What Would we do if we had All the Money we Need?

Sunday night I trekked out to San Mateo where a Congregational Church was hosting an awareness conference about sex trafficking in the region.

I expected “big lawn” suburbia, but the Congregational Church of San Mateo commands a whole corner in a Latino neighborhood. Stopped at a taqueria for a quick dinner and was the only non-hispanic-latino person in the place.  Talk about great food!!!

The evening was spent viewing a video presenting interviews with woman after woman who had – one way or another – found herself in the sex trade.  One tiny woman who looked much older than her age told of being sold by her mother to a “man passing through” their small town in rural Appalachia.  She appeared in desperate need of dental care. As I watched I thought Father, please send someone to watch this who will help her get her teeth fixed!

An older African American woman spoke in a halting voice, sometimes sobbing. She told of growing up in an inner city community where street prostitution was “just what women did.”  By her early teens she followed in the footsteps of the role models she saw on the streets of her neighborhood. She spoke honestly of depression, violence, and a lifelong feeling of helpless, hopeless terror.

There was the story of a 14 year-old runaway picked up by a truck driver on a country road and a troubled teenager whose new “boyfriend” promised they could get an apartment together if she would “help” pay the rent by providing sex for his friends.

Each story was shocking in its simplicity. Lack of parental protection. Family histories of abuse, addiction, domestic violence and poverty. Every woman reported sexual abuse before the age of 12.

Each woman’s story illustrated the “signs” of trafficking: force, fraud, ad coercion.

I represented Because Justice Matters at a ‘meet and greet’ information time after the conference.  People filled the crowded room, rushing by, snatching up brochures or hurriedly signing up for our online newsletter. Others stopped to ask questions: “So does trafficking happen in your neighborhood or is it just ‘regular’ prostitution?” Or, “Your dance program only reaches a handful of girls. What can be done to help all the others?”

People were surprised to hear about “massage parlors” in our neighborhood that are actually brothels. In their heartfelt urgency to see the horror of sex trafficking stopped in our world, it seemed hard for the conference attendees to understand just how long it takes to build relationships of trust with women. They longed for epiphany-like moments when women would “see the light” and leave for new lives.

So do we.

One gentle woman, a former marriage and family therapist asked, “What would you do if you had all the money you needed?”

My thoughts whirled around like balls in an arcade game. All the money we needed? What would we do?

“A second women’s center in the Mission or the Haight,” I said immediately. “Runaways, kids aging out of foster care – they are at risk of trafficking in those neighborhoods especially.

“Some money to help new staff and staff who are struggling to raise enough financial support,” I continued.

“I want to see our staff size double….A budget for a team called to reach out to women in the strip clubs and street prostitution.”

I thought a bit. The woman smiled. 

“And, enough money to take our BJM staff women on a real vacation.  Beach. Waves. Good food. Mojitos and deck chairs and ‘vacation’ novels. Absolutely nothing to do but relax.”

It wasn’t until I had loaded the car and was headed back to the City on Highway 101 that I thought. Wait. Who was that woman? Why did she ask that question?

And I wondered, What would we really do if we had all the money we need? Wow….

I am part of a team at Because Justice Matters.
BJM women are the Best. Team. Ever. Quote from our director and visionary, apostolic, leader Ruthie Kim.
We celebrated Christmas together by learning to cook Thai food at this very cool place in SF. An old church turned into a residence and workspace. I haven't laughed so much in AGES. Yes, we played "telephone" during dinner.
The heart of this team is love and unity. Supporting each other and truly "seeing" each other. Valuing what each person brings. Affirming.
This team lives out the core value of "stopping for the one." We do it for women in our community and on the streets. (so it maybe takes a half hour to walk from the YWAM base one block to The Well because of all the "ones" we pass and love...Is this a problem?).
We stop for the one with each other. A meeting may detour into listening, caring, and prayer if someone needs encouragement. We regularly schedule times to hang out and laugh. Lisa, our Well director instigates glorious silliness (who knew a shopping trip with Lisa would reveal gentle, introverted, prophetic Meg posing like a super model in the "cool clothes" section of a department store?)
This year, one of my so-thankfuls is the privilege of working with women who share vision, commitment, unity, and love. Best. Team. Ever.

Who Will Come? Back in the Tenderloin....

Taking a break and coming home again.

At the end of December, BJM staff scattered across the country to celebrate Christmas with family and friends. It felt odd to walk by The Well, all silent and dark. Manicure Monday closed until the New Year. 

We all took a much-needed break to rest and recharge our spiritual and emotional batteries for 2015.

After a few days on retreat at Bethel Church in Redding (think: sleep, eat, hang out with Chris and Sarah Pollasch, lie on the floor in the prayer chapel or the Healing Room.... worship music washing over you like waves…repeat) and a long Christmas weekend with my son-in-law’s wonderful family in nearby Vacaville, I returned to the Tenderloin.

It felt like home. Familiar. Happy to see Donna on the street.  She hugged me and said, “I AM going to come back to Nail Day. I miss you guys….just because I don’t like all the women doesn’t mean I can’t come, right?”   

Seeing some of the sketchy drug-dealer-and-user types have moved from their "home" from the sidewalk in front of the park entrance during construction. Some are gone. Good!  A few have reloacted to the concrete in front of the YWAM base.  Hmmm...Not so nice. Pondered how much energy I wanted to spend getting to know Rena, a woman who sells drugs from her wheelchair. Her "sketchy guy" clientele are, well, sketchy.  Gave her a poncho during the rain just before Christmas. Now, she greets me like an old friend.

Back in the thick of it!

 I went to the post office to run errands. About a block from home, a woman came up to ask for money for “Subway.”  I said – as always – I don’t give money to anybody. But I would gladly buy her a sandwich. She mulled that one over. I could see she wanted money, not food. But, she was torn…after, all, a sandwich was better than nothing. Hmmm….

While she was mulling, a young-ish man in a wheelchair zipped by. As he passed, he grabbed the scarf around my neck and pulled. Perhaps he thought he could steal and sell it for a buck or two. Perhaps he was just being obnoxious. But, the scarf was one of those “circle” types, so it stayed around my neck.  He rolled away.  I turned, suddenly feeling furious.

 I shouted. “Hey…. you….HEY. Stop!” The man turned. “I am old enough to be your mother. What are you thinking, grabbing my scarf?”  He looked sheepish.  “Well?” I asked, waiting for a response.

“Um….happy holidays, ma’am,” he mumbled.

I’m back in the Tenderloin, I thought.  The woman looked surprised. Maybe my reaction wasn't what she'd expected from somebody's mom wearing Doc Marten boots and a pink scarf!   She switched gears, and  tried to hit me up for “just $10 to get a room.  It’s cold…” When she continued to press, I put my hand out like a traffic cop. “Stop. I really meant it when I said no money to anyone. You don’t want a sandwich, you want money. Now, I’m leaving.”

I continued my errands. Mail. Pharmacy. Pooh…the little donut shop on Ellis and Taylor was closed (like I needed a donut after Christmas in Vacaville where Karen, my “partner in grandma-ing” fed us like royalty).  

Back at the YWAM base – and home, I saw LB had returned to her usual perch on a milk crate where she sells drugs for a dealer in Oakland. She’s there every day, huddled in her puffy jacket and black watch cap. Until, one day a couple of weeks ago, she rushed into Nail Day, shaking and disoriented. Her mother had died. She was frantic and despairing. “This has got to stop…I’m getting out of here,” she kept saying. She let us pray for her and sat with her much-beloved BJM staffer Cassandra, for nearly an hour, rambling and crying. 

Then, she disappeared for a week or so – mourning her mother. Having a funeral.  Seeing relatives. Grieving and alone. But, now she was back. We sat together on the sidewalk, talking about mothers. About missing hers – and mine. About remembering what made our mothers special and beloved.  She let me bless her….releasing God’s heart for “new things….that this year will bring the changes you have been hoping for. For new life this year.” We hugged. I pray that this might be the year when she makes a life for herself without drugs or street corners.  I LOVE LB!

The new neighborhood park opened. The glorious sound of children’s voices echos across the corners of Jones and Eddy streets. Not business-as-usual in the Tenderloin. But kids playing. Shouting. Laughing. It is the sound of life. Of hope for something different for these children.

This is a park surrounded by special “entrance proof” fencing. The gates are locked except during specified play hours. And even then, a police officer is always, always present every moment. On the federal sex offender registry, our neighborhood map is filled with red and blue “dots” marking offenders and predators. Creating a safe space for children is a serious challenge.

Some of the girls playing in the park will make their way to The Well and our dance program. A handful will be loved and mentored by Gabby and Cassandra. Others will be drawn into life on the streets.  There simply aren’t enough Gabbys and Cassandras to reach them all.

Seeing them reminds me of the scripture “the fields are white ….ready to harvest, but the workers are too few!.....Pray to God, the Lord of the harvest, asking Him to send more workers.”   BJM needs more staff! Who will reach out to those young girls – still innocently playing at our beautiful new neighborhood park.? Who will come to help us create a street outreach team to build relationship with LB and the hundreds of other women who need love and hope here?

The harvest fields are ripe….filled with people who need hope and love. Who need to know that Jesus sees them. That they aren’t invisible.  The workers are few.

For 2015 I am praying for more hearts (and bodies) here at BJM.  I want to see a BJM team reaching out and building relationships with women working in the neighborhood strip clubs and in prostitution on the streets.  Cassandra and Gabby would like to expand our dance and mentoring ministry with at-risk girls in the neighborhood.  Karol and Carolina would love to reach more mothers in the neighborhood…hard-working, overwhelmed Latino women….quiet, lonely refugees – often Muslim – feeling stranded in this city. And recently, a few women from “the streets” who want something better for their daughters than they experienced.

On the dining room wall at the YWAM base, two large frames hold photos of every YWAM San Francisco staff member. One space is empty, with a note, “Could this be you?”

Will you join me in prayer for that “empty space” to be filled? Volunteers are beyond wonderful. We love and depend on them. And, full-time committed staff are necessary to lead. To listen to God, envision, and create the foundation into which volunteers can come and give.

Will you pray for a woman called to use dance and movement to help traumatized women heal? For a team of women willing to love and invest in girls in this neighborhood where no child should have to live? For a few brave hearts whose eyes light up when they think about befriending, honoring, and loving women who sell their bodies in strip clubs and on the streets? 

Each new staff person must raise her own support. Will you pray and consider committing some of your long-term giving to new BJM staff?

The fields are ready for harvest. But, there just aren’t enough workers to find all the treasure God has in the Tenderloin. 

Someone’s picture belongs in the empty space in that frame in the dining room. Could it be yours?