About 15 years ago I joined a certain group because everyone else was doing it and it seemed like the thing to do in order to be a better Christian, which of course I wanted very much.
The group followed a format that I found out later was typical, but it was all new to me at that time: We listened together to the respected speaker for the first hour, and then split up into small groups for the second hour.
It may feel like voyeurism, reading about it, if you don’t know any of these people.
But as I’ve been saying for some time now, I can be pretty doggone certain that you do know or at least interact with a survivor of sex trafficking, even if you don’t think you do. Because they are all around you.
My primary work is with those who have been sex trafficked in the Christian world. And believe me, there are parallels.
One person or small group of people is/are the traffickers. They may be relatively obscure, as Epstein was.
Others, the wealthy and elites (in my experience, it’s primarily been the wealthy and elites in the Christian world) are the buyers who take advantage of the trafficker’s “services.” (Flying in to the trafficking location is not a problem for the Christian elite.)
It’s supposed to be encouraging when we hear that God the Father sees His children through the filter of His Son Jesus Christ. I’ve seen Christians almost come to tears when they talk about how God the Father is wearing “blood-colored glasses” to look at us, seeing the righteousness of His Son instead of our sinfulness.
I’ve spoken in a number of Christian school chapels over the years. As a professional storyteller I’d speak in chapel with a true story from one of my missionary books, and then as the “visiting author” I’d go around to the classrooms and answer questions.
One of the questions I’d often get was this: “If your life were written as a story, what would you want it to say?”
(A student would ask it, but I always had a sneaking suspicion that it was a teacher who came up with the question.)
Years ago when we were visiting a large and well-endowed fundamentalist church here in Greenville, South Carolina, the Sunday school teacher went on a bit of a tirade about how wrong it was to come to church to “get.”
Ho! Every one that thirsts! Come to the waters . . . Drink!
New Year’s Resolution #2,019: Drink more water.
Have you ever noticed that you can systematically drink less and less water, way less than your body needs, without feeling thirsty? Counterintuitive, I know. But that thirst mechanism behind your throat sort of atrophies or something. Continue reading “Thirsty yet?”
Six years ago when I first began to learn about extreme abuse, when I was first introduced to dissociative identity disorder as something more than a movie plot, when I began to dip my toe into a world of darkness beyond what I had previously ever comprehended, I eventually (after months) asked the Lord—complained to the Lord, actually—“Lord, why is it you want me to learn about this awful stuff? I don’t know any of these people!”