emerging from the desert, I passed by the busy metropolis of modern Urumqi on to the bustling and colourful Central Asian trading emporium of Kashgar, nestling at the feet of the meeting point of the mighty mountain ranges of the Tian Shan, the Karakoram and the Hindu Kush.

Then leaving China and stepping into the very different world of the ex-Soviet Central Asian states – the expansive green uplands and pastures of Kyrgyzstan, the golden wheat fields of southern Kazakhstan and the crazy schizophrenia of the Uzbek capital of Tashkent – its Russian and ancient Central Asian architectural influences still vying for supremacy.

In Tashkent, I joined two younger Americans on the road and together we suffered under the blazing summer heat, leap-frogging from city to city, saturated in the drama and history of the Orient – Samarqand, the city of Tamerlane, the lofty kupals of Bukhara and Khiva the ancient slave trading emporium, and then onto the demoralising emptiness of western Uzbekistan and western Kazakhstan. Battered by the constant shuddering of 400km of broken roads, heavily addicted to cold soft drinks and with bottoms so saddle-sore we couldn’t sit down for a couple days, we emerged at the Caspian Sea coast and collapsed onto a cargo ferry that took us to the Caucasus and the bizarre city of Baku – a place dripping in wealth from the “black gold” that once seeped up through the ground along the shoreline there.

Across the Caucasus into the wonderful country of Georgia, a breath of fresh-air with abundant hospitality, endless assaults of delicious food and a church on every hilltop. Standing at the very outpost of old Christendom, Georgia has been squashed from every direction, yet enduring all this pressure like a shining diamond, you never saw a people live life so lightly, nor follow their faith so solemnly.

And so to the bronzing holiday-makers of Russia along the Black Sea coast, the glorious beauty of the Crimea, and the effortlessly cool city of Odessa, where the women are nowhere more beautiful, nor the men more assured that there is no better place to be. Across the forgotten republic of Moldova, struggling to make its wine exports lift the whole country to a new level of prosperity, to the carefree fun of western Ukraine – a melting pot of Russians, Poles, Romanians, Slovaks, Hungarians and Ukrainians with a fiercely independent spirit.

And then to the very frontier of the European Union. Slovakia passing by in a slightly subdued flash before the clean-cut and precise confidence of Austria. Vienna – a magical, beautiful, friendly, light-hearted, miraculous, musical and highly expensive city, where you cannot help walking around humming Mozart as you literally breathe in culture.

In Vienna I was joined by my two brothers and a sister-in-law and two old friends for probably the best week of the whole journey. As I struggled against raging headwinds in the deserts of western China, I had encouraged myself by saying it was all ok because one day I would reach the beautiful land of Austria – its sparkling lakes, green hills, and steel-blue peaks. And it didn’t let me down. It is breath-taking.

Someone was smiling on us that week. The sun shone in gin clear skies every day, as I shared a lifetime of wonderful moments with my friends and family in a few short days.

And so here I am. In Switzerland, with roughly 1,000km to run to my home in England.

When I get home I am going to have to wean myself off eating enough food to fuel a small army which my 130km a day consumption rate seems to require. This may be easier said than done. And I will greatly enjoy sleeping in the same bed for more than two nights, and having some other clothes to wear (provided my younger brother hasn’t already stolen them all).

But apart from all this… Literally – I thank God for bringing me this far – thanks for the myriad of people I met, the incredible natural beauty I’ve seen, the challenges I’ve overcome and the lessons I’ve learnt. What a gift!

And so, after all that…….now what??!

I guess I still have 1,000km to figure that out. J

You can check out more stories and photos from my journey on my website and on a previous blog on the Wellspring site.

Also please consider making a donation to Wellspring International in support of my efforts. I have chosen to support the Bombay Teen Challenge project with any funds raised. You can make your donation here. Please be sure to select “Theo Brun Scholarship – BTC” in the drop down menu. THANKS!

Photo Courtesy of R.A. Dickey

R.A. Dickey has had to wear an elevation training mask during his preparation for climbing Mount Kilimanjaro.

“Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa. Its western summit is called the Masai ‘Ngaje Ngai,’ the House of God. Close to the western summit there is a dried and frozen carcass of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that altitude.” ― Ernest Hemingway

It was seventh grade when I first read those words from Hemingway’s “The Snows of Kilimanjaro.” I’m not sure why they stuck with me so vividly through the next 24 years. Perhaps it was the spiritual component that struck me, or the frozen leopard as a possible symbol of dauntless perseverance. Either way, I indelibly connected with it.

So here I am, a 37-year old New York Met and Hemingway aficionado, a month away from attempting to ascend Uhuru Peak, the highest summit on Kibo’s crater rim on Mount Kilimanjaro. What started as a personal pilgrimage has transformed into a joint effort with an outreach called Bombay Teen Challenge. Since 1990, Bombay Teen Challenge has worked to rescue and rehabilitate destitute and desperate people living on the streets and in the red light district of Mumbai.

These people include women trapped in prostitution through sex trafficking, their at-risk daughters and other girls vulnerable to the sex industry; street children who are in danger of being abused and exploited; and H.I.V.-positive orphans who have been abandoned or orphaned. As I am the father of two daughters, ages 9 and 8, the thought of my own being subjected to the atrocities that happen every day in the brothels and on the streets of Kamathipura is heartbreaking. My hope is that the climb up Kilimanjaro will help bring awareness to a cause that is in need of attention and support.

Read more from the New York Times article with R.A. Dickey, Kevin Slowey, a pitcher for the Colorado Rockies and Dave Racaniello, the bullpen catcher for the Mets.

This was to be a journey of over 17,000 km, that took a year and a week to complete.

As far as the east is from the west,
so far hath He removed our transgressions from us…

I’ve heard it, read it, believed it.
But just how far is that?
I decided to find out.”

Theodore Brun is a former lawyer who left his job in Hong Kong last year to cycle across Eurasia back to his home in England. He graduated from the RZIM OCCA program in 2009 and is making this journey to raise support for Wellspring International’s Bombay Teen Challenge Children’s Shelter. Wellspring International had the opportunity to interview Theo about why he left his job as a lawyer to ride nearly halfway around the world.

Wellspring International: You embarked on a cross country bike trip for charity, where did you get the idea to do a cross country bike trip?

Theo Brun: I was living and working in Hong Kong when the idea first came to me to do an overland trip back to my home in the UK when my contract came to an end – crossing the entire Eurasian landmass by foot. I even bought a pair of hiking boots (which proved too small). But soon after I started taking the idea more seriously I met a guy in Hong Kong who had cycled from London to Hong Kong. He was full of great stories about his journey and described meeting a German in Montenegro who was walking home from Nepal. It had taken him two and a half years so far. “Hmmm,” I thought. “It seems my scribbled calculation on the back of a postcard that it would take me about 18 months was obviously way off.”

In the end, looking at maps of the vast tracts of land in Central Asia I would have to cross convinced me to do the journey by bike, not by foot. At the time, I thought that was a cop out!

WI: You were a successful attorney for a large Biotech firm, why do this now?

TB: I had for a long time struggled to find my niche in the law. I think I had a good hard look at my life in Hong Kong and what I wanted to achieve. What were my goals? What did I want to see when I look back on my life in years to come? Nothing about what I was then doing resonated with me. I got tired of meeting people in Hong Kong who were passionate about what they do. I know I am a passionate person, but my legal career just left me absolutely cold. Instead I want to write, and given my personality it probably makes sense to take some kind of teaching seriously too. But overlaying all of this, I have an adventurous spirit. This has had some destructive outlets in the past, but I felt this trip was a great way to transition into a new direction in life. One of the thoughts in my head was a desire to “become the story”. To really live the kind of adventure that my imagination loves to feed on. In fact this journey has acted as a great catalyst for writing and growing as a person. After feeling all boxed up in my legal career, that is exactly what I needed.

WI: You chose Wellspring and specifically Bombay Teen Challenge as one of two projects you wanted to benefit, how did you hear about Wellspring and why did you choose that project?

TB: I chose Wellspring because I have for some years now had a connection with RZIM (Ravi Zacharias International Ministries). I have benefitted a lot from Ravi’s teachings, and in 2008 I was lucky enough to participate in the RZIM one year diploma in Apologetics and Evangelism at Oxford University in the UK. I was aware of RZIM’s humanitarian arm, Wellspring International, and wanted to take the opportunity to support an organization that I had some personal connection with and which I believe marries a convincing and powerful witness to faith in Christ with the practical expression and application of His love and support for those in need.

I wanted to support the Bombay Teen Challenge because it is addressing an area of need of which I have some (very small) personal experience. In 2009 I spent some time at a children’s welfare centre in Pondicherry in India. A different city and different organization, but applying the same principal of helping severely underprivileged children at risk from exploitation, hunger and disease. I saw how much difference even a small amount of attention and care makes to these kids, and how a relatively small amount of money by Western standards can go a long way in India. For this reason, I was happy to support the Bombay Teen Project in particular.

WI: How did you determine where to travel? Did you plan every part of your trip beforehand?

TB: There were a few considerations. Things like visas, terrain, seasonal weather, languages, politics. In the end, I wanted to pass through countries where the Russian language is spoken (or at least understood) as much as possible, because I can speak it to a reasonable level. But I also had to factor in a long stopover during the cold winter months when it is impossible to cycle across the deserts in Western China in freezing conditions. For this reason, I chose the city of Xi’an in central China as a winter home for four months. I got a job teaching English there and learnt a bit more Mandarin, as well as using the time to arrange some of the visas I needed to carry on through Central Asia.

As for the whole route, all the way from Hong Kong to the UK, I did have a plan, but I was ready to adapt it. In fact, the actual journey has proved amazingly close to my original plan. I’m quite surprised by this….and of course very grateful. It’s meant that most days I’ve been riding in sunshine!

WI: What has been the biggest surprise on the journey?

TB: How incredibly beautiful the land of China is. One imagines travelling to China to appreciate the culture, its history or marvel at its big cities. Rarely would people travel to China to see its natural beauty. But I’ve found that the landscape in between China’s vast cities, which is of course best seen from a bicycle since you naturally meet people along the way, is continually changing, often into unexpected and quite breathtaking forms of beauty.

WI: How has this trip enhanced or changed your perspective?

TB: A lot has happened emotionally on this trip. I have swung from ecstatic bursts of joy to a general contentment and peace, through boredom and loneliness to the very depths of dark anger and bitterness in my soul. It has been quite amazing to experience this range of existence, and I think a lot has come out that needed finally to be expressed (often when raging at the wind in the middle of a desert!). But I think over time this has resolved into something very positive.

For me, the key is to see every little detail of life as a gift. A man’s needs become very simple on a journey like this. A bottle of water, some warm food. A hot shower. A friendly conversation. These might be obvious gifts for which a person can be grateful. But this journey has made me appreciate the difficult things as gifts too. Often I have very quickly been able to look back at a setback and see how it led to something positive or helpful. I guess as a believer in Christ even the biggest potential disaster of death somewhere on the road is not without hope. So all the setbacks – big or small – can be seen in a different light, in the light of this ultimate hope. A difficult person, physical exhaustion, a cold shoulder, loneliness or sickness. Can you even be grateful for these things? Grateful for how they change you or challenge you? How you can overcome them or how they may strengthen your character?

It is very difficult to be both grateful and miserable. Just try it. I think this is one of the secrets behind the boundless joy of all those old saints like St Francis of Assisi. When I see everything as a gift, I find myself continually describing everything as beautiful. I mean how often have you described an ice cold bottle of coke as a thing of great beauty and wonder?! I am sure this perspective on seeing beauty more easily arises from a willful choice to be grateful. And out of such visions of beauty joy naturally flows. Who wouldn’t want that?

After 17,000km cycling across Asia and Europe, I find that the world is not such a big place after all. People are generous, interested, humourous, hospitable, open. Of course, there is much in the world and the countries I have passed through that is broken, and wretched. Political and religious manipulation, economic and environmental exploitation and their effects are all visible. But the world still looks to me like a beautiful image that has been shattered. I have faith in its original beauty, just as my eyes are open to its current brokenness. If we focus on what it is beautiful about the world and each other, we may be able to help heal what is broken.

Finally, this trip has altered my perspective about who God is. My perspective has been expanded. For me, God has revealed Himself in so many ways as the God of Providence. As this year on the road draws to a close, I feel that I believe much more that God really is involved in every aspect of my life – and in the life of the world – and that He is working for my good. That He really is in control, despite the freedom He has given us. It is a mystery, I can’t explain it, but it has increased my faith in God and what He can do.

WI: What are you hoping that you and others who have followed your adventure will gain from this experience?

TB: Well, for me I was pretty clear what I wanted – to put the past behind me, embrace an epic adventure, meet God on the road, use these experiences to become a better writer, create an opportunity to improve my language skills and grow into a more authentic person.

For those who have followed me, I hoped to entertain them, interest them, inspire them, paint bright pictures of the world in which they live, tell stories, encourage fellow believers and if possible ignite some sparks of faith in those who do not yet believe.

In a word, I wanted to present myself as a man of faith embarking on this adventure, believing that God might reveal Himself through that.

WI: What advice or encouragement do you have for anyone else who wants to make a difference in their own way?

TB: All of life is an adventure story. If God is the author then we are His characters. When you open yourself to living your life with Him, you step into a realm of existence beyond your imagination. It doesn’t have to be a crazy bike ride across the world (although that is fun!). It could be as straight forward as raising a family, or keeping your business running, or finishing your studies, or caring for your patients. But there is a story that is only yours to live – that only you can live.

When you see someone living life like that, there is something quietly glorious about it. Whatever difference you want to make, or are inspired to bring about, I am sure there is a good reason it has been put on your heart. Not only for your own good but for the good of the world around you.

The Psalmist said, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.”

That is why I think it is important to understand the dreams of your heart, and have the courage to reach out for them.

“The glory of God is man fully alive.”

Click here to sponsor Theodore’s Eurasia Bikeride; select Bombay Teen Challenge Children’s Shelter and your donation will contribute towards providing housing, education, and comprehensive care to 65 children previously living on the streets and in brothels of the Red Light District of Mumbai.

Stay tuned for more on Theodore’s ride for Wellspring International!

I have started writing this blog post several times over the last few weeks. Each time I begin, the faces, smells, sounds, come racing back, as vivid and overwhelming as it was in the moment I first experienced them. I have scrolled through photos we took countless times since arriving home. My eyes fill with tears as each beautiful face appears on the screen. Weeks later, I am finally beginning to process through all we saw and experienced. I hope to somehow articulate my experience with you and pray that through my rough writing, you will get a glimpse into the lives of the beautiful, hurting people of Cambodia.

Nearly six weeks ago, I boarded a flight to Seoul, Korea, the first leg of a long travel day. This was my first time in Cambodia. I had read about the Vietnam War and the decades of civil war that followed. I had learned of the Khmer Rouge that had brutally murdered 1/3 of the country’s population. I had studied alarming statistics of poverty, lack of education and human trafficking that are now commonplace in Cambodia. A recent UNICEF survey estimates that there are 55,000 young women and girls trapped in sexual slavery in Cambodia, and that 35% of these women are under the age of 16. I had done as much research as I could before we departed, but would the information translate into the scenarios we were about to witness?

It was 1am when we arrived in Cambodia. With an 11 hour time difference, I felt the effects of jet lag as I walked to meet Lisa, our contact in Phnom Pehn, a few hours later. We jumped in a rickshaw, our transportation for the week. Our driver made his way through the streets littered with trash and Lisa spoke quickly, sharing her experiences as well as information about the country. Cambodians have worked to rebuild what was destroyed by the Khmer Rouge. Yet poverty and lack of education have created a fertile ground for human trafficking and Cambodia has become not only a source of trafficking, but a destination as well, with often parents or relatives as the traffickers. Lisa shared that western men traveling alone in Cambodia were nearly always there to participate in sex trade, that there were no other business opportunities that would bring them to the region. I began to take notice of western men accompanying a young girl in a restaurant, on the street, and even seated on a plane, flying her away from her home. We walked around a known trafficking village where brothels were interspersed between homes. Traffickers sat outside each building, waiting for the next customer. I watched small children play next to them in the streets, their innocence broken by the presence of evil. Lisa explained that the small brothel community was preparing for a change. At dusk, the universal time when all over the world children are called to the dinner table leaving unfinished homework or video games to be revisited later with a satisfied belly, these children as young as three years old emerge from the haven of home fully made up and attired by their parents to service tourists and locals, sometimes seeing 20-30 clients each night. We started home before dark. The Police force officially punches out the timeclock at 9pm each night, leaving the crime-infested streets to their own devices.  If you don’t drive in a covered vehicle like a car, stay inside. Gunfire can be heard close by after dark. I was overwhelmed as we drove back to the hotel that night, well before 9.

The next day we traveled to New Song Centre, a maximum security home for 60 girls rescued from brothels. As we stepped inside, the guard locked the doors behind us, and I was surprised by the family environment before us. We had the opportunity to meet with the fully trained staff members, counselors, and teachers who work tirelessly to provide a caring home. The girls begin intensive psychological trauma counseling after arrival. Using creative methods like art therapy, they begin to process through the situations from which they’ve just come. I looked through the little storybooks, where the little girls draw the things that were done to them, things too horrific for them to articulate. Through this artwork, the counselor can better understand how they have suffered and how to begin to help. Because of our friends and partners who  have given sacrificially, Wellspring has provided this vital weekly therapy for 34 girls since 2009.

We met with staff members and received reports on each of the 34 girls we are supporting. I heard stories of both pain and victory. I laughed with them and held their hands as we cried together. I met the little girls who have been through traumatic and challenging experiences and encouraged them to continue moving forward. One little girl hugged me as we left saying simply “thank you for giving me hope.”

New Song Centre walks with and supports the young girls from the moment they are rescued. They provide a caring, structured environment where each girl can dream, maybe for the first time. I was proud to represent Wellspring and our giving partners. I look forward to continuing this journey with New Song Centre together.

Learn more about human trafficking in Cambodia or New Song Centre.

The Vietnam War seeped into Cambodia resulting in what would become decades of civil war. In 1975, the Khmer Rouge took power and inflicted enormous atrocities upon the people of Cambodia. The Khmer Rouge erased everything they deemed western, religion, education, and art, and mass killings and genocide resulted in the wiping out an entire 1/3 of the country’s population. In 1993, the country finally came to peace with the re-establishment of its monarchy. But it was not until 2010 that the first member of the Khmer Rouge regime was tried for war crimes.

Today, the wounds are etched deep into the psychological and emotional soul of the country. They have worked to rebuild economically through tourism and the exports of garments, rubber, rice, fish, and timber. Urban communities have been rebuilt in cities once emptied by the Khmer Rouge regime. The result of this has been an imbalance between the urban and rural areas. Poverty, socio-economic inequity, and lack of education have created a fertile ground for human trafficking and Cambodia has become not only a source of trafficking, but a destination as well, with often parents or relatives as the traffickers.

We begin travel today, Cambodia our destination. Will we feel the wounds of the country when we step from the plane and onto a soil infused by so many lives buried there in the earth? But we travel with purpose.

More than two years ago Naomi Zacharias identified New Song Centre, a home for 60 girls rescued from brothels, and after careful evaluation Wellspring began to partner with New Song in their tireless work to bring rehabilitation and restoration to these little girls. Following rescue and upon arriving at the home, the girls begin intensive psychological trauma counseling. And through this process they are also taught to be childish, perhaps for the first time. They learn to do what we as children did, tinker with toys, play games, and go to school. Because of our friends and partners, Wellspring has provided this imperative weekly counseling for 34 girls since 2009.

And this is what brings us to Cambodia. Representing Wellspring and all of our partners and friends who have given sacrificially, we will be visiting New Song Centre. We will meet any new staff since our last visit, we will listen to stories of both trauma and triumph, we will ask questions, and will receive reports on how each of the 34 girls we are supporting are faring. We will hear of challenges and victories, we will encourage them and assure them of our support for them and for each little girl. And finally, we will return with an annual evaluation, a process that we do for each and every project Wellspring supports so that we can be stewards of the highest standard with the treasures you have entrusted to us.

Click for more information about Wellspring’s project with New Song Centre.