The market is abuzz with people.
Music is playing, people are talking, selling, shopping, eating.
I'm crammed into a tiny table about to enjoy my soup, when another white person sits at my table.
I almost immediately start talking to him, and as I do, it's as if everything else is put on hold.
My brain is working on how we can talk about spiritual stuff, when I pretty much throw caution to the wind and ask him directly about spiritual matters.
So we talk. The English I'm hearing is quietly drowning out the Thai sounds around me that I normally fight so hard to understand. At this moment, I'm back at home, trying to share my faith.
Our conversation extends long past the life of our soup.
He essentially stops me in my tracks when revealing he believes in a god, but can't tell me any attributes of it, and shrugs it off with a "I'm just not that interested in religious things."
As we exchange goodbyes I inform him that I pray he reconsiders or at least examine Christianity more.
As he turns to go my Thai brain starts turning back on, and he and I become just more foreigners in the scene.
Pray with me for Simon.