Right now, I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Bangkok waiting for the train. We arrived here this morning after a 14-hour train ride, and tomorrow morning, we’ll be in Malaysia. After that, we will be one bus and ferry ride away from Penang—our ministry location for the month.
I wanted to share with you where my heart is at, so I wrote a poem. Two pictures I drew during worship last week inspired it. I read it to my squad on our final night in Chiang Mai as an act of boldness; it was a vulnerability talent show. The idea of it was to be uncomfortable and share a talent in a safe place free of ridicule or judgment. I think 10 or 11 people performed, and it was beautiful and surprising. I exist on an incredibly talented squad. From slam poetry to song writing to preaching, our final night was superb.
I read this poem unedited to the squad, and so I am showing it to you (mostly) unedited. I hope it draws a picture in your mind of m month in Thailand.
They do not deserve this.
Thrashing and gnashing of teeth.
Torn scars ripping out hearts
of the broken. They are sitting
in darkness.
They are sitting in darkness,
and they can’t see past black and
blue smudged makeup—like candy
at a drugstore easily consumed to
disappear and be forgotten.
They’re locked away from all hope
Their fears shackled to the night.
Lies quenching thirst of what
they believe is all right.
They do not deserve this.
Broken bodies patched together
with short skirts and high heels.
Night after night, boy after boy after man.
Sitting alone with community
in darkness hoping for love;
striving for joy; falling flat where
the rocks are piercing into the
invisible depths of souls.
But there is hope.
A light in the darkness.
Shining stars that pierce blackness.
Because in the beginning
before there was you, me, or them,
he said “let there be life. Let the
trees grow tall and fish swim deep.
Let there be man made to look like me.”
He loves. Not just a little bit,
but a lot. He loves the buyers
and sellers. Those in shackles,
and those holding the key.
Perfect is as perfect can be.
Mourning the pain, he is
searching for his children,
they are lost but not forgotten.
He made us to be, not to do or to make-
abstracting his law to justify
a life not worth living.
They do not deserve this.
Thrashing and gnashing of teeth
Broken bodies, torn scars
But there are lights in the darkness
One here, two there,
a few more everywhere.
And there is hope.
It came in a man named Jesus
Who died and lived again
to love and bring light.
He came for you, for me, and
he came for them: for those in
shackles and those holding the key.
He came because he loves
He came because he is light.
