A King Came Down
Yesterday, I was recounting this story to a family member of mine and he asked me to write it down, to blog about it while the story was fresh on my mind. I agreed I would do so but asked that if he shared it, he wouldn't share my name or what I had done...after all this story is about a King and not me.
On Monday, after I finished up tutoring, Bryan and I decided to head to Nashville for a little Christmas shopping. Our thought process was that during the day the mall would be less crowded than at night or on the weekend and actually it wasn't so bad. We were both hungry and couldn't decide where to stop to eat (story of my life!) and in a split second decision decided to eat at a small Thai restaurant near the mall. Please note: Having been to Thailand and eaten their food both there and now here, this is a risky chance...Thai food in the states can be amazing or nothing like the real thing.
So we sat down and ordered and between the waitresses running back and forth, there was also a man who waited on us who was clearly the owner of the business. After finishing our meal we told him it was very delicious and I stated that it is hard to get good authentic Thai food but this tasted the best I had eaten here in the states. He was very appreciative. So then I asked the famous question that can go wonderfully or horribly wrong. "Where are you from?" His reply, "I'm actually from Laos. Many people don't realize that most Thai restaurant owners are Laotian, not Thai." I'm thinking...ahhh so that explains it.
The question hadn't offended him and we were able to continue to talk about Thailand, China, Laos and several other East Asian countries. As the conversation went on, the Holy Spirit began to work in my heart or maybe at that point just my own mind, that I needed to find a way to share the Good News with our new friend. Exchanging glances with Bryan, I knew we were on the same page and my wheels start turning as our new friend is just talking and talking and talking. I'm getting anxious and thinking I have to find a way to turn this toward Jesus, but how? And then it was if the Father whispered, "Just listen, just listen." So hesitantly, I listened.
After a few minutes with no help from myself (that is usually how it works and should work) our new friend, whose name is Pat, took a different turn with the conversation. He began to talk about American prosperity and how his desire is to work to help others, not himself. "If you have new Mercedes," he said, "don't come here...give away all your things. I don't want to see you." He told us of a time when as a small child he ate dirt just to get some nutrition and his family had no food or help from anyone.
And then he mentioned the Thai King, the Monarch of Thailand who had been in reign since 1950 and passed away just a few months ago. For the people of Thailand, this was a great loss. They revered their king, almost worshipped him and as far as I know many areas of the country are still in mourning for their beloved ruler. Festivities and celebrations were canceled, many have worn black for months, even billboards with advertisements were painted black in honor of his life. It was just a few weeks ago that some signs began to be painted gold to begin the process of welcoming a new king. To most Americans our comprehension of this honor/reverence is limited but I knew enough about the situation to understand the weight of this recent event.
So when our new friend stated, "What did this king ever do for me?" I was a bit shocked to say the least. He said, "I don't understand why anyone loves this King so much..." "He didn't give me his food, he wasted his food and his palace was beautiful while I lived in a village and ate dirt." The man had a solid point and he began to speak of other monarchies, the British Royal family and so on. And after about 5-10 minutes of just listening to his story and his concerns...in stepped MY Father. "What king gave me anything," he said. "Who helped me with food and shelter?" he asked. "Kings do not help the people..."
In my mind I knew the answer. If I'm honest I hesitated for a moment as I knew the mention of Jesus would draw more attention in the little restaurant than I wanted. But, I knew of a KING who did so much more than what my friend was asking and I had to tell. The whisper again, "tell him Whit, tell him of the King." So I began, "But Pat...there is but one KING who was perfect...His name was Jesus. He gave us everything." As Bryan and I continued to talk to him and interject statements about the King. My friend listened and interjected a bit here and there of how he did have a belief in God but also in his own beliefs.
We wrapped up our conversation and as we were leaving, I glanced to my right in the entry way near the door and there it sat. A Buddha, a candle as well as some fresh rice and fruit. It was a reminder to me that our new friend Pat was still clinging to an idol king that was dead and not yet the King of Kings. But that part wasn't in my power.
As Bryan and I headed to the mall, we were both rejoicing that the Father had given us an opportunity to share his Good News. It wasn't something I could orchestrate, only He could do that! You see only the King of Kings and the Mighty God could coordinate two hungry stressed-out Christmas shoppers to stop into a restaurant they'd never tried and to have a conversation with a lost man about the late King of Thailand. Only my Father could make the timing at Christmas when we are celebrating the only King who ever truly saved His people.
My KING... he didn't give us just his food or his palace or his clothes or help. He gave us His blood. He gave us His life. There was one king and only one king that ever came down from His throne.
"A thousand times in history a baby has become a king, but once in history time did a King become a baby."
I pray that during the Christmas season we would all listen. Listen to the people and listen to that whisper then being obedient to share. It is so easy during this "prime time" to let others know about the King of Kings and Lord or Lords.
Beautiful Feet
On Monday, after I finished up tutoring, Bryan and I decided to head to Nashville for a little Christmas shopping. Our thought process was that during the day the mall would be less crowded than at night or on the weekend and actually it wasn't so bad. We were both hungry and couldn't decide where to stop to eat (story of my life!) and in a split second decision decided to eat at a small Thai restaurant near the mall. Please note: Having been to Thailand and eaten their food both there and now here, this is a risky chance...Thai food in the states can be amazing or nothing like the real thing.
So we sat down and ordered and between the waitresses running back and forth, there was also a man who waited on us who was clearly the owner of the business. After finishing our meal we told him it was very delicious and I stated that it is hard to get good authentic Thai food but this tasted the best I had eaten here in the states. He was very appreciative. So then I asked the famous question that can go wonderfully or horribly wrong. "Where are you from?" His reply, "I'm actually from Laos. Many people don't realize that most Thai restaurant owners are Laotian, not Thai." I'm thinking...ahhh so that explains it.
The question hadn't offended him and we were able to continue to talk about Thailand, China, Laos and several other East Asian countries. As the conversation went on, the Holy Spirit began to work in my heart or maybe at that point just my own mind, that I needed to find a way to share the Good News with our new friend. Exchanging glances with Bryan, I knew we were on the same page and my wheels start turning as our new friend is just talking and talking and talking. I'm getting anxious and thinking I have to find a way to turn this toward Jesus, but how? And then it was if the Father whispered, "Just listen, just listen." So hesitantly, I listened.
After a few minutes with no help from myself (that is usually how it works and should work) our new friend, whose name is Pat, took a different turn with the conversation. He began to talk about American prosperity and how his desire is to work to help others, not himself. "If you have new Mercedes," he said, "don't come here...give away all your things. I don't want to see you." He told us of a time when as a small child he ate dirt just to get some nutrition and his family had no food or help from anyone.
And then he mentioned the Thai King, the Monarch of Thailand who had been in reign since 1950 and passed away just a few months ago. For the people of Thailand, this was a great loss. They revered their king, almost worshipped him and as far as I know many areas of the country are still in mourning for their beloved ruler. Festivities and celebrations were canceled, many have worn black for months, even billboards with advertisements were painted black in honor of his life. It was just a few weeks ago that some signs began to be painted gold to begin the process of welcoming a new king. To most Americans our comprehension of this honor/reverence is limited but I knew enough about the situation to understand the weight of this recent event.
So when our new friend stated, "What did this king ever do for me?" I was a bit shocked to say the least. He said, "I don't understand why anyone loves this King so much..." "He didn't give me his food, he wasted his food and his palace was beautiful while I lived in a village and ate dirt." The man had a solid point and he began to speak of other monarchies, the British Royal family and so on. And after about 5-10 minutes of just listening to his story and his concerns...in stepped MY Father. "What king gave me anything," he said. "Who helped me with food and shelter?" he asked. "Kings do not help the people..."
In my mind I knew the answer. If I'm honest I hesitated for a moment as I knew the mention of Jesus would draw more attention in the little restaurant than I wanted. But, I knew of a KING who did so much more than what my friend was asking and I had to tell. The whisper again, "tell him Whit, tell him of the King." So I began, "But Pat...there is but one KING who was perfect...His name was Jesus. He gave us everything." As Bryan and I continued to talk to him and interject statements about the King. My friend listened and interjected a bit here and there of how he did have a belief in God but also in his own beliefs.
We wrapped up our conversation and as we were leaving, I glanced to my right in the entry way near the door and there it sat. A Buddha, a candle as well as some fresh rice and fruit. It was a reminder to me that our new friend Pat was still clinging to an idol king that was dead and not yet the King of Kings. But that part wasn't in my power.
As Bryan and I headed to the mall, we were both rejoicing that the Father had given us an opportunity to share his Good News. It wasn't something I could orchestrate, only He could do that! You see only the King of Kings and the Mighty God could coordinate two hungry stressed-out Christmas shoppers to stop into a restaurant they'd never tried and to have a conversation with a lost man about the late King of Thailand. Only my Father could make the timing at Christmas when we are celebrating the only King who ever truly saved His people.
My KING... he didn't give us just his food or his palace or his clothes or help. He gave us His blood. He gave us His life. There was one king and only one king that ever came down from His throne.
"A thousand times in history a baby has become a king, but once in history time did a King become a baby."
I pray that during the Christmas season we would all listen. Listen to the people and listen to that whisper then being obedient to share. It is so easy during this "prime time" to let others know about the King of Kings and Lord or Lords.
Beautiful Feet
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