Partners
Speak Out:
Dan
Allender
There
is an ache for heroes, danger, and goodness and it is found
uniquely in our day caring for exploited men and women and
children. I need to make several confessions before proceeding
into this entry. First, I believe we desperately need people
who rise, in fact, tower, above the mendacity and mediocrity
of our day. I asked a group of Pastors (5) how many in their
church they would consider to be passionately and irrevocably
committed to the Kingdom of God and all its privileges, responsibilities,
and calling. Each looked at me like I was demented. I figured
it was because I seemed to be questioning their integrity
or the goodness of their flock. In fact, it was because they
knew the numbers were so low it boggles incredulity. One said,
“I have a congregation that regularly has 600 at Sunday worship
and I'd answer about 10-20.” The others agreed the numbers
were that low in each of their congregations.
I do not wish to digress
about whom we see as worth our admiration—sports figures,
Christian rock stars—celebrities in the fields of music, ministry,
and words, and people with mega-millions. It is a rant that
I have neither the energy nor interest to sustain. However,
I do know my heart needs heroes—men and women who have lived
with imaginative abandon and foolish savvy to build the Kingdom
of heaven on earth. A hero is an ordinary person who seizes
the opportunity to step into the maelstrom to rescue, to care
for those caught in the dark cruelty of their situation. It
could be an ordinary motorist who sees a car turned over in
the ditch and the early flames of disaster licking at the
spent fuel on the ground, who stops and rushes to the car
to find trapped children and their mother. He risks his well
being to offer rescue. Later, when told he is a hero, he looks
startled and a bit chagrined and says, “Nope. I just did what
anyone would do in that situation.” A hero sees their act
not as one of bravery and choice; instead, it is a divine
necessity put upon them because they were granted the privilege
of being there before anyone else was on the scene. Every
hero is too frightened to feel heroic and too focused to ponder
long whether they should act.
I need heroes because
the church seems so often tragically associated with rich
bozos who own radio stations and predict the coming of Jesus
in May or October, 1994 or 2011 or whenever, whatever. I cringe
as the most recent absurdity that takes the focus of the news
delivers our ‘message' in the clothes of a clown. I simply
need to know that someone is doing more than merely furthering
their career or bearing the slings and arrows of the common
complaints that are no more worthy to be addressed than a
kind and gentle invitation—I plead with you to grow-up.
I need to know that
the gospel actually takes a few men and women into realms
of danger and goodness to offer life when all that exists
is death. I need Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Corrie Ten Boom.
It is good to know such men and women existed on this earth—but
I am a hungry man who needs to know face to face someone who
enters darkness with little regard for the naysayers or the
voices of reason. I met her this past week. I actually met
many such women and a few men this last week at the International
Christian Alliance on Prostitution conference.
A second confession
is that I believe anyone unaware or untroubled by human trafficking
and prostitution is similar to the baker whose shop was outside
of Dachau and who said when interviewed, “I had no idea such
a terrible thing was happening.” It defies incredulity. It
is not only impossible; it is the utter loss of human dignity
as a shining lie is held unto as more precious than the darkest
truth. We have well passed the hour when Christians can say,
“I just didn't know. I thought it was happening in Asia or
Africa, but not in my home town.”
Prostitution exists
in every nook and cranny of our land. The average age of a
prostituted women entering the ‘life' is 13. Not one prostitute
enters fully of her own volition, or untouched by sexual harm
and exploitation well before she turns her first trick. And
it is the same all over the world—the church condemns and
turns away in self-satisfied self-righteousness.
10 Years ago, due to
the arrest of my 16 year old daughter for alcohol possession
and her eventual decision to return to faith, and the subsequent
decision to go to Siberia to work in an orphanage, she learned
that many of her ‘girls' would leave only to become trapped
in the sex slave trade industry. She returned angry and as
an advocate. I listened and was too busy to do anything other
than to feel sad. In turn, she hooked my wife and my wife
awakened me, literally by her tears often at night, and metaphorically
by reminding me that my central calling is to sexually exploited
and damaged people. It might seem obvious that I'd see the
connection, but I am a coward and slow to dawn on the obvious
when I am afraid.
And for 10 years I
have been cautiously putting my toe in these dark waters—teaching
and interacting with front line care givers who put their
lives, reputations, and hearts on the line each and every
day to go where few dare to enter. And then I facilitated
a small group for 4 women who chose to consider the impact
of their own story on their decision to enter the realm of
human trafficking.
I met Cara, Renee,
xxx, and Kimberly. I met four heroes. I will only introduce
you to one, in part, because she is the only one so far to
put her story into print. Now let me come clean as to the
purpose of this blog—buy her book. This is not a book review
or endorsement—it is a plea. Her name is Kimberly Smith and
the title of the book is Passport
Through Darkness (David C. Cook, 2011). Her website is
MakeWayPartners.org .
Milton and Kimberly
were missionaries in Spain when they discovered the reality
of human trafficking near their home. They got involved and
the trafficker threatened the life of their children. It rocked
their worlds and rechanneled their labor. It also ruined their
capacity to turn away and remain quiet.
Kimberly weaves an
intricate and raw story of honesty and struggle with heartbreaking
elegance. She is led to start an orphanage in war-torn, godforsaken
Sudan. All the voices of reason said it was utterly impossible
since the closest supplies were nearly a thousand miles away
and only 3 miles of paved roads existed in that infrastructure
barren land. And that was the least of her troubles. The Janjaweed,
the militant Muslim raiders killed, raped, and stole at random.
Pirates and thieves paroled the battered dirt roads. There
was no one on the ground, but one man, a Sudanese Lost Boy
who was caring for hundreds of orphans who had to sleep in
trees to avoid being eaten by hyenas and lions during the
night.
And Kimberly decided
to build an orphanage and to do so without her husband. The
story is mind-boggling. Milton who is a type one diabetic
simply could not accompany her to Sudan. He remained behind
to care for their kids and provide financial and ministry
support. When I read of his courage to let his wife follow
the calling of God, I wept. Actually, I swore and wept. How
could this be God's plan? How could God ask a husband and
wife who adored each other and found strength and solace to
make such a demanding, and at times, what I felt to be an
unbiblical decision? I raged simply at the thought that God
could separate my wife and I –or call us to danger, or even
extremity. It is too much. But then I read on. And what I
thought might turn into a lovely story of God shows up, riding
on a white steed, his blue passport in hand, the sword of
righteousness and mercy in the other, didn't occur. Instead,
the story turns from momentary offerings of goodness and love
to the dark reality that no one can stop the daily carnage
of starvation, disease and human cruelty. But somehow this
frail reed didn't get broken or the flickering candle allowed
to be snuffed out. That alone is incomprehensible. But far
more than that, the story is not merely about doing good as
the earth totters and seems to come off its hinges. It is
a story of redemption—the story of Kimberly and Milton. The
story has so many layers and complexity it felt like I was
reading a novel. But it is not—it is hauntingly true.
She writes,
Once asleep, I
often dreamed of children scrambling up trees to claim their
branches for the night—safe from hyenas. The next morning
reality would break in with the sun as I bandaged orphans
from wild dog attacks or stitched their split foreheads from
falling out of the high bough of their tree bed. Or worse
yet, I counted the missing children of who we would find no
remains.
Living this life
with orphans made it easy for me to understand we must build
safe housing for them, regardless of the risks or cost. It
is not such an easy leap for those who don't hear the cackle,
wipe off the blood, sew up the skin, or count the MIA orphans
the morning after. Those who haven't seen or heard the orphan's
life tend to rationalize the expense per unit, per square
foot against the fear of war potentially destroying their
investment: a building.
I have looked into
this woman's eyes and she knows the mystery of death and resurrection.
Do I? Am I far more caught up in the cost and the practicality
of my calling or the holiness of being a witness and a presence
for those who have little or no hope?
Let me tell you the
sequence of events of reading her book. I met Kimberly in
my small group. I knew only a few hazy portions of her story.
I had not read her book. But what I met in that group was
a passionate, brilliant, sensitive and wild woman who had
had more than a few experiences of taking on or at least encountering
strong, opinionated Christian male leaders. It would be unethical
to tell a single iota of the time with her and the other three.
But suffice it to say, she knows her story—up to a point.
And when we reached the point where it would cost her dearly
to name and enter domains of heartache that seemed too severe
to suffer, she entered that dark realm with eyes blazing (at
me) and mostly at the evil one. She is a warrior who simply
will not forsake the call to destroy all forms of darkness.
She is a prophetess who will not settle for truth for others
and a form of livable truth for her self. To be in the group
was to watch a valiant woman take on evil and come out dirty,
bloody and triumphant.
And then I read her
book on the flight home. I began weeping in the first half
hour and I was mesmerized and captured for 5 hours straight.
The book haunted me. Here is a woman who is willing to hear
hard truth about her own story from a total stranger with
no trust, no history, and no basis for considering my words.
And she struggled, fought against, and debated those issues
with me in the group, finding for herself the true truth uniquely
meant for her heart. And though that took courage, I later
read she has been to the cruelest heart of darkness on this
earth and found the passion to rise and suffer the stories
of hell for another day.
What does it mean to
be a kingdom of God hero? Enter darkness, especially your
own. Enter that darkness with sufficient humility that it
can only be called foolishness. And to the degree you find
the bright and beautiful light of the kindness of God, then
take that light to the darkest world that God calls you to
enter and then let the voracious winds of hell try and suffocate
the minuscule light you offer in his name. Come to see if
you find God to be real, true, and good.
There are matters of
my heart that I have been too frightened to name and hold
as central to my calling. The particulars are not relevant
at this moment. In reading A Passport through Darkness and
gazing into the daunting, playful, death-knowing and resurrection
believing eyes of Jesus it is time for me to say, “I must
build an orphanage.”
This blog post
was written at: http://www.poopedpastors.com/blogs/heroes-danger-goodness-and-prostituted-women/
Dan Allender
Author of To
be Told and Founding President of Mars Hill Graduate
School
Path
Less Chosen
Mars
Hill Graduate School
BIO:
Dr. Dan B. Allender
received his Master of Divinity from Westminster Theological
Seminary and his Ph.D. in Counseling Psychology from Michigan
State University. Dan taught in the Biblical Counseling Department
of Grace Theological Seminary for seven years (1983-1989).
From 1989-1997, Dan worked as professor in the Master of Arts
in Biblical Counseling program at Colorado Christian University,
Denver, Colorado. Currently, he serves as Professor of Counseling
at Mars Hill Graduate School. He travels and speaks extensively
to present his unique perspective on sexual abuse recovery,
love & forgiveness, worship, and other related topics.
Dan is the author of The Wounded Heart and The Healing Path
and has co-authored several books with Dr. Tremper Longman
(Intimate Allies, The Cry of the Soul, Bold Love and Bold
Purpose).
Dan and his wife Rebecca and their three children Annie, Amanda
and Andrew live on Bainbridge Island.