With hearts and minds full of excitement and anticipation, six squad mates and I embarked on an adventure through the streets of Bangkok with one thing in mind: to get some tattoos. You see, that was the first day of Debrief, which is a week of reflection on what the Lord has been doing in the past month while in Cambodia, and also a period of rest and fun.
So, the seven of us were planning on getting tattoos while in a nice place, to make sure most of it is healed before we head out into the more rural areas of Thailand for ministry for the next two months. And we were excited. Beyond ourselves with excitement. These were the tattoos that we have all been thinking about for months now (some of us even years,) and we could not wait to actually have them inked into our skin.
But we got a little sidetracked.
Because the first tattoo parlor we went to (supposedly the best tattoo shop in Bangkok,) was all booked up, and wouldn’t be able to fit us in until Tuesday. It was Saturday. So we said “No thank you,” and moved along on our way, hoping for a new shop so we could actually get our tattoos that day.
So, we stopped to eat lunch at a tiny, dinky little Subway (with Wi-Fi,) to get our thoughts together and to make a decision on where to go and what to do next. And we decided to go to a different parlor, one that was only a couple miles away (or so it said on Google Maps.) And we also decided that the half of us who were getting tattoos would drive in a taxi, and the other half would walk, because they wanted to explore the streets of Bangkok a little more.
But then our taxi driver got a little lost.
So, we said “thank you,” paid him, and got out, hoping we would be able to find the parlor on foot. It couldn’t be that hard, right?
But then we got a little lost.
As we walked up and down the streets of an equivalent of two city blocks, every local we spoke to either didn’t know English, or had no idea that the tattoo shop even existed. Or, if they did, one local would send us to the right, and the local on the right would send us back to the left.
Okay, so we got really lost. Like desperately, I have no idea where I am lost. The kind of lost where you just kind of wander around and hope for any beacon of light to lead you the way you need to go. And then ours came (kind of.) Because in the distance, we could see the outlines of the four squad mates we had left behind to walk to the tattoo shop. And they looked a little lost as well.
So, together, we started to wander the same two city blocks again. We looked for new locals who we hadn’t asked yet, hoping for new wisdom and new directions. And, somehow, after a lot of frustration and maybe a few almost (not-so-almost) tears, we were handed a business card for the tattoo shop, and a Thai phone to call the number on the card. So, a squadmate called the number, and explained where we were, how lost we had become, and asked for directions.
They told her that they used to be at the location we were looking for, but just recently they moved to a new location. In the same vicinity as the first tattoo shop we visited.
Exasperated and confused, the seven of us hopped into a taxi with a man who had two cross tattoos on the same arm, a man who said he knew exactly where the tattoo shop was because that was where he got his tattoos done. On one of the crosses on his arm, was the image of Jesus being crucified on the cross.
On our way to the tattoo parlor, we found ourselves in a conversation with the man about his life, his family, and how he became a taxi driver. We also were able to talk about Jesus and the tattoos on his arm. The man, Mr. Egg, said that he was a Buddhist. He said the only reason he had two crosses on his arm was because the symbol “looked nice.”
So, one of my squad mates asked, “Mr. Egg, do you know what that cross means? Do you know why Jesus is on that cross?”
We all watched as Mr. Egg shook his head, with a small light of curiosity in his eyes. And maybe a little bit of confusion as well, (language barriers are a real thing!)
And then my squad mate launched into a very simplified version of her testimony, about how she used to be a Buddhist, but then found the light and the truth of the Gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. She explained, in broken English, how Jesus came to this world to die for our sins, that salvation is not something we earn or work for (like how you have to in the Buddhist faith,) that it is a gift we are given, that we do not deserve, because our Father loves us so much. She explained that because of Jesus, she is free from sin, and free from all bondage. That he could be too.
And as Mr. Egg just nodded his head with his eyebrows furrowed, we arrived at the tattoo shop. We smiled at the man, thanked him profusely, and started to get out of the van. But then he turned off his taxi, and walked us all the way to the tattoo shop with a smile on his face. He dropped us off, and as he turned to leave, another squad mate told him, “I want you to know that those tattoos on your arms are real, and that Jesus loves you so much.”
And although none of us got tattoos that day (lol, our Father is funny like that,) I think we all agreed that it was a good day. And that was (probably) the last time I will see Mr. Egg on this side of eternity. I don’t know if anything we told him about Jesus translated into his mind. I don’t know if we planted a seed for the Father to grow, or if he really just didn’t understand what we were talking about at all.
But I do know that the reason we got so lost that day was because the Lord wanted us to find Mr. Egg to remind him of how much the Father truly does love him. To remind him that he matters in this grand, beautiful story the Creator of the Universe is writing. And I want you all to know that you matter in His story too. The Father wants to send you either on a crazy journey through the streets of Bangkok to find a Mr. Egg, or you are the Mr. Egg whom the Lord wants to remind of how much he loves you.
He loves us so much, friends. So much that he sends a group of seven 18-year old American girls to a random man in Thailand that drives a taxi. You do not go unnoticed. Not now, not ever.
