Sex for Sale

After the January World Racers left Swaziland, they went to Thailand to minister to girls caught in the sex trade. They befriend them, teach them that they are made in the image of God and have inherent dignity, and help them cultivate skills so that they don’t have to sell their bodies for money.

When I was 24, Fred Market paid for my first “1040 window” trip… a journey into the heart of the places of the earth that had not been reached with the message of Jesus Christ.

As I landed in Thailand, I noticed hundreds of men getting off the plane
with backpacks and water bottles; I asked in my naivety and ignorance,”What are you doing here?” There were men from England, America, and Australia. I
thought maybe they there were for a Promise Keepers meeting. Really! One
answered, “We are here to have sex with the girls.”

Fred walked me through warehouses with no windows and no way of getting out. We saw
baby girls, some maybe eight, some maybe as old as 18, servicing 10 to 25
men a day in prostitution.

The last night in Bangkok, I was down at a
street called Potpong Street, and there were young girls of all ages, lined up, ready to service any passerby.

I fell
in the middle of the street, in the sewer that was running past, crying
out to God. I asked, “Why? Why all this pain and perversity”? There was
no answer…

The next morning, while flying out of the country, the Lord
said very clearly:

“There is a little girl in the United States that
has one of the ‘keys’ to the prostitution and abuse in Thailand, Gary,
and I want you to find her.” This is one of those girls and her story.

From Stacy Utecht’s blog

:

80 girls, 2 stages…

XXX Shows…

Dancing girls….

“Come here, beautiful women!”

“Hello, Hello, Come here for lady boys!”

More than just the neon signs shout at me as I walk past. It is my
first night to walk the open bars and I am overwhelmed by a sense of
darkness.

With each level I climb, I feel more and more heaviness
laying on my chest. At points, it is even hard for me to physically
breathe.

There is really nothing you can do to prepare yourself to see
the Red Light district in Thailand. It is even hard to piece together
a thought, much less a prayer for these girls.

But I am broken.

Men are scattered inside and outside the bars. Men that look like
they could be my father, my grandfather, or even my college buddies.

They are there for one reason: to take home a girl to do with them
whatever they please. 60% of the men who come to Thailand come for a
prostitute. It sickens me even as we pass them by on the street
holding the hands of girls who can’t be more than 16 years old. I am
skeptical of every man I see on the subway, in the restaurant, and
walking by. It is true that it is harder to love them than the girls.

But they are broken, too.

My prayer is continually drowned by the sound of thumping music.
The atmosphere leaves me feeling more like a perverted 50 year old man
coming to watch a show than a missionary. But my calling is clear. I
refuse to believe satans lies that they are simply having fun or that
they enjoy their work. I look up and see a girl whose eyes glisten
with tears under the red light thrust on her body, exposing her for
more than just her skin. She is broken.

I walk past a man, but he is not dressed as a man. Most likely he
went under whole or partial surgery to become a woman and is now
prostituting himself to men and women. At first glance he is even more
beautiful than some of the girls I see there. But inside, he is
incredibly broken.

Continued tomorrow…