An Unforgettable 10 Days

Tonight is our last night in Bangkok. Very early tomorrow morning, we board a plane back to America, land of the free. Back to our cushy existence. Back to celebrate the holidays with family and friends. Back to living a life where the simple act of walking down the sidewalk doesn’t break our hearts daily.

This week has been unforgettable. Indescribable. Inspiring. Heartbreaking. I’m at a loss for proper adjectives to sum it all up, but here are some of the things from the past 10 days that will be imprinted in my memory forever:

-This scene, played out a hundred times before our eyes of a young Thai girl, being approached and ultimately purchased by an older Western man.

In particular, this scenario we witnessed at McDonalds of all places (yes, they really are everywhere) involved a very old man with a hunchback and a young, attractive Thai girl….or at least what he thought was a young, attractive Thai girl. This is the one time our team actually laughed at seeing this, because in this case, this girl is actually a boy—a lady boy, and this old creeper clearly has no idea. Joke’s on him.

-A realization that an immense amount of life is conducted on the streets here. From beggars to street vendors, prostitutes to children, dogs to cats, life in Bangkok literally unfolds on the sidewalk—and that’s just on Soi 4. We were also surprised and kind of impressed with how many of these same people and animals could sleep just about anywhere.

-Creating relationships with the girls living at Beginnings was perhaps the highlight of our time here.  These girls and women are the definition of what it is to find new life in Christ. From darkness to light, dead to alive, they are all at once childlike and wise, naïve and mature, loving and inspirational. One girl that I got to spend a lot of time with this week came up to me after the last Christmas party, wrapped her arms around me and in her heavy Thai dialect said, “I love you, Jo.” I nearly melted into the floor. At just 18, she has experienced more life, more pain, and on the flip side, more freedom than most people will in a lifetime. I love her so dearly.

-On the night of Nana Plaza’s party, I squeezed into a cab with six girls we were able to free from one bar. They chatted like girlfriends do, playfully teasing each other and laughing the whole way to the party. One spoke English quite well and explained that this was the first time since they began working in the bars that any of them had ever all been able to go somewhere together outside of work, just for fun. This normal act of “girls’ night out” that we Americans take for granted was a first for them, and excitement spilled out of them as a result.

-The simplest presentation of the gospel can and will still change lives everyday. We witnessed a pretty basic message about Jesus from Pastor Nikorn on both nights of the parties and, in return, also saw dozens of hands raised in acceptance. Sometimes we forget as American Christians that you don’t need flashy lights, hip videos, and cool church environments to get the message across. Don’t get me wrong—those things are fantastic. But the gospel has spoken for itself, plain and simple, for centuries—and it still works just as well in 2011 as it did in 200 A.D.

Last but not least, what impacted me heavily this week, and will continue to as we go into the holidays is that these girls will work on Christmas Day. And New Year’s Day. And nearly very day in between. So many in the bars have young children, yet they will be with old, drunk men, as one girl put it to me so vividly, on the day they should be sharing presents with their family and babies. As I unwrap presents with my young daughter in just a few days, it will be impossible not to think of these girls who have to sacrifice their bodies and dignity every day.

The most difficult thing about leaving Thailand is that there is so much left to be done here—so much freedom left to give. It seems impossible at times. The heartbreak on a daily level is almost too much to handle. But as Bonita wisely pointed out, God sees it all simultaneously, and it breaks His heart too. And He is bigger than any bondage man can put us in.

So, as I prepare to leave and return to a life that can only be described as pampered, I will carry with me the names and faces of these beautiful girls. I can speak for the team when I say that we will not and cannot forget them. What we’ve witnessed here is burned into our minds, and our anger against the injustice and our passion to free them will not quickly or easily be doused. These 10 days at Beginnings are literally only the beginning of the freedom story we hope to write in Bangkok and around the world through Brentwood, Freedom 4/24 and individuals who are also ready to join in the war against sexual slavery.  We pray that God will use our fight to multiply the 12 women at Beginnings a hundred times over.

Until next time, Bangkok, our hearts will remember your darkness, your people, and the hope that is still so evident in spite of it all.

Christmas Party Recaps

When was the last time you had to defy your boss, risk your physical safety and flee a scary place just to go to a Christmas party? I dare say that all of us would say, “Never.”

Over the past two nights, that was perhaps the one thing that stuck out to us the most–how much some of the girls were willing to risk just to be at our parties and to hear the truth that can set them free for more than a night.

Let me explain: Of the 130+ women we were able to pay to get out of the bars at Soi Cowboy on Wednesday night, 17 of them came from a Go-Go bar called Tiliac. Those ladies were dressed to the nines, eagerly awaiting our arrival to pay their way to the party. But just 20 minutes after they walked into the hotel ballroom where the party was being held–in the middle of an enthusiastic round of musical chairs and limbo–their owner called and told them they must return to the bar, despite the fact that we had paid their bar fine for the night.

Disappointed and with many in tears, Vanessa and Megan led them back to Tiliac, where the girls all hugged them and promised to try to come back. Within an hour, 12 of the 17 were able to return, paying their own bar fine to set themselves free for one night (we later reimbursed them). We have no idea what punishment, if any, they suffered for their decision, but whatever the consequences were for them–the pull to be free was stronger.

Even bigger wins were in store for our party for Nana Plaza last night. The highlights: We shut down a whole bar, had more than 220 girls in attendance and more than 40 raised hands signaling a decision for Christ. Oh, and did I mention that there were three girls in attendance who told us this was there very first night ever working in the bars? What an amazing opportunity!

It’s stories like these that make the 70+ total who accepted Jesus over the past two nights even more profound. In spite of so many walls and strongholds we encountered in both Soi Cowboy and Nana Plaza this week, the victory for those who came and heard, and especially those who raised a hand, took a Bible and stayed afterward to pray, were not only  but also against all odds. To put it in more basic terms, it was totally a “God thing.”

Please take a moment to watch this slideshow recap–to see the girls playing, laughing, praying and enjoying–and soak in the simple power of how much it means to them to simply be loved and honored, even if for a night. We pray that the impact of these parties will stretch much further.

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Pin’s Journey: A Resurrection Story

In most every group of women you meet around the world, there is a ringleader. If you’re lucky, that ringleader has the characteristics of Pin—the kind of personality who rallies the troops, is strong in the face of danger, keeps others laughing when things get tough, and isn’t scared to get her hands dirty for a cause close to her heart. Pin is all these and more.

Three years ago, in 2008, Pin came to the Christmas party thrown by Beginnings for Nana Plaza. She was working in a bar at the time, when Fa, another girl who lives at Beginnings came in to round up the girls for the party. Pin recalls with a laugh that Fa told her the party would have a free dinner, and that’s all it took to get her out the door of her bar. The party that night unfolded in the usual fashion with games, presents, songs and a clear presentation of the gospel.

“I remember seeing the video clip showing Jesus with the crown of thorns on his head. I realized that He had to suffer to give us hope,” Pin recalled. “And I felt something…but I didn’t understand what it was at the time.”

Pin had been working in the bars for several months leading up to that night—a decision prompted by her mother, who pressured her to earn more money and “be rich like my aunt’s friend who also worked in the bars,” Pin remembered.

At first, she says she actually enjoyed it. Being young and outgoing, she liked the dancing and social interaction, but soon realized the unseemly side of the job—being forced to sleep with men.

“Sometimes I was brave but sometimes I was afraid. And I had to do whatever the customer asked me. I had a lot of questions in my mind, like why I had to go and sleep with anyone who bought me,” she said.

Pin’s unsettled feeling about her work made the timing of the Christmas party perfect. When she returned home that night, she started looking through the gift bag from the party and saw a flyer from Beginnings. It explained that the home offered a way to continue an education—and that struck a chord with her.

“At the time, my two goals were to make a lot of money, which is how I ended up in the bars, and to continue my education,” Pin said.

She called Beginnings at 2 a.m. that night and spoke to house mom, Anne, who invited to her to come visit Beginnings the next day. Pin moved in that same week. Three months later, she accepted Christ as her Savior after witnessing the lives of the girls around her at Beginnings.

“It seemed like they have peace in their heart, so I decided to give my life to Christ,” Pin said.

But Pin’s story doesn’t end there. One year after moving into Beginnings, she made a dramatic decision—she left the house to go back to work at the bars, among other places.

“I left because I thought she still didn’t have the answer yet and wanted to go back and have fun, but once I left, I realized it was hard and a mistake,” she said. “During the time, I was really tired and had no close friends. I thought a lot about God and Beginnings and about when I became a believer.”

After a year of being gone from Beginnings, Pin hit rock bottom and resolved to return, but not before making a bargain with God.

“I said, ‘If you are real, bring me back to Beginnings’ and He opened the doors for me here,” Pin said, explaining that Anne and Bonita welcomed her back with open arms.

Pin has now been back at Beginnings for a year and says she has learned to trust and move towards hope in God and in people. Her faithfulness brought her full circle on the night of the Christmas parties this year—from sitting in the audience three years ago to standing on stage, sharing her testimony.

“I am so proud and grateful to speak at the Christmas parties,” Pin said. “I prayed to the Lord that I could become a blessing to my family and friends, and now I’m getting the chance to speak about what God’s done in my life.”

As she told her story to the audience, tears filled her eyes. She spoke with the same strength, humor and conviction that anyone who now knows Pin finds so appealing. And, most importantly, her words reached a room full of women who are now in the very same place she was just a few years ago.

Pin’s hope for the future is to become a lawyer, but for now, she is on the front lines in the bars each week, telling the girls there about her transformation. Though the red light district of Nana Plaza represents every kind of pain and evil to her, Pin overcomes any fears of going back in order to give the same hope she has found to another girl who needs it. And there are many, many girls there who need it.

Most days, Pin can usually be found in school, making crafts to sell and joking around with the girls at Beginnings. She is gregarious, funny and playfully affectionate yet very much a tough soul. But her strong voice instantly softens if you ask her the right question—usually one about what Jesus means to her. She pauses, her eyes watering, and gives a simple answer.

“Jesus is my family—my father, my mother, my everyone … my everything.”

Reason to Celebrate

Today, there is reason to celebrate.

It’s 12:30 a.m. here in Bangkok and though we are all wiped out after the first Christmas party, it is a new day in more ways than one for many of the girls who attended. I will post a full recap after a good night’s sleep, but the highlights include 130+ girls in attendance and approximately 30 raised their hands to accept Christ tonight. Exact numbers and lots and lots of pictures forthcoming, but for now, I think this one says it all.

For Whom We Fight … and Party

Disgusting. Degrading. Dehumanizing.

In case you missed this photo from my last post, this picture pretty much summarizes Soi Cowboy–an avenue to offer flesh of any size and shape to men who just want to pay for a warm body of their choosing.

This is who we are fighting to offer freedom to tonight–the girls of Soi Cowboy who have been treated as less than human and unworthy of true love for the extent of their time there, and probably their whole lives. Pray that in just a few hours, doors will be flung wide open, that mama sans’ hearts will be receptive to us taking the girls to the Christmas party, and that they would even shut down bars and come as well.

Our God is front of us….we cannot wait to share the stories of victory.

Heartbreak and Hope–A Lesson in Opposites

In one of the loudest cities I have ever been in, it is often the quietest moments that stop me dead in my tracks.

On our walk to Soi Cowboy tonight, we passed a young mother sitting on the street as a beggar. She was quietly praying over her infant son; her toddler daughter sat just feet away. She never looked up as people passed by, even as some dropped baht in her Styrofoam cup. It was clear she was ashamed to be begging, and the look in her eyes was recognizable by any mother on Earth–she was desperate to provide for her babies.

I know I said that we have to choose what breaks our hearts here. But sometimes, there is just no choice in the matter. Your heart just simply shatters at the scene unfolding before you. The worst part is that we felt helpless to improve her circumstances, beyond a few baht here and there.

That’s how we have struggled not to feel all week, actually. We know beyond a doubt that Beginnings offers real hope and change … we have heard it in the girls stories and have seen it in their refreshed innocence and childlike smiles. But there are still so many girls in need of rescue. At one bar two of the women on our team went into at Soi Cowboy tonight, there were at least 200 girls working. And that’s just ONE bar among 20+ in just Soi Cowboy alone. Not counting Nana Plaza. Not counting street walkers. Not counting Lady Boys (that’s a whole other piece of the puzzle we gained more insight on today, but more on that later).

These are just a few of the images captured tonight at Soi Cowboy:

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We know it’s not up to us to save them all, but … our hearts ache for each one of them.

Tomorrow is our first Christmas party for the girls at Soi Cowboy. And guess who is coming? Na. See my post about my time with her from the last trip here. Tonight, I went into the bar she worked at the last time I saw her, in 2009, to see if she was still there. I hoped she would not be–that she had somehow escaped, but she was the first person I saw when I walked in. Because she was working a jam-packed bar, our reunion was quick, but sweet. She lit up and asked me about the baby and I showed her a picture of Ella in the locket around my neck. It was so good to see her. She said she would come tomorrow night and bring more girls with her. Praise God for that little window of encouragement.

So tonight, we as you to pray boldly for our first party tomorrow night. Pray for a huge turnout–that we can buy freedom for so many girls that we actually shut down whole bars.

Inside the Fight for Freedom, Part III: The Men

But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea (Matthew 18:6).

It is easy to hate men here. In fact, it is part of a necessary process to become just as broken for them as you are for the girls. First comes putrid disgust at them, what they are doing to these girls, and the fact that many of them travel so far away from home to do it. This is the part of the process that is often the hardest to leave behind. But often, through night after night of watching them closely, sooner or later, it hits you: These men are just as broken as the girls they take advantage of.

Coming to a place where you hate the sin instead of the sinner is a very “church-y” thing to talk about. But it is an absolutely necessary place to come to in order to be truly effective in reaching the girls with unadulterated love that is undistracted by your fury towards the men.

Don’t get me wrong, the (sometimes righteous) anger will long be right under the  surface. I may or may not have jokingly prayed in our team meeting yesterday for “mass castration.” But I know that at the end of the day, these guys, though they are acting as willing adults, are in almost as dark of a place. Just look at their faces and you can see the boredom, the numbness, the depression. It’s as if they just want to feel something–anything–so they go to extremes to do so. And yet, it is unfulfilling in the harsh light of the next morning.

No one is contending that their actions are justifiable. But as He does with all of us, God will deal with each man’s sin in His own time. And if Matthew 18:6 gives us any prelude as to the punishment, it sounds like these guys are in for a rough road ahead. In the meantime, however, we are still called to love them. Tough to swallow, isn’t it?

As difficult and unfair as it seems, we ask you to join us in praying for these men. We talk a lot about the girls coming to freedom. But these men, while not enslaved, are just as imprisoned. They need the light just as much, even if they have intentionally sought out the darkness.

Pray, just for tonight, that God will bring such conviction into the heart of one man to make him so uncomfortable that he will say, “Not me. Not tonight,” and walk away. Then repeat this prayer every night. If we all did this, perhaps we could witness a mass exodus from the bars.

But if you can’t pray that–if you aren’t there yet–that’s okay. It took/is taking us awhile too. Instead, just pray for healing. For redemption. For freedom…for the girls, and for the men. After all, He loves them just as much.

But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous (Matthew 5:44-45).

Faces of Freedom: Bo’s Story

Since the subject matter of the three-part series is pretty heavy, let’s take a quick break and regain some hope. I can think of no better way than by telling Bo’s story…

At just 18 years old, *Bo has a baby face that does not relay her true age. She looks no older than 16 and her full, flushed cheeks, bow-shaped lips and sweet, dark eyes create the illusion that she is made of fragile porcelain. But Bo’s existence to this point has not been handled with care and the details are tough to process. At 5 years old, she was raped by her stepfather; at 8, she was sold by her mother to men for sex. Eventually, Bo told a teacher about these crimes and, for once, the Thai police actually cared. Both of her parents are now in jail.

But justice was short-lived. As a result of her newfound orphan status, Bo was sent to a Thai foster house, where many other children from similar backgrounds also lived. There, she was molested and neglected for years. Eventually, the Government Home for Trafficked and Sexually Abused Women stepped in and broke up the house. Bo was taken to live at the government facility, along with about 200 other girls. It is there that her story begins to change shape.

Through the Government Home’s relationship with Beginnings, Bo was sent to live here in early 2011. Finally in a safe environment, she soon began to thrive along with the other girls, and was soon enrolled in school. Beginnings’ founder explains that Bo is currently in a non-formal school, but next year, she will likely go to public high school (in Thailand, public school is not free and space is never guaranteed). This will be the first real “formal” education Bo has ever received, and as a very bright teenager, she is already doing well in her education and feels confident she will graduate.

The most radical change in Bo, though, has come through her new relationship with Jesus Christ. She became a Christian six months ago, and while the leaders at Beginnings say she still has a long way to go to work through the pain of her past, Bo is already showing off her Godly love. Unusually affectionate even for a Thai, she is quick to smile, give hugs and grab a friend’s hand.

The love and healing power in her life is starting to write a new story in Bo—a story of resurrection, hope and truly, one of new Beginnings. If you think that what is being done here and through Freedom 4/24 is nothing more than a chasing of the wind, just ask Bo where she would be today without it.

Today, Bo is free thanks to these ministries, those who support them and Christ’s redemptive love. Tomorrow, that same storyline could begin for a girl we met last night in a bar. It’s not up for us to decide, but only to follow the path laid before us, in hopes that one more “Bo” will find a life, reborn.

*Name changed to protect identity

Inside the Fight for Freedom, Part II: The Girls of the Red Light Districts

Hope. A word so hard to define for the ladies of Bangkok. For a girl who is forced to sell her bodies, often multiple times a day … what hope does she have? She is degraded, dehumanized, jeered and barked at on stage (some of our team actually witnessed this last night at Nana Plaza) and made to feel that she is nothing more than a soulless body, designed only for someone else’s pleasure. When you boil down what her existence looks like–hollow and haunted–it is hard to imagine what must keep her going, day after day, night after night.

Some find a measure of comfort through religious rituals, like the girl above who is praying and giving a drink offering to a Buddhist alter before going into work. However, for most of these enslaved girls, their greatest hope–apart from Christ–lies in their death. Only then will the pain of life as a sex slave be relieved.

But even in the face of despair, there is hope….tremendous hope. I’ve seen it in the 16 girls who now call Beginnings home. These girls who each glow bright with their own Resurrection story. They are the reason we do what we do–to see more like them, once abused, neglected and enslaved–come to freedom, a new life and yes, even to hope.

In the meantime, however, the challenge ahead is a huge one. Let these photos of just a few of the girls and women within this massive industry soak in. This is the heart of Freedom 4/24. This is also for whom we must fight.

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Inside the Fight for Freedom, Part I: The Sex Industry

*The content that follows is somewhat graphic, and not appropriate for children. You have been properly warned. Now, get ready to get mad and motivated.*

When most people think of the sex industry in America, they usually think of the rampantness of pornography, or the sexualization of women through billboards, the media and the like. We often demonize the television, the computer, or the music we listen to as the source of the problem. It is easy to blame an object. It’s much more difficult to admit the true source: darkness through people and spiritual forces at work together (yeah, I went there).

In Bangkok, to say the sex industry is in your face is an understatement. It plasters itself all over every surface imaginable, in this case, in the form of a semi-nude photo behind a bar in Nana Plaza.

It walks the streets at 9 a.m. in the morning on Soi 4, looking for money to feed her family.

It mascarades openly as an old, Western man holding the hand of a young, Thai girl.

It flaunts itself in the form of scantly dressed women who litter the entrance to the red light districts.

And it provides a main source of income to the countless number of street vendors who display tables and tables of items to enhance and pervert the already twisted sexual experience that men (and even some women) seek in Thailand.

Everywhere you look, the sex industry blankets Bangkok in its sludge, from dusk til dawn. At 8 a.m. on any given day, a Western man like the one below is asking a Thai girl for her number so he can meet up with her later.

At 10 a.m., the girls at the pool bars and massage parlors sit outside, bored and waiting on their first customer to show up. For them, work will not be through until 7 p.m. or later, when the next shift of 7 p.m. to 4 a.m. girls comes in to “relieve” them of their daily duties. (Hey buddy, you are so busted…)

By 6:30 p.m., the dinner crowd is transitioning into the red light crowd. The bars are beginning to fill. The girls are starting to dance. Drinks flow. Clothes become scarce. Men ogle, grope and choose a girl for the night, or at least the next hour, by the number she is wearing. With each suggestive move, a girl is victimized. And it’s almost always against her will.

Notice how this man is not looking at this girl’s eyes…

Listen, it may not seem like it, but I’m being tame here. If I could take you inside the bars, where these girls dance like robots–cold, stiff and emotionless–or force your eyes open by the horror of watching one of them being beckoned off stage by an 80-year-old, tattooed ex-military sleeze looking to relive his glory days, I would take you in a second. That’s the only way to truly get kicked in the gut by the pervasive darkness here, vaguely masked by Vegas lighting and head-throbbing music. It hangs heavy as the humidity here, always oppressive, never relenting, even when it’s soaked by torrential rain or sprayed down with a water hose, like the streets of the red lights districts are by day.

As if to give galactic confirmation to everything we were seeing and experiencing last night, even the moon fell dark. The sight of this lunar eclipse seemed appropriate amidst the red light district of Soi Cowboy–one of the darkest, yet most brightly lit places I’ve ever seen.

If all of this makes you uncomfortable (minus the moon), good–that’s the point. And we are just getting started. Next up–Part II: The Girls of the Red Light Districts.