I was already far out of my comfort zone.

My landlord had invited me over to her friends house, and to the best of my knowledge, she hadn't told her friend I was coming.

No one seemed to mind, and they just handed me a plate of sticky rice.

I sat there watching to figure out how they eat this food. Today, we were all eating with our hands.

I have no idea if I'm being rude by being there, or if my inability to eat with my hands deftly is me being rude. Or maybe I'm not being rude at all. It's always kind of a toss up. 

One thing was certain, I was NOT going to get full at this meal.

After they are slightly bored with testing my knowledge of the Thai language, they start asking me questions about what I do, and when I work.

The conversation quickly turned to what I do on the weekends. I tell them that I go to church on Sunday.

They are now very interested in this, and the questions start coming.

In my head I hear the prayer I had just taken to the father not an hour earlier : "God where are you working? I want to be in on THAT."

Police interrogators could learn a lesson from Thais, because the questions NEVER stop.

They ask me about the list of rules. The 10 commandments. Two of the people here already know the name of Christ. 

I start to stammer them out, and I realize as I'm doing this they're telling me how it compares to buddhism. 

My landlord, is a self proclaimed "bad buddhist", while her friend is a very good one.

It gets late and it's time to leave. I'm invited to come back any time I am hungry. 

God could be showing me an open door. Or maybe a person of peace.

Maybe at some point, I can direct these people to the Bread of Life when they get hungry.