A War For Their Hearts

This week has been a strange week for my brain. It’s been a little overwhelmed with thoughts about Syria and trying to make sense about what’s happening over there, reading FB posts about Miley Cyrus, and then sitting in a brand new strip club that had both my eyes and mind in overdrive. The first thing I thought as I sat in a super comfy chair with the green laser lights blinding me was, “Is that twerking?”

I might be the only 31 year-old puzzled by the term ‘twerking’ but here is what I now know today on twerking and all that comes with it:

1. Twerking was coined nearly 20 years ago in 1993 by DJ Jubilee. Miley Cryus is a little behind the curb. The only thing different 20 years ago? There were on giant teddy bears involved.

2. Stripping did not evolve out of modern society. Strip teases and erotic dancing can be found clear back to ancient Babylonia. It is mentioned by Thomas Otway in 1651 in the comedy “The Soldier’s Fortune” and in 1707 in the German translation of the French La Guerre D’Espange. Even the bible eludes to erotic dancing when Salome is mentioned to dance for King Herod (only later said to have removed the seven veils by Oscar Wilde, but let’s get real...she totally did). All that to say, even DJ Jubilee was likely behind the curb. Girls been twerking for centuries!

3. Prostitution ( just a tiny step away from erotic dancing) is considered the world’s oldest profession.

4. Stripping found America in 1896.

5. Burlesque became popular in 1925.

6. Strippers went topless in ‘go-go dancing’ in the 1960’s.

7. In 1969, full nudity dancing became popular.

8. Lap dancing began trending in 1980.

9. Everyone needs to stop focusing on Miley Cyrus and what she did, and wake up. This is nothing new. If you want to get angry about it, you need to find the root of the problem. And the root of the problem...is darkness.

10. Seriously, folks. (mostly, I just wanted ten points)


The club I was in last night, had centuries worth of education to know all the right moves. These ladies were the professionals of erotic dancing. I seriously sat there and wondered if they all went to the same strip school where they were taught by the world’s greatest seducer artist (I know, not a real occupation). These girls were incredibly tall, slender, had their curves where curves were supposed to be, long, silky hair, and...well...if they lost their job at the club, I think the Cirque dela would gladly take them.

And me being five months pregnant, I sat there and thought I was pretty unattractive. I mean....goodness sakes!

I know you might be thinking that this isn’t exactly the point of strip club outreach, but I think it actually is part of the point. You see, up until now, I’ve been in clubs that are dives and the girls aren’t very attractive. These clubs are full of drugs and drunk girls, girls that are being pimped out and taken advantage of. But in this club, there was an air of pride. These girls knew what they were doing. It was almost like an art for them. They knew how to cast their eyes, how to tilt their chin, how to bend and move.

Sitting there, going deaf under the power of the speakers, I felt pretty insecure when a dancer pulled up a chair to our table and sat down to talk. She was 19...shouldn’t have even been allowed to drink. Thankfully, Bekah was able to carry a bit of a conversation with her, as the rest of us could not hear over the blasting music. She said she really enjoyed to work at the club, that it was easy, good money. When Bekah asked how she ended up there, she said her brother’s friend told her she should try it out.

These dancers may be different than the dives, but I can almost promise that somewhere, each of them has brokenness. After all, we all do. Maybe their fathers were not in the picture or did not show them enough attention, making sure their daughters knew they were beautiful, wanted and loved? Every girl wants to know she is pretty, that she has value, that she can be the center of a man’s attention. That’s how God somewhat made women, right? Even if these girls have no ‘hurt’ to speak of on the surface, there is one truth: Satan has been after the heart of women from the very beginning.

 “The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”
 ~ Genesis 2:18 (NIV)

“The man said,
“This is now bone of my bones
    and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called ‘woman,’
    for she was taken out of man.”
 That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.  Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.” ~Genesis 2: 23-25 (NIV)

Woman was originally intended to please man, to ease his loneliness, to help him, to love him, and very importantly, to be loved and cherished in return. They were partners. There was respect. After all, until Adam received the gift of Eve, he was incomplete and not fully happy. I imagine The Lord thought out the design of woman, knowing what would please Adam; she would be soft to the touch, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful in all ways. Woman was special. Unique. Valued. Gifted. Irreplaceable. Needed.

And then darkness walked in...

“When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.” ~Genesis 3:6-7 (NIV)

So the Lord God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this,
“Cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals! You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life. And I will put enmity between you and the woman,
    and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.” ~Genesis 3: 14-15 (NIV)

And that part: I will put enmity between you and the woman, is what stands out to me. Webster Dictionary defines enmity as mutual hatred or ill will. That’s powerful! God doesn’t say this about the serpent and Adam, does he?

When I was little, I thought this meant that women were predestined to be afraid of snakes forever, and that they would stomp their heads with the heels of their boots (I often picture my Great Grandma, Ida, in her knee high panty hose and black work shoes doing this...and it makes me laugh). But I don’t see this verse that way anymore. I believe that women have always been a target for Satan. And why not? She made Adam complete. She was God’s treasured gift to mankind. Why wouldn’t the enemy spend all of history, present, and future to warp and destroy what she was meant to be?

Miley Cyrus stood on a national stage and simulated sexual acts for a man. The audience on TV cheered. The other musical artists looked on with disgust (as if they’ve never done the same exact thing). We tweeted and posted our disdain and noted how we feel sorry for Miley. But we watched. We failed to see where the enemy was winning.

If you think what Miley Cryus did was shocking, you don’t know what I see on Wednesday nights. Every single night, all across the world, women are in bars and clubs, projected on movie screens, printed in the pages of magazines...all shedding their clothes to display what God meant to be truly beautiful. He never intended for them to be an object of lust, performing sex acts for anyone to see. “It’s easy money,” in the words of my new friend. “He said I should give it a try.” And I bet she feels a measure of beauty in it. I really do. There’s faux approval when the money pays the bills. She’s special. She’s coveted. She is prized. So say the men in the club. So says the enemy.

Want to change things?

1. Stop tuning into the VMAs if you don’t want to see something dirty. After all folks, it happens   every single year. You’re partly to blame.

2. Make every single little girl in your life feel that she is positively cherished, beautiful, and worthy of unconditional love. Give her value in her identity of who she is, not what she can do for anyone else.

3. Mothers, stop obsessing over your looks and weight. One day, your daughter might grow up to be insecure in her own looks. Maybe a brother’s friend will tell her she’s pretty enough to dance with the A-lister dancers and she will give it a try, feeling gorgeous. I once had a friend feed me the same line and felt pretty because of it (thankfully, I did not listen to his career advice!). So show your daughter you see value in your appearance.

4. Fathers, set an example for your sons. They watch everything you do. Open the car door for the women in your wife. Speak to them with respect. Touch them gently with love. Do not let your eyes linger over women passing by, showing your son that women are here to please men’s eyes.

We may not be able to change history (yet) but we can start by changing the way the little boys and girls in our lives think and feel about themselves and each other. We can be better men and women for them. We can stop letting music, TV shows, and movies stream into our homes that make our gender roles less than what God intended. We can do better. We can be better. We can start raising outstanding young men and women.

Right?

So, I'll leave you with this rather bizarre old photo of Miley that now makes little sense. What happened? There's a war on for the heart's of women. That is what's happening.

~Gia

Where He Has Called Us, He Will Lead Us

Last night was my first time ever going into a strip club. My entire life, I never thought I would even pull into the parking lot of such a "vile" place, let alone go in and pay to sit in a place filled with such darkness. I have to admit I was nervous but I tried not to let it show.

Ever since my Freshman year in college my heart has been broken for girls in this industry. When I was made aware of the slavery and trafficking that takes place all over the world, my heart literally broke. I have always felt drawn to the girls but have had no outlets to be able to minister to them; this type of work is not exactly something you just jump into with no preparation.

My sophomore year of college I was majoring in Public Leadership and Service and preparing for an internship at a safe house for trafficking victims in North Carolina. I thought that these places were preparing me to be in ministry and help these girls, but God had other plans. I didn't graduate from that college and I didn't fulfill the internship.

Since that time, I have been distraught, wondering how in the world I was going to be able to help the people that my heart was broken for years earlier, then Light in Darkness came onto my radar and I got EXCITED!

I knew that I was finally in a place where God could use me in his work. No, I'm not in the ministry career I pictured 3 years ago, and no it isn't a full time thing. But I take much comfort in knowing that God has me right where he wants me; in ministry with the ladies of Waterline Church and our prayer partners.

Now, back to last night.

Gia and I went into the club. I was nervous, excited and scared all at the same time. While I was confident that we would be safe, you never know what might happen. We entered the club and was greeted by an old man, E, and that struck me as funny (which helped calm me a little). He was a very nice man, who took our money and welcomed us into the club. I was glad that there wasn't a "big scary man" to greet us at the door.

We went in, found a seat quickly and ordered some bottled water. My immediate impression was that the club was darker and smaller than I had imagined. There was a girl dancing onstage at the time with little to no clothing. She was very apathetic and seemingly lethargic as she was on the stage. There were various people around, one man was very intoxicated, but the rest seemed level headed and simply watched. At this point, it was very tame and honestly, kind of boring (admittedly, I was happy for this).

As the time passed, people shuffled in and out, dancers came on and off the stage and the club in general *seemed* uneventful. There were various dancers *hanging out* with some of the men, but nothing was happening illegal that I observed.

Gia and I chatted, I tried to look occupied maybe even like I was supposed to be there, even though I am pretty sure we stuck out quite a bit with our bottled water and inability to look at the girls for more than a few seconds. In those moments I was thankful for Gia, as our conversation flowed easily. We observed the people, who they were in relation to the club, the dancers, and those who came to be entertained.

Just after 9, a large group of foreign men entered the club. Up until this point, all the girls had been lethargic and uninterested; tired. When this group came though, Gia and I both had our "alarms" go off (that bad feeling in the pit of your stomach when you know something isn't right) and realized quickly that the atmosphere of the club changed as soon as they came in.

The girls began dancing much more provocatively in an effort to earn tips I suppose. The men were foreign and slightly rowdy, but nothing that seemed out of context. They ordered drinks and sat really close to the stage. Though tempted to leave quickly, Gia and I stuck around for about 10-15mins after they came in. We caught them staring our direction and got uncomfortable quickly. We prayed hard for those last few minutes and throughout that time felt the need to protect the dancers; almost like there was unrealized danger coming from these men. Only God knows what happened after we left, but my prayers are with the dancers today.

Throughout the course of the night, we got to talk to a dancer, C. She came up to our table just after her dance and sat beside Gia. She asked if we were "evaluating" the girls and told us about the types of visitors, frequency, shift work and that the pay was decent. I think she knew we weren't there for a show and was thinking we may be looking for a job. She sat with us and chatted for 3-5 mins and moved on. I look forward to seeing C again, I think there is definitely relationship potential there. I'm glad she told us her name so that we can say hello next week.

Upon walking out of the club, I was almost moved to tears by the prayer team in the car, just seeing them and knowing their hearts and prayers were with Gia and I as well as the girls is a feeling that can't really be explained other than to say (on my part) humility and extreme gratefulness. If the girls are receptive to our cause, I think they will feel something similar when they see us in their clubs; knowing we are there to bring good.

Overall, I had a successful first time out. I know that our team last night was exactly who God wanted to be there. I am glad that I was the only one who could go in, I am glad that I didn't have the chance to be a Moses (the ladies that offer prayer support) when I KNOW that God wanted me in those clubs as a Joshua (the ladies that go in).

The crazy part is, I almost didn't go...

I have a very hectic and tiring schedule and I could find 100 reasons why I couldn't be there. I had missed the last two weeks due to legitimate reasoning, but this week, the excuse I would have given was much less important.

I had to make a very conscious and determined decision to go where God was leading me. Like I said, I know that I could have found 100 reasons why I "couldn't " go. But you know what? It's not about me. IT IS NOT ABOUT ME!

I could worry all day about how I don't "fit in" at those places, how the girls may not want to talk to us, or how I might get uncomfortable, but IT IS NOT ABOUT ME!

It isn't about where I fit, God takes care of that...it is about where I can fill.

How God can use me to fill a dark place with LIGHT. How God can use me to fill a need in the life of a girl. How God can use me to fill a girl with the joy I know in Jesus. How I can fill a seat; one less seat taken by someone who wants to exploit them How God can use me to fill the clubs with good and pure prayers How God uses our team to help facilitate his plan for these girls How we will fill their thoughts and brighten their days

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME!

This is about how God is using our team of ladies to fill these clubs and these girls with his light.
When I thought about excuses as to why these girls didn't need me to help fill them with Jesus, I couldn't think of ONE.

Because, while I was home with my husband, cuddled up in my bed I couldn't help but think how safe I was, how good I had it, how BLESSED I am. But those girls....those girls don't have that. They have men coming at them constantly wanting more and these girls give and give and give out of the most precious parts of themselves and they have no one pouring into THEM, keeping THEM safe, protecting THEM and making sure they have what they NEED.
That's us people.

Whether through prayer or presence in the clubs themselves, you and I are the ones stepping up to the plate and introducing Jesus to these places.

It was mentioned in our prayer time that there are some individuals using Philippians 4:8 to be able to avoid talking about the subject of strip clubs. Here is what it says,

Philippians 4:8 New International Version (NIV) 8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

In regards to this, I want to remind these people that the light we are bringing into the clubs encompasses all of these things.

We are bringing truth, nobility, good, purity, loveliness and admirability into these clubs. We are giving these girls a chance to live this verse when they currently do not have that opportunity.
In addition, if your read the verses before verse 8:

4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in EVERY situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

We are told not to be anxious about anything, and that through prayer and petition, in EVERY situation, the peace of God will transcend our understanding and will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

To me, this is even more confirmation that God is protecting us. Where he has called us, he will lead us. When we pray for these girls God hears us. When we go into the clubs, he protects us. How much better does it get than being where God is?

Grace and Peace,
Bekah

Coffee and War Stories at The Stripper Bars

I'm buzzed on some amazing coffee and second hand smoke. Who knew strip clubs serve coffee?! Let alone a decent cup, right?! But here I am, hungry (because there was no way I was ordering food from there), incredibly stinky and with a tiny headache in my temple. Should I mention the ear-to-ear smile I came home with? Because it is there...along with a happy heart doing a wild dance in my chest, overwhelmed as it is with love and joy.

Roger said that I needed to be careful, that the experience might go much differently than I was hoping. He was totally right. Nothing went how I imagined it might, but what was in my imagination was a nightmare! What actually happened was all God.

The ladies met at a church to spend about an hour on praise reports, outreach updates, where needs were being met and then to cover us all in prayer. After that, we broke up into teams and went to two different clubs. Some of us (myself included) went inside while others stayed behind in their cars and prayed the entire time we were inside.

There are specific rules when we are in the club. We are never allowed to be out of each others sight. We never go to the bathroom alone (or go at all in there) and we do not leave to a private area to talk to any of the girls, most especially outside. With this in mind, I stayed with my other ladies the entire time.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous walking up to the front doors. My mother-in-law pulled the front of my sweater up because I left my coat and scarf in the car and was now a little more exposed (next time...TURTLENECKS!). When we got inside, there was a table right by the door where a couple of men were sitting, chatting, and collecting cover charges. My MIL already knew them and they were excited to see her. She introduced me, I shook their hands while slipping my cover to them. She had us sit down with her and we all just started talking like it was completely normal to have us ladies in the strip club.

My chair was positioned so my back faced the stage...thank The Lord. There was an old man sitting there and he was so very kind and a gentleman. He asked if we needed something to drink and recommended the coffee. I was so impressed that they had coffee that I immediately said I would love a cup.

The men talked to us about their families, about Christmas, their grandchildren, and told a few jokes (some worth laughing at and some not). So far, this is not what I had prepared my brain for. There was some sort of conversation going on about finances and the economy and how the old man beside me once knew what it was like to scrape by to make ends meet. Suddenly, I am unfurling a story about the first few months of my marriage when Roger was a Private First Class in the Marines and I was only just turning 18. I told him how we had no money whatsoever and were too proud to tell our family how bad it had gotten. I shared with him how one night I said I was hungry, knowing full well that there was no food in the house. That didn't matter because Roger told me he would get me something to eat. He was in the kitchen forever, making all kinds of noise, and when he came back, he had a warm meal on a plate just for me.

My new old buddy was intrigued. He said, "Well, wasn't that something? That's a good man!" To which I smiled broadly and asked, "But do you want to know what it was?" He lifted his brows and I answered, "It was an MRE!" He burst out laughing claiming how terrible those things were. This is how he started opening up about being a Vietnam vet. We talked about the candy in MRE and how they no longer put cigarettes in them. Then we started talking about war...

*I just have to pause and say: GOD BLOWS MY MIND!!!*

I spent the whole night swapping war stories with my new buddy. He was amazing! He even rolled up his shirt sleeve to show me where he had been shot. I would ask him a question to which he would honestly give an answer...and then he would ask me a question. I told him about my experience with war, as different as they might have been from his, and he told me his experiences. He was drafted at 19 and a radio operator in the field. It's amazing he is even still alive. He told me what he did when he got home...the good and the bad. I told him about what we did when we moved home after Roger was out. I even told him the story of how my best Marine buddy said he would give me $20 if I would put a pinch of snuff in my lip. He nearly fell out of his chair laughing at the picture I painted of me turning a zillion shades of green and falling flat on my butt, swallowing the snuff and never getting the $20. He told me about his high school sweetheart and how she was gone when he came home from Vietnam and how he saw her for the first time since then this past Christmas. He told me, "And boy! She was just as beautiful as the last time I saw her!"

Through the entire night, I didn't really get to talk to any of the girls. Whenever one of them past the table, I would lift my eyes, look straight in her eyes, and smile. But now that I am home and have been informed that lesbians also frequent the clubs, I am regretting the decision to have done that. There was one girl who sat down across from me for a few moments. I introduced myself and she smiled and said, "Gia? We have a girl named Gia that works here." I gushed and responded, "Really? I'd love to meet her. I've never met another Gia!"

Then awkward silence filled the air. The girl looked down at her phone and I kinda knew she didn't have a clue as to what to think of me. Suddenly, very awkward myself, I sighed and said, "Yeah...it's not my real name, though." Her eyes shot up and she said with a wry smile, "Yeah? It's not her real name, either."

**Laugh at me all you want!!!! Because I felt DUMB!**

Nothing I saw shocked me, but I am sure one day something will (besides that, everything was happening behind my back). I got the impression that the gentleman we sat with weren't even there to 'see' the girls...but mainly to sit with a war buddy, sipping their alcohol free drinks, smoking, collecting the covers and making sure the girls (which I got the impression they felt fatherly towards) were okay.

At the end of the night, my old buddy said, "I think I missed my calling in life." We talked about how people just want to feel special and know that someone cares about them. We talked about how they just want to know someone loves them and that they are not alone. He said, "That's what these girls want. Lots of them have been abused...and they just need someone."

I don't know what God is doing or how He will use me, but I can feel His breath in my lungs and His words on my lips. I know He wants me there. In my heart, I know that my old buddy will not forget the girl who swapped war stories (of all things) over coffee with terrible dance music blasting behind us. The owner will trust that I just want to be a friend when I come back. He will even let me in the dressing room to paint the girl's nails should they desire it. The old guards at the door, my buddies, know they can tell me which girls need what and over what I can be praying about. It isn't the most conventional way to minister to the broken hearted in the world...

But...

I'm not conventional.

The most important thing I have learned is that evangelizing means friendship. You usually cannot simply start talking about Jesus because people are hurting and have built mighty fine walls around their hearts. You have to be willing to sit beside them, talk and listen, laugh and sow some truth about themselves little by little (it takes a great deal of patience). I looked my old buddy in the eyes and said, "You have a good heart. I can see that." He held my gaze with misty eyes...and I know what he heard was God's voice.

Unconditional love. That's what I can give.

~Gia