Why her, and not me?
I'm wrestling this afternoon with a heavy question. It's been an ongoing one the last few years. I can force it away by not thinking about it, but it never goes away. Yesterday I went prayer walking in the neighborhood across the tracks from our apartment. I've been walking there on and off for the last 3 years or so. What drew me and a few others to begin going there were the number of brothels we noticed going up in that neighborhood. Today, 3 years later, there are even more. I can't even begin to tell you that it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. Walking into the door of a brothel is not easy! We visited a karaoke bar that a few of my friends have been visiting the past couple months. Last week we made an acquaintance with a young mother in her late twenties, from the countryside, who too shares the same faith as me. What poverty drove her to this dark place? Why does she have to be here? Why did I get to live my life peacefully across the tracks...