Hello friends!
My first month of ministry is D O N E and let me tell you, it’s been a time. Let me start by clarifying: I did not jump out of our World Race America van headfirst, literally or metaphorically.
But I do smell like strip club and cigarettes.
I met some strippers and told them they were beautiful. I held their hands and prayed with them. I met a prostitute and held her babies. She was precious and her children were beautiful.
Let me tell you something that’s so important and misunderstood in our culture:
Prostitution is not cute. Prostitutes are not Julia Roberts-Pretty Women-quirky fun go-lucky girl; it’s not J-Lo in Hustlers. It’s not Hollywood glamour and female empowerment. Legalizing it will not help the women at all: It will only help the pimps and the johns. Legalizing prostitution will inevitably lead to an increase in sex-trafficking. Prostitution is not women choosing a career to live that kind of life because it’s fun. It’s a choice born from desperation and brokenness.
The woman I met was in yoga pants and uggs, t-shirt, braless, and matted weave. She had a little jelly belly from carrying her two babies. She looked just like every woman I’ve ever met.
Except.
Except her eyes were empty. She was so so broken. She seemed vacant of personality because it had been years of her personality being squashed down and wrung out of her that all she had was a feeling of worthlessness and no emotions.
She was 22 and empty. Her babies were 2 and 4, so vibrant and full of life.
The team pulled them out of a really bad situation; we followed them down a dark street after she left a bad situation with some men (Maybe her pimp, maybe not). We brought them back to our meeting space and the ministry we were with got them food, clothes, and a place to stay for the night. Her 2 year old didn’t even have shoes on. And while she was with us, someone called her.
They had kicked in her door and set her home on fire.
She was beautiful. Her children were beautiful. And I feel physically sick thinking about the fact that they were walking back to that house when we picked them up.
Do you know, when we first left for ministry that night, I was a tad nervous to go out. I was a little hesitant to jump out of the van and speak to women in sex-trafficking. I’d never met anyone in that before so I was unfamiliar with the terrain.
Also. What would I say?
What could I say?
Our ministry partners were practiced and confident in what we were doing, so I asked to go with one of them. So when she said “I see a woman!” I jumped out of the van. And after that first leap, all the rest were easy. I had such peace from the Lord to dive into uncertain situations. I jumped out several times that night, and we handed out many roses and key chains.
(The ministry was jumping out of the van, 2 woman (and 1 man nearby in case of an emergency) would approach a woman we believed was in a trafficking situation and hand her a rose, tell her she was beautiful and Jesus loved her, ask if she would like prayer and also hand her a key chain with a 24-hour hotline number on it to get help if she wanted out of her situation)
I’ve spent most of my life inside a metaphorical van. Waiting for God to use me, to tell me to go. I always thought I’d be afraid when He finally told me to go. But I wasn’t. Somehow, I was able to jump out, head first, no fear. The van door opened, and out I went. I am working on being constantly ready to jump; always open to be ‘interruptible’ for the Holy Spirit. I don’t want to stay in the van anymore. I want to see more brokenness. I want to see more of Jesus working. I want to hold more prostitute’s babies, and hold hands with more strippers. I want to be such a conduit of God’s power that I just fade into the background and people are gripped by the inescapable truth that it’s the Lord working, and I’m not there at all.
I was asked by our team’s mentor last week what I wanted to get out of this year. And honestly, if I leave this experience in November the same person I started, I’m going to be hella disappointed. I want greater faith, a greater capacity to love, and a greater understanding of who God is and how He works. (And also some things I’ve been praying for to come into fruition, but that’s just a lil selfish bit I guess) I want to see revival and to do that, I have to jump.
Revival starts as drops in the ocean that ripple out into tidal waves. Paul called it planting seeds. Praying for one person can seem like a tiny drop in a vast ocean, or a small baby seed in giant dirt pile, but God makes tidal waves and giant Sequoia redwoods. I know so many people and churches that fast and pray for revival, but never couple it with action. So many strong, passionate believers I know are still waiting in a van.
Friends, it’s time to jump out. Head first, no fear.
“I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.”
– 1 Corinthians 3:6-9 (NIV) –
If you see woman who you think might be in that lifestyle, talk to her. Let her know she’s seen.
She’s beautiful.
She’s loved.
She’s not worthless.
Offer to pray with her.
Let’s see revival together.
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