Darkness fills the air making it hard to breath.
I know the enemy is all around me
As we walk into the restaurant my lungs fill with smoke.
We cram into something they call a “cabin” waiting for our waitress to take our drink order
We invite her to sit and have a coke with us
She is beautiful and her eyes are bright
She is eighteen years old and her name means emotions.
This couldn’t be more perfect, since I could read them all over her face
We talked while men walked in and out receiving what they came for
We sit praying for Gods grace to fill the room
She loves to dance, has brothers and sisters, and would love to travel
She also thinks her skin is too dark, her hair isn’t soft enough, and she isn’t beautiful.
My heart is breaking for this young women sitting next to me
This is the life she now knows and thinks there is no way out
We supply her with hope and love
We share stories about how Our Father from above grants it freely
We laugh and with each passing question/answer I feel her wanting to know more.
Unfortunately we have run out of time
I want her to find freedom. I want to scream and beg her to leave with us. ?But I stop myself. I smile. Give her a hug, and leave.
We cross the street and pray.
Pray for her.
Pray for the other girls in the room who gravitated towards the light we were shining.
Pray for the men who come to this establishment
Pray for the owners/pimps
Pray for God and the Holy Spirit to go into their lives and open their hearts.
This restaurant she works at is called a cabin restaurant. In basic terms, it is a way to make brothels legal. Each table represents a cabin or “room.” There is a table, some benches, and walls just tall enough where someone of the average height cant see over. Men come in and depending on how much money they are willing to pay, sexual favors are granted to them. All while the next paying customer is at a nearby table.
Think of when you go to the restroom at a restaurant. The stalls you use cover just enough so no one can see you; however if you listen closely, you can hear the noises the person is making in the stall. This is exactly how these “cabins” are.
These restaurants are everywhere. If you didn’t know about them, you would have no idea they existed. The first day we went out, we passed by four before I even knew we had seen any. They are disguised as average restaurants and to many of the locals they don’t realize it is a problem because they are hidden so well.
Women beginning around the age of fourteen are at risk. They are pulled from their villages or run away thinking they will have a better life. They end up paying someone to “set them free” only to end up becoming enslaved. They now owe this debt and their new owner provides a place to stay and a job. The monthly expenses for rent, food, and any other necessities plus the debt makes it impossible to ever get out.
When they become older, most end moving up in the system by becoming owners themselves and training new girls. This is the only life they become to know. Their life is full of emptiness, hopelessness, and brokenness.
My eyes have now been opened more than ever before. I can never go back and unsee or block out what I know now.
This isn’t the only think that opened my eyes that day. That night we headed to the touristy area called Temel to the dance bars. Like the cabin restaurants, these dance bars were everywhere. at the beginning of the month we spent four-five days in Temel and I never saw a single dance bar. Coming back this night there was one every few hundred feet. My eyes were closed before to this issue that is taking over.
There were plush U shaped couches with a table in the middle facing the dance floor. The music was blaring so loud I cant hear the person next to me let alone listen to my own thoughts. There were men and women who take turns getting up on stage to perform a dance that will catch someones attention.
I look around and wonder how I ended up here. I asked God how he wanted to use me and just how was I going to strike up a conversation with someone who may or may not speak english.
In a way I felt like I could relate to these women. They are using their body to get something out of it. Money mostly, but also for just a second, not feel so empty.
When I was in college I used to do the same thing; however I gave it away freely. I used my body to get what I thought I wanted or needed only to feel even more empty inside. I allowed shame and guilt to boil up inside me for six years before I finally gave it to the Lord, asked for forgiveness and forgave myself.
I wanted to share my freedom with these women in hopes that something from my story could shed some light. My mind was running rapid and I began asking God how I was going to begin to share. It was then I realized I was not making git about this women, but about myself.
God began to show me that although to some extent I could relate to these women, my story wasn’t what needed to be shared. I was there to listen, not to speak. I was there to show these women that not everyone in there had something to gain by talking with them. I was there to show these women someone loves her, not for her physical appearance but for her heart. I was there to be a friend.
I met a woman who had been working there since she was fourteen years old. From what I understood, she had never been a dancer, just a waitress, but she was surrounded by the darkness. She got pregnant at fifteen/sixteen and was married by seventeen. She is now twenty years old. Her words spoke that she enjoyed working there but her eyes and posture seemed like she was drowning in pain.
I talked with her the best I could. We shared pictures of our families, laughed when there was an awkward silence because neither could understand each other, and I was able to pray for her. Many women in this dance bar have the same story. Most are married with children and their husbands either got them this job, work there with them, or are okay with them working there. Once again, I had to leave empty handed but full of hope for these women futures. My head was held high and prayers were leaving my lips as I thanked the Lord for constantly showing me His grace. For me, for these women, and everyone involved.
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Dear God, my eyes are now open. My prayers are spilling out stronger than ever for these women and men trapped in these situation. I beg you to heal these hearts. I pray that the seeds we have planted get watered and the little light we were able to shine in on their darkness takes over. I trust in your good and perfect will Lord an know you have a plan to get each and every one of these people out. I pray for a power of protection over them until the time comes and I ask you to soften their hearts for the next person who tries to share the gospel with them. Amen.
