Holding Back the Rain

The following was recently written by Rachel Schrock during her time on the mission field in Thailand. We pray it will be a challenge to you all. –Editor 

It is the rainy season in Thailand.

This means that thunderstorms gather and rainclouds burst almost without warning. You get used to walking under umbrellas.

Today was overcast and wondrously cool. There were scattered rain showers off and on. But today was end-of-term Solitude Day, so I spent it cozied up inside the Cafe Mong Pearl with my journal and 2 very large iced mochas.

[Let the rain come down. I've got a pen in one hand and a coffee in the other. It doesn't get too much better than this.]

A few hours later, I stepped outside of Big C (Thai equivalent of Wal-Mart) and into the warm, wet applause of sparkling, over-sized raindrops.

Clutching my meager purchases, I made a dash for the breezeway leading out to the main road. I stood under a tree and regretted that I would forget to bring an umbrella, and waited for a yellow song-theaw to transport me home.

Two raced by before I could get there in time to wave them down.

So I waited.

And [got wet while I] waited.

And waited.

Meanwhile, the thunder rolled and lightning flashed.

Once, a brilliant flash of electricity bolted down the metal post of the breezeway about 20 feet away. The ground shook as an ear-splitting crash of thunder echoed simultaneously. I tasted metal and decided to move away from the tree.

Finally, as the rainfall increased to a deluge, oh blessed sight–a flash of yellow amidst the gray and wetness. I scrambled aboard, glad to be in out of the wet.

The song-theaw dropped me where it always does. I dashed through ankle-deep rivers running along the side of the road, threw 10 baht through the passenger’s side window and ducked into a basket-weaver’s shop. Rush-hour traffic roared by with no let-up in sight. The basket-weaver’s roof is in dire need of repair. Rain dripped through and blew in the open sides, spraying me thoroughly.

It was great.

But it was going to be a long run back to IGo [Institute for Global Opritunities] in the downpour.

About that time, a Thai man ambled slowly past, carrying a tattered pink umbrella. I noticed him because he was the only other person out in the storm. He passed by, giving me a cursory glance, and then shuffling on, head down. I thought he looked sad. There was no smile as he came and went, slipping by into the sheets of rain.

I huddled under the leaking tin lean-to, wondering where the shop owner was. There were amazing baskets and great huge rice mats. I was thinking about how much I would like to come back and buy one…about how wonderful my day of solitude had been…and about the fact that even though it was raining, I was deeply, warmly happy.

Minutes had gone by and there was still no let-up insight–of rain, or traffic. So I turned from my brief explore through the piles of baskets and rice mats, back to the entrance of the little 3-walled shop.

And suddenly, there was the man with the pink umbrella.

He gestured at me and then across the street. I know little Thai. But somehow he knew I needed to get across. He had come back to offer me his umbrella.

“Kap kun ka!” I thanked him, delighted that he was going to escort me across under the shelter of his umbrella.

But he didn’t.

Instead, this man who I had thought sad, handed me the faded, pink umbrella, and walked away into the downpour. I stood there feeling speechless and watched him go, thinking that people aren’t always what we expect.

Sometimes we see tattered people, and miss the gold of their soul.

This simple act of kindness and sacrifice blessed me beyond words. I had barely noticed this man…and yet he had noticed me and come back to minister to my need.

As I crossed the street in the dry, under his umbrella that was broken and full of pinprick holes; held together by tape in multiple places, I realized that something special had happened. Whether he knew it or not, that man had been Jesus to me.

And I couldn’t help but wonder…

If he had been the one stuck in the rain….would I have offered my umbrella?