It may get loud the grave is empty now and it may get wild His love is like no other…the sweet sounds of Kim Walker Smith ring in my ears as I sit uncomfortably cramped into a van.
My feet are asleep and my knees ache as they jamb into the seat ahead of me with every bump that the driver hits. It’s as if he’s playing a game and trying to hit every one. The warm air brushes my face as I stare out of the window into the thick Malaysian jungle. For some reason that I don’t understand, the trees are planted in straight rows. The vines crawling slowly up them covering the bark and only displaying shades of green. My eyes capture the beautiful view and I desperately attempt to take mental pictures of all of the beauty that surrounds me:
Huge mountains jut out of the earth straight into the sky, the expanse that is above me is white and light blue with huge fluffy clouds strewn across the ocean in the sky. I take in the sites of hillsides laden with red and orange dirt. As we continue deeper on into the jungle I become more and more carsick with every fast curve and bend in the road. Families on motorcycles whiz past just in the knick of time, they cut back over into the right lane, which is of course the left, as a car speeds past on the opposite side of the road.
Our driver, Lucy, is a short, stout Malay man and he’s taking us to an indigenous village to teach hygiene and English to the villagers. I look up thinking we are almost there as we come to a stop and realize we’re stopped in the middle of a bridge, I unsuccessfully try not to freak out as Megan comforts me and says its okay, it’s okay (I hate bridges) and just as quickly as we stop we start again. A few moments later the road suddenly turns from potholed pavement to straight up dirt and rock and if I thought the potholes were bad, this proved to be worse.
(the rickety van)
As the rickety van made it farther and farther into the jungle and closer and closer into the village the view changed from sturdy houses to bamboo huts. Before I knew it the dirt road came to a dead end and we were at our final destination. We piled out of the van stiff legged and sweaty.
The village was quiet and we were all a little confused as to what we were supposed to be doing, there seemed to be nobody around. As I looked around, though, I saw little eyes peeking out of the windows so curious but too afraid to come out and talk to the foreigners. It’s still so weird being called a foreigner. I looked around and saw a man holding a little boys hand, I waved and said hello and was given a huge smile in return from the man. He then walked the little babe over and I immediately tried to befriend him. He sat scared looking at the ground for a short while as I talked to him before he suddenly jumped up and ducked into a house out of my view and my interrogation.
(the cute babe who ran away from me)
Sweat beaded and rolled down my forehead as we waited…
10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes passed and we continued to wait…
(sittin..waitin..wishin)
We were told it was bath time in the village and the “fifteen” children we were teaching would come soon. So we waited, and sat, and waited some more. We chatted with the only person who knew a little bit of English, took pictures, received many looks from the locals, and waited some more. After 45 minutes Lucy returned with a van full of sweet and adorable little Malay babies. 10 of the most adorable little boys walked past us and giggled the whole time.
(teaching the boys to properly wash their hands-they loved it!)
For the next two hours we spent time getting to know the boys, teaching them how to brush their hair and teeth, how to wash their hands, we played games, taught them about helping one another, and about Jesus’ love. The moment we entered the village I felt at home. Over the last six months village life has become normal and it’s always refreshing to meet the people because they never cease to be the nicest people on the planet. Ridiculously shy at first, but always warming up to us by the end of the visit, we always manage to become fast friends. When the time came to an end we took a group photo, well, like 20 group photos since we all had to get one! We gave high fives, thanked the villagers, and said our last goodbyes as we all piled back into the van, tripping and giggling as we fell into the seats.
(Team Catching Fire with our new friends)
As I sat in the tiny seat, bumping around again, I reflected on the last two hours with the children and couldn’t help but smile with so much joy and love in my heart. These are the stories I will tell and the moments I will store up and cherish in my heart for the rest of my life. Sweet, sweet moments in time when the only agenda is to show love in whatever way possible and laugh a whole lot.
