Prayer for Words

Today I was to visit 15 of the girls from the juvenile detention center. However, today they were not in the prison but had gone to a temple to earn merit in order to have an early release.&n bsp; It took FOREVER to get out to the temple...I thought it was closer than it was and I had one of the prison guards in my car with me the entire way. The guard only speaks Thai and she looks a little dike like...the girls at the prison tease me and say that she has a crush on me. Anyway, I took the long, awkward drive and finally arrived at the temple to be surrounded by 15 of my closest girl friends in Thailand.
They were dressed from head to toe in white robes. They had lost weight from not eating much in a week. They took my hands and lead me into the temple where the prayers were taking place. Young girls all around on their hands and knees bowing up
and down towards a large golden Buddha placed in the front of the room. My girls with their tongue rings and tattoos stood out just a little and I couldn't help but smile. Chants were echoing all around in a language I couldn't decipher. An older monk also sat at the front of the room with her legs crossed, eyes closed and hands clasped in front of her. She was obviously the head of the chanting prayer.
Each girl quickly took her place on the floor leaving me in the back of the room. Occasionally, they would open one eye, look back at me and smile without breaking their prayer chant or posture. They prayed for a long time.=2 0 As they prayed...I prayed... I prayed over them. I am not a crier, but this was just such an emotional moment. I could not pull them away, I could not scream the name of Jesus....only whisper it. "Jesus, meet me here." As I cried quietly in the back of the room, they looked back in concern. I assured them with a nod, that I was ok.
Later, I told them that I cried because I was praying for each of them at that moment. They all thanked me for everything and asked if we could go eat pizza together. I told them, “Anytime you call me I will be there...and don't you forget it.” We hugged, pinky swore we wouldn't forget each other, punched fists together and said "swadee kha". (Good-by) They waved at me as I drove away until I could no longer see their blurry silhouettes. I must have prayed constantly, the entire time I was there. The power of prayer is stronger than the hold of Satan.

2Cor 10:4-54 The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish& nbsp;strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.

I had a few moments with the girls before they went back to praying.


The bruise on my face is from a motor bike accident...very small one.