One of the dangers of Thursday night Operation Scarlet Thread is becoming too complacent in the task. It could get easy to walk quickly through the main street in Villa Velasquez and glance around for the prostitutes we already know. We could speak with them again, reminding them of our phone calls. We might offer a cursory invitation for ice cream or coffee. We could speak to “new girls” throwing out our numbers half-heartedly. That is a danger. It could happen. We could become “experts” in the area. Knowing all there is to know about those streets.
Tonight God sent a beautiful reminder of Who is with us. And Who has been on those streets before we got there and Who stays behind after we leave. Tonight the street was a rough place to be. The street lamps were shining, but the uneven, broken sidewalk seemed all the darker. Harsh, seductive words were thrown out as we passed by. We tried smiling at a few of the food vendors. They see us here every week. Several of the girls we called out to ignored us as they passed. Still we walked on. I finally saw a familiar face. It’s funny, but in that atmosphere, I felt like I was greeting an old friend.
As we got reaquainted, I was still aware of those that passed behind us. I couldn’t help glancing around every once in a while. The street was busy tonight. The heat and humidity mixed with exhaust fumes from the road and the smells from meats cooking in old oil. Raucous noises from music, traffic and dirty jokes washed over us until we felt sticky.
As we passed through the street, we walked around the block to start again. This street was quieter. It was darker, but we could see better. There were less street lamps, but more light. We could catch our breath. As we were about to turn the corner to go back through something white caught my eye. “What is that doing here?” I asked.
It was a lily. The tallest, most beautiful lily I had ever seen. Made more beautiful, I am sure, by its surroundings. It was a pure white. More than two feet tall with the perfect white flower bowing toward the ground. I approached it wondering if it might be fake. I wanted to whisper, “What are you doing here?” Instead I bent down and smelled it. “What does it smell like?” Noemi asked from across the street.
“It smells clean…” Then we walked around the block.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, the Lily of the Valley for this reminder of your true presence. Our Light in the darkness. He calls us to continue our work. It is a promise that He is there watching over this street. It is a tall lily with His head bowed low.
Something that I had on the calendar for later in the year is starting tomorrow, and if I were wearing boots I would be shaking in them! I am currently wearing flip flops so the shaking is more pronounced and noticeable (if only to me)!
Our first occupant is entering the safehouse tomorrow. We met her on our second outing into the bar district of Juan Dolio. We actually sat down with her and several others and listened to their stories. She was a little quieter than the others. We gave out our number and walked away reminding ourselves to have money for sodas the next time. (There is so much to learn!)
The next week, Erica and I were on the highway deciding whether to continue walking down the scary dark road to the next bar or whether to turn down and go back to the well lit bar areas; the whole while trying not to overthink or over spiritualize the dark road or lighted road. As we turned, we heard and saw her at the same time. She ran across the busy highway in very high heels (impressive!) to say hello. She dug our card out of her wallet to show us she still had it. I don’t know if that moment meant anything to anyone else, but knowing that she held our number was impactful.
Since she lived in Juan Dolio, Erica made an appointment to visit her the next day. And thus begins the journey. Here we are months later. This woman has accepted Christ into her heart, as has her mother. She is travelling tomorrow to move into the safehouse. Our Scarlet Thread Home.
I and several women from our church began cleaning today. I started in the back room, and visualized the old life and old memories that I was sweeping out of that room. I began praying for her and the ghosts and memories in her own life. As I prayed I swept, pretending with every pass of the broom that I was cleaning out her old ghosts. Of course, once I began that God reminded me of what all had to be swept out of my own life. Pride, ambition, impure motives. As I swept, I confessed.
I turned to the windows and began cleaning them. (oh, yes, I do windows!) I prayed that the Lord would continue to clean my windows, my eyes. So that I may see as He sees. We threw water all over that house. It is starting to look like a home. I am thankful for this our first refuge. As Erica brought her home, women from the church greeted her and together we began praising the Lord in song. We gathered in a circle and prayed. Erica shared the wonderful reminder that if anyone is in Christ she is a new creation. I am a new creation. This lovely new sister in Christ is a new creation. Even the house is a new house. It has been dedicated to God to wrap around these women and hold them safe and loved.
Pray for this woman as we minister to her. The first three months are full of discipleship, love and care from Christian women, and work. We pray that when she leaves this haven she will be able to support and sustain herself with dignity. More importantly we pray that she will be prepared minister to others as we continue to witness and reach out into the streets of San Pedro and Juan Dolio.
