Christine Caine: ‘I should have been a statistic’

Fiona Stewart (FS): Can you tell us about your childhood?

Christine Caine (CC): I grew up in Sydney, Australia. I was born in 1966 and growing up as Greek immigrants we were very marginalised. There was a lot of racism back then [towards] Greeks and Italians in particular. To be Greek is to be orthodox; whether you truly are a real follower of Jesus or not is sort of secondary, because you are just born into the Orthodox Church. 

I definitely grew up with a God consciousness, but I thought God was this big old guy with a beard in the sky just waiting for me to do something wrong, which I have to admit was probably very frequently. 

I remember hoping there was a God and that he saw me. My immediate family were very good to me, but there was extended family and people that my parents allowed to come into our home who proved very untrustworthy. Four men in particular abused me for many, many years. So, I had all of the shame and the pain and the trauma associated with it. I don’t actually have a recollection of a childhood without abuse. And this was in the 1960s and 70s. Nobody talked about it. So, I didn’t even have language or a paradigm for what was happening, but certainly my body and my soul carried the trauma, the shame, the guilt, the condemnation and the anger. 

FS: Was any of it ever spoken about?

CC: No, never. I first said something to my mother maybe in the 1980s. I wasn’t believed. Somehow you learn to survive. To add to all that, I think about two weeks before my 33rd birthday, I got a phone call from my brother, George. He said: “I just received a letter from the government, and it says that I’ve been adopted.” I thought he was joking at first; I started laughing, then I suddenly got defensive. I said: “Of course that’s not true. Call them and tell them they’ve sent it to the wrong person.” He called me back a few minutes later; sobbing, and said: “Christine, they told me the name of my biological mother and father. They told me when I was immunised, they had a whole file on my life.” 

I don’t have a conscious memory of a time where I wasn’t being abused 

I started to freak out. My father had died when I was 19, so my mother was home alone, and my brother said: “I’m going to go and see Mum and find out what’s going on.” Now, Greeks are volatile; we act first and think later. I thought this whole thing could blow up, so I jumped in my car to drive to my mother’s house. I walked into the living room right at the moment my brother was giving my mother this government document. I felt like I was watching a movie. My mother took it. Her whole face changed, and she said: “George, I’m so sorry. All of the adoptions in Australia in the 1960s were closed adoptions, and we never thought you would find out. Before your father died, one of the last things I ever told him was I would never tell you. So, I tore up all of the paperwork. I threw it all away.”

My mother then turned to me, and asked: “Christine, since we’re telling the truth today, do you want to know the whole truth?” And with that, I asked: “I’ve been adopted too?” With tears streaming down her face, my mum nodded her head.

As you can imagine, I was stunned. But then the very next thing that came out of my mouth right there in my Greek Orthodox mother’s kitchen, was: “Oh well, Mum, before I was formed in my mother’s womb, whoever’s womb that was, God knew me. And he knitted together my innermost parts. He fashioned my days before, as yet, there was one of them. I’m fearfully and wonderfully made.”

That day every fact that I thought to be true about my life changed. I still don’t know the facts surrounding my conception. I don’t know if I was the result of a one night stand or an ongoing adulterous affair or maybe even a rape. But, although I don’t know the facts, I do know the truth, and the truth is more powerful than the facts.

I had come to a saving faith in Christ in my late teens. Some friends of mine introduced me to Jesus in a really relational way. I had been so relationally dysfunctional – in and out of very destructive relationships. Most of that was because of the shame and the pain that I was carrying. I encountered a living Jesus and was introduced to the Bible, and people started to explain it to me in a way I could understand. When I was almost 22 someone invited me to a life-giving church in the suburbs of Sydney. I went in and there were drums and lights; I thought I had walked into a disco. But the Spirit of the Lord was in that place, and that was when I started to become a fully devoted follower of Jesus; it was 29 January 1989.

FS: I love that when you told of that moment with your mum in the kitchen, Psalm 139 was planted so deep within you, it just came out. 

CC: For me, it was a greater truth. A little bit down the track, I received documents from the government. On my birth certificate, it said “particulars of child prior to adoption” and then it said “child’s name”, and then typed in next to that it simply had the word “unnamed”. To see that in black and white was like a knife in my heart. In my mind I heard: “Christine, you’re nothing. Your mother didn’t even want you. She did not even give you a name. You were just a number. No wonder you were abused. You’re not worth anything.”

My body and my soul carried the trauma, the shame, the guilt, the condemnation and the anger

I was living in Summer Hill in the suburbs of Sydney when I read it, and my husband wasn’t home. I was weeping, sitting on my kitchen bench with my Bible. In my heart, I just had this sense to open Isaiah 49:1. I didn’t even know what it said. These were the words that I read: “From the womb of your mother. I have named your name.” I felt the Holy Spirit say to me: “Christine, it’s going to take as much faith to believe that black and white ink on paper on that document as it is to trust and believe. The black and white ink on paper in this book where you place your faith in this moment is going to determine the trajectory of the rest of your life.” At that moment, I chose to believe Isaiah 49. 

RS: I suppose your reflection on how God has used those challenges that you faced to really break your heart for millions of trafficked women is true.

CC: Sometimes people say to me: “Aren’t you glad it happened, because look at all the millions of people you’ve helped?” The truth is, no, I would never wish [all I’ve faced] on anyone. You would have to be unwell to think that abuse is ever OK. But what I can say is that God has redeemed every ounce of it. Because not only has it given me a heart for people, it has motivated me to action. Every time we rescue someone from human trafficking or we put a trafficker in jail, I think: “Devil, you can stick that in your pipe and smoke it. I bet you wish you left me alone.” 

By God’s grace, I’m 58, I’ve been married for 28 years to an amazing man, we have two beautiful daughters, 22 and 18. And I lead a global ministry called A21. We have 20 offices in 15 countries, rescuing victims of human trafficking and raising awareness around the globe. And I have the opportunity to preach and teach and see people set free through the power of the gospel.

I should have been a statistic by all intents and purposes. Most people with my kind of background end up really crippled and paralysed in life because the trauma is so damaging. I’m not in any way minimising or dismissing that. It is deeply painful and wounding. But I do want people to know that the blood of Jesus still has power to set us free, and you can have a life beyond your past. 

RS: For people who don’t know, can you tell us something about trafficking. Why is it such a massive, global issue? 

CC: It was 17 years ago when I was in an airport in Thessaloniki, Greece. I was going to speak at a conference, and I saw all of these posters of missing women and children. I went on to find out that these were alleged victims of human trafficking. At that point, I never even knew what human trafficking was. The truth is, there are more slaves today than ever before in the history of humanity. At the height of the transatlantic slave trade, there were 13 million slaves. There are 50 million slaves in the world today. 

Not only has it given me a heart for people, it has motivated me to action 

I was going to teach on the parable of the Good Samaritan. I was 40 years old at the time, just had my second child and I was not asking the Lord for a new ministry. But, as I was preparing the message, in my heart, I just had this sense that [the Lord was saying]: “Christine, you think you are the Samaritan in this story,” to which I said: “Yes, I do. Because I’m here. I’m doing missions work. I’m doing teaching. I’ve got a baby.” And then I felt [him say]: “No Christine, you are more like the Levite and the priest. You are so busy going to speak at your next Christian conference that you see these people as an interruption to your ministry, rather than the object of your ministry.” The Samaritan was busy as well. He was on his way to somewhere else, but because he was willing to be interrupted, and he had true compassion, he crossed the street, rolled up his sleeves and gave his own time, talent and treasure to make a difference. True Christian compassion is not compassion until you’re willing to cross the street. So, I began to educate myself, and, by the grace of God, almost 17 years later, thousands of men, women and children have been rescued, and hundreds of traffickers are in jail. 

RS: How do you stay grounded in your family life and your walk with God? 

CC: Nick has always been committed, by God’s grace, to me becoming all that God’s called me to be and finding ways of doing family life that works for us. I’m like everyone else, stumbling my way through, just trying to make it to the end with Jesus. I’m involved in very serious work, but I’ve made sure that the joy of the Lord has remained my strength, that Jesus is my goal and that I’m still reading my Bible [and] I’m in church. I think that the kids see that Nick and I love Jesus, love life, love each other, love people and I think it is infectious and contagious. 

Find out more about Christine and A21 at: a21.org and christinecaine.com 

Follow Christine on Insta at: @christinecaine