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.