the face of slavery

i've been avoiding this post for awhile.

its time to give voice to the words in my heart.

about two months ago i went on a mission trip to the Atlanta Dream Center.

i saw and experienced things there that i never thought i would encounter in my own country.

i knew human trafficking and slavery and prostitution existed here.

i've known. i've used my voice to spread awareness. i've spent hours praying, reading, weeping over it.

but it became real to me in Atlanta.

it went from being a label and a number, to being a face.

a face that will forever be burned in my mind's eye.

it started when we went to a place called Underground Atlanta to do water bottle ministry.

basically, we walk around the streets and shops offering people water, talking to them, asking if there's anything we could pray for them about, and if they accepted, to pray with them.

my group was standing outside and i noticed a guy and a girl standing about twenty feet away.

immediately in my spirit, i knew something was wrong.

he had her pinned against the wall.

her face was down. she refused to look at him. you could see the disgust in her eyes.

i saw him slip a giant wad of cash into her delicate hand.

he grabbed her shoulder and forcefully pulled her along to walk down the street.

i could see that she didn't want to go with him. it was so obvious.

i watched them for about ten minutes.

i saw her try to give him back the money. he refused. time after time.

they walked back the other way. her face down in shame. being drug along by this sick pig.

he was pointing to nearby buildings. hotels.

there was another man who walked with them the whole time, watching her life a hawk.

i assume he was her pimp.

and i quickly figured out that what i was witnessing was this young girl being sold for sex.

another girl on my team noticed too and said the same thing.

i wanted to go up to her, grab her hand, tell her she was beautiful, that Jesus loved her and had a plan for her life that was so much bigger than this, and protect her from ever being used by another man again.

but i couldn't. i felt so helpless. i was just watching her destiny being stolen.

the girl in the yellow sweater. i can't forget her.

that same night we got into our hotel.

the Stratford Inn.

this place was the sketchiest, scariest, dirtiest place we could have possibly stayed in.

it was in a horrible part of town.

there was blood on the walls of my room. (and almost everyone else's rooms).

mold in the showers.

tiny rooms.

the whole place smelled like pot.

we couldn't go anywhere in the hotel without a guy escorting us to and from our room.

and the spiritual atmosphere was like nothing i had ever experienced before.

darkness so thick that you could breathe it in.

this place was a brothel.

i just knew in my spirit that countless women had been raped in this hotel.

i could see it. {mental images of women being used flashed in my mind}

i could feel it. {cringing. i could feel their pain}

i could hear it. {i could her their screams echoing in my mind}

i could taste it. {the shame}

i could touch it. {the walls. the bed. the blood stains. it was real.}

i had to go to my best friend's room across the hall and cry it out and pray with them. i felt the heaviness of the burden of the darkness that surrounded us and the very present evil wading around in that hotel.

i knew the He that is in me is GREATER than the spirits ruling there, and i had no problem taking authority, but i couldn't ignore what the Lord was showing me and the weight of heartache i felt for these girls. His daughters.

i knew in that moment, more than ever, that part of my life calling is to rescue these girls out of slavery.

i prayed. read scriptures over the room i was in. made war in the heavenlies for the girls being used in the rooms around us and on the other levels of the hotel. played worship music all night to fill the room with the peace of the presence of Jesus.

i don't know if you've ever experienced this feeling, but sometimes i wake up and my body is just exhausted and i can tell that my spirit had been fighting the whole night.

that's what i felt like the next morning. my spirit had been making war all night long.

two days later: Princess Night.

princess night is the prostitute ministry of the Atlanta Dream Center.

they go out onto the streets every friday night to tell these girls that they are loved and beautiful, and to give them a rose and a rescue hotline phone number.

they build relationships with these girls, and through the process of time, work to get them off the streets.

if these girls accept a rose, most of the time they risk being beat by their pimp. so it is a huge win if we could even get them to accept a rose, and a loss at the same time because of the consequences.

so we break up into teams, get into two vans and hit the streets.

we go to an area of town where it is cheap motel after cheap motel, sex shop after sex shop, strip club after strip club. its a very shady part of Atlanta.

we drove up and down the streets in the darkness, praying, and occasionally stopping to talk to a girl. 

the first girl we stopped for walked away and wouldn't talk to us because her pimp was watching her.

the second girl, myself and my friend Ashley got to speak with.

we got out of the van. walk up to her and ask if we could talk to her. she said yes.

i was captivated by her brokenness.

her face.

she couldn't have been more than 20 years old.

she had cuts on her face.

you could tell she was strung out on drugs.

she looked spent. completely.

i looked in her eyes. and saw nothing. there was no life left. she was empty. 

we hand her a white rose and tell her that she is loved. and she is beautiful.

she started crying and mouthed the words "thank you".

we gave her a bracelet that had a cross on it. she said that it was beautiful.

we asked if we could pray for her. she said we could. 15 seconds of pouring the love of Jesus on her and we had to walk away.

i literally felt as though my heart was being ripped out of my chest.

i didn't want to leave her alone.

i felt even more helpless than i did with the girl in the yellow sweater.

i pictured myself holding her in my momma bear arms.

telling her how much Jesus adores her and how great His plans are for her life and how He can make her whole, rescue her and make her pure again.

i saw myself gently grabbing her cheeks, me crying, saying, "You are so brave. You are so strong. You are so beautiful. You are a daughter of the most high God and He LOVES you SO MUCH. Let Him rescue you."

even though i saw the abuse and shame on her face, at the same time i saw innocence. i saw destiny. i saw a daughter who needed her Daddy. 

but it was all in my mind.

i had to walk away.

i have to endure the thought of her precious heart being violated over, and over again.

i got in the van and immediately fell apart. not just crying. sobbing. gut wrenching sobbing. audible sobs.

i've never felt so helpless or so broken over someone else's pain like that before.

i'm crying now, writing these words.

i can still see her face. she is the face of the 27 million slaves on the earth. they are individuals. stories. people. daughters (and sons) of our Father.

we kept driving and moments later encountered the girl in the pink pants.

a couple of our girls walked up to her to try and talk to her, but couldn't because her pimp wasn't having it.

he told us, "she's received a thousand roses and they are all dead, she doesn't need another one."

each rose represents a dream.

each dream from her past, present and future. and her pimp was speaking over her that all her dreams were dead and there was no point in having any more.

broken.

he was telling her that she wasn't allowed to dream again.

no hopes of freedom.

no hopes of a better life.

no hope at all.

she belonged to him.

we drove past motels that had semi-trucks parked outside. all their lights on. with one back door open. and you just knew that there were girls being used in the back of those trucks.

i wanted to vomit.

i've never witnessed or experienced something more sobering or heartbreaking in my life.

but through it all, i never had that "ugh" or "gross" feeling or thought process.

no.

all i felt was love.

all i knew in that moment was compassion.

i understood, on a very small scale, for the first time in my life, what it meant when the Bible said,

"...when he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." (Matthew 9:36)

only compassion. 

nothing less. 

i saw God's daughters. 

beautiful. 

treasures. 

valuable. 

they weren't "just prostitutes", like people so often say. 

every prostitute. every woman being trafficked. IS GOD'S DAUGHTER. 

she is valuable. 

she has intrinsic value that has absolutely nothing to do with what she does or what she has been caught up into. her value simply exists because of who she is. a child of the most high God. 

every verse that we believe for ourselves, is just as true about her as it is about us. 

Ephesians 2:10- "We are God's masterpiece. Created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which He prepared in advance for us to do." 

Psalm 139:14, 17-18- "I praise you, because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. How wonderful are your works, O God. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand-- when I awake, you are still with me." 

Romans 8:1 - "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus..." 

Song of Songs 4:7 - "All beautiful you are, my darling. There is no flaw in you." 

what right do we have to feel disgusted by a girl who is a prostitute? 

is your sin any better than hers? 

Jesus loved prostitutes and spent a lot of His time on earth fellowshipping with them. He didn't judge them or act disgusted by them. He loved them. He embraced them where they were. 

will you join me in seeing the value in EVERY SINGLE ONE of God's daughters? 

no labels. 

no judgement. 

no disgust. 

no preconceived notions. 

just grace. 

just compassion. 

just love. 

just extending the compassion of the One that created them. 

nothing less. 

i challenge you to a life of compassion. 

no matter how uncomfortable it makes you. 

Jesus wasn't disgusted by your humanity or your sin. 

we have no right to be disgusted by anyone else's humanity or sin. 

compassion is the life we are called to as believers. 

they are just waiting for someone to love them like Jesus.