Jesus loves the Vietnamese as much as me

i just came back from a 2.5 week STM trip to thailand and vietnam. it was my 3rd trip into thailand, but 1st time in 'nam. vietnam was not what i expected. our mission was based in ho chi minh city, also known as saigon. apparently there's over 10 million people living there! i was amazed at all the motorcycles...never seen anything like it in my life. i had the thot: there must be as many motorcycles as there are people. not quite, but how about 4 million motorcycles? unreal. that's more motorcycles than people who live in toronto!
you would be shocked to see what people carry on their motorcycles too. i think i took about 20 pictures of things that would get your arrested in canada! from a load of lumber to a family of 5 - including a newborn baby - i saw it all. i starting thinking about the coffeetable book i could make called: what people carry on their motorcycles in asia! i think it would be a best seller! i would give all the proceeds to missions, i promise.
as we fought the morning traffic on our way to speak at a youth leader's camp in HCM city, i got to thinking about all of these vietnamese people on their motorcycles. i wondered: where are they all going? do they all have somewhere important to be? who are they? why are there so many of them? do they have families? do they have worries? do they know stress like i'm feeling right now having to speak somewhere? do they have jobs? do they have homes?
while i was thinking this, my wife blurts out: "Jesus loves all those Vietnamese people as much as he loves us". it hit me hard. i've never really thot that way. sometimes i think Jesus must really love me, maybe a bit more than others since i'm doing his work. at least he loves me more than buddhists, right? like, pentecostals come before communists, don't they? it is something very hard for me to conceive at times, that God has just as much interest in a Vietnamese market worker than he does in me. he doesn't love me any more than someone i zoom by on their motorcycle, or say: "i don't want to buy your t-shirt" to.
her comment stuck with me. i looked at those vietnamese on their motorcycles differently from that point. i started feeling less important in my little world, and less stressed. i'm important to God, but not better than anyone else. my salvation and relationship with my Creator doesn't put me to the front of the line. i'm no better or valuable or more special than a street vendor in a far away land.
kind of sobering. kind of refreshing. kind of world-view expanding.
thanks for the wake-up call, motorcycles!