In the winter of 2003, I went to visit a friend who had moved in with her boyfriend. We worked at the same strip club and had become close over the course of a few months. She told me she had grown up Muslim but that didn’t stop us from being cool with each other. She had recently been in the hospital and I went over to see if she was OK. I had visited this place about 3 or 4 times before. I went during the early evening, around 6pm.
She lived on a side of town where there was a lot of drug activity. There were always at least 4 random dudes just hanging out at his place and I wondered how she could feel comfortable living there with all those strange guys. Her boyfriend had just moved to Atlanta from Chicago and immediately started selling drugs out of his newly renovated duplex. I didn’t know he sold drugs and wasn’t sure if my friend knew but we found out for sure on this night.
We laughed, talked and smoked together. I got the urge to leave but I just assumed this grade of marijuana made me paranoid. We were in a back room and suddenly someone busted in and told us to get on the ground with a silver gun drawn. I immediately thought it was the police and they were busting the whole house in a raid. Maybe one of the guys had a warrant. Maybe the police had run up in the wrong house to lock up some suspects who had recently moved. I knew one thing was for sure, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I attempted to go into my pocket and throw the marijuana on the floor so I couldn’t get a possession charge. He immediately reprimanded me and told me to keep my hands up. My friend ran into the closet, screaming and tearing down the clothes attempting to hide. I was confused as he changed his mind and told us to come out of the room and come with him.
As he led us down the long hall, we saw the guys who hung out at the house being beaten and stripped all in different rooms. We walked passed a room that I’ve never been in. The door was always shut and locked. But as we walked by, I now understood why. There was large black trash bags full of marijuana and cash stacked to the ceiling. There were men in there bagging up everything quickly as the violent chaos happened all throughout other parts of the house.
When I looked forward, there was an unmasked young man, standing at the front door holding an AK-47. He was a puny young dude, almost like a teenager and the gun was almost bigger than he was. By the time, we got to the living room I realized this was not a raid but a robbery! Everyone was laying face down on the floor and the man who walked us down the hall forced us to lay face down next to her weeping boyfriend. He passed the time playing violent video games where he practiced shooting up intruders and cursing at the TV screen as he smoke blunt after blunt. Now, he and all his “tough guy” friends had been stripped, robbed and laid out on the floor scared of what would happen next.
As soon as I laid down, I began to pray and I felt a blanket or sheet gently cover me. I held my friend’s hand and the wrist of her sobbing boyfriend. I remembered that my friend didn’t believe in Jesus but still prayed for God to protect us. A man was standing over us with a gun pressed against my back, yelling at him to be quiet. I turned my head to him and sternly said, “Be quiet! “and he stopped wailing only sniffled from time to time. If her boyfriend made this guy mad enough to pull the trigger, the bullets would enter my body, not his. I started back praying and imagined myself going home. Something told me I would go home and my life would not end. The gun was no longer pressed into my back but I kept praying.
Some of the robbers had left the house to go upstairs to where his sister lived. He had recently sent for her and her new baby from Chicago. We heard footsteps overhead and then a gunshot. Again, my friend’s boyfriend became hysterical, bawling uncontrollably and writhing in pain for what he thought had happened. We heard the intruders run down the stairs and run to their car. I had left my purse in my car so I didn’t have my phone or anything on me.
Everyone got up and attempted to wrap their heads around what had just happened. My friend was in her boyfriend’s arm and they cried together. She later discovered that her purse had been ransacked and she was missing $600 cash, probably a whole night’s pay. I got home safely that night and thanked God for sparing my life. His sister and her baby was safe too! Thank God!
I knew there was a bigger plan for my life. A couple weeks later, when I celebrated my 21 birthday, I reflected on the fact that I almost didn’t make it and was so grateful to God that I made it out of the trap house. I have never been back to a traphouse and pray that anyone who is is covered, protected and will someday look to God to redirect them. Years later. I pray that God will give them another chance to tell the goodness of God. In Jesus’name name Amen! I found that friend on Facebook and saw that she posts scriptures on her page and thank God for the conversion.
If you or anyone you know needs prayer, wants to pray or learn how to pray, I can be reached via email at ScripturesForStrippers@gmail.com. Follow me on twitter, instagram and facebook @SayuriSmith. To get a copy of your very own devotional, you can get a copy from Amazon. There are two covers available but the inside is the same. https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/s/ref=is_s?k=scriptures+for+strippers
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