“MyLover, He came to find me….

He walked right up to me.

But I did not recognize Him.

He tread gently the stony path to my heart.

But it was hard, and after He had passed by

The ground there was not soft enough

to even remember His footprints.

GOD…I give you full access to my heart, my mind, my soul

I invite you to roam, to reign

 freely there

I want the ground you tread

even in the most remote, unknown places of my heart

To relent

Surrendered

to you

So that every ENCOUNTER i have with You

Leaves an IMPACT

Leaves me transformed, ruined, changed

More like You.

photograpy credit too: http://inlinethumb12.webshots.com/44299/1305493375060755676S600x600Q85.jpg

The White Lotus...also being sold. Yet symbolic of purity and REDEMPTION.

read this

Even a child, whether or not given a choice, can in some way defend themselves…can put up something of a fight…

But a newborn…whose only instinct is to trust…is sold: not only helpless but oblivious, naïve, innocent and unaware.

Last week at the home I volunteer at, one of the women I had just done a prenatal on gave birth…we found out a few days later that the baby had been sold. The very same baby I had just felt between my hands…cradled safely in his mothers womb as he anticipated the first time he would see his mothers face. The very same baby I had quietly prayed over in my mind as I gently checked his position and reassured his mother that all was well. The very same baby whose heart beat danced to a drum and brought delight to his mother as she listened…her head tilted tentatively as she strained to hear it then eyes came to life and she beamed with timid joy when she recognized its sound.. .

And we both smiled as we marvelled…at life. At this little ones life and the miracle it represented.

But was I a fool?…ignorant in this moment of one of life’s few remaining untainted and pure pleasures…seeing things only as they should be, how they would be…if not for corruption, desperation, injustice, poverty and greed. I do not and can in no way judge her as a mother…for who am I to say that I fully understand her plight, her desperation, her rationale.

But still, my heart grieves for the little one…and it is true, I do not understand. I will never understand. Because this injustice can never be justified.

The baby boy was found to have a hole in his heart and was sold for $300 to a man that promised to arrange for a surgery. But I was also told of the horrendous reality that is more often the case in this repeated scenario. I cannot even find it in myself to write them here.
Rather than point a finger or evaluate where lies the blame my response and responsibility is to offer the women that this mother represents alternatives to trafficking…alternatives to abortion…

If not for this one I never actually met…

Then for all the others he represents that are sold every day.

life and let it be

(set apart), Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days,
let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands and let them move
at the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be
swift and beautiful for Thee.

Take my voice and let mesing
always, only for my King.

Take my lips and let them be
filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold
not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect and use
every power as You choose.

Take my life, its ALL for Thee

It is important, I believe, to consider who or what we are actually fighting against as we fight for justice. As equally essential as it is that the girls we fight FOR have a face, have a name… I believe it is equally important to recognize who/what is actually responsible….

to ensure that we don’t raise our swords against the mere messenger of injustice (however hideous his account).

Working with victims of the trafficking industry it is easy (natural even) to point a finger immediately at the paedophile, the pimp, the business man that frequents a brothel…but what good are these accusations now? What do they accomplish in our favour? Does the pointing finger accomplish justice?…or does it just add to the complexity of this web of blame, anger, mistrust, hatred and fear.

It seems only natural that working in aftercare we ‘take sides’ with the rescued girls and begin to adopt (subtly at first) the victim vs. perpetrator… prey vs. predator… perspective. Their emotions and memories are still raw from the trauma they have experienced and their stories are still told in fresh fear, grief, hatred, and bitterness. In response, my heart grieves and churns for justice and for revenge. I find myself coming to similar conclusions as them rather than directing this hatred toward the actual perpetrator in disguise.

(something God started putting on my heart back in perth…cut out of an old email..)

“”We only love God as much as we love the one that we love the LEAST”..

.I’ve been so challenged lately with that: do I love the pimp as much as the prostitute?, the paedophile as much as the abducted child, the abuser as much as the abused….HOW CAN I SAY I LOVE GOD IF I DO NOT LOVE THE ONE HE LOVES??? “”

His love is NOT exclusive, has NO boundaries, is not partial to a particular gender, race, personality type, or socio economic status. How can I claim to love these girls and then in the same breath turn around and despise the broken man ‘victimizes’ her.””

With all this, I’ve been thinking more about the demand that feeds the sex industry. Somewhere, at home, there is a love deficit in marriages and relationships that lures the lonely man to the exotic streets of SE Asia. In hopes of finding that love…or at least a moment of cure in the denial of self gratification. But these men that scavenge the streets…the fathers, husbands, businessmen, doctors, lawyers…as hideous and wretched their crime are somehow in the same boat as you…as me…and are equally loved by God. His love puzzles me and shames the inadequacies of my own love.

So who is responsible? Where lies the blame?? I realize most of us are aware of the roots of evil and that our battle is ultimately against the prince of deception and the distorter of truth…the mastermind of bondage and brokenness. He never has played by the rules…and today is no exception.

We have a sword you guys, we have the truth, AND our generation is an army stirring from a deep sleep all around us. We need to RISE up and OPEN our mouths! God is leading us into battle. We’ve been dormant, complacent, and passive far long enough.

Often after writing many words, as I have done today, I stop and wonder…what was it, actually, that I was trying to say??

I am trying to say…that my heart is stirred more and more…to spend less time trying to analyse the trafficking situation… the symptoms of injustice… and to spend more time

Praying.

(not to lessen in any way the validity and importance of research and awareness…this is a HUGE part of advocacy AND even of effective prayer. It just loses its effectiveness if that’s ALL i do)…

What kind of a doctor would spend his life exploring the etiology of a disease only to die without knowing the cure…Every doctor knows that you will only recognize disease or understand its specific most effective cure if you first know what ‘healthy’ looks like.

That’s why, after weeks immersed in this injustice, my hearts cry is to seek God’s face. And to

advocate on my knees

on behalf of the girls whose stories I have heard. In know way is that where it all ends.

I’m suggesting that that is where it needs to begin.

A thought::: intercession IS advocacy.

more than one mans story:: From MST project (ministry to Male Sex Tourists), Bangkok Thailand. Visit their prayer site: 

http://issuu.com/mstproject/docs/prayerguide

–Ammon Hennacy (Catholic activist 1893-1970)

[adaptations in parenthesis]