Love’s House


Haunted. That is exactly what Christian Dunn felt when he awoke in a cold sweat. He had been dreaming, but it was all too real. Could he even call it dreaming? It was a nightmare! After two weeks he still could not shake the look in those eyes.

Chris had been in India on a mission trip. Posing as customers, he and a friend infiltrated one of the brothels that was planned to be raided. Nothing could have prepared him for what he had seen there. Girls and women of all ages – some couldn’t have been more than eight years old were sitting there. All of them had a lifeless look in their eyes. The unmentionable horrors they had endured had killed their spirit. It broke his heart to see such injustice. He was sickened by the sight of it all. Just as much, he was disgusted at himself. To pose as the very thing he hated – a man that victimized these girls and women for cheap pleasure, made him sick to his stomach.

There was one girl in particular – she couldn’t have been more than ten years old. Dressed in her finery, her eyes were unlike the others. She must have been new to the brothel because there was still a spark in her eyes – there was still life in her eyes instead of the hollowness that was found in the others. The other girls did nothing more than glance at the men when they had come in. But this girl, she was different. Somehow she stood out amongst the others.

The women and girls did not have names. They had been stripped of their names when they were brought there. Whether they had been picked up or sold by their own families or had come on their own accord – they were not called by names, they each had a number – A number because they were not be human enough for a name for the unspeakable things that were done to them on a daily basis. Number 126 stared out at them. Her eyes held the truth of the shameful acts that she was forced into, but they also held onto a thread of hope that she could be rescued. She hadn’t given up yet. As she looked at Christian and Drew her eyes were hard as if to say, You won’t break me. After a moment or two though, they softened. The girl must have realized that they were not there to hurt her. They were not like other men. How she picked up on that, neither were sure. But in a moment the look in her eyes changed as if to beg them,help me! Save me!

 As Chris and Drew left the brothel, both had heavy spirits for the terrors that went on in that place. They felt disgusted at the fact that they even acted as customers for such a place. They prayed as they walked back to the camp. The night after tomorrow, there would be a raid on the brothel that they had visited. The women and girls would go free and be moved to a home which the team had just finished building weeks earlier.

Love’s House – it was called. Their theme verse was found in 1 Corinthians 13, “Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. Love never fails.” In this home the rescued victims would be taught to read and write with the word of God. They also had a ministry to counsel the victims of the sex trafficking that they had lived through. Each woman would be taught a skill to live on. It was a nine month program and worth every penny put into it, every hour spent working on it, and every life that was changed by it.

Many who worked in the home were volunteers and several were women who had previously been brought through the program who had found such a miraculous healing in Jesus that penetrated deep into the soul. The once hardened, lifeless eyes were now bright and hopeful and filled with purpose. She always had a smile and was the first to share her testimony with the new girls.

Healing hadn’t come easy for her. Mitali’s very mother was the woman who ran the brothel and she gone and sold her off to another. After being sent away to another town in India, Mitali had to learn to adjust to life in the brothel. In her heart she daily dealt with the hurt that her mother had sold her into this life – her very own mother. She could not understand the rejection. The pain of it stung deep inside her heart. But one thing that Mitali had learned over the course of her short life and with her time in the brothels – you had to do whatever it took to survive. That meant numbing yourself from all experiences. You had to become dead because to live hurt. To live meant not only the pain, but shame and emotions too raw and too powerful to even put a name to. She thought she had reached that place of a rock-hardened soul – then she was rescued. It didn’t happen in a moment, but it was a process. But it happened . And it was in Love’s House that she discovered what true love really is – and WHO true love is. It was here she met Love Himself – Jesus.

#31DaysofFreedom

This is a fictional story containing very true events. This happens many times. Please get plugged in and help save these girls. Give them a chance to meet Love. 

 

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Content, yet Hopeful… Guest Post by Meghan Gorecki


Today we have a most beautiful and inspiring guest post by Meghan Gorecki, who is a dear old friend of mine! !

Meghan is a young woman striving to live a simple life under the Lord’s unique direction, & daily learning that “to live is Christ, but to die is gain.” Her days are filled to overflowing with working full-time as a medical receptionist, her crazy-awesome family, & pursuing her “dream job” of becoming a published fiction author. Though her passion is fiction writing, she records the crazy days, love, tough lessons, & laughter that color her days on her blog, Just As I Am.

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Always being a hopeless/now-cynical romantic, news of engagements, weddings or “relationship statuses” changing always bring a sappy smile to my face. Hearing of unique, divinely-penned love stories always bring me goosebumps and I just shake my head in wonderment of God’s perfect plan for each and every one of us. *Laughs* And at the same time I can say with utmost honesty that I am quite content in my “single” status! This *doesn’t* mean I don’t look around on occasion and wonder where “my guy” is…but I digress.

As my friends and I are getting older, talks of crushes or “boys” have progressed to serious discussions about what we look for {and what we don’t want} in future husbands…while still other friends are hopeful about future relationships, or *in* serious relationships! One of my friends is expecting her thirdchild–her love story is a *very* special and unique one I am privileged to have witnessed. As much as my deepest heart’s desire is to get married and have as many children as God’s will’s…I am, frankly, blown away by the fact that I don’t “feel” like me & my friends are “old enough” to be actually going through or developing serious relationships that may just turn into marriage!

Time has flown by at an alarming rate…it feels like only yesterday a friend and I were perusing Before You Meet Prince Charming, denouncing “crushes” and romance novels…and nobly making “lists” of the “musts” for our future spouses. *Disclaimer: the book referenced is a great book, helpful, to a point. Just slightly went to the extreme…crushes, I have NO room to talk, only had one till I was 12…and I love a good cheesy historical book!* At that time, I was *so* swept up in all of that, it proved to be a slight stumbling block…in other reminisces, I remember vividly how I *SO* wanted to be married at eighteen and having a passel of children by my mid-twenties. Oh the daydreams of an overly romantic old-fashioned little girl…

I rejoice with those who rejoice in new-found, or progressing, relationships…yet it is ALL still so foreign to me half the time I don’t know what to think exactly. But I do know this–I can listen, rejoice with them, and pray for them in the new season. It’s a privilege at every step of the way…while it is *also* a privilege to pray for my utterly single friends’ future husbands, and pray with them in this season where God is preparing us, and “our guys” for our lives together.

I have a journal under a light layer of dust that has a few “letters” to my future husband recorded…I think about him, and where he is, what he’s doing, quite often. And on occasion I do ponder who he could be. I do have a “list” of qualities I hope my husband to have, but it is *not* extensive–compared to certain “lists” two of my friends and I compiled at a young age that boasted forty or more “requirements” for our guys. Don’t judge. Those days of day-dreaming childhood are gone, while the more serious business of asking the Lord to prepare and shape *me* are uppermost in my mind…but I do “dabble” on Pinterest with my dream wedding. smile Regardless of when, where or how gorgeous the wedding is…no matter how many times I may be a bridesmaid before a bride, I am thankful and content where I am now. Yet I am so hopeful for someday… beginning a new life with a beautiful wedding day, & carving out that new life with God at the center.

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How has this post encouraged you? Please feel free to share in the comments. Blessings!

~Brittany

Father Figure – Instilling Identity


In my studies and in my life I have come to this conclusion that i firmly believe in — the role of the father in his daughter’s life is to instill into her identity. A mother nurtures, but a father instills value – both are needed. The statistics show that nearly 13.7 million single parents live in the U.S. These 13.7 million parents are responsible for raising approximately 26% of children under 21 (about 21.8 million). Mothers make up over 82% of the parents with the primary care. (Source of Statistics) These statistics show a lacking presence – which is all the more confirmed by this generation who, as they grow find out that they do not know who they are. A father shows his sons what it means to be a man and what it is to be a good husband. A father shows his daughters what a good husband looks like and what they should be looking for in a man. My heart goes out to those who do not have such a father as I have been so blessed with. The father shapes so much of a child’s life and leaves a very deep impression on how one sees their heavenly Father as well.   Today I lift my prayers for those who do not have fathers, who have lost a father, who never had one, who have been hurt by their father that they would receive a deep and true revelation of their heavenly Father’s love for them and for them to see their identity and worth in Him. And I thank God for the blessing of having a father who shows me what a real father is and also who shows me who I am through himself.

A father is the protector. He is the keeper of his daughter’s heart.

Because of my daddy, I know who I am and I am confident in who I am.

Because of my daddy, I have identity.

Because of my daddy, I know that I am loved.

Because of my daddy, I know what I’m waiting for and what to look for in my future husband.

Because of my daddy, I know that I am protected.

Because of my daddy, I know that I am provided for.

Because of my daddy, I know who I am.

My daddy is not perfect, but he does His best. He loves the Lord and he loves his family and it shows in how he lives.

Daddy,

Today, I honor you. Thank you for showing me what it means to be loved. Thank you for instilling value and identity into me. Thank you for everything that you do and everything that you are. Thank you for the way that you love Momma, it blesses my heart so much to see. Thank you for working hard and providing for us so that we can live well and comfortably. I love that you are a family man. Thank you for being so patient and for teaching me. And I love who you have come to be. I love all the memories that I have of you. Thank you for loving me the way that you do. You inspire me, daddy. And I am who I am – with much of that due to you. I will never out-grow you. I will always need you. Thank you for keeping my heart safe. You are a blessing that I continually thank God for! You are a man of character and integrity — and I’m watching for a man like you. (But I think Momma already got the best.) 

I love you, Daddy! 

Always your little girl,

Brittany

Happy Fathers Day! 

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