Bridget, Yuki, and I started our prayer time before we even got out of the car in the Katamachi and Korinbo areas of our city of Kanazawa this past Saturday night. It was a special time of praying for each other and praying for the evening ahead of us, and boy, were we going to need it.
It was very warm, with breezes wafting through the fuurin, the Japanese summer windchimes that many of the establishments are displaying out in front of their doors right now. The tinkling sounds of their bells are supposed to make the passersby feel cooler, to beat the heat of August in Japan.
All of these smiling photos of us were taken right at the beginning of our prayer walk. We were even feeling kind of festive. By the end of the night, we were shaken up and most definitely not feeling lighthearted. (Scroll down to the bottom of this post to read more.)
Yuki had her lovely summer yukata on (she had been to her neighborhood summer festival earlier in the day):
Strolling the streets, listening for the Spirit, we sang a few worship songs and prayed as we felt led. The huge ugly building that breaks our hearts the most is still advertising for renters, so we felt uplifted. We passed by some black-suited guys tempting other males to come in to their "InfoMen" shops, where guys can choose what kind of dodgy bar they'd like to go to by the photos of women displayed around the walls. As we walked by, I told those blokes that Jesus loves them. I don't know if they heard me, and it came out of my mouth in English, so they might not have understood anyway, but I really felt those words bubble up out of my spirit. One grandpa-aged guy came out of the shop wearing a broad-brimmed hat and sunglasses, at night, so I'm guessing he didn't want anyone knowing who he was.
We were later than usual, and as we came to a corner between a 7-11 and a McDonald's on the main busy road through the Katamachi entertainment/shopping/restaurant district, we noticed a weird scene: a woman in a long skirt and heeled shoes, with long hair, was kneeling down on the sidewalk. A large Japanese man loomed over her, and at first I couldn't tell if he was grabbing her arms or if she was grabbing on to him. The light changed for the pedestrians and we crossed to the other side of the main road, but we stopped on the other side to look back and see if we needed to go back and help.
And that's when he started dragging her down the sidewalk. She was holding on to a bag and he was pulling the bag and her along with it. She was screaming Yamete! Yamete! (stop it! stop it!) as he dragged her for about 70 or 80 meters from the 7-11 all the way down the sidewalk to the German Bakery. Other than her arms, she was fully stretched out on the sidewalk, with her legs, skirt, and heels scraping along on the concrete.
Hundreds of people gathered to watch, and I heard them commenting among themselves that it must just be a couple's argument. All of us gaped, and if my own emotions were anything to go by, we probably all felt shocked and wondered what to do. Two older men followed along behind the lady, tentatively leaning toward the couple, probably scared to step in but also not sure how to help either. Bridget and I were talking about what to do, and Yuki grabbed her phone. I asked if she was calling the police and she said yes. She bravely dialed and kept the police operator on the phone, giving them a description of the man and woman, what they were wearing, a description of the bag, exactly what was happening and where they were each step on this trail of violence. It didn't seem like anyone else was calling the police, and I was so proud of Yuki.
Then we heard the sirens, and as the two patrol cars came around the corner just up the road a block or two away, we pointed in the direction of the couple and the police came to a halt. As soon as they got closer, the guy dropped the bag and the woman, she stood up, wobbly, and the guy took his own phone and started videoing the woman as the police officers walked up.
Was he trying to intimidate her by videoing her? Was this a case of human trafficking?
We don't know. But we do know that God had directed us there to that exact moment to be a spiritual force of light and peace in a crazy situation. I was praying, and we prayed together as we walked back toward the car, feeling shaky but realizing that we might have been the only Jesus-people there.
Maybe we were a breath of a cooling Spirit-breeze in the heat of that anger and violence.
May there be healing. And freedom in Christ.
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