Does Anybody Hear Her?
It’s barely 8am as I sit at a corner cafe from a bar street in Thailand, a sex trade hot spot if you will. Across the street I watch ladyboys after a long night still in stilettos of some kind walking the streets. Monks with umbrellas shielding their heads, stroll by, after receiving from their people, food for the day’s need. Young girls too, still dressed from the night’s events. No sign of the grandpas who assaulted them. No sign of the tourist who chose to masterbate inside of her. And no sign of his wife. Thailand is just waking up, but a precious part never went to sleep.
It feels as if I’m on the outside of that yellow tape boxing out the scene of a crime, signifying that an investigation is taking place, only it’s as if nobody finds this case urgent. Instead, that song that elicits tears with every listen, still plays in my head. “Does Anybody Hear Her?”
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?
Or does anybody even knows she’s going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that’s tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?
It was our first night ministering in the bars. Setting our agendas aside, our desire was to walk in faith. We trusted, “Holy Spirit have your way in me.” Coming to the end of a prayer walk, engaged in the practice of listening prayer, one teammate thought it wise to pause and pray together. As we prayed one teammate got red in her mind, and God told me that we would be led or ushered in and just KNOW. The whole time I was reciting the scripture claiming, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see,” praying for His eyes to see need.
Making it to the other side of the street and beginning to walk again, the first person we encountered was selling red roses. Not thinking much of it, but smiling that God you’re up to something kind of smile, we walked on. It wasn’t long after, that a woman stood in our way. We’ll call her Rosie. How dare Rosie with her smile and frantic hands motion us in, but wait wasn’t that what we asked for? We walked in standing in awe as I made a comment about the red walls, and another sister of mine noticed the roses serving the role of centerpiece. It was then that we knew we would be dining at God’s table in a red-light district of Thailand.
Never losing her excitement for our presence, she began to take our order when another called out in the distance, “She can’t speak. She can’t hear you.” She did so in that hurried manner as if to say, DISMISS her she doesn’t matter. What she didn’t know is that not only had my sisters and I realized she was deaf, but that my knowledge in Signed English was flooding back, and I was already engaged in conversation with her.
We placed our order, and she took note that we didn’t order any alcohol, immediately assuming we must be Christians. She signed Jesus and I said, “YES!” It was clear that she was Buddhist, but she trusted the love of Jesus in us, a love she couldn’t understand.
I learned a bit of her story as she told me that she lives far away but now she stays in a room above the bar. She was no longer married, a story all too familiar. He left her.
That’s when he walked in. That hero in the song.
She is searching
For a hero to ride in
To ride in and save the day
And in walks her prince charming
And he knows just what to say
Momentary lapse of reason
And she gives herself away
Only it didn’t happen on my watch. I had to choose to leave and let it happen hours later. He walked in and her face lit up. She ran over and gave him a hug. She signed that he was her friend, but later let me know that her bank was running out of money. He would solve all of her problems. She would give herself away. He continued to drink and appeared irritated, but didn’t act on it as we were laughing and enjoying each other.
Out of nowhere Rosie asked me to read her the Bible. I wasn’t about to just whip out a book of such power in the middle of a Buddhist nation. Being reminded that God had already equipped the called, I didn’t have to take it out, but call it out instead. I began to sign 1 John 4:16 to her. She smiled as if someone had just inflated her lungs, taking in the sweet fragrance of such love that can’t be bought. I shared with her about believing in her heart and confessing with her mouth that Jesus is Lord. She and I continued our conversation and using Google Chat, I later typed a portion of that truth and asked her, “Do you believe you belong to God?” She lit up and gave me a HUGE hug signing, “Yes!” And just to be sure I understood that she understood whose she was, she wrote, “Ok I understand.” She was beginning to understand the love of The Father.
God could’t take his eyes off of him, as his eyes were stuck like glue on her. You see, he loves that man pacing by the bar. He knows his story and loves him still. He’s seen him fall, and celebrated the special moments in his life. He sees his heart, always knowing when he sits and when he stands. He can’t take his eyes off of him.
I on the other hand was lovingly praying for a wake up call that could drive him out of the bar. Jesus drove out all who were buying and selling in the temple and He could do it again. (And the next night He would) But this night, still he stayed. I pray for him, but it breaks my heart that he had to be the hero to ride in, because Rosie’s money problems remained.
As I learned more of Rosie’s story, a young woman, appearing the age of 15 walked in. I learned she was 32 with a son at home. Her arms full of toys to sell, would soon be emptied by the heart of my friend’s generosity. She too, was deaf. We learned that she is a Christian, and through conversation we were invited to a Christian Deaf Camp to pray for the children. We would later invite her to eat at Zion for breakfast, welcoming she and her husband, along with their friends.
As if one warrior to stand by our side wasn’t enough, God sent in another, and she too was selling something. We bought her bracelets telling her we will use them to remind us to pray for Chiang Mai.
Before I headed out for bar ministry I had told God that I would buy all the flowers from the first little girl I saw, if it was late enough that her arms wouldn’t be filled up again, knowing the current curfew for night life in Thailand. In His kindness He wouldn’t allow my eyes to seek her out, but instead sent her to my table where my friends and I sat at the edge of innocence. We’ll call her Precious because that’s what she is in His sight. Precious climbed up in my lap and I had her giggling so much before paying for the flowers. She needed to come first. This was not about a transaction, to get a little girl temporarily off the streets. I wanted her to feel like a child and be one for a moment. Noticing her eyeing and then touching the toys my friend had bought, I mentioned God already providing an opportunity to bless and she agreed, seeing it too. Precious in pink would be asked to leave, because she chose to come into a bar under age, and we would pray her destination was home, but all of us knew her pimp, her bar mom like figure was lurking just around the corner watching her on this momentary playground.
Looking back at this night I just smile at His faithfulness and sense of humor. We were exactly where we were meant to be. It was no accident that I ended up speaking to two women in a language I began learning at the time He won his relentless pursuit of me and I began following Him. I was only 18, and God already knew how much I would need this communication tool. He probably laughed. Not only that, but there are so many dialects of Signed English that there is no reason Rosie and I should have been able to understand each other. He made sure of it. My baht was ready for the first little girl I saw, but the truth is He never took His eyes off of her. That question in the song, fully answered with just one word. “Does Anybody Hear Her?” JESUS
A poem I once wrote reads, “More than an object, more like a gift; a diamond in waiting that has but one fit.” When I read this to just one rescued from living this life, it was this line that caused her to say, “Wow that’s me!” So I pray, ‘Healer heal”.
During high season here in Thailand the number of men, women, and children prostituted rises from 5,000 to 25,000. For 400 baht ($11 US dollars) a man can do as he pleases right there in the bar, but she’s worth 1,000 to 2,000 baht ($55) per hour, if, “Lady how much you come with me?” works to his favor. Women in open bars choose to work there, seeing no other option to provide for families. Closed doors often indicate young women being trafficked. Most children you find in the red-light district come from nearby slums. In a nation of honor and shame baby girls have a debt to pay their parents for giving them life, so what better way to brin honor than the hope of large sums of money.
Pimps sell women, bar moms use them to make a profit, confused little boys or ladyboys dress up taking on a woman’s persona…and Jon’s ride in to show them a good time, selfishly satisfying their immediate pleasures for a price. Much like my time acquiring terminology in the correctional system, I never imagined this would be my life. I love and pray for all of the above, as I was never hired to hate. That position was filled in Genesis. I’d ask the same of you, as you take in the weight of this truth. If you are moved to anger, visit it, but don’t live there. Coercion and DECEPTION are the driving forces behind this industry, but if you claim Jesus as Lord you already know that deception has a name. So I ask you again, “Does anybody hear her?”
She is running
A hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction
If you are moved to partner with somebody else who has heard their cries, change a story, and bless yourself as you visit Light House In Action
