This month for Team Change will be a little different. We don't have a ministry. Our ministry is to find ministry. We search google, ask our friends, and work hours a day on finding the Kingdom builders that get no recognition. We drink coffee, converse, and listen about the vision that God has placed in these world changers' hearts. So this month you will hear their stories. They're challenging, beautiful, and inspiring. I hope you come to love them as much as we do.
For the safety of the organization, the name and names of the people involved have been changed.
With every passing day, I become even more grateful for this whirlwind of a life I lead. Yesterday was no exception. Unsung Heroes may be one of my favorite things I've ever done. The stories I hear are life changing and it is my absolute pleasure to share them with you.
Nestled in between a school and a crowded row of houses, there is a four story building. It looks like a house, but it serves as a beacon of hope for the country of Nepal. An impressive looking Nepali man in a nice gray suit met us outside and extended his hand to us. "James," he said. "Nice to meet you."
I immediately felt underdressed compared to this businessman. A World Race outfit rarely gets very fancy. But as we walked into the office, he removed his suede shoes, replacing them with penguin house slippers. "It gets cold in the office," he added sheepishly.
Sitting with James was a breath of fresh air. His heart was evident moments after making his acquaintance.
The story of his organization begins in 1989 when he and his wife were living above a carpet factory in Nepal. One night, they heard screaming outside coming from the floor below. They looked over the balcony saw the owner of the factory screaming at a girl who was in hysterics. They later found out that the owner of the factory had sold the young girl to a nearby brothel. She had escaped and come to exact revenge on the man who had sold her.
James' eyes were open. He never knew the sex trade existed until talking to this young woman. He and his wife decided they had to do something. A few days later, they were walking by a Hindu temple and saw a young woman who was extraordinarily malnourished. She looked as though she didn't have much longer to live. James and his wife quickly found a large basket and carried her through town to the nearest hospital. They told the nurses to take care of her while they went home to fetch some clothes and other things the woman may need. They assured that they would pay for the medical bills and be back in a few hours.
However, when they returned to the hospital, the woman was gone. They walked back to the temple and found her there. The hospital had run some tests and discovered that she was HIV positive. They took her mangled body and left her at the temple to die.
"It was then that we took her to our house. We fed her, clothed her, bathed her, and loved her," James continued. They later discovered that this woman was a temple prostitute. She was forced to serve the men of the area for no pay. This woman lived for two more years and then passed away in their home.
In the months leading up to her death, the woman begged James and his wife to find her daughter. Before going to the temple, this woman had been in a brothel. She became pregnant, but when the child was three years old, the brothel owners separated mother and child.
"You must find Daisy," she whispered. "Find Daisy."
"I promise I will try," James replied.
Twenty-five years later and James has kept his promise. He and his wife opened an organization like nothing I have ever seen before. They have border monitoring stations that work with border patrol. They watch for suspicious activity and interview women that they believe are being trafficked from Nepal to other countries. From there, they promise the women safety and shelter. Many women press charges against the perpetrator there at the border. They have emergency shelters where the women receive extensive counseling. They then assess the situation and decide if it's safe for her to go home. If the answer is yes, they meet with the family of the girl and educate them on better ways to help their daughter/sister/friend. They follow up with every girl for up to five years to make sure she is not in danger again. If the girl can not go home, they have safe houses opened to give the women a new life. They teach the women a handy-skill and entrepreneurship and allow them to build income stabilization for themselves. They believe in complete restoration through the Gospel. Many of the women leave the shelters and go back to their villages to plant churches. They share the Gospel with those that have never heard it before.
"Last year alone we rescued 926 Daisy's," James tells us with tears in his eyes. "I try every day to keep my promise."
We had the beautiful privilege of visiting one of the nearby safe houses. The women are radiant. They are full of life and joy. They giggle and smile. When they see James, their whole demeanor changes. "They're my daughters," he says. And when I see them, I believe it.
He shows me the things they have sewed and the jewelry they have made and dotes on them individually. They blush, clearly proud that their work has been noticed.
Fingerprints of hope covered the entirety of that day. The hell that these women had experienced is very real. The details I heard made me sick to my stomach. But the hope is so real.
Hope comes in the form of a businessman in a suit with penguin house slippers. Hope comes in the form of a wife dedicating her life to these women. Hope comes in the form of me. And hope comes in the form of you. When we are obedient, hope flows from us because Christ is in us.
There is hope, friends. There is hope.
