Honesty hour: this blog has not been easy to write. I have tried again and again to make it right, but it is just so hard. I want this blog to be perfect, though I know it never will. I want to do my experience justice. I want to write this for the girls who have no voice.
It is time. My life will never be the same. My heart is about to be shattered, broken like it never has before. Sonya*, the most amazing girl I have ever met walks up to me because she will be my leader for the night. She is a beautiful Filipina who once was trafficked in the exact same bars we are going into tonight. Her story is incredible, full of both heartbreak and redemption. She hands me a gift, a beautiful cross necklace. I put it on and she grabs my hand. Together, we step out into the night. The street looks different than it had before the sun went down. It is busier now, and as far as my eye can see, every bar has been lit up with neon lights. Girls are outside, smiling and flirting, enticing you to enter their bar. I am in complete and utter darkness, an evil is looming, preying on the weak. But I feel strengthened, anointed to become the light to the lost. I feel wrapped up in the love and peace of Jesus. I can do anything through him.
As I walk down the street, I have my favorite dress on and am all dolled up. I am ready to celebrate. I am ready to have fun and rejoice because I am about to go share Jesus with those who desperately need it, not by my word, but entirely by my actions. I hear the Lord calling me to open up the eyes of these prostituted girls to the purest form of love. His great love is beckoning to them, screaming their names. Their job does not define them. All 15,000 girls forced to work in these sleazy bars are worthy and beautiful and I am here to tell them. I am here to tell them there is a way out and that there is hope beyond. Sonya leads me and my parents into the largest bar on the strip. This bar is home to 300 girls. It is alluring and taunting. Inside, I am taken back. The small world I had come to know in my little town of Minooka, becomes not so small anymore and surely not as innocent. My eyes are thrust open to a darkness we don’t even hear about in the news. In front of me are two large strip poles and above me are dozens of girls just waiting to be called upon. In order to call one, the man or woman must tell the nearest waitress who then will get the attention of the girl using a green laser pointer. It is appalling. It is sad. I do not understand. But still, I look up at the girls; I really look. They are all so beautiful and all so unique. All of the girls carry different demeanors. Some of them are timid, looking down, and trying to cover their nearly naked bodies. Other girls are giggly and dancing and seem to be enjoying themselves. But, I can tell you one thing, not one of them wants to be up there waiting to be bought.
As I am sitting, there is one specific girl I keep noticing and I hear God whisper, “her”. As I muster the courage to ask her if she wants a drink, she gets called down and disappears. I do not know where she goes and I feel my heart sink. I think it is time to go now. We leave in quiet prayer. Outside, I no longer feel the celebration, all I feel is discouraged. But then I see her, the same girl from inside. She is standing on the side of the street, handing out fliers for her bar. I walk up to her, light seeping back into me. I begin making conversation with her, and in broken English, she tells me she has a daughter she is trying to support. I call over Sonya to explain Wipe Every Tear*, the organization we are partnering with in this ministry, to this beautiful girl. Sonya, with a sparkle in her eye, tells her about how Wipe Every Tear will give her free college, a place to live, and money to support her child. Joy looks stares blankly back at us, I think she is in a bit of a shock. So, we give her a card with contact information and walk away with a smile on our lips and a prayer in our hearts.
For the rest of the night, we get to know more girls. We have drinks with them and chat with them. Together, we laugh as we talk about our celebrity crushes and our favorite movies. They are girls, just girls. They are girls with dreams; they are young and beautiful and vulnerable. They are just like me.
Then, we step into our last bar for the night, and we are still celebrating. Sonya and I are laughing and joking as we walk in. And since this is a smaller bar, me and my awesome squad leader jump on stage to dance with the girls. I must say, I break out some of my best dance moves and then become friends with another girl. She is 18, just like me. On stage, we dance and laugh and sing. She is just like me. During our conversation, she smiles and points to a booth where her “boyfriend” for the night is sitting. My heart tears. She looks into my eyes and says, “Never stop smiling. Never.” I see the smile etched onto her face, but past that I see the hurt in her eyes. A smile can lie, but eyes cannot. I see the destruction and the pain. But, she is a girl just like me. I easily could have been born into her place. With that, I smile back at her, it is all I can think to do. After a little while, I decide to go back and sit down. I am thirsty from all the dancing, but she stays up there and continues to dance. But now, she is dancing for her “boyfriend”. She is 18, just like me. Finally, she comes down off the stage and walks over to me. She tells me she is leaving for the night. I don’t know why, but I grab her hand and tell her that I love her. She needed to know. She needs to know she is loved, by me, by Jesus. I whisper “I love you” one more time as she walks out the bar with that broken man.
*To hear more about Sonya’s incredible story please visit this blog (there are four parts, please read all of them): http://www.paintedorange.org/sonyasstorypart1/
*To learn more about the fantastic organization I worked with, please follow them on facebook: Wipe Every Tear or visit their website: http://wipeeverytear.org/
