Call this hotline number...

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Call this hotline number...

I got a call on the After Hours hotline number and it was a young girl named “Charlotte” she said she needed help and she just got into Los Angeles and she met some friends on the track who said, “you should call After Hours, these girls are so nice, they come out here and give us hand warmers, hand sanitizer, hot coco, snacks, and they pray with us. They said if we need anything to give them a call.” So Charlotte decided to call because she was at her lowest of lows, she said she had no money, no housing, and she was hungry. I asked her if she wanted to get back home to her family because we can help her relocate. But she said she has no family, she grew up in the system, and she was in and out of different foster homes. She said her foster dad sexually abused her at 11 years old so she decided to runaway and never look back. As a runaway she was picked up by a trafficker who exploited her for the next 10 years. But by the grace of God she was no longer under her his control, but it was only a matter of time for her to be kidnapped by another trafficker who will exploit her again. So that’s why she decided to call our number.

We were able to pick her up right away and take her to a safe place out of Los Angeles where she could find safety, free housing, resources, and self-care for the next year while she goes through her recovery journey.

We are so thankful to our friends on the track who were able to share our number with anyone that is in need of help getting “out of the life.”

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Saturday Afternoon Shooting

Saturday Afternoon Shooting

We heard her crying down the street “Help! I’ve been shot!”

            It was the middle of the day. Our street outreach team had been doing a trial run volunteering on Saturday afternoons (because women are sexually exploited at all hours of the day). But this was unlike anything I had yet seen volunteering for After Hours Ministry in years. The victim, Brianna*, hobbles down the sidewalk—towards the main drag—and straight up to me and Jennifer Cecil (regular teammates). Sure enough, Brianna is bleeding from her leg. I’ve never seen a bullet wound in the flesh before. The entry wound was small, straight through into the thick part of her thigh muscle and bleeding (but not gushing). It looked like a clean shot; in and out. We quickly scan the area making sure we were safe and then ask “Would you like us to call 9-1-1?”

            “No. No… I got shot! I got shot!” The swells of her moaning indicated she was in a great deal of pain even though the damage didn’t look as bad as I thought it would from her screams down the block. We emphasize our ability to help get her medical attention, but she was hesitant.

            “Do you need a ride anywhere safe? Would you like to go home and figure it out from there?”

            “I got an uncle. I’ll walk to his place. It’s close by.”

            “Can we walk with you?”

            She winces as she nods in agreement. Aside from her shifted gate to deal with the pain, outreach resumed as almost normal; giving a small gift, striking up more conversation, and prayer. But something remarkable happened during prayer—the Lord gave us a word of knowledge for this woman. The meaning of her name was quite significant; it was as if the Lord wanted her to know her true identity in Him (and not in the tragic circumstances she was facing). We encouraged her that maybe this time was the right time to leave the game.

            We saw on the blade the week or two after that, and then didn’t see her again… for years. But eventually, she showed up on the streets just as she had before. More weathered. More jaded. I’m not sure what led to her time away—my hope is that she had left the game for an extended period of time and had a better life for herself for a season. But seeing Brianna back where Jennifer and I found her years prior made me reflect on the events I had witnessed in her life. I remembered that—on average—a prostitute leaves the game seven times before staying out for good. So it appeared that not even a bullet wound would hold Brianna back from turning tricks again. Being sexually exploited is physical, emotional, and psychological trauma that leads its victims back to abuse time and time again. But I’m grateful to be a part of After Hours Ministry; where we don’t judge, we love. And we continue to be a beacon of hope for women who are finally ready to get the help they need.

*Brianna’s name has been changed to protect her identity.

Written by: An After Hours Ministry Volunteer

Back On The Track

Back On The Track

Last night marked our first evening back on the track after about seven months of lockdown restrictions. As things in Los Angeles County slowly began to ease open, leaders at After Hours Ministry had to prayerfully discern what the best course of action was to have volunteers safely return to regular street outreach. So, with masks covering our faces, volunteers met outside to sign waivers, fill out a symptom checklist and enjoy some socially-distant fellowship with one another. After updating one another and hearing about the latest things happening with After Hours Ministry, our executive director led a meaningful devotional reflecting on being fearfully and wonderfully made by God. The team then dove into a time of prayer in order to further prepare our hearts for outreach.

We had enough volunteers to split into two teams (zone to zone); one team for each side of the blade. Our first team had a slower evening after discovering a number of eggs were splattered along the sidewalk. It appeared as though the people who vandalized the streets were purposely targeting the girls. This wouldn’t be the first time that sexually exploited women and After Hours Ministry volunteers had “egg experiences” on the street. And so, many of the women had been forced to move into team #2’s territory… past a candelight memorial for a recent shooting victim. This area is a tough place to live, but many consider it their home.

It was the busiest night some volunteers have seen; more foot traffic and more men were out than ever before (including johns, runners, pimps). John jams were forming on almost every side street (and even some spilled onto the main drag). “John jams” are traffic jams formed by lines of cars waiting to talk to talk sexually exploited women. Hopefully soon, After Hours Ministry can grow a more robust men’s outreach program (with hopes that ministering to men will help them stop sexually exploiting women). But with the lack of male volunteers, our ministry focuses a majority of our time of helping the women on the street.

With so much demand, there was great supply for “dates” last night (“dates” are when women “turn a trick,” aka perform a paid sex act). Interestingly, there’s also been a shift in racial diversity among the women being exploited on the track. In the past, about 90% of the exploited victims we would minister to have been Black women. But during this pandemic, there has a noticeable increase in White women on the street as well.

With new Covid-19 restrictions, outreach was a bit shorter than usual— teams stayed out for about an hour and a half (instead of 2-2.5 hours). And yet, we handed out the same (if not more) gift bags. Tonight, 44 women received a bag with hand-sanitizer, candy, a headband, and a business card with our After Hours Ministry hotline number. That means that 44 more women have access to resources from After Hours Ministry. While we’re encouraged so many received a thread of hope last night, it’s not the best of the news to have seen so many women exploited in a shorter period of time.

But a bittersweet highlight was running into Lee* who one of our volunteers had built a close friendship with a year ago. We confirmed her cell phone number and encouraged her to meet up for a free meal with us. Please pray for Lee as we try to help her find her identity in God and His design for her life.

Thank you to everyone for your prayers!

*Lee’s name has been changed to protect her identity.

The Housing Crisis

The Housing Crisis

Diamond* is a woman that we met several years ago on the track and have been in relationship with her ever since. On the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, I met Diamond outside of an organization that coordinates temporary housing. 

8:15am-- I arrived to advocate for her so that she could secure housing for her and her 7-month old son. The organization started intake at 9 a.m. and there was already a line of about twelve families before we got there. 

The first five families in line finished intake and went to an air-conditioned waiting room. While the staff continued the intake process with people in line, the rest of us were asked to wait outside (in order to comply with L.A. County Covid-19 parameters that restricted the number of people allowed indoors).  Everyone in line was especially anxious to get housing because this was their last chance before the three-day weekend. And we received discouraging news from someone in line that one of the largest shelters in L.A. had a Covid-19 outbreak and were not taking any new people this weekend. The pressure to find adequate housing was high. 

Within the hour, we realized we were in for the long-haul. We made a quick coffee run and returned to the line. Soon enough, a police officer rolled up in his patrol car. I could feel everyone in line tense up and diligently watch the officer park and get out of his vehicle. It’s no surprise that people of color in search of housing in Compton are weary and anxious around a uniformed officer. As he turned toward our group, one of the women in line yelled, “Oh, he’s cool! He’s a good one!” He walked over to us with a smile and asked if anyone needed groceries. He went back to the trunk and brought back several bags of groceries for the families in line.  

11am-- there was a high-speed chase in South LA. We listened to the cry of sirens as the driver sped away just a few blocks from our location. We watched the four helicopters above us. Three of us were watching live news coverage of the chase on our phones, each of us providing our own commentary on the situation at hand. The situation helped us bond with other people in line and distract us from the heaviness of waiting for an hour. 

12pm—By the time the temperature reached 90 degrees, there was no more shade for Diamond, me, and the other families waiting on the west-facing sidewalk. 

1:58 p.m.-- nearly 6 hours after we had arrived-- Diamond was called to come inside the air-conditioned building. She met with the staff member for less than 15 minutes, clearly explained her situation and why she needed housing that day. The staff member was very confused and almost skeptical of me as to why I was there; but once I explained I was a volunteer with a nonprofit organization that has been helping Diamond as her friend and advocate, he warmed up. But we wouldn’t find out if Diamond would have shelter yet.

2:55pm—The shelter called her again to tell her that they were able to get her 14 nights of hotel vouchers. But since it was almost 3 p.m., they were not sure if it would go through the system ready for tonight. Not only did Diamond not know definitely if she had a bed to sleep in that night, she also knew she was coming back two weeks later to do this all over again. 

Why am I telling this story?

This story represents part of the complex and frustrating reality of women who are trying to break free from a life of sexual exploitation and trafficking in Los Angeles. Nothing feels simple because nothing is simple. There are some incredible nonprofits out there, but they are stretched thin because the needs are so great and over-crowding is so common, not to mention the added complications Covid-19 has brought this year. 

And so, this is what we do as a ministry in this city. We walk alongside people in these complex systems and difficult situations. Our core values of radical hospitality and forming deep relationships compels us to meet people where they are at and help in any way we can. While I only advocated for Diamond for less than 15 minutes, the other six hours were spent laughing, sharing stories, swapping pictures, and eating food on a sidewalk together. Sometimes the work we do is slow. Sometimes it does not feel very “productive” or “successful”. For us, this is living into this faithful call from Jesus to love in the small acts – standing in line, giving out a gift bag during outreach, remembering her name after briefly meeting her the previous outreach, or listening to hopes and dreams. Mother Teresa said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” It is in these small things that we experience the love of Christ. 

Written by: Kali Spicer, Executive Director

Photo by: Eric Ward (Diamond not pictured)

[Editor’s Notes: 1) Had Diamond been turned away by this facility, she would’ve likely had to start the process over the next day and wait in line all over again without any guarantee of housing, and 2) Before Kali was Executive Director of After Hours Ministry, she was a regular volunteer on our Street Outreach and After Care teams. This is one of her After Care experiences.]

*Diamond’s name has been changed to protect her identity.

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Abundant Life in the Time of Covid-19

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"I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." John 10:10 

When I think about how we are to live as believers, I often think of these words that Jesus spoke. We were not created to simply survive, but to live life in all of its fullness. But how do we do that when life as we know it has shut down completely? Do the things that bring you life. It might be something really simple like eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream or having a dance party in your kitchen or taking a walk outside. What makes your heart beat? What reminds you that you are alive? For me, it's listening to 80's soft rock and dancing around my house while singing at the top of my lungs (Whitney's "I wanna dance with somebody" has taken on a whole new meaning), it's FaceTime with my nephew and girlfriends, it's the warmth of the sun on my back and the fresh air filling my lungs as I make sure my neighbor can see that my eyes are smiling back as I pass by.  

Friends, life is real weird right now, and honestly, just plain hard at times, but, we are alive. As we wade through the swampy muck that is life in the era of Covid-19, with all of its unknowns, inconveniences, and for many, devastating losses, let's continue to grab onto the things that bring us life. And, as always, we want to be givers of life as well, so let's ask ourselves how our words and actions might (or might not) bring life to others. What does your neighbor need to hear or receive to be reminded of the abundant life they were created for? What opportunities do we have to remind those around us that they are fully alive, even in this moment?  

—Jen, AHM President

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Don't Be So Hard on Yourself

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What am I doing to help with stress and anxiety during COVID-19? I am having patience and compassion for myself. I have seen so many posts encouraging us to “use” this time to be productive, to do something, to come up with a hobby or learn a new language or learn how to cook… you’ve seen the posts.

But this is just another sign of our culture refusing to slow down and settle into this new normal. We are a culture built on doing and seeing results. We work ourselves to death, we don’t take our vacations, we try to show our usefulness to a company by how much of our own selves and personal life we are willing to sacrifice.

If you want to learn a new language—good for you! But don't feel a false sense of guilt if you see someone doing something that you aren’t interested in attempting. That does not make you any more or less useful and significant.

This was never how it was meant to be. We were meant to work and toil, yes, but not to the detriment of all other parts of our lives. 

Think of this time as an extended Sabbath. 

Somehow we as a society have equated being overworked and having no boundaries as being successful and dedicated. We are slowly killing ourselves with our work ethic.

And to make matters even worse, we think those that have healthy boundaries are doing something wrong. After Hours makes it mandatory that all our volunteers and employees take one weekend a month off and one month a year—so we are sure that we are getting the rest and rejuvenation that we need. When the president of AH took her first month of sabbatical off, it was amazing the number of people that privately asked us if she was being disciplined or was having trouble and that was why she was stepping away from ministry for a month.

How did we get to this place where rest is seen as weakness? How is it that we feel if we take time away we are signifying LESS of a commitment to something than if we were to come back at it rested and with a new perspective?

Jesus often led by example in this area—when ministry was really heating up, just when the disciples were seeing results, Christ would say, stop—rest. Mark 6:30-31: “The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”

How counter-intuitive! NOW seems like the time to keep pressing on. The people were hungry for the message. Whatever they were doing was working! They were in a rhythm! But Jesus called for rest knowing that our worth is not in what we do, but in who we are—and who we are cannot be strengthened when we never stop to feed, reflect, and nourish our souls.

And I love the picture of Luke 23 of the women who had come to the tomb to wrap Christ’s body and prepare it for burial. Christ, their leader, their beloved had just DIED. Don’t you think they would drop everything to see that he was properly taken care of and buried? Verses 55-56 say: “The women who had come with Jesus from Galilee followed Joseph and saw the tomb and how his body was laid in it. Then they went home and prepared spices and perfumes. But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment.

Not even the burial of our Lord and Savior was enough of a reason to get these women to break the Sabbath commandment. Surely a client or project isn’t one either.

Kurt Fredrickson says: “[A Sabbath] lifestyle is confession and declaration that we are not necessary. It is hard to admit, but we are dispensable. We are worthwhile and we do good work. We are loved and cherished, but we are not necessary. The work will go on without me. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 3, I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. We need a more sobered attitude about our work and ourselves. Too much of what we do is wrapped up in us proving to ourselves, and others and God how valuable and necessary we are. Sabbath living declares my worth is not in what I do.

So, what about you? What are the things that keep you from investing in Sabbath or thinking you have to achieve more during this time to be considered significant? What do you fear you’ll miss out on or lose if you take the time to break away and draw good boundaries? What boundaries have you been ignoring that you need in this chaotic time?

-Julia, Executive Director

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Peace in the Quarantine

Hi y’all!  It’s Roxy, another part of the AHM staff. I’m over community partnerships and love meeting with our partners throughout the Los Angeles area!

Hope y’all are blessing yourselves and filling your home with goodness in this time. It’s hard. It’s easy to binge watch Netflix and it can be hard to open ya Bible or do whatever you need to keep yourself in high spirits. For me some days have been great and others not so much.

Over and over again I have heard the story of Mark 4:35-41 told in a variety of perspectives during quarantine. In verse 35 Jesus says, “Let’s cross over to the other side of the sea.” Then Jesus and His disciples hopped in a boat and started heading that way but a storm arose. Verses 38-40 say, “But He was in the stern, sleeping on the cushion. So they woke Him up and said to Him, “Teacher! Don’t You care that we’re going to die? He got up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Silence! Be still!” The wind ceased, and there was a great calm. Then He said to them, “Why are you fearful? Do you still have no faith?”

We gotta trust God that even in the storm we’re gunna get to the other side. Being anxious and feeling all the emotions during this time is human and normal. With God we have the ability to find peace in this storm. Somehow in surrender I believe we have the ability to lay down on a pillow besides Jesus and find rest in the stern of the ship.

I’ve been doing all kinds of self care activities during quarantine so if you need some ideas I got you! Here’s what I’ve been up to:

  1. BAKING BREAD. You know quarantine is real when you find me in the kitchen. Ok but seriously I don’t ever want to buy a loaf from the store again. Recipe: https://leitesculinaria.com/99521/recipes-jim-laheys-no-knead-bread.ht

  2. Dalgona coffee. For all my coffee lovers this is the new wave of trendy coffee to try. Ya it takes like 20 minutes to whip up but we got time now right? Here’s a how to video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hixQ_-VtElM 

  3. Connecting. I’ve been using Houseparty to play games with friends every week. It’s an app where you can facetime & play a game at the same time: https://houseparty.com 

  4. Podcasts. My mind goes wild if I don’t fill it with good news. So I listen to uplifting podcasts during the day to help guide my mind to dwell on good things. My fav is Thirty minutes with The Perrys: https://theperryspodcast.libsyn.com

Much love to y’all! Please send in prayer requests if you have any and our team will cover you.

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Fight the Blah

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👋 Hey, it’s Samantha, the lady behind After Hours’ social media. I fully intended to share some of my self-care activities with a more upbeat, encouraging tone, but I wanna be real with y’all: I’m feeling pretty blah this week, maybe a little depressed. Anyone else feeling that way? Is it a week 4 of quarantine thing? (As if anyone knows!) I don’t want to get stuck in my feelings—I just don’t want to seem like I have it all together cuz I really don’t. But I feel I should use this to speak truth over myself, and anyone else who needs it.

There is hope in Christ, even in this seemingly unprecedented time. Jesus was sent to bring good news to the poor, comfort the brokenhearted and those who mourn, proclaim freedom to the captives, heal the sick, bring beauty from ashes, and he did. (Isaiah 61; Luke 4:18-19.) He is trustworthy and safe. He is the calm in this storm. He is life, freedom, and salvation. Even though I feel anxious a lot, I am hopeful because God remains constant. When everything around me is literal chaos, I trust him to be stable and secure, to be God. Keeping my focus on the Lord and trusting in his fulfilled promises gives me a comfort and peace that can only come from him. And weirdly, I feel blessed to experience a new depth to my faith in God.

So with that, these are some things that are giving me life, making me laugh, and keeping me lighthearted right now:

  1. I’ve been spending my Monday afternoons listening to and singing along with my favorite bands, and it feels like I’m hearing them for the first time again.

  2. My amaryllis, pictured above, really leaned into spring and surprised me with two beautiful blooms this week.

  3. My roommate and I are having a great time with this season of the Masked Singer and Lego Masters.

  4. Yoga with Adriene has been bringing me back to earth and helping me fight lethargy. Check our her videos on YouTube.

  5. I’ve been watching episodes of Hot Ones on YouTube like a boss and now have a serious craving for chicken wings and would love to test the limits of my spice tolerance.

How are you doing/feeling this week? What are some things that are helping you fight the blah and bringing you joy during this time? Your After Hours fam is here for you ❤️🌺

#untilthelastlockbreaks

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A Gathering of Fierce Women

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I’ve needed more time to process last week’s outreach because it was unlike any outreach I’ve experienced before. I felt God’s presence on the track so strongly, I know I caught a glimpse of his healing work in South LA. I want to start by giving praise to God because he’s the reason After Hours exists. He keeps our small organization going. He provides what we need so we can show up and love the women we meet through outreach every week. He gives each of us the strength we need to carry this unique burden. But he also asks us to carry it loosely, trusting that he is working, even if we never see how the seeds we plant will bloom. It’s hard, but I’m grateful that God is the one in control and not us.

Last outreach was so beautiful and such a contrast to the week prior. I showed up expecting it wouldn’t be any different from the others recently, but God had other plans. We were just three, but we gave away 27 gift bags—more than double the amount we gave the week before. We experienced so many obstacles to meet with women that week. During our prayer time, I prayed for a friend who’s been on my mind, hoping to run into her; but admittedly, I already felt defeated. I’ve experienced friends disappear before, and I thought this may have happened with her because we hadn’t seen her the week before.

God is faithful still.

We arrived at the block where she normally is, but we didn’t see her from the car. There were other women out, so we parked and walked over to them. As soon as we got to the corner, she popped out! We were all so excited to see each other. We told her we were hoping and praying we’d see her.

Amidst the many cars driving by and pulling up to us, we talked for a long time. One-by-one, her friends joined us until there was a gathering of us women, each with her own unique story of hardship, yet perseverance. At some point, I noticed the cars weren’t coming anymore, and we were able to be a gathering of fierce women standing together, laughing together, praying together, and embracing each other. I wish I could have seen what passersby saw. We were crossing all the divides to be friends, to be community. 

I drove home full of joy and hope, not at all tired even though it was 2:30am. This is what After Hours is about, loving God and loving our neighbors on the track, creating a safe space for these women to be themselves free of judgment and shame. If any of the women we meet during outreach comes across this, never give up hope, keep fighting, because God loves you dearly, and so do we. —Sam

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Light & Dark Collide

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The start of our Friday night was full of praise. Two worship leaders brought their voices & guitar and led our outreach team in worship. It was a good kick off fixating our hearts & minds on God. I was reminded that the ability to make a change in this ministry can only come from the Lord & never from my power alone.

Outreach is my fav. I love the convos I get to have with the women. It is something I always look forward to, but last Friday felt darker than it ever has. Though even amongst that we got to talk with a woman wanting something else for her and her kid. I pray she will hit us up and, even though she has been through more than I can imagine, that God would fill her with more hope for the future. —Roxy

This week, please pray with us for the woman we met last outreach and for her child. Pray God will bring peace to the track.

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A Night of Peace

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A Night of Peace

The track was peaceful last Friday—a nice break from the overwhelming chaos it usually is out there. I didn’t feel on edge like I have out there for the last last couple of months. When we were close to running out bags for the night, I asked if we could drive to a specific part of the track. I was hoping we’d find a couple friends we’ve seen consistently for a few months; and sure enough, they were both there. I was thankful to have another opportunity to keep building the friendships we have with both of them, to notice a cute change to *T’s hair and to talk with *A for some time, learning more about herself and her future plans.  

Nights like this one aren’t all that common—at least, not lately—but they always seem to fill me with the hope and encouragement I need to keep coming out. If you haven’t notice yet, this ministry is heavy. But when God covers the night in his peace, we’re able to have deeper conversations and longer times of prayer with the women working. Some women are able to feel safe to be vulnerable with us about details of their lives that weigh heavy on them. It is an honor to be entrusted with such personal pieces of their lives, one I don’t take lightly.

Pray with us that God would provide more nights like this one and more opportunities to get to know our two friends, *T and *A. —Sam

P.s. if you prayed we’d be spared from the rain, thank you! It didn’t start raining until a few minutes after we’d finished for the night.

*Pseudonyms for security purposes.

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Insults, Slurs & Curses

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Insults, Slurs & Curses

Photo by Bryan Minear on Unsplash

There are nights out on the track that are incredibly difficult, the most intimate encounters with darkness, suffering, and pain. This weekend was one of those weekends— when the reality of the work we do and the violence these women face on a daily basis confronted us head on. This is not a typical scenario we face; and we’re thankful for that. Unfortunately, this real-life scenario is a constant reality for the women we minister to. One of our team leaders wrote this post in order to process the weekend’s events. Please pray with us for K.

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Cameron, who’s sitting in the backseat of my car, sees her on the right side of the road. She’s curled in a ball. A man—an athletic 6’2”—hovers over her, screaming. His arms are spread wide, like they had hit her or were ready to. I was in the left lane. It was too late to pull over, but not too late to flip a u-turn. When I do, it’s still hard for me to see between the sporadically parked cars and the night sky.

            “There she is—she’s still there,” Cameron says. Sam confirms.

            “Get your phone ready to call 9-1-1,” I tell him.

The man with the long arms stands up and huffs back to his PT Cruiser and drives away. We’re across the busy road, but we have to make sure she’s okay. As we reach her, a man on bicycle and another girl who’s working the track that night (“F”), stop too. Our conversations with them are brief. I approach the woman who sits with her knees up against her chest, huddled against a chain link fence. Her face is sopping wet with tears.

            “I’m with After Hours Ministry,” I say. “Would you like a gift?” She accepts it.

I bend down and ask what’s happened and if she needs prayer for anything. The young woman explains through tears that she’s in love with old boyfriend from high school. It was a mistake to get back with him. He hits her. He hits her. He’s almost killed her a couple of times. When I ask her if she needs a ride somewhere, she says she’s waiting for her mom.

            “Would you like us to wait with you?” I ask. She nods.

We wait patiently, standing guard. From behind me, I hear Cameron tell me the PT Cruiser has returned. I don’t know if he has a gun, a knife, or just his violent arms, but I turn my back and ask the woman, “Would you like a ride somewhere safer? We can drop you off somewhere your boyfriend won’t know. Your mom can pick you up from there.”

“Yes,” but when she stands to follow, the man with the long arms hauls across the street. He’s screaming without room to breathe. He weaves through Cameron, Sam and myself… straight to her. She steps up on a stoop, pressing against the gate to a stranger’s yard. She’s cornered like a dog. He’s hurling insults, slurs and curses. She’s musters up the strength to say if he hurts her again, she’ll press charges. When he defends himself, she gives details like “you tried to shove a cigarette down my throat,” and “you tried to kidnap me.” 

When the man with long arms continues to threaten her and says that she doesn’t care for him anymore, I gently correct him—“She cares for you. She told me. We were just praying for you.” Which was true. He takes a couple of steps back from her, still yelling, but at least there is more space.

It’s just past 2am. Cameron stands yards away. He’s on the phone with 9-1-1, but now it’s faster to waive down a squad car. By the time they pull over, the man with the long arms is back in the driver’s seat of his PT Cruiser.

Cameron, Sam, and I watch as LAPD calmly ask the woman questions, like:

             “Did he hit you?”

She denies it. She loves him. It’s toxic, but it is what it is. The police recommend she gets a restraining order against him, but she doesn’t know how. We do. We introduce ourselves to the police and tell this young woman that we can connect her to the resources she needs, like Christian Legal Aid or other non-profits that can help with legal counsel. She dials our hotline number so we can keep in touch.

Since the police are willing to stay with her, our team is just about to pack up… when her uncle shows up. We don’t know if he’s really her uncle, or another boyfriend, or another pimp. But he’s 6’4” and was the size of linebacker. His eyes are gentle. He graciously shakes our hands as a thank you. His palms are sweaty though.

I’m not sure if my legs and hands are shaking from the cold or adrenaline, but I tell K it must be the cold. I don’t want her to be anymore scared than she already is.

I’m happy to get back in the car. I’m happier we were there for the woman (“K”) when her crazy boyfriend returned. God knows, something worse could’ve happened if we weren’t.

Behind locked car doors, we pray for K again. We want her to go somewhere safe. Wherever she is, we’ll be in touch with her tomorrow. We want to help. We want her to be free.

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Upcoming February Training

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If you are interested in learning more about reaching out to men and women involved in prostitution in Los Angeles or possibly coming out with us on outreach – join us for one of our training classes!

Our next class is Saturday, February 10th at Los Angeles Christian School (1620 W 20th Street), 2:00pm-4:00pm. 

Comment here with any questions or join us in February (No need to RSVP – just show up!) Looking forward to seeing you.

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What We Want You to Know

I often have conversations with women who are skeptical of After Hours Ministry, simply because we are a Christian organization. Most of these women have been abused and mis-treated by the church and Christians. So many who have GREAT intentions, but without fully understanding the psychological and psychosocial implications of having been in the game for so long, they make harsh and rash comments and assumptions about these precious women and “if they would only try harder” and “how could they possibly be in love with a man that treats them that way!” – they are comments that are meant in love, but come across very condescending and judgmental.  When we make assumptions about someone else’s situation (thinking we know what they need, how they need it, or even that we fully understand their situation) we make them victims all over again and do not empower them to live their own story. We come across as someone only wanting relationship when they do things “our” way.

A few of these amazing women took the time to share with us a few things they wish people knew. Specifically, people who have a heart for the sexually exploited. If you have a heart to help women who are sexually exploited, and don’t want to do more harm than good, read this! It’ll help.

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We want people to know how thankful we are for their willingness to help.  We want them to know we are painfully aware we come with major trust issues! We are painfully aware we at times misunderstand what you are trying to say and how you are trying to help us.  To us, at times, it may come across as you being over-bearing, taking control, or making us your new project for the year.  We know we're blunt and most times come across uncaring, unresponsive, and extremely cold-hearted.  But nothing could be further from the truth!  

We listen to everything you say.  If you have been one of the few we let in our lives and you have been consistent with us... we listen and rethink through what you say.  We do not just disregard your input in our lives. But there are some things we want you to know. "We" are NOT speaking on behalf of all woman an men in the sex worker community.  Some choose what we do.  I will let someone else tackle that subject.   We are speaking for us.  There are 7 of us sitting here pouring our hearts out in hopes that if you work with sex workers, become friends with them and let them in your lives or if you’re going to work with us in the future, we want to help you understand some things about us.

First, most of us are not looking for “Captain Save-A-Ho” to save us.  For a few of us here, we never even thought we needed help or saving.  So the whole “let’s get them out!” “Let’s rescue them!” is not realistic.  If we come to a point where we decide we want and need to get out of the life, we don't need rescue.  Some of us sitting here have been "rescued" many times over only to have little to no support shortly after. Even when we go into the so called “Christian” safe houses/programs for help. Our experiences were not good.  We needed more than forced Bible reading and chores.  We needed life skills beyond GED.  Some of us, most of us, need help learning how to live in a square world. Learning how to keep regular job hours and complete basic skills like banking, writing checks, etc. Some of us do not even know how to manage money. If our pimps/daddy's kept all our money and bought our food, clothes etc., then we were never able to go through the process of growing up and learning life skills that you never probably even thought about. 

Speaking for two of us here, going to the doctor is traumatic in itsself.  We always had our daddy take us or he would have one of the P-partners (runners) take us. They do all the talking!  They make us look crazy.  We are so nervous we will say the wrong thing and be disciplined when we get home that we just watch silently and rely on our daddy to give us ques when to talk and when to be quiet.  They take over the appointment from the start.  Most times we do not even go to the ER or Doctor for things you would rush to the doctor for.  They also take us to many different hospitals in different counties under different names.   If we get away from our daddy it can take years of going to the doctor to take care of our health. And most of the time our daddy's take all our government ID’s. So that’s another issue we have to deal with. We need a support system where if WE choose to go to ER or doctor we have someone who can drive us and go in with us IF that is what we choose.  But if we don't we ask you to please be patient with us. We're trying.  We are scared and feel helpless most of the time. At times it's easier to go back into The Game because we feel like they know us so well and we can't do life without their help.

If you become a part of our life and we start confiding in you, asking questions about God, please do not take it personal that we might be angry at him. It just pushes us away.  Also, if you do answer questions please don't go into how we are being used and manipulated and how we need to be rescued from our horrible life.  Or bring it up in other conversations.  Some of us still love our daddy and it just makes us want to defend him.  It shuts down any future dialog we may have. Even if we at times realize we need help or may be coming to realize some things are not what we thought, this is extremely hurtful and painful to us. We just need your support in just being there.  And if and when we need to talk about some of this, please remember you may have seen and observed things all along that is all new to us. You don't have to have all the answers.  Just be honest when we ask you things.  We don't need you to fix us. 

And if you make a mistake like we all do and accidentally hurt us our we get mad at each other.  If you know your in the wrong. Say you’re sorry.  We are so tired of well-meaning people who are there for us out of true love in their hearts not saying sorry. Just brushing over it like it’s no big deal.  We know we misunderstand things. Some of us (well most of us here tonight!) are hot heads ready to fight!  But I can tell you this, if we hurt you on accident, or god forbid on purpose, we will say sorry and do what it takes to change our behavior. It feels sometimes like the people who help us the most feel like they do so much for us that it’s okay not to take responsibility for their actions. It’s as if they think they don’t need to because of all they do. It's not okay.  And please stop blaming our trust issues or other issues we may have from on-going mental, physical and sexual abuse on the break-down of the relationship. We know this is a factor in things but it's not always just us.  You may have things you need to work on too.  (and that's okay). When you don't take responsibility for what you do and brush us off or don’t say sorry. Or blame it all on our issues, it’s just like our daddies do! You end up doing to us the same damn thing as our pimps!

We need you to know that we have tried. And some of us here tonight are still trying and a few of us have given up and decided to go back to the life.  If you really love us and care as some have told us.  Just please don't take it personal as if it’s a failure on your part. We remember everything some of you have done and are doing for us. And it does not mean our minds may not change in future.  I wish I could tell you why we do what we do. Why we go back or why we still love and defend these men. We can't.. we don’t even get it.  It's a whole other level of pain we can't even put into words.

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Don't Leave Her Alone

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Most outreach nights, I have great interactions with women, and then find it a privilege to pray for them on my drive home and throughout the week. But this weekend my interaction with one woman, D*, really stuck with me. D* is expecting a baby girl in March, and although she is not the first pregnant woman I have ever met out on the track, something about her was different and special to me.

When we first approached her, there was a car with two men parked nearby who kept trying to get her attention. She seemed uninterested so we continued to approach her. As we got closer we could hear they were trying to talk with her, but she continued to ignore them. We gave her a gift bag and chatted with her for a bit and then asked her if she wanted prayer. She said she wanted prayer for her and her baby. As we began praying for her I got this strong feeling that we should not leave her alone. This is something I’ve never felt out on outreach before.

After chatting just a little bit longer, we started walking away and I noticed that the men were still parked near her. I told Amanda the feeling I had gotten during prayer and we turned around to go back and stand with D*. We wanted to offer to just be with her a bit longer, check with our team leader if she needed a ride somewhere or a bus ticket. I wanted to be sure we could safely get her away from those men in that car that would not leave her alone. Just a couple minutes after going back to stand with her the men left and she said a friend had called an Uber to come and pick her up. She felt safe.

As I walked away from her, her name and face and our conversation continued to lay heavy on my heart. I continue this week to prayerfully hope she reaches out to us and that she feels the overwhelming love of the Lord has for her. Will you pray with us for D*?

-Karen

 

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Just Be Held

There's a song that always gets me, the chorus says, "stop holding on and just be held." I feel like I'm always trying to hold on, to figure it out, to be ok, to be enough and yet Jesus tells us to come and rest. To let go, to quit striving, to allow him to hold us, heal us and restore us. 

We met Jo* three weeks ago. She smiled and graciously accepted a gift bag, she held her head up high and walked with confidence. Then I asked her how she was doing. She crumbled in my arms and began to tell me of the unfathomable losses she had incurred in the last few weeks. She was in so much pain and yet was holding it all together. But now, she had a safe place to fall apart, to just be held, so she let go. She let go of pride, of fear, of shame, and through a waterfall of tears, shared her story with us. 

She was several months pregnant with twins, a boy and a girl, that is until last week. Last week he beat her up. The violence her body experienced after that perhaps even worse than the initial beating. She lost her babies in a horrifying sequence of events that night, she was even able to see them as they left her body all too soon. Fingers, and toes, and eyes that would never look upon their loving mother. 

Her babies were gone and she was back on the street just days later. I guess I'm thankful that she was there, we never would have met her otherwise. She wept in my arms that night and the next day and again three days later. In the meantime, we named the twins and began to plan a memorial service. 

This weekend we gathered with her family to grieve the loss with her. We planted flowers ,"Dianthus" whose name means "heavenly flower," one for each twin. We talked about how Jesus wept and how that act in itself was a gift to us, because there is a time to mourn and Jesus mourns with us. How Jesus shows us compassion and identifies with us in our suffering and Jesus offers us hope of a life restored now and into eternity. We prayed for God to heal Jo's heart and talked about how God has so much he wants to give her, how he wants to heal her and set her free. 

I hope that Jo will take those steps toward healing and freedom, but for now, I'm so thankful she let go and let us hold her. I'm so grateful that Jesus offers us a place of rest, to come just as we are and lay it all down, and just be held. 

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28

*Name and details changed to protect the identity of our friend

She Knew

It was the first time I had ever seen C on the blade, with her wide eyes and two cheap braids she said she wore to deceive her customers into thinking she closer to twenty instead of forty. I couldn’t blame her—like is hard on the track. From a distance down the other side of the block-

She knew: we were coming for her. We, the “church people,” were ready to give gifts and pray.

She knew: God was revealing options for her.

She knew: All this, drunk on a bottle or so of Tequila, which still graced the scent of her breath.

She knew: It was wrong.

But I was grateful for those wide eyes and cheap braids to come straight towards us and wait until we met her in the middle of the sidewalk. And that’s when C starting preaching to us. I mean, this woman knows her scriptures inside and out. Over the next hour, she shared about her family, the death of mom and the money she still owed a guy a couple blocks down. I couldn’t really get a word in edgewise, but it didn’t seem to matter. What she really needed was someone to listen to her important stories and understand. I was happy to meet C that night. And elated she decided to go right on home.

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April Training

If you are interested in learning more about reaching out to men and women involved in prostitution in Los Angeles or possibly coming out with us on outreach – join us for one of our training classes!

Our next class is Saturday, April 23rd at Los Angeles Christian School (1620 W 20th Street)

Class begins at 3:00p. There will be a chance for those who are interested to join us for a short drive down the track afterward to get a glimpse at what we do on a weekly basis (**You must be over 21 to join us on the track).

Comment here with any questions or join us in April (No need to RSVP – just show up!) Looking forward to seeing you.

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The Audacity to Dream

E was one of the first girls I met out on the track, and her face is ingrained in my memory. E had been so genuine and open with us, sharing about being in the game for the past two years. She had no form of income and the government was continually lessening her welfare benefits. She and her sister took turns babysitting her two-year-old and her sister’s one-year-old while the other was out working on the track, night after night.

But E is my age.

E has to care for herself and her son. E has to worry about having enough money for them to survive. E had wanted to be a secretary, but now those dreams were distant.

And there I stood, two feet from her, yet in an alternate reality.

I am her age, but I do not have to raise a child. I do not live in fear of next month’s electricity bill. I have aspirations and am able to actively work towards them. I have the audacity to dream.

I want so badly for E to be able to dream again. I want so badly for E to work towards her aspirations. I still think of her often and pray for God’s hand to work good in her life. I have not seen her since. I do not know where she is or how she is doing. But I ask God to give her a flickering hope for a brighter day.

“Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning”. –Job 11:17

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Ways to Get Involved

  1. LEARN. Start doing research to learn more of the reality of prostitution as trafficking and modern day slavery that exists in your own city and around the world. Read books, see films, hold discussions and talk about it afterwards.
  2. SHARE. Tell other people about After Hours Ministry and the men and women we are reaching out to. You can link to our Facebook Fan PageFacebook Cause PageTwitter, or this website! And be sure to come back here to check up on us and how our outreaches are going.
  3. NETWORK. Connect with other advocates in your area and with organizations that are also addressing this issue. Don’t start from scratch when you don’t have to! Together, we can make a change.
  4. PRAY. Join our network of prayer partners from around the world. We cannot do what we are doing without your prayer support sustaining us. And be sure to let us KNOW you are praying for us!
  5. INVEST. Make a one-time contribution or become a monthly partner with After Hours to support the relationships we are seeking to build on the streets of LA.
  6. CONSCIOUS. Be a conscious consumer. Hold businesses accountable and ask corporations to join the fight against human trafficking. Keep an eye out and don’t look away! If you are suspicious of slavery of exploitation, call the national trafficking hotline: 888.3737.888. Find out what to look for HERE.
  7. VOLUNTEER. Come to a training and then come out with us on an outreach. Or let us know in what other areas you are gifted – we are always in need of help in other areas like administration, marketing, graphics, etc. If you aren’t in the area, volunteer with a local anti-trafficking organization. They need your help!
  8. COLLECT. Gather brand-new cosmetics, jewelry, travel size lotion, mouthwash, hand sanitizer, baby wipes, kleenex, nail polish, lip gloss, candy and hair bands to donate to the After Hours gift bags used for outreach.
  9. INVITE. Invite a member of our After Hours staff to speak at your church or organization.
  10. MAKE HELP AVAILABLE. Place coasters at bars and sleeves for coffee cups to promote the national trafficking hotline 888.3737.888. In public places, disseminate posters, brochures and other materials about trafficking. Download them from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.
  11. CYBERVENTION. Make sure trafficking does not happen on the internet. Keep an eye on Craigslist, Backpage and advertising spaces. Report and suspicious ads.
  12. CARE. Volunteer at a local shelter for survivors. Help survivors access medical care and counseling, legal services, housing, a new job and companionship. Do a drive for supplies and donations to care for victims of slavery. Sometimes the rescue part is sexy, but we need to be in it for the long haul.
  13. DO WHAT YOU LOVE. Use your talents to fight slavery. Do an art project and display it in a public place. Use a sports event to raise awareness and funds for the issue. Talk about the issue at a concert, or make it a benefit for survivors. Film a movie on the state of modern-day slavery. Write about the issue and post it on blogs. Hold a huge yard or bake sale to raise funds. Make your cleaning or yard work services available for a day to raise money. Do a car wash.

This list adapted from Call and Response.

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