I leave a lot of blogs sitting in drafts. I wrote this last year, in September of 2016 and never posted it. Oddly enough today I had another moment similar to this, and then I stumbled upon these words I wrote last year. I wish I had shared these words then, but I needed them again today so I am sharing them now.
September 9, 2016
Sometimes the best part about my job and ministry is the hardest. It is so easy for me to do this job. I can just talk about trafficking, meet with clients, go to the clubs..and be totally fine. When it gets hard is when I lean in and start praying for the people I come in contact with. It is easy and sometimes amusing to meeting with a group of teenagers for an hour and talk about prostitution and pimps. Those moments become hard, and real when I spend time before and after praying for each child. When it goes beyond just this concept of what trafficking and exploitation is and it turns into the real people in front of me that is hard. I have gotten really good at not caring even when the person is right in front of me. It slays my heart though when I being to pray. Pray for justice. Pray for relief. Pray for hope. Pray for these things in the lives of the people I serve. It is the hardest and easiest part of my job. How can I not pray for my clients? But at the same time how can I and carry on? My heart has been heavy for days because on Tuesday as I got in my car to drive to a group home to meet with some of their girls I decided to pray. I prayed that these girls would love Jesus. I prayed that they have never and will never experience exploitation. I prayed that this group home is a turning point from them and that they go on to live "normal" lives. Usually in my groups we never talk about what the girls want to be when the grow up but somehow in this group it came up at the end. Each girl chimed out what she wanted to be when she grew up. Some nurses, some social workers, some teachers. When I got in my car I wept and I prayed. I wept and I prayed because of those 11 girls around the table they will not all become nurses and social workers and teachers. At a young age their lives are already so tough. Several of them have children. But I prayed fiercely as I drove to my next presentation that each girl in that room will some day be a nurse, a social worker, a teacher. A wife, the best mom, the best friend. Healthy. Whole. Jesus loving. That could have just been part of my job on Tuesday but it has consumed my whole week because I chose to pray.
September 9, 2016
Sometimes the best part about my job and ministry is the hardest. It is so easy for me to do this job. I can just talk about trafficking, meet with clients, go to the clubs..and be totally fine. When it gets hard is when I lean in and start praying for the people I come in contact with. It is easy and sometimes amusing to meeting with a group of teenagers for an hour and talk about prostitution and pimps. Those moments become hard, and real when I spend time before and after praying for each child. When it goes beyond just this concept of what trafficking and exploitation is and it turns into the real people in front of me that is hard. I have gotten really good at not caring even when the person is right in front of me. It slays my heart though when I being to pray. Pray for justice. Pray for relief. Pray for hope. Pray for these things in the lives of the people I serve. It is the hardest and easiest part of my job. How can I not pray for my clients? But at the same time how can I and carry on? My heart has been heavy for days because on Tuesday as I got in my car to drive to a group home to meet with some of their girls I decided to pray. I prayed that these girls would love Jesus. I prayed that they have never and will never experience exploitation. I prayed that this group home is a turning point from them and that they go on to live "normal" lives. Usually in my groups we never talk about what the girls want to be when the grow up but somehow in this group it came up at the end. Each girl chimed out what she wanted to be when she grew up. Some nurses, some social workers, some teachers. When I got in my car I wept and I prayed. I wept and I prayed because of those 11 girls around the table they will not all become nurses and social workers and teachers. At a young age their lives are already so tough. Several of them have children. But I prayed fiercely as I drove to my next presentation that each girl in that room will some day be a nurse, a social worker, a teacher. A wife, the best mom, the best friend. Healthy. Whole. Jesus loving. That could have just been part of my job on Tuesday but it has consumed my whole week because I chose to pray.