Why Are We Just Sitting Here?

I get the question all the time.  "Ruth Anne, why are we just sitting here?  (Or standing here?  Or waiting here?)"  I get the question all the time because that's what happens all the time.  It happened today.

We started out on an outing to a preservation area owned and operated by the King of Thailand.  Think of acres of jungle and woods and little lakes all dedicated to the development and study of plants and animals indigenous to Thailand.  Fascinating place.  Wild peacocks shouting overhead to draw attention to their astonishing beauty in flight.  Never seen that before.  And there's that bear-cat.  Not kidding.  Weird looking thing.  None of us have ever seen one before, like not even in pictures.  And this owl.  Crazy.

All of that went great.  No waiting.  No wondering.  It was on the way home that the plan began to unravel.  Or...was there really a plan in the first place?  We're never sure.  We're in two vehicles.  Suradet is leading and pulls over part way home.  Comes to the window and asks would we like to go to a village festival?

He asks me on behalf of the Team, the sweaty, unsuspecting members of which are spread out over two vehicles.  I can only even talk to two of them.  What to decide?  My policy is to say yes.  Yes, let's do it.  Let's get in as much as we can, experience all that's put before us.  It's only mid morning.  We're not tired yet.  It's not too hot yet.  So, yes.  Thank you.  We'd love to.

And off we drive to a small semi-rural community, tumble out of the trucks, and climb up a hill to what seems like it might be a market square.

There's a very loud traditional music group playing on a covered platform, telling stories in a Thai version of an opera.  There are tents set up for shade in front of the pavilion attached to the wat, where a monk, wrapped in orange, preaches a message into a microphone, competing with the music a few yards away, while villagers wander, gather and gab.  There are rich colours, baskets of fruit and flowers to earn good merit, children playing everywhere.

The adults are invited to sit in the shade.  Smiles all around.  Suradet introduces us to the leader of the village - the equivalent of the mayor.  Our kids, both Thai and farang, spill out over to the side, climb the stairs of the wat.  We're served water.  We wait.

"Ruth Anne.  Why are we just sitting here?"

Because...we are.  Because I'm not sure what's happening next and even if we asked Suradet he probably wouldn't know either.  Because this is an event oriented culture, not a time oriented culture, and that means there won't ever really be an official start time or end time.  What ever is happening just happens.  And everyone's okay with it.  Except maybe us.

Actually I'm good with it now.  Drove me nuts the first time I was here.  And to be honest it's more challenging to 'go with the flow' when you're responsible for a whole group of people with varying needs and varying degrees of tolerance for the ambiguous.  When I'm here by myself, it's moments like this that make the best memories, that push me further past my need to control, that force me into being fully present in this moment.  Right here.  Right now.

Why are we just waiting here?  Because something might happen.  Might not, but it might.  And we'd miss it if we insisted on moving on every time we didn't understand what was happening.

Like life, I think.  I think sometimes I've asked God the same question my Team asks me.  "God, why am I just waiting here?  Let's get on with whatever You're getting at here."

But God is an event oriented God not a time oriented God.  In fact, He exists outside of time.  And that means that sometimes there won't ever be an official start time or end time to certain lessons.  There are times when I need to make strong memories, and be pushed further past my need to control.  There are times when I need to be forced into being fully present with this person, in this situation, for this moment...with God.

That's why we're waiting.

This morning we were told first that we'd be having lunch there at the village, and then that non-plan got re-planned and we headed home after all....which is where we thought we were going when we left the bear-cat.

Father of time and space, thank you for the lessons we seem to need to go to the other side of the world in order to learn.





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