Today’s guest post comes from Jessica Joy, a former porn star and sex industry worker who returned to Christ is now working furiously to put an end to pornography and it’s evil effects on our society.
“Pastor, Monday is coming.” I said.
Stuck in prostitution, but out of the Porn Industry, I made it to church every Sunday till close to The End. I Knelt in the back row, wearing either my go-to leather pants or my sun dress; I felt the freedom to cry behind the noise and the shiny happy people. No, I did not look like you but Denver’s judging eyes had nothing on the judgement I endured in Hollywood. I didn’t care about judging looks by the time my beat soul made it to Denver.
Across Denver, the brothel girls, “my girls”, attended Flat Irons Church, but I wanted to go to churches with old time alter calls. I didn’t want to go to Starbucks churches; I wanted to feel God not a pep rally. I did Hollywood and I was not impressed by shows. I wanted someone to pray for me and put their hand on my shoulder. I wanted someone to crouch to my level, look me in the eye and Tell me Monday did not have to come. I wanted a human contact not found in brothels but intimacy.
When I see memes about Monday on Facebook, I smile and think… they have no idea about My Mondays. The Denver Tech Center brothel ran Monday through Friday; 8am-6pm.. then 8 or 9pm. The brothel never stopped. The Sex Buyers kept coming. Since I got the girls addicted to money…not drugs.. they said, “let’s keep going.” I said that at the age of 23 too.
I didn’t want to stop because then I would… feel. But by 31? I was exhausted. I would take a week vacation once a year with my childhood friend, until she saw no shred of that childhood girl she once loved.
She was it. The last one who did not profit from my existence. In 2011, she could not take the zombie I became.
Lisa Musil, the host from last week’s conference just called. She told of a family that attended where the mother just found out the dad was raping the Daughters. They were prayed over, like I was years ago… I said Lisa, but their Monday is coming. They have to return home. Lisa’s heart is to write a devotional for those who must walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death; daily. Every shiny happy person you see in church, has a “Monday” they return to.
Every Sunday night, I would tactfully text my pastor knowing he could loose his job talking to the Denver Madame. I would lay on the floor of under the 22ft apartment ceiling that seemed to crush down on me every night. I listened to the last music I remembered from being a youth pastor, “Passion Radio” on Pandora. I would pray in the Spirit as I did not know how to form a prayer. (That will mess with theology!) For a few weeks, I would text him, ” Pastor, Monday is coming.”
There was 6 months of silence, where I tried to switch to NEW Age, and reciting “The Secret” by the living room water fall. I knew there was a God, maybe I was talking to the wrong one.
October 5, 2013, when I was facing 30 years in prison for human trafficking… I went on the run awaiting a bed to open in a human trafficking program. After sitting in a parking lot, realizing my 5,000 contacts made money off me or I made them money… I saw the House of Cards was about to fall. A whisper said, “Go find pastor.” Standing in the back of his church, I told him about my encounter at the Denver vice office and he confidently said, ” God will take care of this.”
Yeah Right. So within hours, I went on the run with “my girls” to the Texas oil fields.
But God pursued me.
My pastor called and called. He answered the phone when my brothel was running without me.
“Pastor, can you pick me up from the airport? Bring your deacons and close down my brothel? My Verizon network is showing me my phones are being answered in Denver. You may see sex, clients, and a lot of Sex toys. ” He was there and threw the guy out of my apartment.
“Grab the cell phones.. I think there are 5. ” I thought Pastor would be quick to leave, but he did not. He set order to the chaos.
Pastor was there when all my stuff was thrown away. “Yes! Throw away the towels, sheets, pillows, cups! The clients touched everything! Throw everything away!!!”
Pastor was there when my stuff went away, my car sold, my lease was taken over and the night before I drove to Kentucky to get into Refuge for Women.
Pastor Dan said that month changed him. He knew I was running, he knew I was seeing sex buyers till I got into a program… and he still blew up my phone while I ran. If I stopped? I would feel. I didn’t want to feel. While we were yet in sin, Christ died for us. He pursues us. The hounds of heaven, the crowd of witnesses, the prayers of the Saints… will not let you go. Surrender tonight.
Church? Love Does. Love gets messy. Love busts down brothel doors and cleans out trunks full of porn. Love Does. God needs you to start that recovery program, that bible study, that pursuit of the prodigal. Don’t STOP. God is calling YOU to get messy as someone’s Monday is coming.
This was originally posted on Jessica’s Facebook page in the early hours of May 5th, 2017. I decided it was entirely too important not to share it here.