A couple weeks ago I led a group of 15 adults around Chiang Mai, Thailand, for a week-long Short Term Mission Trip. Coming from all backgrounds and with many different stories, each of these adults came to Thailand hoping to learn more about human trafficking and serve those the Lord put in front of them. They were an amazing group.
We had the opportunity to tour a couple different prevention and/or intervention homes. We also spent some of our afternoons going around Chiang Mai, following where the Lord led when we asked Him what He was doing in the city. We spent many of our evenings doing bar ministry.
Bar Ministry means different things to different people. With this group, it meant going into a bar, buying a girl a drink, and talking to her as a human being – learning about her life, seeing pictures of her children, looking her in the eyes and genuinely caring about HER.
It’s a difficult ministry and one we slowly got more and more comfortable with.
Our last night of bar ministry, we were ready! Worshipping and gearing up for an evening of conversations and laughter. Getting ready to walk into intensely dark places to shine Jesus’ light with excitement and passion.
We were ready.
But something happened in the atmosphere as we were worshipping. I could feel it as I was playing guitar. The Lord had something else in mind.
I could force my/our plan or we could be sensitive to His.
It just kind of happened.
Someone started sharing her story. And then one after the other, more stories. Almost everyone shared. Stories of brokenness – many including sexual abuse and trauma.
Every story had something in common. Each woman who shared her story of brokenness also shared hope. Every woman believed to the core of her being that God is good.
That’s the part that struck me deepest: Those that have undergone such trauma still said God is good.
I don’t know why God chose to have our last night of bar ministry turn out the way it did, but I do know that everyone leaving that room came out changed.
Shame cannot exist in light. Shame grows in silence and these women did fierce battle when they vulnerably shared stories many of them had never shared before. There is hope seeped into the very core of vulnerability.
“Thankful” isn’t a deep enough word to express what I feel for these women.
Their courage, their authenticity, their risk.
I’m changed because of it and I know I’m not the only one.
