Women are worth celebrating. We are worth investing in.
For a while now, God has put women’s ministry on my heart, and for good reason. Many stretches of my own path to redemption are lined with women God placed in my life to cheer me on and correct my form.
Still today, I’ve been on two all-girls teams on the Race. It’s not a coincidence that God keeps putting me in circles of strong women who love him. I now see how all the women who have empowered me have played a part in unraveling this passion for myself to do the same for others.
Here’s my hope: I want broken, hopeless, lost women to know there’s tangible hope for them too.
Before I found my hope, my Jesus, I saw cool, intelligent, modern women embodying the very joy and peace I so desperately wanted. I wanted it, but it felt so out of reach.
Jesus isn’t out of reach though. In fact, He’s the one reaching out a hand. He pursues us more than we could ever chase him. I want the women I meet to know that in their heart of hearts.
This month we are taking this hope to the streets and ministering in red light districts in Nepal.
Out of respect for the sensitivity of the ministry, I can only share certain details of what we’re doing. All you need to know is this: We are on a mission to love the unlovables, or at least those who feel that way.
Tonight was our first night of ministry. We split into two groups and trudged toward our respective dance bars. Dance bars are the Eastern version of strip clubs; slightly more modest, yet just as dark and offputting.
We entered the dim room with a modest hope of connecting with some of the women and offering friendship. We didn’t want anything from them, which is a foreign concept in and of itself.
As we chatted with our waitress Kate*, girl after girl came out to dance for the almost-empty room. It was still early, so the customers hadn’t yet stumbled in for the night. Regardless, duty called and it was time to perform.
Some of the women had a visible heaviness about them. They carried fear and shame in their faces and body language. It was obvious they were either heavily sedated with drugs or so uncomfortable they refused to look away from the floor.
For others, it was obvious that their sin is their glory. One girl, and I do mean girl as she looked about 16-years-old, was especially forward. She seemed to be enjoying herself more than the other performers, but I saw right through her mask.
I don’t want to come off as if I think I know her life and her heart just by watching her on stage. What I mean is I saw past her “dancer” persona and witnessed a human. A real, live human with feelings and insecurities and fears just like the rest of us.
I saw through the front of the attention-seeking free spirit and I looked at the tenderhearted child that lives inside her. I saw through this and I saw the same broken girl I was before Jesus came and scooped up all my shattered pieces.
Maybe I wasn’t dancing on stage for a living, but on a basic human level, I get it. We all have the capacity to get it.
God created us in His image, yeah? If that’s so, we really aren’t so different from a prostitute or a beggar or the rulers of this world. Our sin may manifest differently, but it ultimately comes down to the same causes.
At our core, we want to be loved. These women, no matter how much their lifestyle contrasts with mine, are just like me in our quest for love.
Just like me, they have been running and chasing true love, coming up empty day after day. Just like me, they’ve looked to things outside of themselves to fill their God-sized hole. Just like me, they’ve walked through hurt and pain seemingly unbearable. Just like me, they are wildly, inexplicably loved by the King of the Universe.
I remember what it was like to be weighed down by the chains of existence day in and day out. I remember doing things I was ashamed of, and pretending like it was just who I am. I remember feeling low and empty and absolutely unlovable.
But God broke off every untruth that said I was meant to live in soul survival mode for the rest of my life. He’s still breaking off lies as they crop up, but today I have hope. I have hope in Love, and that’s enough to shift my whole life.
I desperately want these women to know that they are inherently loved, not because they are sexy on the outside or fun to be around. They are loved because their Creator made them for that very reason.
I don’t have the ability to tear down and rebuild their lives. Truthfully, that’s not my place anyway. It breaks my heart, but the same hope I have for my life is what keeps me going for them, too.
I believe the Holy Spirit goes with us into every dance bar, every street we walk, every conversation we have. He is the only one who can lead these women to the Father’s heart. All I can do is faithfully love the ones He loves.
Please join me in praying for the women we are encountering this month. Pray they would receive the love we give, and that God would make a way for us to build relationships outside of the dance bars. Pray for the Holy Spirit to move through us.
Pray for their lives, that they would become willing to let go of destructive behaviors and turn to the Author of Life. Pray for the young girls (as young as 14!) and the women alike. It doesn’t matter if they’ve been in this for 10 years or 10 minutes, they are equally as precious in God’s eyes.
Pray for the clients as well. Pray for freedom from lust and pride. Pray for wholeness in their hearts and a conviction for their sin. Pray that they would no longer view these women as objects, but as human beings.
Pray, pray, pray. Prayer works, no matter how far away you are from the places that host this darkness.
I encourage you to look at the sex workers of our society with compassion. They are also living, breathing people who want the same thing we do: love. Ask yourself, how can I be love to them?
You might be the only example of real love they see.
Love and blessings,
McKenzie
*Names changed for privacy
