I want to tell you a story. I met a man named Tan in Malaysia (yes, this blog is coming a little late!). He’s middle-aged, quiet, avoids eye contact whenever possible. And when he does speak, he’s so quiet you could miss it if you’re not listening closely. But once he knows he has your attention, he’ll only pause to catch his breath.
Tan’s home is on the streets of Georgetown, Penang. It is not a friendly place. His family doesn’t want much to do with him. I met him one Wednesday afternoon right before lunch was served at the Kawan Center (the homeless shelter ministry I was part of in March; this ministry center provides breakfast and lunch 3 times a week as well as a free shower and someone to listen to them and a safe place for them to rest). I had a few other conversations that same day, but the time I spent with Tan was the highlight of my day…and honestly was a highlight of Malaysia.
Hannah, one of the volunteers at Kawan who I became close with over the course of the month was also there that day. I was in a discussion with someone at a different table when she came to me and asked me if I could come and pray with someone with her once I was finished. He needed healing, she said. So I agreed, wrapped up my conversation, and walked over to where Tan was sitting.
He was by himself, and after some introductions, we began talking and Hannah translated when necessary. He had a problem with his legs, and that was why he wanted prayer. It was painful for him to walk. We prayed.
Right after we prayed, he told me that he didn’t know how to pray, could I teach him?
I was floored.
Hannah asked him if he’d ever accepted Jesus into his heart and he nodded, and
so I explained to him that it’s just like talking to someone who’s right there
next to you. I told him that God sees our hearts so we can be honest with Him
and even talk to Him about things that we are angry about or hurt about or
confused about. “You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not,” I told him. Gauging his reaction, I don’t think that anyone ever told him that. Hannah prayed for him in his language and then had to go, but Tan and I kept talking.
I had a hard time understanding him
sometimes, but we had a long talk. He asked about my family, I asked about his…more about his life. He told
me something that really broke my heart. He told me that he doesn’t have
many friends around here, and mainly keeps to himself. He’s gotten used to not
talking very much, he said. He told me that living the way he does, people don’t even see him.
I would’ve sat there forever, letting him talk.
Something about him was just amazing. He’s
beautiful. He accepted Jesus into his life less than a year ago. And he told me that he immediately felt different…finally at peace and joyful right where he was at, after he prayed. Before we finished our conversation for lunch time, he smiled – it was the first smile I saw from him, but was not the last – every time he saw me at Kawan, a smile revealing some missing teeth would spread across his face, and joy would fill my heart.
I love being able to love these
people. They’re so grateful and beautiful in their own
ways…some are a bit crazy, some are a little creepy (had a marriage proposal one day, haha), some are funny, and some
are so quiet you wonder what occupies their mind…but each of them is beautiful and has a story, if not many, that must be told.
These people aren’t just found on the streets of Penang, though. No, they’re everywhere. If my whole purpose in living in Georgetown for the month of March was to tell a homeless man something about prayer he’d never known before – if my whole purpose was to give him my attention for a couple hours one morning, just allowing him to talk – and telling him that he’s worth listening to – then it was worth it.
It was well worth it.
