Today, we had to go back across the border to renew our visas.We drove for about an hour and a half from Chantaburi to the border.
Leaving Thailand was easy.
Sounds cool, so that’s what we did.
Then we got the bill, and nearly choked.
It was a lot more expensive than we thought it was going to be.
Pastor had to take someone back to get enough money to cover all of us.
And we never physically crossed the border back in Cambodia.
Why?
The service took our passports and ran them over for us.
So we sat, waiting and watching other people walk across.
The border was so close… and yet so far away.
My other teammates weren’t at all sad to not have to go back into Cambodia, but I was.
Just a little bit, though.
It was more for not having the experience than any actual desire to go back.
The border-crossing nonevent wasn’t even the noteworthy part of the day.
On our way back into Thailand, Nicole met a monk named Dang.
We invited him to the English class we were teaching, and he said he would see about coming sometime this week.
So we might have a monk at English class on Tuesday night.
I wonder if things didn’t happen the way they did so that we could meet Dang.
If so, then I’m happy to not have walked across, because we never would have met.
And if we get the chance to share the gospel with a monk because we didn’t physically walk back into Cambodia… even better.
Because God’s time is perfect.
