She sits in the darkness,
Soaked in blood, wet with tears,
Mourning once again of her innocence that was robbed.
Night after night, she sells herself, just for a piece of
bread.
The psychological manipulation she endures entraps her,
planting lies, keeping her there, stripping her of all dignity.
He stands over her, mocking, spitting, jeering.
He sells her body night after night for the big bucks.
As he strips her of her humanity, his heart in turn becomes
colder and colder.
His oppression of her takes him into deeper and deeper
darkness.
It’s ok, his friends say, this is how men are to treat women,
they are to dominate them – as his father had dominated him in his youth.
Another lonely night filled with darkness and pain.
He walks the streets looking for love, stumbling across a
brothel, he mistakes paying for sex as an act of love.
He tries to fill the void that is inside, cutting his
insides so deeply he can hardly breathe.
The more he tries to fill the void with porn, with drugs,
with mistaken emotions that are just a show played by the girls, the more
entangled he becomes in his pit of despair.
They are trapped in the abuse of their oppressors, in the
cycle of lies that plays on repeat in their minds, in the craving for power and
money, in the confusion that another’s love can be bought and can fill the
void.
It fills the whole earth, every nation, every culture
playing the same story over and over.
Injustice persists, threatening to expand and take out more
than the 27 million already sold.
Where is the hope?
Darkness.
Darkness.
Darkness.
He sees her walking down the street.
He sees him envying more and more cash.
He sees him lusting over her body.
His eyes fill with tears.
His heart is overcome with sorrow.
Where is an intercessor?
He hangs there on that instrument of torture,
Rejected by family, sold by friends, falsely accused, beaten.
He knows. He intimately relates.
He suffered the greatest injustice – the Perfect One died
the death of a criminal, for those on the street corner, for those trading in
the bodies for cash, for those looking for love in all the wrong places.
He faced injustice that they could be justified.
Who will go, that the Lamb who was slain would receive the reward of His suffering? That justice would come to the greatest injustice committed; that Jesus would receive every heart.
It is an injustice to withhold our heart from the Lamb who
suffered for it.
As we step into surrender, justice is brought to the
injustice of the cross.
For the times I have withheld myself from You,
For the times I have brought injustice by not surrendering,
For the times I did not step out in obedience and answer
Your call,
I lament.
I lament of not giving You the reward of Your suffering
sooner.
Still the call continues.
It grows louder and louder.
Who will go?
Who will go to my daughter who is injecting another dosage
up her arm, just to numb the pain?
Who will go to my son who lives in the big house who drives
the big car who earns the big bucks through his “business”?
Who will go to my son who is lonely, who sits in front of
the computer screen all day, wishing his life away?
They do not understand who they are.
Who will go tell them?
Who will go?
Who will go?
Here I am.
If you are looking for an intercessor, look no further.
I know the Intercessor, the Mighty One who stood in the gap
for me.
He beckons me to come with Him and do the same for others
who are in the brokenness of soul that I once was.
I lament with Him.
He breaks my heart for what breaks His.
He shows me the pain He experienced in that garden, the
Garden of Gethsemane.
He is sorrowful, because He longs for how it once was in the
garden, the Garden of Eden.
We lament.
Over those who are oppressed.
Over those who do not know who they are.
Over those who do not know they are loved by the Intercessor
who died to show them.
He laughs.
The kind of laugher that fills even the sorrowful with joy.
He sings a song of deliverance.
He dances upon injustice, breaking the chains that hold His
beloved ones down.
Lamenting turns to joy when justice is established.
He establishes His throne on righteousness and justice.
He shall reign.
He shall receive the reward of His suffering.
He shall reign.
He shall receive the reward of His suffering.
They will know who they are.
Freedom reigns as a cry for justice goes up as incense.
The bowls of incense pour out, and the Rescuer comes to
fight for His beloved.
This is most beautiful, moving, and powerful. Thank you for sharing. May the intercessors rise up!
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