Dirty Little... Slut?

"Don't come home until you can bring me 500 Lempiras!"  I am sure that she was never told to sell herself. I am almost positive that she never wanted to offer her body to make the money. But I know that making that money in one day in this country doesn't happen very often. Unless, you are willing to work the streets! Every day the words, names, actions that surrounded her implied what she was to become. "You dirty little slut! You are worthless! You are good for nothing! I would rather be spliced with chicken wire than have to continue to look at your face! Don't you dare come home without that money."

I know that this week my own family is eating the basic rice and beans because we just haven't had the income. In a country where even with a college degree you are probably only going to make $600 a month. In a country where meat, gas, eggs, and milk are more expensive than where I lived in the States. In a country where the average income is only a few dollars a day. I can kind of "get it", you know? 

What if the label already ran in the family? Why wouldn't an hour of my time, no matter how miserable it was, be okay if it meant I had milk and bread for my kids? There are many that do it for free. Why is she more guilty? Because she received pay? Isn't sin, SIN? Who has the power to rate the degree of sin? When you speed? When you don't wear a seat belt?  Isn't it all breaking the law? How and who gets the priveledge of defining the level of offense? This has been my reply to my staff.

Forgive me now, this will probably be too much for you to handle. 

I have an employee that was/is a prostitute. And I will not fire her because of it. I am not capable.

For two years I have had the desire to work with prostitutes. I have longed to have donors designate funds for me to pay the girls for their time. Take them to dinner. Love on them. Be a friend. And send them home. Why? Because I know most of them are required to perform this way. They know without money in their pocket they will be beat. They know they will be gang raped on their way back home when their performance hasn't pleased El Jefe. They know their family will be hurt. They really don't have many options to escape their inevitable reality. Even if they don't want the red light outside their window the gang will just put it back up again tomorrow.

I believe she started for the same reason. I know that she was forced into some acts by family because of stories she has entrusted to me. I just never knew the depth. I never knew how recent. I never knew... Maybe I should have asked.

She is loyal. She is a hard worker. She is the most dependable worker we have. She is grateful. She is so grateful that she comes to me weekly with hugs and tears full of gratitude for the opportunity. On Easter Sunday she profusely thanked me for changing her life and allowing her to feel loved for the first time.

Frankly, I don't care what she was known for in her past. I know that she can have a future. I don't see her past choices affecting our kids. Actually, I see it helping her encourage them more in their studies and helping her to constantly remind them of their current opportunities. 

This wasn't my idea. I never planned on having a prostitute for hire help us with the ministry. Rahab married into one of the leading families in Israel. I can only imagine the judgement that came upon them. I would bet a million dollars her husband never dreamed he would one day marry the town whore. And the in-laws... I laugh as I think about dinner conversations as he suggests the idea and says "Mom, I'm gonna marry her anyway." What was God thinking as He allowed all of this to happen? Oh, you know, probably about how He could best accomplish His work because she was the willing servant that didn't give a crap about anything other than doing what she believed was right in her heart.

The balls it took for Rahab to betray her people. She was already an outcast. She was viewed as less than. She was probably disowned by her only family because of her lifestyle. She still stuck her neck out on the line for these "men of God". When you read the story and actually pay attention, she acknowledges that these men were sent "By the ONE true God." Imagine that. She chose, I mean the harlot decided, to help accomplish the will of God. Because of her heart to serve she married up! Not a little up... Big up! And check out the genealogy... The blood line that leads up to our Savior.

She is beautiful. She is valuable. She is worthy of second chances. She can bring a piece to the table that we are all missing. Help me love her! It is easy when I feel the need and can relate. It is easy, some of the time. In the midst of the ridicule... It is so hard. (I feel kind of skitzo because in my head it is more like this:  She is beautiful, slut. She is valuable to her pimp daddy. She is worthy of second chances to bring home more dough.) I want to cry as I write these thoughts. Whether flying through my head in a joking manner or not. It isn't fair. Not to her. Not to her family. Not to her kids. She is a treasure. Not because of who she can blow and how much dough she can bring home. She is a treasure because she, like me, is covered in the same blood. Her Savior, is mine. Her daddy, He is mine. He sees His daughter. His beautiful little girl. Worthy of nothing, yet she inherits EVERYTHING. She is the daughter of the same King. Her father, like mine, owns the cattle on a thousand hills. She is adopted into the family, forgiven of everything, crazy history wiped clean... I mean blank slate.                  She is beautiful.                 She is a princess.

So many times my part in the ministry has nothing to do with the kids at all. It is more about the staff. I need an open heart that is always willing to go the extra mile. Even if an entire town will judge you for it. I need the strength and stamina to continue pushing and pulling out staff in the right direction. Helping them heal and leading them to wholeness. I need the understanding so I don't join the rest as fingers are pointed and as judgement is cast down. Wisdom to say the right thing at the right time and that it would help to bring a calm in the midst of chaos. I need... To not care about the ugly truth of the past of any of them, but to continually see them as He does.

I didn't plan to save a prostitute. It just kind of happened. Now I have to not throw in the towel and quit on her like everyone else in her past...
Hey Val! I guess we finally started that side of the ministry. Ready or not. It just kind of happened! Help me!