We wove in and out of tiny back alleyways, searching for a small house church tucked away in a dingy part of downtown Bangkok's lower middle class housing district. The heat and humidity were constant reminders that I was a long way from the cool, crisp air of approaching fall back in Montana. I was in the middle of a ten-day trip to visit friends who have served as missionaries in Thailand the last five years.

We drove past numerous street vendors cooking up smells that would tempt anyone with a penchant for international cuisine. After several cell phone calls to clarify directions, we arrived at a small, neat, little classroom full of Thai students. They were singing songs and eagerly awaiting our arrival. The little school, tucked unobtrusively between a laundry and a small restaurant, offers English language classes during the week, and becomes a makeshift Adventist church each Sabbath. Most of the students gladly attend the church services, since they provide an extra opportunity to expand their English skills, but they also find welcome truths that nourish their hungry souls.

I was asked to teach the Sabbath school class that morning, and was excited to find out that as I taught in English my words would be translated into Thai. It was the first time I had the opportunity to teach or preach through a translator, and I found that it's actually an enjoyable experience.

The week's lesson was the story of the prophet Hosea and his wife Gomer. Arguably one of the more colorful stories in the Bible, I was a bit hesitant at first about how to share it with this class of new believers and would-be English speakers.

When I asked the class, "How many of you are familiar with the story of Hosea and Gomer?" I received blank stares, and realized I was entering new Biblical territory.

I asked them to read the highlights of Hosea's story directly from their Thai Bibles. And as the powerful story of betrayal and redemption unfolded there in that little classroom halfway around the world, it was clear that its meaning was not lost on my students. I listened as they read aloud. The strange-sounding phrases meant nothing to me, but it was obvious the theme was hitting its mark on their hearts. Heads nodded in approval, and smiles formed on each face.

Then one lady who had been quietly taking it all in raised her hand to speak. "It isn't fair," she told me through my translator. "This lady left her husband and gave her love to another, and then he bought her back anyway."

Another quickly raised her hand to agree with the first.

I had to agree with them. And it's also not fair that God has sent His Son to die in our places—for your sins and mine. But that's the beauty of the story. That's what Amazing Grace means.

As we sang the words of that familiar hymn a few minutes later—some singing in Thai, some in English—the beautiful blend of voices made me realize that God's love is the same in any language. The same Amazing Grace that touches hearts here in North America also touches hearts on the other side of the world.

If you haven't read the story of Hosea lately, take a few moments to read it. It's fairly short, but the meaning is clear—no matter what language you happen to read it in.

Mark Bond designs the Lake Union Herald from his home in Missoula, Montana.