Trigger warning: sexual abuse, sexual content.

He asked her to go to the bathroom on him, and vomit on him, but she couldn’t do it (she tried).

He was 26, and she was there for his pleasure, but she got scared when she saw blood on a pillow in the room they were in so she decided to leave. Safety first. She didn’t get paid, even though he got off at least once, she couldn’t perform the other acts. She paid for a taxi and got out of there.

Meet O (that’s what we’ll call her). O is a “free lancer”, offering her body for service. She is on her own. No pimp or brothel, just the street and her willingness to do this work in order to pay off her husbands debts. Her husband, who is a “bad man, only thing he hasn’t done is kill someone.” Her husband who won’t grant her a divorce. Her husband and his parents who keep her 7 year old from her because of her work, even though she does the work because she owes six banks on account of him.

She tried working at “company” but couldn’t make what she needed. She’s 33.

“What was your dream when you were a little girl?” We ask. “To have a perfect marriage.”

Now she spends her nights trying to convince men to wear condoms when she gives blow jobs because she doesn’t feel safe, but they refuse.

Her hair is long and black, her nails are perfectly manicured. She doesn’t wear makeup. She says, “I don’t look smart, but I’m smart.”

“I throw my dignity away so I can pay off my debts and then get out of this work. People insult me, look down on me. I like being around my friends who do this work too because they don’t insult me.”

We ask her when she will be able to get her daughter back. She says, “When the grandparents die.” She has no rights.

She a free lancer. She is un-dignified to those around her.

“What are you dreams now?”

“Not to be in perfect marriage, but to depend on myself.” She is proud of this, that she can provide for herself. Oh, and also take care of her mother. She does that too.

I think of Fantine from Les Misérables and the words of the famous song, I Dreamed a Dream:

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame…
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

We ask her if she wants her daughter doing this work and she says emphatically, “Absolutely no.”

This isn’t a job you want, it’s a job you do. For her, it’s to pay off debt and care for her mother, for others it’s to eat. She tells us the prices are going down on the streets for the work she offers because some women are so desperate to eat that they give themselves for cheap. This lowers prices all around. “Customers are smart.”

I want to hold her hands and tell her, “It’s all going to be okay. You don’t have to do this. Let me help you.” But I can’t do that because I can’t help, not really, and I don’t know if things will be okay. I don’t know if she’ll ever get out of this work. I don’t know what will happen to her.

She says she hasn’t had work in three or four days, so this was good, “to tell my story.” We are paying her for an hour to sit with us. The hour goes quick and I just want to keep her.

She has dignity. She is not lower because of her work. She is doing her best.

I look at her in the eyes and I tell her, “You are dignified. You are not low. You are beautiful.”

She smiles.

She hugs us all.

And she goes back to work.

SM

The Exodus Road needs monthly partners to keep on in this really awful, deeply good work. Will you help? For $35 a month you can fund an investigation that will help free girls from sex slavery. Learn more HERE.

Trigger warning: sexual abuse, sexual content.

That’s what Matt Parker of The Exodus Road told us.

We were going to get baptized into the red light district. We were going to go out and walk the famous “walking street” where thousands of people come from all over the world to see and touch and taste a vast menu of sexual options.

Whatever you want, you know.

Signs being handed out every couple of feet; just pick what you want.

So many to choose from. Just pick a number.

And here I am sitting and watching, maybe 20 girls, on two stages at the first bar. They look bored. Some are dancing, some are barely moving to the loud music, some catch my eye and smile. I look over at the old man next me and the young, beautiful girl next to him. Her hand is on  his leg. His shirt is unbuttoned and white hair curls out. I look at her face and she is looking down. She’s sad or maybe resigned, I don’t know. Both. He pulls out his money and she just stares at it. Yes, sad and resigned.

Matt calls a girl over for me so we can talk. Of course we can’t talk because I don’t speak her language. But I smile and she puts her drink up to mine. “Cheers!” She smiles. We sit. Matt talks with her and he tells me where she’s from. She is wearing a bikini and a number. We just keep smiling.

Next bar.

This one is the dive; it’s dirty and unkept. But the girls are more aggressive. Two come up to us with shots and are giggling. They want to know why myself and Alece are with Matt. He must be a strong man to have two girls. He tells them we met in a hotel and that we wanted him to take us to walking street. They giggle. They speak some English. They keep trying to give us shots. They like to try and guess my age. One says I look 39. I laugh. We ask questions and giggle with them, but the veneer is thick. We move on.

Third bar.

More naked bodies. But by the third bar the bodies are just bodies and it’s true what Matt says: “You have to look past the skin and see their soul.”

This is a nice bar. It’s clean and the vibe is cool and the music is thumping. The girls are trying harder. I look around and see lap dances and sex acts. Over in the corner I see one man, early 30’s, shoving his head into in between a girls legs. She keeps pulling away, trying to laugh. He stands up and forces himself to her face, pulling money out. Another girl is on his other side and I watch her smile and then look angry. She is not happy with him. He turns to her and starts kissing her and then turns to face the other girl and she is visibly disgusted; she wipes her mouth off. He keeps trying to get his kicks for free, but the one girl finally gets up and goes back on stage. She does not like that man. He gets up and I notice that as a last act of power he grabs her rear end as he walks out the door. She just keeps on, dancing on stage, moving along. This is just the way it is. Matt calls over the other girl, the one still in the booth, the one who had been groped and pushed and kissed and assaulted. He buys her drink and we give her at least 20 minutes of relief.

More girls come over, one for each of us. They try to give us lap dances. They want to know if we like ladies. They giggle and I say, “Can we just sit? Let’s just talk.” We fumble through. I try to tell them they are beautiful. One girl is at University studying to be a lawyer. She says this land is the land of smiles, “happy happy all the time.” I look into her eyes. I don’t say anything. She says, “Well, not happy all the time.” No, of course not.

We pay for our drinks and we go back to the hotel. We are supposed to debrief, share our feelings, talk about what we saw.

I feel nothing.

I don’t know why. I feel like maybe I’ve just been to Vegas and this is all just so normal. It’s not. But it looks like a big party. Everyone is just having a good time.

This is the narrative. It’s all good, these girls choose this, we’re all just having a good time.

I’ve been baptized into the red light district, but I feel like I’ve only just had my toe in the water.

There is an ocean to go. But I’m not afraid anymore to look. I’m not afraid to see. And that’s the beginning, to know that I can look and see and I am stronger than I think I am (by God’s grace). I can do this work. I will do this work because it’s holy work and Jesus is here in these dark places and the Kingdom is on fire here.

SM

Want to be a part of this work? Keep following along with me. You can learn more about The Exodus Road and become a partner, helping to free slaves, HERE.

My husband sent me these beautiful flowers when I was sad. It was a first. He’s learning to love me (and understand me) more with each year we are married.

Back in November I was really struggling with a downcast soul (as David calls it).

I couldn’t wash my dishes without crying. I couldn’t seem to do the laundry or make meals or even get out of my chair. I just felt so…defeated. Weary. Sad. And there was no specific reason for it; I just seem to be a bit predisposed to discouragement from time to time. And when it hits, it hits. I have no control over it. In fact, this last time it hit, I just rested in it. I didn’t fight it.

Today I wrote an article on doing the work even if you feel lazy. A sweet woman commented and said that it’s hard to do the work when you feel depressed. I told her that post wasn’t for her, and to rest and be gentle with herself. Here are few more things I want to say to those of you who are just feeling discouraged, or sad or weary, but you are still trying to make a home.

*If you are severely depressed or the dark days never end, please talk to a doctor.

The Only Way Through is Through

If you are struggling with depression or discouragement, I have found that you can’t rush it. You can’t just climb out of the dark place, you have to walk through it, one step at a time. But you are not alone.You have the Holy Spirit with you as a guide. Which brings me to my next thing…

Ask the Holy Spirit

Sometimes I forget that I have the power of the Holy Spirit inside of me and that I can ask Him what is going on. The Scriptures say the the Holy Spirit is my counselor, comforter, guide, and advocate. I have access to His wisdom. “What is going on here? Help me? Comfort me, guide me, show me the way I should go with this.” I do not have to go through the dark times alone.

Don’t Isolate Yourself

I have a tendency to crawl away and hide when I’m feeling depressed. I don’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone, and I really don’t want to inconvenience anyone. What a lie from the enemy! God gives us friends and relationships and puts people around us because life is hard and we need each other. When I try and hide away, my friends hunt me down. Sometimes I lie to them and say I’m fine, but they know. It’s so good to be honest and vulnerable, because they offer lifegiving words to my weary bones. They speak truth over the lies I tell myself. They bring me flowers or coffee, or just listen to me. If you are feeling discouraged and you want to hide away, call someone. Talk to your husband. Reach out to someone.

Ask for Help

If the laundry is piling up along with the dishes, ask for help. Can your husband or a friend or your kids help out? Even something, some help, is better than nothing.

Do One Thing

My friend Joanna reminded me recently that when she is feeling down, she tries to do just one thing. She said to me, “I operated under the false assumption that I had to feel like cleaning my house.” When she doesn’t feel like cleaning, she purposes to do just one thing. Sometimes that’s all we can accomplish. That’s okay. One thing.

Be Gentle With Yourself

It is so easy to beat up on yourself during the dark times. I always feel like a failure when I’m in the dark, and I speak words of failure over myself. No good. The enemy will whisper lies to you and you will believe them so easily when you are harsh with yourself. God is kind and gentle, He is our gentle Father, and gentleness is all throughout the Scriptures. How can we be gentle with others if we can’t first be gentle with ourselves? Friend, in the dark times, speak kind words to yourself, listen to the truth, and cut yourself some slack. Be gentle with who you are and where you are. You are loved and looked upon with compassion. Try and see yourself through those kind of eyes, the compassionate kind.

Slow & Steady

There are no rules with how you have to clean your home. We are all different, and we all go through different seasons, and during the dark ones, take it extra slow and steady. No rush. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: Slow, seek Him in the still place. Steady, lean on the firm One. 

Ask God if There is Something You Need to Repent Of

During my time of depression last fall, I kept telling one friend of mine that even though I felt so sad, I could still feel God’s kindness all around me, it was so odd. I kept repeating to her how kind God was, and she said, “I hear you keep using that word, kind. Look at this.” And she opened up the Scriptures to Romans 2:4, “…the kindness of God leads you to repentance…” I was familiar with the verse, but hadn’t thought about it. Could there be something I maybe needed to repent of? I asked the Lord, and I was very encouraged to be reminded that He is not mean or punishing to me, but gentle and kind, especially when leading me to something I need to repent of. And here’s the thing about repentance, it isn’t always something a thing, like spending less time online, or quitting yelling at your kids, or whatever. It might be an attitude. You might need to repent of trying to fix yourself. Or maybe you need to repent of believing lies. I don’t know, but I do know that if you’re discouraged yet you feel God’s kindness all around you, perhaps you can just ask Him, “Is there anything I need to repent of?” There might not be anything at all, but there might be.

Buy Flowers

If you can swing it, buy some cheery flowers to put on your dining room table. There is something about flowers that brighten the soul.

Worship

When the dark times come, and likely they will continue from time to time, and I know I have to just walk through them, I listen to worship music. I let the words of truth and praise wash over me, and I sing them back to God because even in the dark times, He is with me and He is light. I encourage you not to listen to music that holds you down in the dark, but praise God instead; let your soul be lifted.

“Then I will go to the altar of God, To God my exceeding joy; And upon the lyre I shall praise You, O God, my God. Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why are you disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God.” Psalm 43:4,5

With love and compassion, Sarah Mae

This is a post from my husband, Jesse. I asked him to write this because of all the letters I get from women who feel they can’t meet the standards their husbands have for them when it comes to cleaning their homes. I get it. Jesse used to be like this. We talked about it and I asked him what changed. This post is his answer.

“What have you been doing all day?! The house is a disaster!”

We had 3 young kids. Two were toddlers and one was still a baby. I couldn’t for the life of me understand how dishes were overflowing, last weeks dirty clothes were still on the floor, crumbs from last nights dinner still lingering and the house looked worse than when I had left the same morning at 6:30am.

How is it possible that a house is in worse shape than when I left it? At the very least it would be slightly cleaner. I was irritated and some days quite angry. I worked all day and was exhausted, and here my wife is a stay at home mom and the house looks like a disaster. So naturally I walk in stepping on some things and harshly and sarcastically ask what she had been doing all day. On days when I had a hard day that seemed chaotic it felt like I was switching one form of chaos for another. The wanting to come home to a place of order where I felt like I could relax was very important to me.

This went on for a long time…as in, years. It became a contentious part of our relationship. I would leave for work come home, say sarcastic back handed comments about the house (I was and am very good at sarcasm) hoping it would motivate Sarah to clean more, not caring what the fallout was from the comments were as long as the house was getting clean(er).

There was one weekend in particular she had gone away for a few days and I was home with the kids by myself. I had made it a mission to passive aggressively prove that it CAN be done. To manage a house well having it cleaned top to bottom every single day that she was gone. Let me tell you I had the house spotless for 3 days straight. And I let her know it. She came home happy to see us all after she had been away and she was surprised to see the house so clean. I through my snide sarcastic comment that in a nut shell expressed how easy it was and that it can be done. Well….that killed a sweet homecoming and thus continued our feud. I didn’t really care, I thought the end justified the means.

This contentious part of our relationship started spilling into other parts as well. I’m not sure what caused the change but I do know this: I asked myself, “Self, why are you putting so much pressure on your wife to have a spotless, clean house 24/7? Is it not enough that she loves our children well and manages to keep the home chugging along? Is it worth having a contentious marriage in exchange for a spotless house? If she puts more energy into having a solid clean and tidy house will she be stealing some of that energy that is being put into raising our children?”

I started coming home and not badgering her about the home. And strangely, our relationship got better. (Shocking…I know – insert sarcasm here). The reality was on the weekend that she had left when I had the house spotless, the house was not as pleasant. I was hard on the kids to help me clean and maintain it being clean. That was probably one of the more miserable times I had with the kids by myself. You see, when Sarah is away a few times a year, I absolutely look forward to it because it means I get to hang out with my kids and have fun. And we have a blast. Except for that one weekend, because I was too busy trying to keep the house clean and proving a point to Sarah that it can be done.

The reality is, it can be done, keeping a perfectly clean house, but there is a cost. (tweet that)

The cost for Sarah and I is a relationship that has tension. And lets say that tension is a mood killer…if you know what I’m saying ;).  I also realize that Sarah has a very tender heart and when I come into the house and start criticizing her it’s like running a bull dozer back and forth over her till she wilts. When I made the change it affected our whole home and also my marriage.  With all this said, she does strive to have a clean home and she does care. We ended up coming to an agreement. I had expressed to her that the most important thing to me when I come home to decompress is to be able to have one clean area to come home to. For me that is the living room. I have a great comfy chair I love sitting in and talking to Sarah about my day. This way if her day has gone crazy, it doesn’t take long to tidy up just the one area before I walk in the door. We have been doing this for years and it has help us out incredibly.

For the husbands out there, I know it can be frustrating coming home and asking how come the house is a disaster. But if your wife loves you, loves your children and is raising them well, then know it is just a season. Because one day the laundry, the dishes, the messy table, the muddy shoes and the toys will all be gone. It will be just the two of you. If you have spent your years muddling in the contention of how clean the house needs to be then the only thing you will be left with when its just the two of you is a messy relationship. The irony of trading one mess for the other I hope will not be lost. Compromise and be thankful for the richness of a loving wife and home. The mess will pass.

Jesse

I didn’t sleep through the night for seven years.

Those were the years of babies and toddlers and someone at some point was always awake or needed something or had a bad dream or threw up. This was life.

When my children got a bit older, a miracle happened: they all started sleeping through the night AND they started sleeping in (HANG IN THERE MOMS OF LITTLE ONES!). Which meant, I got to sleep through the night and I got to sleep in. You better believe I made up for those seven years by enjoying that sleep in time (and by sleep in, I mean 7:30/8:30-ish).

Those seven years I was in a fog. I was used to the fog though, so it wasn’t terrible, I was just tired all the time. I went to the doctor once to tell him I thought something was wrong with me because I was always so exhausted, and after a few questions he asked like, “How old are your kids? Are you still getting up in the middle of the night?” Etc., it was obvious that I was actually just tired from mothering.

After some good sleep-ins, I decided I wanted to be that person that got up early, spent time with Lord, and got stuff done before my kids got up. At one point last Spring I even started getting up around 4:30am to go workout. I always believed there was something special about getting up while it was still dark and enjoying some quite hours to myself; there is something peaceful about it. Plus, there are so many books on how getting up early is what all the successful people do. HUSTLE, they say. JUST DO IT, they say. YOU’LL GET SO MUCH MORE DONE, they say. So I did. I worked on getting up early. In fact, I spent 6 months getting up around 6am as a life experiment. I’m glad I did it. But you know what I learned?

I’m more tired when I get up early. I don’t get more done. I always need a nap.

Turns out, I function better when I sleep in a little bit. I’m happier. I don’t need a nap. I’m not exhausted all day. And? I’m more successful when I don’t get up early.

And here’s what I know about success:

Success for me is not feeling crummy and tired all day. It’s being kind. It’s doing the things I want to get done during my day, whether that’s writing or cleaning or visiting a friend or homeschooling my kiddos well and without being cranky. When I get up early, life is a foggy mess. I’m cranky, I’m tired, I get less done (because I’m cranky and tired), and I’m not the kindest person. And it doesn’t matter if I go to bed earlier. Speaking of which, my husband HATES when I go to bed early. He likes to stay up and he wants me to stay up with him. If I stay up, I definitely can’t get up early. I know this about myself. My husband has the amazing super-natural ability to stay up late and get up early. I do not have that super power.

ALL TO SAY… it’s okay to not be a ninja 5am-er. Maybe you’re a ninja 9am-er, or 10pm-er, or never because you’re just so tired and so WHATEVER. No ninja. That’s okay too.

The point is, don’t think you have to get up early to be successful. Everyone is different! God made it so. Embrace who you are, do what you gotta do, define success, and then? Onward!

SM