For a while Tuesday night felt like a movie. I've only really experienced halloween on the tv screen before, it's not big in Sweden. Here, it's not only big, but BIG. Skeletons half buried in the gardens, evil pumpkins (how can a pumpkin be evil?) in the bushes and spiderweb everywhere. And candy, lots and lots of candy, candy to last you for a year. Seriously.

The little girl in the family where I live dressed up as an angel. A very cute angel. We went "trick or treating" in some of the houses in the neighborhood. In one house a monster opened. It made the angel holding my hand look even cuter. Like light that shines even stronger when it's surrounded by darkness.

We were light in another way that night. Trying to light up the dark places of this world and bring out the angels trapped inside. We made gift bags with little treats and bible verses, and then we went with a group of women (who have done this before) to some of the clubs in the city. Not just the ordinary clubs, but clubs where girls aren't treated very well. We went there and gave the bags to the girls working, and talked to them for a while. It scared me that to them it was normal. Nothing strange at all. Just work.

Wednesday night we went to street church again. Some of the guys we met on the streets when we were down friday night came. It was very encouraging to see them respond to our invitation. Hopefully it won't end there.

Thursday night really made me think. We went to a class for young parents. Five mom's, two dad's, and one pregnant girl were there. All under 20 years old. I will never forget that night and the impact these young moms had on me. I don't know all of their stories yet, but I know that none of them have had an easy life. Just like the mom's we meet on the streets. But there is a big difference between the mom's on the streets and these mom's. Facing similar situations they made different decisions. These mom's decided to fight to give their kids the best they can. They are all still in school, some of them are working too, while they take care of their babies. They all have plans and dreams, they all have hope. And they are all proud of their kids. And they will make it.

I wonder what it is that makes the difference. What it is that gives them the strength to rise above their circumstances. Whatever it is, I admire them for what they do.

I've seen a lot these three weeks. A lot of brokenness, a lot of misery, a lot of pain. But this last week something else has captured my eyes. Something that shines through everything else. Hope. God has shown me that there is hope. I really needed that. Too much pain is hard to carry.

Some of the people working on the streets trying to help people have done this for years. Every week they go there, into the darkness and the pain, and fight. They fight for the ones who have stopped fighting for themselves, the ones who can't and the ones who won't. Every week. How do they do it? How can they keep going?

Hope.

The hope of rescuing someone, anyone. The hope that God will bring them from the darkness and into the light.

And it happens. Because there is hope.