The issues surrounding what it is to be a woman itches the back of my mind almost daily. Largely, I ignore that itch, but as my time here in Thailand comes to a close, I’ve been scratching and thinking and trying to draw something out of what I’ve observed about women here in Thailand.
I think about all the little girls in the slums who I play with every day. Even at six and seven, they dance with booty shakes and hip thrusts, arms trailing up legs, the whole mess uncomfortable and inappropriate for ones so young. In their incredibly limited English vocabulary, “sexy” is one word they know.
I think about the women they will grow up to be. I’ve prayed on my knees multiple times this month that they stay in school and get good educations and find stable jobs and break the cycles of poverty and prostitution their community is lost to.
And a couple nights ago, I sat in a room with women from Zion Café, our ministry host that helps girls rebuild their lives after leaving Chiang Mai’s red light district. A few women from my squad sat with the Thai women and we shared the things that have scarred our hearts. We didn’t pray, we didn’t try and tell one another everything would be better, we didn’t try and fix what hurts. Instead, we sat and listened to their stories*.
A story about Buddhist superstition at a woman’s birth. False religion that claimed the conditions around her birth—the day, the hour, her gender, all things she could not have controlled—mark her as forever unlucky. And a village community who believed this so deeply they ostracized her. Even her own parents continually rejected her, sending her away to the city and into the bars.
A story of an abusive husband who devalued her. She was successful, a college graduate, a business woman. On her own, she owned a house and a car. But then, she got married to the wrong man. In the end he took literally everything from her, both physically and emotionally, forcing her into a life of desperation when she no longer believed she deserved the life of success she once had.
A story of physical, mental, and verbal abuse at the hands of bar customers. She didn’t speak of details but she didn’t have to. For years, men continually spoke worthlessness into her life.
A story of a family who cared more for her older brothers than her, casting her out of the home as a teenager. The years following, boyfriends she met working at the bars inflated her with false promises. They let her down again and again and again.
A story unspoken, but tears flowed freely, whispering of pain too deep as they fell to the ground.
As I listened to these women, I had only two thoughts; 1) Why does the world think it’s okay to treat women this way? 2) Jesus loves women so much.
After laying down our hurts, we talked about how we view God now that we are made new in him. Woman after woman talked about how she knows Jesus is with her, holding her hand always. Despite the hurt, He is there for her to lean on, and He will never go away. Jesus loves them and they know this. Their view of Christ continually brought the word “marriage” to my mind.
As a body of believers, we are called the bride of Christ—not the husband or partner or whatever—the bride. News flash, the church body is a woman. The church body is a woman. THE CHURCH BODY IS A WOMAN.
I don’t know what this realization means besides to say Jesus loves women. Through the gospels, he made his love for them incredibly clear through his healings, parables, and conversations centering so often on the faith of women.
All of this isn’t to say Jesus doesn’t love men. I’ve just been thinking, maybe he loves women so much because we were the ones who fell away from God first. Maybe since Satan has been speaking louder to women than men since the beginning of creation, Lord Jesus is forever trying to woo us towards him.
So I listened to my friend’s stories about what happens when the world’s darkness overcomes little girl’s hearts, I found myself deeply moved by the transformative power of Jesus in their lives. Despite the deep wounds this world has left them with, they all stand in confidence of where their story came from. And now, holding Jesus’ hand, where their story is going.
As one of the girls said after the conversation, “So amazing to share my story, speak truth about my life. Thank you God you teach me to overcome! God bring me new life and he never leave me.”
Even as I wrestle with hopelessness here, their strength and their testimonies give me hope. I just pray that my girls from the slums will never have to go through this pain. I pray that they can be transformed now to live with Him in fullness longer.
Jesus loves women, and the world should too.
*Stories have been written with permission of the women, however names and photos have been omitted at their request to protect their privacy
Currently: Editing on a hostel couch, Chiang Mai, Thailand | 2:30 PM | 86% Funded | Like how the moon becomes beautiful when reflecting the sun, I will reflect The Son and beam brighter than the darkness of this world.
