when statistics meet faces

May 3, 2010.

Phnom Penh, Cambodia. It’s hot here. I
think it’s hotter than Texas. Not as hot as Houston, because I
sometimes wonder if houston would give hell a run for it’s money
heat-wise,but it’s still hot. It is like
banana-stand-with-no-A/C-and-four-crockpots-on-high-hot here.

 “Did you just shower?”

“No I just walked up a flight of
stairs.” 

laughter.

“No. seriously.”

“……. that’s….. gross.”

“Yeah.”

We’ve been in Phnom Penh for a few
days. The past two days, we’ve been working with children who are
labeled ‘at-risk’ of being trafficked. We’ve done home visits,
cleaned lice out of their hair, shared the gospel, taught english and
played what I like to call ‘chaos’- a game that begins with thirty
children, numerous balls, lots of noise, and no rules, and ends with
laughter, bruises, and hopefully no broken bones.

What has touched me the most about
these past two days is how sweet the children are. They are
affectionate and eager to learn. They love to laugh and hug and play
and dance and sing. I’ve loved being with them.

Towards the end of the day, I was
writing different words on the whiteboard with Kluy, a boy that I am
especially fond of. He wrote “I love you” on the board. I smiled
and gave him a little side hug. He’s such a sweet, affectionate kid. As  we were doodling, I began to pray
for him. I prayed for provision and protection. I prayed that he
wouldn’t be trafficked. While praying, tears filled my eyes: tears of
sadness that turned into fury.

Human trafficking is a big deal. There
is an estimated 27 million people enslaved. When I first heard about
it, I was shocked that it existed. How could people enslave other
people? How could grown men rape children? How could this be
happening and I had never heard of it?

I lead a prayer hour for human
trafficking back home. We met once a week to pray for different
countries and different people. I would research the country to find
specific areas that we needed to pray for. It was hard. We would cry
for these people that were so far away. But, they were far away.
Statistics that were horrifying and sad, but, in the end, just
numbers.

Today, those statistics met faces.

It became real to me today. As I looked
into Kluy’s smiling face, I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to
hold him, to shield him, to protect him. He’s not just a face that
appears on my computer. He’s not just a picture that I have printed
out. He’s a child. With the same hopes and dreams as the children
that I love back home.

Kluy and I

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I
looked at him. He smiled, put his small arms around me and squeezed
with all of his strength. I guess he was trying to squeeze the
sadness out, or squeeze his happiness in.

“Oh Kluy,” I said, “Jesus loves
you so much.” I wrapped my arms around him, and squeezed with some of my strength. I guess I
was trying to squeeze the statistic out, or God’s hope in.

To read more about human trafficking,

visit my teammate Michelle Johnson’s blog, “I am an abolitionist.”