[this happened yesterday.]
My breakfast date with Jesus was about to get interesting…
He wasn't anything special to look at. Medium height. Medium build. Brown hair. British accent. The only thing that distinguished him from the rest of the men in the coffee shop were the women on either arm. They were petite, rail thin Cambodian girls in high heels and minidresses, unusual attire for a breakfast date.
The trio sat down next to me. He kept his arm looped casually around the shoulders of one of the girls. The other kicked off her heels and curled up beside her friend. I tried not to stare, sipped my chai tea and kept blogging.
At least, I tried to keep blogging.
I kept overhearing bits of their conversation.
"Do you girls want to go to Angkor Wat tomorrow?"
"How much for the whole day?"
"I have a friend who'd like to meet you."
Then…
"Could you bring some young boys with you tomorrow?"
I almost choked. It wasn't like I was sitting in a busy bar on a Friday night. This was a respectable, Western style coffee shop. Ninety-percent of the customers spoke English. I was sitting not three feet away from them. I closed my eyes, not trusting myself to look at him. What came next was worse:
"I can bring my son."
I felt sick, but couldn't stop listening. He agreed that this sounded like a good plan. They spent the next ten minutes negotiating prices. He would pay for their day out at Angkor Wat, plus giving them twenty dollars for each of them and their children.
I put my face down on the table and cried. My heart was broken. My mouth was frozen. My spirit was in an agony of indecsion.
Tell me, what would Jesus do?
Would he throw a steaming cup of chai in this man's face?
Would he offer to pray for them?
Would he condemn the women for offering their sons like sacraficial lambs?
Would he make a declaration to the entire coffee shop about the injustice of what was happening one table away?
What would Jesus do?
I sat at my table with my head in my hands, whispering prayers between tears.
JESUS, save these boys. Keep them safe. O LORD, rescue them from this plan. LORD, be their Savior. Be their protector, GOD. JESUS, we need you. JESUS, they need you. FATHER convict this man. LORD let him turn to you instead. LORD change the hearts of these women. There's more for them LORD. There's more than this, LORD.
I remembered being at the lady boy bar in Chaing Mai and how, though I was disturbed by the sin there, I wasn't broken hearted. I was able to keep my distance from it emotionally. But that had been different. There weren't children involved then. I kept my face in my hands and kept praying. My chest was on fire, pain radiating through my lungs making it hard to breathe. Finally, I looked up.
The man was staring at me. I met his eyes and didn't smile. He kept a steady gaze on me, but I didn't back down. I didn't say anything, but I think he understood that I knew what he was doing and that he was the reason for my tears. He looked away. I packed up my backpack, paid my bill and hopped on the back of a motorbike to get home.
Every protective, mama bear instinct in me is on fire today. My heart feels like it might fall apart, knowing that today is the proverbial "D-Day" for these boys. I know that somewhere in this city, two little boys are either victims of a horrific crime or the rescuees of divine intervention.
And I'm praying for a rescue.
