ATOM
MOTA
ATOM MAGAZINE
A LOOK BACK AT MARRIAGE OF THE ARTS
ISSUE 4 2013
• ABOUT SEEDS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 02
HANDMADE ART.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
04
EASTERN EUROPE.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 06 • WE KNOW JOY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 08 • INNOCENT SOULS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 • ROMA CAMPS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
GRAPHIC DESIGN. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
14
INDIA & NEPAL.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 • VALUABLE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 • THE CLIMB . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
MUSIC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
22
• WASTELAND PINES.. . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 • A BAND IN A VAN. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
WRITING. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
28
• 'DREAMERS DREAM'.. . . . . . . . . . . . 29 • DON'T HATE YOUR BODY. . . . . . . . 29
THAILAND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 • JOY IN RED LIGHT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 • DOOR OF HOPE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
DANCE.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHINA & HONG KONG. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
36 40
• VISA WUNDER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 • LOVER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 • ART, ASIE, GALLERIE et JeSUS. . . 46
VIDEO. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
48
• GOD PROVIDES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 • ABBA, FATHER. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
FINE ART. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
54
• A JOURNEY OF AWAKENING. . . . . . 56 • HE WEPT TOO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
CENTRAL ASIA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 • JOURNAL EXCERPT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 • Hollow Spaces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 • HOPE DIES LAST. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
PHOTOGRAPHY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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BEHIND THE MAGAZINE: ATOM
ATOM Magazine is produced by the students and staff of YWAM Herrnhut as part of the Marriage of the Arts DTS.
Youth With A Mission (YWAM) is an international volunteer organization bringing Christians of all backgrounds together for the purpose of knowing God and making Him known. YWAM Herrnhut was established in 2004 as a training and equipping base, with Discipleship Training Schools (DTS) at the heart of its vision. The Marriage of the Arts (MOTA) DTS is a movement; 96 students representing 17 nations, using 8 different art forms to share the love of Christ with people in the most unreached parts of the world. The MOTA perpetuates a belief that art has the ability to speak to people in a profound way, WWthat there is power behind every camera click, brush stroke and song lyric. The MOTA is a catalyst for empowerment and vision; a desire to see artists understand and step into their potential as communicators of a powerful message of hope and salvation.
CREATIVE DIRECTION: Gretchen Gunter Matthew McCaigue
ABOUT SEEDS BY JESSIE TYREE
A lifetime is made of years, of months, of days, of moments. This moment is a seed. What significance is there in a seed? Small and easily crushed, it is a fleeting thought, a passing notion, blowing away in the softest of winds. But what if something deep inside the infinitesimal cracks and crevices of that tiny, insignificant seed held the power to grow into a sprout, pushing its arms through the dirt and pressing its face to the sunlight? What if that sprout had the will to grow sturdy, to send roots down to the earth and branches up to the sky, winding itself into a mighty tree? And what if that tree stretched its arms wide enough to hold a treehouse cradled in its branches? Who would look at the tree and remember the seed from which it came? This tiny seed contains all possibilities. This moment is a seed, and deep inside its crevices, there are branches waiting to arise and grow and push their arms out of the soil and, heavy laden with leaves, bask in the warm sun. But this moment is only ever a seed. Who will look at the seed and remember the tree?
PHOTO EDITING: Chad Strobach COPY EDITING: Amy Fraser Joshua Davison Erik Nicolajsen Jenna Wisler DESIGN TEAM: Kayla Jenkins Annika Felder Victoria Toledo Nardin Tadros Keila Olmo Jessie Tyree Madeline Williams COVER PHOTO: Sophia Jung
cede /sëd/
To give over, surrender or relinquish control.
REOCCURING SEED PROGRESSION BY ASHLEY GOODMAN
CEDE
STORY BY MELISSA RICHARDSON / JOSHUA DAVISON
WORK BY JOANNE VOORHOEVE
HANDMADE ART
Fold, crease, repeat. A simple paper crane forms. Do it again – one more. Now, do it a hundred more times. Before long, a heap of paper cranes has been formed, and a crazy idea is taking shape. Several meticulous hours later, three boxes overflow, and it is finally decided that our team has folded enough birds; phase one is complete. That night, we make our way, boxes in-hand, to a small church where an all-night prayer meeting is about to begin. Amongst the people gathered here, many denominations, cultures and contrasting economic situations are represented. Tonight, all have joined together for the purpose of lifting up the city of Thessaloniki, Greece – their city. We put a task before them: take a bird, and pray with our team. Pray for the city, and ask God for a word of encouragement, a Scripture, a prophetic picture, an impression – anything uplifting, and then write it on the wings of the bird. We will take the birds and hang them in a place in the city, creating a simple, yet powerful installation. Together, we will proclaim truth over the city. When the night draws to a close and we take the birds home, we carry with us hundreds of prayers in multiple languages. The next day, an appropriately grimy and unsuspecting place for our birds must be found. We soon find the perfect location – a major bus stop close to where we stay. We venture out shortly after midnight. This is supposed to be a covert operation, but the bus stop is still buzzing with people. The plan goes ahead anyway, and we go to work hanging the birds from the bus stop shelter, the signs, a fire hydrant, the surrounding trees – everywhere we find room. People start taking an interest. Conversations quickly start about what we are doing and who we are. Some curious onlookers begin to read the messages from the bird wings. We go home and collapse into bed, exhausted but satisfied. The next morning, we find the bus stop packed with people checking out our flying friends and reading their messages. We are overjoyed. Even weeks later, we notice that a few of our birds are still there. Sometimes, 'missions' means spending hours folding paper cranes in an effort to bring just a little truth, hope and encouragement to a cold bus stop in a busy, dirty city.
PHOTO BY FER MOS
07
EASTERN
EUROPE PHOTO BY SIERRA EMERY
JOY IS NOT DETERMINED BY THE CIRCUMSTANCES AROUND YOU JOY PERSISTS AND THRIVES IN SPITE OF HARDSHIP, AND IT SPRINGS FORTH
FROM THE CONSCIOUSNESS THAT YOU ARE LOVED
YOU ARE VALUABLE. YOU ARE WORTH LOVING
YOU ARE WORTH DYING FOR. AND JESUS CHRIST RECOGNIZED THIS
HE DIED SO THAT YOU COULD LIVE TOGETHER WITH HIM
HE IS A PERSON. NOT A PICTURE ON A WALL
HE IS REAL, AND HE IS HERE HE IS THE KING OF THE UNIVERSE, THE MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH THE CREATOR OF EVERYTHING, FROM THE COMPLICATED INTRICACIES OF
YOUR DNA TO THE “SIMPLICITY” OF YOUR FRECKLES
HE CREATED THE MIGHTY OCEANS AND SET THEIR BOUNDARIES HE SHIFTED THE CONTINENTAL PLATES OF THE EARTH’S CRUST
RAISING MOUNTAINS AND SEPARATING CONTINENTS
HE BREATHED THE STARS INTO EXISTENCE AND THIS MIGHTY GOD KNOWS YOUR NAME HE EVEN KNOWS THE NUMBER OF HAIRS ON YOUR HEAD
A NUMBER WHICH CAN CHANGE 100 TIMES A DAY
BECAUSE TO HIM, YOU ARE WORTH IT
YOU ARE WORTH KNOWING AND YOU ARE WORTH LOVING
YOU ARE VALUABLE IT WAS WORTH HIS LIFE FOR YOU TO BE FRIENDS WITH HIM
TO BE AN HEIR OF HEAVEN WITH HIM
TO BE ADOPTED INTO THE ROYAL FAMILY OF GOD
IN THIS, WE KNOW JOY BY ALEX NICASTRO
PHOTOS BY SIERRA EMERY
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INNOCENT SOULS It was a night in the middle of January, but bright decorations still filled the city center of Chisinau, Moldova. The air was cold, yet filled with the excitement and joy of the holidays, and the sky was dark, but you could still see the faces of your friends in the glow of the colored lights. Our company on this night did not consist of our usual outreach friends- we had the privilege of spending this evening at a rehabilitation center with women who had been trafficked into the sex industry, and subsequently rescued. Although my passion and calling is to see justice served through the love of Jesus, I never imagined that I could live this out by simply spending time with and encouraging young women rescued from prostitution. The life that they previously lived taught them only to believe that they are disposable and that their purpose was to be used as an object. They did not know
their identity as the beautiful woman each was made to be. These girls had been thrown out and sold by their mothers, stepfathers, and brothers. They had been rescued from a world of slavery, rape and torture. Now, we were able to be with them for one special evening. What I learned from this experience was that living through something so awful and surviving with deep wounds completely alters your perception of the world and changes the source of your joy. These girls were ecstatic just to spend time with us- to pose by a tacky Christmas tree, to make every silly face known to man for our photographs. One of the women cried at the sight of a young girl riding a pony. Seeing the smiles on their faces and the tears in their eyes during these simple moments made me want to learn to be more like them in this way- to find the joy in the little things, in the clichĂŠ things,
in the things I usually overlook. Sometimes God gives you small moments that are just so perfect that you have nothing left to do but thank Him. For me, it was the moment in which I posed next to the Christmas tree with one of these precious women (who was only fourteen) when I realized I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I was struck with the knowledge that God had orchestrated every minute of my life in the past few months so that I could be there right then, basking in the joy of these innocent souls with wornout bodies, laughing with girls I had just met but still loved with everything in me. It is funny that those girls found us to be such a blessing, because their joy, love and presence taught me far more than I could have ever taught them. STORY BY CARLY O'CONNELL PHOTOS BY SIERRA EMERY
9 To find out more about anti-trafficking measures in Moldova visit: bol.md/
THE DOCTOR COMES TO ROMA CAMPS The proof is found as a mother holds her dying baby boy, black splotches creeping across his fragile neck. His father, eyes wide with fear, slams on the gas and the truck tires spin, flinging garbage into the air. A broken word of praise creaks from withered lips and the baby starts to breathe again. Bullets on a Bulgarian mountain fall as God wills them. They make holes in the hard packed dirt, and hope creeps out of the craters. Soviet weaponry takes potshots at the enemy of our souls, reclaiming every bloodstained inch of ground. From the Red dirt, mustard seeds spring forth defiantly into trees, the branches twisting and sprouting new leaves, giving shade beneath the mountain to travellers far from home.
STORY BY ALEX NICASTRO
PHOTO BY SIERRA EMERY
Strange tongues resonate with clarity in desperate ears, giving safe passage through the mines. Frozen feet are planted in the ice of an abandoned palace, fallen into ruin, yearning to be remade. The very air cried with the hope of restoration to the glory the Maker had in mind. It was a wondrous sight, beheld by few and ignored by all, uncared for by the world. The floor a ruin, and the ballroom nothing more than a suggestion of what was, and what could be. The ceiling was gone, and so were the statues, but still the clock remains. The pillars remain. The foundation is strong. And the gaping holes in the ceiling and walls only serve to let in the light. Seashells wash up on the swells of constant motion. Tiny, fragile homes are tossed by the foaming waves and broken upon the rocky shore. The inhabitants are scattered. But there is a place where they all meet, and take refuge in one another. It is a place of pure love and selfless care. The fatherless become fathers through the Father. They thank us for what we’ve left behind, as grateful tears well up in our own eyes. How could they be so generous?
“”
In The City Of Joy, where the Impaler made his home and where the eradication of faith was once seen as the path to power, we found new beginnings. New life, new calendars and solidarity. On the hallowed grounds of bloody revolution we stood and declared joy, while in the wastelands, forest pines grew. They spring up from Spackle and filth, child’s hands shaping their branches and giving them their foundations. The streets are cleared of their detritus, showing the Way beneath.
where the ERADICATIONof faith was once seen as the PATH to POWER, we found new beginnings.
GROW
STORY BY GRETCHEN GUNTER
WORK BY TRINDA BAXTER
GRAPHIC DESIGN
It was just an ordinary day. Seven young artists were hoping to catch a glimpse of MADE, a creative space in Berlin. We were expecting a quick conversation and perhaps a picture before we would continue on to scout out some cardboard and spend our last day in the city creating street art for a new collaboration concept entitled 'Imagine'. This is a simple word with many meanings. Imagine who you can be. Imagine potential. Imagine a new image. Imagine how God can transform you. When we told the artists at MADE about our idea we were offered a blank canvas, three bottles left over from their last installation and a table full of supplies. We worked for hours, praying as we went. We were collaborating. Wendy and I created a world on the bottles; on one side we wrote out the word IMAGINE. As you turn the bottles over the word suddenly becomes reality. We wanted to showcase that imagination is more than just the word. The whole team participated; Mackenzie added spots of color into the design while Cody, Patrick and Tina documented the process. Mandy also began sharing stories with one of the co-founders of the space, which turned into a conversation about his personal passion and purpose. We could not believe what a great opportunity God had given us. We had little dreams of combining our art to form this idea, but God had bigger plans for us. The team at MADE was so inspired by our finished product that they wanted to make a mini-documentary about our creative process. The short film will be on their website right along with MADE’s “Visions of Visionaries” series. We started the day looking for cardboard and ended the day filming a documentary with professional artists. The wildest part is that our creation was no masterpiece. It was simply an idea God had given to us. As we began to develop the concept we allowed God to work through us as artists- it was not our skill and talent that was seen, but the Holy Spirit. Our creative process spoke to the people at MADE and they could tell there was something different about us. We were created to create and God used our art to open many doors that day because of our obedience.
9 More on innovative interdisciplinary art projects at: made-blog.com/
DESIGN IN PROGRESS
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NEPAL & IN
DIA photo by GABI METZ MEIER
photo by trinda baxter
photo by GABI METZMEIER
photo by annika felder
VALUABLE STORY BY TESS SPELLER
Walking the streets of India, we saw many different kinds of people, but it was the lifelessness and emptiness in the eyes of beggars and street children that really left an impression on my heart. I don't know what they feel or how they see the world, but I imagine a numbness or hardness forms inside their hearts in order for them to bear the looks of disdain they receive, being passed by on the streets each day and treated just like the piles of garbage littering the roads. Imagine sitting in the same spot each day, seeing the same people walk past you without a single acknowledgement. Or, the only human interaction a hand, pushing you away. What would it feel like to live like this day after day? To be watched over by someone who forced you to look as undignified as possible? Would you begin to doubt your value? Would life lose its appeal or sense of purpose? Would the dreams and hopes you once had become abandoned? As much as these people begged for money, I knew they needed so much more. They needed to know the depths of God's love for them. They needed to hear His voice call out, "My children, it doesn't matter if you have been stepped on, trampled, or told you are the garbage of the world. You are so precious to me. You are my beloved sons and daughters, closest to my heart, the apple of my eye, fully accepted and loved unconditionally. I have a plan for you that goes beyond your weaknesses, your failures and inabilities, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and future. (Jeremiah 29:11)'" When we begin to realize our value, worth, and purpose in God's eyes, life becomes vibrant and full of wonder. We begin to see what He sees in his creation-- the beauty and value in all He has made. We walk with our heads held high, unafraid of the giants we might face because He is with us and He has given us the authority to do all He has called us to. We learn to walk with Him each day not knowing where He will take us next, but trusting that His plan is good and perfect and never boring. Life is turned from a dull black and white movie on replay into an action-packed adventure filled with hope, beauty, and colour.
photo by GABI METZ MEIER
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PHOTO BY SOPHIA JUNG
PHOTO BY DANI THEURER
Going into outreach, you know there will be difficult days. Days that you’re exhausted. Days your body will ache. Days you’ll want to quit and you just want to cry. Days when you’re wondering what God is doing and if what you are doing is just some crazy idea. Days full of frustration… And, days in which you have to convince yourself that you are there for a reason, and that God has a purpose for this time. But you also know that there will be those days when you realize all the sacrifice, pain and time will be worth it. You will see happiness and joy in the people around you, and in yourself. You will see God work in ways you never thought possible, and you will see much more. There might even be days when you feel and experience all these things at once. We experienced all of these things and more during one of the wildest days of outreach, in a small village in the mountains of mid-western Nepal. We went from staying at the local YWAM base, to staying in an open air 'hotel', to hiking up a steep mountain for five hours to our final destination, which turned out to be a different location than we had planned. When we reached the top of the mountain, we were all exhausted. Tired, hungry and sore, our blistered feet ached and our bodies collapsed from lack of energy and water. We didn't know what was next but God had something big planned. We ended up playing with children, having a worship and prayer time, performing skits and just loving the people there. That night, because we had nowhere else to stay, we found ourselves sleeping at the house of one of the village elders. This was one of the craziest times of outreach, and it led to so much more. Over the next few days, as we stayed in that village, we spent hours praying and worshiping, distributing Bibles, and sharing God's love and grace with this village. Some villagers made the decision to follow Jesus. Our team learned a number of things from this experience. We were taught that, no matter what, God always has a plan. We learned that He will never leave us. We learned to trust, without questioning, even the wildest of God's plans. Although believing these simple truths is sometimes difficult, days like the one we spent on top of that mountain in Nepal make that believing a bit easier.
PHOTO / STORY BY MADELINE WILLIAMS
Purpose is something that everyone wrestles with in one way or another. As a musician, I've struggled with it. Not many things give me more joy than sitting down to play, learning a new song and singing, but I have found that this in itself was never quite enough for me. Scientists make technological advances that change our society, doctors heal people, and I make music. Why? What about live shows? That was another thing I had a problem with. Why did people perform? Recognition, an ego-boost, to find acceptance? Some people play just for the sake of it, which is a beautiful thing, but I needed a deeper purpose than that before I could justify stepping onstage. That was my state of mind when I started DTS. Actually, I had looked for a Fine Arts DTS and found MOTA, but when I got to Germany, I couldn't ignore God's nudges towards the music track. By the end of our first music track meeting, I could no longer ignore the fact that performance was an essential part of music. The stubborn part of me tried to refuse to perform until I found a solid reason to, but the rational part of me knew that if I wanted to get anywhere, I had to start moving. I knew that there had to be some deeper reason for music and performance if that was indeed what God had led me to. I've since discovered that one of the best ways to learn is to just do; so I did. I found out this was God's plan all along, because step by step, He showed me.
STORY BY DARBY SHUTE
PHOTO BY ALLIE REYNA
MUSIC
For our first songwriting assignment, I wrote about the first time I really encountered Jesus. I was practicing it in my room one day when my roommate said, "Darby, your song really makes me think about my relationship with God." What a compliment! Someone saw my music as more than entertainment, as more than just a showcase of myself. I remember doing street music in Nuremberg during minioutreach. I also clearly remember not wanting to. I hated the idea of standing in the streets to showcase myself and have coins tossed in my guitar case. But I sat and played anyway, albeit with my case shut tightly, in a square outside of a metro station. I started singing, "There's no place I would rather be than here in your love, Jesus." Then Stephan, homeless and inebriated, settled down for a moment to say in his broken English, "love‌ I feel the- the love." A German-speaking friend took it from there. During outreach in China I played at an art show hosted by our team. That afternoon, I prayed that the Spirit would somehow touch peoples' hearts through us. After I finished my set, I talked to a Chinese man who had been standing nearby the whole time. "I feel so much emotion when you play," he said. I was able to tell him about the Holy Spirit, and how God was the one reaching to his heart- how all of my music was from God and for God. I still can't define the purpose of music and art. But somewhere near the end of DTS, I looked back and realized that I had been slowly uncovering it. Scientists made technological advances that changed our society, doctors saved people and God had given me music to change a heart.
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En Kazanlak, Bulgaria, visitamos un poblado de romanies. Su aldea, prácticamente un gueto, estaba rodeada por un muro que la separaba del resto de la ciudad. Al cruzar aquella ''muralla'' te encontrabas con niños vestidos con ropa sucia y rota corriendo descalzos, burros y caballos como medio de transporte, casas y barracas de madera, barro y trozos de plástico... era como estar en un país del tercer mundo a tan solo 20 minutos de casa. Durante la semana organizamos varias actividades con los niños: canciones, juegos, bailes, manualidades... Pero una de mis actividades favoritas fue la de pintar una parte del muro que rodeaba el poblado. Compramos pinceles y pintura de varios colores, y decidimos dibujar árboles y algunos animales. Me encanta la ilustración, así que fue muy divertido pintar pinos, abetos y elefantes a gran escala. Al día siguiente, durante nuestro tiempo devocional, abrí mi Biblia en Isaías y, curiosamente, Dios me dio este versículo: “Plantaré en el desierto cedros, acacias, mirtos y olivos; en áridas tierras plantaré cipreses junto con pinos, olmos y abetos”. Se me dibujó una sonrisa, y dije al equipo: “chicos … ¡estamos haciendo crecer pinos en desiertos!". Para el mundo esta aldea es una tierra árida: nada crece, no hay esperanza, pero con Dios pintamos e hicimos crecer abetos, pinos, elefantes, cebras y leones, llenos de colores, luz, amor y esperanza, porque para El no hay desierto suficientemente árido como para no plantar y hacer crecer las semillas de su Reino. Cuando partimos hacia Moldávia en nuestra furgoneta azul, cogí mi libreta y comencé a escribir la letra de una nueva canción... que se llamaría ''Wasteland Pines''. STORY / LYRICS BY KEILA OLMO
A BAND IN A VAN STORY BY ERIKA ODEM / KEILA OLMO / TABEA SAWATZKY
"Though I may never be a rockstar, sell a million albums, or get to play concerts in front of thousands of people, outreach showed me how God can use music to make such a significant impact in peoples' lives. It brings them together, opens doors to form relationships and reaches past the walls that other ways of sharing Jesus might not be able to. Music is such a blessing from God. When we truly understand how much He can use it, we won't ever hold back from the fear of being rejected again." QUOTE / PHOTO BY TESS SPELLER
With only 14 days remaining before outreach, the countdown was on. The castle was buzzing with sleepless excitement as all 120 students finished last minute projects for our final art exhibition before leaving on outreach. As musicians, we were assigned to split up into smaller groups for our official 'outreach bands'. Our Eastern Europe outreach band was officially named 'The Vanmates'. At this time, we could never have expected to do such things as:
• Playing in a basement show for angsty teenagers between punk bands while in Greece. • Leading all-night worship in churches where the whole congregation dances and sings around the pews. • Busking to buy small treats for the team such as popcorn and a French press. • Being instructed on how to play and sing while on the stage leading worship. • Busking on the streets and being joined by hippie travelers who are part of a circus. • Learning to write songs while on the road: in the van, in the shower, in team meetings, in cafés, on buses, etc. • Chasing down Roma children while playing music to keep their eyes away from the chalk pack that one of the team members was opening (it didn't work. All the children jumped on the chalk pack...and the team member). • Being convinced by a drunk man to sing opera in a city center. • Describing our music genre, which is Folk/Indie, to a venue and being asked if we were from India. Playing our songs what felt like 20,000 times a day- with a joyful spirit. • Playing on the streets in freezing cold weather, and ending up writing songs with titles such as ‘Our fingers Are So Cold’. • Playing in safe houses for girls who have just been rescued from human trafficking. • Bringing joy to a home for disabled teenagers who joined with shakers, jinglebells, kazoos and glockenspiels. • Becoming friends with complete strangers simply by playing music in the streets. • Being inspired by amazing people and places we went and writing songs about them; songs that we will take with us ‘Everywhere We Go’. After 10 weeks full of experiences such as these, we asked ourselves: Was it worth it? Did we successfully reach people through our music? The answer is yes!
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OUTREACH SNAPSHOTS
As a writing track, we were given the challenge of completing a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. After many long nights and extravagant amounts of coffee, I succeeded in producing something which met the word quota, but will never see the light of day. Here’s an excerpt which you won’t understand.
STORY BY JOSHUA DAVISON PHOTO BY MADELINE WILLIAMS
WRITING
“The ship on which Carlton sat was a B-class Scavenger, a lurching hunk of metal from which mechanical arms protruded drunkenly at the ungainliest of angles. It was ugly as hell, but he had expected that. Scavengers had been churned out during the war for the sole purpose of scuttling the endless remains of ruined juggernauts scattered across space. Most had been decommissioned years ago – those that remained were now a decentralized collection of privateers, rogue treasure hunters with the state insignia emblazoned on their hulls, barely subsisting on the leftovers. As of now, they were all but unaccountable to the civilized universe as long as their profits were properly allocated. The hiss of oxygen subsided and the airlock door unsealed with sound of a spaghetti jar popping open. Carlton stood and exhaled heavily. He had been briefed on this position: six weeks of unreliable tech, unsavory food, and an equally unreliable and unsavory crew. Mercifully, half it would be travel, since all the crafts still left to be scuttled were deep in space. He was here because scientific expertise was usually required when dealing with these long undisturbed wrecks- some of them still threw radiation powerful enough to melt tissue, while others leached a chemical cocktail harsh enough that the fumes curled your fingernails and ate away your septum – some had mold cultures growing like fluorescent blankets on the warmth of still-functioning generators. And every once in a while, you would find men alive inside, their eyes sunken and wild and their skin translucent from the lack of sun. Usually they were dead though, just emaciated specters floating malignantly in zero G. He shuddered and picked up his briefcase.”
9 To write your own novel in a month check out: nanowrimo.org/
STOP HATING YOUR BODY BY HANNAHOTT-FUCHS
glaube mir, dass was sie dir zeigen ist illusion, niemand sollte so aussehen. niemand soll meinen er müsste so aussehen. du bist wunderschön. sag es laut. du bist schön. einen perfekten menschen gibt es nicht und wird es auch nie geben. du brauchst dir auch erst gar keine mühe geben so zu werden wie die, die sie dir zeigen im fernsehen, in den modezeitschriften, den plakaten an den häuserwänden und u-bahnhaltestellen. sie sind irreal. sie sind photoshop. es gibt nur echte mädchen. mädchen die aufs klo müssen. mädchen die eine große nase haben, fettige haare bekommen und keine perfekt ebenmäßige haut haben. mädchen die nicht ziro size tragen. mädchen die macken haben. aber vielleicht sind es ja gerade die macken die uns ausmachen, die uns liebenswert machen.
AN EXCERPT FROM
THE DREAMER'S DREAM
BY KEVYN BROWN
Patiently He stood amongst the clouds, staring. His mouth was in a exhaustive gasp, panting out of tiredness, His work had come to an end. He had painted the world. Now the heavens were colored in shimmering jewels as the ground was covered in emeralds of green; O’ how beautiful the oceans tide was as it drifted into bays of sapphires. The stars of flames lit up the blanket of darkness that stretched across the sky. As He saw what He had created, He rejoiced. And out of the emeralds and sapphires, out of His joy and cheering, His voice laughed, and it shook the world, and there we came, sprouted up and covered in gold. We shined and gleamed, and we called this world Immaculate.
THAILAND PHOTO BY ALLIE REYNA
A week earlier, I would never have thought it possible, and yet here I am, standing in the boxing ring in the middle of the Red Light District in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I breathe in deeply, thinking how crazy things happen when you tell God you will do anything He asks. The music starts, played through the speakers normally used to broadcast boxing matches. As I begin to dance, I feel God's presence sweep over me. I am no longer focused on the people around me; this dance is meant for only one. In this place where darkness is welcomed, this dance is meant not to evangelize, but simply to glorify the name of Jesus. As I finish, I am overwhelmed by God's love for His children, and I am confident that there is hope for freedom in this place.
JOY IN RED LIGHT STORY BY JOY SNYDER
PHOTOS BY ALLIE REYNA
PHOTO BY KELLI FLORES
PHOTO BY KELLI FLORES
PHOTO BY JENN TATE
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DOOR OF HOPE PHOTO BY KELLI FLORES
STORY BY RACHEL RUMMAGE
The worn path that led us into the slums looked the same every day. The cracked pavement wove between ramshackle houses along the refuse filled river. The landfill functioned as our daily meeting spot. Laying down our blue tarp, we pulled out worn crayons, chalk, paint or colorful beads and waited for the kids to come. One by one they came, with dirty hands and faces. Among the group was 3 year old Pon, who always has food in both hands, and who is probably HIV positive. There was also 12 year Bo who lives with her father and has been taking care of her younger brother after their mother died, as well as Doy, who has a toothless grin and loves to do cartwheels. As we carried our cameras and paint brushes into the slums, our own artistic expressions of hope gave freedom to the kids to create alongside us. Taking rocks from the field around us and making them extraordinary with simple coats of paint, we taught the kids how to create something they could be proud of. Paum showed us her beautifully drawn coloring page and Gop proudly showed us his crayon dinosaurs. As our art connected us, we saw them lay down defenses as they became inspired and affirmed in their work. For a few tense minutes at a time we would let them hold our cameras and they would snap away. They were intrigued and excited as they learned how to focus by looking through the view-finder. We began to see the world through their eyes. By giving them time to make and create, we gave space for the truth of the Word and the love of the Father to come in.
PHOTO BY JENN TATE
We would leave after every day spent with the kids with our hands and faces dirty, speckled with paint or with chalk under our fingernails. We learnt that by giving people the tools of creativity that you open the door for hope.
EXPAND
Early in DTS, I heard God tell me He wanted me to dance in China. At that point, I didn’t know I would be going there on outreach. When I found out, I hung onto those words as my main objective, scary as they were.
STORY BY JENNIFER WELDEN PHOTO BY ALLIE REYNA
DANCE
During outreach, our team focused on hosting weekly art exhibition nights at a local gallery. As the first show approached and our student curator pressed us to create a lineup, I felt God urging me to commit to two performances. I also felt the simultaneous assurance and intimidation that comes from putting my faith in God’s call while still being scared witless to perform. God directed me with a song title and concept, but also told me to perform without choreography. For the rest of the week I focused on assembling a costume and helping my team. The threat of my upcoming performances, a foreboding nuisance, never left my mind. My waiting didn’t last forever. The evening arrived; the audience was ready. I took a deep breath, committed my dance to God, and nodded for the music to begin. Once it started, my body just moved. I never had to think of what to do next— not once. The music seemed to be over so quickly, even though my first song was eleven minutes long. I bowed with a gleaming smile, although my lungs were empty of breath. I was filled with joy and a sense of accomplishment. People loved my performance and I was kept busy discussing its meaning for the rest of the night. I repeated this process every week, with God as my focus in China. Looking back, I see simplicity and repetition in the task God brought me, yet in each dance I performed, I experienced the same level of challenge. Despite my worries, God fueled my inspiration and my body from before the beginning of outreach until the last breathless push of the very last dance.
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PHOTOS BY MADELINE WILLIAMS
PHOTO BBY KELLI FLORES
PHOTO BY EMILY HALLQUIST
CHINA &
HONG KONG PHOTO BY CODY STOBBE
PHOTO BY EMILY HALLQUIST
PHOTO BY GRETCHEN GUNTER
"My dreams were never this big. My thoughts were never this creative. This has been a season of refining faith, a season of reaching into the unknown, and a season of seeing how God can use us no matter where we are." - Kaitlyn Augustson
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STORY BY Jule Schmidt / Sharon Eichler
VISA WUNDER Visa´s...wenn der europäische Teil unseres China Teams dieses Wort hört, denken wir gleich an ein Ereignis, welches wert ist erzählt zu werden. Unser Visa um in China zu bleiben, reichte vorerst für 30 Tage. Also mussten wir uns um eine weitere Verlängerung über 30 Tage bemühen. Zusammen mit Yvonne und einem chinesischen Kontakt mussten wir dann den Visabüros einige Besuche abstatten. Weil die Chancen eher schlecht standen die Visas zu bekommen, mussten wir in Erwägung ziehen, dass wir innerhalb weniger Tage das Land verlassen müssen. In der gleichen Woche hatten wir wieder eine Exhibiton-Night und dort tauchte ein Anwalt auf, welcher aufgrund seines Jobs viel Einfluss auf die Behörden hat. Ein paar Leute aus unserem Team kamen ins Gespräch mit ihm. Er schien sehr interessiert und stellte viele Fragen über unsere Kunst. Während dem Gespräch erzählten sie ihm von unserer momentanen Visasituation und er war schlichtweg empört. Künstler wie wir dürfen nicht einfach so dazu gezwungen werden, das Land zu verlassen. So setze er sich in Kontakt mit dem Visabüro. Als wir dann ein paar Tage später zu diesem Büro gingen, um zu erfahren ob wir jetzt bleiben können oder nicht, bekamen wir zu unserer größten Überraschung den Stempel in den Reisepass. Und das, obwohl wir noch nicht einmal alle Anforderungen erfüllt hatten! Die nächsten 30 tage in China lagen also noch vor uns und dadurch wurde uns noch einmal bestätigt, dass Gott uns hier in China haben möchte. Wir sind Gott so dankbar und dieses Erlebnis zeigt, dass er immer für Überraschungen gut ist!
Lover PHOTO BY KAITLYN AUGUSTSON LYRICS BY EVELYN ZACHARIAS
Hey my little girl welcome in my presence I want to show you the world with my eyes Come read my thoughts about these people I love to share my heart with you
They're my beloved They are my treasures And I carry each one in my heart I'm the creator of their life I know them by name
I'm the lover of your heart And I love to be with you I want to give you my heart That you can see the truth about them
Look at this old man broken in his body and weak He must be careful with each move But one day we will run over the fields of heaven He won't know anymore what his past was about
She's my little girl made by my hands I'm obsessed with her beauty And this old man he's so passionate about life I am the author of his story I'm a lover of their heart I'm longing to be with them I'm chasing after their hearts That I can give my love to them
I'm a lover of his heart I was waiting so long for him I'm chasing after his heart I love to spend my time with him They're my beloved They are my treasures And I carry each one in my heart I'm the creator of their life I know them by name
ART, ASIE, GALLERIE et JeSUS WORK / STORY BY ELSIE POMIER
Une nouvelle culture... je m’émerveille devant ses arts. Pourquoi cette technique, pourquoi ce style graphique, ce genre d’atmosphère... Pourquoi et comment cela s’est-il développé dans cette civilisation et pas la mienne par exemple ? La beauté des différences me surprendra toujours et le plus surprenant c’est de les harmoniser. Et la galerie avec laquelle nous avons pu travailler est un lieu où se produit cette réaction. Rien n’est trop petit, rien n’est trop grand, pour proclamer qui Il est !! » Presque chaque jour dans le studio de la galerie, s’ouvrant sur la rue par de longues fenêtres verticales, le processus de création devenait alors un moyen d’aiguiser la curiosité des passants. Lorsqu’on préparait les vernissages,en laissant les stores ouverts, les gens entraient déjà, regardaient les projets artistiques. Les discussions s’engageaient, certaines se sont terminées et d’autres durent encore. Durant ces 2 mois, j’ai pu communiquer visuellement quelques réflexions. Et durant les expositions, intéressés par tel ou tel projet, les invités posent des questions et l’ Art brise l’anonymat. On explique alors d’où proviennent ces réflexions. Et lorsqu’on use de cette liberté, cela répond à cette recherche de l’authenticité du témoignage. On ne peut pas mentir, inventer ou même cacher. Cette facilité de discuter m’a tellement choquée que, durant la première exposition je me suis limitée à parler seulement concept. À ma grande surprise, pas de culpabilité mais une challenge se présenta : continuer comme ça ou oser et profiter de cette pure liberté pour aller jusqu’à la source, celui qui fait partie intégrante de chaque projet. C’est à dire étais-je prête à dévoiler mon témoignage, raconter des expériences concrètes et écouter les avis, ou même une nouvelle traduction du projet artistique ? Ainsi plusieurs fois j’ai discuté du fait que Dieu, bien vivant, parle avec nous! Les conversations s’engagent, s’enchaînent de moins en moins et deviennent de plus en plus profondes. La curiosité devient faim, soif, la foi s’active. Et on voit le Saint-Esprit agir parce qu’ils s’attendent simplement à ce que Dieu leur parle. Maintenant je suis partie, peut être que je ne les reverrai jamais, mais l’unique élément dont je suis sûre c’est que Dieu ne les lâchera pas et que la pensée de l’Eternité les ramènera à nos conversations. Et pour ceux qui en veulent plus, l’équipe de la galerie restent plus longuement sur leur chemin. Leur but est de répondre à cette soif, cette faim par des études de la Bible, des amitiés édifiantes... Et ils continuent à développer leur réseau afin de toujours être plus performants dans l’unité avec les chrétiens locaux.
PHOTOS BY KAITLYN AUGUSTSON
STORY BY CODY STROUT
VIDEO
While on outreach in China, my team had the opportunity to host a number of art exhibitions in a local gallery. One evening during such an event, I stepped out for a moment to grab some dinner. When I returned, Yvonne, one of my outreach leaders, found me and said she had a story to tell. Yvonne had been giving a tour of the gallery to a couple who had wandered in. She mentioned that there were films being shown, which interested the couple. One film being displayed by my teammate Tina Dikih had a line of people waiting to view it, but mine was free. They began to watch. Yvonne described to me how, about halfway through the film, the woman watching ripped the earbud that she was sharing with the man out of His ear so that she could have both. She watched the entire film and, even when it was over, she continued to stare at the screen. Yvonne went on to tell me that the woman looked as if she were going to cry. Culturally, this is a strange thing, as emotions are often kept to oneself. The woman looked up at Yvonne and said that her life was not what she wanted it to be. She paused, and then asked, "but Jesus can help?" Yvonne responded with a, "Yes," and the women paused and then repeated her question. Again Yvonne responded, "Yes." Without another word, the woman took off for the door. What amazed me is that this film of mine that the woman watched that evening never talked blatantly about God. The narration speaks of His grace in my life, but not once are the words "God" or "Jesus" spoken. I believe that the reason the film had such an impact was because, from its conception, it was inspired by the Holy Spirit. The creative process for me in any film always starts with seeing 'shots' of the film that I am beginning to create in my mind. This is where the Holy Spirit and I can create and collaborate. First Corinthians 2:16 speaks of how we have the mind of Christ, which allows us to co-create with Him. The Holy Spirit can show me images or can impress on me themes or ideas for a film. This is when I will have shots that I just cannot get out of my head, or ideas that I just cannot get off my heart. It all begins with intimacy with Jesus. It starts by being inspired by who He is to me and what He has done in my life.
PHOTO BY CODY STROUT PHOTO BY CODY STROUT
PHOTO BY KAITLYN AUGUSTSON
9 You can view Cody's short-film online at: vimeo.com/55010053
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GOD PROVIDES PHOTO BY JOANNE VOORHOEVE
When I first heard about YWAM Herrnhut, it was a dream to me. I knew that this beautiful place would offer the perfect environment for me to grow in my faith and in my art, but I also knew that there was no way I had enough money to come. I emailed the base and they told me just to get the money for the flight and that God would provide the rest. Even though I had many doubts, I came anyway. I thought that I would have to stress about everything and that I would be in debt for the next year, but I was completely wrong. Within the first two months of DTS I received over 3,000 euro from friends and family who didn’t even have the money to give, God just told them to. I came to Germany with under 200 US dollars and have now paid all of my fees. God provides. If I have learned anything, it is that God provides.
CHARLENE MOLINO
During a time of generosity in a morning worship set at the Herrnhut base, I felt that God was asking me to give my camera to a guy whose camera broke on the first week of DTS. This person was a videographer who needed a camera. I gave him my camera knowing that God would provide for me a new camera in His time. Weeks went by and I began to think that I wouldn't receive a camera. Then 2 weeks before outreach, I received a new Canon 5D! On the same day I received $2000 for my outreach. What I learned from this experience is that when we totally rely on God for our everything, He provides.
PATRICK DINNEEN
My team was about to embark on a two month outreach to East Asia. I was only 800 euros short of what I needed, but a week before we left, God prompted me to give all of what I had to someone else who needed it. After battling with myself, I chose to be obedient. The result was incredible. In seven days, God not only provided the 800 I originally needed, but also all of the other funds I had given away. It taught me that no matter my circumstances, God will always be the creator of the universe, and the one who owns everything in it.
KRISTINA DIKIH
In an Indian train station a couple of students began to pray for a sick woman and soon there were lines forming for prayer. I wasn't with them, but when they came back to where I was, they brought people who were curious with them. A guy sat next to me and we started talking. He saw how I cared for a street youth who was with us and asked me why I was doing it. I got to tell him all about the love of Jesus and how Jesus cared for the sick, the orphans and the poor. Soon the guy wanted a Bible but I did not have one to give to him, or access to anyone who could get one for him. I did not know what to do but God suddenly prompted me to say, "You know what, I don't know how to get you a Bible but God does and I really believe that if we ask Him for it right now He will give it to you." We prayed right there. Miraculously a few minutes later a wandering pastor who knew nothing about us or what had happened at the station came by handing out tracks. I ran up to him with excitement and to my amazement he had one Bible left. God is so faithful and right then and there I was able to hand this guy a Bible in his own language and testify that God provides!
What seems to have shaken up my faith in God’s provision the most was the day I absentmindedly left my camera bag in a Starbucks in Nuremburg. As soon as I realized it was missing my heart sank, and I began to sprint through the streets back to Starbucks. Upon arriving, I ran down the stairs to where I left it only to find that it was gone. I decided to ask the baristas if anyone had left it with them and as I approached the counter I looked back and saw it. My camera bag was sitting next to a businessman. I nervously approached him thinking that most likely he would claim it as his. After talking to him and explaining that I was having a rough day and mistakenly forgot my bag, he informed me that he wanted to make sure it got back to me directly. He then insisted on buying me a coffee and started inquiring about my rough day. His questions were followed by an overflow of encouragement. God gave back a lot more than my camera bag that day. He gave me encouragement, revelation, and a tangible testimony of His provision.
TESS SPELLER
SIERRA EMERY
En mi viaje por Europa del Este, me encontraba en el país de Moldova, casi el final de Outreach, como estaba en el photo track necesitaba dinero para imprimir fotografías para un proyecto que tenia, inesperadamente una amiga se acerco, tomo mi mano, dejando dinero en ella, estaba tan sorprendida que solo pude abrazarla y agradecerle enormemente, estaba tan feliz porque Dios había provisto para el proyecto, y también como un simple acto de generosidad hace una gran diferencia.
FER MOS
ABBA, FATHER
STORY / PHOTO BY EMILY HALLQUIST
I am a MOTA DTS student. I am a photographer, a musician and an artist. I am also a single mother. I had always wanted to do a DTS but after having my daughter, it seemed like just one more thing I would have to pass on. I assumed that it was no longer an option for me, until God made it very clear that it was, and that this was the school He wanted me at. As soon as I made the decision to be obedient and come to Herrnhut, every fear and excuse flew out the window. It was as if the peace of God’s presence was a blanket keeping out anything that would make me stay home. Two months before the lecture phase started, I got my acceptance letter and began planning. I sold my car, every major appliance I owned, my studio lighting equipment and one of my cameras. I am not even sure where all the money came from but we had enough to pay for our tickets and my lecture fees. I packed up my four-year-old daughter, Caylee, and off we went. It hasn’t been easy. There have been breakdowns, tantrums and
moments where I was dead certain that God had lost His mind in calling me here. There were times when I questioned what in the world He was thinking, but I have experienced more personal growth and received more revelation of His truths in the last six months than in the last twenty-three years of my life. I have learned what it means to call the Lord my daddy. As a parent, it’s something that I have struggled with for almost five years, but God’s grace for me extends past when I am being a good Christian, or a good parent. His grace is meant for my brokenness. It's meant for the times when I suck at life, for the times my daughter is sick and I can’t drag myself out of bed for morning worship. It's meant for the moment I snap because my daughter drew on the walls of our apartment in China with bright green marker during outreach. His grace also extends to my teammates when they’re loud and crazy and wake her up at one a.m. His grace knows no bounds; I cannot confine it or restrain it. It exists regardless of
my attitude or circumstance. I have seen my daughter evangelize to a Chinese woman that would not even talk to me but gladly accepted a hug and a “Jesus loves you” from this smiling toddler. I have seen her make people cry because she wants to hang out with them and be their friend. I have seen the revelation of Christ in the eyes of a Chinese university student who asked to hear the gospel after seeing my photographs of Caylee on the walls of a gallery. I have seen what God can do with our inadequacies; I have seen what His grace can mean for our lives. DTS has changed my perception of who I am: I am not broken, I am not lost, I am not a sinner. I am human but He has redeemed me. I am no longer ashamed of my story or of where I have been because God can use my story to reach the nations. God’s role as my heavenly Father, my Abba, has radically changed my parenting. It has changed the way I view my role as a mother and it has changed the way I perceive love- it has made all the difference.
ARISE
STORY / WORK BY WENDY MICHEL
FINE ART
Free, at last. For many years I have been struggling with my identity; constantly searching for something I thought I lost. I searched for the real Wendy Michel in materialism, in my gifts and talents and even in the affirming words of others. Finally, the Lord took me on an adventure that would radically change my soul. I found myself sitting in the corner of my bedroom in complete defeat after a week filled with fear and depression. I got to a place where I believed that the Lord himself could not intervene. This feeling of complete fear, worthlessness and sadness weighed heavily in the pit of my heart and was beginning to take over my life. For all I knew, the enemy had won, and I had lost. A friend stopped by the next day after a 24-hour prayer meeting. She had the scripture reference 'Exodus 14:14' written on her hand. Out of curiosity I opened up my Bible and read the verse, “The Lord himself will fight for you, just stay calm.” This was my beginning of freedom. Throughout the following weeks I was in awe of the fact that the creator of the world fought for me – in awe that the creator of the world loved me, and that He created me in His perfect image. What does it mean to be made in the image of a God who is breathtaking and beautiful? The moment that this revelation sank in, the real battle began. I was exposed to some ugly truths about my past that gave reason to my insecurities. Words could not explain the powerful testimony that the Lord was walking me through, but my art could. I began to create as the Lord took me to deeper depths of His heart. In my pieces, I touch on the warfare I have gone through with my hair, skin complexion and internal growth. I realized that I had been conditioned to believe that, in order for an African American woman to be considered beautiful, she had to have long hair, lighter skin and a tough exterior. I realized that often the Lord will bring us to the root of issues in our lives and we perceive it as an a bad thing. In reality, God wants to face these lies with us so that He can remove all the rotten seeds in order for His living water to quench our souls once again. Surrendering myself to God has enabled me to be completely joyful with who I see in the mirror: Wendy Michel, a daughter of the King – fiercely and wonderfully made to be free, at last.
A JOURNEY OF
AWAKENING
PHOTOS BY PATRICK DINNEEN
STORY BY MACKENZIE CAMPOS
"I think the most effective way my art has reached others is when I can take my make-up case out on the street. It is an honor to share vulnerable moments, and this has opened up so many opportunities."
9 Check out Mackenzie's testimony told through make-up and poetry: youtube/5bZScV5r_m8/
Right before my twentieth birthday, I kind of hit rock bottom. I was dealing with being dismissed from school for the second time, and I felt like I had nowhere to turn. My parents were at a loss with trying to figure out how I could turn my life around. Our goal was to not allow rock bottom to be the end. One day, my Mom called me and presented me with an opportunity: I could apply to this school called Marriage of The Arts. There I would study art while I lived in Europe for 6 months. I didn’t do much research; I just applied. I had no idea why I was so ready to leave, but I did know one thing: I was supposed to be there. I came to the school with the intention of doing fine art. Painting was something I had always done for fun, but after a lackluster first exhibition night where I presented my amateur portrait and an interactive project that consisted of sealed bottles to awaken senses, my teacher approached me. She asked me where I really wanted to take my art and challenged me to dream. I love the artistry of fashion and make-up, so I decided the face would be my canvas. I gave up my paintbrushes and received an unbelievable donation of make-up and products. We were told to pray that God would give us a word or concept to turn into a project, and my word was ‘awaken’. Being awakened is a moment of clarity. It is a glimpse into what was and what could be. This revelation made me want to use my makeup to reach the lost, the hidden and those who are dying inside and need to be awakened to who God created them to be. Those desiring to be awakened from everything we believed we cannot be and cannot do. Awakened from our earthly selves to whom God created us to be; bright, alive and ready to take on the world. Over the last six months, God has awakened my soul and opened my eyes to the life He has waiting for me. He has combined my art and my story for His glory. He has challenged me to go out, meet women and help to pull out what He has planted inside each one of them. I want my passion for make-up and fashion to grow here so that it can explode into the world. God loves the creativity of the fashion and make-up industry. Now we just need the industry to love and glorify God.
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WORK BY SAVANNAH GRAHAM
WORK BY HANNA JOENSUU
PHOTO BY JOANNA
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BY CARLY O’CONNELL
PHOTO BY ANICA NEIMAN
TRANSFORM
CENTRAL A
SIA
PHOTO BY MARIA MOHR
PHOTO BY KATHLEEN SKAMRAHL
PHOTO BY MARIA MOHR
PHOTO BY KATHIA REYNDERS
JOURNAL EXCERPT / December 22: Our next stop was a garbage dump. Around 30 people were sorting through truckloads of waste that arrived from the capital, Bishkek. They were searching for metal and plasticanything they could re-sell. Most of them appeared to be older than fifty; however, a few were teenagers or mere children. Working in all extremes of weather and walking through chemical waste caused them
to appear very hardened. Each was a shell of a person wrapped in dirty rags and plastic bags. It was difficult for us to know what to do there. We tried to bring them joy in the form of music and gifts, but I felt like our efforts were greeted with empty stares. We had nothing in common except for a Father who loves us all. After the gifts were given we offered prayer, and some eagerly welcomed this.
I had the privilege of praying for two women. Knowing nothing about them, I prayed blessings and truth over them. Despite the language barrier, I could see that God was working in their hearts. The tears that slid from their eyes were, maybe for the first time, caused by love and not by the harsh winds of that mountain valley. STORY BY ERIK NICOLAJSEN PHOTO BY RYaN RICHARDSON
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The cigarette lights up your insides like a fire in a furnace. Once exhaled, the smoke leaves you as empty as it found you. You close your eyes in an attempt to ignore what the world has gathered before you. The stench of a barren history fills the air. You take another long, deep breath of freshly rolled chemicals. Once exhaled, the smoke leaves you as empty as it found you. Soon enough it’s been seared to the point of non-existence. The cigarette can no longer offer any relief in filling your hollow spaces. More than mere tapestries of smoke, Seek to inhale that which will satisfy your resounding caverns, unending. BY TONI HARVEY
PHOTO BY KATHIA REYNDERS
HOPE DIE S LAST BY JOSHUA DAVISON / PHOTO BY SEAN C. ROGERS
It’s 3 a.m. as Pavel pulls onto the highway that rings the city. You wouldn’t know it, but around him, Moscow’s underground sex industry is thriving. There are no brothels, no red light, nothing to mark this place as more than an ordinary stretch of Russian highway – only a lone person standing in a reflective vest on the shoulder. Pavel pulls up to him, the two exchange a few words, and then Pavel drives away. He takes the next right, down an unmarked road. Ten minutes into the woods, he reaches a clearing, and before him a familiar scene unfolds: several vans are parked here, and in them upwards of 50 girls sit waiting while pimps and hired security loiter. Another car is already here, and the driver is buying. Across the spread of his headlights, girls are lined up shoulder to shoulder. They’re ill clothed, and the red of their lipstick can’t disguise a bluish tinge creeping into the corners of the smiles they wear. They’re mostly Slavic; some African, a few Asian – many are clearly underage. They’re standing here because they’ve all been assigned a common monetary value – the value that the man in the vehicle has requested. Money changes hands, and one of the girls gets in the car. It wouldn’t be so much of a loss if she never came back. In this world, flesh is expendable.
Pavel knows this reality more deeply than most; he was once involved in the buying and selling of women before a 180 degree turn led him to Jesus. He is acutely familiar with the situation before him – the coercion, abuse and fear that is an everyday reality. Tonight, like many nights before, he ventures out into this world with hot tea and cake, an offer of legal and medical help, and a covert message that there is hope and a way out. This may not sound like much, but it’s made him an enemy in Russian organized crime. This is his first stop of the night – he’ll make several more, and he won’t even cover enough ground to visit a fraction of these sites. There is no one else doing what Pavel does in Moscow right now, and the need has never been greater. This year has been “the worst year for human rights in Russia in recent memory” according to Human Rights Watch. In the backlash against perceived foreign political meddling, the Duma has instituted a slew of laws that make it impossible for foreign funded aid work to continue in Russia. The few safehouses and organizations that once operated in Russia have disappeared. A well established International Organization for Migration (IOM) safehouse in Moscow was left in the hands of the government, who promptly closed it despite repeated promises that it would continue under government management. The chilling of relations between Russia and the West has been well documented in the Western media, but the situation on the ground hasn’t. In the midst of corruption and hostility, powerful organized crime, and the worst winter in years, non-governmental organizations have pulled out, and Moscow has been all but abandoned.
No one can attest to this better than Pavel and the small ring of contacts he has built. In recent months, his home has functioned as a temporary safehouse for several girls rescued out of prostitution. He has a wife and a family, yet there isn’t anywhere else for these girls to go.
was able to help in successful prevention activities at the BOL rehab center in Chisinau, Moldova. Prevention work of this kind is crucial if there is to be a change in the industry in Russia.
Although Pavel estimates that one in five of the girls he works with are HIV positive, In a world where his life has been threatened and the country has an HIV rate ballooning faster than that of Africa, with a gun to his head on many occasions, it the girl he was able to assist earlier this is hard to overestimate how dangerous this is. year miraculously had not contracted this But, in his words, this isn’t ministry, it’s war. disease after nine years in prostitution. Hope Dies Last was able to record her One of the girls recently rescued by Pavel was 14. story for an upcoming mini-documentary. It is sadly According to a former IOMemployee now working indicative of many others: with MTV Exit, of the 127,000 or so children who Born into poverty and raised in the orphanage phase out of Russian orphanages a year, a third of system of Ukraine, she travelled to Russia with a the girls will end up in prostitution within twelve man she barely knew who had showered her with months. Girls like this simply fall through the cracks gifts and promised her work. He turned out to be of an incomplete and impersonal social system. a trafficker, and she was trapped without papers, Prostitution is illegal, but there is really no recourse abused, and forced to work as a prostitute in in the face of corrupt law enforcement. Girls often Moscow. After several years, she was kidnapped pay police extortionate bribes for their freedom – and re-trafficked by a client. She was held naked after they’ve been rescued. in a room with several other women and forced to work around the clock in inhumane conditions. It was into this environment that Hope Dies Remarkably, she escaped last year, but illegal in Last (HDL) stepped this winter. A ministry birthed Russia and knowing nothing else, she returned to out of the Herrnhut community for the purpose of prostitution in Moscow. supporting those fighting human trafficking, they met Pavel in 2012 and have been able to work She, like many others, in no way wants the life with him and several of his contacts. Through that she has. But after so many years, she cannot this connection others within the community have yet trust in the glimmer of hope that Pavel risks his become involved in the initiative, supporting multiple life to offer, and so remains trapped in the only life organizations in the region. Last year, HDL provided she knows. Beginning of Life (BOL), a Moldovian anti-trafficking organization, with an educational fundraising video This world is inaccessibly foreign and removed to promote the organization internationally. In from the reach of the average person, but by faith, January they facilitated a MOTA outreach which Herrnhut is stepping into it.
STORY / PHOTO BY CODY STOBBE
PHOTOGRAPHY
Throughout the course of DTS it became more and more apparent to me that the aspect of sharing God’s love and presence through art is a fundamental way to achieve breakthrough in peoples' lives. The struggle of language and translation often gets in the way of us sharing the gospel and portraying God’s beauty; however, art surpasses this obstacle as a universal language through which we can share with people who God is and how much He loves them. As a student taking part in the photography track of the MOTA DTS, I was able to use my camera on multiple occasions to reveal peoples' true identity and capture how the Fathers' beauty shone through them. We are all created in the image of God. We are all beautiful. We are all intricate creations that were made merely from the dust beneath our feet. I was able to take photographs of hundreds of people, some of whom had never had their picture taken before. It did not matter where I went, whether in Germany or on outreach in China, people could connect through photography. I was able to do photo shoots with people in Nuremberg and Zittau where I would set up a makeshift studio and take portraits. Later on I would print these photos out and set up a location where the people could pick up the pictures I took of them. Sometimes, myself and the other photographers who participated would write down prophetic words and Bible verses for these people on the back of their pictures before giving them away. While on outreach in China some members of my team visited a water village— a very traditional part of the city we were staying in. In this village, the main source of income is the production and manufacturing of water chestnuts. We went there with the purpose of building relationships and just loving on the people, all while integrating photography. We walked around for hours just speaking with people, many of which had never heard the name of Jesus Christ before. After building up some trust in conversation, we would ask to take a photo. Later, we printed the photos and created goodie bags consisting of snacks, Bibles, and their portraits. When we returned to hand these out, we did not have a translator so it was all up to the Holy Spirit to use the photos and our actions to glorify God. The smiles and laughter we witnessed while handing out the bags was so uplifting. The fact that we had taken time out of our lives in order to simply care for the lost and the broken brought so much breakthough for the people we communicated with through our art.
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PHOTOS BY SIERRA EMERY
PHOTO BY SOPHIA JUNG
PHOTO BY KELLI FLORES
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