The song “Bottoms Up” echoed through the street. Girls were standing on every inch of pavement, wearing less than most bathing suits. Krystal was on my right, and our two leaders were on my left.
Bar ministry. Parent Vision Trip. Philippines.
We walked into the first bar. I followed Kenny, took a deep breath, and started praying. This particular bar employed 800 girls, and most of them looked under the age of 16. They walked on the stage wearing 8-inch stilettoes and duct tape.
Yes, duct tape. That’s what covered their bodies.
Instantly, my heart began breaking. I tensed up and shut down. My eyes wondered all over the bar, devastated by each scene they focused on. I couldn’t form words to even verbally process what I was thinking.
It was horrible.
Kenny told us to start asking the Lord for one girl. Instantly, Krystal pointed to her. She joined us at our table, and we started making conversation.
Guys. She looked so young. She looked innocent and blameless.
Kenny told her what we were there for. He explained that there was a better way to life; there was a way out of the bars. Most importantly, he told her we weren’t there for sex.
That’s when it happened.
Freedom.
You could almost see the weight lift off her shoulders. She relaxed.
Eventually, we had to leave that bar without her. She said she would think about it, and call the ministry if she made a decision.
We joined our other leader, Clint, in another bar that was just down the street. We walked in and a dozen girls stood against a mirrored wall, dancing around poles. Through the smoke, I could see Clint with three girls in the back.
They were beautiful. They were smart. They had kids.
And they wanted to get out.
We sat with the girls for well over an hour. They shared their hearts and stories with us. They laughed with us. They cried with us. They held our hands. They loved us.
All of their stories revolved around once common theme. After high school graduation, most girls have no way to get a job. The sex industry is there only option for income. My stomach was in knots as the word ‘slavery’ came over me. All I wanted was to proclaim freedom for those girls in the name of Jesus. Selling their bodies is nothing more than a job to these precious girls.
…and it’s there only option. It’s there life. In America, we have options.
What will we do after high school graduation?
Will we go to college, or start working full time?
Will we settle down and have kids or travel?
We have options, and so many girls don’t. When we think of the word slavery, it’s in a Social Studies class. We don’t associate it with girls (who are MY age), selling their bodies for sex every night.
When we left the bar area, we had nine girls on the bus with us. NINE GIRLS. Nine girls said they wanted nothing more with the bar scene. Nine girls said they wanted freedom. Nine girls left.
Never have I ever seen the fruits of people’s work so quickly as I did during Parent Vision Trip. Never has my heart been ripped to shreds like it was that week. I may never get those images out of my head that I saw in the bars. Then again, why would I want them to leave? Everyday, it’s another reminder to pray for them.
