How SHE changed me

.HOPE.

 
My heart pounds
harder with each step I take, the air definitely has a different smell and feel
to it. Breathing becomes more difficult. My eyes confirm what my spirit feels.
It’s real, no longer a documentary or a 5 minute news blip before commercials,
or even something you read about in a book or attend a forum on. I swallow
hard, realizing that what the Lord told me before I walked down Bangla Road
couldn’t have been more appropriate. “You are my hands and feet. Don’t worry
about protection, I’ve got you. Don’t worry about words, I’ve got you.  Just
minister my love.“

 Rewind a bit. My
family is very near and dear to me. I would do just about anything for them. Anytime.
No questions asked. But, my heart breaks even more for some of my brothers and
sisters who seem to be trapped under the same lies that the people I see
walking down Bangla Road believe. Addicted to selling their bodies, addicted to
the feelings that come from purchasing this sick destructive ‘pleasure.’ I have
struggled for so long as to what my role as a sister to them is. How can I help
‘fix’ the problem, how can I reach them and minister to them?

 Fast forward. The
day before I got to Phuket, the Lord started to teach me about Christ Jesus
being the mediator of our faith. A mediator is the link to both sides. Because
of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, He is the link. The mediator. The peace, the
HOPE. Hope instills boldness (2 Cor. 3:12); hope requires patience (Ps. 39:7);
as hope increases, praises increase (Ps. 71:13); our hope is living (1 Pt.
1:3); the mystery is solved: Christ in me the hope of glory (Col. 1:27). I am a
minister of love. I am a minister of hope through Christ Jesus. Satan loves for
me to think that my hands are tied and there is nothing I can do. I can pray. I
can claim hope and love and peace. 

 ~Oh Lord Jesus,
You have given me Kingdom eyes, help me to see and look through them.~  I walk in a bar and meet a girl about my age.
We chat for a bit, and I begin to ask her about her family. I ask her about her
dreams. We talk about that for a while. I go back the next night, and the next
and the next. Each night brimming with love and compassion. You see, God has
given me Kingdom eyes, so amongst the dark filth and lies, and deception of
false intimacy, there is love. There is hope. I realize that it’s not a ‘role’
I have to fill; it’s not a problem I have to fix. I have to love, no, I get to
love. I get to hope. I claim hope. I walk in hope. Hope is living. Even when
abuse and darkness and death looks like it prevails, Bangla Road is a road of
hope.

 Being apart of
SHE (Self Help and Empower) has let me see the spectrum of growth from
relationship building in the bars, to seeing girls choose to get out of it and
start to reach their dreams by earning money through SHE’s jewelry making
business and return to their children and homes in northern Thailand. One gal
just started a Discipleship Training School with YWAM. Since we have been here,
three ladies have chosen to accept Christ, and one of the girls I visited at
the bars is considering joining SHE. This is the life of hope. This is the life
of not letting go to the promises Christ has given us in His word.

 

“For
in this HOPE (redemption) we were saved.
Now HOPE that is seen
is not HOPE.
For
who HOPES for what he sees?
But
if we HOPE for what we do not see,
We
wait for it with patience.”
Hebrews
8:24&25