Filtered by Tag: #change
Recently, our family camped on the shores of Lake Titicaca. I sat on the pebbled beach to enjoy the view, and as the waves gently rolled back and forth, I was struck by the sound of tumbling rocks beneath the water—a quiet rumbling beneath the placid surface. It seems a fitting metaphor for Bolivia right now.
Read MoreWith our new name, we seek to communicate all that we hope and strive for: renewed identity, goodness, health and wholeness for sexually exploited women and their children in Bolivia.
Read More“There is a bittersweetness to everything we do as parents. We love them, raise them and then, with a mix of pride and pain, we must let them go.”
Read MoreEarlier this year, to symbolically mark the passing of leadership from Founder to National Director, I gifted Doris a prayer tallit from Jerusalem…
Read MoreChange can be good, but it’s rarely simple.
As we considered an organizational update and independence from our long-standing sponsoring organization, Word Made Flesh, we took a lot of time as a team to identify our priorities. We wanted our new identity to show all that we hope and strive for, while also honoring our local context.
Though our essence remains the same, a humble posture of service and connection with others, with Jesus at the core of it all, we also wanted to emphasize alignment, full authenticity and transparency with who we are and what we do.
Read MoreI have lived in El Alto, Bolivia almost all my life. My parents worked in the copper mines, and 30 years ago moved to the city where they raised my four sisters, my brother and me. I have watched the city limits explode, reaching out further and further. I’ve seen up close how difficult it is for migrants to learn a whole new way of life, to navigate intense poverty, limited options and racism…
Read MoreRecently, we as a social enterprise experienced a similar discomfort, when we embarked on a large scale project that was slightly outside of our core offerings of handbags and small accessories.
Read MorePerhaps all too often I can get caught up in the weight of this work, the difficulty of true healing processes, and thus trying to take seriously what we do, which is certainly merited. But what if the most healing, therapeutic thing we can do is to hug our child or draw together or laugh?
Read More
