Bangkok, Thailand- October 17, 2016
(in Karakol, Kyrgyzstan, I thought I heard the Lord tell me that I wouldn’t go back to Thailand. And I accepted it fully. Then last month in Mongolia we learned that we would not be able to get our Chinese visas, so we could not go to China. And so the powers that be chose for the squad to go to… Thailand. What? How can this be?
As we landed in China to visit the Great Wall for a day, 17 of us were denied into the country for a “secret reason”. So we sat in the airport for 20 hours. And then were rerouted to… Bangkok.)
The moment we landed, I texted Pi Kay and asked when the bakery was open. I spent three months with Pi Kay and Samaritan Creations in 2014. In that time I learned a lot about community and love and the heart of the Lord for both the women selling themselves and the people buying love. I had the amazing opportunity to pour into the women who came out of prostitution and into a better life, but I also experienced love I had never felt before in these sweet women in which the Lord delights.
Back to the airport. Pi Kay told me that the bakery would be open until 4:30 pm the next day. I felt peace flood through me as I thought about going to see my Thai family. So I text back, “See you tomorrow!”
We jump into a van and make our way to the Airbnb, and I just feel joy. My feet cannot stay still and I feel like dancing.
Thailand does that to me.
We made it to our place, chose rooms, and settled into bed.
That’s when the enemy came to my pillow and whispers in my ear, “What do you think you’re doing?! They won’t remember you. They don’t care if you come. You aren’t important enough or memorable. Don’t go.”
All the peace in my spirit drained out. I gave into the lies and let him take over; I allowed my head to rest in anxiety and worry, fear and doubt blanketed my body.
I panicked all night long.
The next morning I call my mom in tears,
“Should I go? It’s going to hurt so much if they don’t remember me.”
“You should go! You are so close to them, just go.”
I am full of anxiety all through breakfast. It’s Amanda’s birthday, but I can’t even enjoy it because of the fear I am allowing to penetrate my spirit. As I sit, Kelsey texts me and asks what I am doing today.
“Are you going with everyone today?”
“Um, eventually. I want to go visit the ministry I helped with- probably after this”
“By yourself?”
“No, I’m going to try and find someone to go with me. I don’t want to pull anyone away from the activities of the day, though”
“I’ll go!”
Oh dear. Now I have locked myself into going.
Kelsey walks in about five minutes later, and we walk together back to the house.
It’s 12:30 pm at this point, and I am still flooded with worried thoughts. I start making excuses to prolong our leaving.
“Let me charge my phone until it hits 40% and then we can go.”
“I’ll go to the bathroom and then we’ll leave”
Finally after 45 minutes I force myself to say, “Are you ready to go?”
I had looked up the place that morning on Apple maps, positive that we are going to the right place.
We hop on the sky train to Udom Suk, butterflies spinning violently in my stomach.
“Kels, what if they don’t remember me?”
“Of course they are going to remember you.”
“I just feel like I’m not memorable.”
“Shan, they couldn’t ever forget you.”
We get off at the third to last stop, a part of town I have never been. I look at my maps and we decide to walk the rest of the way. It’s hot, the air is heavy and the sun is strong. We walk across and over streets, through markets of food and past carts of flowers. My heart starts to calm on the street with the familiar smell of Bangkok and the sound of Thai being spoken all around. Kelsey looks at me multiple times and says, “I love this!” I can’t agree more.
After thirty minutes of walking, we arrive at the location on the map. The street looks old, but we find house number 20. I’ve seen pictures of the ministry on facebook, but this doesn’t look familiar. We pace at the front of the building, hoping to see someone I know. A woman next door starts calling out to us in Thai, asking what we are looking for. “Number twenty? Samaritan Creations? Kay Killar?” She calls into house number twenty and a middle aged man comes out. “What are you looking for?” (Thank you Lord for him)
I tell him the name of Pi Kay’s complex, and he informs me that it is ten kilometers away, we should get a taxi.
Breathe in, breathe out.
We walk back to the main road and hail a taxi; I tell him where we want to go, and he says okay. Not a minute later, he asks to call whoever we are going to visit.
“I don’t have their phone number.”
It’s too late to get out of the taxi. He hops on the highway and takes us to Ikea and the mall.
Breathe in, breathe out.
When we get there, I walk straight into Starbucks and get wifi.
I shouldn’t have tried to go. This isn’t working. Those worries were right. Why am I doing this?
I apologize to Kelsey,
“I’m sorry about all of this.”
“For what? It’s okay!”
“This is just a fiasco.”
I text Pi Kay and ask for her number, just in case the next taxi needs to call her. I go to the ATM to get money, the only one that works is the one that takes five dollars to withdraw. I do it anyway. I pull out more money than I want to, but it’s my only choice. I have to buy something to break the thousand baht note.
We walk out of McDonalds and straight to the taxi station. I have directions on my phone to the ministry so I direct him there. Sweet Kels fell asleep on the way there; it’s been a long day already. When we get about a minute away, my phone dies. Thankfully there is a large sign marking the town home complex, and I can still remember the house number. Finally, we make it to Samaritan Creations.
I walk into the door and hear, “Shannon! Welcome! When I got a message from you last night I got so excited!”
Pi Kay asked us to sit and brought us Thai tea and chai. We talked and she spoke so kindly about me to Kelsey.
“I’ll tell Thom to bring Khuan downstairs.”
Khuan is my little love. We spent three months together, almost constantly; playing, singing, laughing. She learned to walk when my team was in Thailand. I had the honor of caring for her while her mama worked and went to school. I woke her up some mornings and took her to the market for breakfast; I gave her baths; she fell asleep in my arms I don’t know how many times; she threw corn all over the place at dinner, and drank chocolate milk before bed. She has a piece of me.
When Pi Thom brought her down, I could have cried.
Three years old.
Long ponytail.
Talking to her mom so quickly and kissing her face.
And she has no idea who I am.
She’s scared of me.
She’ll go to school next year.
She’s so so happy.
Feelings of sadness and joy are mixed together.
As much as I long for Khuan to run into my arms and say, “Pi Shannon!”, I know it’s only a dream.
But I know it’s okay.
I know that she is so loved here.
And that is all that matters, really.
Thom asks me if I’d like to see the other women upstairs, “Pey, Jum, and Kahn are upstairs, and also five new girls!”
When I walk into the door, Pey screeches and a smile fills her face. She runs over and hugs me. Kahn comes next, her tiny arms wrap around my waist and she does a little dance.
“How are you?” she asks
“I am good! How are you?”
“I am fine. I miss you.”
Pey and Kahn go back to work, they’re making nativity sets to sell downstairs. Thom introduces me to the newest members of the ministry, they are so sweet. They are able to name everyone on my passport team, and ask if I have seen any of them recently. They also tell me that my hair has grown a lot and I’ve lost weight.
After a while, we take a few pictures and it’s time for Kels and I to go. When Kelsey turns around, Pey picks me up off the ground and laughs before sitting down again. Kahn hugs me and says, “I love you.” As we walk out the door, Pey yells, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” and raises her hands up with the sign for love.
As we walk down the road to find a taxi, the Lord just fills me with peace.
Kelsey looks at me and says, “They’re cute!”
And all I know to say is, “I know.”
Thank you Lord for precious friends.
Thank you for being there.
Thank you for showing your love through people all over the world.
Thank you for never forgetting me.
Thank you for taking care of them.
For taking care of Khuan.
Thank you for being so constant.
Thank you for your peace.
Thank you, Lord.
