I have to be honest... I am struggling with this. I feel like I am obligated in some way to talk about what I have seen and heard. God, how do I convey this without exploiting those I want so desperately to protect? And I will never be able to make you understand. I can describe things to you with words, and Lord knows I am not the best writer. I could show you pictures and videos... if I could take them. But even those images before your eyes allow you to keep a safe distance. I have to confess that until today, I felt very detached. I knew there was a red light district and what was happening, but it wasn't real. It hadn't come to life.
And now it has. God give me the words...
Evil is very real. Darkness is very real. It lurks in the shadows behind the women as they stand at their doors. It is in the drugs given to the new girl to make her compliant. It is in the pimp who watches and collects the payments... blood money. It is in the idols on the walls and the red bands around their necks to ward off evil spirits... not realizing the evil that is consuming them already. No charm could ever fight that off.
Pain is very real. It is in the eyes of the woman who wiped away tears as I walked past. What happened to you darling? Were you hurt? Rejected? It is in the downcast eyes of the woman who had one eye completely bloodshot. Some looked and smiled back despite the pain. Some simply stared. Some couldn't look at all.
It smells like celery... I later discover it's liquor... homemade. God, I hate that stuff. It turns men to animals. It dulls the senses. It weakens her resolve. The heat is oppressive. Hindi music is played loudly in the streets.... almost like a mocking celebration. There are goats. I taste mango juice, a gift from a dear friend as we visit her home. I breathe in cigarette smoke, and when we get to the car, I cough... my body trying to expel the dirt. Some women stand in groups. Some stand alone. And there are so many men. On their way home from work. Taking advantage of good business in the area. Trading money for her body. It hurts to watch.
And yet, there is life...
Hope is very real. I see it in their eyes... the little ones. The bright eyes and big smiles. I hear it in their voices as they sing. I watch them dance for us. I can't wait to hold them. To know them. Yet, little one, what horrors do you go home to at night? What evil lurks in the shadows to steal your innocence? Did you ever have any to begin with?
When do the smiles of joy turn to smiles of seduction?
When do bright eyes lose their fire?
When does that fiery spirit weaken to submissive resolve?
When do hearts that so freely open become hearts of stone?
God, what is that point? How do we stop it? When does the blow come that finally breaks her? Please no...
Yet, in the midst of the pain and evil, God is there. He moves. I know this because I know that evil cannot defeat my God. No darkness can extinguish the light. Oh He can move. He is moving. These are his people. His treasures. God move... make all things move.
I ask you friends to storm the gates of heaven on behalf of one little girl who is being abused and needs to get out. Speak life over her. Pray away the strongholds. God wants her. Pray for light. Don't pray for me, but pray for her... that she will be rescued before the light in her eyes is extinguished. Please...
Now that I have seen, I am responsible. Faith without deeds is dead.
And now it has. God give me the words...
Evil is very real. Darkness is very real. It lurks in the shadows behind the women as they stand at their doors. It is in the drugs given to the new girl to make her compliant. It is in the pimp who watches and collects the payments... blood money. It is in the idols on the walls and the red bands around their necks to ward off evil spirits... not realizing the evil that is consuming them already. No charm could ever fight that off.
Pain is very real. It is in the eyes of the woman who wiped away tears as I walked past. What happened to you darling? Were you hurt? Rejected? It is in the downcast eyes of the woman who had one eye completely bloodshot. Some looked and smiled back despite the pain. Some simply stared. Some couldn't look at all.
It smells like celery... I later discover it's liquor... homemade. God, I hate that stuff. It turns men to animals. It dulls the senses. It weakens her resolve. The heat is oppressive. Hindi music is played loudly in the streets.... almost like a mocking celebration. There are goats. I taste mango juice, a gift from a dear friend as we visit her home. I breathe in cigarette smoke, and when we get to the car, I cough... my body trying to expel the dirt. Some women stand in groups. Some stand alone. And there are so many men. On their way home from work. Taking advantage of good business in the area. Trading money for her body. It hurts to watch.
And yet, there is life...
Hope is very real. I see it in their eyes... the little ones. The bright eyes and big smiles. I hear it in their voices as they sing. I watch them dance for us. I can't wait to hold them. To know them. Yet, little one, what horrors do you go home to at night? What evil lurks in the shadows to steal your innocence? Did you ever have any to begin with?
When do the smiles of joy turn to smiles of seduction?
When do bright eyes lose their fire?
When does that fiery spirit weaken to submissive resolve?
When do hearts that so freely open become hearts of stone?
God, what is that point? How do we stop it? When does the blow come that finally breaks her? Please no...
Yet, in the midst of the pain and evil, God is there. He moves. I know this because I know that evil cannot defeat my God. No darkness can extinguish the light. Oh He can move. He is moving. These are his people. His treasures. God move... make all things move.
I ask you friends to storm the gates of heaven on behalf of one little girl who is being abused and needs to get out. Speak life over her. Pray away the strongholds. God wants her. Pray for light. Don't pray for me, but pray for her... that she will be rescued before the light in her eyes is extinguished. Please...
Now that I have seen, I am responsible. Faith without deeds is dead.
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