I walk down a street where bars are side by side and the women looking to make a dime are too. I walk down a street where laughter fills the air, laughter that is anything but priceless. I walk down a street where heartache and brokeness intersect with ignorant desperation. I walk down a street where it is easy to make the quick judgment that men are detestable and that women need to be rescued. I walk down this street with a perspective very different from the one I had the last time I was in Thailand. I walk down this street with an opinion of men that is very different from the one I have had for years.
I have reached the Red-Light district.
Bars are filled with lost people but not just women, men too. My eyes scan through the darkness that consume the people searching for something more. Alas, they reach one of the very men who is in his later years. This man has lived more than half a century; he probably has children, he probably had a wife, and at some point, he probably had aspirations. I watch him as his hand, wrinkled with age, goes to pick up the drink that sits in front of him. A woman waits patiently in the shadows for the perfect time to make the initial sell; the first key in accompanying him throughout the night, whether that be just during his time at the bar or after. As the woman makes her way over to him, I see the loneliness in his eyes escape soon being overtaken with excitement and thrill. I do not know this man. I do not know his story. I do not know where he has come from, where he is at, or where he is going. The only thing I do know is that he is living for the moment. My previous response would have been one of repulsion but ironically, I continue to watch, saddened by what I see, and this time not JUST for the woman who is trying to make the sale. My heart hurts for the man sitting in that bar because obviously he is just as or perhaps, even more so, broken than the girl he is seeking attention from.
To be completely honest, I have a heart for those women. I speak from experience when I write that in the slightest way, I know what it is like to make the 'sale' and even further, to be encouraged by the man I thought I would marry, to continue it. I understand the vulnerability. I understand the desperation. I understand the indifference. My heart goes out to these women because I was one of them. However, something in me has changed. My once automatic attitude towards the opposite sex has plummeted from complacency to understanding. My thoughts have gone from murder to aid and my heart has gone from sheer hatred to love. I cannot truly express how or when or for what, this has taken place; the only thing that I can tell you is why. Those men, they are someone's sons, they are someone's brothers, and they are most likely, the fathers to many. My once hardened heart has gone soft for them. Why? Well, because God has called me to love them. He calls us all to. It is easy to walk the streets of red-light districts, strip clubs, or brothels and to have a heart for the women but what about the men? My heart longs to help them and although I do not know what this help looks like, I do know that I want to speak up for them. I want to put into writing that they are not forgotten because if you think about it, they have been.
Many of the things I have heard or I myself have thought are things such as "they do not value intimacy," "they don't have a conscience," and "they are disgusting…pigs" These are things I have heard from Christians, these are things I have heard from good people, these are things that I myself have said… out loud. It's a little sad when I think about it. Sad because God calls us to love our neighbors and sometimes our neighbors don't always have their lives together but not only that, God asks "If you love those who love you, what reward will you get?" That's right, he calls us to love not only those who are easy to love, but he calls us to love those who appear to be unlovable. He calls us to love the broken. He calls us to love the evil doers. He even calls us to love those men paying for a single night of pleasure and great will be our reward if we do so.
So… Why as good people, why as Christians, why as missionaries even, why is it so hard for us to put the stamp on these people, these men; you know, the stamp that says 'they're not worth it,' 'no use,' 'they don't deserve it' – the stamp that ultimately enables them to be the ones who are forgotten. Although I have been taken advantage of and hurt by men just like these, God has come into my heart and somehow enabled me to have an unexplainable love for them. I would like to challenge anyone who reads this to learn to love these men. I would like to encourage you to change your perspective, opinion, and heart towards the people who have followed society's lie that they should continue the search for something more, in a simple night of satisfaction. I would like for you to begin loving like Jesus and do it in a way where there is truly, no man left behind.
The following are pictures of me and some of my team members in Thailand.
Follow Me on Instagram: aubrays
