Adventures WorldRace SethBarnes Sponsorship Giving

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The first time I saw a man buy a prostitute, his elderly body pressed tightly against her young, attractive one, was on a street in Bangkok.

She was laughing as he leaned in close, whispering to her. I wanted to rip him off her, stand between them to protect her, and kick him as hard as I could in the groin. Instead, I turned away, raging at him, the bar owner, the Thai government, and myself for doing nothing.

A few days later I arrived in Pattaya, the capital for prostitution and sex trafficking in Thailand.

That evening, we walked down a minor side street, quiet in the early evening. We went into two bars, spending time in conversation with the women, painting their nails and praying for them. We watched the men, their hands clasped protectively over the women, asserting their ownership over them. Every time I saw a western man with an Asian woman, I shook  in anger, outrage, and disbelief.

I realized the next morning during my reading in John 8 how misplaced my anger was at the men. It’s the story of the woman caught in adultery, thrown at the feet of Jesus and condemned to die by the religious elite. And Jesus merely knelt in the dirt, writing unknown words, pausing until he uttered words that hit my heart two thousand years later:

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”

I am not without sin. Furthermore, I am not without this sin. No, I have never bought a prostitute, have never paid for sex with a stranger. But I’ve knelt at the idol of sex and physical pleasure, believing it would satisfy me and fulfill some kind of unnamed longing in my heart. My body has been united with someone to whom I was not married.

I cannot walk down the street in condemnation and judgment of these men. I cannot cast the first stone.

The last night in Pattaya we went to Walking Street, the main drag in the city where women are flaunted, paraded, and purchased. The women called with smiles bright and hands beckoning. Their scantily clad bodies leaned over the bar or danced to the loud, thumping music that poured out of doorways beneath the brightly lit neon signs advertising dancing, alcohol and sex.

We went with a purpose: to worship and pray, to bring the power of Jesus to the darkness that keeps this street in its grasp. Some of my girls sang Christmas carols and worship songs in front of a restaurant. Others of us walked the street in prayer and intercession.

As we walked, my heart broke for the men I saw. I realized how deep their darkness is that they would buy women, use them, and discard them the next morning. I realized that they, just as much as the women, needed to know they were loved, noticed, and seen.

So Sha’terika and I bought five white roses. As we prayed that night, we asked the Lord to show us who to give them to and slowly, one by one, we handed them over.

To the man sitting hunched over a drink at a table. To the one sitting in a chair and watching women with a practiced eye. To the one trying to push the menus of sexual pleasures into the hands of passer-bys.

With each rose, we gave them a smile and a “Merry Christmas.”

We worshiped the Lord who created each of these men, giving thanks that they, too, are made in the image of God.

I prayed that these small tokens would startle them, tokens of love unconnected to sex.   

The Lord began to ask me to pray not for judgment, but for mercy. After all, if the drunken man with his arm wrapped tightly around the girl of only 12 or 13 doesn’t need mercy and grace then who does?

We finished up our time on Walking Street that evening by singing these eternal words:

“Joy to the world, the Lord has come.

Let Earth receive her King.

Let every heart prepare Him room.

And Heaven and Earth rejoice,

and Heaven and Earth rejoice,

and Heaven and Heaven and Earth rejoice!”

We left that bleak corner of the world rejoicing, because I believe that the Lord is working on Walking Street. I believe that our presence there caused a disturbance in the spiritual atmosphere, bringing light into darkness, even if tomorrow night comes and the women still stand under the flashing neon lights to beckon customers closer.

The enemy cannot steal my joy in the midst of darkness. If anything, I will worship Him even more because, after all, worship is warfare.

Want to get more involved with the fight against human trafficking? Check out these organizations and pray about what you can do to see child prostitution and sexual exploitation end!