Prayer for KolKata, India

"Night and day my soul cries
my tears are my food
No one hears my cry

I feel nothing but pain
my dreams are no longer
my hope is no where, nothing

All my days I have worked
put my body and soul on the line
for a few rupees

I feel barely worth the rupees I earn
I am nothing, I have no escape
my heart is hard, the bitter gift of being numb

If I knew what a father was
what a father could be
maybe I could call His name
maybe I could feel His love"


The cry of a woman in the sex-trade. Holy Spirit, send your love. We need a judge. Jesus, we need you to come.

Who will weep with me?

The Father is asking His believers, "Who will go to the place of weeping? Who will hear the cries of the broken hearted and cry out for them?"

I just wanted to share not only the goodness of God with you all, but what He is doing through our ExodusCry prayer group here in Arkansas. ExodusCry first started with me walking towards an information table at a conference and not even really knowing why I was... I was given more information on the new ministry and started to commit time weekly to go on the behalf of the women and children in the sex trade. And with out doing really anything, (because when its God's thing it works like that) this quiet prayer time has went from just me on my bed praying to God, to ten people tonight singing, and weeping, and praying, and declaring God's power. He is raising up an army of believers. We are the army that choose to press into the dark, to the lonely, to the desperate, and call out to a higher power.

At the beginning of our prayer tonight God started moving in my heart and letting me experience some of the pain of what it means to be a woman in the sex trade. I started to feel the burden of what it really means to be taken advantage of... and we started to pray and sing out in a group to God. Then, one of the great prayer warriors in the group got on her face and started sobbing. This continued for minutes upon minutes, not ending. In my heart I was moved, but did want it to end. But it didn't end. And then I too said yes to go with God to the place of weeping. He asked me if I was sure I wanted to go there, and I said yes. In His strength, I could see the things that He sees every day. I could hear the prayers that He is always hearing.

And then there was a women. Probably only a few years older than me, and she had sores all over the lower half of her body. I thought maybe it was an STD or an infection that had gone untreated.

Then I saw the young girl, who's persecutor was old enough to be her father. Her mouth was covered. She was silenced.

I saw the middle aged woman, who had longed her whole life to be a mother. But watched herself have abortion after abortion after abortion. Baby after baby after baby that she would have kept... was ripped away. Because of her job. Her job to service whoever whenever.

Then I saw the toddler... being raised in the brothel.

Then I saw the bruises.

Then I saw that they aren't just physically hurt. Or emotionally hurt. Or spiritually hurt.

They are in a place of utter destruction. And its because of us.

We have left God, He has never left us. He says again and again... "I will never leave my people"

And we cry from this place. We beg God to send His righteous mercy and judgement down. We as the bride cry from this place... Open the scroll Jesus! Come back. Come and get your bride. We are aching for your return. We love you. We need you. Abba, look at the mess we have made, and most of us either won't admit it, or even go into the place of complete brokenness. We don't like the suffering. But in the suffering is where the Groom meets His bride. In the desperate place comes the intimacy. Our hands drip with myrrh as we share in the sufferings of Christ. If we don't share in His suffering, we will never share in His comfort.

The very God of this Universe became man. So He, could be stripped of all pride, all dignity, all comforts. The very God died naked and bruised and spit on. He died while others walked by. He died while others laughed. He became shame. He became our sins.

He is asking, "Who will weep with me?"

We Need to Have Our Hearts Broken.

I'm not trying to be the crazy extremist. But then again, maybe I should be. During my prayer time this week for Svay Pak, Cambodia I started thinking about the girls in this village. A village who's whole economy is resting on how often they can sell themselves. Its not uncommon for these girls to have to service up to 40 men a day.

When we hear these things, we might be shocked, maybe sad, maybe moved to say a prayer. But are our hearts really broken?? Why when we see a picture of another sad little girl across the ocean, do we feel bad but not broken? We might feel guilty, but is her hardened heart so devastating to us, that it causes us to break? To fall at the feet of Christ and beg for His intervention. For Him to send justice to the oppressed.

I started thinking, maybe we'd get the point if it really concerned us. Maybe that's the whole point. In my human nature and in my selfishness, I can not be broken unless it directly involves myself.

I work at The Boys and Girls Club here in Siloam Springs, AR. Lets say that for now, this is no longer a boys and girls club. Now, this club is a brothel. The young girls ranging from 5-18 now live at the club, or brothel. And, all of Siloam's economy is ran by men visiting this brothel. These girls, not mattering their age or anything about their worth, if and when chosen must do whatever the men of our town say. And the parents? The parents are putting their children there. They need the money. And our police? The police visit these girls too. They are in it. It helps our economy. It helps their sexual desire. Everyone is paid. Everyone is happy. Oh, and pedophiles from all over the world now travel to visit our small town. To have their wildest fantasies fulfilled.

This is what is happening in Cambodia. This is the exact story.

Why is the news so much harder to hear when it is in America? Are we broken now? Wouldn't we be trying to get those girls out? Wouldn't we be praying for their hearts and their awful situation?

I pray that God would break my heart. That He would break all of our hearts.

That we would see the severity of the situation.

Exodus Cry:The Mission Briefing from Exodus Cry on Vimeo.

Svay Pak, Cambodia

If a drop of your love,

could fall upon Cambodia.

If a drop of your mercy,

could make the flowers once again grow.

If a drop of your redemption,

could break the hardened hearts.

The hearts of each brown eyed girl,

The hearts terrorized by prostitution.

If a drop of your love, 

could fall upon Cambodia.

and make the flowers grow.

and shine beauty in darkness.

To bring beauty from ashes.

Beauty seen by the creator.

Beauty in love instead of lust.

If a drop of your love,

could fall upon Cambodia.

and break the hardened hearts.

and soften to bring redemption.