just look at me: part 1

They call Thailand the land of smiles; everyone that you meet will greet you with a smile and a warm welcome that will put southern hospitality to the test. But, I’ve come to learn that this is a facade. In a country overwhelmed by idols and Buddhism, the people plaster a smile on their face but their happiness is only skin deep. It’s easy to fall victim to the charade and forget the truth, until something so earth-shattering happens that you can no longer ignore it.   

Tonight was one of those nights; a night that, while inhaling a deep breath, the air caught in my throat and I wasn’t sure if I could force myself to swallow and just breathe. A night that tears stung my eyes; thoughts flowed through my mind, yet I couldn’t force them to roll off my tongue and become actual words. A night that brought anger and helplessness to the inner-most depths of my heart, with the potential of leaving me jaded by a hopeless world.

God always seems to do this; He always wrecks my world right when I think I’m finally beginning to understand things. Right when I’m learning to believe in the dreams He’s given me and trusting that He’s placed things inside of me that were meant to be shared with the world. Asking Him to break your heart for what breaks His always sounds so much prettier when prayed in a prayer, rather than the wrenching that it actually does to your heart. 

I’ve felt a disconnect with my heart lately; nonchalantly saying things when I probably shouldn’t and lacking a thankful spirit in the areas that I should. Transition is coming and it’s messed with me.. So, I’ve been praying for the Lord to give me renewal; for thankfulness and joy to flow from my heart once again. We went to the Tamarin Festival tonight; a fruit that is native to Thailand. We’ve visited our fair share of festivals, markets, and night bazaars the past few weeks so I was less than excited about this event; I contemplated staying home, but felt an urge in my spirit to go. So, I went.

We walked around slowly, oohing and awing at the squid on a stick, and playing a few games spontaneously while passing the time. That’s when we walked past him; a man lying flat on his stomach, face-down, gripping a plastic bowl rattling for coins; his hands resembled claws because his fingers were short and pointed, while his feet were half-way missing and turned inward. He was obviously the victim of mutilation by someone trying to earn a profit off of the sympathy factor. The man was lying in the middle of the walk-way, but everyone simply stepped around him without even glancing in his direction. My spirit started to stir and I knew we were supposed to bless him somehow, so I stopped and talked with Ryan. Ryan’s been reading the book Crazy Love, which will definitely challenge you to help others, so he agreed that we should bless this man somehow. 

We walked back to the food stands and purchased some food and water, then knelt down and handed it to him. Then, he glanced up at us with red-rimmed eyes that revealed he’d been crying; my heart broke for this man, a deep sorrow rested in my soul. I didn’t expect to begin praying for him, but as soon as we knelt down I heard myself saying “let’s just pray”. It seemed as though everything around us stopped, the only things remaining in the atmosphere in that specific moment were the words of our prayers and the street-lights streaming down on us. A sign of hope.