However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me — the task of testifying to the Gospel of God’s grace.
Acts 20:24
Monday morning we are treated to French toast for breakfast. We are so spoiled by the American breakfasts we are served at our hostel. I am somewhat fearful to think what the next 10 months might hold for my first meal of each day. We head out for an ATL (Ask The Lord) in the morning. While on this ATL we end up at McDonalds and Daniel introduces me to the 15 Baht chocolate-dipped ice cream cone. I have found it both a blessing and a curse that Daniel loves ice cream as much, if not more, than me. In the afternoon we head to the slums. We arrive to find a soccer game already in motion. While we wait for a chance to join the game and for more kids to arrive, we occupy ourselves by learning a new game that is some combination of volleyball and soccer played with a wicker ball. Kids begin to trickle in and we leave the sports to play in the dirt. Little hands guide us up a large dirt hill and kids motion for piggyback rides. We play tag and throw the Frisbee. In this moment I remember how good it is to simply play. When the time comes to leave I have to pull myself away, I could stay here for hours. The little grins captivate my heart.
Tuesday morning Aly and I set off with a translator, Benz, to check out transportation options for getting to Cambodia. We first check the train station, jot down some prices, and then go to the bus station. With the help of Benz, we get prices and times from a few companies and then head back to Zion with our transpo plan in place. My team’s first ministry of the day is a prayer walk. We walk and pray over the busiest bar street in Chiang Mai. This morning, it is lifeless. In a city with 5,000 men, women, and child prostitutes, lifeless carries more than one meaning. When we return 10 hours later to do another prayer walk, the scene is completely different and yet all the more heartbreaking. As people fill the streets seeking a good time, Thai women line the doorways of each establishment in an effort to sell, not drinks or food, but themselves. As we walk, I pray each of these women would know true love and worth, not measured by the amount they are paid, but simply because they are a daughter of God. I pray redemption over the next generation of Thai girls. May they also know God’s love for them and may they find other alternatives to a life in prostitution.
Wednesday I wake up to find a Paperless Post from my sister waiting for me in my email. After a hard day yesterday, this is exactly what I need to feel better. We flag down a sung tao outside our hostel and we are off to monk chat. We sit down and meet a monk named Kim. He is eager to learn, taking down our names and many English words in his notebook. He is smart and inquisitive. He asks if we love our religion. We explain it is not about religion but a relationship with God, and we love God. He asks about the word relationship and writes it down in his notebook. Before we know it, bells are ringing and Kim must go to lunch. We wouldn’t want him to be late since monks aren’t allowed to eat after noon, so we say goodbye having enjoyed a great morning chat.
After shoveling down some breakfast on Thursday, Aly and I grab a tuk-tuk to the bus station to buy tickets to Bangkok where we will meet our private transport to Cambodia. We are momentarily alarmed when we arrive and nothing looks familiar from Tuesday. Aly spots something familiar and we reorient ourselves and find the company where we need to buy the tickets. We successfully explain the correct date, time, and class of ticket we want to the man in the window and get to pick out and purchase seats for the squad. As I hand over the money I breathe a small sigh of relief; the 14,000 Baht to pay for the tickets has successfully arrived at its destination.
For a change of scenery we head to a coffee shop, Ma-Chill, to start our ATL on Friday morning. As we pray about where we should go next for our ATL, two of us receive the word to stay at the coffee shop and interact with the owners. Another person receives a word to pray for our squad. We decide to stay. We spend time in prayer, hanging out as a team, and getting to know the couple running the shop. We learn the place just opened a month ago. As we are about to leave, we ask if we can pray for the couple and the shop and they agree. We pray with the owners and then take a group selfie. In the afternoon we head to the slums again. A girl grabs my hand and motions for me to sit down. She takes down my hair and then proceeds to braid, unbraid, and re-braid my hair for the next hour. A little girl no more than 3 sits on my lap and we do a coloring book page together. I’m pulled over for a game of tag and soon it is time to say goodbye.
Saturday we get a quick breakfast at our favorite spot, none other than that French bakery and then the majority of us pile into sung taos and start the ride out to a place called “Sticky Falls.” These falls get their name because of mineral rock they are composed of that give them a “sticky” quality and allow you to walk up and down them. We spend a few hours playing in the falls. I try sliding down one of the smoother areas only to find out it is not smooth. My butt is sore. There is a small waterfall at the end of the sticky falls and we all stand under it and get a nice shower. The best water pressure we’ve had since leaving home. After returning from the falls, Andrew, Victoria and I head out to find dinner and end up grabbing burgers and French fries. We are happy for an American dinner. I am missing home and needing alone time after a day of people so I crawl up onto my bunk and watch Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid, a family favorite, a successful off-day in the books.
Sunday morning is spent with Victoria at Ma-Chill. We share about our weeks, since we are on different teams and don’t see each other all that much during the daytime. We both get delicious banana pancakes to eat and spend time reading our Bibles and journaling. We eventually head back to our hostel and spend the afternoon packing and getting ready to spend the week in the village. I am excited to see what life outside the city is all about here in Thailand. I am less excited about the prospect of not having a real toilet or shower. Let the real adventures begin.
