Vietnam has been quite the challenge. Ministry-wise, we began the month with a dozen different plug-ins. Every morning we went to a different place: on Monday, the orphanage; on Tuesday, visiting the rehabilitation center; Wednesday was for prayer walks and on and on. In the evenings, we attend an organized English conversation meeting at a local resteraunt. It was a lot of travelling, a lot of feeling pulled in multiple directions. It's slowed down some since the beginning, thankfully.
The Vietnamese people–as a whole–have been incredibly inviting. They're curious about American culture and want to practice their English skills. What's been the most amazing thing, though, has been that wherever we go, the Vietnamese we meet are genuinely interested in our stories. They want to know about me, "Heather-the-possible-friend", as opposed to "Heather-the-American-tourist." I've been asked on more dates in three weeks than I have been since my last boyfriend and I broke up (and no, I don't want to tell you how long THAT'S been. Embarassing.).
Along with the curiosity comes the expectation that we won't mind sharing our stories with them. It's completely normal to be asked my age, occupation, why I'm in Vietnam, and the ever popular, "Why you not married yet?" question. The Vietnamese ask us questions without stopping to wonder if we're going to mind answering them. There's a sense that they have the right to know. My life is not just mine; it belongs to them too.
Don't get me wrong, they aren't a rude people by any strecth of the imagination. Far from it. They just don't see the point in keeping their stories to themselves.
For a private person like myself, being asked to give my testimony can be quite the ordeal. There's no chance to say, "No, I'm not comfortable with that," because if I do, I instantly become the arrogant, selfish foreigner I never want to be. It's been a difficult, but much appreciated streching of my heart, to share my story with–for lack of a better phrase–complete strangers.
But here's the thing: The Vietnamese attitude towards testimonies is absolutely correct. My story is NOT just about me. In fact, it doesn't even really belong to me. My story is ultimately about the LORD and what He has done. Anytime I share it, it's a chance to tell my audience about who He is and how He can take someone broken and redeem them. My lifestory, my testimony, is–at the end of everything–just a story about my glorious God and the powerful love He holds for His children.
It's a story I'm willing to tell again and again because He is so, so good.
