Thank you


A presidential message | Rebecca McDonald

“Our commitment is for the House of WAR to be a sanctuary. In this season, we see a spike in the number of 911 scenarios as winter brings its own dangers to those hiding under a bridge or running for their lives barefoot—or wishing they could. Some stories are messy and still ongoing, and one haunts both my waking and sleeping moments as we continue trying to bring about a resolution. Every life is precious to the WAR family, and we are determined to fight for her.”

Women At Risk, International’s (WAR, Int’l) 911 Rescue Fund is weekly responding to emergency calls of varying urgency from across the nation and globe. At this very moment, vulnerable individuals are seeking out WAR to rescue and make a way for them.

Primary need: When a crisis hits, there’s no time to gather funds. The money is needed right away. WAR, Int’l partners need to make quick decisions when a life is in imminent danger. Only after the intervention can we take the time to recount the details of the rescue (as much as can be safely shared while also respecting confidentiality) and raise funds to replace the expense. We regularly drain this fund which then requires us to bring the balance back up so that rescues are not dependent on finances.

The 911 Rescue Fund allows WAR Int’l and its partners to rush to the aid of those in imminent danger. We have rescued children as young as three weeks, six months, and six years—all tender ages. We’ve rescued women hiding in barns and under bridges. They often need immediate medical care and don’t have papers to go through normal channels. Through our 911 Rescue Fund, they receive immediate assistance including but not limited to shelter, medical care, transport to safety, a dead drop (pickup at an undisclosed location), legal aid, bedding, furniture, set-up in a safe place, moving services when crisis requires moving company or hired help, court appearances, bus passes, cost of maintaining that 911 line, related costs, etc.

Following are powerful and life-altering stories of rescue made possible by your kindness and generosity.

Angel’s Story

The day COVID-19 hit the U.S. in 2020, Rebecca McDonald, founder and president of WAR, Int’l, hid a young woman in her car.

Freedom is costly.

When you help a woman escape exploitation, you see firsthand the devastating loss that comes from fleeing slavery. In leaving behind abuse, women often leave behind everything they’ve ever known. Starting over is exhausting, and is only made worse by navigating the rough waves of trauma and healing. Freedom is not free–it is painfully expensive in a thousand different ways.

Angel had been running barefoot from her traffickers for hours before she secured WAR, Int’l’s number from a national hotline. After she courageously reached out to us, we ran to her aid. Angel was tucked safely away in Becky’s car while we arranged safe housing.

Today, Angel is flourishing. Not only have pro bono lawyers cleared her name of all crimes claimed against her, but she is excelling as a legal secretary, spreading the seeds of justice that were planted in her own life. She has been reunited with her kids. Through your generosity, she has also been provided with a car. Once stereotyped due to riding a bicycle to and from work, Angel now possesses the resources to reflect her inner potential.

Margaret’s Story

Far too often, traffickers aren’t strangers. This was Margaret’s story. Her boyfriend betrayed her, forcing her to sleep with other men in exchange for the drugs that fueled his addiction.

Margaret waited in anguish for an opportunity to escape. Seeing her only chance, she fled while clutching the arm of her teenage daughter. Like so many others, they left with nothing but the clothes on their backs. As the two of them fearfully hid in a hotel, Margaret reached out in faith to WAR, Int’l.

Due to generous contributions to our 911 Rescue Fund, WAR, Int’l was able to respond immediately in Margaret’s hour of need, providing food, clothing, and other basic essentials. We also arranged the transportation that reunited Margaret and her daughter with their family in another city, restoring them to a circle of belonging and protection.

Ramona’s Story

Responding to a call from a federal agency, WAR, Int’l took Ramona shopping for an outfit she could wear to court. Despite unimaginable circumstances and lingering hurt, Ramona had resolved to testify against her traffickers.

We often emphasize how important it is to shed light on the realities of human trafficking and bring perpetrators to justice but forget that it requires real human cost. WAR, Int’l leapt into overdrive to surround Ramona and prepare this courageous survivor to be the key witness against a trafficking ring. Ignoring the attention we attracted by shopping under armed guard, we watched Ramona’s countenance transform from fear to confidence!

Touched by our compassion for her, Ramona whispered, “Why do you care for me when you don’t even know me?”

We at WAR, Int’l love that question! The 911 Rescue Fund allows us to respond, inform, and reach into lives with action. It permits us to be the hands and feet of Jesus. We were honored to be a part of Ramona’s story and are so inspired by her resilience.

The Next Story

Because of your generosity, WAR, Int’l is a sanctuary. Together, we partner in the Lord’s work to bestow beauty instead of ashes.

Our 911 Rescue Fund seeks to be the hands and feet of Christ, showing up for survivors in their hour of need. Empowered by your gifts, there is no need to which WAR, Int’l turns a blind eye.

We hide the hunted, clothe the exposed, and nourish the hungry. To those on the run, we provide rest and respite. The hurting are set on a path to healing and the homeless are embraced. Each woman, man, and child is welcomed and grafted into the WAR family.

Behind each of these initiatives is a story of a survivor who was earnestly pursued and wrapped in compassion.

Your generosity will write the next story. Your Giving Tuesday gift will embolden us to continue to intervene, bringing precious survivors out of darkness and into marvelous light.

Give online here.

Send a check to:
Women At Risk, International
2790 44th St. SW
Wyoming, MI 49519.

(If you write a check, please be sure to note on the memo line that it is for our Giving Tuesday campaign.)

Picking Up the Pieces / Unchained

Pearl is a survivor (and learning to be thriver and joy based) of sexual (and other) abuses throughout her childhood that began while she was still in diapers. She was essentially sex trafficked for several years from the age of 3 or 4 years old and was also forced to participate in child sexually abusive material during that era. Following is her bio in 7 stanzas.


Picking Up the Pieces / Unchained

Staring into darkness, watching shadows fall,
empty heartbeats echo down the dark and endless hall.
Starry dreams are crumbling, crashing quietly to the ground,
only to be trampled on then yearning to be found.

Fractured psyche, broken trust, leaving only fear,
Shredded heart, silent screams, crying without tears.
All the times, all the lies, all the damned illusions –
‘Loving’ people cast my chains with all their damn perversions.

Where’d it start? Who can tell? Does it really matter?
The time has passed, it’s moving on, having left the tatters.
And now’s it’s time to let it go, drop it to the floor;
Do what it takes to stop the bleed, blocking out the core.

So dark descends and night has come to take me in it’s folds,
And deep inside now I know there’s nothing left to hold.
That one way mirror finally cracked, a million tiny pieces
Perhaps in time, a two way mirror may rise from all the pieces.

In time came marriage masquerading as love,
for his dysfunction called to my self-loathing.
And when God’s whisper became greater than the threats,
I let Him lead me out. It was time to mend.

Been picking up the pieces with much hope, tumult and doubt
Just trying to figure out how to make it all count.
Mosaics have beauty when they’re put together right
and Stained glass glows gently if it forgives the night.

Years go by and hell still lingers, imprinted in my mind,
but something greater has displaced its stature and I find,
Faith holds on ‘til Grace declares: “They will NOT win, I prevail”.
Their chains are breaking because I’m learning, I AM worthy. LOVE prevails.

I can’t thank You enough, Lord and Savior Jesus Christ

Is Happiness A Choice?

Author: A Dear Survivor
April 12, 2022


    This, I Believe

Over 10 years ago, NPR had a radio show called “This, I Believe.” This segment focused on written essays from listeners who were stating their stance on something they believed in. It was incredibly inspiring, but it also encouraged listeners to broaden their point of view to hear and understand someone else’s opinion. Below, I’ve written my own “This, I Believe” statement about something that can often be considered controversial:

    Is Happiness a Choice?

Having been a circle of protection to survivors of sexual and physical abuse, human trafficking, and other traumas, I believe happiness is a choice. Persevering against the odds stacked against them, these survivors have risen from the ashes because they chose to invest in their own happiness. One recurring observation I often hear when a survivor publicly shares their story is: “I would’ve never known they were a survivor because they’re just so full of joy!” Every morning, these individuals wake up and are haunted by their horrific pasts. They are faced with the decision of whether they are going to choose to linger in the darkness of their trauma or whether they’re going to choose the warmth of happiness – and by no means is that decision an easy one.

It is incredibly easy for anyone who has endured trauma to any extent to linger in those dark corner shadows where they won’t ever have to face what’s keeping them there. But the choice to be happy? That choice is one of the most difficult ones they have to make on their healing journey. When a person chooses to expose all those dark and scary places, they prove that they’re no longer afraid of what awaits when they open the drapes. It’s like when spring finally comes after a long winter, and they can finally open the windows, let in the fresh air, take a deep, cleansing breath, and allow themselves to begin sweeping up the settled dust and cobwebs.

I personally went through my own healing journey from the years of trauma I endured that resulted in multiple mental health concerns. After one final breakdown, where depression and anxiety left me on the ground, a shattered mess of hopelessness, questioning if I was strong enough to keep going, I realized that I needed to play an active role in my recovery to find true healing. It was no longer enough for me to solely rely on my weekly therapy sessions and my prescription medication. With the help of my therapist, I found it was most beneficial to start every morning making the conscious choice to choose happiness and appreciate the little things around me. I opened my eyes and found joy in the turkeys and deer as they walked through the backyard, in the sunrise over the golden cross that stands glowing high above the Cathedral on my drive to work, and in the sunsets as the burnt orange rays of warmth came streaking through my bedroom window in the summertime. Maybe that’s more of a testament to my personal growth, but similar practices are mirrored in the courageous and strong individuals I’ve had the honor of knowing and loving. Surely, if a survivor of something as horrific as human trafficking, torture, assault, etc., can open their eyes and choose their own happiness every morning, anyone can. This, I believe.

Today, I Wept…


Today I wept…again…as I signed a receipt from an inmate of prison with a history of abusing others. He sends us sacrificial gifts in his journey of recovery. These are not out of “penance” for his brokenness but out of joy that places exist for healing of those like him and for those he harmed long ago. No one was there for him as a little boy to hear his silent scream.

My mommy heart always makes me stop when I see his gifts and take a deep breath. Often little boys and girls who grow up to wound others were wounded by others themselves. I stop and pray for the tiny lives out there needing a loving, listening home. I beg God to place them in my way or another’s to show a gentle touch, a listening ear, a whisper of joy and worth in who they are. I’m so humbled by his precious gifts. Our pain and our brokenness break God’s heart as He loves unconditionally.

Jet-lagged, I woke early this morning to sit in the darkness of my living room and pray for the day. Take these words as a love letter. Mother Teresa said, “I’m a tiny pencil in the hand of a writing God sending a love letter to the world.” I’m no Mother Teresa, but my hope is this: Whether you read this from a cozy chair with your morning cup of tea; from your kitchen overflowing with dirty dishes and a herd of munchkins at your feet; from a lofty, ivory tower imparting knowledge to the world; or just from a bunk bed in a cell staring at four walls, I pray you come to understand that our hidden worries are known, and we’re loved by our Creator, worthy even in our messes and broken places, or from our comfy homes or offices.

The ancient truth which changes individuals and cultures is that we are stronger, more loving, and better able to navigate sorrow or joy when we intentionally choose to be a circle of protection and community of safety to each other. The key is knowing we are all alike whether learning from a prison cell, from our own mistakes, or others’. Humility binds us together. I welcome the gift of the penitent. Help us God to all be penitent, intentional, and in humility, consider others better than ourselves. This lesson comes from “the least of these,” from four walls of a prison cell, and a broken little boy, now a man, who shares sacrificially to heal others in ways he never experienced. God help us learn from him!