if my heart could scream (from Tiffany Berkowitz)

Tiffany
Berkowitz is there now with the World Race.

Here is her latest blog:

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if my heart could scream


The variety of Thai spices that fill the air around me are enough to draw a wide smile across my face all on their own. Rubbing up against the crowd of Farangs (foreigners) and Thai people as we make our way through the bustling marketplace brings about an energy that can only be compared to the friction that a balloon creates when it’s rubbed against a little girls head. Her hair stands up to salute the static energy just like our heads perk up to soak in every moment of what is going on around us. I hear tiny women calling out Sawasdee Kha! ushering us in to look at their brilliantly hand-woven scarves as we pass by their shops. We are met with smile after smile, and appropriately so, as Thailand is commonly referred to as
“The Land of Smiles”.

The blind performers make the street their stage every few hundred feet or so. They are propped up on their knees with their microphones, guitars, and various traditional Thai instruments as their hats lay out in front of them to collect the spare change of the parted Red Sea of eager shoppers. I’m not sure what their stories are, but I know that there is more than what we see. I know that they’ve endured things unheard of. Sometimes I wonder what they are thinking. I wonder what they are feeling as they can hear the bustling tourists around them. I wonder if they can feel the curious, and sometimes judgmental stares. I wonder if they feel alone in the midst of thousands of people. I wonder who they answer to at the end of the night.  Especially the little girls.

The beautiful women on the side of the street keep their little ones close as they hold their hands above their heads in reverence to those that rank higher than them on the social scale. Something still doesn’t sit right with me when a woman pays respect to me as I walk by just because I have a roof over my head and she doesn’t… I know it’s Thai culture, but I just want to scream. You are captivating! You have worth! You are the daughter of a KING! Don’t you understand? You are royalty! Instead, I smile gently and give a faint Sawasdee Kha as I walk by slowly. I wonder if her arms ever get tired as she holds them above her head throughout the night in reverence to those who are worth something, all the while reminding herself that she is nothing, that she is no one. I wonder if anyone sees her crying at night, and I wonder if she’s ever encountered the love of God. I want so desperately to bring her a God-encounter, but sometimes I’m left groping around in the dark for an answer to her hurt, and can’t seem to find the light switch.

The vibrant orange robes float around the city, and sometimes it takes everything in me to not go running after one of them and embrace them with all of the joy that is in me. Yeah, I really want to hug a monk. The only thing keeping me from doing it is the fact that they have to do cleansing rituals if they touch a woman. (Maybe that’s part of why I want to hug one so bad…)
I walk through their temples covered in gold and laced with every colored gem you can imagine and I am in awe of the intricacies displayed before me. It’s like a theme park for kids with A.D.D.– sparkly things everywhere. The artwork in the temples is truly stunning. I look up at Buddha and I wonder what he is thinking. But then I remember that he is, in fact, dead. I then wonder about each of the little men in orange robes sitting before this elaborate display of false glory. I wonder if they ever desire something more. I wonder if they’re satisfied. I wonder about their stories, and I want them to meet my Jesus. I want them to know a relationship more beautiful than any temple they’ve seen. I want them to understand that THEY are the dwelling place of a living God. Most of the time though, I am at a loss for words.

For about 12 dollars, I could purchase my favorite Starbucks drink and a delicious pastry to go along with it, or I could pay for an entire night with a Thai woman.
Lining the streets are petite, beautiful women and gorgeous Lady-boys holding signs for the “specials” they have going on that night. I make extra effort to smile at each one of them as the women smile back bashfully and the Lady-boys wave flamboyantly.
I am intentional about seeking eye contact with the American and European men that walk by, but their heads are hung so low or they are so fixated on the eye-candy before them, it’s almost like our line of vision is blocked by opposing magnets. They rarely look at white girls. I wonder if it is because they are full of shame. I wonder if they even care. I am so full of anger. God always reminds me that they are hurting, broken, and in bondage. I wonder what brought them here. I wonder if they’re satisfied. I know they’re not, but how do I tell a man that is seeking pleasure that “God loves you”… it just seems to lose its luster when I’m face-to-face with a drunk guy from California that’s just looking for a good time.
And the women… my heart stops beating when I think about them. I remind myself to look for the light in the midst of the darkness, but the darkness that they face is so much thicker than anything I’ve ever known before. How do I love them when I have no idea what they endure day in and day out?

This world is broken.
My heart shatters at the sound of a mothers plea for food for her starving child. It crumbles when I glance at the 12 year old girl sitting on the side of the street alone with fear in her eyes because she knows very well what tonight has in store for her. It weeps with the heart of God.
Sometimes, all I can do is sit in my heavenly father’s lap and weep.

Emmi grew up in a village in Thailand. Little girls in these villages are at high-risk for sex trafficking. Men come in and purchase them from their families, promising them that their daughters will have a job and bring money back. So when she was born, her family believed she brought a curse upon them because she was not a boy. When she was a young child, her father walked in on her mother conversing with another man in their living room, he acted without a second thought, and beheaded Emmi’s mother before her little eyes. He was soon approached by his mother-in-law who informed him that the man was a cousin that had come to visit, and that he had made a tragic mistake, to say the least. He turned himself in and spent years in prison. Emmi was sent to an orphanage, and soon after, watched her best friend die of AIDS because she had been sold as a sex slave as a child. After years of bitterness, the Lord touched her heart, and she was able to extend miraculous grace and forgiveness to her father.


Now, Emmi runs Lighthouse Ministries in Chiang Mai. This place is a beacon of light in the midst of the darkness. It is hope in the land of hopelessness. It is a land of peace, a place of redemption. Stories like Emmi’s, and places like Lighthouse and Wongen Kafe… are the things that we have to cling to. There is light here. There is hope here.


Thailand celebrates Loi Krathong – Festival of Lights – while we are here. I know it means something very different to them, but I believe that it’s not far off from what God is truly doing. It is traditionally a time when Thais give thanks, forgive grievances and pray for good luck. They send lights down the river, and release them up into the sky. It’s really quite beautiful. That’s what we came here to do, too. We have come to thank the Lord for what He is already doing here, and to delight in the beauty of His victory over darkness. We have come to weep and pray for forgiveness for the ways that we have allowed the darkness to run rampant. We have come to bring light, to release hope. The presence of God dwells in us. THAT is hope.


All is not lost, but we have to do something. You have to do something. We… no… YOU do not have enough time to waste. You are loved by the King of the universe. Let that be your motivation to be love to those who have never known it before. Let that be your drive in loving those that are difficult to love. That is where the hope lies. What is the story of the man that sits outside of that one gas station every day? Do you know? What about the single mom in the apartment next door? Have you even spoken to her other than that time that her car was parked in your spot? What about your mother? Your father?
Wake up.



This picture rocked me
because it reminds me of so much of the body of Christ.
Please, wake up!


You’re loved. BE love!
That’s the hope that we have.
If you have the presence of God dwelling inside of you,
YOU ARE THE ANSWER.
You are fully loved.
Stop living in fear and in lies and
BE love to those who so desperately need to know they are loved.

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