We followed the signs and wound up with a platter of food from a stranger.
We’d just struck out at a yard sale on the south side of town. We plugged in our GPS to the next one, but as we were leaving the neighborhood we saw another sign. You know the sign I’m talking about. The highlighter yellow yard sale sign.
I almost stuck to the GPS – I thought we were almost done anyways. But we turned around in the middle of the road. I followed the arrows and we wound up here: at a Southeast Asian family’s home, selling items by donation to support their church.
They greeted us with joyous smiles in the driveway. I could hear laughter further up the drive as others bustled around us.
I started to peruse, but turned around to see one of the men showing a large bamboo stick to Austin and Travis. I joined just in time to hear him say this is what people use to carry water back home.
“Where are you from?” I asked him. My favorite question.
“Lao country, and my wife is Thai,” he answered. Almost on cue, his wife showed up beaming beside him. I saw in them the same sense of love for their heart country, but gratitude to be in the States with us, that I see in the people I work with.
I lit up as I told them about my brief days in his beautiful home country all those years ago. My few days there is nothing compared to the life he began there, but it was a starting point. A chance to understand this stranger’s world a little better. A chance to tell him that I respect his story at its roots.
This Laotian man opened up and shared about the flooding devastation that his friends & family back home are dealing with. The country is still recovering from a flood that occurred 3 years ago, which displaced thousands of people. There was another flood just a few days ago that tore through communities, tearing down homes and ravaging farmlands.
He didn’t have to say it, but we knew the poverty of the Lao country makes disasters like that much more difficult to come out of.
“That’s why we do this yard sale. To send money to help them, and to help our church on Bell Road,” he said, giving us directions to his congregation. Before he turned to resume helping his family and other customers, he thanked us and we thanked him too.
We perused our way to end of the driveway, and inhaled deeply. Smells of chicken and fried food filled the air. There on the patio was a group of women busy cooking at an outdoor, makeshift kitchen. One gave us an egg roll to try – one she called “not pretty” and refused to have us pay for. Not that I needed the free sample. I was already sold.
She filled our plates with sticky rice, chicken on sticks, and egg rolls. I wish I’d been brave enough to try to papaya salad at 8:00 AM, but we were fully satisfied with the warm platters stacked in our arms. And I realized as we walked back to the car that everyone in the family wore different colored shirts with the same word printed on it: faith.
We savored the food in the car on the drive back home, oddly encouraged that this is what we’d come for.
I thought we’d come for arms full of clothes, trinkets, and home goods. I thought we’d come for the kind of treasures you can only find at a yard sale.
But we’d actually come for a plate of food from a stranger. Bold, I know.
We came to meet a neighbor and hear more of their stories. We came to try something new. We came to encourage our brothers and sisters in Christ, and to support their ability to love those in their circles even from the other side of the globe. I don’t know anyone affected by flooding in Lao, but they do. And I got to play a small role in helping them share the love of Christ to them.
We didn’t come for stuff, but for the people we’d meet along the way. I’m certain of it.
And isn’t that how a yard sale for the glory of God works? It’s not about the stuff, but an opportunity to dig a little deeper into the community.
Look, I love a good yard sale find as much as you. There’s something thrilling about the story that comes with a well-loved item at a great price. I won’t deny it. But not even our most prized yard sale finds will go to the grave with us. You can quote me on this: stuff is stuff.
For the glory of God, we go to yard sales.
For the glory of God, we go to these places to greet a neighbor and encourage someone with a word, and to marvel at the stories they’re willing to share. We start conversations we might not have started otherwise, and learn something new from a place of humility.
Yard sale, garage sale, rummage – whatever the word is in your side of town, I hope that you stop by sometime. I hope you follow the signs just for the sheer joy of meeting a neighbor.
I followed the signs today, and wound up full in belly and spirit. This platter of authentic Southeast Asian food was a pleasing aroma to the Lord for more than one reason.