My first trip to India was in November of 2003. I was in awe of the poverty, the harsh caste system, the temples covered in gods and goddesses demanding puja (sacrifice) to appease their anger and gain favor.
I remember feeling extremely fortunate to live in a country with lavish freedoms and an overabundance of resources. Despite our challenges, we are a nation that encourages the ‘American dream’ and provides opportunities for anyone who chooses to follow their passions.
My first experience in a brothel was shocking and emotionally overwhelming. I was there to lead a Bible study for about 20 women, invited by a local ministry who had created inroads into this group of commercial sex workers with love, compassion, medical care and alternative job training.
I sat on the hard cement floor of a dank room with molding walls in the heart of one of the largest slums in the world. My senses were overcome.
The sight of dirt-stained sarees and anguished faces, the smell of a nearby open sewer running through the alley, the sounds of crying infants and the touch of a toddler sitting next to me rubbing her hand (not so gently) on top of mine, in hopes that my white skin would lighten her beautiful brown skin.
And then there was the burning in my mouth from the green chilis hidden in the filling of a samosa I was offered and reluctantly ate - I could not offend the chef who handed it to me and stared at me until I took a bite.
It was all so much to take in. I began to pray silently for wisdom and peace.
As the women began to gather, I was introduced to two 13-year-old girls who had been living in a cage since trafficked a few weeks before from Nepal for the purpose of selling a virgin to the highest bidder. Their pimp unlocked the cage and brought them to me.
She asked me to pray for them. I was numb and speechless until I was able to muster out feeble words of blessing and protection that seemed to bounce back at me from the cement walls.
Anger and justice rose up in me. I wanted to grab these 2 precious girls and anyone else I could and bust them out of this hell they were living in. I began to pray under my breath in tongues, trusting that the words would somehow make an impact and bring breakthrough.
I could not imagine how God would allow such atrocities to happen to innocent women and children caught in circumstances beyond their control.
Extreme poverty results in behaviors that people of privilege do not understand.
I have come to realize those living in the depths of poverty have been forced into choices I will never be asked to make. If I had no other option to feed my child, provide shelter for my family, run from an abusive relationship, would I be above what these women have opted to do? I pray I will never find out.
After 20 years of serving in the red-light areas on short-term teams I have resolved my need for justice by forcefully removing victims to allowing the God who knows them, loves them and sees their plight to be their Savior.
I trust that the work I do leaves an impact and empowers the local ministry providers to keep making inroads and usher women and children into a life free from the cage of human trafficking.
Ultimately, my work turned towards the local ministry leadership as I led teams of pastors, counselors, children’s workers and trauma experts, training in-country leaders who are daily managing their own need for justice and allow the Holy Spirit to do His work in the hearts of those trapped by evil.
I praise God for the victories I have seen. Leading pimps to know Christ and leave the trade, the small education centers I have frequented and have seen children grow up to know that the life their mother led, was not the life for them.
The depths of evil that lurk in the world of traffickers is one our renewed minds cannot fathom or attempt to understand. God calls us to intercede and trust Him to do His work the way He deems best … and Romans 8:28 remains my life verse … a promise that He will turn all things to good.
Comments