What is unthinkable is when a mother needs to sell her body to support her children.
Father God, I am praying for this woman, who is 27 years old, dressed in her pajamas, very tanned, very oiled face, very greasy hair, very big eyes, with a very hopeless look. Drycleaners hangers are on the background with a man’s jeans hanging inside out. One single lightbulb dangling on the left side of her bed. Floral bedsheet. Crimson red floral bedsheet. (I start to wonder why there is colour of red everywhere?) To cover the stairs? To cover the dirt? To arouse visual excitement? I do not dare to let my mind go any further …
Father God, here we are sitting here praying for Rortha. Through my eyes, I take in her face, take in the surrounding wall of her very room. I ask God, you, to santify it, to give her a way to walk out of the sex trade, so that she knows her value lies more than earning a living to support her child (a boy or a girl I have no clue). I pray for her child’s future, for the scar knowing his/her mother is selling her body to support his/her well-being, education, safety, probably paying off family debt.
Father God, I ask you to cleanse her body, her soul, her mind. Garment her with the true value she once poised when she was first created. Clothe her with Your light and Your love, that she needs not to be a prostitute to lead a life.
Father God! Put me there. Put me in her heart, reveal to her there is someone out here remembering her, examining her face, writing about her, praying for her, lifting her needs up into Your hands. I pray that one day if we ever have a chance to meet her in person, face to face, I will tell her all of the above. Right now and right here I believe You had listened to me and answered me.
In Your name I pray, Amen.