Hate, Anger, and Helplessness…
would be my three predominant thoughts if my little nephew was taken from my family and put into the bondages of the sex trafficking world. A criminal prostitution enterprise that is prevalent throughout the world, holding 25 million people as slaves and earning $32 billion per year. Here in Atlanta we’re among one of the hubs. If my nephew were to be abducted, I can accurately envision how my life would ensue afterwards:
The world around me would feel as if it were in flames. Not a day would pass where I had not spent time searching for him. I would go from hotel to hotel and constantly search Craigslist for explicit listings as if I were a potential customer myself – hoping to find something that could potentially lead to my nephew. It would be disheartening to see how most people are unaware of what is going on right under their noses. On our streets. In our society.
My time spent with family and friends would gradually diminish. My family would remind me too much of my nephew so I would avoid them altogether. My friends would irritate me, as their continual attempts of consolation would fail to physically help bring my nephew back any sooner. My friends would only slow me down from my mission of finding him.
My mornings would be spent in silence in order to effectively plan where I’d go searching during my lunch break at work. There would be no more lunch with co-workers or going to the gym after work. Every single second of my day would have a predetermined purpose. My work productivity would decline. Matter of fact, I’d eventually have disdain for my male co-workers. Statistically, the most sex trafficking customers are middle and upper class males. The average victim receives 40-50 customers a night. I would reason, or what we call to be reason in this world, that statistically anyone around me could be my nephew’s customer.
There will be glimpses of hope though: some nights I will dream of him being saved and returning to our family. Yet, to the contrary, the majority of my nightly dreams would be of men on top of him. Electrocuting and cutting him whenever he disobeyed. Forcing him to perform hard labor during the day. I would wake up in sweat and tears many nights. Other nights I’d be too afraid to shut my eyes for the fear of what would be envisioned next. Nightmares would become a kind of ritual.
During the day I’d again dream of him returning. Then I would realize that could welcome other heaps of trouble. My loving nephew who loves playing the drums, wishes The Ninja Turtles were a real, and thought the movie Inside Out was simply “ok” at best…. would never be mentally nor emotionally the same kid again. His youthful vitality and zeal will be shattered by the evils of this world. He may likely have depression, guilt, shame, HIV/AIDS, sleeping disorders, PTSD, etc.
If my nephew were taken my spiritual faith could go either direction. Sure I may push in closer to God, rely fully in Him and sing hymns all day. However, if I’m honest, that would be extremely difficult. Most of my time I would likely go the opposite way (I am reminded of a dear friend who wrote a blog post a few years back of her mom being literally days away from dying of cancer. She was emotionally broken but her faith and thankfulness in God was somehow strong. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, I want that strength, but I would be going completely insane if I were in her shoes.”) It would be very tough to focus on the goodness of God. At the same time, my prayer life would sky-rocket because I would understand how limited I am and the miraculous power God has in saving my nephew.
If I were given the chance to be face to face with my nephews capturers, would I kill them? I honestly do not know. But physical harm and unforgiveness would be on my mind for sure. That is what makes Jesus dying on the cross so much more crazy. If Jesus is real – if Jesus did die on the cross – and He is real and, yes, he did die and resurrect… this means that God watched as we beat His son senseless, cut him bloodied, and massacred his body continually as if He were a piece of trash. Those tears and blood were for us because we needed Jesus to die for the forgiveness of our sins. He”undeservingly” did so because He loves us; especially the children. Jesus also loves the child molesters and desperately wants them to truly follow Him as well. That is grace.
That type of love is supernatural and beyond my comprehension. I guess that is why He is God and I’m just an uncle. That said, if you do not think there are millions among millions of people being sexually abused everyday and sold then you are tremendously mistaken. What are we going to do about this monumental problem?
Hey, everything is alright though. My nephew is fine. Haha, forget about the other 25 million women, children, and men involved in human trafficking. I will sleep well tonight. So will you, right?
Again, seriously, what are we going to do about this?