You may be thinking that this is another blog that uses an analogy for a message. Well you’re right, but at least I gave you fair warning.
But I also mean it in the literal sense. My contact and her Vietnamese friends took me and my teammate Amanda one day to get new eyeglasses. Not an ordinary trip. We naturally rode with them on the back of their motorbikes during traffic hour. Note: You all need to put riding motorbikes in Ho Chi Minh City on your bucket list. Just saying. Don’t worry Mom, I wore a helmet. After weaving in and out of hundreds of motorbikes, cars, trucks, and bikes through the streets we turned down a shady alley and came up to the sketchiest looking eye glass store I’ve ever seen. Pretty sure there was no doctor present as they examined my eyes and updated my prescription. Then I picked out my new frames-Levi brand of course- and watched as 2 men proceeded to cut the glass and shape and melt it into the frames. Oh they did this while smoking a cigarette and sipping on some drink. All for the price of $16! Please and Thank You!!! My teammate Amanda was getting glasses for the first time, and the look on her face when she realized she could actually read things was hilarious.
But it led me to think of how my vision can be so blurred and blind to the truth for years without any knowledge of my ignorance. Which leads me to the main attraction of this blog.
Us girls on Overflow had connected with a woman at the church who goes on weekly prayer walks during the day and night where prostitution and trafficking flourishes in Ho Chi Minh City. The Backpacker District-aka where all the Westerners go-was the main one. One Friday I was blessed to go with her on both of these walks.
We started our day walk right in the center of the backpacker district and made our way down the small streets and back alleys. The abundance of hotels and massage/nail salons was incredible. Many of these serve as brothels. Many of the signs you would pass by without a second glance, never knowing. The young white male coming down the stairs from the “nail salon”. The young Asian woman at a restaurant with an older White Male, the look in her eyes and her body posture telling the whole story. Women handing out massage flyers at all the males as they walked by. Darkened windows when you look up. The “nail salon” that is closed during the day hours. A certain heaviness covered us as we walked through, and I prayed hard. I prayed for the men. I prayed for the women. I prayed for the precious children outside the school we passed by, and for their futures. I prayed for convictions and changes of hearts. I had feeling of shame for not seeing what has been right around me, just the abundance of it. And I wondered how many places I have passed by completely ignorant of what is happening.
While the day walk left me with heaviness and sadness, it was in no way comparable to the night walk. We arrived in the same spot around 11 pm, anxious and prepared. But how can you ever be prepared to see people living in such slavery? As we walked through a street of loud bars with young people drinking and dancing, I couldn’t help but remember when this was my life at one time. Partying with friends with tunnel vision, completely apathetic to the hurting people in this world because I deserved to have a good time. The next street we passed an older woman who had her back to the sidewalk, and as I looked closer I realized that she was in fact shooting up with heroin right before our eyes. I have to admit it took me a minute to unglue my feet from the ground, feeling helpless yet wanting to help her so very badly.
We moved on to the next street of bars, not as packed with Westerners looking to party at that hour. We passed several bars with young Asian women, dressed in high heels, heavy makeup, and small items of clothing that I supposed you would call a dress. The bars were mainly occupied by Western men. We passed a bar, but then circled back and walked in to get some sodas and water. As I tried to remove the look of disgust from my face at the White male groping one of the women, I prayed for conviction in his heart. The manager had received flowers from someone for Valentines Day, ironic I know. My teammate offered to take pictures of them and before we know it we are having an all out photo shoot with the women. This led to small talk and conversation on their lives, children, etc. Later at the bar I moved to talk to one of the other woman. While I was asking her about her job, a small boy selling gum came up to. This ragamuffin looking kid named Foh with green hair and a determined posture melted my heart. I bought a pack and tried to ask him questions, but he quickly trotted down the street to make a profit for whoever he was working for.
After leaving that bar we were told by the women we went with that had NEVER happened before to them. NEVER had they been allowed to talk so much to the women. NEVER had they been able to take pictures with them. NEVER had they been able to exchange phone numbers. Praise God.
We moved onto our last bar where we sat inside shortly after being ushered in quickly by the women so as to not discourage men from coming in. These girls were a different kind of heartbreak, looking way to young to be there. I watched one of the super young looking ones spend 15 minutes putting on makeup. We were not able to talk to these girls, although we spoke to the owner for about 5 minutes.
It was as if God was slapping me in the face time and time again that night, breaking my heart and ripping out the pieces. The words on this blog can’t describe all the thoughts and emotions that I experienced that night. Pain. Brokenness. Compassion. Conviction. Anger. Frustration. Wonder. Confusion. Sadness. Heaviness. Hope. Justice. Mercy. Hopelessness. Faith. Disgust. Fear. Passion.
Throughout this race I have learned just how blessed His Word is, and His truth brings me comfort time and time again.
“Lord, why do You stand so far away? Why do You hide in times of trouble? In arrogance the wicked relentlessly pursue the afflicted; let them be caught in the schemes they have devised…But You yourself have seen trouble and grief, observing it in order to take the matter into Your own hands. The helpless entrusts himself to You; You are a helper of the fatherless…Lord, You have heard the desire of the humble; You will strengthen their hearts. You will listen carefully, doing justice for the fatherless and the oppressed, so that men of the earth may terrify them no more”. -Psalm 10: 1-2, 14, 17-18
Prayer: Father you know them, You hears their pain and their cries. I can’t begin to try to understand all the brokenness around me. My only desire is to open my eyes more and more to Your people in this world hurting, and to love them and fight for them. Thy will be done. Amen.
