freedom

How to Become Undaunted

This is the second in a 2-part story from Christine Caine’s Undaunted. In part one Christine sets the stage for her encounter with recently-freed sex slaves and their challenging questions. -Adam Forrest

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” They asked…

“I don’t know,” I stammered at last. “I don’t know why I didn’t come sooner.” Such weak, small, light words for such a weighty question. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”

The silence became even more pronounced. Time seemed to have stopped. Nothing else mattered to me at that moment but these girls, their despair — and what healing God could bring to them. Though the silence seemed to last for an eternity, I felt so clearly present, so tuned into the now.

“I want you to know,” I said with new conviction, “that I have now heard your cries. I have seen you. I see you now.” I turned to Mary. “I see you, Mary…” I turned to Sonia. “I see you, Sonia.” I looked intently at each girl seated at the table. “I see each of you. I hear you. I know you by name. I have come for each of you.”

I wanted to see these girls as Jesus saw them — not as a sea of needs, but as individuals he had called by name and chosen one by one and loved. I heard his words before I spoke my own: Tell them I have their names written in my book. That I came to give the good news to the poor. To heal the brokenhearted. To set the captives free. Tell them these promises are for here. Now. As well as for eternity. [Psalm 69:28; 139:16; Isaiah 49:1; Revelation 3:5; 17:8; 20:12-15; Luke 4:18].

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When You’re Safe But Not Free

This is the true story of an intense encounter between former sex slaves and author Christine Caine. As Christine reveals in this excerpt from Undaunted: Daring to Do what God Calls You to Do, the sex slaves had just recently been freed by police — but were perhaps still less than free.

I was personally very moved by this story. I’m thankful that Christine shared it so that I could share it with you here. -Adam Forrest

“Why are you here? Why did you come?”

Though no longer in a physical prison, Mary remained silent, constantly tormented by recurring nightmares. The daily horror may have ceased, but the pain screamed nonstop.

Mary was safe but not yet free.

Stunned, I sat quietly for a moment after Mary finished her story. Around me, the young women at the table remained quiet too, almost reverent… Questions hammered at my broken heart: How could this possibly happen in our world today? No matter how much money is involved, how can anyone be so depraved as to make sex slaves of others — let alone make it an international operation, enslaving not just one girl but hundreds of thousands, again and again and again?

Sonia, a Russian girl who had arrived at the shelter the previous day, interrupted my flood of thought. “Why are you here?” she demanded, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why did you come?”

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