Here we are in Chiang Mai, Thailand. A tourist destination where the street food is cheap, delicious, and won’t give you diarrhea…most of the time. Our squad is located central enough to walk anywhere or catch a cheap ride across town. What are you hungry for? Burgers? Pizza? Thai food? Vegan? THEY HAVE IT ALL.
I would say this month is comfortable when compared to India (let’s be honest, most things are more comfortable than India). Thailand has a western feel to it. The appropriate dress attire isn’t limited to long pants or shoulders being covered. So, to reiterate, it’s comfortable here.
Except it’s not. It’s a battlefield every day. The spiritual warfare is thick. I can’t count the amount of times I walk around verbally strapping on the armor of God to be under his protection while declaring Psalm 91 (you wanna have weapons in your belt? Go read this and declare it over your life every day).
I vividly remember waking up one night and crawling down from my top bunk to use the restroom. As I climbed back to my bunk, I felt this weight pulling me down.
For a second, I thought it was Bam (my co-leader—it’s in her wheelhouse of things she would do), but I instantly discerned this sensation wasn’t physical. It was spiritual. I was so fed up with the enemy being a sneaky mom, I rebuked him so fast and with such force it even shocked me.
As I sat eating lunch with Mai, one of the Thai workers at our hostel, we chatted about food (an American’s top conversation starter), family, faith, and the barriers here in Chiang Mai. A huge one here? Sex trafficking.
As I packed up my life nine months ago and headed out on this adventure with the Lord, I packed my cute little naïve brain as well.
The perception I had of sex trafficking is from the infamous trafficking movie Taken, starring Liam Niasan. It’s a movie about an American girl who is captured and taken to a foreign land with the intention of being trafficked by her offenders.
Although, sadly, this is the case at times, there’s more to it. From my experience in Chiang Mai, Thailand, it looks different. It’s not forced, it is desired. Creating a pleasurable experience for the tourists or locals can pull in hundreds of dollars just for one night.
Think about it: College girls are drawn to the idea of not having to work long hours to pay the bills yet live an upscale lifestyle. This isn’t the case for all, but it is for some.
After talking with Mai about this, my world was rocked. It still is.
When I first came to Thailand and saw women outside of bars dressed in scandalous attire, I would be filled with pity. Now, I feel sad.
I’m sad to know there’s a pit inside that needy body and she’s just filling it with fleshly wants, not heavenly needs.
We all have them. Deep pits inside of us which we chose to fill. We get to choose what we fill it with.
Maybe it’s sex or fanaticized sex such as pornography.
Perhaps it’s gossip and spreading false talk.
Maybe it’s eating food to numb and to not think about the past or current situations.
It could even be binge watching TV or never saying ‘no’ to people and pushing aside taking time for your own personal health to please others.
We all have them. Some people hide theirs better than a money filled egg on Easter. Others wear them on their sleeve. Ultimately, we choose what we fill ours with.
I’ll give you a glimpse of mine.
Imagine this…
You’re sitting at my dinner table. I didn’t invite you, but I didn’t oppose you spending time in my house. You initiated, I accepted. Appetizers come out and an array at that, crab cakes, shrimp scampi, sushi, and the freshest fruit around. But hold on, you’re just getting started. The lobster tails start swimming out of the kitchen doing the backstroke in melted butter and sautéed garlic, which is seeping onto the nicely fluffed mashed potatoes garnished with diced chives. Course after course comes out – chicken cordon bleu, chicken salad, crab Rangoon pizza, tiers of chocolates, and the fanciest rums that have ever tickled your taste buds.
You’re at my table for a long time, clearly. You’ve been eating for hours and I’ve probably kept you busy chit-chatting about everything and anything other than deeper level stuff about me.
There it is. That’s my pit. I put up a great spread on the outside. Food that is appealing and succulent. The presentation of it looks fresher than John Wayne in McClintock and steamier than any scene from the Titanic.
If you sit at my table long enough and eat all the food I’m giving you, I’ll eventually either run out of lobster or money. Maybe both. But that’s when I open up and become a real person instead of the perfect human I try to be.
I can display a nice outside and a believable one, but you sit at my table long enough, and I’ll give you an authentic meal to eat. An authentic meal consisting of hamburgers and cheese curds.
That’s authentically me.
That’s my pit. That’s my go to. My fall back. My place of hiding and filling. I fill the pit with a false sense of myself, which is easier and less energy for me. It might be easier for a short while, but it’s lonely at times.
My default might be to burrow into my hole but when I have the urge, I go against what’s easy. I open up to my people around me. I become transparent instead of this dense piece of mango wood that looks polished and immaculate but too thick to see through. No human other than Jesus was immaculate, so why am I trying to be while rewarding myself with zero grace?
I am in a process of inviting people to my table while feeding them authentic “Rachael” meals. I’m done feeding people a nice meal that looks sexy but isn’t authentically me. Come to my table and eat a burger and a curd.
Here’s my charge to you…
What do you fill your pit with? Anything other than Holy Spirit and you’re walking on thin ice. Ice that might appear to be safe but will break and give you probably the most miserable shower of your existence.
Don’t step on the ice with your floatation device thinking you’ll just roll the dice. It will not be nice.
