In all honesty, I kind of wanted to gag when I realized that California had been taking part in devaluing Paris. I cringed at the thought of how I’d been nice to him. I’d high-fived the same hand that paid her the going rate for the night. I’d given him compliments while we played volleyball, all while she was sitting on the beach watching us; she probably wondered how we could think he was so great. Sick.
Sometimes I think I would be okay with hanging the people that make the sex trade flourish by their toe-nails. If given the chance, I just might do it. I was thinking all of these things when God stopped me in my tracks; He reminded me of when I was lost in my own sin, and that the only reason I’m seen as pure is because I have known His forgiveness.
The men that are seeking a night or few days of fun are empty inside. Somewhere along the road, they’ve been hurt…they’ve been made to believe that the love of a woman is something to be purchased, instead of something to be cherished and searched for in a wife. Just like the woman in the sex trade need to be reminded of their worth, the men that are the customers also need to be reminded that they shouldn’t live their life settling for random hook-ups; that meaningless sex isn’t going to heal their wounded hearts.
So, back to California and Paris. After pouring her heart out to Bethsaida and Leah, Paris made a lunch date with them for the next day at 2pm. That night, our two teams met together to discuss the day and sang a song over the situation with Paris. The lyrics are:
Come away with me. Come away with me. It’s not too late. It’s never too late. It’s not too late. I have a plan for you. It’s gonna be wild, it’s gonna be great, it’s gonna be full of me.
Sarah and I made plans to meet up with Bethsaida and Leah after their lunch date; we walked down the beach and saw them sitting by themselves around 2:30pm. Paris hadn’t shown. We were all so excited about how God had orchestrated the situation the previous day, so I was pretty bummed with the thought that they might have missed an opportunity to talk with her more. I prayed silently that she would round the corner at any minute.
Instead, California walked up beside our chairs and began to make small talk. I knew that God had convicted me of my judgmental attitude the previous day, so I tried to be as friendly as possible. While we were talking with him, a strange thing happened; he told us that the friend that was with him yesterday had left. Not knowing what he meant, we prodded for more information. California told us that Paris had talked with some “missionary” girls, he then paused to ask if they were friends of ours (we hadn’t talked with him about any of that at this point).
Lia, Sarah, and I glanced at each other and said, “yes, they’re our friends.” California then began to tell us how the previous night had unfolded. Paris had left the beach with him, but the conversation about God and her worth were still heavy on her heart; she told him that she felt what she was doing was wrong and that she didn’t want to make those choices anymore. In response, he asked her who it was hurting. Paris then told him, “I might not be hurting anyone else, but I’m hurting myself.” So, she packed up and headed back to her family. Umm hello God, you’re awesome.
I have no clue why California felt comfortable sharing this with us; somehow he knew he wouldn’t be judged (again, keep in mind that the Lord had convicted me of that the previous night). We told him about the World Race and began to talk with him about the difference in our views on right and wrong; we didn’t get too deep into conversation, but made plans to play volleyball with him again in the next few days.
And…the coolest part of the story…is that after learning Paris made the decision to leave prostitution and go home…we realized that she was making that choice at the same time we were singing a song over her. AMAZING.
God is doing so many great things in this place. Pray for Paris. Pray for California. Pray for White Beach (a place enveloped with prostitution, gay shows, and transgendered men). Pray that God would continue to use me as a small tool to speak into these lives.
