Bangkok, Thailand

My time in Bangkok is something that I am still trying to process. There is no way I can sum up my trip into this letter although I will try. Driving from the airport to Beginnings I was not expecting to see much but just in the short ride from the airport to the home we would be staying at we were slapped in the face with images I will never forget. Going I prepared myself as much as possible for the girls we would encounter and the men we would encounter but I was not prepared for everything else I saw in Bangkok. There is so much evil and poverty in that city. I have never been anywhere quite like it. People are dying on the streets from leprosy, a sickness that should not be killing people because it is so easily cured. Babies, as young as 2 and 3 years old are left to sleep alone on the streets of Bangkok. Children are being kidnapped and placed on street corners with a cup just to get a little bit of money. Women are being exploited and are being treated less than human as mans lust for sex and money continues to grow. They are being forced to act in the most vile and degrading ways in order to provide for their families. Slavery is running ramped in this world and we are turning a blind eye to it and walking the other way.

While at my time at Beginnings I made a friend with an amazing girl who has been fighting this evil for several months now. She told me of a vision she had after a difficult day at the bars. She saw Jesus wandering through the streets and he would stop and give money to the lepers and the poverty stricken. Then he would make his way into the Red Light District and he would stop and talk to the men who are exploiting the women and love on them then he would make his way into the bars and he would walk up to the women and he would hold them and love them like daughters. This image hit me so hard. These are the things that Jesus did everyday of his life on earth and now we are to be his hands and his feet. We are to love on these people. Give these women a little bit of dignity, even just for one night. I suppose that means even the men who I came to have a bitterness towards as the week went on. As much as my flesh does not want to admit it the men, the customers, are broken, lost souls in need of grace and forgiveness. That is a hard realization. Especially when you see the man in the bar drinking and purchasing a girl for the night all the while on his left hand is a wedding ring.

I had the privilege of meeting so many beautiful, broken women during my time in Bangkok. I had the privilege, along with my team members, of "purchasing" almost 400 girls in 2 nights and giving them a night of freedom. A night where they can act like little girls and forget all of the hurt and the pain. A night to hear about a Man that loves them unconditionally. A Man that will not exploit them, will not ask them to do degrading things with their bodies. A Man that would lay down his life for them. It was the first time a lot of these women had heard the Jesus. It was a beautiful picture as girl after girl stood up and received their first New Testament. About 50 girls raised their hands to accept Jesus. Although I cannot be certain what that means in their life I will not underestimate the power of the blood of Jesus Christ and how he works in small, quiet ways.

This trip has broken me unlike anything else I have ever experienced. I pray that I will never loose my passion for being the hands and feet of Jesus. That the images I encountered their will forever be burned into my mind and that I will still have days that I cry over these women. We are a culture that has become so callused to the things of this world that very little bothers us. I pray that this is something we will never remain callused to. That we will fight to end this slavery that is happening today. Even through all of the darkness and oppression happening in Bangkok as well as in our own backyard there is hope. We see that by the 400 girls who came to hear about Jesus for the first time last week and the 50 hands that were raised and the tears that were shed even though their culture teaches them otherwise.