What I’m about to describe is not something I wanted to share (Again. That makes two blogs in a row). To be honest, I don’t even want to remember it, in some ways. I don’t entirely love the fact that I’m sharing this. As I write, I’m still on the fence on whether I’ve actually got the guts to post it. If you’re reading this then I guess I did.
The past few days, my squad and I had the amazing opportunity to spend some time at an Awakening, a meeting with three other World Race squads, who are also in Thailand this month. It was a great time of encouragement, community, and pouring into one another.
One of the activities we did was simply getting together with some people we didn’t know, hitting the streets of Chiang Mai, and sharing the love of Jesus however the opportunity appeared. It’s the sort of thing I used to dread, and while I’m still not great at it, I look forward to it now.
In an interesting turn of events, our Awakening happened at the same time as Songkran, a Thai water festival. For three days, people line the streets, holding knockoff Super Soakers, buckets, and hoses, waiting to absolutely drench anyone who comes into range.
So my new friends from the other World Race squads and I were walking around, looking for someone to talk with, pray with, or whatever God led us to do. It was a bit of a difficult task, because everyone else was focused on soaking every square millimeter of our bodies. We had no weapons to defend ourselves or retaliate, so we just embraced it. Once you’re already dripping, a little more water doesn’t hurt anything.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman running toward me with a bucket. I stopped to accept the inevitable shower. But this was no ordinary dousing.
There’s no easy or delicate way to describe this. She dumped her bucket down my chest, and as she did, I vaguely noticed she was fairly scantly clothed. Then in a blur too fast for me to react, she was groping and grasping around an area of my body that nobody should be touching.
I jerked away. Resumed walking. A million thoughts spun through my head. I can’t even pinpoint a first reaction with my thoughts racing so fast. I felt sickened. Disgusted. Violated. Gross. Dirty. Awkward and uncomfortable. Things had spun out of control so fast. I felt embarrassed that these new friends of mine had seen this happen. I felt awful that this woman felt she needed to do that. That she thought I would want her to do that. I felt angry that she would treat me with such disregard. I felt mad that she would disrespect me that way.
As I continued walking away though, the anger began to subside, and I just felt sad. And I was sad about the way I had been treated, but really, I was more sad for her. Sad that the enemy has so completely demeaned her and deceived her. I realized that she likely didn’t choose that sort of life. She’s probably just a woman trying to provide for herself, and maybe a family, by the means she has available. Or maybe she’s not offered any choice at all.
Now, let me be honest. This was a fairly small incident in the grand scheme of things, but it definitely shook me. I’m not going to pretend that I understand everything that people in the sex trade think and feel because of this one occurrence. I don’t and I can’t. But I did catch one brief, terrifying glimpse into their daily existence. I’ve gotten a glimpse of how it feels to lose control. To feel dirty and disregarded. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. God has taken the compassion I already had for these people, and made it way more personal.
This woman doesn’t need my disgust, or my anger. I’m more firmly convinced than ever that she needs to know that she’s loved and valued by a compassionate God who sees her and cares for her. A God who could care less about her appearance, but sees into her heart. A God who can heal her wounds and give her real hope. A God who can bring her life back under control and wants her to know that she is His precious beloved daughter. And within a couple of minutes, I was praying that she would come to know these truths.
In no way am I glad that this situation happened. I hate it. I hated everything about it. But it’s amazing how God can take a bad situation, and use it to teach me. I have a new perspective now. God has started to show me how to see people like this woman through His eyes. Not as objects of derision, but as beloved daughters of the King. I pray that they will recognize this truth, and that someday, I can run into this woman under far better circumstances in eternity.
Edit: Just an end note, I want to emphasize a few things. First off, just know I’m fine. Honestly I am, so please don’t worry about that. Second, I’m not fishing for sympathy, so please don’t feel like you have to offer it. This story is about how God used an unfortunate event (and an unfortunately common event at that) to change my view of the people around me. I appreciate your understanding.
