Restoration in the Dance Bars

For the first two weeks in Nepal, we stayed in Kathmandu for debriefing and training. The whole squad was back together again, joined by our squad mentor and coaches from the States, to process our first month on the field. We stayed in the touristy area, Thamel, and walked the overcrowded streets and bustling markets day in and day out. It became routine and we made friends on our walk: Shamu the patch guy, Ruku the leather gal, Riman the party goer, Santos the artist and of course, our falafel guys. 

After debrief, our team left for Lalitpur, a district of Kathmandu where we would be serving with our ministry host for the month – The Agape Mission International. Among the many ministries they do throughout the week (if ya haven’t seen the blog yet), one of them is ministering to the women in dance bars. 

So, we went back to Thamel, where the dance bars lure in the tourists that come for sick entertainment only the insides of the bars could provide. Brian gave us an outline for the evening, starting with a prayer walk throughout the streets to discern where the Lord was leading us. We strolled slowly, eyes open to the dance bars and extra sensitive to hearing from Him.

So, we walked. I stopped to say hi to my local friends and reminisced over our sweet time in Thamel. But this time, I was shocked to notice the plethora of dance bars that littered the streets I thought I knew so well.

Not ONCE had I noticed them. I had utterly failed to see there were institutions committed to the selling of women and the enterprises of pimps. Right where I had stayed. Exactly where I had walked back and forth every day for two weeks. Right under my nose were people desperately in need, hungry for love.

Much like Peter in the Gospel, I had denied these dance bars. I essentially rejected their very existence. I rejected the idea that such pain and manipulation was occurring in my midst. I didn’t want it to be true. Just like when Peter sat around the charcoal fire, he denied Jesus three times in a sad attempt to save himself and avoid the painful truth (John 18:17-18, 25-27).

I wanted to weep. I wanted to let these women be seen, known, and loved. I so badly wanted to relate my own story to theirs in a humble offering of solidarity and empathy. But, as the story goes, once Peter denied Jesus three times and knew the weight of his actions, he wept (Luke 22:59-62).

So this time, instead of sitting in guilt or shame, I had my eyes peeled and heart receptive. After our team walked, we shared what we felt the Lord was saying, and cohesively ended up at a dance bar in the middle of town.

In all honesty, when we walked in, it felt like a fun atmosphere. Flashing lights, bumpin’ tunes, and people dancing. Nothing felt inherently wrong. 

I immediately wanted to say to Jesus, ‘send someone else’. I hadn’t allowed these people and these women to be seen when I was staying in Thamel, so who am I to minister to them now? This dance bar that had brought shame and guilt upon me was now requiring my presence. Where I thought I had let others down, I now needed to lift them up. Where I saw failure and inadequacy, He saw perfect confidence and complete security.

As we stepped inside, we claimed Holy Ground. We humbled ourselves to the ministry with total dependence on the Lord to prepare our hearts and the hearts of those we would talk to, to guide our conversations, and to protect us from schemes of the enemy. My denial had numbed me from seeing the pain of the dance bars; the numbing that was once holding me together was now shattered. I had nothing else to rely on but Him; my neediness became a catalyst of utter dependence.

Each of us chatted with the working girls, listening to their stories: their families, hobbies and dreams. We saw their humanity, the brokenness behind faces full of makeup and hurt masked in scantily clad outfits, and still saw their need for deliverance from this place causing harm. 

Our goal was simple: to connect with the girls, to be friends and build trust. We wanted to see them again outside of the dance bar, and ideally meet for coffee that week. 

We had heard stories of these excursions bearing fruit: women that wanted desperately to leave their jobs and were provided opportunities by Agape Missions to attend the English Center, beauty school, or tailoring school. Women who were offered jobs at one of the many ministry partners in Kathmandu, or even taken in as family in neighbor’s homes. If none of these, they were connected with others who could meet their needs, both physically and spiritually.

All that being said, I went in with open hands and an expectant heart. The Lord sent me back to Thamel, back to the streets that were now causing me anguish. But this time, He called me in. He allowed me to see these women. He restored my perceived failures and gently forgave me. Where I was once blind, now I saw.

But, Jesus didn’t stop there; He forgave, then He commissioned. After Peter denied Jesus three times, Jesus was crucified and resurrected. Then, He appeared to Peter on the shore as He was preparing breakfast around the charcoal fire. Jesus asks Peter three times, ‘do you love me?’ (John 21:9).

Don’t miss this: Peter denied Jesus three times and then was offered to restore His love for Jesus THREE times. AND, Peter stood near a charcoal fire when he denied Jesus, now Peter is again around the charcoal fire as he is being restored. Peter was brought back to the place of shame, guilt and failure, but this time, all was made right and he was completely restored.

But again, Jesus didn’t stop there; not only was Peter affirmed but commissioned. Jesus says, feed my lambs, take care of my sheep and feed my sheep (John 21). Jesus re-commissioned Peter as a leader in the church. His failure did not disqualify him; his indictments and inadequacies were teaching tools instead of shaming experiences because they weren’t tied to his identity. In fact, Peter’s denials were not crippling but propelling in his forgiveness, restoration, and mission. He claimed renewal and peace in the middle of despair knowing our experiences can’t define us because they didn’t create us.

All night, I talked to Serena*. I had to get us Cokes to get time with her, but long story short, she quit her job the next day. I have never felt so attached to someone I barely know, but Lord, cover her in your peace and protection. Lead her to safety.

That night, I had awful nightmares. Nightmares that could only expose a sliver of what Serena experienced daily. Nightmares that woke me up in gripping fear, checking if the bruises I felt were real. Nightmares that caused me to question my trust for others. Nightmares that brought me back to the very instance I’ve wanted to forget but is the very reason empathy and compassion consumed my heart for these girls.  

When we pray for Him to break our hearts for what breaks His, it’s a weighty prayer. It’s a daring petition to put yourself in the shoes of others; to physically feel their pain and carry their burdens. To stand in the gap for someone else is an honor I don’t take lightly. My heart cry is fervent and indignant prayers for my sisters stuck in sex trafficking and exploitation.

Thank you, Lord, for showing up through someone as broken as me. Like Peter’s story, You restore and commission us, calling us from brokenness to call others into the Kingdom. You cast shame and guilt aside to allow me to see these women and to let Serena know she is seen, known and loved. Thank you for the gift of compassion; to go where it hurts, to share in pain, brokenness, confusion and anguish. To cry with those in misery, mourn with those in pain and weep with those who feel helpless. Thank you that mercy always triumphs judgement, that Your light will always overcome the darkness and Your love will always cast out fear. We look to you with hearts overwhelmed with gratitude for Your goodness and sovereignty. Thank you for who You are. Amen.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4 NIV)

*Name changed for confidentiality and protection. I’m still in contact with her, but please  join in intercession for our sweet sister. And, these photos are, of course, not her.