There are some things that are just hard to put into words.What I’m doing this month isn’t all that hard, really – a paragraph
of less than a hundred words, really.
of less than a hundred words, really.
Teaching English.
Praying.
Maybe spending some time hanging out at a youth prison.
Taking part in a cultural exchange at the end of the month.
But while I can sit here in this coffee shop checking my
email and facebook and other thing, thinking about how different this month
looks than I was expecting it to even a week ago, there are things going on I
don’t even want to think about.
email and facebook and other thing, thinking about how different this month
looks than I was expecting it to even a week ago, there are things going on I
don’t even want to think about.
Innocents being trafficked through Chanthaburi on their way
to Phuket. Or Pattaya. Or Bangkok.
Or elsewhere.
to Phuket. Or Pattaya. Or Bangkok.
Or elsewhere.
Brothels exist here, too. Everything my squadmates in Phuket
right now are seeing and experiencing happens here, too.
right now are seeing and experiencing happens here, too.
It’s just that no one knows about it because this isn’t
where the tourists come for that.
where the tourists come for that.
For all my desire to get away from statistics this year, I
was startled (and distraught) to hear that while 60% of the men who fly into
Bangkok come for the sex industry, the men that fly in generate only 20% of the
revenue.
was startled (and distraught) to hear that while 60% of the men who fly into
Bangkok come for the sex industry, the men that fly in generate only 20% of the
revenue.
That means 80% of the revenue comes from Thai men.
Two nights ago, I was walking around with a few of my teammates
at a fruit market, and we walked right past a man walking with his lesser wife
(a prostitute a man can bring out of the brothels, but doesn’t ever legally
marry), with his wife and children right behind him.
at a fruit market, and we walked right past a man walking with his lesser wife
(a prostitute a man can bring out of the brothels, but doesn’t ever legally
marry), with his wife and children right behind him.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to scream.
All I could do was go home that night and pray. Praying is part of my ministry this month, after all.
But praying is hard to do when all you can think about is
the haunted look on the painted face of the lesser wife as she and her ‘husband’
walked through the festival.
the haunted look on the painted face of the lesser wife as she and her ‘husband’
walked through the festival.
You want to do something – and a lot more than just sitting
and praying.
and praying.
One of the things I’m learning right now is that, mostly,
praying is all you can do.
praying is all you can do.
You, in and of yourself, can’t change a person’s heart.
You aren’t capable of giving any real or lasting love or
hope on your own.
hope on your own.
Those things come from God.
And you have to pray – persistently – to Him if you want to
see any of that.
see any of that.
So my prayer for this month is for a change of heart… for
the men of Thailand,
and for the women.
the men of Thailand,
and for the women.
And I pray it believing that it will happen.
My God is more than big enough to do it.
