“I
just get very drunk its easier that way…No one wants to be here. We
all want to get out and go somewhere else. Anything but this.”
Anger welled up inside of me as I read the words on the wall written in big bold capital letters. “NO REFUND”.
The words hit me like I had been punched in the stomach, leaving a sick
nauseous feeling. It was the first thing I saw as I entered the massage
parlor. The next thing my eyes met were ten beautiful smiling faces of
the women
who worked there. They were sitting in what can only be described as a
pin or corral in front of a large mirror that spanned the wall behind
them. We walked in and almost instantly had ten new friends. We sat for
the next half hour or so talking, laughing, sharing, just being. We
talked about the things we liked and enjoyed, our dreams, hopes, and
desires. We learned names and asked about where they were from, as most
of the girls were trafficked here from somewhere else in the country.
Then
the sobering reality hit me as four customers ready to consume the
product they wanted to buy walked up the stairs. How could this be? These girls are just like me.
They in one moment were talking about their desires to become nurses,
singers, restaurant managers, to go back to school and in the next were
an object to be bought and sold with no refund. The men’s eyes met the fierceness in ours and they quickly turned around as embarrassment
came over their faces. I quickly put it out of my mind because I had
more laughing, smiling, and encouraging to do. I knew this was just the
beginning. This encounter was the first of many clubs we have visited
where hundreds of women are in this destructive situation.
It
has now been over a week since my first experience in the clubs and I
now know much more than I ever thought I would. I now know that one
girl was FAR younger than the required age of 18 when she was brought
to Manila to be a “waitress” then forced to dance and sleep with men.
Her own cousin lied to her and sold her to a recruiter. I now know that
there are countless girls who are just trying to support their parents
or to pay tuition to go to school. I now know the girl who was orphaned
and has to take care of her little brother. She feels hopeless,
like she has no other option. I now know that girl after girl gets
drunk night after night so the horror of what they have to do becomes
numb. I can hear her voice telling me, “I just get very drunk. Its just easier that way.”
I can hear the words echoing in my head, “No one wants to be here. We
all want to get out and go somewhere else. Anything but this.” I have
seen the bruises. I have seen the tears. I have seen the emptiness in
their eyes as they try to escape to somewhere else in their minds while
they dance exposed in front of the men who want to consume their flesh.
I have seen the men, many of whom are Americans on “business” trips
with wedding rings on their hands, being consumed by a sick addiction
that never fulfills but leaves a lust for more. I have seen the
desperation for something to rescue these women from the nightmare they
live.
My
heart is beyond broken, it is crying out for these amazing women, for
the injustice that they have been subject to. I want them to know that
they are loved by God, that He has great plans for their lives. I
want them to know that they are God’s workmanship. That His heart
BREAKS for them. That He wants to heal and redeem them. I want to
apologize for the millions of people who know this occurs and sit back
and do nothing. I want to apologize for our apathy towards human
trafficking. These women are not statistics, they are daughters,
friends, sisters, and mothers. They are people who deserve better than
being used, abused, then thrown aside for the next person to do the
same. When will it stop? When will someone reach out and pick them up
off the floor, extend a hand of unconditional love that doesn’t expect anything in return. We are not here to tell them to repent of their sins or judge their lives. We are here to bring hope. We
are here to LOVE. We are here to extend a hand, cry with them, pray for
them, let them know they have a future. We share with them joy and
peace, even for just a moment. We are being used by God to be light
shining one of the darkest places I have ever seen.
God’s
favor and protection over us is amazing here. We are partnered with the
health department, so we are welcomed by club managers when we do night
outreach. The management has to comply and it allows us full access to
form relationships and share Gods love with these girls. We are invited
into the girls’ inner sanctuary, we are allowed in their dressing rooms
and preparation areas. We laugh and talk with them as they do their
hair and make up. They know we are not here to use them, just to get to
know their hearts. We have come to know so many of these girls by name
and see them on a regular basis.
So what do you do when a situation feels so overwhelming? You go after the one. You reach one heart, comfort one girl,
one at a time. You offer a smile, a shoulder to cry on, and YOU PRAY. I
trust that God is here. I see him working, moving, healing, and
restoring. You FIGHT LIKE THE WARRIORS GOD CALLED US TO BE interceding
for His children. You pray that God would reveal the path to get out
and make it clear. You pray that healing and restoration would come
into the deepest places of their hearts. You pray that miracles
would happen in this city and in the hearts of many. You pray that club
owners and managers would be reached for the Lord. You pray for the
protection of their minds, bodies, and hearts. You pray for the men to
see what they are doing for what it really is. YOU JUST PRAY WITH ALL
YOU HAVE and TRUST that God will do the rest. I’m not talking about
nice little Sunday school prayers, but the ones that come from
righteous anger that springs forth from injustice. So I will ask you
this… WILL YOU JOIN ME? Make a difference. Don’t sit idly back and let this happen. Pray for the women and men affected by trafficking. Ask God how He wants you involved. I trust God and I trust He will give you the answers.
