First Day of Ministry

We had our first day of ministry yesterday in Pretoria, South Africa. We did street evangelism in the afternoon and went out to minister to prostitutes in the evening. Street evangelism has always been daunting to me, but doing it in South Africa is much different than doing it in America. People are more willing to talk to you and don't find it strange for you to go up and talk to them (especially if you're American. We used that to our advantage). Four of us were sitting on a bench and praying for the people that surrounded us. My team member Jacques is experienced in street evangelism, and he encouraged us to listen if God told us to talk to someone and also gave us some crazy methods that only he can pull off. We listened to God's voice and ended up talking to a cleaning lady on her break. We also ended up hanging out with some college students from a fashion school for a while. It was not about sharing the gospel, but about getting to know people and showing them were interested in their lives. It was about listening and trying to treat them the way that Christ would. It was also about being obedient to what God tells us to do and trusting him to follow through, because we can do nothing apart from him.

In the evening, me and a group of girls from my team had the opportunity to minister to prostitutes. We worked with a center that provides a way for women to get off the street and start a new life. They work with these women throughout the week by visiting them and inviting them to the center if they need food or a place to stay. They provide Christian rehabilitation, counseling and discipleship, and job skills training. We walked the streets, talked to the women, gave them small gifts, and asked if they would like us to pray with them if we felt it was appropriate. It was a very difficult night.

You see prostitutes in movies. You have a stereotype in your mind. But when you look into the eyes of a woman standing a street corner waiting for cars to stop by, everything you once believed about prostitutes is shattered. These women were just like me. Just like me. Some were even dressed like me. Some of them were only fifteen. Fifteen. That’s five years younger than me. They know no other life but that of the street. Some of them had children. What really shocked me was that these women have the opportunity to get off the streets, but many do not take the opportunity. It is the only life they know, and they are scared of anything else. It could cut them off from their only friends or family. They also fear their pimps, who often control their lives and will beat and abuse them if they try to find a new life. Many of the women became nervous just because we were talking to them.

There is something so wrong about what I saw last night, and it is hard to put into words. All I can describe is the sick feeling I got in my stomach—that feeling that something is so unjust, so tragic, so opposed to the way God created the world to be. These women were beautiful women with beautiful hearts. They have stories, and they have dreams. They are people just like us. I looked into the eyes of one of the women and said, “You are beautiful. When God looks at you, he sees that you are beautiful.” I pray she believes that. The center we worked with calls them “ladies of the night,” because it is more respectful. These ladies of the night are not what I expected them to be. They are not mature women, but broken little girls, regardless of their age. And they need someone to care about them and love them with the love of God and treat them like normal people despite their occupation. I ask that you pray for these women.

On Monday, we leave for Swaziland, where we will engage in full-time ministry. The trek is beginning. I had no idea that our first day of ministry would hurt so badly, but God is teaching me to entrust people to him. I cannot save them. Only he can. My heart may break with compassion, because that is the way God created me, but I have to be able to move on if I am going to continue to minister to others. I have to trust God to take care of those ladies of the night, because he loves them even more than I do. Denise calls it closing the doors of my heart and knowing that God will continue to send people to help them. It doesn’t mean I stop caring about them or praying for them, but it means that I trust God to be the loving savior that he is. He has shown me how much he loves me. I should trust him to do the same for them.

Pray for God’s protection over my team and that we stand strong in the midst of spiritual warfare. Pray that we remain unified and that we trust God rather than trusting ourselves. Pray that God works in the hearts of the people we will minister to. Lastly, pray that we stay grounded in the truth of who God is and what he has done for us.

South Africa is a beautiful country. I will be sad to leave it. But I am also excited to move from the city and into the towns and villages.

Thank you all for your prayers and thoughts.