Okay. So imagine that you are on the World Race (or maybe you are). You are told about something called a Parent Vision Trip that is going to take place somewhere around month eight or nine. You’ve been away from home and from your family for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so the prospect of getting to see your parents is pretty sweet. And this parent vision trip thing means your parents get to do ministry with you.
So you’re about to go to the Philippines and you get a ministry information sheet emailed to you about this ministry that feeds needy children who were victims of a typhoon. Many lost their families and their homes were completely destroyed.
Sounds like a pretty good ministry right?
Alright, now forget everything I just said.
Yeah.
Not that I didn’t get to do that awesome ministry in the Philippines because I did. For half the month. The half that I wasn’t with my parents for.
I soon found out that because I was the only person on my team that had parents coming, that I was going to be separated from them and the feeding ministry and be relocated in Manila with several other girls from different teams.
We were going to do bar ministry with our parents.
In other words, we were going to be directly involved in helping girls escape human sex trafficking.
Not what I was expecting.
I was expecting something easy, digestible, and low-key (especially since some Racers had parents who are non-believers flying in.)
If you’ve been reading my blog so far, you already know that I have had experience in this type of ministry before. So I wasn’t nervous about going to the bars…I was nervous for my parents! I know that sounds funny, but it’s true!
This is an environment in which young girls and women are basically forced into prostitution. Like…heavy stuff. Sometimes I have like a really solid time with the Lord right before going out and I am ready. The Spirit is strong in me, my game face is on, and the darkness of the situation can’t distract me from what I have set out to do (weird, but true).
Then there are other days that I walk down the red light district and wish each and every building on that block would blow up (without the people in it of course.) So you really can’t blame me for not wanting my parents to do bar ministry.
But turns out, my parents handled all the things better than I thought they would. Within our first hour at the first bar they were chatting up some of the girls casually about our family and showing them pictures of my niece and nephew (the cuteness which cannot be fathomed.)
Unfortunately, because of the sensitivity of the subject matter I can’t really show photos from those nights in Angeles City. I promise I have loads of more stories coming up!!
