In front of me sat Milly, a young girl with long eyelashes and an innocent, pretty smile. She quietly whispered that she was nineteen, before dropping her eyes to the ground. Eighteen is the legal age to be able to work in the bars in Angeles City, the strip frequented by foreign tourists. Many girls are forced to lie about their age, and in reality Milly could very well have been 15 or 16. Around us sat men men from every life stage, some in their twenties to early thirties, through middle age, and the oldest looked like he might very be in his late sixties. They sat around in groups or on their own, staring at the girls with empty eyes. Milly seemed relieved that we had invited her over to talk.
For a few minutes, she was safe.
Together the five of us, my team of four and our new friend, talked about our families, our hobbies and our favourite music. Milly thought it was funny that I loved country music, and she giggled even harder when my friends told her that they had seen real live cowboys and cowgirls back in Texas.
I locked eyes with her, and asked her simply, if she liked her job. She tried to blink back the tears that overflowed down her cheeks.
No.
Her answer was short, but heavy.
"It's just they have no money for food...my family has no money to eat. I don't know how else to help them."
I let the moment carry its weight, nodding my head slowly and letting a few moments of heavy silence ensue.
Then, I smiled at her, inched closer, and with the excitement of sharing a secret with a dear friend, I asked her what her dreams were...what she wanted to do more than anything in the world.
"Business! I want to be a businesswoman!" Bursting with a excitement, she told me that she was good at math, really good.
As I told her all about Wipe Every Tear, the opportunity to go to college, and the big beach vacation that the organization is hosting for women who worked in Angeles City, tears returned to her eyes. "You're so kind, she said. No one is ever this nice to me."
As I left the bar that night, my heart was a little more broken, which I think is exactly the condition God wants my heart to be in. It causes me to "seek justice, love mercy and walk humbly with my God". ( Micah 6:8).
Two days after meeting Milly, I sat on a bus filled with 38 women and girls who wanted to come tour the safe houses.
Women and girls willing to take a chance at a better life.
They are willing to take a chance.
And so, I have been asking myself....if I want the girls around me to be brave, shouldn't I be doing the same thing ? Leaving for a new life takes courage, especially when life experiences make it next to impossible to trust. But if God can make them brave, can't He do the same for me?
When I was younger, I was obsessed with books about every type of injustice. I devoured books about the slave trade, passionately frustrated that some people were treated as less than human. I couldn't read enough literature about the Holocaust , and Anne Frank was my hero. I remember thinking to myself that if I had have lived during the times of slavery or injustice, I would stand up for what was right.
And so just as I thought historical slavery was wrong and am inspired by those who have fought against it, I must be in the fight now. And because the God of the universe actually lives in me, because His Holy Spirit is alive and active in me, and I cannot remain silent.
He has allowed me to see parts of this world that have lit a fire in my heart that will not be blown out.
And because of the tears in Milly's eyes, I am staying in the fight.
It's scary to type these words, committing myself to a mission that will likely last a lifetime.
But because of Milly, and so many other girls I've met....being brave, and trusting God with the rest is all that I can do.
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