Many mornings in Mae Sot, I woke up earlier than my teammates and would sneak downstairs to the kitchen area. I would mix a cup of instant coffee and sit cross-legged on a counter. After some time of pointless internet snagging, because I am still hoping to one day get my priorities straight, I often spent some time writing, and talking to God. I would listen to, and write or read His responses. Sometimes, I heard from Him and sometimes, I heard nothing. And sometimes, He answers me later.
On February 21st, He answered a little later in the morning with a man named Lawrence.
I wrote a prayer that morning asking God to let me see His heart and for my eyes to view others the way that He sees His children.
So He did and by 9 am I was utterly wrecked.
Our team ventured out that morning with Michael Perez, an alumni Racer, to grab breakfast and prayer walk. Michael has a heart that immediately draws people to him. His heart loves to connect, whether it’s with the four year old climbing all over him, the young woman that is a true servant to all that enter children’s home or the man with a disability that everyone else overlooks. All month long, our team was blessed by his generosity, encouragement, wisdom and the way that he pours out what he knows his Father has given him. I loved talking with Michael and seeing how evident it was that the Holy Spirit moved in him.
That morning as I went to sit down in Lucky Tea, an open restaurant, on a plastic blue stool, a man walked up to me and stuck his hand in my face and said with a grin revealing only a few teeth, “Hello”.
I looked in his face and smiled back and nervously said, “Hi”. I did not really know what was happening, but saw that the man talked a bit out of the side of his mouth and was leaning slightly towards me. It does not strike me as odd to have people come right up to me and want to say hi anymore. It happens fairly often, but this time, I was really caught off guard and honestly, felt a bit unsteady about the whole thing. He did not linger and moved away from me. I sat down, ordered my usual and chatted with my teammates.
About 10 minutes after eating, Michael, came to our end of the long table and wanted to introduce us to his friend, Lawrence. I moved a few chairs down and sat across from the man that I had shaken hands with only 15 minutes before.
The connection was made that this was why he came up to me to shake hands. He was a friend of Michael’s.
For the next 30 or so minutes, I sat mesmerized. Lawrence regaled us with honest stories about what makes him, him. Some stories were sad, some were funny. But behind each story were eyes that are colored with a hauntingly sad shade of life.
Imprisoned for over 20 years in Burma for joining the rebels against a corrupt government that still attacks its own people today, he showed us scars and shared of various torture he endured for the sake of his people. He is married and has 7 children. At a ripe age of 77, according to him, or 72, according to the year he was born, Lawrence works every day, all day collecting scrap materials and trash to turn in for money to support his family. He battles cancer and worries most for one of his sons, who is an amputee with a mental disability and unable to care for himself.
The country of Thailand or Burma (I cannot remember which country the requirement came from) was asking all native Burmese to return across the border and register for their current refugee status. We were not sure what the implications were for the people if they did not do this, nor what they were if they did cross the border. Lawrence spoke that day of his fears for what it could mean for his family if they crossed. Would they be allowed back into Thailand? It was their new home.
Lawrence told us about attending a Catholic school growing up. He claims to be Catholic, but prays to a Hindu goddess. He believed she was the only god/person that ever helped his family growing up and he prays and trusts the goddess to help him now.
He laughed and smiled and poked fun at himself all the while he was sitting with us. I loved sitting there with him. After some time, someone asked Lawrence if we could pray for him. He said of course and expectantly began to prepare his hands and head to bow. But someone then asked what it was we could be praying for.
In that moment, Lawrence’s hands began to tremble. His lip quivered as he spoke, “Pray for my death.” Tears formed in his eyes.
With everything he had just spoken about, with the laughs that escaped his mouth around his remaining teeth, with the concern he had for his family, with the life he has left, he asked for death.
Jesus did not come so that we may have death, but rather life and life abundantly.
I looked at this man in bewilderment and with overwhelming sorrow. My composure slipping slowly away, we began to pray for our friend Lawrence. Michael spoke out loud and the rest of us in our hearts. Lawrence continued to have tears form in the corners of his eyes and his hands still shook.
“Take his hands, they are mine.”
Without hesitation, I reached and grasped the wrinkled, leathery hand before me on the table. God was telling me to hold Lawrence’s hand, His hand.
Lawrence was made in His image. God carries every heartache and joy. He knows every sorrow, pain and every pleasure that we meet in life. He casts away shame and fear and welcomes us, wholly new in His unchanging love. It is with these promises that He sees us and meets with us and gives us hope.
Holding Lawrence’s hand was one small way that day that God let me see His children through His eyes.
The prayer ended and I wiped my tears away. Before 9 am, I was wrecked.
The day continued and the weekend moved time forward. I prayed for another opportunity to meet with Lawrence before I had to leave Mae Sot.
A few days after my first meeting, I was sitting inside of Famous Ray’s, probably working on something really important, or not, when I saw a cart pull up. Michael was outside talking with someone and I heard his voice. Lawrence was visiting on his cart.
I went outside and began talking with him. I asked how he was doing and he said not well. He began to tell me about his illness and treatments that the doctors wanted to try. He spoke of liver cancer and how it was painful and gave him terrible breath. It was making him self-conscious. We continued to talk for a few minutes more and I offered to pray with him again.
We stood for a few minutes as I spoke healing over his life. In his body, and his heart. That he would have hope in the Lord because the way that God loves him is so clear.
I did not pray long, but it does not matter. God knows. He knows His child and the love He has for him. I did not need to remind the Lord of how He sees his son, He knows and now I know too.
Lawrence thanked me and we stood talking for a few more minutes. He asked me random bits about myself and how long my friends and I would be around. I told him I was leaving the next morning, but that I was glad that I got to see him again. He said he wanted to say goodbye to our group and I told him we would be back that evening around 6:30 or 7:00 and to stop by.
With a nod that he would and a wave goodbye, he was off.
That evening, our team arrived back at the apartment and restaurant at 7:00. We had visited some of our other friends one last time and now had plans to eat a big burger from Ray’s. Michael was inside and told us that we had just missed Lawrence. I was so bummed.
Then Michael handed me a plastic bag with a big cloth inside. It was cloth for a sarong. In our conversation earlier that day, Lawrence asked me if I liked the traditional clothing, specifically the sarong wrap that Burmese women commonly wear. “I don’t know,” I replied. “I think they are pretty, but I have never worn one myself.”
And now, I have one because my friend Lawrence wanted to bless me. He shared a gift with me when he didn’t have to, when there were so many other things he could have used that money for. I was humbled and blown away.
He shared a gift with me. And just like God does, when He does not have to. God did not have let me understand His heart more the day that I met Lawrence. But He did. He wanted me to have that gift.
I left the next morning to arrive at debrief early, to spend time with my co-leaders and our mentor. The team arrived into Chiang Mai from Mae Sot the following day. They carried news that Lawrence had been struck by a vehicle and was in the hospital. I have no idea what has happened to him since then, but I continue to lift him and his family up.
And I thank God that I had the chance to meet His son.
