The Occasional Post

Hints of Thailand on a Winter Evening

2012-02-11T07:14:00.000-08:00

Outside it was cold and snowy... inside, there were unmistakable smells of Thai cooking.

Well, someone's version of Thai cooking.

The occasion was a fundraiser for our private school, and these brave folks bought tickets to a Thai supper.

My respect for them knows no bounds. They even used the fish sauce.

Couldn't resist taking them for a little ride.

I believe I heard a few exclamations of horror and some rapid paper flipping.

I have, of all things, promised one gentleman that I will indeed bring him a few fried cockroaches and grubs when I return next year. He said it would be the best thing he got all year. He, my friends, ate the fish sauce straight up. I'm guessing he would thrive in Thailand.

Cashew Chicken

Egg Rolls and Stir Fried Vegetables

Limeade {well, almost}

Creme Brulee

I Timothy 5: 18: "For the Scripture says, "Do not muzzle the ox while it is treading out the grain," and "The worker deserves his wages." They did not tread on the Thai food, but they did serve it. And they even dressed the part. Aren't they handsome? :)

Too many egg rolls, Jon? Kudos to mom for her hard work in getting all of this together!

And kudos to the lovely Dani, who, although she is almost 9 months pregnant, stuck with me the entire day, washing mountains of dishes and following all my orders and even ordering me around some. :) It wouldn't have been half as fun or even a success without her.

This is my favorite shot, though. This picture tells a thousand words. There was laughter and tears (the peppers were hot!). There were stories and fascinating topics to discuss. It was a wonderful group of people to serve, and I am sure again, that no matter how far I travel, and no matter how life will invariably bring distance and separation, these are some of my favorite people. And I am honored to call them friends.

Nappa Heads

2012-02-09T17:40:00.000-08:00

See? She looks like a rose. A little bit.

Ginger, on the other hand, has little to recommend her to anybody. She is warty and gnarly with a wrinkled skin. There is not much physical beauty to speak of, but oh, the good she will do for an upset stomach! She saved the day at more than one Bible camp.

No, I haven't gone daft, photographing random vegetables. I'm cooking Thai food tomorrow and did most of the prep work today. These are all part of the cast of characters. Even the green beans. All of God's creatures have a place in the fire... excuse me, "choir".

Check back in a day or so to see pictures of the ~~ordeal~~ event.

I think I've been having too much fun.

artichokes

2012-02-08T19:33:00.000-08:00

I'm a little bit in love with them.

I love their name.

I love their architecturally sound design.

I love that the more you peel away the tough outer leaves the softer they become.

I love that they have a heart.

I'm not sure yet if I love the taste of them... I've had them, and I simply can't remember. But for now I am content to look at artichokes, and to think that if God makes vegetables as beautiful as flowers, then maybe I've once again underestimated Him, and maybe if I take time to stare at carrots and celery and potatoes, who knows what I might find?! So if you come to our kitchen in the next couple of days and see someone with their nose right up next to some carrots, don't judge them... they just might be seeing things with new eyes. :)

Why, just the other day, I cut the end off of a head of Nappa Cabbage and was quite sure the piece I was about to discard resembled a rose. Quite.

running from comfort

2012-01-24T10:32:00.000-08:00

"People often ask if I think my life is dangerous, if I am afraid. I am much more afraid of remaining comfortable. Matthew 10:28 tells us not to fear things that can destroy the body but things that can destroy the soul. I am surrounded by things that can destroy the body. I interact almost daily with people who have deadly diseases, and many times I am the only person who can help them. I live in a country with one of the world's longest-running wars taking place just a few hours away. Uncertainty is everywhere. But I am living in the midst of the uncertainty and risk, amid things that can and do bring physical destruction, because I am running from things that can destroy my soul: complacency, comfort, and ignorance. I am much more terrified of living a comfortable life in a self-serving society and failing to follow Jesus than I am of any illness or tragedy."

-Katie Davis, Kisses from Katie

Sunday's Holy Ground

2012-01-23T07:31:00.000-08:00

I sit in a slightly crowded room, surrounded by beauty. Aching, breath-taking, holy beauty.

Maybe it's being away that has given me the luxury of a more focused lens, but I see it clearly now.

They are the women who have helped shape me. For years I have watched them pour out their lives so that others may live. It's a room full of mothers of all ages, shapes and sizes, and as they dare to open their hearts, one here, one there, I am suddenly overwhelmed by a gift that I never deserved, hardly realized was even there.

We talk about how we are quick to judge each other, and how wrong this is. Desire is laid bare, and we connect over it. Sin is acknowledged, and we nod and bow our hearts. Simple and profound truth is spoken. We drink it in.

Maybe it's just another Sunday School class to them. For me, it's holy ground.

Three years have taken me far away from home and into other countries and cultures. I have loved the adventure. I am deeply grateful to God for allowing me to have it. And I'm not done venturing and adventuring. But there is something in this room that I don't feel in many other places. It is the tightly woven fabric of women who have lived much of their lives in community, who have mothered each other's children, who held out their hands to each other, who have ~~fought~~ ~~disagreed~~ borne with each other's follies, and have learned a mutual respect and love that too many women will never know. I want to lay my head down on this tightly woven fabric and rest awhile. And I shall. They may never even know I'm there. :)

Thank-you to the ladies of Antrim who dare to live fully alive, right where they are.

Ms. Henri Nouwen

2012-01-21T17:49:00.000-08:00

I was talking with a friend the other day, and in trying to explain myself more fully, I attempted to quote ...Nouwen, I thought. I couldn't get it quite right, but she assured me that, yes, she thought it sounded like Nouwen, and what I was saying made perfect sense. Don't you love friends who read between the lines? :)

I went home and googled Nouwen to try to find what the quote was exactly, but didn't have any success. It wasn't until today that more lines from the "poem" came back to me. And then suddenly I had this sensation that it wasn't Nouwen at all. No, in fact... after only a few minutes of searching, I found that the author who expressed what I wanted to say better than I could was none other than my sister.

Compassion

One must bring all
Of one's self
To service.
The failures
And triumphs,
These shouts of joy
Or deep groans signaling grief,
The breathing,
Organic truth of us.
For it is this humanity which
Fosters in us a compassion
For those most needing
A Savior.

Those who live next to
The consciousness of their
Wretchedness,
Yet assured of Love,
Are by their knowledge
Made tender,
Gentled,
To allow the
Grace of God
To flow from them
In wide, cleansing streams.

-Rosita

Move aside, Nouwen. Make room on the philosopher's bench for Rosita. :) Yes, you were a Catholic priest, and she's a young Mennonite school teacher, but there's room enough on that bench for the both of you, is there not? And I know that calling her Ms. Henri Nouwen is a bit overdone, not to mention a misnomer (see the whole priest thing), but the thought tickled me so. Seeing as I have never read anything of yours firsthand, I'm not sure why I thought I could quote you. My googling of you did not turn up altogether profitable things, but I still respect that you were an honest man who allowed others to glimpse your journey with God. That honesty is what links you two, I think.

All foolishness aside, the thought that has been coming to me again and again the past several weeks is expressed so clearly in the first few lines of the second stanza. We are all so very human, and are called to worship, love, and serve in the middle of that humanity. We don't have the luxury of waiting until we've figured things out a bit more to begin to effectively demonstrate a walk of holiness. Plainly put, we mess up. It is sometimes terrifying to understand our weaknesses for what they are. But I don't think that was a monumental oversight on the part of our Creator. No, quite the contrary, one offers grace more effectively when one has fresh received it.

Can I honestly look myself full in the face and still say, "Here, Lord. Use me in any way you choose", knowing that He just might?

"Home" Again

2011-12-26T03:14:00.000-08:00

She eyes the blogging world, and decides to try and sneak back in sideways. 3 months between posts is almost enough to get you banned, she thinks, and wonders guiltily if anyone still pays attention to this corner of blogger world. She looks at the half-written, unpublished posts she started in the past months and decides to just go ahead and freshen up the latest one and hope nobody minds warmed up news. It is an odd dilemma to have so much to write about and find oneself quite at a loss for words. Or emotional energy. Or brain space to organize it all into decipherable paragraphs. But one must begin again, somehow.

Since I've rarely been able to sleep past 4:00 a.m. in the two weeks that I've been home, I decided it would be a good time to update the blog. 4:00 a.m.? Really? Maybe I turned over a new leaf without trying. Hallelujah.

It's been delightful to be "home", surrounded by the people I call my family. We wore a path to the Pittsburgh airport last week, picking up various vagrants from all over the world. We had all resigned ourselves to the fact that Jared wouldn't be coming from Canada, and were planning to send him a box with his share of the Christmas sugar as a consolation prize. Lo, and behold... he showed up on the eve of Christmas Eve and shocked us all. Well, all but Jamin, who knew for months and didn't tell us. Best Christmas Gift ever!

Being home in the place where your history is is a beautiful thing. You're surrounded by so many memories and by the people who've known you the longest. It's crazy how driving down familiar roads (especially in this beautiful part of the world) is almost... soothing. It is wonderful to see friends and church family and the relations you see every Christmas.

But it is a wistful sort of happy, because I've changed. Home is a shifty thing nowadays. With half of my heart on a continent a world away and half of my heart here it would be easy to go into survival mode. It is hard to live in the tension of what I've seen and experienced in Asia and what I know of our decadent lifestyle in America. I think I'm beginning to understand the missionaries I may have viewed with a critical eye in my youthful days, and it's humbling. Furloughs are tough times.

But I'm still sure of one thing: God is good. His plan is perfect, and His way is best.

***

2012 is almost upon us. I gave up New Year's Resolutions long ago. The guilt and shame of acknowledging the one week of kept resolutions up against the projected year of change come February simply aren't worth it. God's been working on me plenty in the last month or so anyhow, that resolutions seem sort of frivolous and after-thought-ish. Put surrender and humility on your list of things to ask God for and He will in due time oblige.

When I come to the end of another year at IGo, the same questions surface: Is it really worth it to get to know the students, especially the ladies, so well and to feel as though pieces of your heart are being torn from you when the goodbyes start? It is pretty much the one real downer of being part of the staff, and one that I didn't really expect. One needs a good month or two to "recover". There were times I have said no, it's not worth it (and proceeded to live out of that lie), but time and space have helped me to see a little more clearly, and I am able to thank God for the good gift that it was. Did I do it perfectly? No, certainly not. I think I failed more than i succeeded. But His grace is sufficient, really it is, and my life is so much richer because of the people He has brought into it, and I thank Him for it.

All this to say, that if I would make a resolution :), it would be the same as last years: To live life fully, hands opened to both sorrow and joy, pain and pleasure. To humbly accept His work in my life for what it is: grace and utmost love. And to share with others what I have received. From the standpoint of me, it looks pretty impossible, but the good news is:

"God is looking for people through whom He can do the impossible.
What a pity when we plan only the things we can do by ourselves." A.W. Tozer

I guess what I really want is what I've always really wanted, even when I didn't know it: I want to know Him. Considering the selfishness and pride that still factor largely into most of my decisions, and considering the way I regularly forget and try to do things on my own strength, it'll take a miracle. I have no idea how to change me.

So, here's to 2012, and miracles!

After all that resolution bashing: what are your resolutions for 2012? :) I'd love to hear from you.

two-stepping with Glory

2011-10-03T02:35:00.000-07:00

He gripped my hand and helped me to stand.

It was finally time to begin the Journey. I'd been telling Him of all the ways that I would be willing to serve Him. You, see, His gentle voice had finally gotten through to me, and I was beginning to understand my life. I realized that I was living in Pieza Numero Uno and the After This was the part that really mattered. I was ready to go into all the world and I was ready to give Him my all.

When my words finally stopped, I just stood. I stood for a very long time. They had told me I might have to wait a while to move, and I was ok with that. Until I began to cramp up with inactivity. Frustration and anger took their turns, followed by resignation. At times I doubted the Hand that had pulled me up to stand aware. Seeing reality was a start, but my journey to the Sorrowing waited.

I felt His touch on my shoulder, and knew the time had come. Joy lighting my eyes, I retied my running shoes and stretched. It was time, and I was ready. No one has ever begun a journey more ready than I was, and I was sure it would be worthy, and it would take me far.

I'm not sure when it was that we stopped. But one day I was just standing there alone, and He was gone. And when I was standing still, I had time to realize that this journey was nothing like what I had thought it would be. It was hard, and it was not so glorious. Dusk was setting in, and I flung about for His hand, sure that He had just been with me. How dare He bring me here and leave me to die?

That was a dark night when I realized many things, not the least of which was that I was one of the Sorrowing, and maybe my Journey was to me. And then as dawn stretched the sky, I saw Him standing there. He'd been there all along. The blindness was in me. I saw the hand He was holding out to me, and made a determined desperate grab.

Grace gripped back, and we set forth again. But slowly, and then we stopped, and then we made small, pointless circles. I could no longer hide my confusion. Wasn't there work to be done and lost to be saved? Didn't the Sorrowing wait? Surely movement was more holy than this.

I would never understand Him, I realized, and said things like "It's not my job to figure Him out." and "Will I ever?" and the holiest of all... "Probably not." I felt a tear on my hand and swiped at my eyes, surprised that I was crying.

But I wasn't. I looked up. Was HE the sorrowing? ...the Man of Sorrows acquainted with my grief and me seeing His for the first time?

The foundation of my earth shifts as the truth dawns on me: my Journey is to Him, and I have missed it. I was determined to travel a path, but with eyes opened wide I finally understand that He has been pulling me into a dance. It is a waltz of the most intricate nature, and we sway to ballads He writes, beautiful stories of which He is always the center. And it is good.

The Sorrowing watch, and they learn the dance too, and sometimes we all dance together. :) It is the dance of redemption. It is the way we touch glory and glory changes us. It is us learning to love as we learn to serve.

In the succinct words of J.R. Tolkein, "Not all who wander are lost." And to that I might add that, "no, some are learning to two-step with Glory."

*It is a shift for this girl to think of it as dancing instead of walking someplace... someplace like Africa, or the inner city, or ...heaven. Just-make-it-through-this-life-and-confess-all-your-sins-and-hope-for-His-blood-to-save-you, is missing something. I have many times said that life is about the journey, not the destination, and I have just as many times lived as though I believed the opposite. But is any of the good we do worth it if it is not from a heart of pure love for Jesus? Isn't all of this still about Him?

Let the sounding brass and clanging cymbals cease. And let the dance begin.

2011-10-01T10:10:00.000-07:00

I laughed my way through this the other day.

I can relate.

Truths for Mature Humans…

1. I think that part of a best friend’s job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

2. Nothing stinks more than that moment during an argument when you realize that you’re wrong.

3. I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

5. How in the world are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

7. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on #5. I’m pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

8. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

9. I can’t remember that last time I wasn’t at least kind of tired.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you aren’t going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don’t want to have to restart my collection…again.

13. I’m always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I know I did not make any changes to.

14. “Do not machine wash or tumble dry” means I will never wash this – ever.

15. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello?), but then when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voice mail. What did you do after I didn’t answer? Drop the phone and run?

16. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

17. I keep some people’s phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

18. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

21. Sometimes, I’ll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what in the world was going on when I first saw it.

22. I would rather try to carry 10 over-loaded plastic bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

23. The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.

24. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

25. How many time is it appropriate to say “What?” before you just nod and smile because you still didn’t hear or understand a word they said?

26. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

27. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

29. There’s no worse feeling than that millisecond you’re sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little to far.

31. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey – but I’d bet everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time!

2011-09-09T01:05:00.000-07:00

"But the thingsthat began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot writethem. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly saythat they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginningof the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures inNarnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they werebeginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: whichgoes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the onebefore."

-- from the lastchapter of the final book in the Chronicles of Narnia)

for all my friends whoreceived hard news or feel knocked down by life this week and sense that heavenis a better option than earth. it is. this is only the introduction to abeautiful forever.

stay strong and fighthard. one day this will all be worth it.

Profile of a Warrior

2011-09-02T06:50:00.000-07:00

He works with wood and creates masterpieces with skill and passion. He could persuade you to buy Conklin fertilizers for your potato field, even if you don't have a potato field. He is one of the pastors in a church who wrestles hard, sometimes painfully, but sometimes well.

You know him as Eli.

He sees in black and white and isn't so fond of the gray areas. He loves bananas and Swiss Cheese and shish-kabobs and a good joke. He has a soft spot for children and the socially outcast. He loves nature, especially in spring time. He loves to dream big, especially with his children. He is the soul of generosity, and would give the shirt off his back to someone in desperate need. He is able to sit quietly and listen for a very long time, and is content to be the one chuckling during the boisterous conversations his children carry on. Children love him, because I fear he is not so far removed from his own childhood. Him hanging upside down from a tree at the command of a little girl won him her heart forever.

You know him as Eli, and I know him as Dad.

When I left for Thailand, he released me with a hug and tears and said that he wouldn't rather that I be anywhere else than serving God. It was like the wind under my wings.

I've been away for about 3 years now. From the vantage point of half-way around the world, his feet of clay are still apparent to me. I would never want you to think he isn't human. He wouldn't want it either. But I realize that one of the greatest gifts in my life is my dad.

He is a man who is hungry for God. A man of vision who is willing to allow his children the freedom to wrestle and doesn't appear threatened by the way we can come out on different ends of things. And yet, as I think about it, truth has been one of his great passions in life. Having the gift of prophecy these days isn't so popular. I don't think it ever was. :) But he has never apologized for it, even in the deep waters. He would be willing to die for the truth. Integrity is very important to him in business, as well as in his daily walk. He would rather take a loss than fudge the lines.

He is one of those senders. Some go, some send. I told him once that he would probably be a wealthy man if he hadn't needed to bail his poor missionary kids out so often, and he looked slightly uncomfortable, as though he didn't know what to say, and acted as though it was the least he could do. I kept his books for three years, and know that it was not the least.

He is an ordinary man living an ordinary life in an extraordinary way. And that is anything but ordinary.

I'm beginning to see that it, all of it, was his battle. The life of raising a family and owning a business and being a pastor was the big battle that God had for him. He fought with a quiet courage for those who depended on him, and took the blows with honor when they came. And through it all, he taught us what it meant to walk with God, and to seek His heart above all else. It is with a heart of gratitude that I splash a few words into cyberspace in his honor, but know that all honor goes to God. And that's how it should be.

Thank-you, Dad.

2nd Semester Students

2011-09-01T08:54:00.000-07:00

"The command has been to 'go,' but we have stayed – inbody, gifts, prayer and influence. He has asked us to be witnesses unto theuttermost parts of the earth ... but 99% of Christians have kept putteringaround in the homeland."

Robert Savage, Latin AmericanMission

"God isn't looking for peopleof great faith, but for individuals ready to follow Him."

Hudson Taylor, China Inland Mission

"If God would grant us the vision, the word sacrificewould disappear from our lips and thoughts; we would hate the things that seemnow so dear to us; our lives would suddenly be too short, we would despisetime-robbing distractions and charge the enemy with all our energies in thename of Christ.”

Nate Saint, missionary martyr

if I had nothing

2011-08-29T08:55:00.000-07:00

*photos courtesy of the world wide web

If it was I who was born in an Asian or African country of no means, and it took many hours of back breaking labor every day just to keep body and soul together, would you come to my aid?

If it was my life that was dogged by fear and subservience to evil spirits, would you care enough to bring His deliverance to me?

If it was my child suffering from the worst drought in 60 years, would you send food?

What if it was you in these shoes of dire physical and spiritual need?

I'm not asking judgmentally or rhetorically. I'm really asking.

Did you know that we have not been given the blessing of wealth and American citizenship to sit back on our haunches and think "tough luck" thoughts to the rest of the world? We have been blessed to be a blessing. We have the command in Matthew 28... specific words that tell us what to do with that blessing.

Not everybody can go into all the world. I get that. But the Great Commission was not just for missionaries. It was for all believers. Our part in it may look different than our neighbors, but we do have a part.

The world needs our time, our resources, and our love. Did you know that we have enough of it to spread around to hundreds of thousands of others? We, the top 10 percent of the world's wealthy, we.

There are enough Christians in the world today to get the job done... to reach every nation and tribe and people group with the Gospel. The problem does not lie in numbers, but in inertia. We would rather talk about it and have Bible studies about it than quietly obey. What if every church in America and Canada and Europe and China and Africa would adopt a people group to reach with the gospel, and formulate a plan, focusing on that specific people group? With that many people praying and supporting the missionaries that they send, how many years would it take until the whole world would know? Five? Ten? Two?

I have been so powerfully convicted of this the past couple of weeks. God has been speaking many things to my heart about my purpose here on earth. You might think a missionary in one of the said countries would be on top of these things, but it is amazing to me how quickly I can settle into a routine that centers around me. Again.

What if, when we get to heaven, we suddenly see how backwards it all was? What if it becomes clear to us that it wasn't what we hoarded that mattered (our time, our money, our lives) but what we gave away?

And why did Jesus call that man a fool who tore down his barns to build bigger ones? We would call him wise... a good manager. We grudgingly admire the one who can afford to build bigger and better. Jesus and His eyes of Eternity knew the man had spent his entire life for something he lost the minute he died. How foolish and short-sighted, but am I any different?

I see them every day, people dying the slow death of spiritual starvation. They bow to Buddha gods, and hope that somehow someway they will be able to gain enough merit. I know that this kind of "merit" could fill the ocean and they would still come up short. I know that salvation is a free gift.

It is free, folks, and we are sitting on this knowledge as though we are the only ones for whom it was intended. But what if the tables were turned and we had nothing and they had all we ever needed, not only in this life but for all of eternity as well? What if it was us who stood on the brink of hell?

He has trusted us with His treasure. What are we going to do with it?

**I almost didn't post this. I was a click away from deleting it all. There are too many rough edges in my own heart showing through... too much judgement and not enough humility. But I post it on the slim chance that you can read past my glaring flaws and see the truth I've been wrestling with. I know many of you reading this have not been exposed to the things that I have been exposed to, and I know that I am more accountable for it. But I also know that ignorance is not bliss. I face a hard choice. I face it every day. If Jesus is not Lord of all of my life, He is not my Lord at all.

forever will be different

2011-07-11T20:38:00.000-07:00

Lately, we've been talking about heaven alot around here. Have you ever sat and daydreamed about a city that is as tall as it is wide? And we've been getting good perspective on the spiritual battle we as Christians must fight. The enemy's tactics are being exposed, battle strategies are handed out. I realize again we must fight or perish. But sometimes we get so caught up in the valid affairs of this life that we forget...

...it will not be like this forever.

One day, the battle will be done.

The stories and discoveries that breaks our hearts will have all been told. I do not know how many heartbreaks stand between me and heaven, but Jesus does. And He has them numbered perfectly.

The unknowns that keep me awake at night and make me spiritually fit because I must wrestle so much will finally be known. There will be no more reason to fear. I will know you. You will know me. And I think we will sigh.

The romance that wooed me to Jesus time after time... that pulled me back to Him when the waters of life had carried me away... that Romance will have just begun. An eternity in His presence. I can hardly think it.

It won't be like this forever. The forgetfulness and the being forgotten. The ugliness and the failure. The loneliness and fear. The tears. The sensation of wandering alone in an arid desert.

One day they will all be gone. One day, we will see the ugly as it truly is, and we will know the beautiful with so much wonder and delight. And sometimes I wonder if we won't feel some surprise and maybe some awe. Maybe the things that we thought were so ugly will merely be the bass notes in this symphony.

To stand there, when it is all done and to know that we did our part, that we fought well -enabled by a Power not our own, will make all of this worth it, I think. To be able to put our crown down at Jesus' feet and give all the glory to Him... what a moment! I lean heavily on His grace now, and I know that one day the crown will be His. All His.

But until then I remember: It won't be like this forever. Heaven is but a breath away.

This Good Day

2011-06-29T09:54:00.000-07:00

What a day.

It was adventurous. Do you want me to tell you about it? I thought so.

No, I didn't have a wreck. That was somebody else that challenged an 18-wheeler at the Tesco Lotus intersection. I'm glad it wasn't me. I didn't look too closely, because I didn't think I could handle it. But seeing things like that have a tendency to make one drive v.e.r.y slowly for a long time after.

My day started with a jolt when I woke up 4 minutes before my alarm went off. Is that normal? Because it's starting to be normal for me. Maybe I should just set my alarm for 6:26. And maybe I should say my day started with a real jolt when I woke up again a little after 7:00 and actually dragged myself out of bed.

By 8:00 I was off to a market 20 minutes away in search of lemons. :) yes, lemons. They are a precious commodity in Thailand. It's not just anybody that sells lemons, but the rumors were that special vendors over close to Neimman Heimman street were selling them, and cheaply. I was all over it.

But we had no more gotten good and going, Gertrude and I, when I felt a familiar wobble from the hind quarters. You've GOT to be kidding me. I thought. Not today. I thought. I don't have time, Lord. I thought, as though it were His fault. You see, this was the fourth flat tire in roughly two months. Three of them were the doings of the Back Tire. This time I got the hint. It was time he retired. (ha. that's a funny pun. I didn't intend it.) I made myself a little promise to be joyful anyway. I think I might have even started humming, as though that would help. Slowly we continued to an intersection, then stopped, wondering what to do next. Where in the world would I find a tire shop around these parts? A truck load of day laborers pulled up to the intersection. One sleepy-eyed fella, seeing my predicament, grinned and pointed back the way they had come. Really, I said and pointed to my tire. He nodded. Really. So I went, and found the tire shop, and almost an hour later, we were on our way again. Jehovah Jireh is good.

My view from the tire shop. A temple? On stilts? I don't understand.

Turns out the market didn't have lemons. But they had green beans. I was hungry for green beans.

After the farmer's market, there was a trip to the fabric/flower market, and you shoulda seen me and Gertrude on the way out of there. Anybody reading this know Mike Viars? Yup. He would have been proud of my load. I know I looked silly, but I didn't care.

Little peek at the front of Gertie and yours truly balancing the 6' of willow branches precariously. Key word: precariously.

Back at IGo, it was a quick flower arrangement for the apartment of our soon-arriving guest teacher and his family.

And then it was back to painting the lounge. Again. That's a whole other story. This post doesn't need to get that long. :) But let's just say the public lounge is now... green. And there are other curtains. And cement planters with pussy willows in them. There are no wall-words yet. That we'll save for another time. A friend helped me clean and paint the lounge, and I'm deeply indebted to her. How lucky was it that she was bored the same week I was out of my mind busy?

Then, when we had rolled on the last coat of paint, we struck out for the fabric market ...again. She's leaving for home soon, and so wanted to do a last tour of the stores to get a few things. And when we were walking down one of the crowded streets, I started noticing policemen. There were policemen. Everywhere. What...? Should we duck behind a bolt of fabric? No, we're big girls. We kept marching bravely on. At one point a heavy set cop started following Rhoda and I. When we got into a fabric store and he was still behind us, I stepped aside and glanced furtively at him. He just grinned and kept walking out the other end. Silly guy.

Turns out, election is just around the corner. Turns out that the candidates were stomping in the fabric market district. Turns out I saw two of them. Turns out I took a picture. Turns out I took two.

The fellow waving at me went above and beyond his duty, I think. He winked at me and blew me a kiss. Politicians.

I had so many interesting encounters with people today. I realize in typing this that I'm forgetting half of them. There was the dude who cut my table cloth fabric. He guessed first that it was for a skirt. Then, when I told him no, it was for a table, he said, Oh. For church. Huh? No, not really. For a party. But I must have said something funny, cause he started chuckling, and didn't stop even after I had paid and left. Glad to know I'm a comedian. Oh, and there was the awesome guy who dropped everything to deliver my cement planters. All for 5 baht... roughly 16 cents. There was the lady who slipped an extra bunch of sunny flowers into my bag as she handed me my change. The grin on her face said it all. I was surprised by grace. You see, I had just been wondering if I shouldn't have gotten two bunches instead of one, and just like that she made my decision for me. And I think she enjoyed it even more than I did.

There were a few things about my day that went as planned. I crossed some things off the giant list.

There was a lot that God planned for my day, though, that I hadn't thought to pencil in... and here at the close I thank Him for them. Because it was those things that made this day rich. It was the unexpected that brought the life into my day. How true it is, that if we allow the day to happen instead of taking it into our hands and forcing it to be something else... it will be better. He knows exactly what we need.

Thank-you, God, for this good day. Amen.

I Wish I had Loved More

2011-06-27T07:42:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder what will be going through your mind at heaven's gate?

It will all be over. Our one, brief turn at life will be done, and there will be no going back to change the things we wish we had done differently.

Will I have any regrets? And if so, what regrets?

I can't help thinking that now is the time to be going over this, and not then.

When I see from Heaven's perspective, what will look different than it does now?

And this is what I decided:

I will wish I had loved more.

I don't want to stand there, thinking: I got so caught up with doing. I got so involved with pleasing those who I was serving that I forgot to love them. I tried to live a good life, to be a good person, but I did it for no one else but me. I tried to love God. I knew so much about Him, and I even dedicated my life to His service. But I really didn’t know how to love.

* * *

I thought about her last week; saw how sad she looked on Sunday morning. It didn’t go as they had planned… few things have since they’ve come to Thailand. It was intended to be a short stay on their way to America, but it has turned into years, and life has interfered, and the years haven’t been so kind. I knew she was wrestling with the changes in her growing family, changes she sometimes feels powerless over. I felt the promptings to go for some flowers, orchids, maybe, and drop them off at her house and put my arms around her and let her know I cared. But I got busy.

* * *

She was small and dirty and crying. Such a small face for so much sorrow, I thought, and I picked her up. She turned around and wailed and wanted back down and I thought, fine then. I don’t need to care about you. Later, she came back to me, repentant. But I was not, and the moment passed, and I did not love.

* * *

All week long I wanted to be free of the struggle, to be away from misunderstandings and failure, especially failure in relationships. I wanted heaven. But it struck me, as I was listening and praying wordless prayers that maybe this is how one spells love. I must allow myself to care. I must allow their pain to become my own. I cannot keep my hands clean and my heart unscarred in a dirty, fallen world. I cannot eliminate the struggle, or even guarantee that we will all be ok at the end of it.

To be honest, I felt like a failure this week. Few of the words I spoke seemed profound, or even very true. I didn't fix much. I got things done, physical work things, but in the end, it felt like I might have neglected people. It wasn't a conviction so much as an impression of having passed by somebody's valley, and having missed them there.

The measuring stick of eternity measures me small and afraid this week.

But I learned something, too.

I learned it is never too late to love.The greater sin would be to wallow and worry, but repentance calls for a getting up and going on. It calls for us to walk straight into this battle of Love, and not around it. The path to Heaven lies through it. Maybe the greatest thing you or I will ever accomplish in this life is to learn to love others as we love ourselves, to admit to their charms and to be as quiet to their faults as we are to our own.

Oh, how little I know of love!

I love the Orient

2011-06-23T07:55:00.000-07:00

I had an epiphany today.

I'm living in the Orient.

Uh-huh.

As in the Orient of the Three Wise Men who came to see baby Jesus. How incredible is that? Whoever thought that the little LaRonda of Amish decent would make it half-way around the world to live in Thailand? She sure didn’t. Methinks the little freckle-faced kid wailing "We Three Kings of Orient Are" would be impressed. J

This corner of the Orient is very different from much of the rest of Asia. Thailand has not participated in any war for centuries. It is friendly to all religions, in contrast to the closed doors of most of its neighboring countries. Thai food is often as much art as it is spice. The Thai people are a people who value a code of honor most foreigners don’t see and don’t get. They respect their elderly and they respect their King. One of the worst social faux pas to commit is greng jai; that is to say, to come across as arrogant or to offend someone intentionally. They’ve perfected the art of letting one down gracefully. Let me illustrate:

Today I went to HomePro to see if they carried chalkboard paint. It turns out, regretfully and with much apologizing, that they don’t. The gentleman who kindly put up with my stammering Thai before answering back in perfectly good English told me to go to Big C to look for chalkboard paint. {That’s like telling someone looking for paint in America to go from Sherwin Williams to Kroger to see if they have a special brand.} Not gunna happen. I was onto him, though I tried to look gullible and grateful. I asked him if there is any other place in Chiang Mai that might carry chalkboard paint. {yeah, I’m desperate.} He said, yes, but far away. Deep in the city. I’m guessing that he doesn’t know of any such place. On a bad day, I’d go so far as to suspect that there even is such a thing as deep in the city. J But I left with the weak and watery hope that chalkboard paint might exist somewhere in Chiang Mai. He had done his duty.

Sometimes their politeness gets in my way, especially when I stop to ask for directions and they tell me which way to go. I discover after going that way, that they really had no idea, and by george, would it be so hard to say, I don’t know once in a while? But it is part of their culture… a culture I have come to appreciate, respect, and even love. And if their politeness gets in my way, I can only imagine how my greng jai, innocent as it may be, gets in their’s.

This morning on my walk through some of the back streets outside the moobaan it washed over me in happy waves how glad I am to be here. I think CeeBee would call it stage #4 of adjusting to a new culture. #4: Euphoria.

The smells that were so strange to me when I first arrived are now comforting: scent of laundry detergent vying with cooking rice and Thai spices and incense and wood smoke.

The language that I was so sure I would never master makes more sense every day. Chan puut passat Thai dai nitnoy.

And the knowing grins I exchanged with an older gentleman when we kept meeting up with each other warmed my heart. We had little in common besides iPods and the enjoyment of a breathtaking morning, and it was enough.

On days like today I feel like I belong, and I don’t need to tell you what a beautiful feeling that is.

conflict by any other name is still conflict

2011-06-11T01:32:00.000-07:00

I hate conflict. Conflict causes me to blinch inside. Make it bad enough, and I'll get the shakes. I don't know all of the why, but it's true. I hate conflict. And for the job I have, that's not necessarily a good thing. One can devise all sorts of godly sounding reasons to avoid conflict.

Did you know that God created us to have conflict?

Oh, you don't believe it either? :)

Well, try this on for size. He created us male and female. Isn't that enough proof? :) Seriously. Besides being human, males and females don't have an overwhelming amount of things in common. For further research on the matter, read relationship manuals. :) Yeah, I prolly should, too. :)

If we were designed for conflict, I wonder why we avoid it at all costs? I wonder why most of our response to conflict is to hope it will blow over? Maybe He created conflict because He meant for it to be resolved, and maybe that process makes us more into His image.

But I know so little of how to do this. We've all been to the place of Sweaty Palms, where the resolution did not go as planned. We fear, I am finding, that we will make the conflict worse. Staying away is surely better than that.

The key, I think, is to differ with each other in loving and respectful ways. That is godly conflict.

The key, I think, is to learn to love so deeply that we will not let our differences divide us.
And maybe that is godly conflict resolution.

note: yes, the photo was staged. :) my brothers would never have conflict. :) I'm astonished that you would think so. :)

listen

2011-06-04T04:54:00.000-07:00

"After every person speaks we should give them one or two minutes of uninterrupted consideration. And then a minute or two to weigh it with Scripture. I think what we would discover is that we are really very much alike, and that underneath the seething skin or angry faces beat hearts very much like our own. Maybe pausing before we speak would even heal our churches, our land. Maybe pausing would give us space to love each other before we make sure the others know that WE are right."

waiting is not forever

2011-06-03T00:46:00.000-07:00

waiting is an essential part of walking with God.

many of us know how to DO, but all of us must learn to wait.

if you want to soar with eagles, you must wait on God.

i have learned the futility of flapping my wings hoping a wind current strong enough to lift me and my dreams would come along.

i'm learning to wait.

i'm finding that waiting is beautiful.

so, if you're waiting because God hasn't opened the doors, then wait my friend.

but live {especially, live while you wait}

life is what is happening while we are waiting for it to happen.

and what if God is opening the door?
are you going to follow Him?
sometimes the scariest thing to do is to desist from waiting and march in the direction of your dreams.

if it seems scary, remember:
Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.
it really does.

no. i wasn't preaching at you. it was i who needed the sermon.

to see Rosita's artwork relating to this subject, click here

2011-05-10T09:38:00.000-07:00

Blessings

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise

-Laura Story

tidbits from the week past

2011-05-07T02:52:00.000-07:00

One wouldn't want to call it a gang, so we'll call it a brotherhood.

Left to Right: Lee Mummau, Raymond Burkholder, Clair Schnupp, and Val Yoder

{Duff Brown is hidden behind Clair}. They took a Saturday afternoon off to go around the mountain. According to a perplexed Clair, "We had to eat ice cream every time we stopped!"

Life here at IGo includes lots of farewells.

...and lots of hellos, to be sure, but the farewells are the ones that sting.

We were about to say good-bye to Katie {third from left} who served with IGo English Center for a year.

The months of April and now May have been most unusual here in Thailand.

We have rain showers nearly every day. It is quite cool. I mean that literally and not so much figuratively, especially when you run to the grocery for a few items and have to sit out the torrential downpour.

But it was fun to watch the chivalry of the Makro Men. They are truly amazing, people.

Student Council took us deans out to the beautiful Waterfall Restaurant.

It was a fun evening of discussing their vision for the student body this semester.

We enjoyed yummy Thai food followed by coffee afterward in the restaurant's coffee house.

Ministry night with the Ransom Team

included going out to eat supper in the bars where the women work and building relationships with them. It has been an amazing week for the team, as one of the women they have been in contact with and praying for accepted Christ as her Savior last week! It is so evident that the Spirit is working in her life, giving her peace and guiding her into all truth. Thank-you, Jesus!

It was special to have the indomitable Clara join us. :)

It's been a good week, but I'm somehow glad the week is nearly done. Amen.

students of 2011

2011-04-28T01:38:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wonder what we look like

to the angels?

The scriptures tell us that God looks on the heart of a man,

not much concerned with the outwardness of it all.

I have a hard time seeing heart to heart, so I judge by externals.

I see a humbly built, unremarkable person and think that God must surely have mercy if He has chosen them to do His work. I let the quiet folks slip by unnoticed in my day, and give the good seats and most attention to those who make noise or look nice.

tell me you don't do the same thing.

I think heaven must be unimpressed.

Those meek people. They will inherit the earth. They are the ones who cause hell to tremble when they arise to another day of unnoticed service and prayer. We may not have eyes to see, but Jesus does. We may not have ears that hear, but the angels do.

Why am I saying this? It was because I was looking at the students and feeling the tinglies. They dress nice. They look like a decent lot. They will probably not rock our boat too much.

(my burst of honesty is almost too much even for me:)

I wonder what that picture looks like to the principalities and powers of darkness.

I wonder if there is an angel who is nudging his neighbors with anticipation

because he knows what we don't and he senses the victories that are about to be won.

I wonder if there is a quiet smile on the face of God, who knows that ordinary is but the prequel to extraordinary when a young man of no great fame surrenders everything he has to the One who made him.

Lord, bring Yourself much glory through these lives.

Gertrude

2011-04-27T01:15:00.000-07:00

I'm going to guess you don't remember who Gertrude is. I introduced her many moons ago in a random post.

1.) Gertrude is a walrus
2.) Gertrude is a missionary in the mooban
3.) Gertrude is a former student
4.) Gertrude is my bike

If you picked number 4, you're right. Gertrude is my bike. And up until today, she was mostly a trusty old steed. A bit noisy perhaps, which makes it hard to sneak up on anything, but she's also gutsy. She can usually beat most bikes across the intersection when the light turns green. She always wants to, so I let her. Those bikes might go roaring by her later when she tops out at 80 kph, but Gertrude rules the intersections.

But tonight she failed me. Or maybe I failed her. You see, we were going out to celebrate a friend's birthday. In fact, that friend was with us, riding along in style when glump glump glump wibble wobble glump... Gertrude let us down. Or, rather, her back tire did.

As Providence would have it, we timed our mishap to happen a short distance from a tire repair shop. As Providence would also have it, they had not yet closed shop (it was all but 5 o'clock) and my friend spoke excellent Thai because she is Thai and we were all set to go. They would quick change the inner tube and we'd be on our way. Gertrude laughs when we make such hasty plans.

The poor mechanic had to all but dismantle her to get to the tire. It. takes. time. to dismantle a bike. Time we did not have, not us and probably not the mechanic. There were friends waiting for us at the restaurant. There were appointments to be met after dinner. My phone was MIA and Nueng's phone battery was dead, so there was no way to contact the rest of our party. They were very gracious, though a little peaked around the eyes when we finally showed up almost an hour late. We had a lovely meal together before all rushing off again. :)

I found out again that I do not do well with rearranged plans. I'm not sure if it's more because I'm a controlling perfectionist {can't be that one, at least not the perfectionist part!} or if it's because I hate to let people down.

God's been asking me lately to live for an audience of One. It is so hard to let go of fear of man, especially when you realize that much of your life has been motivated by that. My verse for last week was Mark 12:30, and it comes to me now, that that is possibly the only way to let go of the fear of what others think about us. Can I love God so completely that what He thinks of me trumps all? His acceptance is what we all crave anyway.

Hopping off the bunny trail now. :) When I got back to IGo later, this funny little man was declaring me blue and red by turns. Wonder why?

Check back tomorrow for a photo of the students who are attending IGo this semester.

currently

2011-04-15T02:08:00.000-07:00

currently eating: spicy papaya salad, or som tum

currently reading: the finally completed IGo Yearbook :)

currently mourning: my new suitcases. they were sad looking when we met again on the other side. They might survive the journey back home, but we're not counting on it. :(

currently enjoying: songkran! (the national water fight)
currently bemoaning: songkran! (the all-hours-of-the-day-get-drenched-with-ice-water-whether-you-want-it-or-not-festival)

currently spending time with: Deanne (on our way home from dalat with a promising lunch of pork on a stick, fried chicken, mangoes and sticky rice, and bananas, which we rounded out with skittles and iced coffee) It hasn't been a healthy day. Tomorrow we begin again.

currently listening to: the talented Mr. Klinkenberg

currently missing: them ^ , but not only them

currently inspired by: Marcia

currently pondering: Psalm 32:8 and Psalm 50:14 & 15.
Try it sometime. Take a verse and meditate on it for a week. We were challenged to do this at our staff retreat, and it has been one week and I am loving it. The verse takes shape and starts to breathe and God speaks softly to you through it. Skim reading never did me much good. Meditation does.

currently signing off (and that was probably the only "currently" that truly is) :)

March Madness

2011-03-25T14:51:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not talking about the college basketball craze. My world isn't that large at the moment. :) It has narrowed to the basics... nose to the grindstone, eyes crossed in concentration, and lists taking over my days.
I'm a procrastinator, no way around it. But the procrastination is partly justified, because I had the privilege of traveling {and being traveled to!} this month.

The first weekend of March it was a roadtrip to Arkansas with my sisters. The three of us girls in one car with most of K's earthly belongings = f.u.n. :) Leaving her there for a year = not so fun. She is half of the new laundry couple at Hillcrest... the other half being her buddy Ingrid. That laundry's not gonna know what hit it. :) But I miss her. She was the yin to my yang, my sentence-finisher, my walking comic strip. But at least I have my other yang/sentence-finisher/howling buddy with me for a little while. Sadly, no pictures were taken. Too busy living life {and eating Neighbor's Mill Muffins} to document it, I guess.

My first visitor was Mel, but since cameras weren't our priority I'll have to pull an old one out of the file. :)

Mel and I met at IGo as students in 2009, and traveled back together in 2010. She was my assistant dean and faithful sidekick through the thick and thin of first semester last year, and the thought of going back without her is a sorrowful one. Mel came to see me {and a few others} one week, and it was a delightful couple of days we got to spend together. She is passionate about knowing God and making Him known, and has followed Him on an amazing journey, albeit a hard one, the past several years. I'll miss you, girl. 'Nuff said.

Next it was Joyce, who came for a long {but not long enough} weekend. We woke up to a gorgeous snow on Friday morning... you've got to take advantage of that! Joyce and I did 4 ministry trips together in 2009, so we basically saw each other every day for 8 months. No joke. You get to know someone in a hurry, and I think it's safe to say she might know every one of my faults. It's a true friend who will stick with you through all we went through! It wasn't until January of 2011 that we saw each other again... and a year is far too long! Joyce inspires me whenever I'm around her... a woman of prayer and a heart turned toward God is the best way to describe her. Well, that and a laugh you'll never forget and enough spitfire to make you wanna stay on her good side. :) Love you, too, Joyce.

Last weekend 4 of us traveled down to see Bethany and Ruth {and Caryn & Kemmi} in Catlett, VA. What fun! We hiked a beautiful trail along the Potomac on Saturday and then meandered into DC to see if at least a few Cherry Blossoms might be popping. They were!

It's safe to say there is not an un-opinionated one in the bunch. And I love it.

Next stop: Thailand, in a little over a week.

Oh, one more picture before I go. Her name is Ashley. Books should be written about her, but I hope they aren't because the delightfulness that is her personality would be hard to capture. Whether it's singing at the top of all the scales, or telling me stories that nearly split me in half, or diligently and competently helping me as I planted little green things... she made most days at the greenhouse brighter. :)

LOVE them home to Me

2011-01-22T21:09:00.000-08:00

Can’t you see them standing there? the lame, the blind, the sinner.

Go and tell them that I care. Invite them to My heaven.

Look at them through My eyes, see them as I do.

Go out into the world, and bring them back with you.…

Love them home to Me, and let My love be all they see in You

And when you do you will love them home to Me

where they long to be. I’ve shown you the way.

So love them home to Me.

Loving those who don't love Him isn't so easy. Loving even those who are His, the very human members of His body that we rub shoulders with every day, isn't so easy either.

It doesn't change the fact that Jesus wants to love through us.

He tells us quite simply that love is more important than faith, the cornerstone of Christianity. It is even more important than hope, something none of us can survive without.

It even trumps theological correctness. Nothing shows the world and the church who Christ is more than our charity, our love.

If we learn to love, we have fulfilled the whole law.

If we have learned to accept His love- vast as the ocean! -ah, then I think we can begin to know what it means to give His love.

All that up there ^ -those words, they're all well and good.

But do I really believe it? And am I going to live love?

Empty professions of love are it's biggest mockery.

Just some Saturday night ramblings for you... :)

2011-01-12T12:41:00.000-08:00

Ohio is a wintry wonderland right now! The brown, crunchy fields that we take our daily walks on are now covered in a pristine blanket of white. And it's muzzle loader season.
Below: daily constitutional

So we took our walk indoors today... the four of us chugging to the rhythm of Leslie Sansone's Walk the Pounds Away. One Very Skeptical Sister who has 0 pounds to loose thinks we are annoying at best when we crank the DVD up, but I guess she decided if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Because the fact of the matter is, exercise is good for everybody -for so many reasons. If you're worried about shriveling away, don't be. You can always eat a block of cream cheese afterward.

So, I finally started working on the IGO yearbook again, and it's been so fun to go back through the year in pictures. Here are a few from the last ministry trip (choir/English tour) for your viewing pleasure.
I can't take credit for the pictures. We had lots of talented photographers in the student body this year. A yearbook maker's dream.

Below: Pastor Kiat looking quite dapper.

Below: Bryan... He was always good for a laugh and was very faithful in carrying heavy water jugs up long flights of stairs to the girl's dorm for us. I'm fairly certain he's trying to model the mug below. :)

Below: Worship.

Below: So the ladies' choir robes were a very non-traditional pink. :) One of the guys thought it was like singing with a bunch of flamingos, so the girls posed accordingly. hehehe

Below: Emily and Rodney

Below: relay races at a school

Yes, I miss those people, and yes, I'm responsible for getting the yearbook off to the printers in the next couple weeks or so. Most of the time I enjoy it, cramped shoulders, eye-crosser-osis and all, but my computer is giving me fits right now, so I'm taking a "blogging break". :D

****
What fun we've been having here at 71444 Grapevine Road. The family is all at home right now... a feat we haven't accomplished for more than a few weeks at a time since who knows when. It will be short lived as Jared will be leaving for Sioux Lookout for a year of service in about a week or so. I love our supper-time discussions. We don't lack for opinions or humor, and the topics are usually quite varied (conspiracy theories, deer-hunting, the trend for naming Antrim babies after presidents, and Cambodia, to name a few). Notice Jamin. He never really outgrew making faces at the camera. :) Hehe. I'm pretty sure he doesn't read this blog, but if he does, this'll teach you, Jingo.
Below: candid moment at the supper table

****
And one more thing before I go. We girls decided to do something different today to conquer mid-January blahs. We each wrote some outside-the-box little "project" on a slip of paper (3 papers each) and put the slips in a bowl. Then, with bated breath we each drew a slip, hoping we wouldn't draw our own! :) Well, as luck would have it, we each drew one of my weird little papers. Including me. I may or may not have to kiss each of my brothers. Pray for me. Kris, he he he, has to make a snow angel, take a picture of it, and post it on her blog (or, optionally, the church bulletin board). And Rosita is currently designing (and piecing) a quilt. It is going to be gorgeous.

So, there you have it. A day in the life. I'll try not to cram it all into one blog post next time.

Peace, love, and snow angels.

one way to fight

2010-12-06T09:17:00.000-08:00

He's been angry. He is losing ground in places that he's held for centuries and he fights with a desperation that comes from knowing that this war will end in his defeat. He fights low and dirty.

You know this, but do you know how to fight back? Do you even know where the battle lies? What do you do when he comes at you with discouragement? Do you even think of him when a thousand doubts and fears come into your mind just before you're ready to do battle?

I'll tell you one of the ways God has been teaching me to fight the enemy of our souls.

Fight with truth. I know, it's real profound.

I think truth is called a sword because it takes practice to learn how to wield it well. The first time you pick it up you hope you don't accidentally poke your eye out. It feels awkward. It feels foreign to be speaking words that it seems everybody should already know. It feels much better to live it than to speak it. What if I speak it too harshly? What if I offend somebody who would have been just fine if I had kept my passionate words sheathed?
To declare truth in a fallen world is your high calling as a Christian, and it is fiercely opposed by the devil. "You can live it, just don't speak it", is one of his best ploys.
When was the last time you told the Seekers about the Lover of your soul? They don't want to know about religion. They want to know who put that smile on your face.

I did it tonight. It's been an awful long time since I did it. I spoke Jesus' name to a man from Myanmar named Harry, who was "all of the religions. Yes, Christian too." He accosted me in front of his tailor shop, and I took the bait. I skirted his awkward conversation starter. I really don't know much about Galileo or the geocentric point of view and I must admit his line of reasoning had me real confused there for a minute. Harry, not Galileo. Actually, both.

It went something like this:
Harry: Jesus was a real good man. Kind of like super man.
Me: Jesus was God. And man. Jesus was God and man. {I'm telling you, profundity isn't always necessary :)}
Harry: yeah, yeah. ok.
Me: Jesus is my friend. Taps chest for emphasis.
Harry: But Galileo. What do you think? Was he a real good man?
Me: I'm sorry. What?
Harry: Galileo. Geocentric. What does this mean? Points to the newspaper article that started the conversation.
We repeated this tack several times. Sometimes he looked frustrated with me. I wanted to apologize and talk about the weather instead. The weather is something all religions concur on. Jesus is not. But the thought kept coming to me that if those who know the truth don't speak it, who will? How will the lost find hope unless we tell them? How will the blind regain their sight unless we lead them to light?

We don't always know how it will go when we pull out our swords. We don't always see the enemy clearly. But if the truth sets us free, victory is but a step, a breath away. You have power inside of you that makes the enemy tremble. Let it out.

I pray that the Holy Spirit can use my awkward words and stumbling tongue to show Harry a bit of Calvary's love. I pray that He will let the convicting words my friend spoke to a foreigner with a Thai "girlfriend" be his greatest mercy. Because that's what those truths are, even if they are hard and momentarily painful. They are, in reality, mercies.

giving thanks

2010-11-26T08:22:00.000-08:00

(the pictures in this post are intended to be balm for Rosita's wounded eyes and stomach, a condition brought on by the last post)

It seems to be the proper thing to do these days... remember and recount what we are thankful for. My list is long, but maybe not as long as it should be. :)

It is so easy to be thankful for the unmistakable blessings He gives us, and they are many. But I'm thinking today of those blessings in disguise, and how little I know of thanking Him for them.

We had a lovely Thanksgiving banquet last night. As I sat in the dining room of IGo and looked at the faces around me, I realized that these people were my family. I missed my family at home, but suddenly, in a surreal way, I realized that these people were my real family. The family of God will outlast all earthly bonds we have with our dearly beloved families here.

To close our evening we stood in a big circle and sang the song "Blessed be Your Name"...a song that unwittingly became our theme song this semester.

As we were singing the praises that swelled our hearts, I looked around at the faces declaring worship. I knew many of their stories. Praise does not come easily to all of us, especially when life has taught us what it feels like to be neglected by our own parents, to be rejected by our peers, to bury loved ones long before their life seemed done, to be asked to give up much when those around us haven given up little, to be disheartened by and disillusioned with our churches. It was the blessings we didn't ask for, but He gave them anyway. They did not sing ignorantly, and neither did I.

Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful

Where the streams of abundance flow... blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name when I'm found in the dessert place

Though I walk through the wilderness... blessed be Your name.

Blessed be Your name, when the sun's shining down on me

When the world's all as it should be... blessed be Your name.

Blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering

Though there's pain in the offering... blessed be Your name.

Every Blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise.

When the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say

Blessed be Your name!

It was then, as I looked around the room at holy light shining on every face, that I realized why thankfulness is so powerful. We can confidently thank God for everything that He allows because we know His heart toward us is good. Worship and thanksgiving banish fear and doubt and root us deeper in the conviction that God is for us. Worship and thanksgiving, especially in the seasons of pain and darkness, takes something the devil intended for your destruction and turns it into a trophy for Christ. Is that putting it too plainly?

With that being said, I'm off to make a different sort of Thanksgiving list.

a post especially for Rosita...

2010-11-19T03:22:00.000-08:00

...but only because I'm feeling mischievous. Rosita, if you're reading this, don't scroll down for the photos. Since we brought up Makro in the previous post, I thought I'd tell you a little more about it today. :) Makro is Thailand's Sam's Club. It is only about a kilometer down the road from IGo, so by default it's the handiest place to get groceries. But "handy" becomes relative when you realize you need only ONE small bottle of soy sauce and the only option is two BIG bottles shrink-wrapped together. It's a bit of an overkill if you're shopping for one or two people, because Makro caters to the big guys (restaurant owners, missionary school cooks, etc. :)

Makro now has an almost complete Italian foods section, because Thai people can make their peace with the food of Italy. I guess there are enough similarities. It's not uncommon to see Thai/Italian fusion restaurants around.

There are no Thai/American fusion restaurants. They don't so much like our food. Oh, restaurants will serve both cuisines, but they carefully give them separate menu spaces. Thai people as a whole think cinnamon is plain awful. They dislike pumpkin pie, and many can't stomach dairy products. If you think there's a lot of food without dairy products in them, try doing a no-dairy fast in America. Not fun at all. But... here in Thailand I could easily go for months without even touching dairy. I have this little thing with our Thai cook. She detests milk; thinks it smells horrid. She makes me eat the spicy stuff and I make her taste the ice cream. She nearly vomits. I cry buckets. We're even. :) We have an interesting relationship.

That was a long bunny trail, but all that to say you have to kind of look between the cracks to find ingredients for American dishes. They're usually there, or somewhere around town. You might have to be willing to part with an arm and a leg for them, but most anything can be had. Even Philadelphia Cream Cheese, I discovered.

As I made my laps around Makro today, I got the urge to pull out my camera and sneak some photos. I love Thailand. I really, really do. This is one of the reasons why:

Every single item in this arrangement is edible. Not only is it edible, it's a vegetable arrangement, not your typical fruit variety. Just another day by the Makro escalator. And yes, those beautiful tendrils coming out the bottom left side? Green beans. The long variety. :)

The next set of pictures are really the part where Rosita should look away. I can almost smell the fish department when I look at them. Seriously, this part of the store nearly does me in every time. I shift it into 4th gear and boogey out of there. Today I meandered with my camera and braved the stares of Thai people who thought it was perfectly normal that Manta Sting Rays and Toads should be part of the fish market.

Love their poultry section. You simply help yourself. Grab a bag and fill 'er up. Never picked up any chicken feet though. Maybe one of these days.

Saved the best for last. I'm sorry. Bet you don't see that in Reisbecks.

Ok, you can go drink some peppermint tea to settle your stomach.
I really do love the spice/aromatics/dried food section, though.

Well, I need to run, but thanks for letting me give you a tour!

I Miss Wal-Mart

2010-11-18T06:18:00.000-08:00

I know shopping at Wal-Mart is almost not politically correct anymore. I hear statements like "I'm never shopping at Wal-Mart again after what I saw at the sweat shops in Cambodia!". I've heard Wal-Mart irritably called China-Mart because much of it's goods come from those foreign lands. Chances are that Wal-Mart is crippling small businesses in your area this very day.

But I miss Wal-Mart. I miss it today especially, when a simple shopping list for a simple meal will take me to-- count it -- six different places.

There's running to Makro for the chicken, lettuce, potato chips, chocolate, black tea, and green olives. There's running to the market for limes and garlic- they're cheaper there. There's running to Rimping for after-dinner mints and focaccia bread- because nobody else has it. There's running to the flower market in Waterot, and if they don't happen to have strawberries there, I'll have to run across town to find the little roadside stand that MIGHT have them. Oh, and somewhere along the way is a stop at a 7-11 to pick up some vegetable oil. There's logic behind the ~~shopping~~ running list, folks, but you kinda have to be here to get it.

All that to say if you're dreading your weekly trip to your local Wal-Mart, think of me dodging 18-wheelers and mini-buses on my bike to get to Chiang Mai's "produce section". :) And here you thought those little electric shopping carts blocking the aisles were annoying.

Not that shopping at Wal-Mart is always a bucket of roses. I know. But I forget, so don't remind me. I kinda like my delusional nostalgia.

p.s. No, Mom, I don't really do that...the dodging of the big rigs. If I'm tempted, I think of you on your knees at home and hit the brakes instead. :) Most of the time. And I always wear a helmet. :)

p.p.s. Is anybody wondering what in the world we're making for dinner? :)

a hymn for today

2010-11-16T20:02:00.000-08:00

A friend gave me this song recently, and it has been stuck on repeat in my head.

The melody is simple and lovely, but the words are what catch me most. It was the song of the Welsh Revival in the early 1900's. She told me that when revival was sweeping that land you could literally walk through the countryside and hear a church singing it on one side of a hill, come over the top and hear another church catching up the refrain on the other side.

And I think that's the way it is with revivals... aren't revivals really just those times when we catch a glorious glimpse of our Maker?
Aren't revivals times of discovery?... and remembrance?...because we are so prone to forget.

Here is Love Vast as the Ocean

here is love, vast as the ocean, lovingkindness as the flood,

when the Prince of Life, our Ransom, shed for us His precious blood.

who His love will not remember? who can cease to sing His praise?

He can never be forgotten, throughout Heavn’s eternal days.

on the mount of crucifixion, fountains opened deep and wide;

through the floodgates of God’s mercy flowed a vast and gracious tide.

grace and love, like mighty rivers, poured incessant from above,

and Heavn’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.

let me all Thy love accepting, love Thee, ever all my days;

let me seek Thy kingdom only and my life be to Thy praise;

Thou alone Shalt be my glory, nothing in the world I see.

Thou hast cleansed and sanctified me, Thou Thyself hast set me free.

in Thy truth Thou dost direct me by Thy Spirit through Thy Word;

and Thy grace my need is meeting, as I trust in Thee, my Lord.

of Thy fullness Thou art pouring Thy great love and power on me,

without measure, full and boundless, drawing out my heart to Thee.

Heaven's perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love...

...it doesn't get much more simple or beautiful than that! :)

Thought for Today

2010-11-15T20:44:00.000-08:00

“The greatest enemy of friendship is fear. Fear of man, as it is sometimes called, is a form of idolatry. It’s proof that people are being put in the place of God. Such fear may not always feel like fear, but it tends to manifest itself in one of two ways: either in the domination and control of others, or else in the need to impress people, standing in their shadow and letting them pull our strings. Either way the result is not friendship, but alienation. Fear is the inappropriate surrender of power.” –Mike Mason (Practicing the Presence of People)

2010-11-14T20:58:00.000-08:00

The Power of Your Name

-by Lincoln Brewster & Mia Fieldes

Surely children weren't made for the streets and fathers were not made to leave
Surely this isn't how it should be. Let Your Kingdom come.

Surely nations were not made for war or the broken meant to be ignored

Surely this just can't be what You saw. Let Your Kingdom come here in my heart.

I will live to carry Your compassion...

To love a world that's broken...

To be Your hands and feet.

I will give with the life that I've been given

And go beyond religion to see the world be changed by the power of Your name.

Surely life wasn't made to regret, and the lost were not made to forget.

Surely faith without action is dead. Let Your Kingdom come.

Your name is a shelter for the hurting.

Jesus, Your name is a refuge for the weak.

Only Your name can redeem the undeserving

Jesus Your name holds everything I need.

I will live to carry Your compassion...

To love a world that's broken...

To be Your hands and feet.

I will give with the life that I've been given
And go beyond religion to see the world be changed by the power of Your name.

from Pattaya

2010-11-12T19:59:00.002-08:00

It's not fair! Why have I been blessed with way more food than is healthy for me when there are others of God's children in an agony of hunger- emaciated, starving? Why do I complain about my mattress being too hard when there are many who have no place to lay their heads and who may not even survive the night? Why have I been taught what's right and given a personal choice about purity when there are girls being sold into the sex trade every day? Why do I know truth when many will die in the hopelessness of their lies? The answer is simple. You want to accomplish Your glory in and through me. You want to use me.

My heart bleeds for the travesty I see around me, but it is not enough. It is not enough to just see the need and realize how blessed I am. I am called to action. I can no longer pretend the ugliness is not out there, because I know it is. Will I squelch the burning in my heart? Will I forget?

God help me to never forget. I am ready to see the harvest as You see it. It isn't what I can do for You. It is what You can do through me. It is Your work, God. I am at times terrified of what it will cost me, but I am willing. Do it, Lord; accomplish Your will in me.

I wrote this over a year ago in response to what we saw in a class. It expresses my heart today as I sit here preparing to go and praise God in a city that knows almost nothing of Him. Why am I the one who knows Him? Why are peace and joy my daily companions while I see only sadness and despair on so many faces around me?

What was the reason, Lord, that You colored my world with Your salvation, and many of the people that I will see today will simply die in their ignorance of You? The only color they will know is blackness forever.

Karen Bible Camp

2010-10-30T19:31:00.000-07:00

It was my second camp. I felt like a pro going in. I came out feeling like a beginner.
I guess we're all pretty much beginners when it comes to a new day. :)

The camp was hosted in the village of Palapi, whose hospitality and kindness surpassed even the most generous southern hostess. I kid you not. They opened their homes to give us lodging, and gave us the best of what they had. They sat down with us and offered us companionship even when verbal communication was pretty much impossible. Every morning or evening when I would head back to the little shack to shower someone would run out to the road to turn on the water so I'd have enough. I don't know how they always saw me go, but they did. :) That's the slippery slope to the outhouse down there.

This little girl completely stole my heart. I stayed at her house, and at first she only looked at me with a very suspicious expression and gave me a wide berth. I could only guess what was going through her mind when I took my contacts out. I think she thought I was crazy poking my eyes like that. And then one night as I was sitting there getting ready for bed she marched over to me and plunked herself into my lap. Guess she decided she'd been shy long enough. :) She'd burrow in next to me in my sleeping bag at night until her mom came to find her, and loved to tease me by putting extra things in my backpack. Kittung, little Ploy. I miss you.

My group of girls was older than last year. And more worldly wise. And more guy crazy. And more fun. I'm pretty sure they pulled the wool over my eyes a time or two cause they were in their element in their village and I was so not in mine. :) The language barrier was also more frustrating this time around, but they were good about trying to clue me in to stuff. Mumu especially was a life saver with her knowledge of Karen, Thai, and English.

This guy is thirteen. And quite the ladies man. Half my girls had a crush on him. he he he

One night they told us we were going to experience true Karen hospitality. We went to village homes for supper as opposed to eating at the camp. My group went to at least 6 houses and had a blast. But lets just say that by the end of it, one more bite of rice would have done me in.

It struck me when we were doing camp that we were in the parts of Thailand from where children/women get trafficked into the sex trade. I don't know about this village so much, but I'm sure it happens in those mountains. I couldn't help but look at all the beautiful little girls and wonder what their future holds.

My job at camp, other than teaching English and being with the girls day and night, was to teach a cooking class. What a riot. I had two gas burners and two woks and a bunch of kids to keep busy. We made apple fritters, little Thai custard sandwiches, and fried bananas.

And then there was always Bible sessions and English lessons. I loved it when Pi Kluah would get them all pumped up in the praise and worship time. Those kids could sing.

I could say a bunch more, but I think it's time to peace out. :)

2010-10-06T21:54:00.000-07:00

It was the first call on the first day of my new job in Russia. I ran to the ambulance and hopped in, excited, and yet apprehensive. I was worried, because I remembered fainting at the sight of blood as a child- would I be able to take what awaited us at our destination?

The ambulance rounded a corner and there it was... a playground, next to the street. But where were the injured? Children ran about on all sides, laughing and playing. They had told us a land mine had just detonated, but it looked for all the world like any other normal day in Russia. And then I saw her, and my heart stopped.

They were running around her. Jumping over her. Bending to talk to her, and then laughing as they went on their way. And my heart broke wide open. She lay on her stomach just off the side walk. I couldn't believe she was still alive. The explosion had thrown her far, but that wasn't the worst it had done. She was only five years old and she wouldn't live to see the sun set.

Both her hands were missing. There was a gaping hole on her left side where her tummy should have been, and an obscene gash on her back. I can feel it now, the nausea rising in me. That horrified feeling in the pit of my stomach. She lifted her head to look at us as we ran over to her. One of the other EMT's glanced at her and went to look for others, saying loud enough for the shivering little girl to hear... "She won't make it."

I knelt beside her, trembling violently. She was sobbing, terrified. I was enraged at the children who ran around her as though nothing had happened. An unwitting child stepped on her foot, and I screamed at him.

I came as close as I dared. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." I didn't know what else to say. She looked at me, and spoke in Russian, and tried to move.

I was paralyzed. I couldn't speak her language. And I was so afraid of touching her and being the cause for more pain.

She spoke again. There was pleading in her eyes. She tried again to move, but could not get leverage without her hands. I reached out to touch her, and then pulled back, my hands hovering over her. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you want." We were both crying now. How was she still alive?

I saw sheer determination come into her eyes and, with a sob, she pulled herself up onto her elbows and hurled herself into my lap. I was stunned, but my fear of hurting her was gone. I put my arms around her and began to rock back and forth and sing.

She died a few minutes later, a quiet smile on her face.

And I woke up with a start, heart pounding. It was a dream. A dream.

I'm telling you about it because I felt God speaking to me so clearly in those first waking moments. They need My love. When you have no idea what to do to make it better, love them. When you've run out of words, simply love them. People don't want Words. They don't want to be Fixed. They need My love.

Do you have someone in your life who is going through a dark, dark valley? I do. We all walk through valleys. There are valleys of emotional and physical pain, valleys of death, valleys where it seems like God pulled out of our lives and authorized a "Job". You know, like, Job of the Old Testament.

Do you like me ever struggle with knowing how to relate to them? I want to be Christ to them, to lead them to wells in the valley they are passing through, because I've passed through valleys, too. But I don't know how. I am afraid of alienating them with thoughtless words. I am afraid of making them feel like a project. I am afraid of hurting them more. I am afraid that I will fail the ones that "God gives to me". I don't think God can use me.

I woke up and realized that the biggest problem is not me hurting or alienating or failing. The biggest problem is my fear. Fear of messing it up. Fear of getting messy. Fear of God using me. What?

Yes, it's true. It is much easier to stay on the sidelines and cheer the EMTs on. It is much easier to pretend that there is no problem and talk about the weather instead. It is much easier to be the ones laughing and playing and keeping a semblance of normalcy than it is to enter into this battle for life or death.

But entering in is what we are called to do. And our call can be spelled in four simple letters: L.O.V.E. It is fleshed out in a myriad of ways, but so many times love can simply be spelled by putting our arms around someone and allowing their pain to become our own for a moment.

To quote Gianna Jessen again: "There are things that you will only be able to learn by the weakest among us." And one of those things, I believe, is Calvary Love.

box of alabaster

2010-10-05T21:02:00.000-07:00

Alabaster Box, sung by CeCe Winans

She came to You with all she had, because she knew it was You who had given her everything.

She spent a year’s wages on a small box of alabaster that contained the most expensive perfume. The alabaster box was itself worth more than most people would pay for perfume. And this expensive container had to be broken.

I come to You with all I have, because I am sure. I’m sure that it is You who are behind every good thing that has happened to me. You allow these times of desperation that drive me to You. I flail into Your arms, and You wrap your arms of love around me.

She knew that she had found love. Or that Love had found her. Either way, she was risking everything. She wasn’t worried about people witnessing her lavish display of brokenness. She was consumed, overpowered by Grace.

And I leak Grace, too. I’m so full of it. I want it to spill from me. Scandalously. Healingly. Grace that covers a multitude of sins. I want that pure, all consuming Love… that way of remembering exactly where You found me and looked with no condemnation on me. I want this condemnation that has stolen over my soul to be dealt the death blow. You do not condemn me, neither do I condemn these my girls. Go, my beautiful ones. Go, and sin no more.

She needed His pardon more than she wanted life. She had come to the place where she was willing to face what was worse than death: the scorn of men who held all power over her. They were the ones who had used her. They may not have paid the price to spend a night with her, but they were the ones who condemned her, scorned her, hated her. Their profound dislike was rooted in their correctness. She WAS a sinner. She deserved their treatment. And yet she entered this room of condemnation and sorrow because she knew Jesus was holding out to her... Hope.

And Jesus looked past all of that fluff that the rest of us get so caught up in. He looked past the heavy makeup into her eyes, pools of broken pleading. I can only imagine that His own eyes went soft as He saw her desperate need of Him.

She was right where she needed to be.

Today I am here, too, Lord. Desperate need. Broken pleading. Sorrow and anguish for the pain of all those around me. Tomorrow I may forget, may get so caught up with the breaking of my alabaster box, that I forget I’m breaking it for You. I wish there was some way I could remember.

Will the scent of this perfume remind me that boxes were meant to be broken, and lives were meant to be spent for nothing but sheer love of You?

Adoration costs everything.

2010-09-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

It is the mercy of God that sustains you
even when you hate Him.
-Gianna Jessen, abortion survivor

see her testimony here

just life

2010-09-23T04:17:00.000-07:00

Here they are! It has been my great privilege to get to know these people. And with all of them gone on ministry trips or internships, this building is strangely sad and quiet. The first couple of days the quiet was pure bliss... :) -but now I'm ready for them to come back. They look almost angelic in that picture up there. Here's another one to set the record straight.

The last term was pretty crazy, hence the silence on this blog. I audited two classes, Biblical Theology of Missions by Collier Berkshire and The Church and Her foes by Val Yoder. Both classes were incredibly good...and I especially loved that fact that the homework was optional for me. :)

I am also helping with the mentoring program this semester. Delight and I had a wonderful time with "our" girls on Tuesday...sharing at a coffee shop in the morning, then a little bit of shopping and out for a late lunch before we headed home. p.s. Is it me, or does Thailand have the coolest chairs?

Six of the students left to do internships last week. Brian and Delmar to the West Bank, Melanie and Sharilee to Pattaya, Thailand, and Yvonne and Kim to Myanmar. Below is a bad picture of our farewell for Yvonne, Kim, Melanie, and Sharilee. We miss them like crazy, but how can we not be excited about them taking the light of Jesus to the darkness of places like Pattaya and Yangon? Pray for them if you think about it, because they are on the front lines doing battle for women in the sex trade or young girls who are likely to end up there.

^ Only in Thailand! -that's all I have to say about that. A little "farewell" for Delmar and Brian included the driving range and McDonalds. Hey. McDonalds is awesome. Stop snickering at us. Oh, that's not why you're snickering? : /

And then, it was a happy birthday indeed. Turning like a million years old isn't so bad after all. :) Ok, maybe I'm not a million, but I might be getting close. Jana shares the same birthday, so we had fun celebrating together all day long. :)

Parting Thought:

"The Gospel is only good news if it gets there in time." -Carl F. H. Henry

everybody fights

2010-08-30T10:05:00.000-07:00

It happens sometimes.

Yesterday I looked at the people around me (all good, fine, upstanding people... above-average people, if you please:) and felt a pang of disappointment. They were all human.

Now, here in Thailand we might get a little more real with each other than you people at home do, so maybe that's why the disillusionment crept in. :) I mean, over here, if you shower every time you break a sweat, you'd spend much of your days standing in the shower. And who has time for that? We shower once a week, whether we need it or not. And I'm pretty sure we all have permanent garlic breath (thanks to our wonderful chef), but we don't know, cause if everybody has garlic breath nobody can smell it! (our poor visitors) We see each other in the good times and the bad, and those company manners... yeah. We don't have them much anymore.

But you know what I mean. We expect people to be good. We hope that they are better than we are, cause we know we aren't naturally good. We are shocked when we hear that someone we love is not who we thought they were. We are disappointed to hear of moral struggles. We are dismayed at the arrogance and pride of others. We criticize our leaders and we criticize our followers. I'm using "we" very loosely here. By we, I mean "I". I want to relate with perfect people.

It would be easier if everybody else had their act together- then my bumbling, error-ridden, sin-prone contribution to family/society/church/peer-group wouldn't be as ...detrimental. Why is it that I offer my fellow Christians far less grace than I daily extend myself?

I'd like to take my cue from Jesus, and practice the presence of people the way He did. He does not love us less because of our humanity. He loves us in our humanity, while we are in the process of becoming less bumbling and sin-prone. He's not waiting for the day of our perfection to lavish His grace and love on us, but is doing so now- today! His example is beautiful and clear:

..."He could no more turn away from the helplessness of the vulnerable than He could cease to breathe. He did not judge them by their externals, but by the shape of their hungry, bleeding hearts. What must it have been like to lift my shame filled, guilty eyes to meet those eyes of compassion? What must it have been like to realize that Somebody knew “everything I ever did” and did not judge me, but rather offered me grace? What must it have been like to feel the water of Love washing over my thirsty, thirsty heart? …to feel His touch straightening my 80-year-old back and to hear Him call me daughter? …to know for the first time that I was valued as a woman, and not only valued, but cherished?"

Be kinder than you think necessary, for every one is fighting their own battle.

p.s.- I was kidding about the shower comment.
p.p.s.- we shower once a month.
nah. just messin' with ya. the new kids ~~may or may not~~ shower approximately three times a day.
but, remind me again, why am i talking about showers?!

elephants

2010-08-23T05:59:00.000-07:00

You haven't really lived until you've been hugged by one of these.

The elephant, I mean.

I'm pretty sure elephants have a sense of humor.

They have an amazing memory.

They give birth to 260 lb. babies.

Their brains weigh 11 lbs. (compared to 2.5 lb. human brains)

And here in Thailand, they can play soccer, paint pictures, and play the harmonica, and do all the other elephant stuff humans could never dream of doing. Well, maybe all Elephants can't do these things, but the ones at the elephant camp can.

Some days we see young elephants strolling down the streets of Chiang Mai.

We're definitely not in Kansas anymore.

delight in God

2010-08-22T10:28:00.000-07:00

This morning I read Psalm 37:4. I’ve always read that verse with a selfish little twinge of delight. If I delight myself in God, he will have to give me anything that I want! But this morning, God corrected the picture for me.

Delight yourself in the Lord. What does it mean to delight myself in anything? It means I long after and pursue and am thrilled upon discovery. It means I treasure it. It means I savor it. It means I think of little else besides it.

And in this case, my delight is a person, a being, a sovereign God above all other addictions and gods. Delight in Him is my salvation. Because as I delight in One who is Holy and Good, my desires are changed to what is holy and good. As I delight in His righteousness, He cleanses me. As I trust His faithfulness and goodness, He proves to me that hard, yet thrilling, yet terrifying truth, that nothing, absolutely nothing, but Him will satisfy. He is a rock, a strong tower when I am too weak to stand, let alone fight. He is everything good that’s ever happened to me. He is the One who is changing me, when change is what I want, even when I desperately fight it. He loves me enough to hurt me, when giving me all I could ask for would destroy me.

I’m beginning to see, really, that the desires of my heart are simple. I want to know God. And I want that knowledge to change my life. Through all the desperate deserts of my faithlessness and the sea of my ignorance and doubt, through the mountains and valleys of false hopes and dreams He is leading me to Him. It’s not in spite of my journey. It is all of it part of Him writing His redemption and glory on another human heart. It is Him teaching me to love Him when I cannot touch Him. And isn’t that one of the greatest miracles of all?

Thai Cooking Class

2010-08-19T23:29:00.000-07:00

It started in a garden. She told us about ginseng and holy basil and Thai chilies and how they grow and what they taste like. She showed us how to use egg shells to repel insects. Organic gardening is where it's at.

After our garden tour, we walked to a local market just inside the moat, across busy streets, and down back alleys. She showed us where to buy rice and noodles, and many other things. Someone in the class pointed out one vendor's sign that read "Horse Pee Eggs" and underneath it some shockingly pink eggs. Now, with grammatical errors quite common in these parts, it could have been the vendor meant to say something else. But even if that was what he meant to say... why were they... pink??

After the thrills and trauma of the market (piles of fresh meat sitting out in the heat, beautiful flowers, fruit and vegetables galore) we headed back to our base. Gay, our lovely, talented teacher, lined us up neatly in a row and taught us many things.

...how to make spring rolls

...how to make Thai salads (papaya, glass noodle, etc.) Kris made a mean glass noodle salad.

...how to make aMAZing deep-fried bananas. I know sounds suspicious, but it is scrummy.

Next there was a great amount of chopping and dicing and pounding for the curries. "Curries" sounds innocent, but nothing about a Thai curry is innocent! I managed to pick one that I actually liked. They are powerfully spicy and are comprised of garlic and lemongrass and ginger and coriander and ginseng and a handful of HOT peppers, among other things. The broth base is coconut milk. Yeah, a bunch of wild flavors getting all happy together. My curry went into a dish called Khao Soi... mmm, good.

And then it was showtime! We each cooked our own curry dish.

And our stir-fries. And our desserts. And then the best part of all, digging in!

We had a fascinating cast of characters. :) There was Kris and I from the Americas. There was a family who's dad's name was Mervin (his name fit him puhfectly) from the UK. He was actually Irish and she was Italian, but they live in England. Their son, who couldn't have been more than 11 years old, loved every minute of it, and Mervin... well, his tolerance for painfully hot peppers earned him all of our respect. The rest of us would gingerly add 2 or 3 of the most innocent looking peppers, and he heedlessly dumped them in by the handful. I thought the Irish ate potatoes! :) And then there was a French family on holiday, whose heavily accented English couldn't mask a wonderful sense of humor. We cooked together, ate together, and parted as friends.

For those of you unfortunate souls who sampled my "Thai" cooking when I was home: I am now much better equipped! :) I now know the rules of sweet and salty. I know that onion is never used as an aromatic (like garlic, ginger, etc.) but always as a vegetable, and many other things that may not seem so important, but it's the difference between lovin' the food and standing there perplexed, wondering why it never tastes quite right.

So, in short, we were all thrilled to discover we could cook Thai food that is quite tasty, actually.
a link to the website for the cooking class: http://www.asiascenic.com/

happy things

2010-07-14T00:36:00.000-07:00

a bunch of cymbidium orchids: three dollars

a wall makeover: four dollars

unexpectedly humorous paperweights: who knows?

(I wish you could see the expressions on the figurines' faces)

coffee with friends: two or three dollars

being friends with a turtle: priceless

Happy Wednesday to you!

the skin of this world

2010-07-10T10:23:00.000-07:00

We live as spiritual beings in a physical universe. Most often, the truest thing about us cannot be seen or touched. I can touch you physically, but I cannot touch your soul. I can look into your eyes, but I cannot see if your heart is black as night or pure and clean. I can thank you, but I cannot decide if you offered me water because you loved me or because you wanted to receive recognition. I can take a photo of your face, but I can't capture your mind. Do you see what I mean?

And the spiritual metamorphosis that happens when we enter the Kingdom of Heaven, cannot be witnessed in a mirror. I don't wake up my first morning of being a Christian and find my curly hair is suddenly straight. I don't rush to the mirror and find out I'm completely changed. No, the change happens in my spirit.

But He chose this life, this physical reality, as the medium with which to paint the story of His love for us. Just as the words "I love you." written on a page can change someone's whole life, so God whispering, shouting, singing it to us through our physical realities changes us forever. The words are important, yes, but they aren't the point. The point is that He Loves Us! The words only reflect that. This life is important, absolutely, but it isn't even the best life. The best life is yet to come.

Beyond the skin of this world, beyond the motions of this life- these things we must do to survive- lies a world we walk in everyday. A world where a healed body is nothing compared to a healed heart. A world where the ones who would kill our body really matter far less than the ones who would steal our souls. A world where it is possible to embrace poverty with joy because money is just money, not a powerful force controlling most of what we do. A world where service is more important than climbing a ladder, and giving someone a cup of cold water in Jesus' name counts for more than owning a Fortune 500 company. A world where the poor in Spirit are the greatest, and the proud are about to fall. A world where LeBron James is not greater than Mike Viars. A world where the stature of a man is not measured by a yardstick, but by the size of his heart. A world where every longing can be answered by turning to God, not to addictions.

But did you ever wonder this: why did God create the most important reality to be... invisible? Surely, for us to get it right, we would need to have visual "reminders", at least. How are we supposed to love Someone we've never even seen? Did He know how idolatrous we would become toward what is merely reflections of Him in this world? Didn't He know that it would be easier if we could see and touch Him?

But as it is, we spend much of our lives forgetting and remembering. We ache for something we don't have, but seldom wonder why, or understand Who it is we long for. We try to quench our unbearable thirst with addictions. I was wondering the other day if it isn't true that everything that has the potential to draw us to God also has the potential to addict us to itself. If mere reflections of Him in our physical universe are addicting, what must it be like to fully know Him, to know Him unseparated into realms of physical, spiritual, emotional, mental as we do now? Do I truly know what it's like to worship the Creator more than I "worship" His creation?

"God, you made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in you." -Augustine

believer

2010-07-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

Are you a believer?
If so, what do you believe? Because what you believe is the most important thing about you.

I asked someone that tonight. Or maybe I used more "politically correct" words, like: are you a man of faith?

He didn't answer me right away. He was sitting beside me on the side of one of the darkest, dirtiest streets in Chiang Mai, known for its brothels and bars. He was a farang, a foreigner. Foreigners on that street usually have only one purpose, and I was all too aware of what that purpose was. But he seemed different. He wasn't halfway to being plastered. He wasn't disrespectful. In fact, my first impression was that he seemed lonely.

He began talking, and his knowledge of scripture nearly blew me away. He was vacationing in one of the most risqué parts of the city, yet he told me he was working his way through the New Testament on this trip.

He was eager to please, agreeing with me when I disagreed with him on parts of his theology. The last thing he wanted to do was argue. Actually, it was the last thing I wanted to do, too. We discussed his belief in a loving, albeit unjust God who hurls people into hell. We discussed his disbelief that there even is a hell.

We parted amiably, probably both feeling like we had made the other think. I know he made me think. This is what he told me at one point of the conversation:
An atheist once said: If I believed like you do, if I knew there was a heaven and a hell, and that you could be saved from hell by believing in Jesus, I'd be doing a ____ whole lot more than what you are doing. I'd be crawling over broken glass and rocks to tell people. You couldn't stop me if you tried! If this is true, why aren't you doing something about it? Why are you all sitting around "playing games" when half of the world is perishing in your so-called hell?

Maybe it's ok if we don't tell others. Maybe they'll find out on their own.
But I doubt that those who have never heard the gospel because we didn't believe the impetus was ours would say so. I doubt they would shout to us as they plunge into hell: "Oh, you knew, but you didn't believe it was your job to tell us. That's ok. I'll be fine."

It's what my friend was wrestling with tonight. It's what I wrestle with daily. Because to meet God and to believe Him means you cannot remain the same. If I believe like I say I do, the world will know. They simply will. I won't be like them. I will be like God. And I won't be able to keep quiet.

I think what I'm trying to say is that a believer's default is missionary. It's not something he becomes for a year or two, or if he's really serious, maybe 7 or 8 years.

In the sobering words of Charles Spurgeon: "Someone once asked, Will the heathen who have never heard the Gospel be saved? It is more a question with me whether we, who have the Gospel and fail to give it to those who have not, can be saved."

What do you believe?

I figure that man had no idea his conversation with me would spawn a blog post. In truth, I had no idea either. :) I just felt that God wanted me to share it, and you can do with it what you will.

a slice of life

2010-06-24T08:24:00.000-07:00

the students are all out on ministry trips right now. for me that means vaycayshun.

well, sort of.

somehow the days still fill up to the brim,

but it's a relaxing kind of full

...a chance to catch up on thoughts and books

...and to learn about the work of Ransoming the ones sold into slavery

...and to sit with friends in coffee shops and talk about What's Important

...and to work on yearbooks

today i ate lunch in this typical restaurant on the street.

i had my favorite: stir fried pork with holy basil

this is not pork with holy basil, but rather some of the best Chicken-fried rice around.

nope. no pic of the pork stuff. it was too good to wait. :) next time.

^ and tonight it was the J House with it's

lovely and spirited chef who makes the most Amazing

Chicken with Cashew Nut.

^ the chef's daughter. delivery with a smile

^ juggling the books and cooking amazing food: all in a day's work

and then tonight after the rain washed the air clean and cool

thank-you, Jesus!

I headed down this road to spend some time with friends.

Sharilee and I took an ~~energetic little boy~~ *holy terror*

for a bike ride to the local market

where he proceeded to be mesmerized by a vendor's

tote of frogs, much to the vendor's amusement and Sharilee's dismay.

He was particularly fond of shoving a handful of frog in your face.

We helped him jump the mud puddles and listened to his tall tales

and did our best not to chuckle out loud.

Drove back home with his little arms squeezing my midsection

and his helmeted head whipping back and forth to take it all in.

love that little guy

And that was my today.

what I've been doing...

2010-06-21T01:13:00.000-07:00

i was simply thrilled to be home over strawberry season

it's odd the things you crave when you have to do without

strawberries i can understand, and even fresh peaches and sweet corn...

...but Mt. Dew? and Dr. Pepper? i hardly ever drank those things in america, but now?!

they haunt my dreams

there ^ that's something else ~~i miss~~ that haunts my dreams. :)

just had to include this picture

those things don't even go fast enough to knock over

one of those little old lady greeters.

:: not that i would ever try ::

but they are lifesavers when you are shopping late at night and hardly have energy to walk.

the little old lady at the door told me she races her friends on those things.

so THAT'S what you kids do for fun!

do not judge us

you weren't in that car filled with peonies.

if you don't think you have allergies

try driving for an hour and a half with bucketfuls of them.

actually, don't. trust me on this.

the reason for the flying trip home

so glad i was able to be there to celebrate with you guys!

it may have rained on our parade.

it may have rained so hard that we had to move everything from the tent

into the crowded, decidedly less romantic church basement.

it may have rained so hard that i got a little bit mad. ok, maybe a lot mad.

but these girls were part of the silver lining to all those rain clouds. ^

and more silver lining ^

with my awesome youngest brother

all seven of us ::kids:: were in the bridal party

i'll let you guess if we had fun or not

lot's of love going around. :)

yes, they were only kidding

pops, wondering where he went wrong :)

with one of my favorite guys in the whole world

welcome to the family, Dani.

you fit perfectly. :)

:: June 5. 2010. ::

it marked the end of all the preparations :)

it marked the end of so much that you had to go through to get to this point

but i see it more as a beginning:

a beginning to the very best days...

...the rest of your lives.

And I can't wait to see what God will do for and through you.

***

i flew back to my other home a few days after the wedding
this is what my creative bunch had dreamed up as a welcome home. :) hmmm. interesting.

on that happy note
i bid you adieu

His Grace Still Amazes Me

2010-05-09T09:52:00.000-07:00

I know I'm kinda stuck on Grace... but three times this week it was the topic of either a chapel or a sermon or something, and it feels like God is wanting to show me something about His grace. It feels alot like a verily, verily clause in the Bible... if you see those words, that means you should sit up and take notice. :) So I sat up. And this is what I noticed.

Grace... what does it mean to you? Unmerited favor, certainly. But what does it mean for me as I relate with nonbelievers? What does grace look like in my church? And the more I heard, the more I wondered, Do I even have a clue? Because Friday night, as I listened to Philip Yancey tell stories about startling gifts of grace, I realize that I have cleaned it all up in my mind.

Take, for instance, Nelson Mandela, a south-African leader who spent 27 years in prison for his anti-apartheid activities. Upon his release and election as president, most suspected that he would waste no time putting to rights the wrongs done against him, but this is what Mandela said- We don't have time for revenge. We don't even have time for justice. Let's show the world the way of grace. And he proceeded to lead his country in that way. He had just spent 27 of his best years in prison, and while there, his fellow countrymen endured heinous treatment by their oppressors, stories too awful to tell. And yet, they chose to forgive, and to offer grace.

When Jesus was on earth, he spent much of His time with sinners. And the people He condemned were the good people. HUH? Did you ever wonder why that was? (If you doubt it, go through the gospels and make a list for yourself: people Jesus condemned and people Jesus showed compassion to.) We as Christians tend to "clean up" the gospel stories, but the theme is clear... Grace to the sinners; Hard truth for the self-righteous.

And here I have a confession to make: I have often viewed grace as the unimportant side kick to truth. Yeah, it was important, but Truth... now Truth is life or death! But this is what I am learning. Truth alone has brought more death. Truth was never meant to be separated from Grace. We've separated it, and in so doing, we have effectively chased away the very people that Jesus welcomed with open arms and embraced those that He condemned. We've separated it because we don't do well with juxtaposition... we tend toward extremes. Either Truth or Grace.

But it's the beautiful blending of the two that makes the Gospel so powerful in our lives. It's Truth offered with Grace that changes lives, and Grace tempered by Truth that sets people free.

Think it sounds easy? Me neither. I have yet to read P. Yancey's book, "What's so Amazing About Grace?", but I can't wait to. I'm so willing to receive His grace, to believe in it, to be Amazed by it, but I want to learn what it means to offer that grace to the people I rub shoulders with everyday. I want to learn what that means for those outside the Evangelical Christian bubble, those so often excluded by our hard truths: addicts, homosexuals, you name it.

I want Him to Amaze someone else by His Grace, and I want Him to be able to use me.

More about grace and truth: he said it better than me :)

Val played this video in chapel on Monday morning... and I've watched it several times since then. It reminds me of an old Literature lesson... so many layers to peel off and explore. :) If you didn't Attend AMC and take the Big Green Literature Book, just disregard the above comment. :)

of students and churches

2010-04-28T07:12:00.000-07:00

ENERGETIC. VISIONARY. PASSIONATE. COMPASSIONATE. EAGER. SURRENDERED. FUN-LOVING. WILLING. PURPOSEFUL.

These are all words that could be used to describe this semester's group of students. And in all honesty, these are the words that described most of us when we arrived here in Thailand, full of the call and our own willingness to go.
Did they describe us when we went home? Time will tell it's stories on us, because Home is where it really counts. Home, and wherever else He leads us.

As part of student orientation on Monday, Rick was up to his old tricks in Park 7, taking the students through some pretty awesome illustrations of teamwork and church life. Last year I was part of the huddle. This year I got to watch, and I'd like to tell you a little of what I saw from my (Canon :) point of view.

Being part of a team requires much of you, but when you are needed and supported, the blood and sweat and tears are easily worth it. Teamwork is beautiful. Together Everyone Achieves More. You can take something that looks insurmountable........

... and like totally "surmount" it! (untying the knot below while never letting go of your rope) To beat the odds, you will have to communicate. And you will have to be willing to follow your leader. And you will have to be willing to share what you are thinking. And you will need humor. :)

Sometimes working together with other Christians feels like it requires too much of us. We are asked to do things we don't feel comfortable with. Our personal space is invaded. We must abandon our comfort zones.

Sometimes its just purely frustrating! They don't get it! They aren't listening to me! Communication involves two aspects: talking and listening. Could it be that sometimes I need to shut up and listen. Maybe?

***

For the next exercise, Rick divided the students into 3 teams. Their job was to conquer a 3 part obstacle course, but there were complications. :) One team was blind. Another team had their legs tied together. And another team could not speak. The rules were simple: Each member of the team must pass the obstacles, and no member could at any time let go of the rope.

They immediately set off to conquer their course. The dumb team had no trouble, because no part of the course required speech. The maimed and halt team had a little more difficulty, but were able to get it done.

The blind team on the other hand!... they were sad and comical and utterly devoid of progress. :)

While everyone was waiting for them to get their first team member past the first hurdle, Rick finally called a halt and had himself a little teachable moment.

And it is so true. Why DO we make everything a competition? I think we do it almost without thinking. We do it in church life, we do it with our homes, we do it with relationship, we do it with our families. And some of us "do perfectly fine" with the competition. We can out-shine, out-design, out-smart, and out-love the best of them. But what about the "blind"... the ones who can't handle it, can't compete? Do we care about those members of the body? Jesus made it very clear that His Kingdom wasn't about competition when James and John's mother came to Him. Is that message still as clear to us today?

And so the 3 groups started over, and watching them brought tears to my eyes. When they were forced to be in community with other "handicaps", the Silent Team's own handicap became glaring. Communication was down, but, you know what? they found a way around it. Love always finds a way. For the blind team it took so much trust to walk in the way that their silent companions led them. And when it came down to it, it was the maimed and halt that finally took leadership and got everyone through the obstacle course in time to get home to supper.

It took trust to be in this community. It took initiative as much as it took compassion. It took grace as much as it took direction. It required apologies for stomped toes and misguided feet. It took verbal encouragement. It took hollering and nudging and pushing, and good hearted joking when frustrations mounted.

And what I saw before my eyes was a teeny tiny picture of church. Don't you think He knew about the hurdles when He made us to live in community? And don't you think He'd like to see us crossing them like this?

Anything But Amazing

2010-04-25T22:09:00.000-07:00

Have you ever caught yourself singing Amazing Grace as though grace was anything but amazing?
Or said Good Morning in a voice of doom?
Or found yourself growing calloused to beauty?

I've been there. I'm there right now. I found myself singing Amazing Grace yesterday with a long face and a wandering mind. My thoughts had moved on to "bigger and better". How can I spruce up my reality? How will I survive the week? What was it like to be cold? Wonder what we're having for lunch.

I am far too easily pleased.

It's startling how quickly we accustom ourselves to the miracle of life. The unimaginable parts of creation don't seem so unlikely to us. We become bored with our reality because we cease to see the miracles taking place all around us everyday.
We loose sight of glorious truth and sink into preposterous falsehood. I sometimes think Big Lies are born when what is unimaginable becomes manageable. Maybe that's how Evolution and Postmodernism and The Others were born. And maybe taking a step back and admitting that there really are some things that are just beyond me and my finite mind would allow the picture to un-distort itself, shift back into focus. Dynamic Faith is so essential to believe Truth, and because it requires faith doesn't make it any less true.

I was wondering if maybe I have tried too hard to manage the Truth. In so doing, I have lost the childlike wonder... the ability to be ok with things I cannot explain or see. I have somehow ceased to see the daily miracles, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. As someone once said, there are two ways to view life: One as though nothing is a miracle, and the Other as though everything is.

And so for you:

Has the wonder of a God who smeared His blood on the cross for you gripped your heart lately? Have you stopped to look around at the miracle of life bursting from every leaf, every blade of grass, every human face? Has the miracle of eternal life in the midst of decay and dying brought you hope? Have you been able to rest in the fact that He is, even now, even in the midst of whatever pain you are experiencing, producing the Eternal Weight of Glory in you? That what is Now, is really nothing, nothing compared with what's to Come?

Thailand, again

2010-04-17T07:59:00.000-07:00

Four months later, I'm back again.

And these are a few of my favorite things about Thailand:

Cerulean blue skies framed by swaying palm fronds: I love to lay and look up at skies like this. It's a beauty that almost hurts. Of course, maybe it's the sunburn that hurts the most.

The scent of plumeria and jasmine and fragrances I cannot name: Imagine driving down one of the meandering passageways of Koolpunt 5 and crushing a literal bed of fragrant blossoms. No bride strolling down the aisle ever had it this good.

A bright blue Yamaha named Gertrude: I'm passing a distasteful nickname on to my trusty bike. :) Eat that, Jared.

Being part of a team that is hungry and passionate for God: it was so good to connect with many of them at the staff retreat the past 3 days. If there were one word to describe this group, I'd say it's organic. The worship time this morning was a combination of soul stirring praise, sparse honesty, confession, and compassion. It was real. At times it was raw. But at the heart of it all was a common bond that ties us all together, a bond that makes it possible to be so far away from family and friends. And this bond is a desire to make God's name great... in spite of, and through, our humanity.

The shy sweet smile of Thai babies: it starts in their eyes and smushes up their cheeks and melts your heart.

The IGo baby boom: Craig and Rachel welcomed Bomani Leon on Wednesday. He joins Juby Latin in IGo's honorary nursery, which will soon include Arlin and Kayla's little one. Life is sweeter when there are babies to hold.

The aroma's of Thai food: of course, the taste is even better. I tried to cook a few Thai meals when I was at home, but the ingredients were either too expensive or not available, and nothing ever tasted just right. It is a relief to tuck into a plate of Khao Phat Gai and not wonder how I could have made it better.

Rotee! Who knew banana egg rotee could be so good? I think Lorida owes me one. Just checking to see if she's reading this.

Iced Coffee and Chai Yen: have yet to lay my hands on one, but if this heat keeps up, it will soon be the only thing I feel like consuming.

Learning to drive Gertrude: I ventured out onto Hang Dong for the first time today, and I survived, Mom. :) Saw a little bird tonight that was learning how to fly (actually got dive-bombed on by the mom when we were just trying to be helpful). When someone wondered what all the commotion was, I blurted out that the little bird was trying to learn how to drive. Ummm... that would be, FLY. I'M the one that's learning how to drive. I feel 16 again. :) Forgot how fun this was.

Thai massage: a nice name for being crawled upon, sat upon, elbowed mercilessly, stepped on, and tossed over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but oh, the deep tissue good it does! It's like going to a chiropractor, only ten times better. I should mention I've never been to a chiropractor.

Sometime I'll post pictures of these things. This time around I would love to give you a taste of what life in Thailand really is like, at least from my perspective. I know, it's only words and pictures and it's from my perspective, and it's not like being here, but its the best I can do.

A quote that blessed me this week: "I bore your sins and I wish to carry your burdens. You may take the gift of a light and mery heart. My love dispels all fear."

Rejoicing in Him...

2010-02-03T13:24:00.000-08:00

Since I've been on a blogging tear lately (not), here's an old post that I for some reason wrote and didn't upload.

Do you ever take one look at what lies ahead of you and wish it lie-d elsewhere?

I have. Many times.

8 years old- Looking at the 5- gallon pail full of peas waiting to be "flicked" :) and feeling the sorrow in my soul. Sunshiny summer days were not meant to be filled with peas, or any kind of work.
18 years old- Standing at the door of a particularly decrepit house, knowing that I "had" to clean it. I had promised my friend. Actually, I approached most of my houses with that dread. But my pea-pail lesson had been hard learned.
Almost 28 years old- Blinking in sad discouragement. I don't think they'll ever get it. I'd thought these thoughts before, the last time I taught kindergarten. Such a delicate job, this preparing youngsters for a lifetime of prescribed education. "Shhh. You may not talk in the classroom." "Please sit in your seats." "Beautiful 's' there!" -I could put myself on autopilot and say these phrases over and over and over again and it would be little different than the un-autopilot me. And then I wonder what business I have introducing the long vowel/silent 'e' concept into their overloaded brains. They'll never get it. They can't even sit on their seats for 5 minutes. Maybe they can just read short vowel books for the rest of their lives. Bring up the sales on Dick and Jane.
Nevertheless, tomorrow I begin again. Because we were all at this place once in life. There was somebody there to believe in us when we couldn't even spell believe.

It's one way to spell love, this gentle prodding along. "We know what we are, but not what we shall become." -W. Shakespeare

And I'm here today because people did things they did not want to do.

I've been thinking lately about that, about the sacrifices my parents in particular have made for me.

Many Sleepless nights
Thousands of storybooks while the work just waited
Working so hard
And yet having Time for us
Caring for the sick when they were sick
Giving us freedom when we had "taken" theirs

and doing all that and more with so much love that we never knew what it was costing them. Sometimes I think they hardly knew, and that's maybe the beauty of it. A way to spell Love.

So maybe spelling Love means going in there tomorrow and telling them that o says 0 when there is an e at the end... not because they'll get it but because that's what love does. It believes. And gently it pushes along.

Silences are good...

2010-01-26T13:56:00.000-08:00

... I suppose they mean I have a life. :)

The past 2 months have been a whirlwind of crazy and good. The silence was probably more because I was struggling to catch up with the whirlwind (leaving Thailand, spending a few weeks at home, coming to Florida -weddings, holidays, new job) and accept that it is just a part of my life right now.

Being "home" has been different than I ever thought it would be. Home has been redefined, because I can never quite feel as though I am truly home. It's what they told us it would be like, and I take comfort in the fact that "home is where He is"... we really won't be home until we are Home.

My latest venture has been to sub for the Kindergarten and 1st Grade teacher here at Sunnyside while she attends CBS... and what a ride! Today was my first day with all of them in the classroom. Let's hope this drowning sensation quickly subsides. :) No, it's not that bad. It's worse.... yup, I'm a pessimist.

But such dear children! I love their fresh perspectives on life. I find their concept of geography amusing, too. They were talking about being related to people all over the world as children of Adam (who of us hasn't had that conversation? nothing like realizing you were "related" to President George H. W. Bush!) Lori was delighted to find that she has cousins in "Texas! and Jericho! and Hartwell, Georgia! and Alaska!"

And of course, living with Rosita has been splendid. :) I've probably laughed more than I did all year and had many vehement conversations about life in general :) -and it is good for the soul.

Last weekend my friend Claire Bleu came to visit. It wasn't nearly long enough, but we had enough time to go to the beach one morning and take some photos with her camera. I'll leave you with a few. You can now go back to your (by now welcome) silence. :) Ciao

that's what you call a fish out of water^

upcoming trip

2009-11-23T05:17:00.000-08:00

I've tried posting things in the last several weeks, but blogger seemed to be having some difficulties. So we'll try again.

Here's the scoop... We are officially done with studying! Our last exams were on Friday. I crossed the finished line almost without realizing it, and then wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry! In some ways I envied those who could only laugh, so relieved to be done with endless homework. To me it felt almost more bitter than sweet. I've learned so much, changed almost without knowing it, that being done is sad. Trust me, I sure didn't think I would be saying this when I was staring bleary-eyed at my computer at 11:47 p.m., but I guess everything looks rosier in hindsight.

My next trip will be to China. We sure would your prayers. It will probably be the trip that stretches me the most. :) I'm learning to say those words with anticipation, not dread. Baby steps.

Most of you know I will be coming back next year as dean. For those of you who didn't, now you know! So excited, and a little apprehensive. :)

I tried to include a few pics of the last several weeks so this is not an entirely boring post, but blogger wouldn't have it. Check my facebook if you'd like.

God bless!

Karen (kuh-REN) Bible Camp

2009-10-31T07:47:00.000-07:00

You're probably wondering where I disappeared to- or maybe you don't care- but either way, the answer is Northern Thailand (and various places around Chiang Mai and IGo before that :D ). Blogging just isn't at the top of the list these days. :(

My fifth ministry trip was to a Karen village in Northern Thailand for a kids' Bible Camp orchestrated by a team from GTO. A whole pile of students from here went... I think about 20 or so. It was the first trip where I really didn't want it to end. Yeah, a real shower and a soft bed with no spidery bedfellows was nice, but once again, I left part of my heart in the village. I miss my girls.

Most of us were camp counselors and we pretty much had our kids with us 24/7. My girls were nine years old and more independent, so when we had a little free time in the afternoon they would run off by themselves, probably delighted to be rid of their linguistically handicapped guardian. Ah, language barriers. Hate 'em. Try signing to someone that it's time to go clean the bathrooms, and you'll see what I mean. Or if you're them, try asking your counselor if you can GO to the bathroom. How do you sign that? They were good sports, though, and I loved 'em for it. I struggled initially with having 4 shy girls that only stared at me when I tried to communicate with them. But I found it interesting how God answered my prayers even in that: we had a spider the "size of Texas" in our room one night, and I proceeded to hyperventilate, just knowing that he was going to weasel into my sleeping bag as soon as the lights were off. I flailed a sandal at it and missed by a mile. One of my girls marched over and grabbed my sandal from me proceeded to snuff that things' little light out like a pro. She then picked it up with her BARE hand and tossed it out the window. Only then did I realize that all the little girls were snickering at me as though I'd lost my mind. So, maybe it took me looking like a fool, but the ice was finally broken.
The children were an inspiration to me. They had very little, but they were so content with what they had. They were thrilled to win dish soap as a contest prize, and when given a choice, chose powder and soap over coloring books. Their joy was contagious. For 98% of them, it was the first time they were hearing about Jesus. They drank it up like sponges. Their parents did too, for that matter. Toward the end of camp, there were almost more adults hanging around the outskirts of the evening service than there were kids inside. Ripe fruit, folks, waiting to be picked. The next batch of pictures are credit of my friend Coleen, a talented individual who designed the camp logo and the kids crafts and captured a lot of the camp on her camera. Oh, and she paints, too. Credit to whom credit is due, Miss Coleen.

dogs and chickens were a large part of camp, too. :) the dog below is eating the offering intended for the spirits

sleeping quarters for the girls the first night
this is what the counselors got to do all week... make fools of themselves.
view of the surrounding countryside.

Blessing and Mae... Mae was the camp cook

this was a usual sight at the entrances

for those of you unfamiliar with squatty potties and dip showers... here they are. and might i add the most invigorating dip showers were in the morning when you were already cold!

believe it or not, i could have added a bunch more pictures, but i would hate to bore you.

It was such a privilege to be the ones to tell these precious children about Jesus. Pray that God would raise up missionaries out of this bunch to take the gospel to their own people and change the land of Thailand forever.

Thanks again for your prayers, all those of you who have been praying faithfully.

2009-10-08T01:24:00.000-07:00

I scratched this in church one morning during testimony time-
came across it today, and felt the urge to share it.

God, what do we do when You let our mothers die
and our fathers lose their way?

God, what do we do when the people we love don't love You
and the people who love You don't love us?

God, what do we do when people kill babies
and every other form of life, just because they can?

God, what do we do when change doesn't leave us alone
and just when we think it gets bad it gets much much worse?

God, what do we do? What do we do?

There are some things that will never make sense.
There will always be this ache outside of Eden.
There will always be this painful prod of change in the middle of our backs.

And then we sang #48 and #689 in Songs of Faith and Praise...
and I felt the shift

We turn to You, and our faces change into expressions of awe.
We still cry the tears through our surprise...
but something in our hearts has lifted.

We feel more than ever that we might have come home.
This light, this Glory, is home. We are at home in You.
Somehow, unexplainably, it gives purpose to the pain.

Be Still, my soul. Your God is on your side.

Malaysia

2009-10-04T06:43:00.000-07:00

A few photos and words about our time in Malaysia...

We had an amazing trip. We divided our time between Kuala Lumpur (the capital city) and Melaka (an ancient port town) which was where the youth conference was held.

We got to know our hosts pretty well. :) Peter and Janet Shankar are amazing folks- so fun to be with! Even though we were volunteering for their organization, it felt like we received so much, both from them and from the conference as a whole. (The STAMP booth below.)

I got to dress up as an Indian woman as I explained Hindu culture at the booth. Saris are complicated!! :)
.In Ministry Trip terms, this was by far the most padded, luxurious one any of us have been on! (Malaysia is quite Western, and KL is a huge, TALL city). But really, exposure to the mobilization side of missions was good for us, and it is exciting to see what God is doing in Malaysia. He is raising up a generation that prays for their country (which is predominantly Muslim) and preparing them to go forth into the neighboring nations.

At the conference, I found it interesting that their immediate association of us girls was not with the Amish or even Nuns (as is usually the case :) but rather Muslims. To them, only the Muslim women cover their heads. Christians doing so was a novel concept to them.

Our trip consisted of helping with conference logistics (registration, workshop assistants, etc.) but we also got to be part of the main sessions and joined in their small discussion groups. (that's mine, below.)

We probably had more fun than we ought to have had. ;) We got to tear around KL in a little *smart* car and had amazing Nando's chicken and banana leaf food and did shocking things like go to McDonalds at 3:00 in the morning- Peter's idea. :) It wasn't all fun and games, but it did include that!

And we also got to meet and talk with missionaries from all over the world and sit under their teaching. Truly blessed.

Random shots of the girls below:

***

Classes are back in full swing.

Excerpt from Acts class, on being bold for Christ:

"In countries like N. Korea, the worst thing that can happen to you when you witness for the Christ is you get killed. In America, pretty much the worst that can happen is somebody might call you 'stupid' and throw a french fry at you."

-amazing how afraid we are of a french fry

So you know how to pray

2009-09-14T03:10:00.000-07:00

Wow... it's hard to believe that the first term of Second Semester is over. Two more to go, and I'll be crossing the pond back to the Heart of It All. :) I remember thinking after the first ministry trip that there was no way I could possibly do 5 more rounds of classes and trips, but here we are, past the halfway point and the intensity didn't "kill" me. Seriously, folks... it's only by the grace of God, and the kindness of the people here at IGo. They know what they put us through, and even if they don't apologize, they care for us well.

The little sporadic posts of the past weeks are simply the overflow from a very full heart and mind. I know there are folks who would rather have pictures than my feeble attempts at prose, but the truth is there wasn't a lot of picture taking going on. Well, not by me, anyhow... the new girls, now that's a different story. Grins. They take pictures of things like songtaws and khao-phat-gai and Buddhist monks and I have to remind my puffed up self that that was me not so long ago. Give 'em time. Funny how you adjust to the new normal.

Life in a dorm filled with 20 girls has it's pros and cons, but I have been loving the interaction with some amazing women. We have been blessed. And I am getting to the point where the lack of personal space doesn't even drive me crazy -at least most of the time.

We leave for Malaysia on Wednesday to help with a conference. There will be six of us on the team, with the other four teams going to Tibet, China, Laos, and Cambodia. My next two trips will be Northern Thailand and China, respectively.

Pray for us. We are launching out of our comfort zones again. :) Good things usually happen when you leave those behind. Here's a link to the website about the conference.

2009-09-12T19:49:00.000-07:00

Out of bitter broken weeping his image is born...
the Man of Sorrows births himself in us
and we are now ever sensitive to the sob in others
and quiet to our own.

Out of unmet longing comes a wish for heaven...
a sigh, a wordless plea, a dream
we are homesick for a home we haven't been to yet
and its mystery answers the questions in our hearts.

Out of hope comes the strangest of friends
this enemy, Change.
we take this way to be trodden and trod it,
and find that turning from things we don't hate actually
makes us better people.

Out of death comes life...
and it is a life that follows no less than a surrender
of breath. gaspings done, we allow his Spirit to minister
in a flame and in a whirlwind but most of all in a quiet.

And we find that hope and desire and pain and tears
are all part of the living that finds Life
and never dies. And never dies.

20.08.09

think about this

2009-08-28T20:09:00.000-07:00

"only God knows what He is conscious of
when He is conscious of Self." -A. W. Tozer

"the essence of idolatry is the entertainment of
thoughts about God that are unworthy of Him."
-A. W. Tozer

Ceaseless Prayer

2009-08-26T19:49:00.000-07:00

I've been facing some difficult situations and definitely sensing spiritual battle we are all in, and today these words over at Holy Experience were "right on time".

We also had an incredible chapel this morning about the armor of God... Don't go into the battle unarmed. And don't think you can outsmart the enemy. There is only one way to victory... and that is through Christ.

And the thing is this. The victory has been won! Don't allow the enemy to place doubts and fears in your mind. If you are on God's side, you are on the winning side. You have been forgiven and redeemed. He is able to keep you there! Stand in that victory.

2009-08-26T06:49:00.000-07:00

We follow Him because He leads us to the greenest pastures...
even greener than Sodom and Gomorrah
We laud Him because He has written the good into the gospel...
fullness of life and joy that goes on and on and never ends
We serve Him for mansions and crowns...
or at least a spot by the river of life
We bring others to this hope like moths to a flame.
But what of death.
This One who owns the cattle of a thousand hills
also owns death.
He gives breath, He takes away. Could we, like Job,
trust Him who would slay us?
Could I look into the eyes that catch the glint
of the dagger
and know the confidence that comes with trusting love?
Could I watch the sky with the same confidence
knowing that He has asked me to die to all that is not Him?
Could I lay in the arms of the One who has taken my Pietas
and torn them to shreds for His purpose?
But of course.
He knows the life that follows death.
I cannot think of anything higher than fiercely loving the One who first loved and died for me.
Is death too much for Him to ask?
Above all, this Lord of Life can be trusted. For He is just that... Lord of Life.

A book I read recently threw a wrench in my theological gears. I always thought that no bad thing comes from God, the One who is only goodness. And this is true, that He is only good.
But who thinks of death as being good? And does He require any less of us than death? Is the death then from Him? I'd welcome your comments if you care to set me back on the straight and narrow. The book Exquisite Agony by Gene Edwards speaks of our crucifixions coming directly from the hand of God. What do you think?

holy ground...

2009-08-23T00:17:00.000-07:00

... spirits knitting before you even have a chance to speak your name.

... tears of repentance

... deep, soul shaking laughter

... spaces of hope

... wading out to deep waters

... taking risks because you can't afford not to

... realizing again that God is, and there is no other

... a good Sunday, all in all

It was so good to worship together this morning... the singing sounded amazing to my ears. Wonder what it sounded like to God. Wonder what it sounded like to Lucifer, the angel of music who was cast out like lightning for wanting to be like God. It must surely vex him to hear something so beautiful resounding to the glory of God. I hope it does.
Ah, the gift of music.

semester break was awesome...

2009-08-22T07:13:00.000-07:00

...but now it's back to "real" life.

the school has {absorbed} about 20 new students... talk about tripling your numbers. i can't get over how noisy it is around here. noisy in a good way. so far. :) i'm excited about all the new energy around here. you forget what your first Thailand impressions were like after 4 months have passed, so it's so fun to see all the stuff that has become a way of life through eyes that have never seen it before.

lots of stuff happened over break, just not stuff you'd blog about.

we did go to Lanna Resort for a couple days, just us four ladies.
well, just us four ladies and about 8 packed songtaws worth of music camp attendees. it was actually kinda cool... you'd hear them burst into song with no provocation and hear guitars being strummed from all the remotest places. very un-Thai like. but very my style, {to Karen's chagrin.} :)
excuse the blurry picture please. we could never hold still long enough to turn out any decent ones.

we did go bowling one night. news worthy, except i can't say why. :) that was also the night the guys grilled chicken for supper and made french fries, etc. that was some good food, let me tell ya.

I did get to go teach at CMCC last night... my last time, as I plan to work with the women's ministry this semester. I loved loved it, but saying good-bye to the dear kids all over again wasn't easy.

school starts on MoNdAy.

i'll leave you with a couple of quotes from the book Finding God, by Larry Crabb:

"When we are properly stunned as we sing "Amazing Grace", the focus shifts away from our struggle to find our identity and toward a fascination with the character of Someone who could actually love people who spit on him. And then, with our focus on Christ where it belongs, personal identity gradually falls into place."

and this one-

"God is always up to something. Our job is to remain sensitive to whatever that may be. We can be sure of this: when the Spirit blows, terrifying disruption and seductive enticement will be felt. Old foundations will crumble, and we will fall to greater heights. His delight is to lift us to another dimension that feels both eerily strange and warmly familiar."

He is good. Not "safe" in the inside-the-box, predictable kind of way... but oh so good.

Songtaw 18.08.09

2009-08-18T20:41:00.000-07:00

we crammed in 18 when comfort would have been 8
broad, world-worn women and father-worn boys
and the in-betweens

there were the bargain hunters with their
Buddha-god strapped on the back
40's and 50's with laugh lines and strong perfume

there were the studious
with tired eyes and stoic faces
with clutched bags of books
20's and 30's with a tired prime and a hope

there was the family, the family
numbers 14, 15, 16, 17, 18
tiny boys with scratched backs and eyes big enough to fit in some love
and fear
father-fear as he teetered on the steps clutching crutches
and she watched him with one good eye
and one blinded with hardship
I saw hope pass over her, then a small hard smile
and more hope
and my mind saw them knee deep in paddy muck
planting the life
and harvesting the life
and dying dying slowly dying
5's and 10's with hard little souls
and 30's with nothing save hope

there is so little to do to fit in God-love
but when he rolls his eyes to meet mine, I smile.
his question will haunt me for days.
5's and 10's with nothing but a prayer
my prayer

I pay the driver and we climb off
and now it's the 16 racing on to destiny
my prayer follows, taking no space but filling the songtaw
anyhow
and I am asking for Life.

Definitions:

Songtaw: noun; literally "two rows" in Thai, also known in English as the baht bus, a passenger vehicle in Thailand and Laos, adapted from a truck and used as a share taxi

Life: noun; eternal breath, the fullness of the knowledge of Christ; never dying- not ever ever...

The End of First Semester

2009-08-10T09:46:00.000-07:00

First semester is now history. We've been through lots together, we kids who were strangers a mere 4 months ago. If we look taller it's because they stretched us too much. :)

There were the early days of sweltering heat and mass confusion (I remember wondering what on earth came next, and if I would EVER get used to a schedule.)

There were the late nights in the classroom where everything you read zoomed right over your head and quite possibly the things you wrote zoomed over theirs.

There were the days of scrambling for ideas to teach an ESL exercise, or an object lesson, or a Bible truth. There was the pain of getting up in front of your classmates and presenting your lesson with as much dignity and enthusiasm you could muster, knowing they were armed with evaluation sheets and grudges because of what you wrote on theirs. :)

There were the ministry nights where Buddhist monks and small children and exploited women worked their ways deeply into our hearts as we ministered to them, teaching them English and the love of God.

There were the biweekly volleyball games and the ensuing sweaty songtaw rides... :). And the volleyball tournament outside in blazing 95* weather...

There were rainy nights to be walked in.

There was swimming in Koolpunt Ha and Koolpunt Jet... but mostly there was walking/biking to and fro wondering why old Thai men always picked Sunday afternoons as their swim time. (IGo policy doesn't allow "mixed bathing")

There was term finals with everyone trying to out score Rosa. She's a genius, folks. :)

There were ministry trips where nothing went according to plan, trips that redefined our world views and exposed us to the lost and dying all over Asia. Trips that opened our eyes to the astounding beauty of God reflected in the most remote regions. Trips that took us far from any of our comfort zones and into the presence of God. Trips that changed us for good.

But most importantly, in the midst of all this "living", was the seed of truth being planted in our hearts. It was the Spirit of God at work in our lives. It was change taking place in our minds. It was vision being birthed and expanded at the tender, gentle call of God on our lives. It was seeing the world as God sees it, and understanding His longing for the nations to know Him.

There's the lot of us below.

Here we are with our mentors, Cathy & Nettie.
(please excuse me, i'd had a long day!)The guys and their mentors
I've said it before, but I'd like to say it again:
Thank-you so much to all of you for making it possible for me to come.
I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you.
You know who you are...
-those who sacrificed financially
-those who have prayed faithfully
-those who encouraged me in so many ways
-those who basically forced me to come. :)
-and many more...

You've been used of God.
May He multiply your blessings!

The Ultimate

2009-08-03T18:36:00.000-07:00

Interview with Brad Pitt

Brad Pitt: “Man, I know all these things are supposed to seem important to us . . the car, the condo, our version of success . .but if that’s the case, why is the general feeling out there reflecting more impotence and isolation and desperation and loneliness? If you ask me, I say toss all this, we gotta find something else. Because all I know is that at this point in time, we are heading for a dead end, a numbing of the soul, a complete atrophy of the spiritual being. And I don’t want that.” Rolling Stone: “So if we’re heading toward this kind of existential dead end in society, what do you think should happen?”Brad Pitt: “Hey, man, I don’t have those answers yet. The emphasis now is on success and personal gain. [smiles] I’m sitting in it, and I’m telling you, that’s not it. I’m the guy who’s got everything. I know. But I’m telling you, once you’ve got everything, then you’re just left with yourself. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; it doesn’t help you sleep any better, and you don’t wake up any better because of it.”~ Rolling Stone

Interview with Tom Brady

by Steve Kroft of 60 Minutes (11- 6 - 2005)

At the tender age of 28, Tom Brady,the quarterback of the New England Patriots, as already won three Super Bowls—an accomplishment that ranks him with someof the best quarterbacks ever to play the game. Brady's loss to the Denver Broncos in the 2005 playoffs was his first in the playoffs, compared with 10 playoff wins in the last four years.But with all of Brady's fame and career accomplishments, he told 60 Minutes:

"Why do I have three Super Bowl rings and still think there's something greater out there for me? I mean, maybe a lot of people would say, 'Hey man, this is what is. I reached my goal, my dream, my life.' Me, I think, God, it's got to be more than this. I mean this isn't, this can't be, what it's all cracked up to be."

"What's the answer?" asked interviewer Steve Kroft.

"I wish I knew," Brady replied. "I wish I knew."

I've been thinking about these quotes ever since Collier shared them with us in his message last Sunday. Seeing it from the other perspective does something to solidify it in my own mind.
They've been telling me this all along, and I've believed them, but now I believe more.

Could it be possible that dying to ourselves really is what brings us abundant life? So often I have bought into the world's theories of happiness and success, when Christ is standing by, patiently waiting for me to see that nothing apart from Him will bring me joy.

This way of life I embrace today means many things for me:
It is fatness of soul in the mundane and unexciting.
It is life that has followed death.
It is joy in the middle of sorrow.
It is forgiveness for sins I could never atone for.
It is growth when it feels like I'm shrinking.
It is polishing through trials.
It is strength from above.
It is what enables me to walk in faith.
It is committing my future to Him who knows all.
It is love that makes all my days worth it.
It is grace that enables me to live well.

It is not fat bank accounts and popularity and recognition...
It is not making a name for myself through a career or through service...

I wish I had words and opportunity to tell these men what God can do for them, but I'm finding it hard just to articulate it here. I guess the challenge I take from this is to check it out...
See what the things are that have brought happiness. Think about the things that have left you aching with a tiredness that is soul deep.

Honesty for me is admitting that so often what I think will bring me happiness often robs me, leaving me a spiritual pauper.

And choosing for God always brings life!
Always.