And I was not okay with it.
Prior to that week in January, I had never heard of the issue of human trafficking, I had never realized there are more slaves now than ever before, I didn't know this was an issue globally, nationally, and locally.
I was standing in front of the cnn building, in downtown Atlanta, and I called my mom. I remember telling her, that there was such a burden, and a passion to do something, now that I knew. This was why I was created, I had to rescue, and being restoration to these girls.
In the following months, I went to Bolivia. I saw women on the streets, selling their bodies for just enough money to buy a meal for the week. I sat, and brushed and braided their hair in the park where they slept. I held their hands as I whispered how beautiful and loved they were. And I walked away every week, sobbing, because my heart was breaking even more.
When I returned home, I remember one particular conversation with a friend. I had just come home from Bolivia, and I wanted to go back permanently, but I kept bringing up the idea of "why not here". It was in those tender moments and conversations that God was drawing me to my own backyard.
At that time, and for the following years, I was working a job that required 50-70 hours a week. Some times I worked weekends, sometimes I put in 15 hour days, and sometimes I just slept at work. So as I began to really search out a ministry to be apart of, I could tell that it wasn't going to work out. These ministries wanted a commitment. They believe in consistency. I agreed whole heartedly, but I couldn't give that in those years. So I gave financially whenever I could.
With my job ending, I began looking for something in the non profit world where I could make a difference. I thought I found the perfect job. Education and prevention of human trafficking in brazil, while being home for some of the year. It was exactly what I had pictured. And God told me "no". There was no peace at all. So I declined the offer.
Last fall, I met with an incredible lady, and shared my heart. She cautioned me that what I want to do, and believe I've been called to do, is not for the faint of heart. She told me the best way to get myself ready while I wait of God was to read, research, pray, and prepare. She then gave me an extensive list of books to read.
So I began reading, and trying to prepare my heart. This stuff is the darkest and ugliest thing I have ever encountered. It is scary stuff, straight from the pit of Hell.
But the scarier and darker things I read, the more the fire inside of me grew.
The last few months have been chaos over here. There has been a lot of loss, in all areas. So I began to beg God to move. I just wanted to serve. I wanted to have renewed purpose. I needed to know that He was in this mess with me.
I had been praying about Pontiac, because I love Pontiac. It's close, and it's a mess. I serve at a homeless shelter whenever I can. I used to walk the streets early in the morning to give out breakfast. Pontiac feels like home to me.
And finally I saw God move. Doors were opened.
Tonight was the night. The night that I had begged God for. The night I had waited years for.
There were four of us. We went out to the streets of Pontiac, armed with sandwiches, bottles of water, little notes, and the power of prayer. We were ready to love some women on the streets in Jesus' name.
We had nine sandwiches, and we were able to hand out all of them. (All day long, I begged for God to give us enough people for as many sandwiches as we had, and He did.) We drove around, and later saw one lady eating an apple we had given her, and reading the little note I tucked in. It was such a beautiful moment, that I would have the honor to be the hands and feet of Jesus for a few hours.
We are committing to consistency. We will be out every Tuesday night, and we are praying for God to just use us.
Pray with us that the enemy be silenced, that the love of Jesus will shine brightly, and that we can meet some basic needs.
There is much more to share, but for now, this is enough.