Cross on the Wall

It’s about doggone time I made an update.

I have an anecdote to recount along with the update.

The first — the anecdote — is something of a flashback to our return to Mae Sot a week or so ago. It was a powerful moment that I have, until now, kept to myself out of a certain awe.

Our very first morning in Mae Sot involved a brief stint of helping out the Outpour staff, while the remainder of the day was a time for rest (a very tiresome, boring one, as it turned out to be). We were assisting Outpour staff in cleaning out a warehouse-type building. It was once host to a boy’s home, which moved locations, and needed to be cleaned out before it could be returned to the landlord.

The building was full of dust, spiders, and garbage. Even though cleaning it out did not take long, it was not entirely a pleasant task. We were instructed that any objects leftover inside could be thrown away — and by and large, it deserved to be thrown away. Amidst the sweat, chaos, heat, and dirtiness however, there was a jewel.

Hanging on a wall covered in spiders was a simple, finger-length wooden cross strung upon an equally-utilitarian string.

At home I wear an unassuming wooden cross necklace 24/7. It serves not only to proclaim my faith to those around me, but also to remind me of the Lord. Any time the cross pendant clinks against a table or taps gently against my chest I am reminded to think of Jesus. Of His sacrifice, His love, and His commands. My church gave it to me on the day of my baptism. At a graduation dinner this summer, however, I lost it. The twine I strung the cross upon broke at the table without my notice, and I walked out of the restaurant without realizing its absence. I never found it, and I have since noticed its absence directly correlate with infrequent thoughts of the Lord.

Yet here in Mae Sot, the last place in the world I thought I would find myself on that day, was a near-identical piece of jewelry just hanging there waiting for me. Since it was to be thrown away if I did not claim it, I took it. It has rested on my neck nearly every day since, filling the purpose of its predecessor. Surpassing that purpose, too, for it has done more than just prompt spontaneous thoughts of God each day since.

One of the first things I laid eyes on upon our return was, for all intents and purposes, something I had previously lost. Just as a cross necklace was a reminder of God’s presence in my life at home, so too was it on our first day in Mae Sot.

It couldn’t have been more clear if God stepped down and said it to me Himself: I am here, too.

And, as I mentioned in one of my previous blogs, that has, in fact, indubitably been the case. He began to work the moment we stepped on to Mae Sot’s pavement again, and He has not deigned to stop yet.

Yesterday we revisited the village on the Burmese border that we found a bit over one week ago. This time, we brought crayons and coloring pages, as well as treats and a frisbee. Our aim was simple: to continue to nurture the budding connection Outpour and our team made with those people. Some of our team was able to meet with some monks in their monk house, and the Outpour staff had a long discussion with village leaders explaining our purpose. Regarding that chat, I have good news! Outpour has been invited — I might go as far to say encouraged based on what the translator related to us — to build a school in the village to teach English, useful skills, and, of course, the great love of Jesus Christ.

It’s the kind of stuff I hear about from other missionaries, but hardly expect to happen to you on your mission. After all, sometimes long-term missionaries seem to be operating on a different plane of existence, for such things to happen. Apparently God did not think it was a good idea to let us walk away without being a part of that. Go figure!

Cross-posted from my personal blog.