My heart is where my passion is. I have a passion for helping others gaining freedom, a passion for women finding their true identity, a passion for women to know they are worthy of love and belonging. Real love and belonging, not just being used for a someone else’s pleasure.
Here in Mongolia, us counseling students have been given the chance to work with a ministry called Streams in the Desert, which rescues women who have been sex trafficked. On Monday, two of us were given the chance to go out on to the streets with some of the Streams staff. Though I knew it would be hard, I still desperately wanted to go. I had some time in the morning to intercede for the women I would be meeting that night on the streets and spent some quiet time with God, asking Him to show me the women and pimps through his eyes, not mine. I suddenly became physically weak with an intense feeling of fear. I thought it was probably just nerves about the evening, seeing as it was dangerous. Suddenly I started sobbing. I couldn’t control it, the tears and shortness of breath just kept coming. I was confused because I didn’t feel like these tears were for me, but if they weren’t for me, who were they for?
The evening came and we set off to the streets of Ulaan Baatar with tea and coffee. It wasn’t anything like I had imagined. We were in a very rich part of the city and most of the prostitutes were older than I expected.The women we saw would stand on show with their pimps close beside them.We saw men approach the pimps, pull them aside to negotiate, then walk away with the prostitute. It was hard to witness, especially seeing some women return to their pimps with tears in their eyes.
My heart broke for these women, and it hit me that my weeping from that morning had been for them. I wept because they don’t let themselves weep, they block their tears and pain. They are so lost and trapped in this lifestyle and couldn’t even see the door wide open they can escape to. Every part of me just wanted to tell these women they are so beautiful and loved; that they are worth so much more than this, but the spiritual warfare was intense and the place felt so dark and evil.
Even though it is sometimes dangerous and the pimps are watching, it is the women’s choice to leave and come with us or to stay. Our intentions were to just love them and show there is a way out and that we are willing to help them. But they have to choose it and make that first step: escape. Some women do choose to leave, but most are too stuck in the lies they are told that they stay with their pimps.
I pray that these women find their worth in their true identity and not through money and lies. I pray for boldness and courage to find freedom, and to want it. I pray for hope.
Mandy Griffin – FCM Student, July, 2015