Man is certainly not the solution to the world's problems, only Jesus can overcome such evilness. But he has equipped us to be his hands and feet. He doesn't need us, but he's chosen to use us. We can sit here and say that the world is too awful and nothing can be alleviated until the Lord returns and then use that as an excuse to do nothing. But I think that breaks our Father's heart.

The Lord has called us to be his hands, his feet, and a voice for the voiceless, and he's equipped us to do it! The Holy Spirit is moving and breathing inside of us and has equipped us all to bring about Kingdom changes. We may not be able to impact the whole world, but we can at least do for one person what we wish we could do for everyone.

A couple nights ago in Atlanta I went to the Free to Live tour (www.freetolivetour.com) with the Desperation Band, Meredith Andrews, and Tom Davis. They are traveling around the nation putting on free concerts and educating people about child trafficking and poverty, and encouraging the Church to get involved in what God is doing. The lead singer from Desperation Band said something that stuck with me:

"We're crying out for a move of God and he's crying out for a move of man."

And we don't have to leave the country, we don't even have to leave our neighborhoods to do it. That is one thing that has been really cool about this trip was the opportunity to do missions here in the States. It's so easy to have a 'missionary mindset' of intentional ministry when your overseas, but what about when daily life gets busy in your secular job here in America? God has called each of us to a purpose to further his kingdom, and it doesn't matter where that is.

My team has had the opportunity this month to have meetings with various individuals such as a law professor from GA State, a coordinator for a model rehabilitation and recovery home for women and children victims of prostitution (www.wellspringliving.org), and a former child slave from Ghana (James Kofi Annan: www.freetheslaves.net). Through these meetings I have gained a wealth of knowledge, been discouraged at times, and been incredibly encouraged as well. But one thing that I learned from all is the variety of ways to get involved.

I wanted to share some ideas of ways you can get involved in not only fighting human trafficking, but bringing about kingdom change and bringing heaven to earth:

Sponsor a child: by sponsoring a child through various organizations like Children's HopeChest, Compassion International, and World Vision, you can not only feed a child but provide education. Keeping a child in school is the most effective trafficking prevention.

Mentor a child: there are SO many organizations to help mentor a local kid. Although kids who are trafficked come from all walks of life, many come from broken families. A loving adult who takes the time to step into their life could be the difference between life and death.

Become a foster parent: I know this is a way bigger commitment then the previously mentioned ideas, but if you're in a position to do so, have you thought about it? There are so many kids that need safe and loving homes, where they can be encouraged, supported, and come to know the love of Jesus. These kids are at an incredibly high risk for being trafficked whether it's because they run away or eventually age out of the system without support and guidance.

Buy fair trade: Be willing to pay a little bit more money to ensure your food and other items you buy were not harvested or made by forced laborers. Organizations our teams have worked with such as Freeset, Nightlight International, and Project Rescue produce beautiful shirts, bags, scarves, and jewelry that are employing women and girls who have previously been exploited in the sex trade. There are websites such as betterworldshopper.org that will let you know about the companies you purchase from. If you're frustrated that your grocery store doesn't have many fair trade items, do what my mom did: she walked the manager of Publix around her store and explained what fair trade meant and gave her information and suggestions.

Be educated and educate: Organizations such as Not For Sale (notforsalecampaign.org) and so many others have endless resources to educate you and give you the tools to educate others. For example, if there was a push to educate hotel staff, police officers, educators, and others who work directly with children on the risk factors and signs of CSEC (commercial sexual exploitation of children), it would be prevented in many cases and caught much earlier in others. Also, just like the manager my mom encountered at Publix, if more people knew that spending a few more cents on an item could ensure that people were not exploited in its making, I firmly believe many more people would be on board.

Donate: Above I listed many ways you can donate your time, but there are also already so many organizations that are doing incredible things that simply need more funding. One such organization we encountered was the above mentioned Wellspring Living. Wellspring currently has 16 teenage girls who have formerly been forced into prostitution and are now being given holistic care and rehabilitation. Wellspring has been recognized as a model recovery program because of their 80% success rate. But while 16 girls can go through the 9 month program at a time, the juvenile system here in Georgia currently has over 85 girls on a waiting list for the program, many of which are sitting in a jail cell. This is because there are not enough facilities, and not enough funding for the ones that already exist.

Pray: "This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us-whatever we ask-we know that we have what we asked of him." (1 John 5:14-15). God's heart for the voiceless and oppressed is constant throughout the Scriptures. And because "our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12), prayer is our most powerful weapon against the enemy and these injustices.

 

I share all this with you because I too am asking the Lord what else I can do. This trip has now made these issues personal for me. When I hear statistics and stories I now have names and faces of people I call friends that have experienced or are still in the midst of the horrors of modern day slavery. They are no longer numbers, but instead individual human beings with stories. My prayer is that this becomes personal for you too. That as the church we will step up and be His hands and be His feet. God is the only solution, but He has given us the privilege of being a part of His work.

"Is not this the the kind of fasting I have chosen: too loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter-when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I." -Isaiah 58:6-9

To help better understand what slavery often looks like in the States, these are some stories I've heard and ones just like them time and time again directly from people we have worked with and from various organizations here in the States:

A 13 year old girl runs away from her home because of abuse or even just a fight with her parents. She goes to her local mall or bus stop, undecided what she'll do next. Within 48-72 hours of running away, she will be approached by a cute guy in his early twenties or late teens. He comes up to her and asks why such a beautiful girl looks so sad. They start talking, he buys her some lunch, and the grooming process begins. She goes with him and eventually falls for him. He will rape her, beat her, and force her to work the streets to 'earn her keep.' She may even fall in love with him because she longs for his affection, anyone's affection. But she is now under her pimp's control, regardless of her desire to stay or go. If she is not arrested and put in jail as a criminal, within 7 years she will die from homicide or HIV/AIDS.

A pregnant 22 year old mother with her 3 year old, 2 year old, and 11 month old are thrown out in a dangerous part of town in the middle of the night by her boyfriend. She is scared and has no idea how she will protect them and provide for her children. Someone meets her on the street and calls up a recovery home and shelter for women and children. Her life and the lives of her children are saved. But she is the lucky one. Many in this situation will turn to prostitution to survive. And although it may appear to be a choice at first, these women too are forced into it by their lack of options.

A migrant worker in south Florida thinks he is simply obtaining a job harvesting fruit. Soon he finds himself not just picking fruit, but beaten, nevery payed, and forced to eat and live in sub-human conditions. Tricked into debt bondage, he has no way of escaping and often his children will be born into the same fate of harvesting the cheap crops that we eat.

These are some statistics on these issues:

-The average age of entry into prostitution in the USA is 13 years old.

-90% of runaways become part of the sex trade industry. Many are lured within 48 and 72 hours of leaving home.

-There is an estimated 100,000-150,000 sex slaves in the USA. 300,000 American children are at high risk for being trafficked.

-The average life expectancy of a child after getting into prostitution is seven years, with homicide or HIV/AIDS as the main causes of death.

-1 in 4 girls is sexually abused before the age of 18. This increases dramatically among homeless youth.

-There is an estimated 400,000 forced laborers throughout Europe and the USA

-The State Department estimates between 14,500-17,500 foreign nationals are trafficked into the US every year.

This month my team and I have been partnered with an organization called Street Grace. Street Grace's mission is to help put an end to the sexual exploitation and prostitution of children in the Atlanta area and beyond. They serve mainly as a network that connects local churches and organizations who are also working towards eliminating the commercial sexual exploitation of children (CSEC). Through Street Grace we were partnered with two organizations: Foster Care Support Center and 7 Bridges to Recovery.

Foster Care Support Center was set up to help foster parents support their foster kids. They supply children with summer and winter wardrobes, toys, and other basic necessities. This ministry lessens the financial strain of taking in foster kids and thus enables more families to provide a loving and safe home. We also spent a lot of our time working with an organization called 7 Bridges to Recovery. 7 Bridges is a ministry that goes out on the streets of Atlanta most nights a week, taking meals, building relationships, and sharing the love and hope of Christ with those who are living on the streets. With everyone they meet, the opportunity to leave the streets is available because of the various ministries and shelters they have and are partnered with. One part of their ministry is the Garden. The Garden is home to over 65 women and 35 children, and there we had the opportunity to help out in various ways, build relationships, play with kids, have sleepovers, and essentially were welcomed into their giant family.

And this business exists in the heart of Calcutta's sex district.

Last night we stayed late at work and our contact took us through "The Lanes" of Sonagachi. Over 10,000 people are being prostituted in Sonagachi, an area a little over one square mile. Sonagachi is especially well known throughout Calcutta and the entire world because of its young girls. And when I say young girls, I don't even mean teenagers; I mean young girls.

Girls here are trafficked into Sonagachi from peasant towns of northeast India and Nepal. Although they sometimes kidnap girls from these areas, traffickers often buy them from their families for an average price of $4. Traffickers tell families that they have respectable jobs lined up for them in big cities, and parents who cannot afford the dowry for a daughters' marriage jump at the opportunity to get paid to send off their child. 11 years old is the average age of these girls who are trafficked.

As we walked down the streets and alleys of Sonagachi, women and girls in their late teens were lined up down the street. Women on the streets in India don't sit or stand anywhere for an extended period of time because it draws to much attention to them from men. But these women were 'standing in line'. Standing shoulder to shoulder in some places as you walk down the street, women were trying to sell themselves to men for as little as $0.50 a customer.

But you rarely see a girl under the age of sixteen in the lanes. This is because when she is trafficked into Sonagachi, she is locked in a back room where she is beaten and raped non-stop for weeks on end, and then often doesn't see the light of day for years. One girl at the business we work at was trafficked into Sonagachi when she was eleven years old, brutally raped and beaten almost 24 hours a day for three weeks, and then was locked in the same back room for seven years. This is an all too common story, and as I was walking down these alleys I was horrified to think that this nightmare was happening to girls as we walked past brothel after brothel.

I'm reading a book right now called Half the Sky by Nicholas D. Kristof, and in one part the author discusses a conversation he has with a border patrol guard at the Nepal-India border. Kristof sees truck after truck full of girls passing through the station without being stopped and inquires about it. The guard responds, "These girls are sacrificed so we can have harmony in society. So that good girls can be safe...these are peasant girls. They can't even read. They're from the countryside. This way the good Indian-middle class girls are safe."

This blows my mind every time I hear or read something like this, but I have seen this mindset played out so much throughout this trip. Sacrifice the poor, sacrifice the girl, sacrifice the one with no voice. Trafficking is such a complicated situation fueled by greed, lust, and poverty. But it's so easy to get angry at the pimps, at the traffickers, and at the men who use and abuse these women and children. And believe me, I've felt angry many times on this trip. And it's so easy to feel hopeless. As I walk past a sixteen year old girl with hot pink lipstick painted on her lips and a dead look in her eyes, I want to grab her and run. But I can't run with her. And I can't punch the 50 year old man that walks away with her. But what CAN I do?

As I sit here in the place we are staying, I hear the sound of the Muslim call to prayer being drowned out by the rain and thunder. As I sit here in my dry guesthouse, my neighbors are sitting on the sidewalk outside our gate, trying to stay dry underneath their meager belongings. As I sit here on my computer, I think about yesterday...

Yesterday we walked through neighborhoods of Calcutta that I have not yet been.

Yesterday the smells of fried food, spices, and chai filled the air, all of which mixed with the scent of poop.

Yesterday I watched a cow stop traffic, but had to run for dear life across the street as oncoming cars sped up.

Yesterday I saw men shooting up heroine on the streets.

Yesterday I saw a widow sitting in the alley, being ignored by those passing by. Here a widow is worth nothing, must dress a certain way, and eat no nutritious food so that she dies quickly.

Yesterday I saw skeletons of men with missing limbs sitting and begging. I was told they are owned and probably have been so most of their lives.

Yesterday I saw poverty beyond anything I had ever seen in a squatter settlement set up around railroad tracks.

Yesterday I was offered food and flowers from the poorest of the poor, as we sat outside their shack made of blankets.

Yesterday I saw the cremation of a Hindu man. I stood there as his body was dipped in the river, placed on a stack of wood, and set on fire. I watched as the scent of burning hair and flesh filled my nostrils and ashes fell on my head. My heart was broken as they presented this man to their 330 million gods.

Yesterday I learned that a recent survey revealed that 100% of the children over six years of age who live on the streets in the city have been sexually abused. 100%. Every child interviewed.

Yesterday I smiled as one of these street girls sat across from us at KFC. Sassy and smart, our contacts have befriended this eleven year old girl and she eats lunch with us every week.

Yesterday I watched women sit and wait outside their brothel. Many women have been in the trade since they were forced into it at an average age of 11. Upon entrance, these children are beaten and raped for weeks, and often don't see the light of day for years. Years later, it's the only life they know.

Yesterday I heard someone explain that poverty is all about a lack of options. If a man has no work and many children who have not eaten in a week, selling his little girl for the night seems like a small price to pay so that the rest of the family doesn't starve.

At the end of the day, I was beyond wrecked by everything. I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained. Hopelessness seems to jump out at you at every corner here. But although I am tired and there are so many situations where I am struggling to see God, I know He is here, and I know He is good. So I will bless His name. I will bless His name for yesterday, I will bless His name today, and I will bless His name tomorrow.

 

As I sit here in the place we are staying, I hear the sound of the Muslim call to prayer being drowned out by the rain and thunder. As I sit here in my dry guesthouse, my neighbors are sitting on the sidewalk outside our gate, trying to stay dry underneath their meager belongings. As I sit here on my computer, I think about yesterday...

Yesterday we walked through neighborhoods of Calcutta that I have not yet been.

Yesterday the smells of fried food, spices, and chai filled the air, all of which mixed with the scent of poop.

Yesterday I watched a cow stop traffic, but had to run for dear life across the street as oncoming cars sped up.

Yesterday I saw men shooting up heroine on the streets.

Yesterday I saw a widow sitting in the alley, being ignored by those passing by. Here a widow is worth nothing, must dress a certain way, and eat no nutritious food so that she dies quickly.

Yesterday I saw skeletons of men with missing limbs sitting and begging. I was told they are owned and probably have been so most of their lives.

Yesterday I saw poverty beyond anything I had ever seen in a squatter settlement set up around railroad tracks.

Yesterday I was offered food and flowers from the poorest of the poor, as we sat outside their shack made of blankets.

Yesterday I saw the cremation of a Hindu man. I stood there as his body was dipped in the river, placed on a stack of wood, and set on fire. I watched as the scent of burning hair and flesh filled my nostrils and ashes fell on my head. My heart was broken as they presented this man to their 330 million gods.

Yesterday I learned that a recent survey revealed that 100% of the children over six years of age who live on the streets in the city have been sexually abused. 100%. Every child interviewed.

Yesterday I smiled as one of these street girls sat across from us at KFC. Sassy and smart, our contacts have befriended this eleven year old girl and she eats lunch with us every week.

Yesterday I watched women sit and wait outside their brothel. Many women have been in the trade since they were forced into it at an average age of 11. Upon entrance, these children are beaten and raped for weeks, and often don't see the light of day for years. Years later, it's the only life they know.

Yesterday I heard someone explain that poverty is all about a lack of options. If a man has no work and many children who have not eaten in a week, selling his little girl for the night seems like a small price to pay so that the rest of the family doesn't starve.

At the end of the day, I was beyond wrecked by everything. I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained. Hopelessness seems to jump out at you at every corner here. But although I am tired and there are so many situations where I am struggling to see God, I know He is here, and I know He is good. So I will bless His name. I will bless His name for yesterday, I will bless His name today, and I will bless His name tomorrow.

 

Written: 4/3/11

Fun facts from India I've discovered so far...

Cricket is actually a real sport. And there's a world cup, which happened to be hosted by India, which India won last Saturday. Kind of a big deal apparently.

Calcutta has almost as many mortar fireworks as they do people. They all started going off around 11pm when India won the Cricket world cup. Katie, Cameron, and I watched from our roof. It was pretty awesome.

Nobody in this country will give you change, and the ATM only gives you large bills. A grocery store actually refused to make change for me (I gave them the equivalent of a 2 dollar bill for a 50 cent item) and let me leave even though I saw the change in the cash register.

You can buy chai tea on every corner for about four cents.

McDonald's is the least greasiest option out of any food.

If you make eye contact with men they think you are suggesting something sexual. Needless to say I've stopped my winking habit.

I've never felt stared at more in my entire life. I've been longing for a place like New York City where everyone will ignore my existence.

Giant crows have taken over Calcutta. There are probably more of these birds then there are people, which is saying something. I was recently thinking that this would be a perfect setting for a sequel to the movie The Birds. I thought of this after one attacked my head the other day.

One way streets tend to all of a sudden change direction in the afternoon. One person just decides to start driving the other way and the flow of traffic changes.

Cows stop traffic, but cars speed up when I start to cross the road.

Apparently if you make eye contact with a car as you're crossing the street, they have the right to hit you because you saw them.

If something wet drops on you from above, 9 times out of 10 it's not rain. Today it was spit, the other day it was bird poop from a giant crow.

Don't go to the meat market in the afternoon. Words can't describe the smells.

The sideways head nod either means yes, no, or maybe. Your guess is as good as mine.

Calcutta is one of the few places on earth where man-pulled rickshaws are still legal.

Women will smile at you on the street if you smile and hold their gaze long enough.

Women in beautifully colored saris surround you everywhere you walk.

Children and adults alike walk up to you to shake your hand, simply to show respect for our culture.

People living in shacks the size of my kitchen table and made out of trash and blankets, offer us food and flowers as we sit on a railroad track that is their front step.

My last four years of college I was a Young Life leader. If you know anything about Young Life, you know we do some ridiculous stuff to make kids laugh and to break down walls. I led at a Middle School in Gainesville, FL and have some of the most incredible girls. Some of those that I am closest with were with me from their sixth grade year until now (9^th for some and 10^th grade for others). When I see them, we play games together, we talk about Jesus, we talk about the boys in their lives, and we share our hurts and dreams. Although I don't get to see them that often now, I love my girls. I love these girls and most of all I love seeing them laugh.

   Me and some awesome YL girls at camp this past summer.

Here are some of their stories...

I blogged in Cambodia about a safe house we visited that housed beautiful teenage girls who had been rescued out of forced prostitution. Some as young as 12 who looked no older than 9, forced to sell their bodies. They were beaten, raped, and brutalized. Now that they are rescued and safe, they laugh and play. I see in their laughter my girls from back home. They have similar dreams of becoming teachers, doctors, and missionaries. They are the same. They are just children.

In Cambodia we came across multiple incidences of abuse, rape, and incest. Children abused children who in turn abused other children. It was portrayed to us as 'normal' occurrences in the area we worked for elementary school-aged children to sexually molest younger children. I cringe at this because there is nothing 'normal' about this. All are victims and out of their hurt they are hurting others. But when we played games, they played. And when we sang songs, they sang. They joked and laughed with innocence. They are still children.

Playing Red Light Green Light with my class in Cambodia

Here in Thailand I am working with an organization called Garden of Hope. We work in the drop-in center that serves around 30 kids every afternoon in the red-light district who are at risk for prostitution, child labor, and other forms of exploitation. Most of these children have been physically and sexually abused. I know some of their stories and the rape and the abuse they have endured. Yet I still see in them laughter. They play and they laugh because they are just children.

At night, myself and others from my team have befriended a little 10 year old girl named Kam. Kam walks in and out of bars every night until 3am trying to sell roses to drunken patrons and bargirls. She doesn't speak much English and I speak less Thai, but we have spent multiple nights walking the streets, eating rotee (a delicious street treat), playing games, and supporting her dozing head as we sit on a street curb. One night after Kam fell asleep on my shoulder, she darted up with panic in her eyes saying she needed to sell flowers or her mom would beat her. I watched from a distance as she walked up to drunken men who teased her while she tried to sell them a rose for a mere $0.30. "She shouldn't be here in this environment!" my insides screamed. But even more frightening was the thought of the unknowns that could happen to her. I prayed against those thoughts. I prayed blessings, a safe and bright future, that her laughter would continue, and a love and knowledge of Jesus over her life. I still pray those prayers for Kam. After all, she is just a 10-year-old child who the Lord delights in.

Kam and I walking down bar street.

Erika, Sumalee, and Kanya laughing at our game night. (photos courtesy of Cameron :)

And I'm afraid the body of Christ is not doing enough for these children, myself included. As I sit here writing this tears are flowing because I want God to reveal to me how I can be his hands and feet to the hurting children of this world. God loves these children infinitely more than I do, but he has given us the resources to DO SOMETHING. We as the Church are supposed to be his hands and his feet. It's time we stop talking about it and step up and do something. I've been asking God what this looks like in my life now in Thailand and in the future. I pray you will do the same.

I've been reading a book called Fields of the Fatherless by Tom Davis, and in it he writes:

"The definition of compassion is involvement. To be compassionate means to get out of the boat of our current circumstances and get into the boat of those who are suffering."

But most importantly there's the life and example of Jesus. He let the little children come to him, he met the physical hunger needs of the 5000, he touched the lepers and the bleeding woman, he talked to the unpopular and the outcast, he was the complete definition of compassionate involvement. And as Christians, as followers of Christ who put him at the center of our lives, aren't we supposed to be following his example? I know that is my prayer in my own life as I pray for these little ones.

Then he said to them, "Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. For he who is least among you all-he is the greatest."

-Luke 9:48

**My team is talking with various organizations that will transition Sumalee and Kanya (along with their 2 sisters) out of the bars and into a safe home and provide them with education. We are looking for sponsors for these girls so they can live in a safe place, go to school, and still help their families, without having to sell their bodies. Please pray about sponsoring a girl. Please e-mail me if you have any questions and can help these beautiful children live the life God has planned for them.

Monday arrived after a weekend of praying for Lina and Imani. We went to work at our organization and there we saw Lina holding her baby girl. She hadn't given her up for adoption! Instead, she was holding her close and grinning, saying when she went to sign the papers (on Saturday at the same time we were sitting in the cafe!) that would forever separate her from her daughter, she just couldn't do it. The possibility of working at this organization was presented to Lina and she was thrilled, so Katie and Kristen took her to talk to the director. After an interview she was accepted into the program and would begin training the next day in the sewing room! That day Lina told Katie and Kristen: "My dream is that I would be able to live in a small house with my daughter, and work in a job with dignity." Her dream was coming true.

Tuesday morning the five girls on my team, Lina, Imani, and their one box of possessions piled into a tok tok. We were heading to move her into her new home so she could begin her work at the organization. This brave woman was visibly nervous but excited as she put her trust in practical strangers and an organization she knew little about. We arrived at their new home where they would be living in a one room apartment; an apartment complex that housed other women from this organization. I was thrilled: she would have community! Exhausted from lack of sleep, she sat down in her bare apartment with her one box. We told her she was safe and to rest, we would be back soon. And then we went shopping! We went to the market and bargained all afternoon for items that would help make this room feel like a home. She had nothing, and we had the privilege of furnishing this woman's home with the essentials.

Today, Katie and I went to visit Lina and Imani. We walked into her home to find her visiting with her new friend, another woman who has recently found a new life. We then went to the organization where she works and arrived just in time for their weekly chapel service. As worship began, I looked around at all the faces that surrounded me. Each one had a story, but more important was the work of restoration that was occurring in every life in that room. In that moment I was absolutely in awe of God's goodness and faithfulness as Lina and Imani sat down beside me, listening to praises fill the room.