I'll never forget how unaffected she seemed by it all.
Maybe it was because I wasn't a mother yet or maybe it was just because I've lived a pretty privileged life in the suburbs of the American South. I was horrified. I was mad. I was...
speechless.
And maybe in that moment that was the only thing we had in common. Our voices had been stolen by the thief that is sin in a broken and busted world.
Her daughter, only nine years old, had been used and abused in her own home.
The place that she thought she was safe became a place where should would never feel safe again. And on a continent that has known the use and abuse of power and rape as an act of war there is no assurance that justice will be served.
In the space of that silence, between my anger and her resignation to what had happened, we both knew that fact.
I thought long and hard about how this mother standing in front of me probably had suffered the same at some point. She was a member of the generation that grew up through a very uncivil war. A war in which women suffered greatly at the hands of horrendous violence.
There are places dotting this globe and even in our own American cities where the sexual exploitation and bonded servitude of men, women and children is common. There are places where people believe that this is how life is and should be and that there is no way out because all too often there is no way out. No justice to be found.
We can live our lives without acknowledging the scary facts or we can open our eyes and find our voices and in so doing find the voice of millions who have been silenced.
I once heard a woman recount a story of staying in an upscale hotel in a major city in America. She retold her experience with a detectable shake in her voice. She cautiously observed a young man and woman and it didn't settle well in her soul.
The man was constantly on his cell phone and shifty eyed. The girl, a tiny slip of a thing, seemed nervous and shy. She searched the girl's face for a sign that she was in trouble, but when noticed the man moved close to the girl and whispered something that made her gaze purposefully at the floor.
That was the end of it, but year later she hasn't been able to shake the feeling that she should have done something. That she should have called someone. But who?
It can feel helpless. We hear the statistics:
- Each year, nearly 2 million children are exploited in the global commercial sex trade. (UNICEF)
- 27 million men, women and children are held as slaves. (Kevin Bales, Disposable People)
- 1 in 5 women is a victim of rape or attempted rape in her lifetime. (U. N. Development Fund for Women)
I've been wearing dresses for two weeks straight and it can all seem insignificant.
{A few of my dress selections-
view all #Dressember pics on my instagram account}
What do my December fashion choices have to do with a mother's daughter's stolen innocence or a young woman suspiciously loitering around a hotel?
I'll tell you what.
I believe in beauty. I believe that God created women with unique beauty and our femininity is a wonderful gift.
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For millions of women their femininity and the very fact that they are women acts as a curse. They are seen as expendable and thousands each year slip into the sex trade industry.
No matter what this broken world says. Women have value. Our unique beauty as women is a treasure to be valued and celebrated. I'm celebrating this month for the women that can't.
The International Justice Mission (IJM) is addressing issues of injustice the world over. They are on the ground working with those who have suffered horribly as modern slaves. They are among the most oppressed, widows, orphans, children, and they are making a true difference in lives.
What we do with our days is what we do with our lives.
If for one month I can wear a dress and raise awareness of the issue for my Liberian sister whose daughter will live with the scars her life long and the woman whose story I've only heard recounted by a sister who wishes she could have done more than I am on my way to days well used and a life well lived.
I'm wearing dresses to raise awareness and to also raise just a wee bit of money for
IJM.
$50. That's it. That is just over $1 a day for the month of December.
Who among my readers will make that happen?
I want to give my sweet mama friend a voice. I want her to know that yes, this happened to her daughter, but there is a woman a world away that is going to cling to grace and do her best to see that it doesn't happen to her granddaughter.
It might be little, but it is my little to give. I found my voice. It's time to give her one too.
There are more organizations and ways that you can educate yourself and become involved in addressing the issue of sexual exploitation and the global industry that is the human slave trade.
Learn, Shop, Support
International Justice Mission (Shop their Holiday catalog!)
The Exodus Road
Freeset Global
Free the Girls
If you are ever suspicious a situation might be an issue of human trafficking you can call or text BeFree to the
National Human Trafficking Hotline at 1-888-373-7888
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