by B. D. Riehl
At least Suchin thought she would be happy. And she was. She had never imagined happiness before, and the further she got from her old life, the more it faded and became an awful memory of a nightmare she once had.
But her dreams of the white elephant returned, each night, more vivid than the last. And after Jane had taught her of the death and resurrection, when Jesus reached out, the scars on His hands glowed like lightning bolts against a black sky.
Chapter Forty-Two
Suchin was apprehensive of the worship time at first. From the first week that she had been rescued, a small cluster of volunteers had been seen throughout the campus. They were usually working on the grounds, digging ditches, painting the side fence, leveling a field that would soon be used for what Pim called “soccer.” One of her first nights in the living space, she heard the girls talking about the volunteers helping with the Light Festival decorations. After that, they mostly kept to themselves.
She saw them crying, praying, and clinging tight to one another. For almost two weeks they worked quietly, mostly staying back from Suchin and the others. That night, however, they announced plans to hold a small worship time, a concert. The young man, tall and blond, unlike any man Suchin had seen, with his a friendly smile and green eyes, carried a guitar with him most places. She had heard him playing in the night, off in a corner of the grounds, usually after everyone had gone to bed. His music was lovely, and once in a while, his soft voice could be heard drifting toward the house on the breeze.
Suchin had grown comfortable at the home, at school, and even in the jewelry shop. She was most at home in the kitchen and often volunteered to cook for her housemates that didn’t like that duty as much. Pim noticed and asked Suchin if she’d like to attend culinary training someday; Suchin had readily agreed.
Pim hugged her, warm and proud, and told her to get to work on her English. Suchin groaned good-naturedly. English was difficult for her. The sounds were hard to pronounce, and she didn’t understand how one word could mean so many things, like “trunk.”
She was thriving. Still content to listen to talk of Jesus, but her heart ached to know Him herself.
School and work had been cancelled for a few days to celebrate the light festival. Suchin was nervous about going to the river with so many strangers; her heart would pound when she thought of it. Pim assured her they would be safe, that the staff would surround them, and it would be a fun time.
Before the festival began the next day, they would have a time of worship. Suchin had heard the girls talk about such a time, but she’d never experienced it. While she was nervous to be close to the others, she felt excitement at listening to the young man sing. His voice and the words he sang, while she didn’t understand them, stirred her soul in the same way that Scripture did when the other girls read aloud.
That morning, Suchin concentrated on the little elephants she had cut out of scraps of paper. She would tuck them into the Krathong that she had made out of banana leaves to set free on the water the next day. The crudeness of the elephant shapes reminded her of her dream from the night before.
Suchin’s dreams had become increasingly persistent: the white elephant, the beach, Jesus and His pierced hands. Last night the beast had been back in the lush forests of her homeland. The Son of God had been dressed as a King, alone in a large clearing, waiting: a purple robe flowing behind Him; a crown of gold on His head.
The elephant was pursued by hundreds of angry men and women, poking, prodding, scratching, and tearing, all grabbing for a piece of the magnificent animal. It ran and ran and ran, until it was chased into the clearing.
The elephant halted between Him and the mob, looking between them, unsure—afraid. Suchin wanted the elephant to run to the One that was safe and trustworthy. When the elephant hesitated, Suchin saw for the first time that it wasn’t a white elephant after all. Just a plain one, small and insignificant in comparison to what her dreams had led her to believe it was.
Still, she wanted it safe and wondered why so many wanted a piece of it. Why, in light of the elephant’s insignificance, did Jesus slowly walk to it, not tearing or grabbing, but stroking its head in fond affection?
The mob still thrashed each other in effort to claim the animal, but appeared unable to get to it. Jesus took the sash that was wrapped around his robe and looped it around its neck in ownership. The act was so beautiful Suchin awoke with tear-stained cheeks.
She kept her eyes trained on her work. Her mind played the dream over and over in her mind while she rhythmically sliced her scissors through the paper, rough images of elephant profiles piling next to her on the table.
Would placing these cutouts in a banana boat and sending it down the river the next night rid herself of the haunting dreams?
There was a bustling sound as two women in the group of volunteers, who had mostly kept their distance in the time they’d been there, filed in.
The youngest one, a girl that only looked to be five or so years older than Suchin, came to sit next to Suchin and offered a meek smile. Suchin admired her purple-rimmed glasses that sparkled at the edges. The smile, although small, was genuine, but Suchin saw sadness in the girl’s eyes and wondered at it.
Maybe she was just homesick. In class, they were studying geography. Suchin hadn’t known how big the world was before. She felt she would never comprehend it.
Suchin knew this group was from the United States, a place very, very far away. The girl sat next to Suchin, picked up a pair of scissors, set them down again, reached for the rice paper, pulled back, and finally settled her hands in her lap.
Suchin sensed her sadness. Unsure if it would be appropriate or not, she reached for her hand. The dark-haired teen looked up in surprise, then appreciation; she squeezed Suchin’s hand back. They sat that way, hand in hand, heart in heart, until the group was directed to another room.
Jane had come into the room near the end of the visit and made her way to Suchin when the others cleared out. “Looks like you made a friend,” Jane commented, with a wink.
Suchin shrugged, looked down at the table. “She seems sad.”
Jane bobbed her head up and down. “It’s nice to have them here. I think they are tired, though.” Jane didn’t think it wise to tell Suchin, who she knew was apprehensive about going outside of Deliverance’s walls tomorrow, about the kidnapping.
***
The girls at the safe house had wondered at the presence of the volunteers, wondered more why they were so somber and kept their distance. Jane had been evasive in her answers. She wanted to protect the hearts of these healing ones, and also wanted to give the Americans space to process what was happening.
Paul had shared with Jane that the teens, Luke and Michelle, led worship at their home church. She knew Luke had a guitar with him and, thinking it could help the girl’s souls greatly, had asked if they would lead a time of worship before the festivities the following day. Luke and Michelle had readily agreed, obviously anxious for a distraction beyond physical labor. Mike and Patsy were able to have money wired from their family and friends to host a special American BBQ for everyone. The campus buzzed with excitement.
Jane watched Suchin cut shapes for lantern decorations, and wondered if Suchin knew that she hummed while she cut her paper. Jane was amazed by the growth in Suchin. She had come such a long way. Jane only wished she knew what held her back from accepting Christ personally. She knew Suchin adored Him, listened close in chapel and soaked up everything she could about Him. What held her back from embracing Him, Jane was sure, was Suchin’s own insecurity and shame over the life Suchin had been forced into.
Jane watched Suchin cut out a few more elephants before Jane picked one up and fingered it. “So you like elephants, huh?” She asked.
This wasn’t uncommon in Thailand; elephants were held in high esteem.
“Mmm-hmm.”
Something in Suchin’s hesitant response made Jane’s counselor radar pop up. “Is there more to it than that, Su
chin?” she asked, treading carefully.
Suchin continued to cut and set paper aside. The rest of the girls were chattering, busy assembling Krathongs and paper lanterns. No one was listening, but Jane thought Suchin might speak more freely in private.
“Want to go on a walk?”
***
Outside in the sunshine, Suchin finally told Jane about the dreams she’d been having since she was first kidnapped years ago.
“Please don’t think I’m crazy,” the young girl whispered. “I see Jesus in the dreams. Ever since the night I was rescued, I see Him and His scarred hands and feet. Until…”she looked sidelong at Jane, who walked with her fingers tucked casually in her jean pockets.
She stopped and faced Suchin. “Until what, sweetie?”
Suchin told her about the dream from last night. “But it didn’t make sense. All this time it’s been a white elephant, and I haven’t seen anyone else in the dream. Since I’ve been rescued, Jesus is always there reaching out. But I wake up before the elephant goes to Him. Last night so many others were chasing her. Jesus stepped out in front of her and held the pursuers back. You could tell she didn’t want to trust Him, but He calmed her and put His sash around her. But she was just a plain, small elephant. I was cutting out the papers because the moment He placed His sash around her was so beautiful.”
Jane stopped and took in the sky. Clear blue wisps of clouds stretched out, moving slowly across the broad expanse. Oh, Lord, give me words for this little one of Yours.
“I’m no interpreter of dreams, Suchin. I know there were men in the Bible that God revealed the meaning of dreams to, so I know God can use dreams to tell people about Himself or of things to come.” She grew quiet, and then spoke when a thought occurred to her. “Suchin, what do you know of white elephants?”
The girl smiled, a look of far-off adoration lit her eyes. “My neighbor used to tell me of them. She said they were beautiful. White as the clouds in the sky. Radiant. Sacred. Holy. A being on its final stages to Nirvana.” She lowered her lashes, and her smile faded. “Of course, I don’t believe that part anymore. But I know they are beautiful and rare.”
Jane agreed. “Yes, they are rare. I saw a picture of a few once; the King has a collection of them in his stables. They are not actually white.”
“Oh?” she asked, surprised.
“No. They have distinguishing features and can be lighter skinned. But I think the significance in this case, Suchin, is that they are rare and special. So rare and special, in fact, that if one is found and identified, they are automatically the property of the king.”
Suchin smiled. “Well, that makes sense.”
Jane leaned in close, hoping to make this clear. “Suchin, I believe the reason this animal is in your dreams is because it’s you. You are the rare and special one that the King takes ownership of, as soon as you let Him capture you.”
Suchin shook her head, confused, unsure. Still, a slight fluttering took over her insides. “I don’t understand. The animal that Jesus wrapped His sash around was just a plain elephant.”
“Maybe,” Jane said. “Maybe. But you said that was the only time the animal has been chased down, pursued, and attacked. And that was the animal Jesus cherished this time, right?”
Suchin felt a chill as a large cloud drifted in front of the sun, casting them in shadow. Jane placed a motherly hand to her shoulder. This girl, who had come to them just weeks ago with a swollen face, black eyes, cracked ribs, stringy hair and malnourished body, was filling out nicely the way a twelve-year-old girl should. Her coloring was warm, light brown, sun-kissed and healthy. Her hair shone bright blue-black even in the shadow cast by the cloud. Jane knew that Suchin had a long road ahead of her, that her heart and soul were still sick and weary. She reached out to tuck a silky strand of hair behind the young girl’s ear.
“Suchin, we’ve talked a lot about your life. About where you’ve been, what your life was like in the village. We’ve talked about Christ and His love for you. I know that’s hard for you to accept. I know you adore Him and believe in Him, but will you trust Him as Your Lord and Savior? Will you do what you told me you wanted the elephant in your dream to do? Will you turn from your fears of the past and embrace Him? Allow Him to take you into His possession?”
Suchin closed her eyes, her dream so vivid before her. Could it be true; that He would care for someone as insignificant as her?
She sensed Jane come closer, felt her arm around her, and heard her whispered prayer. “Show her, Lord, show her that You love her so much and died for her. That if there had been no one else, only Suchin, that still, You would have hung on the cross in her place.”
Suchin’s heart joined the prayer, and in the instant it took for the cloud to pull back and the sun to shine bright and clear again, she knew.
She opened her eyes and grasped onto Jane in joy and disbelief.
“It is me! I’m His elephant! Not because of me or anything I’ve done, but just because He can and He loves me!” She jumped up and down, squealing as only a twelve-year-old could, radiant.
Jane laughed and jumped with her in the bright sunshine.
Girls began to walk out of the building on their way to the worship concert. They looked inquisitively at the jumping, lively Suchin, normally so quiet and reserved. Suchin ran to the mass of friends that were quickly becoming her sisters.
“I’m His precious elephant! I am property of the King!” she shouted.
They laughed with her, completely confused, but relishing her exuberance. She would tell them that night all that she had learned, but for now, Jane knew. And Suchin knew. And God knew. And that was enough.
Suchin could hardly sit still through worship. The brunette with the sad eyes led them in song with the blond young man. She had a strong, deep voice, and Suchin was in awe of the sounds around her—the happiness buzzing inside of her. She’d been to a few chapel sessions, but only listened with curiosity.
Now Suchin sang as a child of God, fully aware that her being was created to praise. The room vibrated with their combined joy and admiration for the Lord. In this room of rescued slaves, beaten and raped, ripped open and laid bare before men that cared for nothing but their own sick satisfaction, these girls overflowed with thanksgiving for their Savior. Strong and sure of their hope in Him alone, they, with hands and voices raised high, stood together before Him, proclaiming His goodness as no one else on earth could.
Michelle and Luke led the songs, but the young women before them raised the standard of joy and allegiance. For the first time since Lydia had been kidnapped, Michelle felt light, full of hope. God moved in that place, His presence heady and real. Tears rolled down Michelle’s cheeks in gratitude.
He was near and He was mighty.
Chapter Forty-Three
The days passed in a blur for Kiet. He sought every opportunity to train in preparation for the fight, but every door he pursued slammed in his face. As he’d suspected, no trainer would touch him. He had gone into the jungle on his own, hoping to practice movement, knowing that his muscle memory would kick in after a lifetime of fighting. Instead, he had fallen to the ground exhausted, emotionally spent, incapable of movement. Seeing the Lord’s hand at work, stopping his every attempt to rescue Lydia himself, Kiet had finally surrendered all heaviness and anger to the Lord.
He went back to the campus, to the small dorm room where he usually stayed, and fell into bed—drained. Sometime in the middle of the night, he had fallen on his face, painfully aware that he had been climbing back into his old skin. Chanarong had gotten to him, and he was angry, fired up and ready to come out swinging. The results be damned, he would get his hits in.
The sweet memory of Lydia’s reaction to the joy-filled Deliverance rescues stopped him cold. If not for God’s work in their lives, would she have ever embraced His grace?
She had found the light in the darkness. Now that she was in danger, out of his control, would he now turn from the same light that had fou
nd him?
No.
Kiet spent hours relinquishing his thoughts, surrendering control to the only One who really had it in the first place. And following those hours of surrender, God finally revealed Kiet’s role to him. How the Lord could be glorified in this: That Lydia was His child and He would be responsible for her well-being, not Kiet. That Deliverance was His project, and He would be responsible for it. That this fight was not Kiet’s, but the Lord’s. And He revealed to Kiet just what to do.
During the two weeks before the fight, Kiet and the Deliverance staff and volunteers spent time in prayer and meditation upon the Scriptures. The day of the festival, Kiet learned that Lydia’s group had gathered in a small room praying and worshipping together, after they hosted a BBQ the night before. He felt the strength of their prayers. He hoped Lydia could feel them too.
The day crept by. He heard the gay chatter of the Deliverance girls prepping to enjoy the festival. The reporters had discovered what Deliverance campus stood for and quickly relocated so as not to tarnish their report of the big fight.
Kiet prayed for those placing bets even now, prayed for the lost trapped in bars and brothels, waiting for their meeting with Deliverance. He prayed God would shake open the doors, set the captives free.
He wept for Lydia and confessed his feelings for her to the Lord and implored that she also be set free. Mostly, he prayed over and over that God would be glorified.
As the evening sun set and an orange haze blanketed his room, Paul knocked on his door.
“It’s time, Kiet.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Lydia could not stop thinking about Elijah. Her mind swirled with the memory of his challenge to the priests of Baal.
“Prepare an altar,” he said. “Call upon Baal to light the fire of his altar,” he told them.
The priests called and called for Baal to send down fire, to show his power. Nothing happened, and Elijah began to mock them. “Did you call loud enough; maybe he can’t hear you!” he scoffed. “Perhaps he is asleep!”