Sometimes, you just need God to show up. You need to see God at work in something real, something you can gaze upon with your very own eyes, something you can grab ahold of with your tired hands and feel in the deepest depths of your rice-filled belly.
Sometimes you just need God to remind you light breaks through darkness, every time.
As she walked over to our table in her 5 inch, studded stilettos the rhine stones sparkled in the dim bar lighting. Her shirt was a crisp white, low cut and skin-tight, sporting the bar’s logo. Her bottoms barely passed for shorts and would probably be more suitable to wear under pants instead of as pants. Her smile was wide, her makeup flawless, and her personality bubbly. She leaned into our table and asked us where our alcohol was, clearly having absorbed a few drinks herself. The clock was approaching midnight and we were pushing into our third hour at the bar.
She introduced herself as Mae, and the conversation started rolling. Her voice was loud, her laughter louder, drawing the attention of surrounding tables. A teammate nudged me and motioned to Mae’s neck; a delicate gold chain draped gently across her collar bone and from it hung a small golden cross.
I raise my voice from the opposite end of the table, catching Mae’s attention. Putting down my coke I touch my hand to my own chest, smile, and tell her I like her necklace. She clasps the small cross of gold in her fingers and begins to say, “Thank you! I do not know what it means, but I like it so much!”
Turns out since she was fifteen years old this cross has claimed it’s place over her heart—literally. For seventeen years Abba has been pursuing this priceless woman and tonight He invited us into a Holy moment, when the Truth around her neck was named.
“I do not know what it means, but I love it. I just love it!” she says once more.
My heart starts to race. My face flushes with warmth as my mouth forms a gentle smile. Motioning to teammates around the table and our friend, Jovie, who frequents the bars with World Race teams I say, “Mae, we know what your cross means. Would you like us to tell you?”
Her facial expression transforms into a beautiful combination of surprise and curiosity,“You know what it means? Yes, yes! What does it mean?”
Truth and love flow out of my heart and into hers. I tell her that cross is about Jesus; His great love, His forgiveness, His desire to have a relationship with her. Jovie shares the story of God from creation through the Gospel using pictures and Mae’s own language of Thai.
Mae listens intently, carefully observing each picture and explaining to Jovie the Thai writing she is reading under every image. I watch them from across the table, praying out loud that Jesus would claim His daughter in this moment; that years of pursuit would come to fruition right here. I’m praying that at 11:45pm in a bar in Phuket, Mae’s heart and mind would understand the great love of Jesus that has been covering her life for seventeen years. I watch as Mae wraps her arms around Jovie’s neck so tightly you wonder if anything could separate them. Jovie prays over this moment and Mae’s life.
With glassy eyes, Mae looks up at us wiping tears that have collected under her chin.“I just feel all this love,” she says, “I feel love for all of you and I don’t know why!”
“That’s Jesus!” we say, feeling all the love, too.
God showed up tonight. God showed up throwing punches into a darkness I was starting to think was too thick for freedom to find a way.
God reminded me that He is never absent, or oblivious to the hurt, the pain, the dirty and scary parts of our world. God reminded me that His character is one that pursues for 17 years, doing the hard work of loving us through our mess and miss-steps, our poor choices, stubborn pride, cycles, and shame.
God reminded me there is hope here yet, and that hope is found in Him.
