She was naked from the stomach down. The color of her skin was momentarily faded by the amount of dirt and dust on her body. She had what looked like scars on her two-year-old arms. She came asking for food and money, but after interacting with her and presumably her sister, my teammates and I saw what she was really looking for: love. At one point she placed her arms on my legs and put her head down. I embraced her with an absolutely broken heart. She just thought I embraced her with a hug.
One day we were on our way to a bus stop and around seven or eight children approached us. They were very aggressive and starting hanging on my clothes and pulling off my scarf. I became frustrated and aggravated and found myself responding without compassion or heartache for their daily struggle for survival. Just then a man standing near us yelled at the children and tried to shoo them off. A young boy no more than two years old (who was naked) was pushed by the man. The boy fell on the pavement and started crying. One of my teammates tried to pick him up but the man told her not to. He aggressively pulled the boy up by one arm and continued to yell at them. The children didn’t leave immediately, so the man picked up a rock. We all stood there in complete shock but thankfully by the grace of the Lord the children then ran off.
Right before we arrive at the Daycare in the middle of the brothels, there is a group of anywhere from five to 12 women waiting: waiting to sell their bodies, waiting to earn money for their children, waiting to be emotionally destroyed time and time again. Their faces hide nothing; though covered with make-up in hopes of attracting more men, the pain and heartache they experience daily is written in their eyes. The Daycare has a window so in a period of a few hours we see dozens and dozens of women followed by dozens and dozens of men who are on their way to complete the “transaction.” We arrive at the Daycare before 11 a.m.
I am absolutely emotionally wrecked right now. Even as I write this I’m sitting in an air-conditioned mall, enjoying an ice-cold coffee drink. If I get hungry I just have to go to the food court upstairs. I’m surrounded by loud music, department stores, “comfort.” It’d be easy to call this a refuge from what’s outside…I wonder how many children will approach me for food on my walk home.
Through my confusion, the chaos surrounding me and the chaos inside of me, I have realized just how much I must constantly depend on the Lord. I am incapable of facing the destitution and injustice we see every day and being unaffected, but because of the Lord, and only because of Him, I know there is Hope; there is Love; there is Joy. My heart holds firm to Him and His promises. One of the songs we sing with the children at the Daycare is “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.” I find rest in this Truth.
