Filtered by Tag: #Christmas
The One who made himself accessible, disarms me. He sets aside pomp and circumstance and gives me no reason to question motives. This One knows me, is willing to sit with me in the dank spaces of my heart and get a little dirty – even when my head makes no sense at all. With a quiet whisper an invitation is extended.
Read MoreWe don't love the word "rescue" in the context of prostitution and trafficking work, because the implication is that WE missionaries and social workers are doing the heroic and dangerous work of swooping in and carrying women away from this life, Indiana Jones-style. That's not what we do.
Read MoreAt Christmas-time we remember the baby Jesus, but the nativity is not about warm fuzzies. It's love amidst fear, hope in despair, and light forcing back the dark - smirking faces and off-key voices, it's all a part of the Christmas story.
Read MoreRecently, a staff member was ready to hand in his resignation after an exhausting (and rather loud) conflict with one of the women. I listened to his frustration, and realized that he was stuck seeing the small, bloody fights, but couldn't step back to see his vital place in the bigger war.
Read MoreIn the red-light district a block from our ministry center, there are 500 beds. As we do every Christmas, we enter each of the fourteen brothels there donning Santa Claus hats and proclaiming the gospel through Christmas carols. The administrators were, as always, remarkably accepting; some even genuinely enjoying the cheerful invasion. One administrator in particular pulled us aside and told our staff, "I've got a girl who's not doing well. Think she's about to die."
Read MoreDarkest Night of the Year. It’s the title of Over the Rhine’s Christmas album, but the words themselves seem to be the mantra to which I walk as I pass in and out of brothel doors. Every time I enter these places, I have let my eyes adjust to the dim red glow of the interior; I have tried to block out the mixed smell of alcohol, sex and urine; I have swallowed the never-dulling shock and disgust of passing an exiting client as I make my way toward one of my friends. Tonight somehow feels different, darker in a way that didn’t seem possible before…
Read MoreAl son de “Noche de paz” cantamos: “Noche de amor, noche de paz.” Se siente casi irónico. ¿Cómo puedo cantar al amor y la paz en este lugar donde se profanan las más bellas expresiones de amor…
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