Mara is on mission in Thailand.

Thien leads me down our soi and we are followed by a rowdy bunch of kids who are eager to accompany us to where we’re going, even if they walk past our destination every day on their own. Reaching the end of our soi, we cross the wide drainage canal by a wooden plank and continue around the corner. Soon we have arrived at a doorstep with no door, and as we step forward, I see a large rat scurry out of the inner room, apparently not too fond of our visit. With this sobering welcome, I brace myself for what and who we will find inside.

About 50, Lung Bak is lying on a bare mattress on the floor with all his possessions within an arm’s reach. Clothed in only a shirt and diaper, he slowly sits up to welcome us. “Sawadeekha!” Astonishingly, each of the children who have followed us in respectfully greet and bow to Lung Jak – a small miracle considering their usual lack of proper manners. We sit cross-legged on the floor next to his mattress to visit with him. Thien explains that Lung Jak fell ill two years ago and since then has been in this state – before, he worked for the post office, but now he cannot walk and can barely speak. The neighbor brings him food and helps to change him, but apart from this kindness, he is very much alone.

As I listen to their slow conversation without understanding, his gaze shifts to me, and though his eyes are foggy, they are piercing. They offer me an invitation and beg me to accept it: See me for who I am, not for my situation! See the strength that hides behind my dependence on others! See my hopes, my ideas, see the life that I’ve lived! I am more than my poverty, I am more than my sickness! I am a man! Please, do not reduce me to an object of your pity.

Lung Jak’s invitation humbled me and in it I felt my own poverty, my own weakness, my own cry that mingled with his – the first and deepest cry of the human heart: to be seen and loved. Put simply, to have a friend. Through Lung Jak I was reminded of what my mission here is with Con-solatio: to enter into the lives and hearts of the people here, to know them, to walk with them.