The first was a market trip with Ethan and a few friends. We had waded through at least an acre of fabric; more than I'd seen in my life. There was Chiang Mai Plastics where every type of craft supply, well mostly, could be found. Thai clothing stalls and woman squatting next to them creating as they waited for the next sale. Lunch had been at an oasis in the middle of this market. A tea shop with a lovely garden and a ham & cheese sandwich. It had been a day of discovery as we sampled and took in some of the delights of this downtown market. The day was coming to a close. Coconut 'ice cream' was being enjoyed and we were going to take a quick look at the flower market.
Crossing the street was hazardous, there was a bit of a push of people, motorbikes and mayhem. I was paying attention to the path ahead.
"Mom"
It's the word that catches my attention no matter the distractions.
"Mom, we have to help him."
There he was in the narrow path into the 'fish' area of the market. A blind man holding a silver tin handled cup in both hands. He was singing.
So, we stop.
We notice.
Ethan's now gone to his compassionate plea, "Mom, what can I give him?" "Are these coins enough?" "Who takes care of this man?"
This moment was stuck in my throat.
The momentum of the crowd is carrying us forward. Past the fish mongers and now we're praying "Lord, have mercy on this man. Heal his eyes, care for his soul."
Ethan wants to head upstairs out of the way of people and begins asking more about this one soul. This is not compassion that's taught. This is a gift to see and be moved to action.
The moments stuck in my throat again.
We're on to the flower market, everything is beauty. Ethan's pointing out some flowers for one of our friends. It's as if when compassion was awakened by the one soul then other souls become more special as well.
There was one more beggar found, which cleaned me out of my change. Ethan was proud to find them, and give what we had away. It was a great market experience, may stay lodged in my throat a little longer.
The second moment with something stuck in my throat was this evening. It was Mexican night here. It's not a small task to do that kind of food well here. I had soaked the beans overnight, shipped a bag of Masa, shredded cheese, made the salsa; and baked this beautiful taco pie. This was a meal that's more a labor of love than most. We even had chocolate cake. I'm teaching our neighbors daughter the art of baking. Meal complete, now on to the bike ride.
Riding bikes has become our evening ritual. Ethan and I talk about everything from super hero's and smog, to Thai language and God. I love these times as a family. We were just passing Ethan's favorite part of our route. I had my arms up and was doing a bit of woohooing. That's when it got stuck in my throat again. It must have been a fairly large bug with a will to live. I felt it pass my lips, and then lodge itself on my gag reflex. At first I wasn't breathing right. I tried to signal Ethan, but he had kept going in the moment, and was too far ahead. I made it another block. Slammed my bike kick stand in place and then made several failed attempts at releasing the bug before I finally released it along with my dinner.
Two moments drastically different, probably both types will happen again. I'm praying that when the compassion wells up in Ethan's heart again we'll have more to give. More coins? Maybe, but more of Jesus, for sure. How cool would it have been if while we were praying the man was cured of his blindness? How can we impart more of the kingdom of God into the obvious needs of people around us? I think it starts from moments spent with God. Time listening to His words over our lives, time invested into reading the Bible. Holiness and intimacy with God; leads to wholeness, intimacy and satisfaction in life.
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