Dancing. It’s something that brings me a whole lot of joy. From classes since I was two years old to my much loved team in high school to spontaneous dance parties with friends, it’s something that has been and always will be a part of my life.
So, when I walked into a dance bar in Nepal and saw teenage girls dancing for the pleasure of men, my heart stopped and my whole world shifted.
I knew this is what I wanted to do with my life- minister to women who are in the sex industry, I mean. However, actually seeing it with my own eyes really brought my passion to the surface.
I was able to meet women who dreamt of bigger things for their future. Of getting different jobs, to begin with. So, that’s what makes my heart break even more. Not all of them are forced into this profession, but from just a couple of conversations we can hardly crack through to the truth of what they’ve experienced. Even if they are forced into doing what they’re doing, many of these women have been repeatedly told not to disclose the information.
After meeting up with one of the girls we met for coffee and at least (hopefully) bringing a little more light into her life, we moved onto the next country of India, and I unfortunately haven’t been able to contact her since though I continue to pray.
A month passed, and then when we got to Cambodia my world was turned upside down all over again. Here, we’ve had the chance to go to a specific bar in the touristy city of Siem Reap. Upon entering the establishment, it looks like any other sports bar with pool tables, booths, televisions, and music blasting from the speakers. However, upon a second glance, you see something unusual. Young Cambodian women in tight dresses are matched with older, white men who are blatantly tourists. In case you didn’t figure it out, these women are paid to be companions.
We’ve now gone into the bar a couple of times, and each time I’ve had to fight back tears and my gag reflex as I look around with heartbreak and disgust.
How can these men do this? Why can’t these women escape this life? Do they even want to?
Question after question continues to flood my head. While we’re there, my team and I try to make conversations with the women while also blatantly communicating that we’re there for friendships. (We had to find that out the hard way.) One problematic thing is that we just want them to know what real love and joy is, but they are still so engrossed in this lifestyle that they don’t want their time wasted with no pay.
When I enter these situations, I have to immediately pray. Though my hearts aches for justice, the Spirit also leads me to pray for every person in the bar, the men included.
I yearn for freedom for these women and for these men, all slaves to their own idols, whatever they may be, and lost in their brokenness. The Spirit prods me to remember that I am no better, only saved by grace.
My word that the Lord has been speaking to me this month is, “chosen”. I know that this word is for me individually, a reminder of the specific purpose my God has for my life and also a reminder of the fact that I still did nothing to receive this incomprehensible grace. I am thankful every day for it, but I also pray that this word would seep into the conversations that I have with these women, too. They are loved, chosen, and created for a purpose as well. I want them to know the all-satisfying truth of being chosen by our God, not the fleeting feeling of satisfaction from money or being chosen by a man.
My thoughts keep swirling, and sometimes I wonder where God is when we enter into that dark place. Nonetheless, I keep praying and interceding and loving anyway, because it’s not about my emotions that come and go or about my human capability to love. Every bit of my strength and love comes from my Savior who is making me like Him.
So, I press on, knowing that one day we will all be free to dance in His presence, for His glory, and called His chosen forevermore.
