Harmony

“Some of the women you will encounter today have never been touched in a positive, loving way.” said Ruthie, the founder of Because Justice Matters.

“Many of them have been trafficked into the sex industry, they have been raped, beaten, and they have no self-worth. Today isn’t just about giving make-overs…it could be life-changing for them.”

It was a Saturday and I was sitting in the basement of YWAM San Francisco, getting trained on how to minister to the women of the Tenderloin District. Because Justice Matters (BJM) works to end injustice by taking a stand against modern-day slavery, domestic violence, discrimination against immigrants and economic inequality.

They reach out to women on the streets, in strip clubs and massage parlors. They share Christ with them and seek to show them that they are beautiful and have value in Christ. On this particular day, BJM was hosting a Spa Day.

“You will see all sorts of women today,” Ruthie continued, “Some are prostitutes, some are mentally ill or on drugs, and we have a transvestite population that frequently comes as well. If you see a transvestite, refer to them as a woman, because that is the way they want to be seen.”

As uncomfortable as I felt, I couldn’t wait for the day to begin. This was a brand new experience for me and I was about to have the opportunity to share Jesus with some of the most cast-out people in our society.

We made our way upstairs to get ready for the women to arrive. The room was beautifully decorated with colorful balloons, relaxing spa music, and a table overflowing with every imaginable kind of muffin. This day was all about making those sweet women feel special and pampered.

I was assigned to the facial/make-over team. As a girl who has trouble putting on her own makeup, I was a little worried when I realized I would have to put it on someone else! But thankfully, we had a cosmetologist who trained us in how to apply the four facial creams and then apply the makeup.

The doors opened and women of all shapes and sizes filed in. Some young, some old; some black, white or Hispanic. Some in great physical shape, others in wheel chairs. For a little while, I didn’t have anyone to give a makeover to, so I just watched as the women got pampered. I felt my eyes well up with tears as I realized that this was perhaps the first time these women had ever had a chance to go to a spa and feel beautiful.

My first “client” was a loud, curious woman named Karen*. She wanted to know the ingredients of every single cream I put on her face. I neglected to tell her that she was actually the first person I had ever given a facial to. When I asked her where she lived, her response was, “Oh, you know…here and there.”

That’s when I realized that most of these women hopped from shelter to shelter with no place to call home.

Karen and I had a great conversation, and her makeup actually ended up looking pretty good!  A little while after she left the doors opened again and in walked Harmony*.

Harmony was wearing black tights, tall black boots, a mini-skirt, a pink top, and had colorful hair extensions. But even from far away, I could tell that Harmony was most definitely a man. (But I will refer to her as a “her” throughout the rest of this story).

For some reason, I immediately knew that she was going to come to my chair. She walked back to the facial and makeup station. There were about 10 of us giving facials, and they told her she could choose where she wanted to sit. She slowly scanned the room until she finally pointed directly at me and said, “YOU.”

Gulp. “Okay, I can do this!” I thought to myself.

As I massaged the cream into her whiskery face, I asked Harmony about her life. She said that she had been living in San Francisco for a few months, and didn’t really have any friends here.

“No friends, just acquaintances,” she said in her deep voice. “You’re one of my best friends here now.”

I didn’t know what to say. I felt so guilty and ashamed of the way I had judged people like Harmony in the past. And here she was, telling me that I was one of her best friends.

I’ve seen plenty of transvestites since I’ve lived in San Francisco, but in the past, my reaction has generally been one of shock and disapproval. I am ashamed to say that I never really felt compassion on them before.

But that changed in the twenty minutes that I spent with Harmony. I realized that behind the makeup and the fake boobs, there is a hurting, lonely person who has never experienced God’s love.

How can I condemn her sin when Harmony doesn’t know the Savior?

I wish I could tell you that I led Harmony to the Lord and that her life was radically changed. I don’t know if those twenty minutes impacted her at all. But for me, it changed my perspective.

I feel like I got a glimpse of how Jesus views people. I was broken for her and wanted nothing more than to show her love in every way that I could- even if it was just by putting bright blue eye shadow on her sad eyes.

You see, people don’t come to know Jesus by Christians pointing our fingers at them and telling them all the things they shouldn’t do. While I may not approve of their lifestyle, I choose to see the sinner rather than the sin.

I think Jesus would have been right there with us, loving those women. In Scripture, we never see Jesus hatefully judging others. Instead, he goes to their homes, he eats with them, he touches them, and he shows that he truly cares about them before he addresses the sin.

I’m reminded of the story of the woman who was caught in adultery. The scribes and the Pharisees wanted to stone her. But Jesus stooped down and drew on the ground. Then he said, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.”

I imagine it got very silent as his words sunk in and they realized that this woman’s sins were no greater than their own. One by one, they walked away until only the woman was left.

Jesus then said, “I do not condemn you, go, and sin no more.”

Jesus did not approve of her sin, but he loved the woman. He loved her so much that he stood up for her in front of a crowd of religious leaders.

I think Jesus and Harmony would be good friends. They would probably go out for coffee, and one day, when she was ready, I think Harmony would choose to follow Him.

My hope is that we will choose to be the hands and feet of Jesus and reach out to people like Harmony with compassion, rather than condemnation.



*Names have been changed to protect the identity of these women