The following blog, “Good House, Bad House” is written by my teammate Amanda Howard. I really couldn’t have said it better myself. Check our her other stories at www.amandahoward.theworldrace.org…
You know that feeling when your heart hurts so badly it sinks into your stomach and makes you feel nauseous? It’s the feeling you getting after suffering from an intense break-up or attending the funeral of a loved one. You feel like you have a knot in your throat and it becomes a challenge simply to swallow. It’s the adrenaline that rushes through your veins when your 2/3 of the way through a gut-wrenching film and you’re just dying to know whether or not the protagonist will survive.
That’s how I feel every day.
That’s how I feel when I think about child sex slavery.
That’s how I feel every time I picture a little girl being sold into the brothel and her mother thinking she has a promising future or job ahead of her.
That’s how I feel every time I see a little boy selling flowers in the market, knowing that in the distant future he will be transformed into a woman against his will and sold for sex.
That’s how I feel every time I imagine a child abandoned, lost, and alone, just waiting to be rescued.
It breaks my heart like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and sometimes I want to run home and immediately tell you the truth and reality of the world we live in, but sometimes it’s to heavy to even put into words.
This morning we were given the opportunity to visit the Hill-tribe Villages to see where the children come from that live at “Remember Nhu”. I didn’t really know what to expect, but as we arrived, it looked like many other villages I had seen before.
One thing I noticed was that, as usual, many of the houses were made of natural materials. However, a few of them were much fancier. It didn’t take long for our contact to explain where the money had come from. Many of the families sell their children out of desperation. They are poor. They are starving. If they don’t send away one child, the others will die. Many times the families are tricked into believing it is for a decent job, only to later discover that the children end up in a brothel. So I ask you: what would you do if you had 5 children and your entire family was starving? Would you risk sending one of them to spare the rest?
The good news is that at the end of the day, my heart still aches, but it is not without hope. I still writhe in pain at the thought of the many children crying out in desperation, alone and in need of a Savior, but I rejoice in the fact that they are never truly alone. Their Father has not abandoned them, not for one second, and His heart aches for them more than I could ever begin to imagine.
I am surrounded by stories of hope. It was difficult seeing the families in the village today, knowing that many of their children were missing, but it was beautiful coming home to our children at Remember Nhu and knowing that they had been saved. Their Father heard their cries, and He brought them home. And for that, my aching heart finds a reason to dance with joy.
Psalm 116:5
