I wish I could say that I was blissfully unaware of sex trafficking before my week with Wipe Every Tear, but that’s not true. My heart has been broken for the exploited and voiceless by stories and statics shared through books and biographies and social justice organisations like A21, the End It Movement, and the International Justice Mission for several years now. I was first exposed to bar ministry during my first month in Nepal, and it was one of the most heart breaking, discouraging things I’ve ever been a part of. So while I was pumped to be partnering with Wipe Every Tear for PVT* I also expected to feel the same incredible hopelessness I felt in the dance bars in Nepal. That wasn’t the case.
*PVT is the week of our race when our parents have the opportunity to join us on the field and partner with us in ministry to see what the Race is like. 🙂
It all started when we got off a plane from Nepal, walked out into the heat and humidity and chaos of Manila, and got in vans that would take us to our hotel. We couldn’t believe our eyes when we got out of the vans and saw that not only were we staying in a hotel, but a NICE one, even by American standards. AC. Beds. Showers. Things a racer kind of forget are real. (I’m sorry if I sound materialistic for gushing about a hotel during such an important week, but you’ve got to realise that I’ve literally slept on the floor for seven of my eight months on the race. A hotel is a big deal.) And even better, my precious momma flew all the way to the other side of the world (for the first time, I might add) to spend this week with me. Real quick, can I brag on my mom? She knew we were doing bar ministry, and while she was a little nervous, she told me “that if by my overcoming my discomfort to go into the bars saves one girl, it will all be worth it.” And thats what she did. She’s a rock star. Anyways. The first night of ministry was to go to two of WETs safe houses. We spent the night getting to know the girls there, eating delicious Filipino food, hearing their stories, then worshiping for an hour or so. The very next morning we loaded up onto buses and drove up to Angeles City to begin our outreach. Let me tell you something. Angeles City literally feels like HELL. I’m sorry if that word offends you…well, not really. Let it offend you. I can’t even begin to describe the emotions of anger and heartbreak and despair you feel seeing all the old, fat, white men walking around with beautiful Filipino girls on their arms. And thats how I expected to feel the whole time. It wasn’t.
It feels slightly blasphemous to say I had fun in the bars and strip clubs in one of the most famous sex tourism destinations in the world, but its true. Before we left the hotel for ministry, we worshipped. And honestly, you can’t understand what it was like without being there. It was like what the church is supposed to be, you know? If someone had a song, they brought that song to the body. If someone had a message, they brought that message. If they had a prayer, a word, anything the Holy Spirit brought to their hearts, they brought to the body. And the Holy Spirit showed up for real. He filled us all with amounts of joy and love and peace that were unfathomable by human understanding. So much so, that when we finally left for Walking Street, it felt like we were on the way to a party. And we did party! We danced with the girls up on the bars! We brought the light of Jesus and were his vessels. No wonder he hung out with prostitutes!! They’re cool, fun people! The first night my group stayed out until midnight before heading back to the hotel to let the parents go to bed while us Racers regrouped and headed back out. I had lost my voice and I was so frustrated and felt completely useless, God used that to let me stay back at the hotel and intercede until most of our people got back. Guys, I feel all over the place, but I have to insert something here, but I can’t even describe what it was like. Take the highest Holy Spirit high you’ve ever had, multiply it by twelve, then imagine going into the darkest place you can think of, and literally feeling like you’re glowing. Knowing that every interaction you have is planting seeds that are going to grow into beautiful things. Broken chains. Free hears and Freedom. The second night, we went to McDonalds for the first part of the night. Sounds weird, right? But thats where the freelancers hang out. Little girls who are too young to work in the bars, girls who are confident/desperate enough to try and pick up guys on their own. So it was fun! We didn’t have to yell over the music, and we were buying the girls food instead of alcohol, and the girls didn’t have a time limit! They could stay with us all night, if they wanted too! And some of them did.
I believe so much in this amazing ministry. Wipe Every Tear is completely different than any other human trafficking organisation out there, or at least as far as I know. WET recognises that the reason these girls are stuck in the bars is because of the poverty cycle. Without a college education, the girls have no other choice. So when WET gives their girls a free college education, not only are they breaking the chains of those girls but also their sisters, daughters, and cousins. WET literally provides everything for their girls, free of charge. College, health and dental care, housing, food, they support any children the girls may have, and even give them a daily allowance. You can see why its hard for the bargirls to believe us when we go in and tell them about it? It literally sounds too good to be true. And I saw it first hand. I honestly wish I would have dropped the Race to stay with and work with them for the rest of the time I have here. I believe in what they’re doing so much.
I know this blog is all over the place. If you have any questions about anything we did, or about Wipe Every Tear, please feel free to contact me! And also, if anything I’ve said has touched your heart, please consider donating to WET. I’ll link it below.
