Tonight I heard the news that a good friend’s younger sister has gone missing.
Even just typing the words makes me feel physically sick. While they have no factual reason to suspect trafficking, we’ve all heard the facts, read the stories. There’s a part of you that can’t help but wonder…what if?
When It Hits Close to Home
Tonight I heard the news that a good friend’s younger sister has gone missing.
Even just typing the words makes me feel physically sick. While they have no factual reason to suspect trafficking, we’ve all heard the facts, read the stories. There’s a part of you that can’t help but wonder…what if?
What if evil reached out and touched this beautiful young woman tonight?
What if the family praying desperately for her to be found has to hear the hardest news of all?
What if life as she knows it is shattered…
It’s the kind of thing that slams you down on your knees to pray.
Because the thing is, this hits too close to home. I can read the articles about someone else’s daughter, and feel sadness–anger even. I can hear the statistics and feel my stomach churn, ready for action.
But I can also walk away, let it fade away, and forget.
Tonight I have been reminded of how close to home this really is for all of us. Sometimes we can saunter through the city on a sunny day and forget the darkness that’s lurking beneath. There are many positive aspects of our city, and wonderful people that live here. However, we cannot allow that to lull us into complacency.
Think for a moment about your sister, daughter, or best friend. What if you woke up tomorrow to find that they had gone missing? What if you spent the next twenty-four hours searching, waiting…imagining all sorts of possibilities. How fervently and frequently would you pray?
We need to be praying for these women like that.
Pray for the trafficked women of your city like they’re your own daughter–because they’re somebody’s daughter.
Pray for the vulnerable and exploited of your city like they’re your best friend–because they’re somebody’s.
Pray for those who are looking for love and value in all the wrong places like they’re your baby sister–because chances are, they’re somebody’s sister too.
The God of the Universe, who is close to the broken-hearted and those crushed in spirit, gathers up their tears and knows the very number of hairs on their heads. We may not even know their names, but He knit them together while they were still forming in their mother’s womb. He desires to place on them “a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Isaiah 61).
May we come together and plead before the throne for mercy and justice to triumph tonight.
