God longs to hold his daughters hand…

Megan EngstromFrom New Name writes about her experience with Scarlet Hope:Last Thursday I had the privilege of making the trek to KY with my wonderful friend Heather. We have both felt a calling to the sexually exploited and to work together and begin a strip club outreach here in Chicago.When Heather and I arrived in Louisville, KY after a long and wonderful trip, I for one was not quite sure what to expect. After meeting some of the women of Scarlet Hope and having a quick bite to eat we settled down for a Bible study on Ruth and Naomi. Somehow speaking of suffering and opening up with one another on why we feel God allows pain in the world felt so appropriate before heading out to the clubs where suffering is more real than we like to think of on a day to day basis. When we had finished, the rest of the team arrived. I was amazed at the number of men and women who gathered together to serve the Lord. After praying for the team and new name we headed out. Loading up the cars with food and gifts we split into teams to hit the strip clubs.Heather, Rachelle, Hannah and I arrived at our first stop, two little clubs, side to side. As a club that had already been robbed at gunpoint, I didn’t need to know anything else to be anymore convinced this was a dark place. As we approached the door, arms filled with containers of food and gifts, the bouncer held the door and greeted us with a smile. Nothing could have prepared me for this night. I was handed a wipe and with Heather and Hannah we cleaned down the bar top counter which was also where the poles were located. We set up the food and then Hannah took me next door to say hi to the girls there.As I walked into the dimly lit room, I let my eyes adjust while Hannah warmly greeted the bar tender. I reached out to shake her hand as we were introduced and received a shocked expression as this woman wiped her hands on her dress before shaking hands with me. Hannah and I quickly agreed to bring plates of food back for these girls as the food was all set up in the club next door. One dancer walked up to me on the counter, crouched down and asked me the one question I was most fearful of hearing. “Why are you here?” Before any panic could set in I replied “Because we love you.” The shock on this woman’s face was evident as she now sat on the counter in disbelief. “For real?” She asked me, her eyes looking hard into mine as she tried to find the lie she was looking for. “We love you and care for you, and because of that we want to do something for you.” I told her again. “Here, this is for you.” I handed her a set of pearl earring which we were handing out to mom’s for mother’s day and a bottle of satin hand lotion. “This is for me?” she asked. She unfolded her legs and watched me carefully now, unsure of how to act. “There’s food next door for all of you, we’ve brought you dinner.” I told her. Once again the shock registered on her face. “For us?” she asked. She glanced around her at the bar tender and towards the back of the club where I imagine the owner or manager were. “I’m not sure if I should leave now.” She told me. “That’s ok,” I said, shaking my head. “Would you like me to bring you a plate?” She got down now from the counter/stage and jumped at the offer. I told her I’d be right back. When I returned with her food she shook my hand and told me her name was “Lila.” “So, are you a stripper?” she asked. I told her no and she told me about her baby and how she loves to read. Her favorite books are romance. She quickly explained that love was a fairytale and is rarely found. My heart broke as I prayed that somehow she would see that God loves her more than any man ever could. She told me not to have babies until I’ve really lived. She was in her late twenties – early thirties (I’m awful at judging age), but her face was worn and she carried herself with exhaustion and a sense of defeat.The other women I met in these two clubs were all the same in one particular way. They all had a kind of desperation to them. Not in the way we normally think of desperate, but a desperation to be loved and cherished. And the few I spoke with wouldn’t have understood the concept of being cherished if I’d explained it to them. They are all walking around in such pain and from the quips they spit out to cut each other, down to the unease and bashful responses towards kindness these women are valued and loved by God as much as you and I. When He looks at them He sees His children He created. He sees their hurt and pain, self- inflicted or not, God longs for them. To cover them, to fill them with joy and peace, He yearns to heal them and take their burdens. He knows each hair on their head and will never give up on them or stop loving them. They are precious in His eyes. I left those clubs after receiving several hugs and looking into their eyes I believe God allowed me to see a glimpse of what He sees. I saw my sisters, and the love that has filled me could not possibly be my own.We left for the last club we would be visiting that night. This would be the second time Rachelle and Hannah would be going into this place. When we walked in the bar tender/ manager (I think) led us straight back to the dressing room to set-up. We were to do the girls make-up, nails, hair and other pampering tonight. Hannah held me back for a second and whispered to me that this was a huge deal. Just one week before they hadn’t been allowed in the dressing room.It was a slow night. Only three girls working and I only saw one customer in the room. God clearly opened the door for us this night. We began unloading the make-up and turning on the curling iron and hair straightner to heat up. We set out cup-cakes and waited in the tiny dressing room. It was a dirty little room with bad lighting, a carpet with strippers on it, complete with lockers and two big dirty mirrors. One by one the girls came in, including the manager. I started with a young woman “Nikki” who asked me how old I was. I told her I was 23. She told me she was 21. She has a baby and a husband. She proudly pulled a picture from her wallet of a beautiful baby and smiled. I was giving the girls hand massages with a Mary-Kay satin hand treatment. I told her I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable but would she like a hand massage or just to use the lotion herself? She looked at me with her big brown eyes in surprise and stammered at being given an option. “Whatever you like.” she replied. I smiled and gave her a hand massage while Heather worked on her hair. Nikki sat there, wide-eyed and laughed nervously saying “I’ve never been pampered before.” As I rubbed her hands so much smaller than my own, so delicate, I thought of a picture my mother hung over my bed when I was little. It was a picture of Jesus in a meadow with a little girl holding His hand. I realized I was blessed with this opportunity but this is what God longs for, to hold his daughter by the hand and lead her home.After Nikki I gave “Katie” a hand message. Katie was a loud, hilarious woman. But quickly her jokes were an apparent mask for her pain. I overheard her telling the manager that she was uncomfortable, it was her first night wearing a two piece on stage. The manager rolled her eyes and told her she was fine. Katie looked down at her outfit and looked away to hide the pain on her face. She had been in and out of strip clubs for years so I wondered why tonight she felt shame. She left to go back out and I turned my attention to the manager, a tough looking woman with Jim Beam written across her halter-top, crooked teeth and a beautiful smile. “Mimi” was her name. She was 26 years old and had three kids. The first she had when she was 16, the other two by her dead husband, and she’s getting married in a month to a 38 year old. Mimi opened up more than the others but not as much as she wanted. As she talked about her life she would let her guard down just a little, stop, “toughen up” again making some joke out of her own pain, laughing it away. Her eyes pleaded to be understood but she held back. As I listened that night I watched their bonds with one another. Friendship and love are so twisted in their perspectives. I sat down and looked at their mirrors covered in notes from the owner. The lowest one was written in marker and had a big smily face next to it, reminding me of notes my friends mom would leave for her on her bedroom mirror before leaving for work. This note was vastly different. It read “ If caught dancing naked on the bar immediate $20 fine.” Another note said “Must complete six hour shift. If you don’t consider yourself fired.” I looked up at the top of the similar notes all about dress code, fines/penalties, cleanliness, and keeping the dressing room picked up and noticed one that said “this is for your own good, believe it or not… do not be on your own past bar area.” Turns out these women have had issues with kidnapping. The bouncer even walked us to our car that night (calling out to Rachelle, “see you next Thursday, right?). It is a very unsafe place. The peace of God was covering us that night and not once did I experience any fear. But these women, they live in a world of fear. Where abuse is rampant, constantly beat down, they can’t even go to their job without having to worry about being kidnapped. I think about Jesus and the parable of the lost sheep. And I see this is how He feels about these women. They are lost. They are broken. But they ARE loved. And in the midst of this darkness that satan feels is his and he owns, the light of Christ is brighter than anything there. Despite the devil’s best attempts these women belong to God. They are remembered. They are sought after. They are loved.I was blessed to walk with Rachelle and Hannah and see how they minister to the hurt, the poor, the broken, the lonely, the outcasts. Heather and I had MUCH to talk about on the trip back home. I know one thing. I have been changed forever. I know that in my own life, the ways I have fallen from God and dug myself deeper and deeper into the muck and dirt instead of giving up all to Him, He has never stopped pursuing me even for a moment. As I made my mistakes He stood by me and watched, waiting patiently for me to see Him there. And as I stood with these women I knew He was standing there with them, waiting, longing for them to see Him too.“But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt, save others by snatching them out of the fire, to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh.”Jude 20-23
Megan Engstrom

From New Name writes about her experience with Scarlet Hope:

** All dancers, bouncers, etc. names have been changed.

Last Thursday I had the privilege of making the trek to KY with my wonderful friend Heather. We have both felt a calling to the sexually exploited and to work together and begin a strip club outreach here in Chicago.

When Heather and I arrived in Louisville, KY after a long and wonderful trip, I for one was not quite sure what to expect. After meeting some of the women of Scarlet Hope and having a quick bite to eat we settled down for a Bible study on Ruth and Naomi. Somehow speaking of suffering and opening up with one another on why we feel God allows pain in the world felt so appropriate before heading out to the clubs where suffering is more real than we like to think of on a day to day basis. When we had finished, the rest of the team arrived. I was amazed at the number of men and women who gathered together to serve the Lord. After praying for the team and new name we headed out. Loading up the cars with food and gifts we split into teams to hit the strip clubs.

Heather, Rachelle, Hannah and I arrived at our first stop, two little clubs, side to side. As a club that had already been robbed at gunpoint, I didn’t need to know anything else to be anymore convinced this was a dark place. As we approached the door, arms filled with containers of food and gifts, the bouncer held the door and greeted us with a smile. Nothing could have prepared me for this night. I was handed a wipe and with Heather and Hannah we cleaned down the bar top counter which was also where the poles were located. We set up the food and then Hannah took me next door to say hi to the girls there.

As I walked into the dimly lit room, I let my eyes adjust while Hannah warmly greeted the bar tender. I reached out to shake her hand as we were introduced and received a shocked expression as this woman wiped her hands on her dress before shaking hands with me. Hannah and I quickly agreed to bring plates of food back for these girls as the food was all set up in the club next door. One dancer walked up to me on the counter, crouched down and asked me the one question I was most fearful of hearing. “Why are you here?” Before any panic could set in I replied “Because we love you.” The shock on this woman’s face was evident as she now sat on the counter in disbelief. “For real?” She asked me, her eyes looking hard into mine as she tried to find the lie she was looking for. “We love you and care for you, and because of that we want to do something for you.” I told her again. “Here, this is for you.” I handed her a set of pearl earring which we were handing out to mom’s for mother’s day and a bottle of satin hand lotion. “This is for me?” she asked. She unfolded her legs and watched me carefully now, unsure of how to act. “There’s food next door for all of you, we’ve brought you dinner.” I told her. Once again the shock registered on her face. “For us?” she asked. She glanced around her at the bar tender and towards the back of the club where I imagine the owner or manager were. “I’m not sure if I should leave now.” She told me. “That’s ok,” I said, shaking my head. “Would you like me to bring you a plate?” She got down now from the counter/stage and jumped at the offer. I told her I’d be right back. When I returned with her food she shook my hand and told me her name was “Lila.” “So, are you a stripper?” she asked. I told her no and she told me about her baby and how she loves to read. Her favorite books are romance. She quickly explained that love was a fairytale and is rarely found. My heart broke as I prayed that somehow she would see that God loves her more than any man ever could. She told me not to have babies until I’ve really lived. She was in her late twenties – early thirties (I’m awful at judging age), but her face was worn and she carried herself with exhaustion and a sense of defeat.

The other women I met in these two clubs were all the same in one particular way. They all had a kind of desperation to them. Not in the way we normally think of desperate, but a desperation to be loved and cherished. And the few I spoke with wouldn’t have understood the concept of being cherished if I’d explained it to them. They are all walking around in such pain and from the quips they spit out to cut each other, down to the unease and bashful responses towards kindness these women are valued and loved by God as much as you and I. When He looks at them He sees His children He created. He sees their hurt and pain, self- inflicted or not, God longs for them. To cover them, to fill them with joy and peace, He yearns to heal them and take their burdens. He knows each hair on their head and will never give up on them or stop loving them. They are precious in His eyes. I left those clubs after receiving several hugs and looking into their eyes I believe God allowed me to see a glimpse of what He sees. I saw my sisters, and the love that has filled me could not possibly be my own.

We left for the last club we would be visiting that night. This would be the second time Rachelle and Hannah would be going into this place. When we walked in the bar tender/ manager (I think) led us straight back to the dressing room to set-up. We were to do the girls make-up, nails, hair and other pampering tonight. Hannah held me back for a second and whispered to me that this was a huge deal. Just one week before they hadn’t been allowed in the dressing room.

It was a slow night. Only three girls working and I only saw one customer in the room. God clearly opened the door for us this night. We began unloading the make-up and turning on the curling iron and hair straightner to heat up. We set out cup-cakes and waited in the tiny dressing room. It was a dirty little room with bad lighting, a carpet with strippers on it, complete with lockers and two big dirty mirrors. One by one the girls came in, including the manager. I started with a young woman “Nikki” who asked me how old I was. I told her I was 23. She told me she was 21. She has a baby and a husband. She proudly pulled a picture from her wallet of a beautiful baby and smiled. I was giving the girls hand massages with a Mary-Kay satin hand treatment. I told her I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable but would she like a hand massage or just to use the lotion herself? She looked at me with her big brown eyes in surprise and stammered at being given an option. “Whatever you like.” she replied. I smiled and gave her a hand massage while Heather worked on her hair. Nikki sat there, wide-eyed and laughed nervously saying “I’ve never been pampered before.” As I rubbed her hands so much smaller than my own, so delicate, I thought of a picture my mother hung over my bed when I was little. It was a picture of Jesus in a meadow with a little girl holding His hand. I realized I was blessed with this opportunity but this is what God longs for, to hold his daughter by the hand and lead her home.

After Nikki I gave “Katie” a hand message. Katie was a loud, hilarious woman. But quickly her jokes were an apparent mask for her pain. I overheard her telling the manager that she was uncomfortable, it was her first night wearing a two piece on stage. The manager rolled her eyes and told her she was fine. Katie looked down at her outfit and looked away to hide the pain on her face. She had been in and out of strip clubs for years so I wondered why tonight she felt shame. She left to go back out and I turned my attention to the manager, a tough looking woman with Jim Beam written across her halter-top, crooked teeth and a beautiful smile. “Mimi” was her name. She was 26 years old and had three kids. The first she had when she was 16, the other two by her dead husband, and she’s getting married in a month to a 38 year old. Mimi opened up more than the others but not as much as she wanted. As she talked about her life she would let her guard down just a little, stop, “toughen up” again making some joke out of her own pain, laughing it away. Her eyes pleaded to be understood but she held back. As I listened that night I watched their bonds with one another. Friendship and love are so twisted in their perspectives. I sat down and looked at their mirrors covered in notes from the owner. The lowest one was written in marker and had a big smily face next to it, reminding me of notes my friends mom would leave for her on her bedroom mirror before leaving for work. This note was vastly different. It read “ If caught dancing naked on the bar immediate $20 fine.” Another note said “Must complete six hour shift. If you don’t consider yourself fired.” I looked up at the top of the similar notes all about dress code, fines/penalties, cleanliness, and keeping the dressing room picked up and noticed one that said “this is for your own good, believe it or not… do not be on your own past bar area.” Turns out these women have had issues with kidnapping. The bouncer even walked us to our car that night (calling out to Rachelle, “see you next Thursday, right?). It is a very unsafe place. The peace of God was covering us that night and not once did I experience any fear. But these women, they live in a world of fear. Where abuse is rampant, constantly beat down, they can’t even go to their job without having to worry about being kidnapped. I think about Jesus and the parable of the lost sheep. And I see this is how He feels about these women. They are lost. They are broken. But they ARE loved. And in the midst of this darkness that satan feels is his and he owns, the light of Christ is brighter than anything there. Despite the devil’s best attempts these women belong to God. They are remembered. They are sought after. They are loved.

I was blessed to walk with Rachelle and Hannah and see how they minister to the hurt, the poor, the broken, the lonely, the outcasts. Heather and I had MUCH to talk about on the trip back home. I know one thing. I have been changed forever. I know that in my own life, the ways I have fallen from God and dug myself deeper and deeper into the muck and dirt instead of giving up all to Him, He has never stopped pursuing me even for a moment. As I made my mistakes He stood by me and watched, waiting patiently for me to see Him there. And as I stood with these women I knew He was standing there with them, waiting, longing for them to see Him too.

“But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt, save others by snatching them out of the fire, to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh.”

Jude 20-23