Do you know those times where Jesus invades everything, where he shows up and reminds you that he’s there, always? You know that kind of moment? There was such an evening in Thailand that I will hold in my memory for all my life. It was one of those moments where I was unaware of my surroundings, where I was oblivious to the existence of anyone else.
A-squad was staying at the YWAM base in Bangkok. All of our teams had come back together after three weeks apart at our ministry sites, after a month of Manistry and temporary teams. I had spent the prior weeks in Chanthaburi, a few hours east of Bangkok with Team Naked. After a ridiculous van ride back to the capital – complete with Lady Gaga’s concert dvd, surprise candy from a teammate, and a stop to 7/11 – I said hello to my squad family, hugging them after our time apart.
That evening, I climbed flight after flight of stairs, Macbook under my arm, until I reached the roof. I was determined to be alone, determined to write, determined to just be still. I eventually arrived at the top, and found it abandoned. Some laundry was hung on a line to dry, but there was no one around.
Up there, it was quiet,
up there, it was serene,
up there?
the world around me vanished.
There was a breeze in the air – not enough to keep me cold, but just enough to keep me from sweating to death. I sat down on a bench, listened to a compilation of worship songs and started typing. When I type, I take my watch off (it hinders my speed) and consequently had no concept of time. I had nowhere to be, and I had the space all to myself. Just me, the skyline of Bangkok, the sounds of traffic far below me, and Jesus.
Thailand for me was, in hindsight, about recovering from the craziness that was Africa. Africa hit me hard, and I was wrecked in more ways than one coming off of that continent. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve completely finished processing what happened in that season of the Race. I have needed separation from it, to be sure.
In comparison, Thailand was a safe haven, a utopia.
When we first arrived on Asian soil I was ecstatic. The flights from Entebbe to Bangkok, with a connection through Qatar, were the most enjoyable travel experiences I’ve had, probably ever. Kyle, Kaylynn, and I had spent our hours bonding over the new Three Musketeers movie, airplane food and deep conversation.
Stephanie May, Kyle Markel, Me, Kaylynn Loveless
I was (and always will be) obsessed with my alphabetical plane row that has been more fun than I thought possible. We charmed a Canadian stewardess into giving us extra chocolates, we laughed loudly and often. Something in my soul was healed on those flights; a weight that I didn’t know I was carrying was lifted in those hours. Africa, and all of the negativity I associated with it became a distant memory as we traversed the skies.
Landing in Bangkok, going into the downtown area… it was like paradise. Huge mall complexes, Starbucks, Macdonald’s, a movie theater; it felt like America, felt like home after the dirt and dingy African life. Though overwhelmed, I was incredibly grateful for it all.
I gazed out on the lights of city dwelling, watched the red and white headlights move along the roads. I could hear the traffic horns through my headphones.
Thailand was a month to let my guard down, to get real with five wonderful women from my squad, and let Jesus show me how much he truly loves me. It was a month to hear insight and truth from women that understand where I'm at. It was a month to process some hard things, to have hard conversations with God, and myself. I let myself get angry with Jesus, and then worked through it until I once again trusted him with all that I am.
Team Naked – Koh Chang Island
It wasn’t a month spent on writing or reading a ton, or doing a lot of anything specifically. I rested; I enjoyed the company of my team and my Thai family. I played in his water, literally – waterfalls, oceans, lakes, rivers.
He had spent the month showing me who he was, showing me his creation, showing me who I am and who I’m supposed to be.
So there I was, sitting on the roof, pouring words out onto a page, conscious of Jesus’ love and the gift that a moment of being alone was after three of my favorite weeks on the Race. In a community of 43 squad mates and constant people, that rooftop was the best thing I could have gotten that day. I adore my squad, and my team, but it was a treasure.
As I watch the cars down below I can’t help but admire the general splendor of this city. The lights everywhere, the buildings. It’s alive, even though I’m far out from the main part of it. Life is so special. There’s so much to come. I have this feeling that you have so much more for me than I’m expecting and you’re just waiting, giddy, to give it to me. To surprise me. To show me how much you love me.
Tonight, I know who I am.
I’m a coheir.
I’m your daughter.
I’m a conqueror.
I’m your beloved.
Tonight, I want nothing more than to sit here in silence with you.
Or sit and sing praises to your name.
Fireworks exploded.
I don’t know what they were for.
But it doesn’t matter.
Happy day, Jenna.
Jesus doesn’t need excuses to give you gifts.
Jesus and I hung out on that rooftop for a few hours without interruption. My fingers flew over this keyboard, my heart light and ready for whatever happened next. Ready for our imminent month 8 debrief in Cambodia, potential team changes and the prospect of going home, eventually.
In that evening, nothing else mattered. Jesus had my heart and my mind and my everything.
Now? I'm looking forward to the next time I have access to a rooftop, and I treasure the alone time I have with my savior, because I have tasted and seen just how good he is.
