"For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning."- Psalm 30:5
Growing up in a quiet Christian family I never thought I would witness this. I never thought that I would see bar tops full of pole dancers gyrating to pulsing music. I never thought I would observe a woman being approached by four men to purchase for the night. I never expected to see five and six year old boys playing connect four with scantily clad women at a bar, while their parents shot whiskey in the background. The last two weeks had prepared me what to expect on Banga-la Road, and although I was not shocked, I was still appalled and heartbroken.
What hope is there in a place like this? With over 200 bars and 1200 bargirls, will we make a difference? These thoughts echoed through my head as I walked along the crowded road our first night out in ministry. Yet there it was. A flicker of hope, a bursting joy welling out of my heart. This joy is not cicumstancial. It does not depend on what I know or see. This joy and hope are credited to WHO I know. To put it bluntly, to the spirit of the living God, which dwells in me. He is not limmited by my understanding or boundaries. The earth is his and all who dwell in it.
As I looked across the Janga tower at the young Thai woman I had to smile. God nudged me, "Yes, she is worth it. If only one woman were to walk away from her job and get the oppportunity to hear about me, she is worth sending 24 of my daughters after. I am crazy about her, and I will go to whatever lengths to call her to myself. I will make the difference. You just be obedient and I will break the strongholds."
"Your move" I announced as I removed a Janga piece and set it atop the tottering pile.
