Here are a couple of my experiences/lessons over the past few weeks. I pray you are blessed. :)
I sat there on a mat behind a
bench that is used as a desk, listening to a tale of joy and pain. The girl was
small, not even coming to my shoulder. As she spoke and Hannah Steck
translated, emotions flickered across her sweet face. She told of thankfulness
to God and of a transformation in her life. Her smile could not be contained
here.
Then K' Mwee Paw told of
something else... Something deep, moving, that reached right down into my
heart. She told of pain-a pain that obviously hurt very much, though she still
managed a painful smile every now and then. What was this great hurt that she
now spoke of? Home-going home for visits. Yes, that thing that should have been
a joyous event was filled with sorrow and hurt. You see, she is one of many
students who's parents are, or at least were at one time, against their
children's new-found religion. They are Buddhist, as are many people in this country.
She told of how her mother
would try to get her to take the offerings to the temple. She knew she
shouldn't, and she didn't want to-but the pressure was great, and she gave in.
On her way, she somehow tripped or dropped the gift, much to her relief. She
told her mother it was a sign God did not want her to take it.
Another time, some monks came
to their house while she was home. Her mother asked her to set out the mat for
them and do some other things for them (the monks are worshiped by the people).
She ignored her mother and did not do it, so her mother eventually did it
herself. The girl went to her bedroom until the visitors had left. Her mother
was not happy because of this.
Often when she disobeyed
while trying to follow God at home, she would be punished. Her punishment? No
food.
Her brother and mother would
often say things that hurt her very much. There was a constant pressure to give
in to temptation. She told of several times where she gave in, against her
conscience.
As K' Mwee Paw spoke of her
painful situations, she had to pause to hold back the tears more than once. My
heart went out to her as I listened to her desire to do right, her temptations
to do wrong, her desire for her family to love Jesus. I couldn't help but
think, What do I face compared with this? How would I hold up under that
kind of pressure? Would my love for my family get in the way of my love for
Jesus?
This precious girl, so young
and sensitive, has endured a lot for her faith already. And yet, every time I
go to Grade 5 class, or meet her on a path, or see her washing laundry, etc.
under our house, her cheery smile and "Good morning/wah lah ghay/good
afternoon/hah lah ghay, Teacher," always brightens my day and brings a
smile to my own face. My prayer is that I am as K' Mwee Paw through difficult,
painful times. "Persecuted," but remembering I am "not forsaken.
Cast down, but not destroyed." A cheerful light no matter what pain God
has allowed or is allowing me to face. Thanking God for trials, for pain-for
they are what help me grow in Christ.
It was a beautiful
Sabbath. The sun was shining and the dying leaves turning brown and falling to
the browning grass. Today was a special day. Not only because it was Sabbath,
but because whoever was left at the school during the break between terms was
going to the Mae Salit church not far from the school to take part in
their communion service. We all piled into various vehicles and headed off to
the church with wind blowing in our faces.
Once the car stopped, we
walked the short distance up the hill from the car to the little church. The
church service started with the loud ringing of a bell, and then hearty singing
by nearly everyone but me (I still cannot read Karen well enough to sing with
them). I sang the tune with them, singing the few words I remembered here and
there. There was no breaking up for Sabbath School because of communion, and
the sermon was not as long as others have been.
When the sermon was finished,
we all filed outside for footwashing. The ladies did it first while the men
sang, and then the ladies sang while the men had their turn. As I wondered who
to be partners with, I looked at Chit Chit Win (pronounced 'Chee Chee Way'), a
usually giggly girl who was standing near me. "You want to do with
me?" I asked. She replied with a nod of agreement and a cheerful,
"Yes."
We stood there with one arm
around each other until there weren't so many people getting water. She got
water in a basin, and we walked under the church, where I sat down and took my
shoes off. We prayed together, then I watched as Chit Chit Win knelt in front
of me and washed first one foot, then the other, probably better than anyone
has ever washed my feet. How much more meaningful was this experience, as my feet
were not as clean as they would be at a church in America. When she was
finished, she went to get more water, not me. We prayed once more, and then I
was the one who knelt to wash the dark feet in front of me.
Back inside the church,
we finished the service with the bread and fake grape juice. It was a solemn,
beautiful Sabbath that I hope to always remember. I pray I will at least
remember the lesson of humbling myself in the sight of the Lord-that I am no
more loved or important to God then anyone else-that to be a servant is real
joy. Though we are all different, we are all equally loved by God.
I counted it a privilege to
experience this with Chit Chit Win. Please keep her in your prayers. She looks
down on herself a lot and is not really happy inside. She smiles, giggles, and
jokes often, but she has said more than once that she is sad inside. She also
hangs on me a lot and wants to be with me constantly. I pray I can reach her
with Jesus' love and be patient with her.
