Around four in the evening, eight of us, were led down a cement hallway. The hallway had orange paint splattered on the walls with a narrow flight of stairs leading underground. We walked no more than 20 steps and turned into a large room filled with about 8 small cubby holes. The cubby holes were made out of plywood and worn 2×2’s painted with the same orange paint. There were no doors, just cubby after cubby. We found ourselves in the heart of a cabin restaurant. A cabin restaurant is just a fancy word for a brothel. At night, young women usher men in and out of their cubbies. I stood shell-shocked imagining what happens inside these poorly constructed “rooms”. After about 5 minutes, we were all led into the very back “room” where red seat cushions covered the floor with a small coffee table shoved into the corner.
We all piled in, sitting criss-cross on the floor. We were instructed before we went in that we were not allowed to use the words Jesus, God, or prayer out loud… so instead we spelt them out. We all kind of starred at each other while sitting on these dirty cushions, allowing the weight of everything to sink in, praying that God would shine bright in the darkest of areas. We didn’t have to wait long before a young woman, probably around 21, came around the corner. She kneeled at the doorway, and scooted into the crowded room. She had the biggest grin on her face. We quickly learned that she was drunk, and more than likely had drugs in her system.
We ordered Mountain Dew, so that we could “buy” time to spend with Mary (for the sake of her privacy, I changed her name). We learned it was custom for the male client to buy food and drinks, not only for himself but also for the woman. The more money he spent on food and drinks, the longer he had with the young woman. Food and drinks in the cabin restaurants are ridiculously expensive. Our Mountain Dews were 300 rupees apiece, a Mountain Dew on the side of the road or in any other restaurant would go for 50-100 rupees. While Mary was getting our drinks, another lady popped her head around the corner. We will call her, Susan. Susan saw us walking into the cabin restaurant from a few brothels down where she was working. She came as quickly as she could so that she could talk to us.
As we all sat in our dark back room, laughs echoed the empty brothel. We talked about our favorite foods to cook, what we liked to shop for, we asked questions about their families. For about the next hour and a half, we just chatted about normal girl things. As I was sitting there, I whispered “Holy Spirit, You are welcomed here. Come flood this place and fill the atmosphere. All we want is for Your light to shine in this dark place.” As soon as I said amen, I glanced down at my arm and saw this beam of light. I looked around to see where it was coming from, confused because we were underground and the only light we had was a small bulb in the center of the large room. I was looking to see what the bulb was reflecting off of, and as I was looking around the room I saw a small crack in the cement wall that was just above ground level. The beam of light was from the outside, and it was shining right into our little corner room. I couldn’t help but smile because I knew that was God reassuring me that His Presence was there. He was there, in the midst of the darkness.
What a humbling lesson to learn: that my God was present in such an unholy place. But it doesn’t come as a surprise because God promises that in His Scriptures (Deuteronomy 31:8). Just by us being there, the Holy Spirit was present. Even though terrible things happen inside these walls, God was moving. Before we said our goodbyes, Mary wanted to tell us something. She proceeded to share how happy she was simply by us being there. She said, “You guys bring so much joy, and that makes me feel happy inside. When you smile, it makes me smile.”
God was moving that Tuesday afternoon, and I believe that He is still moving in the hearts of Mary and Susan. As we left the cabin restaurant, we hugged each woman’s neck and made our way to the front door. We passed the gentlemen who were in charge, gave them a Jesus smile, and left. Our translator was the last one to leave, and the men stopped her to tell her that we were welcomed back anytime. They, too, saw that we brought a light that was different. In that moment, the Lord just sweetly reminded me that the atmosphere really does change when we walk into a room.
I hope this story encourages you. Encourages you to earnestly pray for those enslaved in human trafficking and prostitution. Because I promise you this, we have been permanently burdened with a heart for these women. I also pray Jesus reminds you like He did me… that we as His children, carry Him around everywhere we go. We are His dwelling place, so when we step into those dark areas in life, we automatically bring Light. Let that encourage you, my friend.
