Seven months ago I stepped into a local strip club for the first time. Unprepared and unsure of what would happen next, we went and simply asked if it we could keep coming to support the girls who work there. I believe with my whole heart Jesus loves them and His love compelled us to go. While I believe God can open any door He feels like, I was still a little surprised when we were met with excitement and an absolute yes. In fact, the #1 question I get when I talk about our ministry is “what do the club owners think?” And honestly, I can’t explain it. Perhaps they understand at some level the job is tough and perhaps they are just curious. I think they struggle to comprehend why a group of church ladies would care about them or their club. We are typically the ones picketing outside, not the ones sitting across the table from a dancer asking her about her day and her kids.
Seven months later, going into the clubs hasn’t gotten any easier. As I left last night, my heart was broke in a million pieces once again. I listened to a girl recount a story of incredible loss and addiction and I struggled to respond. My heart ached for her. Over the last seven months, not only have I worked hard to grow a ministry, I have been growing a child inside of me. Perhaps more than anything in my life thus far, this has changed me. As I sit and listen to the girls we serve, my new mom heart gets so easily overwhelmed. I ache for them. I hurt for them. And some days, I want nothing more than the ability to wave a magic wand and change their lives. But I don’t have a magic wand or all the answers. All I do have is a deep relationship the One who can heal broken hearts. The One who can take loss and hurt and pain and make it new. So we pray. And we keep going. And we keep loving and pursuing. And my heart keeps aching. I am confident this is what God has called me to do. To ache for them as He does. To pursue them as He does. And to point them to Him. Because I don’t have the answers. I can’t change their life. I can’t make the hurt and loss go away. But I can sit with them in their hurt and listen. When the words escape me, I can simply be there. And isn’t that what we all want? Someone to listen. Someone to care about our story. Someone to ache with us or rejoice with us or laugh with us.
So while I will never say going is easy, I will keep going because God has called us. His heart aches for them and He has called us to the mission of aching for the things that break His heart. It’s messy. It’s tough. It breaks my heart. And it pushes me to dig deeper into Christ and pray hard for my own heart and for the ladies I see week in and week out in the club.
