Watching Half the Sky on
slavery of women and children has broken my heart wide open. Oh how God’s heart
must ache for these broken ones. I cannot imagine their pain.
I know God has asked me to write to
serve Him through writing when I asked
Him how I could help end this sex traffiking~slavery of human souls going on. I
just don’t know exactly what He wanted me to write. I am certainly not an
expert. Do I write things for the women and children themselves? Do I write to
inform others? I am not sure still, but I know I have to move these fingers
because my heart can only beat and not hard enough to persuade more than a
faster rhythm. I am so small, and He is so big.
I think this is a statement that
these dear ones also think of their abusers. It is humbling and terrifying to
think that you will be abused, beaten and tortured just because you have female
genitals. People treat animals better. My outrage is exponentially increased when
I see women who are part of the selling of these atrocities. WHY!??? Do they
not have a heart inside for another woman.
Maybe that is who I should write
to, huh? The perpetrators need to be my audience (?). How defiled I feel to
even think of them. Even coming from an abused background in my childhood, I
was relatively safe compared to these children. They were sold at 3 years old
to brothel owners and used/ kept for sex. Tonight I heard one girl say she was
13 when her owners sent her clients; anywhere from 10-30 a day.
Most women WON’T even have sex once
a day, let alone be forcibly raped 10-30 times a day! I hate to process it, but
WE MUST! The shame and betrayal children
feel when abused, I cannot fathom from these dear ones. I am not sure how they
survive, but I saw Somaly Mam’s little ones feel her love, her oneness with
their pain, her HOPE for their sweet lives. Sweet, because it is not their
fault to have been tainted as they were. They are children.
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