Wholly Yours

Today I went to an 8-hour training session called "Hands That Heal" at Peachtree Presbyterian Church. It was the first prerequisite to becoming a volunteer counselor at the Wellspring / Redeemed emergency shelter that will open to the house mother on Monday and to women rescued out of the sex industry next month. These women may have been forced or coerced into prostitution (i.e. rape for profit) by traffickers and pimps, or they may have found themselves seemingly pigeon-holed into selling their bodies in a desperate attempt to alleviate crushing poverty, relational difficulties, childhood abuse, etc. How and why they got into the night clubs, brothels, and streets doesn't matter nearly as much as the fact that these women deserve to recognize their worth as whole beings of a loving Father who will not abandon or abuse. Somehow, God has given me the grace to work with a handful of these women for [at least] the next year. I'll be spending a couple of nights (in 24-hour shifts) every month giving around-the-clock care to women who've been physically, emotionally, spiritually, and sexually abused for nights, weeks, months, or years. My mom asked me if I really thought I was qualified to do this. "Mom, of course I'm not officially qualified. But I'm ready . . . to love these women." 

In one of the role plays, we divided into groups of three. There was one person in the middle whose only responsibility was to listen to the two people on either side of her. The person to the left screamed lies, deceptions, hurtful statements, and negative comments into her ear. The person on the right screamed love, value, worth, and God's truths into her ear. I happened to be the person in the middle. I heard "You're fat! You're ugly! You're a slut! You are not worth saving!" at the same time I heard "God loves you. You are beautiful. There is nothing you can do to make God loves you less. You have been redeemed." I'm not sure what I was expecting going into the exercise, but I came out of it feeling ... dizzy? It was hard to listen. I tried not to focus only on the lies, though that was my temptation because I hear that voice so often, anyways. People can give you compliments and speak truth into your life on a pretty regular basis, but it might only take one or two stinging, hurtful comments to a particularly vulnerable area of your life to pierce your sense of worth and identity. At least, that's what I found to be true. If this was true for me, I am horrified to imagine the implications of this exercise for the women with whom I will be counseling. 

At this I pray for grace, for wisdom, and for courage. For my own self and for every single woman at this emergency shelter, I pray to receive and to be Wholly His.