The God of the Rambutan

I honestly don't know what God was thinking when He created the rambutan. This little fruit looks rather intimidating at first glance; it's bright red body is covered in soft green spikes, giving it the appearance of a fruity version of a porcupine. Once I got past my initial surprise at the harsh exterior, the locals laughed at my childish attempts to rip it open. They twisted it apart for me, revealing a gooshey white ball inside. Then they popped the ball in their mouth, spat out the seed, and reached for another one.

I'd been praying and researching a place to go for this summer back in the mission field ever since I left Africa last May! Despite my most valient attempts to plan everything out, God refused to show me what He wanted me to do until less than two weeks ago. After many dim days of pleading with God to use me this summer, He opened the doors for me to go to Thailand to help with Hope for Bangkok, a church planting initiative. Even though I'm already here, I still don't know just what all I'm going to be doing. Oy! This whole experience has really stretched my faith.

Driving, waiting, and flying to get to Thailand took 30 grueling hours. As I was traveling alone and didn't even really know where I was going once I arrived in Bangkok, my only hope was Pastor Venn's promise to pick me up in the airport.

Though my plane arrived half an hour early, by the time I got my bags and passed through customs, I was standing at "Arrivals" on time. Quite a number of people stood there holding signs, but none of them looked American, and none of them held a sign reading, "Sarah Belensky."

This was exactly what I had hoped would NOT happen. So I walked up and down the hall, trying not to look anxious or lost. Maybe they smelled it on me, however, for I was bombarded by many inquiries of, "Where are you going, Miss?," in the hopes to get me to purchase their taxi service.

Here I was, all by myself in the Bangkok airport. Honestly, I thought, what on earth can I do? Get myself a hotel? Find the next plane ticket home? After 45 minutes of wandering around, I decided to page Pastor Venn. That effort, however, bore no fruit. Neither did calling Southern's 1-800 number. Keeping constant communion with my Heavenly Father was the only thing that kept me from withering into a pool of tears and despair. I foolishly had no cell phone, no international calling card, no phone number for Pastor Venn, and no address for where I should be going. Thoughts of the foolishness of my whole plan to come over here started to creep in.

Just as I lifted my head Heavenward to ask what suggestion God had for me then, two Americans passed me. Hope against hope, was it them? But they kept on walking past me.

Determined, I followed them, and praise God, it was Pastor Venn and his wife, who apologized for being late. Whew!

This experience reminded me of the Christian journey. Our life on earth can sometimes feel like we've been sitting on a plane for the last 29 hours. The hope that Jesus will be taking us home can sustain us through this time. To the world, however, our hope seems like foolishness, like waiting for snow to fall on Bangkok (it literally feels like I'm in a sauna all the time). The time is coming when we'll be waiting in the airport, when God's presence seems far off, a time when the world will mock us and try their best to take us on a taxi ride to somewhere down under. Perhaps we'll even have to stand alone. Don't loose hope, though, He's coming soon; He keeps His promises.

The Venns showered me with tastes of Heaven - a clean, spacious place to live, plenty of food, books, and more. I am so thankful to God for them.

I don't know why God created the rambutan. I don't know why I waited an hour alone in the Bangkok airport. I don't know why He does what He does, but I do know:

"For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways," says the Lord. "For as the Heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:8-9

Oh, by the way, rambutan are kind of tasty, in a slimy sort of way.