Competencies that Count

Clay figures by Eak

This is day seven in a twelve day jet lag recovery.  (Estimates are one day of recovery for each hour time difference.)  This is the second summer where I have had the good gift of retreating to the cottage for this inevitable process of adjustment, something that does not seem to get any easier with frequency, but is unquestionably easier when done in unscheduled seclusion.

As usual, these days are full of processing.  Even more so when I’ve traveled with a Team and haven’t really had the head space to do any of it ‘on the ground in real time’.   It was a great trip with a great Team, and that means we were busy.  Day trips to see the surrounding culture, outings with the kids, reading and reading and reading, and of course the ESL and Bible lessons every evening.   We had just a touch of a common traveller’s sickness, but had medicine on hand and the flexibility of schedule to make that a small thing in comparison to all that was gained by our time there.

So by the time I’m back, processing and thinking and making lists for ‘next time’, I’m doing my usual personal assessment of the give and take of each trip.  What did we gain?  What did we leave behind?

It’s the second question that has preoccupied me in these first seven days back.  As a Team, and more pointedly, myself as this missionary-pastor person I am now - how did we do?  How did we serve?  Were our contributions meaningful?  How competent were we, was I, in the ways we hoped to minister to the children, to Pastors Suradet and Yupa, to the dear members at Hot Springs Church?  

It’s a fair question.  With five people coming for a visit, there is a significant disruption factor in the day to day lives of our hosts.  Extra work, extra planning, extra driving, extra energy.  Did we make it worthwhile?

It’s a fair question.  But it’s a question I ask very differently now than I did that first trip in February 2008.  Back then, ministry competency, having maximum impact through our combined skill set, (read: MY skill set) was all that mattered to me as the leader of a seven person Team out on a MISSIONS TRIP!!!  How important that sounded then (especially with the echo effect).

By now, the harsh lessons of soul-deconstruction so mercifully pounded into me eleven years ago, have redirected my assessment dramatically.  Now I’m asking a different question.

How did we love?

How did I love?

It’s the better question of ministry effectiveness.  Because love is, after all, the main thing.

So in the essence of that better question, it seemed perhaps a helpful exercise to take some liberty and paraphrase 1 Corinthians 13 according to how love might be made the priority in Thai culture and our interaction there.  

For any Team member, of this most recent trip or any in the past, or for anyone considering joining in on the future, I offer this with the humility of having ‘first preached it to myself’ and with the promise to work through all that the Spirit painfully revealed to me through this exercise.   If it prompts any response in your own heart, my prayer is that this will be only enriching and helpful, even if something pinches.  Not necessarily my intention, but I know that the Holy Spirit often works that way, so I'll cover myself with the disclaimer :).

Here goes.  1 Corinthians 13 Thai style.

If I speak Thai fluently without even the hint of an accent, and all my Thai friends understand me perfectly and praise my linguistic accomplishment, and I impress all my other Team members, but I am more focused on showing off than listening to and loving the people I’m in conversation with, then I’m nothing more than a hollow bell or mournful temple gong. 

If I have the gift of a Western education and can teach or sing or play an instrument with impressive technical precision, and I am invited to participate in every service and time of worship, but this ends up making me feel and act superior, and by default my Thai friends feel inferior, and I fail to communicate my love and appreciation for all that these people can teach me and how they serve me, then no one really gains anything and so what do my credentials even count for?

If I have faith enough to travel to mountains on the other side of the world, and I’m brave enough to take risks and face the specific kinds of dangers of this strange exotic place, but I’m motivated by trying to impress everyone, or by self-fulfillment, or self-actualization, or anything at all self-related instead of self-denying love, then I’m nothing.

If I give until it hurts, sharing from my abundant resources to help alleviate the suffering of the poor, and even go so far as to put myself in harm’s way, sacrificing my physical health, but I don’t do any of this out of an actual compassion for people in need, then nobody wins.  

Love is patient enough to wait to be acknowledged in the room, or stay engaged in a bilingual conversation until understanding is achieved and consensus is found, or to be served last, or wait to be offered something rather than ask for it, or go back to that government office for the seventh completely unnecessary time.

Love is kind enough to notice the subtle signs of sadness on a Thai (or ‘farang’ face), or to make sure photos are inclusive, or to sincerely thank those who have been in any way inconvenienced on one’s behalf, or to walk at the pace of the slowest person in the group, or to refrain from spending too much at the markets even with such cheap prices, knowing that our hosts have so little disposable income.

Love does not envy the attention others may receive or the ‘place in the story’ others may have in a culture that values family narrative. 

It does not talk so much about oneself, in fact, doesn’t talk too much at all, and certainly doesn’t presume a special status with special treatment (especially being white, even though that’s a thing).

It is careful to honour those older than and in authority over oneself, even when ‘at home’ this would seem unnecessary and even a little ‘over the top.’

It does not participate in behaviours meant to gain attention, does not insist that one’s own needs be met, always looking instead for ways to meet the practical and emotional needs of others.  

Love does not find humour in anything that demeans or insults others, is not sarcastic, is careful not to use ‘inside jokes’ to the exclusion of others. 

It does not demonstrate anger in public, but in the spirit of ‘gingjai’ maintains composure and grace always.  

It is willing to overlook small annoyances of living together in close quarters in a different culture and climate, aware that grace is a needed component of serving God together in any circumstance.

Love does not let fear, arrogance, personal agendas or one’s ‘shadow-mission’, factor into the cross-cultural experience, but instead seeks to be open, selfless, honest, and Spirit-led.

It always protects the most vulnerable, always trusts God’s plans and purposes, always hopes for shalom in the face of suffering, always perseveres with tenacity in this joy-work we are privileged to do with these incredible people.

Love never fails to make our time there a profoundly meaningful way to serve.

Love is the only ‘competency’ that counts.

Half Way Already? - Week One Team Report

Norma

"I've only been here a week and already I am undone.  Once the children warm up to you, their smiles, their hugs, their eagerness to serve you in so many ways, and their contagious laugh, just melt your heart.   Praweet is the little guy I sponsor (with Colin).  He is feisty and mischievous.   He'll offer his hand to shake, but as you move towards him he pulls it back to slick down his hair (which is funny because he hardly has any).   He is eager to learn English and I am delighted that he wants to read with me so much.  I am so glad that so many supporters helped me make this life-altering trip.  Thank you.  Sawat dee, ka.


Sheldon

I am a traveling photographer, a foodie, and and a person that simply loves to explore all the wonders of this world.  I feel incredibly blessed to be experiencing such a truly ancient land and culture in its truest forms. From the grand vista views of mist that flows over the lush green mountains like an avalanche of molasses, to the small things like bartering for sweet dried mango at the local markets in a language you can't understand with people that have the grace to listen and help. I had no doubt in my mind that I'd enjoy the magic that Thailand is clearly blessed with. That includes but is not limited to the food, rich and full of flavour, spicy concoctions passed down through generations and improved upon by men and women with a zeal to bring joy to others. All these are just some of the wonderful blessings Hot Springs/ New Family Foundation have bestowed on us the whole time we have been here. Not once have they faltered to care for a need that we had. Not once have we gone unprayed for. The children are full of joy and laughter from the blessings they received from back home and the love of Pastor Suradet and Yupa, and they are not shy to reciprocate.


Becca

It has been a beautiful experience watching and interacting with these children here at Hot Springs. I have never witnessed children that are so caring and generous. You know the saying, “What’s mine is yours”? That’s how they live. Every present they get and everything they buy, they share with one another. They treat each other like sisters and brothers here.  It is also so inspiring and exciting to watch their eagerness to connect with myself and the other new team members as well as their eagerness to learn English.  Some of these children did not come from good homes and it is so uplifting to watch them care so much and love so fiercely. 

Ahajan Suradet and Yupa, the two pastirs at Hot Springs and the people who opened up their home to these children, have been so generous and such amazing hosts. They have cared for us so much and I can’t help but mention how good their food is!! I am so grateful for this opportunity and feel so lucky to experience so much hospitality and love.

Esther

Hello Everyone!

This first week back at Hot Springs has been wonderful in so many ways. There are 3 things that stand out to me about this trip so far. First, the joy and humor of Suradet. For some time, this side of him had disappeared as he was going through a period of grieving. But now, the king of dad jokes is back in action, making the kids laugh and bringing smiles to all. Suradet and Yupa take care of their family with so much love and we are beyond lucky to be included in that. Since my trip is longer this time, both of them have expressed very clearly to me that I am like a daughter to them and if I ever need anything while I am here, I can call them and they will help. How amazing it is to be loved by two families on different sides of the world!

The second thing is the inclusion here at Hot Springs, especially with the 5 new children. Jabez, Min, A-ton, Een, and Meena have only been here for around 3 months and they are already deeply engaged in worship and finding good groups of friends. One of the coolest things to see is how the younger kids transition into the “older sibling” role. During the church service on Sunday, it was raining really hard and all the fans were on, meaning that there was a little bit of a chill in the air. The Highview Team was grateful for said breeze, but tiny little Meena (who, although being 7 years old, has the body of a girl who is 5), was absolutely frozen. And with so much love, May, who used to be the smallest child here, took off her sweater and gave it to her sister. Wow. It is not only Suradet and Yupa who take care of these children, but everyone is involved in the process of caring for and loving on these little ones.

Finally, the biggest difference for me is the knowledge that after the first few weeks here are done, I don’t have to go home. I’m feeling this amazing sense of peace that I don’t have to rush anything. I don’t have to worry about not fitting everything in, or making sure I get photos of every cool thing that I see, because I have 6 months to soak it all in. How relaxing it is to know that I get to be here in Thailand for this long and that my time is going to be spent focusing on my relationship with God and what He wants for my life. I am ready to submit every part of myself to Him and make the most of my 6 months here with the hope that when I return, I will be a stronger disciple for God and more in tune with the prompting of the Holy Spirit. Already, I can feel myself learning and healing from the interactions with my Hot Springs family, and YWAM hasn’t even begun! How happy my heart is here. As All Son’s and Daughter’s so perfectly said “How perfectly how hearts were made for love”.

Ruth Anne

And that's a glimpse into this amazing Team I get to be here with on this trip.  It's been great to see us gel together, not in spite of but because of our inter-generational dynamic.  And to have a growing list of our own 'trip stories', "Sheldon quotes" and other inside jokes. 

Hard to believe our time is almost half over already.  It's going so very fast with all our outings, reading to the kids, yesterday's worship service, and today's preparation of small packets (teddy bears, soap and candy) to deliver to a nearby, under-resourced school.  The rain, while making everything lush and green, is dampening some of our plans (couldn't do Chiang Mai Walking Market last night for example), but not our spirits, as we immerse ourselves in this community of love and gentleness. 

Even with the busy schedule, I am overwhelmed with all the 'moments'.  Watching the fun as Team members read to the kids, hearing little voices sound out the words in the new books, jumping and dancing to all the fun songs, Suradet reading from the Bible given to him by Jen, Sheldon's word of testimony at service on Sunday, and oh...the depth of the worship in praising God in this stunning language.

This is a short visit for me, for sure.  I'm now completely spoiled for the one month visit where I can fully dig down into the rhythm of Thai culture and the way life flows daily here at Hot Springs.  But I am also aware that in a very short amount of time, six weeks to be exact, I'll be here again.  And yes, that will be for the month of October. 

How did I get this life?

That Time When I Couldn't Nap So I Blogged About Numbers Instead

In less than 12 hours we'll be on our way.

This time out a team of 5 will head to Hot Springs for a 2 and a half week stay with our Thai family, and I am stoked!  Three have never been before.  Three are young adults on various amazing adventures.  Two are Sponsors of children there.  One we are leaving behind for a six month stay.  One brings a treasure to leave behind according to his mother's wishes.  For 1 this is a 4th visit with lots of next steps in language and culture to anticipate.  And for 1, that's me, the grace poured out to allow this to be a regular and repeated part of what I do is overwhelming. 

I'll leave you to ponder the math and Venn diagrams I've just laid out.  But it will give you a glimpse into the dynamics and potential of the group I get to travel with....in just a few hours.

I should be napping.

When you get up before 5 to be ready to preach, and you also have to board a plane at 1:45 a.m. in the same stint of a day, napping isn't just a cute little Gramma luxury.  It's a much needful thing.

But apparently getting up a 5, having a robust and wonderful time of worship with beloveds, being totally packed and having an all-checked-off list, isn't enough to convince my body to lay low today.  Not right now anyways.

I think I'm just too 'abundanced'. 

It overwhelmed me on my way into the church early this morning to observe my pre-preaching ritual (something I'm grateful I have the freedom to do in this post-pastor reality) of arriving first, praying over the sermon and the service, and rehearsing what I hope will be God's message to people I love.  Even before I got to doing all of that, alread in the van I was drinking in the morning sky and couldn't help but begin my worship there.  I mean, come on.  My life!

I'm just back from a sacred space where the flat water and kayak and quiet are sanctuaries incredible.
Here in the city, in my backyard, over the pond at the church, and in the context of so many deep friendships (lovely dinner out last night), there are holy places too.  And then today, much later, so much later we'll call it tomorrow morning even though it won't feel like it, I get to head to another place, literally half way around the world, where heaven touches earth some more. 

What kind of God is so lavish? 

I can't add it up, and it's not because the part of my brain that does math died in grade 4 (true fact), but because there's too much, so much, big much blessing.

When I travel with others as a leader or guide to our mission experience, it is always my prayer that they will receive this over abundance thing too.

When I visit Hot Springs as an ambassador of love and support from so many here who lavish their love on our kids, it is always my prayer that those supporters will experience it too.

So, not napping, oh well.  Lots of time to just sit and be still on the flights that will get us there.

Not napping.  Counting blessings makes me so happy, but it clearly doesn't have the same effect as counting sheep.

Best By Choice

I love my work.

I love being outside when the weather is warm and the air is fresh.

So I guess it might be called a ‘sweet spot’ when I can work outside in the summer.

And if that’s the case, I’ve most definitely been in a sweet spot this week.

It was a very unusual beginning to our cottage stay this year to bring three of four grandkids with us for the week, and immediately after that, have our entire family up here for what ended up being the first two full weeks of the season.  Normally I’ve had some time already to slow down my soul and soak in some solitude on the dock and in the kayak, as well as some solid deck work time indulging in the slower, deeper thinking this place so openly lends itself to.   With the understanding that our time here with family is so precious (and I will never take for granted that we can all be together like this), it has been such a bonus to come into this week of stellar weather and be able to spend so much time outside working in the quiet. 

Just to be clear, my ‘work station’ resembles more of a lounging area, protected from the sun and wind on the north side of the cottage under a large umbrella (happy birthday to me from my gifted-gifter husband).  My view is blue and green of the most vibrant kinds, with water and sky and trees providing the hues.  I am interrupted only by short and happy visits from a chipmunk named Gray (so named by the children), a hummingbird (who is shy enough to ask that her name be withheld and who also hasn’t given me permission to even take her picture let along post it), a mother goose and a good-sized gosling (who stopped by to munch on the grass at the bottom of the deck stairs without introducing themselves), Jenny the wren (self explanatory there), and my newest friend Mama Squirrel (obviously great with child(ren), even to my untrained eye – more on her in another blog). 

So the work is work but -- come on.

Still, there’s work to, and a fair bit of too.  More than I would normally bring to the cottage.  The unexpected nature of May pushed some writing, planning, mapping and communicating well into June, which in turn ended up spilling into July, which is now.  No worries.  With my sweet spot in place, just in these three quiet days so far, I’ve been able to accomplish quite a bit of what I would have much preferred to have had completed and tucked away before we arrived with the kids.  No small chunk of that has been sermon and lesson planning for the two weeks I’ll be in Thailand very soon(July 29 to August 14). 

Which brings me to another sweet spot.    My outside work station at Hot Springs.  

It was one of the highlights of my three months stay in the fall of 2015, and remains part of what I love about the work day when I stay there on my own for any extended time.   I’ll be working there soon, for some of the days (not as much when there’s a Team going), fine tuning the ESL and Bible lessons I’ve just fleshed out, rehearsing the sermons I’m writing here. 

And now there’s another overlapping happening, but this time of the two sweet spots themselves.  Here I am, working all day today outside, on work I love that I’ll be working on some more, outside, when I’m in Thailand....best of both worlds.

The best.  And it occurs to me that somewhere along the way, I’ve learned to choose to lock onto what’s best, also known as true and noble and right and pure and lovely and excellent and praiseworthy.  Because there was a time in my spiritual development when I found this hard to do.  I sort of knew that if I did, I could have more peace, more joy.  But there seemed to be so much that was false and ignoble and wrong and impure and unlovely and messed up and curse-worthy to think about. 

There still is, actually.  In both my worlds.  Sadness and grief and confusing realities, and work I just plain don’t like to do, no matter where I’ve set up my work station.  There’s all that to contend with and deal with and sort out, for sure.  Suradet and Yupa have it too.  And then some.   Working in a culture where poverty is rampant and infrastructures non-existent is no picnic.  They have twenty-one kids right now and no less than eight of them are teenagers, so just use your imagination.  And then there’s the fact that they’re coming up on the third year anniversary of their 20 year old son Bee’s death in a motorcycle accident.  Yeah, that.

There’s lots outside the sweet spot that’s not so sweet.  Can’t ignore all that. 

Still.  Choose the best.

I think I’ve learned so much about this from them actually.  Suradet and Yupa have a persistently faith-filled outlook that’s fixed on what’s best; chooses to sit in the best; chooses to find and work and live in the sweet spots of God’s love and provision for them. 

On this day when I work outside, anticipating the work I’ll soon be privileged again to do on the other side of the world, I am also grieving and processing big things.  No outside workstation with a lovely view changes any of that.

But with so much joy to be had, on this quiet day of working outside, my soul knows this is the best place I could be.

Introducing Some New Faces at Hot Springs

How exciting to introduce to you, five new children at Hot Springs!!!  

Arriving just a few weeks ago, these five have already begun their school year and are adapting into family life and rhythm.   I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.  

It always moves me how quickly and eagerly people step up to become a Sponsor.  You can see by the caption under each child's picture that some have already been connected with an individual, family or even two friends who have committed to providing a monthly amount for their housing, food, clothing and education.   

Very soon, July 29 to August 14, I will be traveling back again to Thailand, this time with a Team, for a visit that will include the continuing of our English language learning program.  Of course we'll be bringing packets from their Sponsors at home.  And there's already been enough money donated to take them on at least one fun outing.  

There are still three children pictured below who are open for sponsorship.  If making a difference in the life of a child who truly would not have a chance otherwise is something you feel drawn to, please do not hesitate to contact me at rabreithaupt@hcckw.ca.  

I would be so happy to send you more information about what it means to sponsor a child at New Family Foundation through Highview Community Church.

Sutawit, 12 (Open)

Tuncsanok, 7 (Open)

Warik, 10 (Sponsored)

Walaiporn, 13 (Open)

Intira, 8 (Sponsored)

Factoring In The Fear

And oh the wild adventures of the missionary life!

I'm often asked about the risks of being so far away from home in a country so differently dangerous, and whether or not it makes me afraid. 

And the answer is no.
And the answer is yes.


Let's just talk about the roads for a minute.

Twice I've been in a car that just narrowly missed a head on collision, Thai style driving being what it is.  I've been in a car that passed a large, slow truck as we were coming around a hairpin turn on our way up the mountain.  I've been in a car that barely skidded around a large water buffalo with a death wish, who was calmly munching his lunch on the other side of another hair pin turn, unseen until that crucial moment of avoidance.

Let's just talk about critters for a moment.

I've brushed by a scorpion in my bare feet (which I've written about before).  I've showered with a scorpion on more than one occasion.  I lived for two weeks with cobra lurking the underbrush until the day he was cornered and crushed and taken home by the neighbours for lunch.  I've had to run a little to avoid the charge of a wild boar.   There's been a seven foot snake in the kitchen and brightly coloured, small orange-sized spider on the threshold.  Another spider, the size of my hand and apparently quite venomous was just above my head the entire time I was on the toilet, and I didn't see him until I got up.  I've been pushed aside quite suddenly so as not to step on the 20 cm centipede whose sting is worse than a tarantula and will send you to the hospital for days of painful recovery.

Let's talk about the elements for a moment.

I've been in a shelter when a sudden, violent storm blasted through, clutching frightened children as the metal shingles were being ripped off above us.  I've been literally shaken out of my bed by a 4.9 earthquake whose epicenter was just 77 km away.  I've slept blissfully unaware while a brush fire came close enough to the house to require a small brigade to beat it back, and cause a layer of ash to settle over the entire property by morning. 

"Aren't you afraid?", folks will ask.  And about these things, I would have to say, no, I'm not.

Surprisingly, even to myself, I seem to take each circumstance in stride.  It's part of the adventure.  Gives me lots of material to write about.  We don't take stupid risks, of course.  There are ways to make yourself more aware of the kinds of things we might encounter in Thailand that are not unlike how we bear-proof our cottages, or protect ourselves from ticks, or cope with ice storms and power outages. 

So no.   These things don't scare me much.

Impressed with my courage?  Don't be.  I'm about to out myself as a coward.

Because there is on thing that almost instantly fills me with over the top anxiety and almost paralyzing fear.

It's getting sick.

No one likes to get sick.  And no one who's traveling likes to get sick in the way travelers often do get sick; the ways you take Dukoral for, shall we say.  And I haven't really gotten all that sick in that traveler's kind of way, not for all the trips I've taken over the past eleven years.   But if I do, even just a little bit, it triggers no end of fear for me.

Perhaps it's because it's happening to my body, and there's something about being so far away from home when something is happening to your body that's particularly stressful.  Perhaps it's because I am far away from home and the kind of medical care I'm used to.  And very likely it's related to the fact that one time, when I was in Thailand, I fainted.  Passed out.  And I didn't feel right for a few days after that.  And it was just before I was set to fly home.  By myself.  And what if I passed out again on the layover in Korea?  And I'm by myself?  And what if, for whatever reason, they have to take me to the hospital there?  Did I mention that I'm by myself?

I'm not by myself in Thailand.  There is family there to care for me, make sure I get the best treatment possible.  And they have done that, over the top, no matter what I might be dealing with, even if it's just that nasty cold I picked up on the plane. 

But all I know is, that if I get just a little bit unwell, I'm not in a good space, having to talk myself down from the ceiling. 

It's quite amazing how many times the Bible talks about fear.  It's practically the first words out of the mouth of any angel messenger.  "Don't be afraid."  Moses speaks into the fear of the Israelites over and over again. Valiant warrior King David isn't shy about voicing his fears to God, as peppered throughout the Psalms. 

During my last visit in February I ran into some difficulty, and parked myself in Psalm 31.

"In you, O LORD, I have taken refuge:

let me never be put to shame;
deliver me in your righteousness.
Turn your ear to me,
come quickly to my rescue;
be my rock of refuge,
a strong fortress to save me.
Since you are my rock and fortress,
for the sake of your name lead and guide me.
Free me from the trap that is set for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hands I commit my spirit;
redeem me, O LORD, the God of truth."
Psalm 31:1-5

Over and over I would read this out loud as I lay in my bed, waiting for the shakes to pass.

And right now I would so much rather be writing about how I said these verses over while the earthquake was happening because it sounds so much more dramatic and - well - necessary to picture it that way.  But that's not what scared me.  This did.  And I needed to run into God's strong, safe place of being in charge.  Every time, when I would get to that phrase, "Into your hands I commit my spirit"  - those being, of course, words Jesus chose to recite back to God in His own moments of agony and terror -  that would bring a deep sigh of release.  And the more I pressed into His absolute sovereignty over my life, and the more I surrendered any outcomes to Him, the more I stopped fighting what was happening in my body and welcomed the easing of my mind.

Funny what makes us afraid.

And I am amazed that God knows what we need, and is so available, even in the most humbling of moments, to meet us there in our fear.   And I am grateful, so grateful, that He pours His courage into me. 

The M Word and Things Not Mattering Anymore

The moment when it doesn't matter any more, I am jumping.

For probably 25 years this one praise song has had me bounding three times right, three times left, lifting hands higher than the sky, and dropping down deeper than the sea.  I've declared God's everlasting love like this with countless kids, back at my home church in Kitchener, up at our cottage church in Cognashene, in Thailand and Cambodia that first trip 11 years ago, at Day Camps over the years both sides of the planet, and now here at Hot Springs for, oh I don't know how long.  It's an exuberant explosion of music and joy and, based on the repeated requests from the kids, it never gets old.

I do.  And I feel it when the song is done, I'll just be honest and - heaving breath - say so.  But.  So. Much.  Energy fills the room!  Every time!  It's as if we just get lost in the joyful mystery of His everlasting love.   Every time.  And it's happy and wonderful and good and fun and beautiful and ridiculously satisfying.

And I am jumping three times right and three times left when suddenly it doesn't matter any more.

So now I have to get all transparent and admit that no small amount of my challenge in this past year has been adjusting to a perceived 'loss' of status.   Yes.  That.

Everyone totally knows that it's not in the best interest of our overall mental health if we identify too closely with the work we do and any titles or status that comes with.  And we might all just shrug it off as not being a thing, not affecting us, as long as we're doing our work and - let's face it - enjoying the titles or status that come with.  But when that work is gone and the titles are gone and the status is gone, it kinda turns out that it mattered after all.  It's not supposed to.  But it kinda does. 

It's not like being Pastor has such a huge standing in the general world anyways.  That part I got used to long ago.  But at least it seemed to help in my ministry world.  And even somewhat cynical extended family members seemed to allow me a tad more respect when I was ordained and actually received the title Reverend.  (A credential I still hold but rarely use, but feel necessary to mention here only because you knowing that still matters somehow -- even when it shouldn't.)

When I came back from my initial time away, I noticed something had changed.  It became obvious that much of what I had previously taken for granted in terms of a general respect and regard was attached to the role, not the person.  Not with my closest friends, of course.  And I was amply loved through the entire process, without question.  But in terms of some of the subtle ways these things are played out, it was clear.  I just wasn't as important now.  Being a missionary didn't have the same clout, clearly.

I was even told I might not want to call myself that, because....well there's lots of negative stuff around the title.   There was that weird guy last November who got shot by arrows, remember?

Except around here, no one calls me Pastor anymore, so what am I left with?

And it's not supposed to matter but....it does.

Until it doesn't.  Because....jumping.

And it's the middle of the song when I am overwhelmed by a Presence of shalom in the most unexpected and breath-snatching of ways.  And I realize that this - what I'm doing right now - is exactly what I want to be doing - right now - in this moment of it not mattering.  Because you can call me anything you like or nothing at all if this is where I get to be.  Here right now in the circle of treasures of immeasurable value that poverty said should not be here.  But they are here, thriving and shining, and in the throes of joyful worship, no less.

And somehow, by some appointment not orchestrated by me, I have been invited into the best of the best.  So it doesn't matter.  Call me what you want.  Or nothing at all.

Just let me jump with the kids.