End of Week 1

My first official week of training was finished on Wednesday. While it was an emotional day for many, I found myself....numb. There were no more tears to be shed. I guess there's only so much information you can take in until your mind goes into self defense mode. It didn't help that I was starting to get whatever sickness the rest of the family has (boo, hiss!), and I just wasn't feeling like myself.

I look at my girls--who are the ages of commonly trafficked girls--and I see their innocence. Their joy for life. And I wonder how anyone could do anything to take that away. How anyone could see that innocence and still treat them as a plaything? The Mama part of me wants to scoop all those children up and carry them away to parents who will love them and nurture them. The Mama part of me is angry at the men (and women) who abuse these precious little ones. The Mama part of me wants to beg God to wipe these individuals off the face of the earth. Like Sodom and Gomorrah. I know He could do it. And I know He is as broken-hearted and angry on behalf of these children as I am. Even more so.

But I also remind myself that, no matter how despicable I think these acts are, God still loves these men and women. Despite how I personally feel at this moment, they are not beyond salvation. Redemption. And so I will continue to pray that God will liberate these women and children. And I will continue to pray for revival. That God would raise up Christian men who can be an example and a witness to the men of the world. The scary thing is that there are even men who profess to know Jesus engaging in these acts. The very ones who should know better.

Yesterday, I was working on a presentation of Mexico I'm to give on Monday. I went through the "Operation World" statistics and found some information online that, unfortunately, confirms what we suspected: human trafficking is alive and well in Mexico. The statistics greatly disturbed me. I didn't think I could have any greater a burden for the people of that country. But I was wrong. After working on this presentation for the whole day, I was heartsick (as well as physically sick). I laid down in the bedroom to get some rest. And had what is probably the first of many dreams in which I was a trafficking victim. My dream was horrific in nature. But there is a huge difference between my nightmare and that of many young children around the world.

I woke up from mine to find it was only a dream. They are caught in their nightmare day in and day out. Fully awake and aware that this is no dream. It is their daily existence. Their living nightmare.