Wednesday, January 21, 2009

A Moment in History/ And a Brush With Evil

***narrative journal***


It is a moment in history for the United States of America. You have probably heard this many times thus far, but decades from now people will recall this day and say I was here, or I was doing such and such.

For myself, I will remember this day being thousands of miles away from America- in another culture and in another world. I will tell my children that on this day, the world heard a message of hope, but when I walked a Bangkok city street, all I saw was evil. On this day I felt, heard and could almost touch an insurmountable wickedness. On that street in Silom I could almost hear an unvoiced cry. It was a despair that beckoned for something greater than our ability to hope or to carry out human ideologies. It was a kind of despair that drives you to look for a savior...

Barack Obama is sworn in as the 44th President of the United States

****
January 21, 2009 Bangkok
January 20, 2009 USA

Roadhouse Grill on Rama IV road was renowned for serving authentic American food. The three story building stood prominently on the corner of Rama IV road and Surawong road. While the historic event was taking place on a Monday morning in the States it was Tuesday and almost midnight in Bangkok. The Sunday before I had met an expat from LA who invited some friends and I to join in the night’s inaugural festivities.

“Jawt tee nee,” I told the cab driver to stop. I and my German friend, named Timotheus, exited the taxi. Timo was a 23-year old college student who lived just seven minutes from my place. He was German white, and stuck out in Bangkok like a black bean on rice. He actually was born in Thailand and spoke pretty good Thai. In reality, even though I look like I'm Thai, I was more the black bean and he was more like white rice.

We crossed the busy street. We flung open the heavy doors and stepped into a bar-like scene. On a historic day for America the building was filled to well above its capacity. CNN was blasting from the television screens. Obama t-shirts were arrayed around the room and red, white and blue balloons had been tied to the ceiling. Timo and I found ourselves shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd of mostly middle-aged farangs (foreigners) who had turned the restaurant into a beehive of laughing, eating and drinking and talking politics.


Obama’s speech wouldn’t be for at least another hour. We found our Thai friend named AJ in the middle of the crowd.


“What's up!” I screamed over the noise.


“Hey man!” AJ screamed back. We spent at least thirty minutes trying to yell over the noise. I grew frustrated. I hated crowds and I needed to get some air.


“Its too crowded in here,” I said. “Let’s go get food and come back for the speech.”

We descended down the three stories, out the door and into the street. We had only taken at least a dozen steps when suddenly we were stopped by a man with a stack of tickets shoved into his back pocket.

“Good show!
" he said. "No cover! Ladyboys!” My heart cringed. A ladyboy was a transvestite man who, upon first glance, looked very much like a woman.

I took a second to look the man in the eyes, searching for a source of conviction- a drop of reason. His eyes were like glass- empty- this man was acting only on instinct. We ignored him and kept talking about where wanted to eat, but the man kept going.


“Ladyboy show!” he said again, as he moved closer. “Song roi…”


I turned my back to him as he was in mid-sentence. Just the image of men parlaying at a "ladyboy show" gave me a gag reflex. I looked about the soi. The street was crowded and their seemed to be an unusual amount of farang walking about. I was surprised. It was nearly 11 pm but the lights were bright and people were eating and milling about as if it were midday.


On the other side of the street I saw a large, fluorescent sign reflecting blue and green light against the black asphalt. From inside the disco I could hear techno music thumping, reverberating out the entrance and into the street. Inside, I could only see shadowed movement.


Down the street, there was a business called “Health Spa”. Outside a half dozen men were reclining on chairs or lying on their sides at the steps. They shared a common uniform- tight white polo shirt and tiny black shorts. The men’s legs were shaved, their hair was long and dyed, and their eyebrows were plucked to a point. Behind them there was a dark stairway that carried away customers to gloomy, white washed rooms.


I turned away
and lifted my head towards the night sky. My stomach and heart seemed to meet somewhere in the middle.

Behind me I could hear the guy speaking rapidly in Thai, trying to entice my other two friends. They ignored him and kept talking to each other. Above me the clouds were floating high above all the bright lights and street bustle. “God, why am I here?”
I thought to myself.

“Let’s go this way,” AJ said. We walked up the sidewalk and away from the ticket seller who was still trying to get us to buy tickets. As we walked I looked through the windows of the stores and ignored the street merchant asking us to buy their trinkets. Each alley we passed I saw another street like the one we walked on. The lights and raucous crowds seemed to go on forever.


“Do you know where we are?” AJ asked me as we walked along the sidewalk.


“This is Silom district right?” I said.


“This is the red light district,” he replied. “If you are here they assume you come for sex.”


Right then I looked up and saw a husky Caucasian man sauntering past us on the sidewalk. The middle-aged man had a smug look as he held hands with a petite Thai woman. I could feel a match light inside of me. I remembered a statistic that a friend had shared to my Bible study group just the week before. His voice echoed in my mind: “70 percent of tourists to Thailand are men traveling alone. 70 percent of those men are going to participate in the sex trade.” Around me I noticed even more farangs with more Thai girls and that same smug look.


Timo was hungry. He was standing next to a street vendor and eyeing their display of pork and chicken. From behind the vendor two scantily clad women were sitting cross-legged at a table, looking Timo over as he inspected the food.


“Too expensive,” Timo said. He started walking away, crossing to the other side of the street. The two women returned to their meal.

“Is it always this crowded here?” I asked AJ.


“Yea, its always this crowded. Even at night.” He replied.


Timo kept walking looking for a place to get cheap food. He found soup for 35 baht (1 USD). Satisfied, Timo took his 35 baht bowl and we walked to some plastic tables and chairs set up alongside the street.


There was just only one available table. A Thai woman dressed in a short-skirted dress was sitting alone at a table for four. Timo ventured over and set his food right across from the woman. I was surprised, but then I remembered that in Asia people live in much closer proximity to one another. I wasn’t used to it, but I followed and took a seat at the table.


When we sat I noticed something slightly disjointed about the woman
.

She was fidgeting in her chair. When she lifted the spoon to her mouth her eyes would dart left and right, blinking in a rhythm that sent a slight chill down my spine. I tried to ignore it.


“AJ how was your day?” I said.


“It was good man,” said AJ. “We took a three-hour lunch today. Our boss is out of town.”

As we spoke, I could still see the woman in the corner of my eye. She was hunched over her bowl chewing her food and twitching her jaw in that same uneven pace.
Suddenly, the woman shouted out in Thai. It didn’t seem like she was talking to anyone particular. Across the table AJ’s eyes grew large as the woman kept screaming. He barely turned his head as he stole a glance at the woman.

“What is she saying?” I asked as she kept yelling out into the air.


“I don’t know,” he said. “Something about only having 10 baht.”


She screamed into the air one more time and stood up and left the table.


The three of us took a moment and looked at each other.


“I hear stories about women who go to the temples and make contracts with the devil,” Timo said.

“Really?” I said. I told them I noticed she was acting weird.

“I didn’t notice,” said AJ.


We sat silently as Timo finished his food.


“Hey guys I want to pray for her,” Timo said.


We bowed our heads as he prayed for the woman and the people in the red light district. By the time we made our way back to the restaurant the crowd was even thicker. There was a buzz in the air as former presidents began to appear on the screens. From Ford to Clinton to the Bushes there was almost an aura of kingliness. Of course there were a number of “boos” when George W appeared on the screen. Then, looking as solemn and as presidential as ever, Obama appeared, inciting the roaring applause of the people in the restaurant. They applauded and shouted his name. Some even screamed at the top of their lungs, chanting “Yes We can!”. High fives and handshakes and hugs were shared all around.


After Obama was sworn in, he began his speech. As his voice boomed from the television sets, silence swept the three-story building.


“My fellow citizens: I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation...... as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition. Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath.

The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans…”

On that early morning in Bangkok, some cried and some laughed. Whether you hate or love Obama it can't be disputed that this was a momentous occasion in history.

For myself, I’m not sure if this will serve as the marker for America’s rebirth or last hurrah. From that night, I will remember that street in Silom. I will remember the pressing image of evil. And I will remember that I report directly to an authority who holds an office greater than the office of presidency. His term is eternal and I will hold myself accountable to report to him on that last day. Taking the taxi home, I prayed for President Obama- for his safety and the future of our nation.

Years from now I will tell my children that on January 20, 2009 (21st in Bangkok), I was on a street in Silom, Bangkok, when Barrack Obama became the 44th president of the United States. On the streets I saw evil on a day when many were given hope.


"Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."
Matthew 6:10


Saturday, January 17, 2009

Dear Friends and Familly

**a letter to my supporters**

I spent my Christmas and New Years in the Philippines where I was able to share the gospel with my dad's family in the province. (pictured on the right) I guess if you follow Jesus we are all missionaries and we are continuously called to share who He is with whatever opportunity he gives us.

Here in Bangkok, I have some publications to write and design before our International Conference in March. So it looks like I will be laboring for God from behind the desk! I'll be putting the traveling on hold for a while. Still, I do hope to take a trip to a Karen refugee camp in February and I'm praying to get a chance to work inside China.

Whether we are working hard in California or at a desk in Bangkok, I envision us as one body, laboring together for the Kingdom of God. Thank you for your prayerful support. I am glad to report that here in Asia, God has changed me in such a way that even though I am supposed to be a writer, I cannot find any words to express what He has done in my life.

Thank you for enduring with me until the end. I look forward to be able to write you and tell you what God has in store for me for my near future. Once I discover more, I will be sure to let you know.

" Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain."
- 1 Corinthians 15:58


Sincerely,

EJ ********

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Obituary for an Idealist

*** an excerpt from my personal journal***

Jan. 1, 2009

I tried to take time to be reflective and write down everything that I’m thankful for in the year 2008. Of course on my list there were the undervalued and often mentioned family, friends and health.


I found within myself a sense of irony, when in trying to reflect upon thanksgiving I found myself drawn to this year's personal failures and disappointments. And there have been many. It is ironic that after having seemingly failed and underachieved in so many aspects in my life that God has brought me farther than I ever could have gone on my own strength. Yes, I can concur that it is only when steel is bent in the furnace of failure that it can be formed into the image of God’s only son. The fire- the torrid flame- is the only passage through a person of haughty countenance can ascend. If failure is the precursor to glory than I can only continue to claim my failures as my utmost thanksgiving.

I realize my own limitations. If I could write an obituary for the death of an idealistic youth, I would. Standing on the cusp of 2009 when I will turn just 23-years-old, I realize that the fallout of youthful idealism is that it is tainted by pride. It fails to realize that our foresight is shallow; we are not invincible, we cannot fly and death is our shared destiny. This is a doorway to adulthood that I have felt most excruciatingly sobering because it reveals the frailty of my own humanness.

I see in my own reflection, limited and finite creation, clinging to the infinite and omnipotent Creator. I confess that as a man, finite and broken, I am limited in my human ability to carry out the divine plan.


In all this I have yet to relinquish idealism in itself and I don’t plan to for as long as I have breath. I have only put it into the hands of One who is greater than I- the One who fights on my own behalf- for the fulfillment of my joy and peace. I can only hope that my personal idealism can be steeped in reality and rooted in God’s willingness to carry out his will for his own name’s sake. Through the years and seasons may he never find me lacking in zeal, but may I be resolved to forget about what is behind and press on towards the upward calling that Jesus has given me. By his sustaining grace may he lead me through every failure, every disappointment, every glory and every blessing. Cheers to 2009.


Lead Me to the Rock
Psalm 63: 1-5
Of David


1Hear my cry, O God,
listen to my prayer;
2from the end of the earth I call to you
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I,
3for you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the enemy.
4Let me dwell in your tent forever!
Let me take refuge under the shelter of your wings!
Selah
5 For you, O God, have heard my vows;
you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name.