In the undergraduate, and now master's of nursing program that I am in, the course material requires the students every few semesters to present a small snippet of who we are; our lifestyles, our passions, and our driving factors that affect our decisions and everyday lives. The title of the assignment is "Who Am I?" and requires a visual or artistic rendering of the answer.
Since the admission to my undergraduate school, my story, although it's telling has taken many forms over the years, remains a simple one:
I am the second oldest of a family with five daughters; no boys. I was raised in a safe, loving, God-centered, and Christ-filled home. Though never rich, the LORD never allowed us to know lack or hunger, and through a multitude of blessings and miracles, his hand was ever evident in the lives of my family. When I was sixteen, my family went to Bangkok, Thailand to teach english at a student center for two months.
It was there that I met her.
Her name was Gift. She was a bright, sunny fourteen year-old girl who was always eager to learn, and listened intently to all that would teach her. Intrigued by her unusual name, I called Gift over after class one day and, through the use of an interpreter, asked her about the origin of her name.
Gift explained that when she was eleven, in a time of financial crisis, her family sold her to be a prostitute, and for three years she knew the hands of many men. One day an American missionary couple came to her and told her about Jesus, the one that could free her from more than her owners, but also of her sin. They asked her if she wanted to leave her situation and come with them, and Gift readily agreed. The missionaries not only bought Gift from her owners, but also were paying for her to learn english in order to obtain a trade where she would never have to sell herself again. Gift struggled to explain in her own broken english that she felt as though God had given her so much "happy" coming to know His grace and the missionaries she lived with, she felt as though her second chance at life was a Gift.
LORD, let me not have been given much in vain.
Since the admission to my undergraduate school, my story, although it's telling has taken many forms over the years, remains a simple one:
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| The Felder Girls 2001 |
It was there that I met her.
Her name was Gift. She was a bright, sunny fourteen year-old girl who was always eager to learn, and listened intently to all that would teach her. Intrigued by her unusual name, I called Gift over after class one day and, through the use of an interpreter, asked her about the origin of her name.
Gift explained that when she was eleven, in a time of financial crisis, her family sold her to be a prostitute, and for three years she knew the hands of many men. One day an American missionary couple came to her and told her about Jesus, the one that could free her from more than her owners, but also of her sin. They asked her if she wanted to leave her situation and come with them, and Gift readily agreed. The missionaries not only bought Gift from her owners, but also were paying for her to learn english in order to obtain a trade where she would never have to sell herself again. Gift struggled to explain in her own broken english that she felt as though God had given her so much "happy" coming to know His grace and the missionaries she lived with, she felt as though her second chance at life was a Gift.
Coming to know Gift, a girl who was two years younger than me, and had faced such abuse and hardship from such a young age grieved me deeply. I learned later that it is increasingly a socially accepted norm for southeast Asian families who have multiple daughters to sell a daughter's virginity, and eventually their entire freedom, in a time of financial crisis or simply need the extra money. As one of five daughters, I realized that in an Asian country, my life would have been much different. Instead of growing up in love and safety; instead of the ability as a young woman to attend college and learn a trade, instead of being able to choose where I will go, whom I will love, when I would stay, my life would have been one of devastation, desolation, abuse, mistreatment, terror, shame, illness, pain, illiteracy, violation, without safety, without protectors, and without a daddy to tuck me in at night or console me when I had a bad dream.
Luke 12:48b tells us that, "To whom much is given, of him much shall be required: and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more."
Who am I?
I am one who has been given much.
I am one who has seen the needs of the downcast, the abused, the down-trodden
and I am one who will never be the same.
I am one who believes in the most High God, who has created each life with purpose and value.
I am one who will die if I have to proclaim the Word of the LORD, to awaken the sleeper, and to set the captives free.
LORD, let me not have been given much in vain.
If you're interested in more material about women and children in the sex slave industry, or want to find out how you can help, check out:
http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/about/slavery/#rs_5.
http://remembernhu.org/resources/fact-sheets/.
http://www.ijm.org/our-work/injustice-today.
http://remembernhu.org/resources/fact-sheets/.
http://www.ijm.org/our-work/injustice-today.
1 comments:
alexxe said...
Thanks for sharing! They've opened a home for girls rescued from the sex trade near my home.