Adventure and rest days typically look like easy days off. Last month I found that adventure and rest days looks very different to me than most people. After a week of attempting to sleep in a +90° room at night, rest was much-needed. My team and I planned a trip to the closest city, Pattaya. Knowing little of this location, Google informed us on more than we expected. We found out that Pattaya has one of (if not) the busiest red light district in the world and is the capital for sex trafficking.
We planned trips to markets, and visiting places like the Sanctuary of Truth. Sitting and relaxing at the rooftop pool was a nice way to start the evening. As the night went on, there was a swift in the atmosphere.
We made our way to Walking Street (red light district). People on the street acted as if they were getting ready for a college football game. Rowdy young guys taking shots, while old men sat with young Thai girls. The sign above looked like a welcome to a different world. Lights lit the closed down road. The sound of cover bands playing 80’s ballets was almost deafening. People flooded the streets. Go Go Bars on both sides of the street marketed their merchandise by having them stand outside. Young girls barely dressed tried to lure men inside the club. Men walked the street with signs in hand like a menu for sex acts. With each approach, a different offer was made. Standing on the sidewalk, I froze. I saw everything around me. I heard everything around me. I knew where I was yet my mind was somewhere else. I saw people walking around as if this was a circus. Tourist groups pointing out clubs as if the were landmarks. Families walked together in amusement. Girl after girl, I thought “When they leave this street, when they are home, who are they? Do they have a family? Do they carry shame or guilt? Is there enough merit to counter any dismerit each night out? Where is their hope?” The emotion that I felt for each question became a shackle around my soul. I felt nauseous. I felt sorrow. I felt anger. I felt confused.
Numb was the only word to describe how I walked out of the half mile strip of brokenness. As emotions battled for dominance over me, walking back to the hotel alone gave me time to process what I was feeling. Bars full of older men being accompanied by young Thai women was a norm on the streets. Praying over what I saw, what I was feeling, and not knowing what it all meant, only caused more confusion to raise.
The chorus of a song stopped me, and I sat down at the counter of an outside bar. I saw that across each person at the counter, there was a “waitress” on the other side. As my waitress sat down in front of me, there wasn’t a word to be said. Emptiness filled her eyes. The girl behind her had the same look. The girl beside her shared the sorrow.
I said “God, this hurts. What would you have me do?”
I heard God ask back, “What do you want to do?”
I answered, “I want to tell her she is loved, that she’s cared for, that she is worthy, that she’s forgiven for her past and I want her to know you.”
To which God replied, “Than do it.”
I’m not one to question the Lord but the directions were not very clear. I don’t speak Thai. She doesn’t speak English. As I tried to put on a smile, I noticed the girls in front of me staring outside. A cart selling dresses parked in front of them. Looking at the price on the sign and the girls dreaming, I looked at them and ask “Do you want a dress?” Almost embarrassed they admitted they did. “Get up and pick one! It’s on me,” I told them. The only way to tell you their reaction would be to say they looked like kids on Christmas. Through the confusion, joy filled their eyes. The smiles on their face lit the room so bright, the manager came to see why they were shopping. When one waitress explained what was happening, the manager looked pleasantly surprised. She smiled and said thank you and left. The waitresses picked their $3 dress and showed them off. The next ten minutes I sat there in disbelief. The night was full of heaviness and darkness. Yet, in that moment God gave directions and provided a way. I said goodbye, but the way they said bye back wasn’t like towards a customer. The tone was more as a friend saying goodbye. I walked a little taller out of there than when I walked in. Joy filled my heart as I thought about their smiles.
I don’t think $10 ever meant so much to someone as it did to Nam, Pimk, Tak and me that night. I’m sure someone has given them more money in exchange for something more. $10 changed the look of emptiness and brokenness. $10 said, “I don’t want anything from you but for you to be loved.” $10 said, “you are more that a commodity.” $10 said, “you are worthy.” I’d like to think they felt that. I’d like to think that when they see that dress, they remember that one night some man came and cared enough about them to buy them something for nothing in return other than to make them smile.
My squad leader, Kent, once told me “Our interactions are too short. If there is something you will wish you’ve said, say it. It might be the only opportunity you get.” This has changed how I am doing this race. The great thing is, people are receptive to boldness. People want openness. I challenge you to try to speak from the heart and say hard things and love in ways that wouldn’t make sense because that’s the ways Jesus did.
