The Red Light District

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She was not even 8 years old when they came for her. Mom left and dad was always out drowning his cares with drinks. She was helpless. They abused her and left. Then they came again, so she ran away. Out on the street she was held at knife point. They said, "sleep with me or I'll kill you." After one man had used her he told her she should end her life. He gave her a knife and sent her off. She almost killed herself, but someone saw and stopped her. One girl said, "you are already doing this for free, so let me show you how to make some money at it." With no place to stay, she tried to sell herself out on the street. Still, she was so young that many took advantage of her.
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The stench of urine and waste filled my nostrils and I knew we were getting close. My heart beat with anticipation. With tears and intensity we had prayed for a spirit of freedom for this night. Now all of our prayers had come to fruition and we were in the Red Light District. "Oh God, love through me tonight! Love through me tonight!" was my soul's desperate plea. At last the small white van pulled to the side of the road.
It was time. 
It is well known that this place is dangerous. To many our presence is not a welcome thing. The people know why we are there and that our goal is freedom for the girls. A fight even broke out at one point, but I felt no fear. My focus was on the girls. They were not what I expected...they seemed...normal. They were far from what you would think. We smiled and shook their hands. Some were friendly and smiled back. Others adverted their eyes when we looked at them. Some even followed us around and asked questions. Earlier the girls in the safe homes had passed out fliers for a party a few days later. There they'd have the opportunity to hear about Christ and about freedom. I prayed they would come. I wanted to tell them how much Jesus loved them! The language barrier weighed heavy on me, but I prayed that the love of Christ might know no bounds in us. I pray that our weakness was His strength in that dark place.
I was struck by the vastness of the Red Light District. We walked several streets, but only saw only a small portion. So many girls can stay in business because of the amount of traffic that comes through. It costs next to nothing to get a girl for a while, so lots of men do. I noticed men walking by with a smirks of satisfaction on their faces as they pulled their girl for the night close. The girls wore shame around them like a cloak. It broke my heart. Children roamed the streets, even so late at night. They have no choice. It's either the streets or getting shoved under the bed of the tiny little room they call home. Loud, pounding music blared from the rooms of some. Most of them had posters up of other women, as if the girls are merely the object and the attention is elsewhere.

Tears filled my eyes as we pulled away. I saw it. I walked through it. I cannot forget it now. These girls will forever have a piece of my heart. I have seen those who are under oppression. I touched them and they touched me. I wish I could take you with me to see it. I wish I could adequately describe their faces, their eyes. You would cry. You would hurt for them. You wouldn't be able to pretend they don't exist anymore. You would have to do something to help.

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She was 11 years old when they rescued her. Trauma and abuse was all she had know for 4 years...4 years of her childhood. She had been through so much that she didn't speak to anyone for almost 2 years. To cope her mind completely shut off parts of her memory. Finally, she started interacting with the house mother and the other girls at the safe home. Then she started to remember. Coping was hard, but she finally started to develop and bloom. Now she stood telling us her story with tears. Betty, the translator had to take over mid-way through because she couldn't finnish. Still, the message was clear...
There is freedom.
Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom.