Thoughts from Summer Outreach

Here is an update from the summer program Nea Zoi did in the month of July from intern Shelbi W.

"My Grace is Sufficient"


"It is getting harder to leave at the end of the night when we go out to the streets. Can I just stay with them? I promise I will be safe. I know that I am not allowed to be alone out there, but who is going to keep them safe? I find myself wishing that we could go out every night. I have the overwhelming question of "why" screaming in my head all the time. Why. Why her? Why not me? Why is this allowed? Why do you not save them right now God? You walked on water, you healed the sick, you made blind men see... Why are these girls here? Do you know that the girls regularly stand on the streets singing praise songs? Often the conversations go like this: "What fun music! What is it called?" "It is praise music from my country. From Nigeria. Praise to the One who made it all." Then the girl runs off chasing a potential customer. The girls know that what they are doing is sin, but they are trapped by their circumstances and their traffickers. "just as soon as I pay off my debt, then I will find a new job."

"The girls have started to remember me. I do not really blend in here you could say. I remembered their names, thankfully, and was greeted with warm smiles and hugs. I loved seeing them. Its hard not to just grab them, throw them in a car, and go far away. At different times, the girls asked me to sit with them. We would sit there. Just two young women having a conversation. One girl told me of how she missed home. She said she had a lot of family there, but she was here in Athens alone. She told me that if she could, she would go back home right now. She would just fly away and be gone. I am going to find out why she has not done so and offer her the opportunity to go home through Nea Zoi next time I see her.

"Another girl offered for me to sit down on the cardboard box she had set out so the dirty sidewalk would not stain her dress. We laughed at our attempt to both sit on this little pieece of cardboard. We laughed at the size of my butt in comparison to her small frame. We laughed at my recent sunburn and awful tan lines from the merciless Greek sun. We laughed. We talked of how she loved to sing gospel music. I asked her if she would want to sing in front of a crowd ever. She said it did not matter. She loved to sing everywhere. We shared smiles and stories. But we shared an unspoken pain. We could joke and laugh, but we did it amongst the darkness of a street filled with men walking by and gawking at us. She sat safe with me, but I could not keep her safe. Everytime I looked at her I could see a yearning to be as far away from here as she could be. I watched her fiddle with her phone and hands, never really looking up. I wanted to throw away any normal conversation, and just grab her and hold her close to me. I wanted to let her cry. Cry for the injustice of it all. Cry for where her life had taken her. Cry for what had been stolen from her. I could see so much pain that could not come out.

"You see this girl who I sat on the box with. She has not been making enough money, thus her family has been threatened. They have reduced the amount she has to pay off, but she still has another two years [of this work] ahead of her. She is dying inside. You can see it all over her face. Her family has been threatened so she receives pressure from them. She receives pressure from her traffickers. She is ravaged by her customers. She must go out night after night allowing others to take advantage of her. No one seems to care for her. All is hopeless. I look at her and I want to scream at every man that walks by with that disgusting look. I want to fight for her. tell her she is loved. Oh, she is adored. That is when the question "why" begins to scream in my head. I hear "My grace is sufficient." What does that mean? Every time I cry out to the Lord, this is what I hear. Grace. Grace. My Grace. I am not going to pretend to understand. I am not going to play all knowing holy Christian.

"Was I blaming God for all of this? Paul is talking about nothing being out of his own good, but rather from God. I see all this injustice and it is hard to comprehend and understand my God in this context. But why this verse? Is the Lord reminding me that this pain I feel He feels even more than I do? All the filth, this is what sin does. This is what sin is. Have I not been walking in the grace of God? Yes. But what about these girls? I am not questioning that God's grace is not enough, but am I questioning his heart in comparison to mine? When I understand this verse in the context of my life right now I shall let you know.

"Pray For L. Pray for hope. Pray for every girl on this street. Every girl I meet. I have no idea how I will ever be able to leave them. Pray. Pray. Pray. For I know His Grace is sufficient.

"2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." "


~Shelbi W.