An Unexpected Freedom.

Carly, Bridget and I spent the bulk of our bar ministry at “Freedom Bar” this month. We really felt God calling us there, assuring us that the name of the bar was prophetic–that we would see freedom before we left Thailand. The first night out, we fell in love with the girls that work there–five, in particular. These woman were sweet, kind, loving and open with us. The first ten minutes with these women confirmed for us that we’d be going back there every night we went out. And we did. After a few visits, a friendly routine developed: the girls would see us walking down the street; they’d grab a spite and the table games (connect four, 1-9, jenga) and set them on the table for us without having to ask. We were always greeted with hugs, kisses on the cheek, and big smiles. About two weeks into the month, we were invited to the girls’ house (they all share a house together) to taste some home-cooked Thai food. Our hearts melted: they were finally our friends. They wanted to spend time with us. They wanted us in their home, eating a meal with them. They wanted to serve us. They wanted to see us during the day, outside of the bar. Praise God! We eagerly accepted their kind invitation.

That same weeked, we took a bus to their house and spent a Sunday afteroon with them. We arrived around 1:00pm–this is remarkable. These women work in the bar until 3 or 4am (sleep schedule determined by number of customers), so for them to wake up before 1pm to cook for us was a true act of kindness. In less than thirty minutes, they managed to cook over six different Thai dishes for us to eat! It was fun to watch them prepare and cook the food. They didn’t let us help with much, and they seemed excited and eager to serve us. It was a little uncomfortble to be served by the women we were expecting to serve, but we learned to just be thankful for the time spent together.

As they were cooking, we looked over and on the floor, sitting beside our bags, were three bottles of sprite. Our hearts shattered into a million pieces: they bought us sprite. (Note: when we go to the bars at night, we only order sprite, as it’s the cheapest thing on the menu, and we’re required to purchase drinks in order to stay and talk with the girls). At this point, we’d already drank enough soda this month to last us a lifetime…and yet…there they were, three more bottles of it. Our hearts didn’t break because we had do down more pop. Our hearts broke because they remembered that were were different. They remembered that we didn’t drink alcohol with them, or order shots for them to take, like their typical customers do. They counted us as different, and they honored us by remembering that.

     The remainder of the month was spent in the same manner–going to Freedom Bar and loving on the girls the only way we knew how: by sharing the love God has graciously lavished on us. On our last night out at the bars, we met up as a team and prayed. We asked God for the strength and selflessness to completely empty ourselves out at freedom bar. We asked for the ability to give every last ounce of love and affection we had to our girls, in hopes that that night would be the night they walk away from Freedom Bar, into true freedom. When we were done praying, we strapped on our armor (Galatians 6!) and headed for the bar, completely unaware of what we were about to find out.

      Walking up to our bar, we didn’t see any of our girls. We asked the bartender where they were. It was then that we learned that our girls had been bought by customers for five days, and that they wouldn’t be back until the new year started–And what’s worse, they were purchased on Christmas morning. We weren’t going to get to say goodbye. We were devastated. How could God allow this to happen? Why do our girls, our FRIENDS, sell their bodies? Why hasn’t the truth sunk in yet–that they have ALREADY BEEN BOUGHT. By JESUS!!! We didn’t know what to do. Hatred, anger, grief, pitty, compassion, and sorrow swept over us like a tidal wave. We went back to our meeting place (The Starbucks at the end of the street) and we did the only thing we could: we prayed. We cried out to God. We spoke scripture. We fought for our sisters. And we allowed God to break the very last few pieces of us that somehow managed to make it through the month untouched.