Before reading this, make sure you read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4 of Mae’s story. I know it’s long, but I promise it’s worth it.
The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
Psalm 19:1-4
A couple days later we went back to the bar to hang out with the girls again. As soon as I turned the corner and Mae saw me, her face lit up and she gave me a huge hug. Her entire demeanor has changed, and she no longer fits in at the bar. She never really fit with the other girls, but now there is something visibly different about her. She smiles more, and she seems to walk around on air, like she’s part of something greater than the pain that surrounds her. She secretly whispers in my ear that she’s excited for another meeting with Emmi tomorrow, and I smile about the miracles being talked about right under the nose of the people oppressing her.
After a couple games of pool and some Coke Zero, I settled in with Mae on the couches in the back of the bar to talk more. After a conversation with one of my teammates that day, I was curious about why she picked me. Why did she come to me that first night when I was sitting on the couch and tell me all about her life? I asked her that question, and she smiled softly, looked down, and thought about it for a minute. “I’m not sure. I lay in bed last night thinking…Why I talk to Emily? There was a whole row of people on the couch…Why I choose her? Usually I get lonely so I like to find someone every night to talk to, but only about the weather, why they like Thailand, or what foods they like. I never talk about my life because it is too sad. It make people sad, and they no come here to be sad. But that night I feel something in my heart…I do not know what it was…but I feel something when I see you and I think maybe she can help me. So I sit and tell you everything.”
“I know why,” I told her. “We came here to help people. We didn’t know where to start so we walked up and down the street for an hour, praying about which bar to go into. We felt like this was the right one, so we came in. I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so I sat on the couch and prayed that if anyone here needed help, God would send them to come talk to me. And then you sat down next to me.” “I no believe in God.” I explained to her that she doesn’t have to believe in God for him to love her. “God no love me. I’m too bad. He no love me.” I told her, “I am more sure of this than anything in the world: God does love you. There is literally nothing that you could do to make him stop loving you, even if you don’t believe in him.” She looked at her lap for awhile. “You really think God can love me?” “Yes.”
We talked for awhile longer, and then suddenly she stopped. “Are you serious about walking up and down the street, praying for which bar to go to? Are you serious that you sit here on the couch and pray that someone who need help come talk to you, and then I come? This really happen?” Yes, I told her. I’m entirely serious. I explained that she might not believe in God yet, but he is seeking her, and he loves her enough that he sent my friends and me halfway around the world to help her. He put me in that bar on the night when she needed someone to talk to, and he gave her the courage to approach me and open up.
“When I was young, I used to wonder about God. I grew up Buddhist, but Buddhism doesn’t explain how the world get here very well. I look around and I see the mountains, the ocean, the trees, us…I know it’s not an accident. It’s all too complicated to be an accident…somebody have to make it. I used to wonder who made it all. I met a Christian, and she showed me a movie about Jesus, so I know about Jesus. I like Jesus, but I’m afraid of God. I’m not afraid of people, but I’m afraid of something bigger.” “Are you afraid of what happens when you die?” I asked her. “Yes. I afraid of God. Jesus hate me.” “Jesus does not hate you,” I assured her. I explained that God loves everyone, no matter what we have done or will do. I explained forgiveness and becoming white as snow. I told her that when we accept Jesus as our Savior, God cannot see our sins because he sees us through Jesus and his sacrifice. “Really?” “Yes, really.”
And then she dropped this bomb on me. “Jesus no love me. Jesus only love white people.” Everything in my mind froze. I felt like I was watching a bad educational film that they show to Christian anthropology students to teach them about the horrific results of culturally insensitive missions efforts. Except this was real life. I was actually sitting on a couch in a bar in Thailand across from a Burmese girl who believed that Jesus couldn’t love her because she was too brown. In a culture where their greatest desire is to be whiter, and where my pasty skin is the epitome of beauty, she came to understand somehow that Jesus is only for white people. Fail.
I smiled at her, and assured her that Jesus really, really loves brown people. “In fact,” I said, “Jesus was born in Israel. I’ve been to Israel, and they’re brown there. They look more like you than me there.” “Really? Jesus was brown? He look so white in all the pictures. And all the Christians are always white.” I explained that maybe she had just met a lot of missionaries from North America, but that there are actually more non-white Christians in the world than white ones. “Trust me,” I said, “God loves people of every color.”
“I know that accepting the idea of God is a big step for you,” I told her. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight, but promise me that you’ll be open to the idea and that you’ll talk with Emmi more about it. She would love to talk to you about God.” “I will. I want to learn more. I like this Jesus idea. I’m not really Buddhist anymore…I like Buddhists, but I love Jesus. And I afraid of God.” I told her that where she is right now is OK. “As long as you’re open and you know that God loves you, you’re going to be OK.”
She gave me a long hug. “Thank you for help me. Really thank you. Usually I not like to thank people, but this time, from my heart, thank you.”
To be continued…
