Sex sells. That’s not really a foreign concept to anyone reading this; we’ve heard the saying before. What astounds me is not only does sex sell, but it’s cheap.
The same menu you can purchase a ‘sex on the beach’ drink from you can also purchase, to put it frankly, actual sex on the beach. The exact menu I’m handed each night at the bars to select my soda of choice also sells sex.
What’s weird is I find myself angry at the cost. I’m sure the economy and things such as inflation have changed things since I was last on a date but the last time I was treated to dinner and a movie, I’m guessing my date paid more for my meal. For less than the price of date you can purchase a girl for the night.
I found myself asking what my body is worth, my purity. Not that I’d ever sell it for money, no matter the price. Reading that menu though I get a little angry. It feels so demeaning, heartless and just plain wrong. Are people are really paying that little for somebody else’s body?
During my prayer walk of Bangla Road the previous afternoon the word worth resonated over and over, weighing heavily on my heart. They are worth far more than a number, than a monetary or even social price, than their bodies. My prayer has become to look more like Jesus. That when I encounter these women they wouldn’t be talking or seeing me, but staring straight into the face of the One who died for them, because they are worth it. My prayer is for boldness to proclaim truth over these women, and speak worth and life over them.
There are women on these streets that are no longer just bar girls to me, but friends. Some nights it’s really tough to visit them. Often times they’re too drunk to hold a conversation, sometimes they cry about the way a customer or boyfriend has treated them. Often times they paint a smile on and joke about the men but they can’t mask their true feelings. They are worth something to me. I can only imagine how much more they are worth to their Father, their Creator, and their romancer.
Don’t ever believe the lie that you’re not worth something, because you are. You are worth more than you could ever imagine. You were bought with a price and so are the women (and men) of Bangla Road. Not by a price stated on a drink menu, or a price this world places on you. The blood of Jesus Christ, who paid the ultimate price for you, ‘bought’ you.
These women are worth something!
1 Corinthians 6:19-20
