Seeds of Cape Town

Give ear, and hear my voice; give attention, and hear my speech.
Does he who plows for sowing plow continuously? Does he continually open and harrow his ground?
When he has leveled its surface, does he not scatter dill, sow cumin, and put in wheat in rows and barley in its proper place, and emmer as the border?
For he is rightly instructed; his God teaches him."
- Isaiah 28:23-26

I am so grateful for this promise as we walk out of Cape Town and return to our lives here in the United States. For months we tilled up the ground of Cape Town through prayer, we called out to friends and family and they too tilled up the ground on our behalf. We consistently cried out to Jesus to soften their hearts, and prepare them for the Holy Spirit to come in and move in power... and then in His timing, He taught us which seeds to plant and where to plant them. For each person, it looked different; in the natural, some seeds looked successful, and others not so much.  But the truth is each seed fell where it was supposed to... doing exactly what it was intended to do.

For the mom sitting outside the coffee shop with her two toddler sons and a new baby wrapped around her, reading them illustrated books, appearing to be on her last attempt to hold herself together... the seed was buying her a bundle of flowers and telling her how good of a mom she was. With tears in her eyes, she expressed "oh thank you.... it has been a day."

For Terry, the wealthy elderly woman who hated religion and was angry at God, it was fighting for her in that moment and not backing down from her cold and uninterested exterior. Months of prayer tilled up her soil, and fifteen minutes of investment planted seeds of truth about how good You are and how You are present in all things. How Your heart breaks when bad things happen, but You never leaves us nor forsakes us. You are still there, in that place of darkness. Your response to hurt and pain is hope and love and restoration. Because pain and suffering NEVER get the final word. As our girls stood in the gap and poured out Your love over her, years of built up anger, agreement with lies from hell, and generational curses broke off and fell to the ground. Healing and laughter filled that space, as a once angry woman wept as she held on to the necks of my teammates. Thanking them for their prayers.

For Steph, the attractive, successful, intelligent yet deceived, young business man... the soil was already tilled. Steph was talking about the sex industry and how messed up it is, how angry it makes him that these little girls and young women have never been told that they do not have to do what these men are telling them to do. As I was eavesdropping from only a few feet away, I heard You say, "Cut to the chase, sis." So as I approached him in the middle of the night market, he told me he didn't believe in You. But I proceeded and expressed how much You believe in him and how wild you are about the man that he is. You gave me a word for him... He would be your voice FOR women and TO men... He would speak on behalf of women in Cape Town and across the globe, creating change on their behalf and fighting for reconciliation. I told him that You were going to use him as a mouthpiece to the world of business and politics, and his eyes lit up. I told him he would speak into the lives of other men... men who may be pondering the dark world that so deeply angered him. He drank in every word like a glass of cool water. When I finished, he said, "I receive every word. Thank you so much for coming over to tell me that. And even if we don't believe in the same deity, to me it is all the same. So please know that I am so grateful for your words." I looked at him in the eyes and said, "When you do believe in Jesus, remember that he sent a random American girl across the globe to speak to you in this night market." As I walked out the Holy Spirit so sweetly spoke to me, "Good job, sis. I will complete what I started in Steph." You so sweetly reassured me that your seeds always bear the fruit they are intended to bear.

For Tee-tee and Nic, it was a consistent daily kindness. A crossing of paths in coffee shops, and athletic gear stores. It was a gentle friendship and prayer for healing over injuries. It was meeting for lunch, and stopping by in the afternoon to say hello. It was the vision of them someday playing a significant role in community, the right seeds in their time.

For Sheldon, it was a long lunch and a big tip. It was an invitation to church and an interest in his personal dreams and the things that keep him going. It was a question about the meaning of his name and a spoken word of identity. A strong tower. A place of peace. It was a short moment of looking at each other in the eyes and telling him how much You love him and how you delight in watching him surf... the thing he loves to do. It was a dismantling of "religion", the lie that You are up in the clouds, disengaged and angry... NO. You are enthralled at our beauty, especially fond of each of us. Sheldon had no idea... but now those seeds are taking root.

For the young Muslim med school student, it was the way You moved when she shared her story about Ramadan and her lack of belief but the stronghold of tradition in her family. Your love spoke to her. In that moment, she was heard, understood, and loved regardless. She heard the name of Jesus. Your mighty name that holds immense power. Your name that breaks every chain and defeats deception. That seed will do exactly what you intend it to do.

As we tilled up the ground with our prayers, You taught us which seeds to plant and when to plant them. Many were scattered broadly, but each with intention and purpose. Because Your heart moves on behalf of each one of us individually. You did not mass produce us. There was never an assembly line of face shapes and personalities. You designed us uniquely, forming us in utter seclusion. Knowing each day of our lives... where we would be on Wednesdays, and when we would have babies, and what we would spend the better part of our lives doing... You know all of those things. And you care. So much that you send us overseas to meet others in those moments. You send us overseas, and you send us to the grocery store down the street. You send us to work as engineers, and teachers, and lawyers, and nannies. You create us with an inclination to like certain things and you don't mess up. Ever. You fight for us, and you teach us to plant the right seeds.

Because You delight in who we are, and You are especially fond of each of us.

Sparkle

We just returned from our honeymoon, and it was the best week with Jared... a time to rest and enjoy each other before we came back home to reality and chaos. Toward the end of the trip I wasn't feeling well, and because we were in Mexico, it was difficult to see a doctor. I didn't want to be rushed to the hospital, so I waited until I got home. Turns out, I have a couple infections, but I'm on plenty of meds now and I'm on the mend. All that to say, I've had a lot of time to lay on the couch and think over the past few days...

There's a new song called Fight Song by Rachel Platten and it's currently on repeat through my speakers. She says, "like a small boat on the ocean, sending big waves into motion... like how a single word can make a heart open... I may only have one match, but I can make an explosion."
Perhaps we all need that as a reminder today...

As I sat on the plane home a couple nights ago I was reading the newest issue of the Darling Magazine... I highly recommend it. The opening page is a letter from the editor and she suggests there is a spark inside each of us. And just like a bonfire, there are times when it's tough to fan the flame. It isn't always easy to keep the fire going, and often times we let the mundane creep in and we spend our days going through the motions. We resemble zombies... we walk around without purpose, pursuing careers that we don't find meaning in. Perhaps it's bold, but maybe it isn't the office job or the ins and outs of motherhood that are keeping us from fanning the flame, perhaps it's the way we view ourselves within those bounds. We forget that we have purpose and that it won't pursue itself.

I'm a dreamer, and for years I've been praying over my first baby girl, Millie. There are a million things that I want her to know about the world around her, and the role that she plays inside that world. I want her to know that she is worthy, and perfectly designed... that her crazy, frizzy, bouncy curls are beautiful... that she's a fighter for the millions of girls around her that can't fight for themselves... that her mistakes do not define her... that she was created with every shade of color...  that it's okay to be deep and complex and to ask questions... and it's also okay to be witty and find humor and whistle through life... I want her to know that the King of Kings hand picked her for her time in history, and no one else can do what she was sent here to do. If she likes art, I want her to create out-of-the-box masterpieces, because that's what she is. If she wants to play sports like her daddy, I want her to know that she can compete with the boys... that being a girl isn't a handicap, but a privilege. I want her to know that she has a voice to speak among men. I pray that whichever path she chooses, or the many throughout her life, she will use her spark to light something within the people around her. I pray that her joy will be contagious, and her spirit will be like a well of living water that others are drawn to. She may be a tiny piece of this world, but I pray that she brings a big boom... knowing deep within her soul that she was created with a purpose to be Jesus to the world.

Thankfully, I have a mom that instilled all of that within me. Of course there are moments when I forget those things, but she's quick to remind me. I want to remind you all of that today. Perhaps you've never heard any of those things, and you find yourself going through the motions to pay the bills and put food on the table. Or maybe your husband or wife walked out on you and your kids and you have no idea which way to turn or what to do... perhaps you took a leap of faith, and you're still waiting for God to hold up his end of the bargain... maybe you need to be reminded that you deserve to be treated like you're the prize. You might be like a little boat on the ocean, but you have the potential to make big waves, and God has not forgotten about you.

If you already know those things, it's time for you to wake up and walk in it. It's time for you to reach out to the girl next to you and remind her that she isn't in this one alone. Use your spark to fan the flame in someone else. One word can change everything. Speak life into her. Ask her about her story. Listen to what she has to say. Don't be afraid to say you're sorry. Don't be afraid to make things right. Our time here is so limited, but we are here on purpose and we must be for each other.

The Great Robin Williams once said, "You've been given only a little spark of madness, you musn't lose it."

Fan the flame.

Black and White

My heart seems to be like a puzzle lately... Although there are parts of me that are wild with jagged edges, they have a place within the big picture. I learn more about myself each day, and I discover parts of me that were created so uniquely that I never knew existed... perhaps these depths of me hadn't been brought to the surface until now for a reason.

I describe myself as bold... sometimes confrontational, often loud, and never afraid to speak up for what I believe in. But these days, some of those characteristics have taken a backseat to a quiet tolerance... creating room for others to explore the freedom in finding themselves. Perhaps there are things about the world, about myself, about God that I haven't yet figured out or even stumbled upon... things that turn up like gold in places I didn't know existed.

I'm beginning to find my voice and my heart in relation to the feminist movement... determined to make the world a better and safer place for every woman on the planet. I get angry about oppression and I believe I am just as capable as the man next to me. I believe I am capable of speaking to the House or the Senate and writing and passing bills... I believe I am capable of creating an enterprise or an organization with fresh ideas and the guts to run with it... I believe I am capable of writing books and standing on stages and leading people... even men. In fact, I believe I was created to do those things. But I'm beginning to see the black and white contrast of life. Of course, I believe God created me with big plans in mind, and in my mind, those big plans looked a lot like the things I just listed. But as a woman, and a future wife, Jesus is revealing to me a new vision for my life... I am beginning to learn the vast responsibility and privilege Jesus entrusted me with. I am learning that Jared is the greatest gift I've been given on Earth, and it's my duty and my joy to be his helper... that my beauty is in contrast to his strength... that he will be the leader of our home, and that we will experience this life together... with him offering his insight and me offering mine. He is now my first priority, and it's my number one job to be his biggest fan and the wind in his sails; to respect him and honor him and to remind him that he's the man.

In all transparency, I'll admit there have been seasons in relationships where the idea of submission felt more like fear... I would think, "but I have a lot to offer..." and "Does this mean I have to walk away from my dreams to support his?" but let me tell you something I heard about a year ago...

Who you are and what God planned for you when He laid the foundation of the Earth has little to do with who you choose to be with. Don't misunderstand, He directs our steps and He leads us throughout this life... But I was created to go into the darkest parts of the world and set captives free through the truth of Jesus; to remind those girls that they were made for more; to breathe the life back into their bones. I know this is what Jesus had in mind when he made me, and it's okay that Jesus had something far different in mind when He created Jared. Just the same as Jared can't sit me down in his office and teach me all about engineering and pipelines and oil and gas and expect to turn me loose and watch me succeed, I can't take him to the middle of the Red Light District and expect him to get in there and be passionate about the issue... because we weren't created to be the exact same. We were created to complement each other and cheer for each other, to hope for the other to rise in all that we do, and to walk through the mountains and valleys side-by-side.

Maybe life isn't all that simple. Maybe we are all a little more complex than we think. I wonder what life would be like if we weren't afraid to test those limits; if we dared to contradict ourselves sometimes... to admit that we don't have all the answers; to say that girls can do all the same things as boys, and yet we can also be their beautiful, contrasting, counterpart.

Those puzzle pieces have their place in the big picture, and figuring out where they fit is part of the adventure. I'm ever-evolving and falling more in love with Jesus and wondering if perhaps He has more up his sleeve... maybe life is not all that black and white. Perhaps it's possible to be his number one cheerleader and still change the world. I know that it's possible, and I know that's what Jesus intended for us.

You were created for adventure. There will be seasons of chaos and heart break and confusion and you will need other people. You will feel pulled to certain things and your heart will break for causes that far exceed your reach and you'll wonder what you can do to make the world a little better. You can make the world better. Whether you're a mom, or an artist, or a congressman or woman, an attorney, a pastor, an engineer, a lobbyist, a hair stylist, a nurse, a football coach, a student, a teacher, a therapist, or all of those things at once... maybe life isn't black and white. Discover the wild pieces of your soul and be brave enough to explore them. Dare to push the limits... We need you around here. 

You're Safe Here

Donald Miller released his new book Scary Close: Dropping the Act and Finding True Intimacy yesterday, and I haven't been able to put it down since I left Barnes and Noble. He is vulnerable and honest and he invites his audience to get in the game of truly being known by others. He has this idea that if we can learn to stop performing for others, we might just connect with them. Perhaps we would discover the meaning of relationship when we begin to walk in transparency... and although this is a terrifying idea, I think it's also the window to freedom and abundance.

I was sitting in class yesterday, thinking about the book, and listening to my professor talk about justice and liberty for our people and as I began to write down a few thoughts my fingers got carried away...

There is no true freedom without you, Jesus. There are chains and hell-holes and hate and fear and captivity. Ashes surrounding us. But you trade your beauty for our ashes. You take away our filth and give us new identity. You are gentle, and you handle us with care because you created us in your own image and you knew that's exactly what we would need. But somehow, somewhere along the way we became self-righteous. We have become more concerned about what we are against than what and who we are for. Your simple instruction was to love you, and then to love our neighbors, but instead we tear people down because they are "sinful"... and we do it in your name. Which doesn't make sense, because it does not follow the example you set for us. When my identity read "sinner" you laid down your life for me. You found a way to exchange my scarlet sin for your purity. The stripes on your back, the spit in your face and the ridicule you endured were simply part of the sacrifice you made for me. But instead of taking up our own crosses, we crucify the people around us for the very things you already died and rose again for... for their beliefs, for their behavior, for their weaknesses, for the thorns in their side. 

You didn't do that. In fact your response to our thorns is grace... abundant grace that runs so much deeper than our sin. We have royally screwed the up the instruction to sharpen one another like iron sharpens iron... instead, we take our swords and try to cut out the ugly parts in our neighbors while forgetting about the log in our own eye. 

Sometimes there are quiet seasons between you and I... but there is one thing you taught me this summer that resounded like a bull horn -- "Woo out their new nature. Tell them what you see in them... and then tell them again. Because their old sinful self does not need to be ridiculed, or crucified, or corrected by you... I already took care of that part. It's finished. Whisper life into those dry bones, nurture them back to life." 

If we are honest with ourselves, we all have a thing or two that we don't like other people to know... we lead bible studies, and go to church, and spend our summers overseas. We study subjects that will prepare us to change the world, yet we keep our scarlet covered up and instead of connecting with people, we begin to perform. I do not believe this is the way life was intended. We don't begin to heal until we feel safe with those who surround us. There is a desperate need for healing around here, and somehow we all act as thought we have it all together. We cannot experience life in abundance if we choose to live life alone. Life was never intended to be lived alone.

There's a part in Scary Close where Don is talking about struggling with a specific relationship and feeling like a failure... He has broken her heart, and it was time to end the relationship... but he's too scared to do it. He begins to wonder if he will ever find the right girl, and if he does, will he be able to keep her around... he talks about the bottle of whisky hidden behind his bible, and he suggests that he's become stagnant in his career but also with others. His friend Bob calls him every single week to check in on him, and every single week Bob tells him, "Ya know, Don... You're good at relationships." Bob gives Don examples every now and then, but the message Bob is presenting is clear: No matter what Don has done, he is still good at relationships. Bob didn't tell him that he needed to get his act together, or to stop drinking whiskey, or to pull himself out of the pit... he simply whispered life into dry bones, and eventually those words began to resonate in Don's soul. He started to believe the truth about himself, and the rest of those things fell in order. 

Perhaps you're struggling right now, and you're afraid to open yourself up and tell others about your mess because you feel the shame... let me tell you something: You are good at relationships. Your depression does not define you. You were created for a specific part of this story that God designed and it would not be complete without you. I promise there is grace that abounds, and you're not too far from it. Be courageous. Open your heart and invite someone in, and just maybe you'll get a taste of what you were intended for. 

If you know someone who is struggling, chances are they need to exchange their ashes for beauty, and perhaps your role is to remind them who are without judgement or an agenda. Chances are, they don't need to be reminded that they're lost... they need to be reminded where they're headed. Maybe its countercultural, and I'd even go as far to say that it's backwards from the way the church does it... but it's absolutely the way Jesus does it. His kindness is what brings us to our knees. 

I dare you to step back and think about your role in the lives of the people around you. Start sharpening others by woo-ing out their new nature. Tell them what you see in them. By doing so, you disarm them and create a safe place for healing to happen. After all, Jesus came for the sick. 

Audience

She was seventeen when she met the man of her dreams... or so she thought. He was handsome and independent, and he offered her something that was appealing: freedom. She was shy and innocent when she first met him, but she quickly found herself adapting to his expectations. Soon after they met, they were married... and in the 1970s, wives couldn't testify against their husbands. She was forced into the porn industry by her own spouse, and she was referred to in the media as "the face of the sexual revolution." Her film brought in over 300 million dollars; however, she never saw a penny of it. She was beat, sold, raped and dehumanized over and over again. To the outside world, she appeared to be happy and content with her vocation; but six years later, she came out with the truth of what happened to her. She was married to her oppressor for three years. In terms of marriage, three years doesn't sound long, but in terms of captivity, it might as well have been a lifetime. She tried to escape 4 times, only to be returned to her captor by her mother, her friends, and even the police. Because of her fame in the industry, her story wasn't taken seriously. The media didn't believe her, the police didn't believe her.... women didn't believe her. Guns were put to her head when she refused to comply. She was exploited in front of millions, and still the world lined up to see for themselves.   She was a prisoner in her own home. I want you to understand the weight of her story.

Because the truth is, her story deserves an audience. Her story is the story of millions of women around the globe. Millions of women are held captive by their husbands, or pimps, or circumstances. Because of their "choice" of work, they are ignored and discarded. These women are walking among us, and we do not even see them. We don't hear their cry for help, because their voices are muted.

The question is often, "why don't they just leave...?" In Oklahoma, 95% of women who are killed by men are killed in their attempt to escape. If they leave, they are risking their lives; if they stay, they are risking their lives. This is a disgusting reality, but it's currently the world we live in... we have to do something about this. We have to be the ones who stand up on their behalf.

Her life is valuable, simply because she was created perfectly by the Almighty God. He created her and envisioned a life of beauty and abundance. Even if no one else saw it, she was precious to Him. Nothing that she did, and nothing that was done to her was too much for Jesus. He loved her... He loved her.

Her story deserves an audience, not only because of what she's endured, but because she's a human being.  You, too, have a story; and you, too, deserve an audience. No matter where you're at, your story matters. What has happened to you in the past, does not define where your life is headed. The cool thing about hope is that it's the belief that there's something better ahead. My friend Ali says, "hope is born in the darkness and spends a lot of it's life being the only light in the room." The truth is we live in a heavy world, and most times it seems to be filled with despair, but even on those days, even in those minutes, hope remains.

It's just like to Jesus to take the rotten and turn it into gold. He took all those things that you've endured on the cross, and then He proclaimed, "it's finished." That's the hope. Yes, there's darkness, but the darkness will never overcome the light.

Find a safe place and don't be afraid to speak up - because I promise, someone is waiting to stand with you. You deserve to be known, and when you speak up the chains of captivity loosen. Your life matters. It doesn't end in the darkness... light remains, and your story deserves and audience.

She's Worth More

It's been an incredible journey through Thailand over the past couple months, and honestly a bit surreal that it's coming to a close. There's been days that felt like minutes, and moments that completely stopped the hands of time. There were nights that I've never felt more alive, and nights that I've wished to be far from the cold darkness that engulfed these streets. At times, I believed I had never had a more life-giving community, and other times I felt like my heart had been lost in the masses, completely misunderstood. There was moments of pure joy and hysterical laughter, and moments of terrifying spiritual warfare. We were a group of 20 American girls, walking through our own crap, but coming together as the body of Christ to illuminate the darkness in Chiang Mai... and I truly believe we did that.

Looking back, I see a shift in our ministry about half way through our time here. From the beginning, the bar moms, girls, men and pimps could immediately tell we were different. We walked into empty bars, ordered a couple sprites, and asked a few girls to play pool with us. They would ask us what we were doing in Chiang Mai and we would tell them we were here on vacation and were teaching English at a local college. Then we would come back with small talk questions, "what's your name?" "where are you from?" "how long have you been here?" in hopes to build some sort of foundation for a new friendship. Many of these conversations did turn into friendships! and my friends spent much of their two months investing in specific girls, teaching them English, taking them to lunch, singing karaoke, exploring waterfalls and ultimately sharing their own stories with them.

In the beginning, my heart was hard toward the men we found there... the sex industry is supply and demand at it's finest... these men were the very ones who were fueling the industry. If there wasn't a demand, maybe these girls would be in school. But whatever animosity once stood between me and those men, soon became a burning desire for them to be set free from their own captivity.

We no longer only looked for quiet bars with a few lonely girls... instead we entered booming bars with loud men and rampant personality. At this point, the bar moms, the men and our new friends knew us. The girls would see us walk in, and immediately get up from the men they were entertaining to greet us with open arms. The bar moms would ask if we wanted a couple sprites, and the men told us we were "brave" for coming to such a place. This time, we no longer told them about our vacation or the schools we were teaching at... we told them about our heart for these girls, and our desire to see them set free from those bars. We told them that those girls were our friends, and we loved them so we came to visit them. We looked at the men as if they were something special as well... as if they were worth knowing, because they are. Because for whatever reason, they believed the lie that they could escape their sorrow and misery back home and find fulfillment from the alcohol and women in the red light district. But when they met us, they encountered something different. We no longer had a passive mindset toward these men, rather I was desperate to tell them who they could be.

Each night our team split into two groups. Nine of us would hit the streets, while the other 11 of us would stay back and intercede. We prayed for opportunities to speak the name of Jesus, we asked for men to get up and walk out of the bars, we prayed for vision and peace to overwhelm our teammates so they could have meaningful conversations without fear of anything seen or unseen. We prayed that the men would notice we were different and approach us to find out why....

 I'll never forget the night I met my friend Peter from Ireland. He was around my dad's age... and I immediately noticed him when we walked in. I was at the pool table playing a game with my friends Da and Gale and suddenly Peter walks past me toward the bathroom. We made eye contact and I smiled, and then kept playing pool with my friends. A few minutes later, Peter comes walking out the bathroom and this time he stops to talk to me. First, he asked me where I was from and then proceeded to compliment how beautiful my expression was... he said he had never seen anything like it. He told me that I wasn't just pretty.... but radiant. I didn't feel
uncomfortable or violated, because it honestly seemed pure - like he was truly in awe, and this was the opportunity I had been praying for... He said, "you must be blessed by Buddha or the gods or something..." but I told him it was Jesus. He looked at me for a couple seconds in silence, and then added a few more compliments and told me he was going back to his friends at the bar, but that it was nice to meet me and that he hopes I enjoy my time in Thailand.... I'm not sure what happened in his mind for those few seconds of silence, and perhaps I will never see Peter again... but he encountered something different that night, and that is why I came to Thailand.

I came for those men just as much as I came for those women. My heart aches for my girls in there, because I've seen their suffering and I've heard their pleas for help. They don't want to be there. They don't want to strip down to barely nothing, and expose themselves for the pleasure of a man. There's no safety, or purity or dignity in that. They dream of a man who will pursue them and love them and cultivate them, just the same way I do. They want to learn English so they can get a good job, and support their families. They want to believe that tomorrow will be better.... but first they need us to stand up on their behalf. They need Godly men to set the example... these women are being manipulated and abused because we are standing by and indulging in our own desires.

Men, the porn industry fuels the supply and demand... when you think that a couple clicks aren't going to hurt anyone, there are women who are forced to engage against their will, and instead of rescuing them, we are tightening their chains. This is a desperate call for you to wake up. Millions of young women are exploited day in and day out and we need men, along with women, to rise up and call for justice. Get educated on the subject. Ask questions. Find someone to hold you accountable, because the truth is that she's worth so much more than a half-hearted habit. That same habit that requires nothing of you, requires every fiber of her being and every ounce of her heart. She is a human being. She was perfectly created for a purpose. She was made in God's image and she was bought with the blood of Jesus. She's a daughter of the Most High King... and she's waiting for us to go get her; to do something about this.

Rise up. She's worth more. 

Roses and Rays of Hope

Mere, Mel and I stood downstairs at our hostel before we took the streets and we gathered in prayer to prepare our hearts for the Red Light District, but also to prepare the Red Light District for us. Each one of us prayed for a specific thing. Mel prayed for the little kids who often wander around the RLD, in and out of bars, selling roses and necklaces. She prayed that the cycle that these kids have grown up in will end with them. They will not stay in the RLD forever, because that's not what God intended for them. She prayed that they would be drawn to us, and that we would be able to offer them a ray of hope... I prayed for the people along the streets... the ones with darkness in their eyes. The ones who look like they really aren't there at all. I prayed that Jesus would open my eyes to them, and that I could love them where they were, however that looked to Him. Mere asked Jesus to give her a word or a picture... some kind of direction for the night. She got the word "flower" and then we set off for the night with wide eyes and full hearts.

As we walked down the street, a few girls waved to us and asked up to come in and sit down. So we ordered a coke for each of us, and then one extra for the girl who would sit with us. We asked her to play a game, and she sat down for a few games of Connect Four but it was obvious that she wasn't interested in us. Immediately after she got up to tend to the men in her bar, a little boy approached us (cue Mel's prayer). He was offering single roses for 20 baht, so I bought one and asked him to play me in Connect Four. He kicked my butt 3 times before giving up on me and asking Mere to play with him. We offered him the extra sprite we ordered, and I reveled in the moment because he was operating in his 10-year-old nature. His feet were kicked up, he was sipping on a sprite, and he was laughing at how bad we were at a silly game. It was a ray of hope for him, even if only for a moment.

We paid for our drinks and then walked down the street toward our next destination. The next bar is one of my personal favorites. My sweet Friend, N, is the bar mom at this bar and we immediately connected a few weeks ago when I went to her bar for afternoon bar ministry. She's around 50 years old, and she refers to herself as "mom" because she's in charge of so many girls. She's also as quiet as a mouse... often times I can't communicate with her because she's so soften spoken. However, despite the language barrier and the lack of volume, I love every minute spent with her.

 

We sat down and ordered a couple cokes and a water and played jenga with a few girls in her bar. Mostly we took pictures and hugged... easy for you to understand why we might be friends. Then suddenly our little boy from the previous bar was standing behind us, giving us pointers on how to win the game! He followed us from one bar to the next because he loved being around us... he was drawn to us. I'm praying that we get to see him again. While we were playing, a woman selling bouquets of roses approached me, so I bought a handful of roses and I knew this was a tangible way to love on people on the streets.  Then we kissed N goodbye, and promised to come back for her. Something in stirring in that place, and I love watching it with my own eyes.





We thought the word "flower" that Jesus gave Mere might have been the dozens of roses that were around us... the roses we bought from the woman, the roses the little boy was selling, the rose scarf N was wearing, her rose print fingernails, the rose tattoo on her shoulder.... it seemed to be a running theme. But it didn't end there. As we walked down the street, we came across a new bar... it had a different atmosphere than the ones around it. There weren't any girls sitting outside trying to lure us in, there weren't any men in the bar at all... 4 Thai girls sat at the bar and giggled while they talked with one another.... We looked up at the sign and it read, "The Rose Bar." It took us about half a second for us to decide to go in and sit down. We picked a booth in the far back of the bar, and one girl came to take our order but otherwise they left us alone. We chose to use that time to pray over the Rose Bar and N and the little boy and the RLD and Chiang Mai... Hope was being restored for that place in the form of a group of white girls, and Jesus was certainly up to something.

While we were talking and praying together, I felt like Jesus was telling me to pray for N's voice... literally and symbolically. She is a bar mom, so she has power of the girls in her bar. They watch her and look up to her and she sets the standard for the girls. So I began to pray that she would literally speak up, so that I could begin to have real conversations with her... conversations that would bring hope and healing and truth. Then I began to pray that she would catch on those things and that she would be the light in the darkness for those people. She would be the voice for those girls, and that through her testimony, hundreds of girls would leave those bars. I prayed that she would be like a roaring lion in that place, that her voice would call for change. Shortly after that, the song "Roar" came through the speakers and the lyrics literally say, "I am a champion, and you're going to hear me Roar, louder than the lion." I love when Jesus speaks through Katy Perry ;)

We left that bar with hope and joy... and as we passed out our flowers to the women on the streets, we saw their eyes light up. Someone had noticed them... someone saw that they existed, and every girl loves flowers.

When we met up with our teammates back at the hostel to debrief, one group of girls had a very different experience. She had a hard conversation with a girl who spoke of the darkness she was living in. She described, in detail, the heaviness of her life. She was working 2 jobs so she could send money back to her son who was living with her parents hours away from Chiang Mai... she had contemplated and attempted suicide twice, and she said, "who would ever want me?" ... As our team members sobbed as they told us of the way they poured their hearts into this girl... They cried to God for freedom for this girl... because the truth is, Jesus wants her. She is precious to him... and it is not about what she's done or seen or what has happened to her. It was never about that, and it never will be about that. It's about grace, and hope and healing and renewal.

My friend Jamie talks about how life is Heavy and Light, and it's okay to be honest and real about it. Sometimes we dance through life and rejoice, and other times we cry and hurt and question. The reality is that each day is different for each of us, and when we through life we never truly know what we might get. There will be days of hard conversations and moments that break our hearts, and there will be moments of hope and light in the darkest places. I won't stop hoping for this place. I won't stop going into the bars and bringing the light with me. I won't stop praying for the men to leave, and I won't stop believing that those girls see something different in me. I love them, and I want, so badly, to walk through the heaviness and through the light with them.

This is why we are here. Maybe you're not stuck in the bars... maybe you live in America and you live a nice life, or maybe you're wondering how life turned to hell so quickly. It's okay to feel those things, and it's okay to be honest about it. There is hope and restoration, and when we expose the darkness to the light, the darkness loses all it's power. The light is coming to the RLD in Chiang Mai, and I believe it's coming for you too, wherever you might be.

Speak up. The light wins. Hope is coming.