Tonight I took my mom out into the bars of Angeles city, Philippines for the second night in a row.
Let me repeat that.
I’m in the Philippines. My mom is here. I’m taking her out to bars.
We’re working with Wipe Every Tear to invite the dancers to leave the bar/dancing/sex scene behind. They can offer them freedom. Free education, free housing, free food and transportation. It seems like it would be a logical choice: free everything and opportunity versus losing small pieces of yourself and your dignity night after night as men fawn over you for things that don’t ever satisfy. There’s so much fear there, though. So many of them are there supporting families. When I talk to them I see the look in their eyes: they want out, they want more and they want to believe that what we’re offering them is real. They’re just so afraid to reach out and take it.
I imagine I would feel the same way. Why would I want to believe in a foreign white girl who walks in and offers me something seemingly too good to be true? Why would I believe it after seeing hundreds of men (and women) walk through that place and exploit my vulnerabilities, my body, my heart?
Last night we met Jane*. She’s a beautiful girl I hit it off with instantly. She had some sweet dance moves and I wanted to dance with her. I did, and then I bought her a “ladies drink” and she sat down with me for a while between dance numbers. When I steered our conversation towards dreams and what she wants out of life, she said, “my dreams are simple. I want a family and I want us to be together. I want a house”. I told her that could happen, and when she didn’t instantly light up with excitement and gratitude I was confused.
But really, I think I would be less impressed with her if she had immediately believed me. You don’t survive the life she’s living being naïve.
Maybe she won’t walk away from the life, maybe she will. But I got to walk into that place that was soaked in darkness and bring the light of Jesus.
The sweetest part?
My momma was by my side, and she got to give those girls a mother’s hug that they desperately need. She got to tell them they are beautiful and that they have so much potential for a better life. She got to love them like she’s been loving me for the past twenty-two years of my life.
It’s said that no one can understand the depth of a mother’s love. I really believe that The Lord gave mommas an extra dose of tenderness and affection and empathy because He wanted a special vessel for those parts of who He is.
Sometimes it’s hard to face the realities of this world, and it’s even harder to pretend they don’t exist when it’s right in front of your eyes. Lovely, precious, beautiful, sought after daughters were stripped down to string bikinis, walking around in heels so high and staring out at the crowd like animals in a cage. But we hugged them, we talked to them and we loved them, because they’re brokenly beautiful just like I am and Jesus wants to see them liberated.
There is always hope in Jesus.
There is always power in His name.
There is always the light of the morning to follow even the darkest of nights.
If you know what I’m talking about when I say Jesus is the light, then carry it into the dark and see how marvelous He is.
If you know what I’m talking about when I say that Jesus is the way, then endure along the narrow way and bring as many people as you can to the party.
If you know what I’m talking about when I say that Jesus is the truth, then fight for those who are hurting, hungry, lonely and human just like us.
A mother’s love knows no condition or boundaries.
Just like Jesus.
* Girl’s name has been changed for her protection.
