{ If this touches anyone great. This post is me processing so it's written for me more than any guilt trip, feelings of sadness or depression that it may cause. You can also read more about this in a previous post here. }
Torture.
Torment.
Slavery.
A broken culture.
A daughter in need of rescue.
I knew what we were going to tour and the things we'd see, but nothing, absolutely nothing, quite prepares your heart for when you stand in the place such putrid acts were once performed in Svay Pak, Cambodia.
Nothing can guard your heart knowing a little girl; a mother's daughter, died on the wood slated bed in front of you from the slavery she was a prisoner to; tired, weak, hungry and alone.
Across the street another ex-brothel stands with the owners now selling food goods as their previous operation was shut down.
A community known to once be the most notorious epicenter of child-sex trafficking now slowly being redeemed and reclaimed by grace. God's mercy's are being made known through people like Chad, who willingly gave us a tour of AIM.
Our tour began in the first building where a church sits on the second story and a medical clinic operates below with volunteers giving out medicine and advice. The room through the gated doorway was packed with young and old seeking medical attention. The street outside strewn with trash, much like everywhere else in Cambodia. Dogs roam and try to smell your feet as well as chickens that will soon be dinner for some. Moto's line the street as the quickest means to travel, kids joyfully playing badminton in the dirt, some with shoes most without, and families of old sitting waiting for someone to buy a used bottle of gasoline, soda or fresh picked fruit to supply funds to feed their families. From a distance I hear an unpleasant cry.
The adjacent building is one that provides hope to kids where needs are not being met at home. It is the AIM Foster Home; a once operated brothel. Three little ones sat on the floor playing with the Foster Mom as she tried to calm one and the others beaming with smiles as we entered. The power had gone out earlier in the day so just the front room was lit as daylight filled the tile floor. Chad then walked us into the sleeping quarters where all the beds have been occupied with foster kids. There is no government paperwork that begins the moment the kids are dropped off. There is no government assistance or tracking for these kids. All the bunk beds were neatly made with bright colored sheets and linens. A painting of Jesus was largely displayed on the one cinder block wall. Look closely and you can see where walls once stood creating multiple private rooms where girls were sold to men; locals and foreigners.
It is a known location.
A single room has been left in remembrance to a chosen daughter who was left hungry, tired and her child-like, worn out body laid exhausted from the daily needs of sex-driven men. I did my best to hold myself together, but honestly, I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry out to God asking why.
The back door had been cemented shut so there was no option of escaping for these girls trapped in hell.
Upstairs is known as the Pink Room. This is where the virgins would be held and sold off at a high price. It was then I choked back more tears as all that went through my mind were our two precious, innocent daughters at home, who trust completely in us protecting them from all harm. Here the sparkle of a child is stolen as the parents, the ones held responsible for their child's life, are the one's placing them directly in harms way only to pay off a debt or make a little money. My heart shattered.
Down the street is where we met Matt who is in charge of the sewing factory. Again, with no power it was a quiet room with stilled sewing machines waiting to make their daily production goals and wages. There is beauty in what AIM has done taking over buildings and creating jobs for the locals. The women who work here are mostly not survivors to sex trafficking, but have connections to siblings or families that have been sold to pimps. Matt has provided security within these jobs and also a platform to share Christ to those that enter. A devotion time has been set aside and mentoring is provided. Matt's wife Sarah, operates the Foster Home.
Across the street is my favorite as a gym has been set up to engage the young men in a tangible way to create relationships within the community. Tires, boxing gloves and traditional fighting is being taught here, but more than that, Christ is being shown to men who otherwise would never have had the chance of knowing a forgiving God.
Around the corner sits another ex-brothel turned place of employment. This building has all rescued women sitting behind the sewing machines. When we walked through, the day was done and all the girls were upstairs in their English class as the organization provides multiple ways to keep the girls involved and not forced to go back to being sold. The primary goal is to protect the girls, integrate them back into the community and teach them how to properly care for their bodies.
I'm not sure I could have seen more. My eyes were stinging from the pain and anguish behind such amazing improvements to a war-torn community such as this one. There is good that is flourishing from such evil. The devil is struggling to take foot, but there is still immense work to be done.
Our tour was done, we said our goodbye's to Chad and we took our seats in the Tuk Tuk provided to get us back to our hotel. I had no words to share with Tim. I didn't know how to process what I heard and saw. I felt confused as to how any help would make a little difference. These volunteers packed up and have been living in these conditions for two to four years most with scars from locals stealing and accidents on the pot-holed dirt roads. A sacrifice I'm not sure I'd be able to fulfill if asked to go.
That night we met with the ground organizers, Pete and Debbie Livingston. What a joy to end a dark afternoon with the news they brought to the table that evening.
21 girls, ages 6-17, rescued just that morning; the potential of a higher number in the end being close to 100.
God is still good...
But...
I struggle knowing we serve a righteous and just God when many are still slaves to such horrific acts against them. I struggle knowing that on our way back we passed many KTV's (karaoke bars known to sell girls) and locals just pass by like it's another Starbucks on the street corner. I struggle to understand a culture that accepts these practices and doesn't want better for their people. I struggle to understand a male having no guilt in forcing himself upon a child.
"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners." Isaiah 61:1
I may not be able to do anything making a significant difference in the war over sex trafficking. I may not be able to pack up and move to hard areas such as all those working at AIM. I may not ever understand a culture that allows such torture to be done to their precious little ones.
I can pray. I can proclaim the truth through word and prayer that God will have His justice when the time is right. I can pray that more of these unprecedented raids will expose the faults of those benefiting from the actions of greedy men. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."
And what gives my heart a little ease, a peace knowing those on ground here in Cambodia, are sharing what many have never known...
"And he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them."
Mark 10:14-16
I will come home changed. I will come home with a different view and knowledge of something I never fully understood or maybe wanted to understand. A new need to protect what is commanded to be innocent until marriage will be guarded with my entire life. I will pray that someday, these little girls, not much older than our youngest, will someday know what it is to be loved, known and worth the protection of their Heavenly Father. To be loved without fear.
{ Chad Smith, our tour guide, in front of the medical clinic. }
{ The tan building, second on the left, ex-brothel now place of employment, provides funds for the ministry by creating screen prints and T-shirts to be sold internationally. Yes, that's sweat. It was very hot. }
No comments