We arrived in Indonesia April 20th, stayed in Jakarta for three nights, and then took an overnight, eight hour train ride into Yogyakarta; we got back on a train for thirteen hours, and stopped in Banywangi where we’ll stay for the remainder of the week. I woke up yesterday feeling like I’d been hit by bus, I crawled out of the bed that I’m sharing with Becky and Rebecca, ate breakfast then crawled back into bed, and didn’t wake up again until 12 noon. We’ve been traveling a lot and I have gotten a little behind on blogging, but I did want to post an update!
Last time I posted, I wrote about how God shut the door to travel to Penang, and instead helped us get to Port Dickson through a woman who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. I wanted to post an update about how God continued to put just the right people exactly where they needed to be as we ended our stay in Malaysia (there are so many stories that happened in such a short period of time that I won’t tell them all now, otherwise this post will be way too long). I wanted to highlight three people: two taxi drivers and a boy on the beach.
First of all, I know that it’s no coincidence that we were in Malaysia. Originally, we planned to stay in Mongolia during this time. It may be unexcepted for us, but not for God. So, I suppose it’s no surprise that God had specific plans for us and specific people for us to meet; I’d like to start off with where I left off in my last blog about the “angel woman”.
Here’s a picture of me and Katie enthralled by the angel woman.
The night she helped us at the bus station, she called two taxi drivers for us even before she knew we needed a taxi. This was how we met the two Indian men who drove us throughout Port Dickson during our entire stay. The morning after the bus station fiasco was none other than Easter Sunday (this was also the day we thought we were taking the angel woman to KFC). We called the taxi drivers we’d met the night before and they took us to KFC. We planned to head to the beach at sunset to take communion and worship together, and when the woman never showed up, Katie, Becky, and Rebecca went to 7 Eleven to buy something for Kayce who was sick at the hotel.
Alisha called the taxi drivers because we didn’t know that the other girls were going to take a little longer because they went to the store to buy things for communion. When the taxi drivers came and found that half of us were missing, the immediate concern they had made us quickly realize that there was something more to these men than meets the eye. They offered to call the police for us, and then proceeded to drive around the parking lot until they found the other girls. It was like they were our body guards rather than our taxi drivers.
Here’s a picture of them taken the last day we saw them
That afternoon, we went to a café that had opened in the beginning of April and we were greeted with warm smiles by the family who owned the place. We felt at home by the welcoming and friendly atmosphere, and the family sat and talked with us. They gave us free cake, and chocolate eggs (which immediately reminded us of home), and we felt blessed to have had that café to spend Easter afternoon in. This café was also a hostel, and for our final night in Port Dickson we decided to stay there (we were trying to think of something that would bless them since we all genuinely believed that God allowed our paths to cross).
That evening, we headed to the beach. We planned something special on top of communion and worship; we would do a burn. We had taken time to pray individually and allow God to bring to mind anything or anyone He wanted us to release to Him. We wrote it down on paper, and then together we would burn it. I remember all of us taking communion together as the sun went down. I remember the turquoise waves crashing on shore as we sang about what Christ had done on the cross. I remember how each of us tossed our paper into the fire and watched the flames devour our words. I also remember a boy coming up to us. He was probably in his late teens, and I’m sure he was drawn to us by curiosity (what we were doing most likely looked strange).
He spoke very little English, but he stood and watched us as we burned our things. He didn’t try to stop us (he actually helped us get the fire going). We each scooped up some ashes (at this point we didn’t know whose ashes we had, because all of our paper had been mixed together), and we talked about how God bought us together and that we were called to carry one another’s burdens and that this was a symbol of that. The boy continued to watch as we threw the ashes into the ocean. He didn’t leave until we were finished, it was like he was drawn to us and what we were doing.
Our humble beach communion
The Burn
Going back to the taxi drivers, we found out that they stayed at the beach so they could make sure that we were okay the entire time. We wanted to do something nice for them and to figure out something that we could do for them that would actually bless them. We wanted to look different to them. Later that week, they took us to the Hibiscus Hotel (a super fancy place that literally sits on the ocean). One of them stayed with us while we took pictures (I’m not sure how normal it is to feel like your taxi driver is also your body guard, but this is how it felt). We ended the afternoon with them by buying them lunch.
I remember when we left Port Dickson, Becky wrote a note in her Bible and gave it to one of taxi drivers. Their kindness and genuine care set them apart as different and I know that God had us spend that week with them for a reason.
I know that as a team we all desire for people to be drawn not to us, but to Jesus in us. I know that it is our desire to be bold in our faith and actually live it out so strangers see a difference in us. I began to think about the countless hours spent traveling, the bug bites, lack of sleep etc. But why am I willing to do this for eleven months? Because I believe in the message of gospel. My prayer is that people everywhere we go will see Jesus in us, and that they will feel worthy of the love of God the Father. People everywhere deserve to know the truth and to know that they are being pursued by God, and He won’t give up until all have heard the truth and the message of Jesus Christ on the cross. I’d give up sleep any day if it meant there was a chance someone gets to know how much they are sought after by God. Thank you to all who are walking this journey out with me and who have been supporting me from the beginning. Much love to all.
