This may be the most difficult thing I've had to write so far. I've typed and erased every version of this story. Looking back, it's probably because this should have been posted a month ago, and i find myself backtracking. To be honest, i don't want to write this because i have so much more that i want to say. But I feel it necessary to explain the bar scene before i go into the individual stories. So this is my attempt.
If you didn't catch on, we were in the bars this month in Thailand. But not just your regular bars that you would park in the parking lot and get drunk with your buddies. Our team was in the Red Light District of Chiang Mai. If you don't know what that means exactly, that's okay. I don't either. But i can tell you that for our team, the red lights represent a large concentration of prostitution in one area. We were blessed with the opportunity to literally just follow the voice of Holy Spirit wherever we felt led.
During the day, the Red Light District rests peacefully and to the untrained eye, might look like a shut down alley. But I know her now as a woman dressed in deception from head to toe. Any man or woman who runs into her unexpectedly would find themselves entranced and distracted by her irresistible lullaby. This was some of our experience:
First night. We walked into this night with great prayer. We knew what we were facing; we knew what we might see. As we walked together, we split off into two's with instructions to just walk around and pray.
"Turn left at the boxing sign, and you'll be in."
So we did. With one left turn, you walk right into her arms.
A line of around 12 bars on each side and a boxing ring full ahead, we walked in. If you look to your left, there are women attempting to seduce you into their bar. Look to your right, smiles and dancing. Look a few bars ahead, and you'll notice that you've already been spotted by the entire strip as they wait for you to make your way down the line. As you walk, the sea of beautiful women close in over top of you. Some of them may softly grab your arm and pull you this way, other not so softly. Some women, may kiss at you and lure you with a finger in the other direction. Some women may "accidently" run into you or kick you and some may just shout at you from their table. It's up to you. Stop or push through.
All the while this is happening, there is loud music pumping from the stereo of each bar. The bass fills your ears to the brim so that the women speaking make a muffled squeak rather than the broken English you know she is trying to say. The lights pull your eyes in every direction, along with all of the other sounds. You hear fun and laughter all around you, but it's like you can't find where it's coming from. There's so much to see that you can't help but look around with your bottom jaw slightly drooping.
After rejecting the women throwing themselves at you, the pulse of the bars push you into the clear near the boxing ring. Immediately you are confused by the woman coming towards you. So made up with clothes clinging to every part of her little body. She invites you in, and smiles no matter what answer she might receive. This repeats itself, and repeats itself until you find yourself pushed to the outside.
Finally you can catch your thoughts. It's as if you were pumped through the area like a digested piece of food. We tried to collect what had just happened and we headed home.
When we got home, we debriefed our situation.
I felt gross. We were there to just look around and pray, but to be honest, I forgot. All i could say was Jesus' name, but my heart and my head were distracted by everything that i saw.
That place, in every sense of the word was created to deceive you and distract you from reality. It's like when you watch a movie, and when it's over you walk out and realize you're in the theater and it's still light outside.
Every sense that you have is challenged by the enemy. Masked in lies.
Your ears hear seas of laughter and fun music. But that is only drowning out the quiet conversations. The miserable girl who wants to leave the bar. The man debating whether or not to make the decision that could end his marriage and ruin his family waiting for him back at home.
Your skin feels a gentle and seductive pull from a woman. But it doesn't feel her heart becoming more and more calloused with every client. It doesn't feel her pillow wet with tears, because she feels used. You can't feel the price tag that's been put on her body as she rapidly loses the ability to see herself as a person.
Your eyes see happy women. Probably the biggest lie. They see women that are there by choice. Your eyes might even try to fool you to see women that like what they do. Your eyes see nothing but masks. People literally hiding under the cover of darkness and layers of make-up. Surgeries and pills. Starving bellies and broken hearts. Parents that didn't care. Parents that beat them. Parents that may have started them in this lifestyle at an early age. An endless rotation of consumers that come to use and fill their own emptiness. Seas of lonely men blinded by their own brokenness. No one is to blame but the enemy.
I remember going home and hearing the heart of my world race family and what they saw. We all talked about the deception we saw. But my one sister said something that really put it into perspective. She was talking about how the enemy attacked her in the bars. Even though she thought she had defeated feelings of inadequacy, walking through the bars she felt ugly. Ugly enough that she felt like she had to keep her head down, and to not even look them in the eye. These women looked so beautiful. Three sizes smaller and perfected to a T, she couldn't compare to their beauty. So she stopped, prayed with her partner, and walked back through a second time. This time as she walked, she looked at them. She looked into their eyes. She saw THEM and not their masks. The group of women that she was referring to the first time actually turned out to be a group of men. Ladyboys (Who i will write more about later). But she was so blinded the first time, that the enemy used men that looked like women to make her feel ugly.
So this is the bar scene. It wasn't this intense every time, but just being there, we had to fight so much. We had to be reminded of the truth in the situation and God provided that. It was not light, and it was not fun. But in the same breath, God carried our burden and gave us joy. I know that Jesus would have been there. His heart would have broken, and he would have called out the lies. He cares so much. Prostitutes, ladyboys, western men, and missionaries. He shows no favoritism. He is good.
Many more stories to come!!
