September 1, 2011
At four in the morning I woke up to compulsively check my email. I’ve been doing that for a couple weeks now . . . ever since the due date of my new little niece approached. This time, I saw the email I’d been looking for: “We’re on our way to the hospital!”
Immediately I thought about how that day I’d planned to accompany one of the advocates on a trip to the village to help prepare witnesses for trial. I knew I would be gone all day with no access to a computer or a phone with international capabilities. I thought about staying back so that I could be available to contact my family but I changed my mind. What better way to celebrate the gift of new life then to help freed laborers fight their former their oppressor?
So while my sister was in labor, I was at an old hospital in the village with an advocate, paralegal, and four victims who were being prepared to go to court, face their former owner, and tell their stories. We started the meeting outdoors but were advised to move inside the hospital building because it was believed that the former owner knew our IJM car and would come looking for us and for the victims. We needed to be somewhere inconspicuous. The preparations went very well and we were encouraged by the strength of their stories and the ability to recall the details that had occurred so many years before.
When we had finished the meeting I learned via email that Whitney Abigail Miller had entered the world at 1:26 pm, South Asia time. When we got back to the office I shared my joy with my thoughtful co-workers (who happen to be my husband and flatmate).
And in South Asian tradition, we celebrated by passing out treats to the office. This little girl was celebrated on two continents! Thank you Jesus for this precious gift.
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