Every story is like a tapestry. It begins with simple, singular threads. Colors, lengths, styles, and textures all woven together for one purpose. When they stand alone, threads are nothing grand. It's when they find their place within the piece that makes them beautiful.
Our story began with a yes.
Before stepping on the soil of Thailand, we said yes to God in our hearts. Raising money, praying hard, packing bags, and traveling alone were part of that yes. Resisting fear, fighting insecurity, breaking down, and learning to love have been part of that yes. It's that initial yes that keeps us going.
Our days here have tested that yes.
We've read the books on slavery, watched the documentaries on Human Trafficking, and researched the latest statistics. Our minds are filled with information, but nothing prepared us for encounter. During the day, Pat Pong seems like many other streets in foreign cities: vendors peddling their goods, drivers unwilling to stop, and the occasional beggar asking for money.
It's unique and unassuming until the sun begins to set.
Within a few hours, it's transformed. The street has become a market with one primary good: sex. Flashing lights, loud music, and hundreds of people can't hide the truth. In this small part of Bangkok, four thousand women are selling their bodies. They all have their own stories. Some were sold to pay off debt, many are raising children and most are providing for their families.
Many have no choice, and the ones that do don't see it.
The first night, we walked the streets and prayed. We prayed for freedom from oppression, deliverance from the lies of the enemy and the strength of our own hearts. The next night, we went to Nana, another red light district. This was our first time in the bars. We sat and talked with girls, buying them drinks and giving them bracelets. It was hard and confusing. We left with many questions, but our answer was still yes. Last night, we went back to Pat Pong. Some played with children, while others went back to bars. Again we sat, bought them drinks, gave them bracelets and prayed for a miracle.
We asked ourselves the question: "Should we go into the bars?"
We wanted to know if it was worth it… if it was working. Today, we got our answer. Walking into a room of ex-prostitutes, we saw her, one of the women from the previous night. When we talked to her, she said in broken English, "I no more go go dancer." She was an answer to prayer. She was the miracle we've been waiting on.
And if we came, just for one, she's worth it.
Our story of Thailand is not finished, but something beautiful is being made. A group of girls from different places with various gifts, dreams, and aspirations are all coming together to add their own color to this masterpiece.
