Insignificant? Hardly! In the US alone, $6 billion a year is spent on potato chips. Not a small amount by any means. This startling data was shared with me by a colleague in the anti-trafficking community who came to witness the extent of trafficking in our neighborhood. We are engaged in a fight against criminals who profit $32 billion through the trafficking of human beings. As a result of combined requests by the NGO community globally, $350 million is donated towards anti-trafficking measures. There is not enough funding to do the work well and yet $6 billion is spent each year on potato chips in the US alone.

I wonder if we underestimate the power we have to make a difference. Potato chips are seemingly so insignificant we hardly weigh the cost of buying them. But look at the impact when pocket change is added up together – $6 billion per year. I see amazing potential when I realize that for the cost of a bag of potato chips our efforts combined can make a huge impact in bringing an end to the horror of human trafficking and sexual exploitation. We may not have enough to share large amounts in this economic downturn but together we can do some damage to the enemy’s camp and expand the kingdom of light.

Potato chips are taking the lead over abolishing human slavery by $5,650,000,000 per year in the US alone. I think we would all agree that potato chips are not more important than bringing freedom to those trapped in sexual exploitation and slavery. I hope you agree that by giving even “just” pocket change faithfully we can turn this around and support anti-trafficking measures around the world. We can make a difference – and if we all throw our “chips” in, it won’t take that much.
Sincerely,

Annie Dieselberg
CEO and Founder of NightLight International

A Story of Redemption
By Courtney Dow
Director of NightLight Atlanta

“I notice you have a lot of scars,” I say as she stares down at the dirt.

“I want to get out of here,” ‘P’ states with little emotion and without making eye contact. “My girls deserve a better life than living in hotels and on the street.”

Last Summer, we met ‘P’ when she brought her two girls, one and three years old, to NightLight Atlanta’s Kids’ Club. Over time, we began to learn her story.

At a young age, her parents separated. In the custody of her mother, she was left vulnerable to the abuse of many men. Eventually, social services removed her from the home but she was still unprotected from the abuse of others as she moved in and out of foster care, group homes, and institutions. At the age of eleven, her father passed away. At the same age, she escaped to the streets after experiencing a brutal rape. By thirteen, she’d been sucked into prostitution and, at fourteen, was trafficked to Atlanta. Ten years later, she found it impossible to break free from the exploitative cycles with which she was so familiar.

But this is a story of redemption.

In only six months, we were able to get ‘P’ a new job (with the help of some friends of NightLight) as she works toward earning her GED. She moved out of the hotel and into an apartment in a safer part of the city. She was paired with a NightLight mentor, who she calls “Mom.” She has come to know the Lord in the most simple and most profound ways. Her boyfriend, the father of her children, has also come into the Kingdom. On Easter, ‘P’ was baptized as thousands at Grace Fellowship Church in Atlanta danced, shouted, and wept. She will wed the father of her children next week.

One afternoon after church, she told me, “Sometimes, I just think it would be easier to go back to the streets. I have this voice in my head that keeps saying, ‘Go back–it was so much easier when you were hustling on the streets. You’re working so hard to do the right thing and it’s getting more and more difficult.’ But, I have this second voice that says, ‘I AM Almighty. I have a plan for you. Trust me.’ And, the cool thing is, I never heard that second voice until now.”

‘P’ continues to learn more about the character of her Heavenly Father. I cannot begin to describe the depths at which we have all been affected because of ‘P.’ She will be an evangelist on the very streets where she was once exploited. One day, ‘P’ will join the NightLight outreach team and the darkness better look out.

“Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy.” -Psalm 126:5

Last Friday night, we went back to the streets where we first met ‘P.’ We left in tears as we caught our breath from the heaviness of the area. We encountered a teenage girl who was being extremely verbally abused by a mamasan. We stumbled across a woman sneaking a hit of crack and then crumbling to the ground in shame when she saw us. There appear to be more and more girls all the time. The problems are overwhelming. But we carry a new testimony now. God doesn’t want just one–He wants them all! And we move forward with expectation for the continued harvest. More people are waiting to encounter God.

As part of our restoration initiative, we are currently mentoring 17 women who are in the sex industry or who are transitioning out of the sex industry. This Spring, two of our mentors even had the honor of assisting in the births of the babies of the women whom they are mentoring. On April 30th, we trained 25 potential new NightLight Atlanta mentors.

In February, Annie Dieselberg, founder and CEO of NightLight, came from Bangkok to speak to the NightLight Atlanta Team. She challenged the Team to never give up, no matter the circumstances.

“The Gospel is holistic,” Annie says. “The ‘rescue’ or ‘prayer of salvation’ is just the beginning. The road to recovery is long and hard and requires a commitment to ‘act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God’ (Micah 6:8). They will push the limits of your love and grace to prove that you never really loved them. It’s easy to show mercy to someone who deserves it. Mercy isn’t tested until you must show it to someone who doesn’t deserve it. What do you do when you’ve bound up the broken-hearted over and over again, yet they continue to fall back into destructive behaviors? You forgive them and show mercy and grace to them over and over again because we have been shown mercy over and over again.”

So, because of the redemptive work that God has done in each of us, we press in and cry out for the redemption of our city.

“[The redeemed of the Lord] will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations.” -Isaiah 61:4

Overwhelmed
By Maribeth Ward
Director of Prevention Programming

88 new children joined NightLight Atlanta’s Kids’ Club this season, giving us a total 353 kids in attendance since last Summer! And it has been my joy to get to witness many of the children in our Prevention Program put their faith in Jesus this season.

Recently, I asked all of the kids to close their eyes, and answer some questions for me. I began by asking them if they believed that Jesus is the Son of God. Hands started flying up in the air. They stayed up when I asked if they believed that Jesus died for them and rose from the dead. Some of the kids put both hands in the air when I asked if they believed that Jesus could get all the dirty sin out of their lives and make them clean again.

A couple of them even announced, “I got both my hands up!” Then I started seeing feet fly up in the air when I asked if they wanted to have new life with Jesus. It was such a sweet (and absolutely hilarious) sight to see kids lying on their backs with their eyes closed tightly and both of their hands and feet sticking up in the air.

I am so amazed at how desperately these kids want Jesus. What beautiful faith! The children are so eager to know Jesus and follow Him.

“And He said: ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’” -Matthew 18:3

As the children began putting their faith in Jesus this season, we started explaining that baptism is a symbol of our faith in Him. It shows that we want Jesus to overwhelm us with Himself and many of them said that they wanted to get baptized.

So we talked to them all individually about why they wanted to get baptized. Then, we had them explain their reasons to their parents and their parents signed a permission form. There were 9 signed permission forms as we entered into baptism day at the end of the season.

We were so excited for these 9 kids to get baptized. When baptism day came, however, many more decided that they wanted to get baptized. There ended up being 19 baptisms total!

One by one, 19 children stated their reasons in wanting to get baptized into the microphone. They proclaimed Jesus as their Lord as other children and onlookers from the extended-stay hotel gathered around to watch these children put their faith on display.

Their explanations were amazing. The majority of them simply said, “I love Jesus! And Jesus loves me!” Some said they wanted Jesus to save them, and that they wanted to become a new person. One six year old explained to her father: “I want to make a covenant with Jesus because I love Jesus and I want to live with Him forever.”

Their baptisms mark the beginning of a covenant relationship with the One who gives them life in abundance. Our desire is to see these children come into their true identity in Jesus and this is happening right before our eyes.

Eyes of Destiny
By James Rodgers
NightLight Atlanta Intern

What makes a man a man? Is it reaching a certain age? Is it having a certain social status? Is it possessing an amount of physical strength, or an amount of money? Is it having a prestigious job maybe, or being respected or feared by the people around you? This semester, as an intern for NightLight, I’ve met males on the streets of Atlanta who meet all of these criteria, and yet are the consumers directly fueling a booming sex trafficking industry in this city. There are 7,200 men buying sex from underage girls in Atlanta every month, which forces me to re-think the definition of a man.

God’s led me to believe that being a man is not about how much power you have, but what you do with the power you do have. A man has three mandatory duties: to lead, to provide, and to defend. One in four girls in the United States has been sexually abused because she wasn’t defended. Women have to choose between starving and prostitution because they have no providers. Young men grow to become abusers of the weak, capable of evil things, because they have no father-figure to lead them into a lifestyle of honor. In Atlanta, and worldwide, we are facing an epidemic of men who are not men. Indeed, they are the problem. But, for these reasons, men are also the solution.

When we get past the dark, hard facade to the heart of these men, we find another group of broken, lost people. Hurting people hurt people. On my very first outreach, standing outside of a strip club, I had a long conversation with an adult man who opened up about the pain of his parents’ divorce and his brother’s recent death. He told me he came to the club because “these girls love [him,] they know [his] name.” Although an atheist, he let us pray for him and he left knowing we truly love him–eventually, he will know that about his Heavenly Father. The times I’ve felt God’s Spirit flowing through me the most during outreach have been the times I’ve spoken and prayed with men in these places, speaking into them their true identity, purpose, and what their Heavenly Father thinks of them.

While at a mission conference earlier this year, an elder of the church pulled me aside. “I want to thank you personally for the work you’re doing. I, myself, used to be one of the men in the brothels, paying for women, when one day someone from the church came and met me where I was at. They brought Jesus into my darkness.” He is now an awesome man of God because he was seen for what he was worth, not his sin. God has a tendency to look at us from our destiny, not our present situation. (Think Gideon.)

So, I believe one of the most powerful things we can do is to call out the destinies that have been forgotten in these men, to give them healing, purpose, hope, and a future. NightLight had a great opportunity this January, as a public high school invited Courtney and I to speak to 150 guys about being true men. Kingdom truths were released into these young men’s hearts that will affect their entire future.

II Cor. 3:17 says, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” When people ask us how to pray for the issue of sex trafficking, we tell them, “Pray for revival!” We need for our city to be filled with the Spirit of God! The bottom line with this issue is idolatry. What are these men really seeking? G.K. Chesterton said, “Every man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God.” Hearts will be healed and changed as they come in contact with the most beautiful being in creation, Jesus Christ.

God ends the Old Testament with a promise. Before the day of the Lord, He will send the spirit of Elijah, “and he will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and children to the fathers.” Do it, Lord.

I heard the words but I don’t remember feeling anything. She suddenly appeared to me as a small scared girl rather than an angry and aggressive controller. I reached out and took her hand. She didn’t pull it away. “Look in my eyes,” I said to her. She turned reluctantly but couldn’t hold the gaze. “Look in my eyes,” I said again more firmly and she looked back uncomfortably. “Maybe someone kill me. Maybe. I am not afraid. I will take the risk because we care about the women here. We care about you.” Her eyes had already escaped my hold but I tried to tell her that we had not orchestrated the raid. We had only been called in to help the women and to translate.

The woman asked a couple of guarded questions, trying to keep the upper hand of interrogation and intimidation but she was losing ground. She made a phone call to the trafficker, and then left. We waited awkwardly for a bit and then got up. As we left we could feel the tension as the trafficked women we passed ignored our eyes and then stared at our backs. Our informant, who works in the area, sent word that we should be careful and that we were in danger. Somehow he felt we had blown it and would be better off not returning. The street was all a-buzz with the story of who were and what our supposed role was in the arrest of the trafficker. We could feel the story being twisted as it was relayed from one to another along our path. We had upset the system. The trafficker was out of jail and determined to regain her position of influence and undermine ours. Someone had to pay for this and she wanted us to know she had made her choice. My colleague was worried and lectured me on being careful. I laughed and tried to make light of it.

It’s a strange thing to ponder the possibility of your own death as a result of ministry. I’ve read and admired too many stories of martyrs to exempt myself from the possibility. Each story I had read however, begged the question of me, “Would I be loyal to my Christ? Do I have the courage it would take?” As I pondered this death threat, the possible scenarios flash through my mind. How would they do it? An image of a gun aimed at me flashed before my eyes. Not likely, I argued – too obvious. These people are all here illegally, one way or another, and can’t risk an obvious crime. Maybe they would grab me, throw me in a taxi and take me somewhere else to teach me a brutal lesson? Possible – Ugh! I quickly deleted that image from my mind. This was my martyr scene and I wanted it to be poignant – meaningful – heroic. I imagined another scenario in which my eyes and words communicated such a love of God that the killer is unarmed and falls headfirst into the kingdom of God. Why stop there? The whole ring – no – everyone involved in the case – they all would see the love of Christ and the entire area would be transformed into a place of love and grace.

“Mom, are you going to court today?” My 14-year-old son’s question interrupted my sappy death scene from its delusional trip to nowhere. I told him we decided not to go fan the flame of conflict by encountering the trafficker. He was relieved. “Oh good, because I don’t want you to die.” My resolve to being a heroic martyr quickly eroded. “I am not afraid to die but I want to live,” I told him. “I want to be around for you and I believe God has a lot left for me to do here on earth.” He nodded with relief and left me to process the situation with a new dose of reality.

Am I willing to die? Yes – I think. Probably – I hope. It’s a good question to ponder (in humility) but I realized that God is doing something bigger in this case then we can wrap our limited minds around. Personal safety, (though important), has never been the goal of missions. There is a bigger story that is taking place of the battle between darkness and light, justice and injustice, death and life, good and evil. We fought long and hard on behalf of the victims but then desperate to return home and avoid retaliation, the victims turned against us in court. The trafficker already out on bail gloated over her small victory. We retreated as we processed the feelings of betrayal. One of the victims called us that night and the anger melted away as we told her we loved her and would pray for her. It was the last time we would hear from them in Bangkok. Defying the letter of the law they escaped charges for perjury and were quietly snuck out of the country. The law took a hit but justice regained the upper hand in delivering the victims to safety.

It has been 10 years since God first planted the vision in my heart to help the Central Asian trafficked women in Bangkok. In the last 4 years NL’s team has assisted 15 victims in escaping their traffickers and returning home. We know it’s just the beginning and there will be many more. With the recent victims safely out of the way, we now begin to head back to the area of conflict. It feels anti-climatic but we still we re-engage, watching our backs and cautiously taking the offensive. “Can plunder be taken from warriors or captives rescued from the fierce? This is what the Lord says: Yes, captives will be taken from warriors and plunder retrieved from the fierce; I will contend with those who contend with you, and your children I will save.” (Isaiah 49:24-25) Fear and death lurk in the fierce shadows warning us to stay away but there is no fear in love and we know that we are more than conquerors through Him. Compelled by the love of Christ for the broken-hearted, we will be relentless in pursuing justice and setting the captives free. In His name we go forward to infiltrate the kingdom of darkness and we call to the captives, “Come out,” and we declare to those in darkness, “Be Free.” Your God is mighty to save!

Love at NightLight is rarely convenient. Whether it is the 14 year old lady boy we meet on the street, Gomer, who just can’t get her act together, or the women who need prayer and deliverance, the need for love rarely – in fact almost never- comes in a convenient time or place. This is the assignment we are given however, to be inconvenienced by love and in doing so we find the greatest fulfillment as we see lives healed, encouraged, and even transformed. Even while writing this letter I am being called to participate in a rescue of trafficked women (which I am thrilled to do) on my first day of Christmas break. The timing is inconvenient but the outcome is worth the inconvenience.

Over 2000 years ago, as the angels announced his coming, Jesus was born during a census and in a manger. It was an inconvenient birth but only the beginning of God’s love expressed through Jesus in the flesh. Jesus came and walked the dusty roads, touched the untouchable and loved the unlovable. He paused when he was most busy to heal, to forgive, and to love. Jesus could have called on legions of angels to walk the earth and minister in love but instead he came to us in the flesh. The Son of God inconvenienced himself to the point of death to demonstrate his love to us. The greatest expression of love was born at Christmas and it lives on through us when we accept the assignment given to us: “Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” 1 John 4:12

Every prayer you have spoken and the generosity of your gifts to NightLight are expressions of God’s love to us. Thank you for your willingness over and over to be inconvenienced by love in order to save and restore the precious women and children we serve here in Bangkok.

May your Christmas and New Year be filled with joy and surprising revelations of God’s love for you and may you be encouraged and inspired as God’s love is expressed through you to a world in need.

Merry Christmas!

Issan, The Source

The green rice fields of the Northeast are enough of a reason to leave Bangkok for a weekend, but we had another goal in mind. NightLight in partnership with Step Ahead and CBN Siam have begun to seek churches in the Northeast of Thailand to join in raising awareness of the true reality of prostitution and in strategies for prevention. The Northeast of Thailand, otherwise known as Issan supplies over 90% of the women that we meet in the bars and on the streets of Bangkok.

In Thailand the daughter carries the burden and obligation of caring for her parents. Most of the women we meet have 6^th grade to 9^th grade education and come from agricultural families. Most married young and were abandoned by their husbands or boyfriends when they were pregnant or their children still very young. When the young woman returns home with children but no support, she increases the burden on her parents. Thailand is a country of honor and saving face and so when the daughter returns home in this condition she feels the shame she is bringing on her family.

Into the Darkness

Faced with insurmountable challenges compounded with shame and obligation, young women from Issan begin to listen to their school day friends who tell of rich foreign men visiting the bars of Bangkok. The lure of quick money to erase the shame is enough to convince the woman the sacrifice is worthwhile for her family’s future security. She chooses what seems like the best and quickest solution among only bad choices, leaves her children behind, makes promises to her parents, and determines to make it in the bars.

Many families these days are aware that their daughters, sisters, mothers are working in the bars and even in prostitution. The women send large amounts of money home sometimes 10 times what could be made in rural areas. When they visit they come with gifts, cash, and even a “rich” foreign boyfriend and the village admires her success. Other women and/or their parents begin to dream of a similar outcome and thefloodgate opens. Now there are villages where most of the daughters are working in the bars of Bangkok. Teenagers are evaluating the benefit of staying in school when they could make more money in the bars than if they finish school and get a regular job. It is becoming all too acceptable to work in the bars.

What people don’t know is the harsh reality that women face in prostitution. They don’t know the arguments that take place between a foreign man and a Thai women when communication and cultural values clash. They don’t know the physical, sexual, psychological, and emotional abuse that takes place to reap therewards of a cash flow to the village. They see the glory; they don’t see the pain and sacrifice that for many leads to self-destruction and even death. As one of our women testified, “I’ve been to hell and I don’t want to go back.”

Bringing the Light

NightLight, Step Ahead and CBN Siam have joined together to go the rural areas of Issan and raise awareness to prevent the trendy flow of women and girls into prostitution. In October wewent on our third trip to meet with churches and leaders and tell the storieswhich expose the harsh reality. This trip was outstanding. We visited two of the women’s families, shared a meal and prayed for them.

Exposing the Darkness

On Sunday afternoon 350 people gathered from 20 churches to learn and to express support of the campaign. After a powerful worship time we began with an activity to sympathize with those who wear labels. Everyone was given a sticker on their backidentifying them as either “policeman,” “mamasan,” (pimp) “prostitute,” “ladyboy,” “foreign customer,” or “Thai customer.” Those with the various labels came forward to share their experience and thoughts about having these labels. It turned out the “policeman” was actually a policeman and had a lot to say about the situation. Even more powerful was when the “pimp” shared that he had been a pimp in Bangkok for several years. His disturbing testimony of the harsh reality was moving and eye-opening. Later a young woman came and shared had worked in the bars of our area until pregnant by a customer and then returning home where she found Christ.

Sharing the Light

Two of our women shared their testimonies at the gathering. Their honesty swept away any remaining deception that this work is acceptable or honorable to women and families.

After some more sharing about

NightLight and our goal for the campaign, the attendees were given profiles of actual lives (names changed) to discuss the issues, challenges, and possible solutions, and then to pray for these women or those who would be in similar situations.

Light Piercing the Darkness

The roar of these prayer warriors brought a breakthrough that will continue to shatter false perceptions long after we are gone. It was a great step forward into partnership to stop the great deceit that prostitution is an honorable choice for the daughters of Thailand. We are encouraged that the churches in the Northeast are burdened and want to partner with us to turn the tide of girls away from prostitution and into dignity and the loving arms of God.

Please Pray: Thank you for the prayers. Please pray for Wii and Oy who bravely shared their stories. It isn’t unusual for the women to come under attack when they begin to testify. Wii’s father was hospitalized just before this event and Oy was hospitalized after the event. They need your covering. Pray for the churches to keep the vision burning and to fan it into flame. Pray for strategies and for readiness to take the message to the heart of the communities. Please also pray for the young woman who admitted she had been in the bars. She has a baby by a foreigner who is now in jail on drug charges. His parents will be coming from Germany to visit and she asks for prayer that they will accept her and the grandaughter. We appreciate your faithfulness and generosity with your time and resources that makes all of this possible! Blessings, Annie Dieselberg NightLight Bangkok www.nightlightinternational.com http://store.nightlightinternational.com/donate.asp http://store.nightlightinternational.com/

]]> http://nightlightinternational.com/uncategorized/issan-birthplace-of-daughters-supplier-for-prostitution/feed/ 0 http://nightlightinternational.com/uncategorized/issan-birthplace-of-daughters-supplier-for-prostitution/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/NightlightBlog/~3/AQ9-pQ95ekE/ http://nightlightinternational.com/uncategorized/ayumi-part-2/#comments Wed, 15 Sep 2010 06:58:41 +0000 nightlightadmin http://nightlightinternational.com/?p=798 Greetings!

This is part 2 of “Ayumi’s” story. (Part 1 sent on Sept. 6, 2010). It is not an easy story with a quick “Happily Ever After Ending.”  This journey with Ayumi has been a difficult one and it is only the beginning. This is the journey we feel called to, not knowing what each day will bring, but knowing that in God there is always hope for a brighter and better day. We are called to love and persevere with hope even against all odds. I sincerely hope you will join us in prayer for this precious boy and contend with us for his future.

Hope

Ayumi thoroughly enjoyed the attention he was getting as the team tried to keep him occupied. Baking was one of the activities he really enjoyed. On Beng’s birthday they made brownies with reduced sugar. Ayumi was concerned about the taste, so when Beng took a bite he quickly asked, “Beng, I put my heart into the brownies, are they good?” Beng answered, “Ayumi,your heart is very good.” Ayumi grinned with satisfaction. Keeping him occupied was a challenge. Finally, a social worker came to meet with Ayumi. They got along well and we were hopeful.

The social worker made an appointment for Ayumi to see a doctor. Ayumi reacted strongly to the news, “I don’t need to see a doctor,” he said. “I’m not sick anymore.” “What will the doctor do to me?” We tried to reassure him that it was nothing invasive. That night he broke down, cried, and admitted he has Thai parents who live in Bangkok. Ayumi was afraid the doctor would turn him over to the government home. The social worker called Ayumi’s parents to come get him. They were not happy about the inconvenience. There were no hugs; no happy reunion. In fact they threatened to send him to the government home if he didn’t behave. The social worker arranged with the parents to take Ayumi for an exam at a psychiatric hospital. She said she would follow up with the family afterward. Ayumi was finally getting help.

Hope Deferred

A few days later, our hearts sank again. Ayumi had run away from the hospital and his mother had sent him to the government shelter he had so feared. We were told we couldn’t visit him for 6 months. In the government’s custody, the social worker could no longer do anything to intervene. Government shelters are crowded and understaffed. Discipline is known to be harsh. A month later, Ayumi ran away again, this time with additional bruises. He showed up on our doorstep in a dress eager for hugs. Once again, a quick change of clothes and activities to occupy him, while we called the social worker. She asked us to keep him a couple nights while she tried to find a place for him. The following morning, Ayumi joined in the singing at worship, glancing behind him to see if he had the attention he wanted. After a bit, he grew somber and lay down. My heart ached with a deep sadness as I cried out to God on his behalf. I looked at his sweet face and noticed tears collecting in his eyes. My staff reached over and gently wiped them from his face. He reached up, grabbed our hands and held on tight.

Back at the office, Ayumi tried on women’s clothes and played computer games while we tried to work and waited anxiously for some news.The social worker called and said she had nothing. I decided then we had no choice but to call his mother and tell her to come get her son. Ayumi’s mom said she wasn’t coming; it wasn’t convenient. Ayumi announced he was going to Japan, took off down the street, and disappeared. After he left, Beng came with news that the social worker may have found a shelter. Ayumi had gone home, but there was hope, if he would stay put for the weekend.

On Monday, the mother signed the necessary documents before heading to the new shelter. Our staff were surprised when a sign at the shelter greeted them, “God bless you.” We were amazed. The housemother had already successfully helped one boy there who would be a friend and encouragement. Ayumi cried when they said goodbye. His mother said, “Never mind he always cries.” She added, “Maybe God will help him.” I wondered how many times this scene has repeated itself.

Immediately I rushed to spread the good news. We were thrilled with the outcome. As if to mock our optimism, however, the phone rang early the next morning. Ayumi had run away the first night. He felt abandoned and betrayed by his mother, who had lied to him promising she would stay there with him. For 24 hours there was no sign of Ayumi.The next day he returned to the shelter on his own. He wants to live at home with his mother, he told them. They gave him a meal, bus fare, and sent him home.

Contending for God’s Promises

Weariness hit us hard that day. The roller coaster ride of hope with a quick dive to disappointment, followed by a turn towards hope again only to enter a dark tunnel, was seemingly out of control. We were strapped in for the ride and we were not enjoying it. One of my staff came in that afternoon with the negative report. “It’s over. There’s nothing more to do. They can’t take him anymore. He doesn’t want to be there.  That’s it for him .. .” “Stop!” I said. “It looks bad, yes, but where is our faith? Is God faithful to his promises? Do we believe God sent this boy to us? Why would God send him to us if not to help him?” She listened and started again, “Yes, but . . .what if . . .they reject . . .what if . . ” Again, I stopped her. “The circumstances contradict the promise but God is faithful to keep his promises.” I encouraged my staff to turn our concerns to prayer. Right there we prayed together for God’s will to be done in Ayumi’s life. We prayed that God would protect this precious boy. We prayed for his parents.

As we finished praying, two staff came running upstairs. “Did you see the rainbow?” The rain had finished and there was a rainbow over our buildings. Beng and I smiled. The rainbow was a sign: God is faithful to his promises.

Ayumi went home and his mother agreed to let him dress like a girl, hoping he would stop running. She doesn’t know what else to do. Ayumi is deeply wounded and he needs help. He has become bulimic so that he can stay slender and feminine. A few days ago he ran away again and is back with us as I write this. Phone calls to his parents, the social worker, and the shelter have all left us dry. It seems no one wants Ayumi; its just too hard. The situation looks bad.

In the midst of all the contradicting circumstances, I still believe that God sent Ayumi to us to rescue him from a life of abuse as a ladyboy in the bars of Bangkok. I choose to believe that God is working and will save Ayumi. Will we contend in faith for the obstacles to be removed and for God’s will to be done? Will you? I hope that you will intercede on behalf of this precious boy. I can’t promise it will be a fun ride. I can’t promise immediate success. I can’t promise there will be no disappointments. I can confidently declare God’s promise:  “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Thank you for prayers and support that make it possible to love the women and children who have been rejected and neglected by so many. If you would like to make a donation to support this effort of love please click here: Donation of Love

It is a difficult journey for many. We count our joys even when all we can do is hold our arms open wide to receive a lost one home again and again. Blessed are you who persevere with us believing and contending for God’s promises.

I invite you to read the following journal about a 14-year-old boy transvestite we have been trying to help the last few months. I share this story with you because it is an honest reflection of the challenges in finding help for people who fall between the cracks of both government and non-profit organizations. I invite you to share in this journey with us and to pray for Ayumi as well as the many others who struggle like him to find a place of belonging, shelter, and love.

Mystery Boy Dancer

“Ayumi,”a 14 year old boy, was dancing on the street in a skimpy girl’s dress, when we met him. His face was masked behind heavy make-up, making him look like a Geisha. “Child, what are you doing?” I asked. He stopped dancing, “I don’t want to do this but I need food.” I glanced around. We were right outside an open beer bar. Men were sitting with bar girls, drinking beer. No one seemed concerned. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Ayumi,” he answered. “That’s not a Thai name. Do you have a Japanese father?” I asked. “Where’s your mother?” “Is she Thai?” “She’s Korean,” he answered, and was vague about her whereabouts. “Do men bother you?” I asked him. Ayumi had some choice words in response and showed us the fresh bruise on his face. We bought him some food and chatted a bit longer. The image haunted us.

After the month of violent protests ended, we went back to the bars for outreach. When it started to rain, however, we ended the outreach early. Heading home, I glanced across the street and saw a familiar figure; there was Ayumi, dancing. I ran to him, “Ayumi, what are you doing back here?” “It’s raining and I have no place to sleep,” Ayumi said somberly. I realized with horror that he was very vulnerable at that moment. I couldn’t walk away. I glanced at the volunteers and they nodded, so I asked him, “Would you like a safe place to sleep tonight?” Ayumi clapped his hands and jumped up and down. At the center he began to jump on the cushions. He saw the guitar and started plucking and singing the Korean hit song, “Nobody, nobody but you.” We tried to get him to eat but he was too excited. He jumped up and hugged us one by one. We gave him a children cartoon Bible and he began to read aloud, page after page. He was a mystery. We didn’t know where to even begin finding help but at least he was safe for the night.

Ayumi’s intelligence was evident. He had an incredible memory and made a note of everyone’s name. He was able to read English and Thai fluently but the only Korean or Japanese he knew was what he mimicked from Korean girl bands. He was evasive about his family. As the days passed, we began to get glimpses of the severe abuse he had been through. In sudden unguarded moments he would let out a rush of graphic information. Once he began to act out the poses he had done for a photo shoot. He knew too much. Ayumi has a vivid imagination and we learned not everything he says is true, but the details of his abuse at the hands of men, was too real to ignore.

Desperate Search for Assistance

Our frustration grew with each day that passed, as organization after organization turned us down. Shelters for abused children were full or refused to accept a young transvestite. He could not stay with boys or he risked further abuse. They couldn’t put him with girls for fear that he might abuse. We knew by law we could not send him out of Bangkok. We couldn’t keep him in the red light area, but neither could we put him out on the street. We were very discouraged and losing hope. Keeping him entertained and occupied so he would not take off down the street was becoming a challenge. He began to have mood swings; one minute he was happily play-feeding a stuffed bear and the next minute strangling it and throwing it to the ground. When asked, “Ayumi, how does the bear feel now?” he answered, “He feels bad.” He picked the bear back up and cuddled it in his arms. He was only acting out what he had experienced. The bear rarely left his arms during his stay with us.

A couple days later, our team was weary. We had not expected it to be so consuming. I encouraged the team to have appropriate boundaries and organize shifts so that none of them would burn out. I was feeling pressure to find a place but coming up with nothing. How easy it is to come starry-eyed, ready to save the world, “God, I want to rescue the children and women. Use me God!” We are not prepared, however for the full time responsibility and the challenges that come once the exciting rescue is over. Desperately, I accepted a board member’s offer. She knew someone who might be able to help. “Give her a try,” I said with doubt. The woman, she told me helped write the laws for child protection and anti-trafficking in Thailand. I reached out for the last straw.

to be continued

Thank you for your prayers and support for Ayumi (not his real name) and for all who seek to help him.

Years ago, God gave me a vision of a center in the red light area of Bangkok. Exactly what that would look like I didn’t know but I had images and ideas. One of those images was a coffee shop with live music played by visiting musicians. The coffee shop would be a place where men visiting the area would be welcome. Yes, – the demand side. We have worked with the women for years and maintain that as our focus. However, we have also come to feel God’s heart for the men who find themselves in the area and are often very broken, lonely, and trapped. Many have been burned by the church and turned away in bitterness. Many have failed in broken relationships and feel doomed to fail time and time again. Some are sex addicts who hate themselves but cannot see the way out. Others are on a journey seeking they don’t know what, and hoping for an experience to give them some revelation of that which they seek. These men come from every nation, every language, and every religion. They are old, young, rich, poor, social elite and social outcast, dogmatically religious, embracing all religion, or in total rejection of all religion. Brokenness, loneliness, and despair are not picky and find their way into the hearts of all types of men. The vision I had was a coffee shop that would welcome these men and give them a place to be heard and to find hope.

God provided the building in the red light area last December. That in itself was a miracle and the first confirmation that this vision was not one I had made up in my imagination but close to God’s heart and part of His agenda.

This past week a team of men from Michigan, Colorado, and Kansas, came to launch the remodeling and building improvements. They worked hard for several days and we began to see glimpses of the vision becoming reality. Their last night here we gathered in the empty room of the future coffee shop. Several on the team were professional musicians and that night, John, on the guitar and Ferl with an improvised drum set, sat facing the street and began to play. The open door was an invitation with no explanation. People walking by paused and did a double-take. A representation of the world walked by: foreign men with Thai prostitutes, European travelers, Uzbek and Russian streetwalkers, Middle Eastern businessmen, and Thai vendors who set down their heavy baskets and waved at us through the window.

The music was passionate, vibrant and yet soothing as it called out to the weary travelers. Many paused, but then went on their way – Until he came. He popped his head around the doorframe cautiously and we beckoned him in. “Can I bring my beer?” he asked. We nodded; the music continued. He entered and stood watching the musicians. As he listened, the music began to reach in beneath the hardened surface. His eyes were red from drinking but the expression in his face softened as he listened. Someone asked, “Where are you from?” He said, “It’s not where I’m from but where I’m going that matters.” He took a couple photos and then showed the picture of his 3 week old son on the back of his camera. John, the guitarist asked, “Can I pray for your son?” “Yeah, sure.” John prayed for the baby and then for the baby’s father. “Thanks.” The man’s eyes were wet and tender. He looked around at us all. “Thank you,” he said again. He lingered a bit more and then as he turned to go, he said, “Thanks for letting me bring my beer into church.”

What gave him the idea this was church? The music the guitarist played would steal any show. We all just sat around, some singing, some chatting, some dancing; mostly just watching the passers by, delighted at their reactions and enjoying the moment. We had no agenda other than to play music, to be present, and to welcome those who found their way in. The man came in with his beer and left feeling good like he had been in church. An open door and excellent music invited him; a listening ear welcomed him; a thoughtful prayer for his newborn son ministered to him. He came in just as he was; curious, cautious, and beer in hand. We may never know his story, why he was here, or where he was going. But, for that brief moment, we saw a glimpse of God’s heart reaching out to this man and to all the men who will come in to the coffee shop in the future. “Come in for coffee; stay for church. Come as you are but don’t leave the same.”

After two divine encounters, the night was still young and we headed to a show bar. This bar is a hard one to visit because of all the nudity and sex shows taking place through the night. Last visit we met a woman who was new and unhappy and we were drawn to return to her.  Fortunately, we found the woman we knew fairly quickly and got caught up in a conversation. When we focus on the women in conversation, the background fades and is less daunting. Beng wasn’t so lucky. The man sitting to her side was “entertaining” a woman by exposing himself. Disgusted and somewhat nauseated, Beng turned her back to them and faced the shows.

I know two of the girls who do the sex shows – lesbian shows. My heart aches when they perform. One I’ve known since she was 15 – dropped out of school to support her siblings’ education. I prayed for the infant daughter of the second when she was critically ill. Sweet young women, dedicated to supporting their families. I look to the stage just long enough to smile at their eyes but not enough to dismantle the invisible masks they wear and cause them to feel embarrassed. They feel lucky because doing the shows means a lot of money without being forced to have sex with the men. It is a choice I am grateful I have never had to make.

The woman sitting with me only makes half what the other girls make because she keeps her bikini on when she dances. After trying for three weeks she really doesn’t like it. She would like to work as a maid or with kids. Her husband of 10 years became so abusive she ran away and reported him to the police. He is still out of jail though and she is careful to stay away from his networks. Now she is stuck with this job to get by. I know we are full at NightLight. I know we don’t have the funds or the space to keep hiring women, but, in faith, I write down our number for her and tell her that she can come by and apply for work if interested. Grateful, she rolled it up and stuck it in her high boots. We gave her a hug, paid our bills and left.

Going down the stairs I feel drops of rain drizzling down. Not enough for an umbrella and not enough to wash away the sadness. Not enough to deter the customers. Sex shows are addictive and even rain doesn’t deter an addict. Money is addictive, especially when your family depends on it and you have no other way of paying your bills. Desperation forces women out to meet the demands of desperate men. An exchange is made for a fantasy that eludes reality and more often than not turns into a nightmare. The rain is only enough to draw attention to the somber and heavy burdens beneath the fluttering neon signs.

The night is still young for those seeking to exchange brokenness for fantasy. The night has been long for the light bearers though. Darkness retreats in the light but dawn is still a long ways away and we are weary. We have met our divine appointments. For a few moments we saw the light interrupt the night’s agenda. A little bit of hope. I glance across the way and see Tom sitting outside the bar conspicuous in his bright yellow jacket. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot master it. His bright yellow jacket is a sign of hope. A few more hours and the darkness will retreat again giving way to the agenda of light.