Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. May.
Be kind to your neighbor. We hear this time and time again. From first grade Sunday School to buying a house with your spouse, we have always been taught to honor the people we walk beside in our lives. God has once again brought to life a saying that I have always read, but rarely put into practice. He has placed a certain someone in my life who has exemplified this golden truth as I live out my last month as a World Race missionary, here in our eleventh country of Malaysia.
I type this to you as my laptop sits on a small table with a checkered tablecloth and Maroon Five plays over the loud speakers. I look around and see neatly framed posters of James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, and Elvis Presley, accompanied with blue walls and red ceilings. The white stars lining the ceiling seals the essence of Americana that the restaurant called Kennedy's is trying to portray. On our eleventh month on the race, the Lord brings us to America, in Malaysia, in the form of a restaurant. We are working at a restaurant called Kennedy's, pioneered by past racers, and promoting it throughout the community. My team is spread out all over this town, everywhere from teaching at the Burmese refugee school, to hanging out with students at the local campus, to waitressing at this innovative restaurant smack dab in the Westernized city of Kuala Lumpur.
But what I want to chat with you about has nothing to do with our ministry. Right next door to our little restaurant is a teashop. The very first day we came to the Kennedy's, I noticed the soothing water fountains and cool green colors of the interior of our neighbor's building. Stepping a little closer, a short, caramel-colored Pakistani man with a big, bright smile waved and motioned for me and my teammate Emily to come over. We shrugged our 'Why Nots?' and meandered over to his restaurant. From that day forward, we spent most mornings trying all types of teas and different types of honey. We winced at the bitter teas, nodded politely at the warm, unsweetened "woman's teas," and cocked our head blankly at the ten-year old honey spoonfuls. Everyday we would waltz over and be greeted by our new friend, Shah, and surprised by the different types of warmed beverages he would bring out for us to try.
After about a week, we started bringing food from our American restaurant for him to try, and he started making us delicious Pakistani treats. We tasted a gamut of foods, from caramelized, sugared raisins, to baked eggplant with steamed veggies, and the most interesting rice I've ever put in my mouth. It tasted like he put cinnamon or a sweet ginger spice in it. One day he made us thick, round portions of whole-wheat naan bread, and we ate it with a thin, round, pepper and onion-filled omelet. My mouth literally started to water thinking back to how savory this combination tasted.
The most heart-warming part of this story is that we have not seen one customer enter his restaurant this entire month. Every day he sits on one of the beautiful, hand-made wooden swivel chairs and looks out of his glass door for us to walk by. He gives the first of his fruits freely to his neighbors, even when he is not seeing a steady flow of customers. He's looking from someone not only to fill up his chairs, but someone to share in life with. We couldn't be any more different; he is Muslim, we are Christians. He is from Pakistan; we are from America. He works at a tea and honey shop; we are traveling missionaries, but we live together. We walk through life together and share in our meals, our traditions, and passions as three very different and separated people.
The mornings we walk next door and share in life with Shah are some of the most heart felt and touching moments I've had on this race. We've shared our hearts, experiences, and God's love with him and all it took was one day saying 'yes' to a house visit. This wasn't part of our plan or scheduled in our ministry, but we made time for it. We made time for a person, and it's made our time here more precious than any scheduled work would. That's how God works. He doesn't run off of a schedule, or a plan, He runs off of how the Spirit leads. So I encourage you, follow that leading. It might lead you to thick, ten-year old honey, a good conversation or the most delicious meal you have ever had. But I do promise you; the fruits of your time invested will be worth it. J
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