A Stone Well Thrown

It’s 3 a.m. and sleep escapes me again. 

Images of young girls, tucked in filthy brothels instead of snug beds, desecrated by a steady stream of unrestrained men, clutter my mind.  Thoughts of scarred middle school girls climbing into the cabs of parked 18-wheelers interrupt any hope of pleasant dreams.  A glance at the clock reminds me that only a few hours remain before I meet the morning’s demands; yet I know that those held against their will desperately hope for daybreak to end their horror, if only for a brief while.

Human trafficking interrupts!   

It destroys the dreams of people longing to escape poverty.  It robs innocence from young children.  And it messes with my life.

 I can no longer sip on coffee or sneak bites of my favorite chocolate without asking if those beans have been harvested by a fragile six year old slave-child.   I research the supply chain of a company before I buy my cotton shirt, making sure there is no hint of a sweat shop.  I keep a protective eye on customers patronizing nail salons as well as young girls hanging out at the local mall. 

And I interrupt my lazy Saturday to pray in the rain for the rescue of teens trafficked on Interstate 10. 

Human trafficking seems Goliath in proportion to the stones I throw at it, but if I join mine with yours, I believe God, honoring our obedience, will strike down this giant in our lifetime. 

Running from it leaves an individual, not a statistic, without a voice or a hope for the future. 

So what stone will you choose? 

Will you support a mentoring program that protects the vulnerable from becoming another casualty? 

Will you add your name to a petition?  Perhaps your stone will simply tell the real-life stories of victims or offer powerful  prayers for the rescued ones. 

David boldly approached his Goliath in the name of the LORD Almighty.  

With the same confidence, let’s raise our stones!