When I first started this blog, I made an agreement with myself that I would never publish a post when I was feeling a strong emotion, because often the words and expressions that come from a high emotion come out wrong. Emotional writing usually either comes across as cynical or angry or needy or whatever else. Don’t get me wrong, emotion is very useful in writing and perhaps even somewhat essential. I definitely use emotion in writing my posts, but I’ve not yet written one from that place of such emotion and feeling that you can literally feel it in your belly. The kind of emotion that makes you type furiously and with abandon because you really could hardly care about how this thing comes out, just as long as it does.

I confess: I’m writing from that place today.

But it somehow seems right, and if it’s not, and (God, forbid) the emotion and feeling wears off tomorrow or next week and I look back and wish I hadn’t written this at the height of feeling, then I will deal with that then.

I am not a very emotional person, in the sense that I show emotion easily. I’ve often wished I would cry more than I do over something touching. I do cry, but usually it’s over something that I am personally dealing with and not over something that someone else is dealing with. I might not cry, but something I have always dealt with is the thing of feeling what someone is feeling. I don’t know if this is a gift or what, but when I know of someone going through something difficult, I can sometimes feel that pain myself, as if I were actually experiencing it. There have been times in my life that I’ve worked myself really down because of this, with carrying the feelings and pain of someone on my own shoulders. Thankfully, I had someone very instrumental in my life who taught me how to care but not carry, and that has been such a valuable lesson.

Today I’m feeling that thing…that thing inside that just won’t let you go about your day without crying and praying and begging God to do something.

Ben and I watched this last night. If you haven’t yet seen it, please take the time to do so, but I warn you that it will wreck you. It will make you responsible for what you know.

This morning I sit here, comfortable, safe, and well. And I think of the millions of souls that are, at this very moment, living in a very real kind of hell…the worst kind of hell that takes something so sacred from you…the kind of hell that not only destroys your body, but your very soul.

I can’t even attempt to convey the feelings that those women and children trapped in sexual slavery feel…there is no way I can do it justice. I know there is no way that I can even know what they feel and experience…but I do know that it has to be the worst kind of existence. To be seen as an animal, as a thing to be used, not a person to be loved or even noticed…I don’t even understand how the heart’s of men and women who actually exploit others in this way can be so hard and cold. How can a person look at a child with tears in her eyes and terror in her face and not care? How can a person not be moved by this? How can a parent actually sell their own flesh and blood just so they can live more comfortably?

Evil.

There is evil in this world, and it takes over the hearts of men. Evil seeks to destroy innocence and life, and it has done it in millions of women, girls, and children all over the world. It can feel so hopeless, so overwhelming…there are so many…evil can feel so large and big, and it is. But there is something larger and bigger and more powerful then evil, and that thing is Love, and that thing lives in us.

The question I ask myself: what will I do with that Love?

My favorite part of the film is towards the end, when several of the formerly prostituted women talk about Jesus…they share their stories of how He came to them, how He saved them, how gentle He was with them, how He didn’t condemn them, how He just loved them. Only Jesus can turn the lives of these broken women and girls into something absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.

The producers of the film shared this quote from William Wilberforce: “You may choose to look the other way, but you can never say again that you did not know.” I can never again say that I do not know, and I pray with all my heart that I will never choose to look the other way. I pray that I will never choose to not care just because it looks overwhelming and huge to even pull one soul from this kind of prison. I pray that God would show us how, in whatever way, we can fight for the ones who cannot fight for themselves.

I woke up this morning…I thought of these souls…and the only thing I can say is: come, Lord Jesus, come.

What about you: have you seen Nefarious: Merchant of Souls? What has the Lord laid on your heart to do to fight this war?

I’d love to hear your thoughts!