Heart Hurt

I don’t know how to write this blog.  I’ve been processing all day, and I still don’t know how to put into words what I saw and felt last night.

We’ve been out in the bars several times already, at least 4, but the reality of what I was seeing didn’t really hit me until last night.  Coming on this trip I begged God to show me just a little glimpse of His heart and His pain, and I repeated that prayer before we went out.

That’s a dangerous stinking prayer.

It only took a few minutes for us to sense that something was different on Bangla Road.  Normally, there are a few children and families milling around the chaos, but last night they were EVERYWHERE.  Families with three or four children sitting on the sidewalk eating ice cream while strippers danced in plain sight across the street.  Two year olds being set in front of promiscuously clad ladyboys that tower over them and tease when they run away afraid.  Twelve year old boys with cameras standing with their families behind them, encouraged to take pictures of the “entertainment” around them.

I’d never been so angry.

And then we went to go see one of our friends on Soi Crocodile, one of the craziest and darkest streets on Bangla Road.  And it seemed especially dark.  Way less clothing than normal, more alcohol and women dancing more provocatively than I’ve ever seen.  We sat down to talk to our friend, but were interrupted when a family came in.  They were Iranian and on vacation and had their 8-year-old daughter with them.  They also wanted to get wasted, so they dropped this little girl off with our friend in the middle of the bar and went down the street to get a drink. (Mom was also 5 months pregnant.)

She was terrified.  She didn’t speak much Thai or English, but we tried to smile and make her feel as safe as possible as hell raged around us. 

And then this Thai man came up and touched her arm and made dancing motions- teasing that she was very beautiful.

Only the mercy of God kept me from knocking out his front teeth.

And then I was furious.  Who does this?  Parents are supposed to be the protectors!  They’re supposed to make sure that their daughter is safely tucked into bed where creepy men can’t gape at her… where she can’t see blatant lust and depravity all around her.  The images that she saw that night are things that no human, much less an 8-year-old one should see. 

My heart is broken for this little girl whose name I don’t even know, and who I will probably never meet again this side of Heaven.

But God has reassured me of this in the last few hours, in the midst of trying to teach me not to cast judgment on her parents:  He has better plans for this beautiful little girl than I could ever imagine.  He is the restorer of innocence- of sweet dreams and tea parties and summer days in the sprinkler.  He adores her and cherishes her beauty in ways that no one else ever will, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that He was protecting her last night.  I prayed all night that He would cover her with His wings and remove the images that she saw- that she might not even remember the next morning.  And He straight up told me that I don’t see the whole picture yet.  And I probably won’t for a long time. 

My brain isn’t supposed to be able to comprehend how a parent could put their child in that situation.  My mind has been transformed and doesn’t fit the pattern of this culture anymore.  And I praise God for that! What I do have to understand is that these people are lost- so incredibly lost.  And yet, in the midst of the depravity and shoddy parenting around me, God is faithful.  I can’t wait to meet this little girl in heaven- to learn her name and to hear her testimony about how the Lord saved her and protected her that night on Bangla Road.

[If you think about it, I covet your prayers for this little girl and her family.  Pray that God will bring healing and restored innocence to their family, and protection for this little girl and her unborn sibling.  Pray that they all know the love and forgiveness of their perfect Father.]