A prostitute is wearing my anti-trafficking bracelet.
For the last year I have had an A21 (www.thea21campaign.org) anti-trafficking bracelet on my wrist. There is nothing special about it in appearance. It is black with the word “Because” written in white.
But to girls around the world it means freedom. Freedom from the life they once lived. Freedom from the guilt and condemnation that comes from living a life where they are reduced to the number of johns they can please in a night. Freedom from the fear of having their families murdered, or worse, brought into this life-style if they don’t perform up to standard.
For me, it is a commitment. A commitment to pray for these girls and those involved in the daily fight against this injustice. A commitment to join with people around the world and fast on the 21st of each month. A commitment to join in this fight and a commitment to see human trafficking end in my life time.
Today, however, this bracelet took on new meaning for me as I handed it over to a prostitute and asked her to pray for those trapped in sex trafficking. This bracelet now represents God’s love for a beautiful young woman in Tanzania who is selling her own body, trapped in a life she doesn’t deserve, but still chooses to walk into day after day because she has never heard of the Father’s deep love for her.
As we were sharing God’s love with five women today, one asked if she could have my bracelet. I was sure she meant one of my beautifully colored bracelets that I wear on my wrist. I had no qualms handing them over to her, however, she didn’t want one of them; she wanted my nothing special black bracelet with the white writing. My heart squeezed for a second at the thought of handing over that bracelet. I love that bracelet. I love everything it represents. I love everything it reminds me of. I love that people ask me about it and I get to tell them about the fight against injustice.
I knew, though, that I had to hand it over. In that second of indecision, God whispered that there was a reason. I never would have dreamed what it was though. As she placed it on her wrist, I told her that I needed her to do one thing for me: to commit to pray for those women trapped in sex trafficking. She stared at me for a second while the other women started to laugh. She asked if she could give it back. I told her that if she didn’t want to use it as a reminder to pray for them, I still wanted her to keep it as a reminder of how much God loves her.
As we walked away, our translator asked, “How did you girls know she was a prostitute?”
The pieces all started coming together. The sleezy looking man she had previously escorted out of the house. The way my teammate read her the story of the adulterous woman without knowing her back story. Her inability to look my other teammate in the eye when she was asked if she had bad dreams at night. The rapt silence in which she listened as we told her how much Jesus loves her despite her sin. The way she sheepishly tried to give back the bracelet after her friends asked her how she could wear something like that when she was selling her own body (of course, this part of the conversation was translated for me later).
God has a funny way of getting people’s attention. We are simply given the privilege of being a conduit of His love and affection for others, but we must be willing to lay aside our own desires, trust that what He says is true, and act on it–even if it means handing over your anti-trafficking bracelet to a prostitute.
