Every-Other Days

I'm tempted to call this series of pictures "Spicy Food Faces".  

However, it's more the need for antics than antacids that prompts these crazy shots.

Yesterday

We are gone for most of the morning, searching for more reading prizes, snacks and gifts for friends back home.  For this we arrive at what I call 'the indoor market down by the river'.  A great sprawling of booths under tin and cement all smelling of fish and incense, packed with people.  The small pouches I purchase to encourage some of the older readers are the first sale of the day for the pleased women who takes my baht.  I know this because she takes my bills and touches everything else she has for sale as a means of bringing luck.  On our way home we stop at Central Festival, an impressive five story mall, all decked out in Chinese New Year finery, to book our tickets for Saturday's movie outing with the kids (thanks everyone who bought gift certificates at Christmas).  I marvel again at the contrasts of this place.  Smelly fish to ultra modern.  

Today

We are having a 'home day'.  Turns out to be a day that Megan and Esther test their millennial computer skills, with the help of Ethan from home  My new computer is apparently not getting along with the internet connection here.  I spend the first part of the morning trying not to have a white-privilege freak out while my friends laugh and problem solve their way in and out of depths of my computer's programming with confidence.  Success!!!  I reclaim some time and quiet head space while Norma, Megan and Esther take a walk down to Café U-Noka.  Laying low now, in the warm afternoon, prepping for Bible lessons and Sunday's service, waiting for the kids to come home from school.

This every-other-day thing is intentional.  Our hosts work hard, and when we're here, let's face it, we're extra work.  So keeping things balanced is helpful, good, healthy.  And...drum roll please.... we've finally managed to elbow our way into the kitchen to do dishes!  Only took 11 years!

These are good, solid days.  Restful in the midst of working/serving.  Loving and being loved.  Knowing and being known.  

The First Few Flurry

It's always interesting how the first few days can just sort of happen in a quiet, upside down, turned around sort of way. We're never sure what time it is, what day it is, and if we're hungry or not.   Where are those labels I 'll need for tonight's lesson?  I was sure I packed those!

That sort of thing.

Despite the discovery of a 'spider of unusual size' in Megan's bathroom, all of us have slept well these first two nights, still recovering from the journey itself.   There seems lots to do, with unpacking and settling in, sorting out all the teaching supplies (where are those labels?) and reading prizes, and....just being here.  Having time and space for the kids...which I'm hoping happens at some point today, it being Saturday and a great day for reading.

Today Esther will join us, fresh back from her YWAM graduation (which we were able to attend last night) and ending six months away from Canada, pressed deeply into the kind of learning six months of intensive discipleship training does to a soul.

Our team will be complete.  Norma, Megan, Esther and me, here together for the first two weeks.

It's cool over night, about 17 C, making for fresh mornings and a day-long welcome absence of humidity.  Anyone who sent a hat for their Sponsored child...it was keeping a little head warm this morning for worship, as were fleece blankets, scarves and gloves.  Even us Canadians are admitting that it's a bit chilly (compared to the 32 C of yesterday afternoon), and we've got our jackets and slippers with us as we welcome the day in the circle of this family.

With no extra staff here currently, we will be participating more in daily chores.  At least that's our hope.  So far we've been shooed away from the kitchen sink or any other kind of work so that we can still recover from our trip.  I'm hoping, however, that we will wear them down and be in there up to our elbows very soon.

And so goes the first few days of unhurried flurry.

Such a place of contrasts this.

I'm reading the autobiography of a pioneer missionary to Thailand, Daniel McGilvary.  It's fascinating to read of some of his own impressions, some 100 years ago, that seem familiar to me as well.  Other than the comment "our quick passage of only one hundred days took our friends by surprise" (so I won't complain any more than it takes more than 24 hours to get here), there are some things that don't change.

He writes:  "The first work of a new missionary is to acquire the language of the country.  His constant wish is, Oh for the gift of tongues to speak to the people!"

I've prayed the same prayer.

"The syntax of the language is easy; but the 'tones,' the 'aspirates,' and 'inaspirates,' are perplexing beyond belief.  You try to say "fowl." No, that is "egg".  You mean to say "rice," but you actually say "mountain".

Yup.  Pretty much.

But perhaps the quote I'm relating to most so far.  "I felt very small for the great work so solemnly committed to me."

Yup.  Pretty much.

As these cool, fresh days unfold, I am open, curious, eager.  
And still looking for the labels I was sure I had with me!

Back and There Again

None of us are newbies, so we know what we're in for.  And it's all good.  Even here at almost midnight, we're feeling the excitement in these pre-boarding minutes.

Norma, Megan and me.  And once we get there we'll meet up with Esther who's been away for six months now.  What an experienced team we are!'s

For this second trip back Norma says she's going back to see her sponsored child Praweet, for sure.  But also, and here she pauses for emphasis, just to be there.  I get it.  Most of us who've been get it.  There's something truly healing and joyful about the place, the people, the way life is slower and simpler.  And there's so much love.

This will be Megan's fifth trip.  She's looking forward to seeing all the faces that she's missed.  She's also looking forward to some of the cooler evening temperatures and lack of humidity this time of year, compared to the record-breaking 'cooker' trips we've shared in the past.

I've lost count.  Honestly.  I'd have to go back and figure it out.  But I'm heading over with the same excitement, anticipation, longing as I do every time.  Can't wait.  Just....can't wait.

There are fun times ahead with planned out Bible lessons in the book of Exodus, a whole slew of new games from Esther's outreach experience, outings, singing, reading, and - like Norma says - just being.  At least that's what's more or less planned.  Then there's all the adventures we don't know about yet.  The ones waiting for us.

In our commissioning on Sunday Erin Ogilvie-Fisher prayed that we would be "safe but not comfortable".   Such a wise prayer.  That's what we'll press into.  Those places that challenge and change us, mess us up in all the good ways such adventures do.

Boarding soon.

Stay tuned for more.
Much more.

Mistletoe and Mosquitoes and All Things Weirdly Christmas

A Christmas meme scrolled past my social media the other day.  It showed a picture of a rather hapazardly-strewn Christmas tree decked with assorted school project manifestations.  The caption read: "I didn't know I was OCD until I told my kids they could decorate the tree however they wanted." 

I laughed because, well, that's me.

I know you're supposed to adore all the home-made things your kids make for Christmas, and in our time, our tree did indeed reflect that sort of stick-figure family charm.  I do hope we made memories that made sense out of the traditions of our love.  I think we might have, because some of those traditions are now carried on.  And I am so, so glad for those years.

But I must confess that when a new era dawned and the kids were decorating trees of their own in their own grown up homes, I was so happy to release the semi-Victorian, cherub-faced, gold and ivory, evenly-spaced energies I'd held back for so long.

I muse on that every year while I trim our tree, humming Joy to the Word and smiling in a vaguely OCD kind of way.

I'm musing and humming because..... there was that one weird Christmas.

In the fall of 2015 I had the exceptional opportunity to spend three months in Thailand, a time that began in September and dipped into the first two weeks of December.  At that point I had never experienced a Thai Christmas, and my Thai family was happy to help me engage in everything the season meant for them.

Christians in Thailand celebrate Christmas in something of a cultural vacuum.  It surprised me to learn that Christmas Day isn't a stat holiday, and on December 25th, people go to work and children go to school as if it was any other day.  There's a nod to the season in the retail world, more in the bigger malls, but not much larger than a three meter square display of Christmas wrap in any other supermarket.  Nothing in the villages.

In Christian churches, and certainly at Hot Springs, the emphasis is more on the Nativity story, and sharing a special lunch after service on the Sunday before Christmas.

That other parts of the world haven't plunged into the dark depths of Christmas consumerism is something to be glad about, for sure.  And I found, as we moved through the month together, all that was specifically Christian about Christmas was that much more accentuated.  Even before it got weird.

Of course, at Hot Springs, everything's simpler when it comes to all those extra trappings of Christmas; things like, say, gifts.  Not minimalistic in a pure sense, but, we do have twenty kids, all of whom have come here because they badly needed food and a home and a place to be safe.  So we're careful.  And we don't expect much.  Not just at Christmas.  But at Christmas, how much can you really do on such a tight budget? 

You can put up a Christmas tree.  Which we did together one afternoon.

We put it up outside.  That was the first weird thing.   But hey, why not?  Temperatures are 'plunging' to 18C overnight, but otherwise we're talking anything around 35 to 40 during the day.  We'll be sitting outside much of the time, so...that's where we'll put the tree.

So we're outside, humming Joy to the World, and it's getting hot, and nothing about this seems to me like it's right to be putting up a Christmas tree.  And I'm sensing this gradually-getting-stronger 'colliding worlds' thing, that crescendos into something of a mini existential crisis, realizing how much of my Christmas might actually be a conditioned response to a multitude of things that have nothing to do with the Incarnation, which is kind of a really big deal to recognize since I say my whole entire life is built on the centrality of this story, and not on how or where or in what temperature a Christmas tree is decorated, said Christmas tree, by the way, not showing up anywhere in the Bible, which is, ya know, only the truth source I say I want to live by.  And all this is sort of unrolling in my head like some annoying run-on sentence of disorientation when -- Hey What? -- the mosquitoes start going at it!  And then it really feels like things are all messed up now!

Yes.  I know.  Bit of an over-the-top reaction to mosquitoes, me thinks.  But in all fairness, this sheltered Southwestern Ontario girl hasn't ever been sweating and swatting while decorating a tree and singing Joy to the World before.  Ever.  It's like suddenly the whole of Christmas has been decorated by oblivious children, haphazard and strewn, happily stripping away all that's OCD in me and leaving me with -- well, nothing but Mary nursing God. 

And the God-Child isn't white. 

And everything's rather chaotic and organic and earthy.  Real.  Anything but evenly spaced.  And the angels aren't sweet cherubs but a host (army) that's freaking the shepherds right out of their minds.  And very soon the Holy Family will be wretchedly running for their lives, refugees seeking safety, fleeing the wrath of someone else's quarrel, desperate.

And there it is.  The weirdness making sense.

I didn't realize I was OCD until....

This doesn't end with me deciding against decorating for Christmas.  For me, that would be missing the point, ironically still focusing on the wrong thing, only in something of a reactionist-oppositional kind of way.   No, there's still a gold and ivory tree in our family room, and it's lovely.

But it's got a sister, half way around the world, outside, dealing with mosquitoes and declaring joy for some tenaciously amazing children who are more like the Infant Christ than anyone else I've met in my own entire life.

"Inasmuch as you've done this to the least of these......"

If Christmas is all weird for you this year, you're not alone.  

When You Get What You Asked For But Not In the Way You Hoped: The Ongoing Story of the Land Deed

So.

The answer from the Land Deed Office was, well, No.

More than that.  It was a 'come back in three years and ask again but we aren't promising anything anytime soon' kind of no.

For those just tuning in, you might want to refer back to my previous post on Thursday, October 17 (2019).  That was a week ago when we were all brimming with optimism because we were having more action on the pursuit of a land deed for a property ideal for our building project than we'd had in four years of waiting already.   In that post, I had left it purposely hanging because that's the place of trust, and there was something important about leaving it at that.

Obviously, this is NOT the answer we were hoping for.  And obviously, a three-year ambiguous maybe/no doesn't help at all with planning, and certainly doesn't address the need that's driving the project.  But I have to admit, I got what I asked for.

Because the last time we were all there with Ken, and Yupa's Dad was there with us too, we prayed together.  And I distinctly remember saying that we really, really wanted to build here and we really, really needed the land deed, but that, more than all the other really's, what we really, really, really desired was for God to lead us in the direction best suited for the care of these children.  I even remember turning my palms up in that 'letting go' posture of prayer that has become so important to me over this past decade.  I asked God to inspire us, lead us, provide for us.

So.

There it is. 

And it's been almost a week now since we heard the no.  And here's how I feel God's answering our prayers in ways we weren't expecting.  Because what I now realize I love about the 'no' is.....

1.  Being with people who are so resilient.

In the face of a smack-up-the-side-of-the-head kind of disappointment, there was such a solid sense of -- what can I call it? -- confidence, resolve, calm.  It was as if this was just one more step in the way forward, instead of being a set back.  'Oh. Okay then.'  Reflective pause.  'There must be another plan for us.  Let's figure it out together.'  Like that.  And I can't help but wonder at the goldmine that I've been given in the privilege of working with people who have lived their way through poverty and know how to keep moving forward against all odds.

2.  The expanded vision a 'no' can bring.

In the conversations that have happened since, a few new ideas have emerged, all of which are embryonic and require significant incubation.  Still, as this past week has unfolded, there does seem to be something forming that might possibly turn this no into a broader vision than we imagined originally.   We've talked about the purchase of another property (one in particular that's available in the seems-impossible-right-now) for our immediate need, while waiting out the three years on the original property and developing that at a later time in order to house more orphan and at-risk children.  Wouldn't that be a redemptive surprise?

3.  The call-to-action this spurs in me.

Being here this month, including this refusal of the land deed, has only clarified in my own mind (and I think I speak for our Team) that building a proper home for our kids is becoming more urgent.   Whether or not we wait, or pursue the purchase of another property, it's time for more intentionality in seeking the kinds of partnerships that will sustain New Family Foundation into the future.  The time is now.

I love the intimate places such times of trust provide.  We truly are following the lead of a God who wants the best for us, for these kids.  And I can't wait to see what's going to happen.  If we buy land first, it will cost us more, yes.  But it's nothing God can't handle.

We go the 'no' on a Friday.  The very next day, without any pressure or anxiety whatsoever, Suradet and I went out to walk the perimeter of another property close by that has better access to electricity (less cost for installation), is already leveled (less cost for excavation), still has a stunning view of the mountains to the east, and is close to the church and to both schools.  If we had the $250,000 to buy it now would I?  Not sure, but we might.

 Either way, what we do have is an unwavering conviction that something really good is around the corner.  It's just going to take some honest work and steady tenacity to get there.

Note:  Pictures included taken at new property. 

Timing Is Everything: The Unfinished Story of The Land Deed

Galatians 6:9

Let us not become weary in doing good,

for at the proper time we will reap a harvest,

if we do not give up.

"Follow me in case of snakes." A. Suradet

If there's anything I'm learning from my Thai family it's the capacity for an expanded relationship with time.  This is an 'event-oriented' culture, compared to our Western 'time-oriented' way of doing life, and it's likely one of the biggest differences this Type-A, first-born-female, administrative-maniac, efficiency-loving missionary-wannabe, excessive-user-of-hyphenated-words, has had to navigate.

This expansion of time thing has never been more evident as in our pursuit of a deed for a piece of property on which we hope to build a proper open concept home for the children. 

So many incredible flowers on the property.

The property itself is being donated (for a small transfer fee), and is ideal for our purposes.  Situated in between Hot Springs Church and both the elementary and high schools where our kids attend, it allows for Suradet and Yupa to continue their ministry as local pastors without disrupting the flow of life for the children.  It's on a quieter road than where we are now, this neighbourhood being significantly built up over the past ten years to the point where the children are not allowed to walk along the road due to traffic.  The new place is literally a five minute walk to a local community football (soccer) field.  And the layout of the land, and the view, are both quite captivating.  I for one would have loved to grow up here.

LOVE working this this Team!

But we need a deed.  The property is properly owned, but local municipal government has the right to control the use of land by providing or withholding the official documentation required to develop the land.   We've been asking, but the wait has lasted four years to now.


"At the proper time" takes on new meaning when considering these things.  Because, to be honest, a lot of things have needed to line up before we could do anything with the property anyways.  It wasn't until last year in November that New Family Foundation was officially approved as a charitable foundation in Thailand.  Up until May of 2018, I certainly would not have had the head space and focus to navigate the multi-layered, highly complex territory of Thai business and charitable law.  And, well, right now at least, we have no money.

That last little matter notwithstanding, we have persisted.  It's a matter of trust.  God's timing is perfect, after all.  We just keep taking the next steps forward to see what He's going to do.

And it seems that something's right about the timing of this trip, with Ken here especially, for the first two weeks of October.  Because after four years of trying and being told we just have to wait, something different has happened.  We've got some traction.

I night attribute this to three things that are different this time out than in all our previous attempts.

Suradet, Me, Yupa's Dad, Yupa, Ken, Pi Pooey

One - We went in person to the desk of the Land Deed officer.  Before this, all requests had been made by phone, which is normal and expected and normally considered more than sufficient in carrying out these matters.  But since Ken and I were here, Suradet had the idea that maybe a face to face was in order, just to get a bit more attention.

Bleached and Abandoned

Two - That face to face included white faces.  I'm sorry to say so, but the presence of 'farangs' (foreigners), who are usually associated with having resources, does make a difference in the social order of things around here.  The assumption is that if you have Western people backing you, then there's a greater possibility of whatever you're planning actually happening.  [Note: This can also backfire, like when the company arrives to pump out your septic tanks and charges you triple because there's a 'farang' (me!), sitting on the porch working.  But that's another (true) story.]  It seems that Ken and I were able to provide some leverage in this way.  [Another Note:  I am currently in the process of writing an academic paper about Paul's experience as a missionary that includes something called 'status inconsistency.  I'm eager to explore the delicacies of this more, especially in terms of how to balance out power inequities.  But that's another (long) piece of writing.]

Preferred location for main buildings.

Three - The Deed Officer apparently had not known we were interested in building a place for children in need.  She said most land deeds are requested so that properties can be developed for business and they are trying to keep that area more on the quiet side of things.  With this new understanding, the Officer, whose name is Pi Pooey (means sister of enrichment, more or less) said she would process things differently.  She herself is a supporter of under-resourced children in Thailand, and as such is more inclined to help us achieve our goals.

So, on Tuesday, October 15, she made good on this promise by actually coming out to the property itself in order to receive a site map, official documentation that we are a registered charity, and copies of the Thai citizenship of the current owners, all of which we had easily at hand.   I have to admit, since the process has hit so many snags up until now, I was surprised when she actually arrived.

So what's next? 

On Wednesday, October 17 there was a regional meeting where our request and documentation was presented.  We have been told we will hear an answer on Friday.

I'm writing this on Thursday.

Although I could save myself another posting, and/or even wrap up this post more 'tidily' by waiting until tomorrow for the outcome, it seems actually more appropriate to invite you to sit with me in this particular moment.  Because, we're still waiting.  And truth be told, even once we hear a yes from the regional council, we're still looking at a two month period of time before we have the paper in hand.

So we're waiting.  Still.  Waiting.  Waiting and being still in that ever-expanding dimension of time that is trusting God.  Might be a day or two, might be another month, might be who knows?

 But I do know it will be "at the proper time" because that's just how God works these things. 
And I'm learning more and more to just be still in that space. 
Like right now. 
Here, on the porch outside on an October day without knowing for sure. 

Explaining our vision again.

Collusions and Collisions of the Remarkable Kind

Ken and Bill "After All These Years"

With the fog of jet lag and general recovery from the trip, it's always a trick to figure out what day it is in the first week here.  Tuesday?  Yes, I think so. 

It's been a big day, too.  Our long time friends, Bill and Celine Hamade have been on their own wild adventure through Asia, and we made it happen that a stop over in Thailand would overlap Ken's time here this month.  And we're making the best of it by taking some out trips.  Today we stopped in for the Elephant Show at the Measa Camp, and then went on up the mountain to a spectacular garden with a worth-the-crazy-drive view.  Between the two, we ate lunch by a small cascading river, on a bamboo platform with a very low table; very Thai style.

Ken mentioned how 'worlds colliding' it is to be all the way here in Thailand with Bill.  These two guys have been friends since kindergarten.  Not kidding.  (That's 57 years...do the math!)  Lots of times at school, in each other's homes, at the cottage.....but a first for Thailand.

Both Bill and Celine have been incredibly supportive of the work being done with the children here at Hot Springs, sponsoring a child, and Bill having visited once before in January 2018.  That they would make a point of staying here with us these days means so much.  Their generosity and humour encourage Suradet and Yupa in ways hard to explain.

Catching the rainbow after a spray

While the purpose of this posting today is mostly just to share with you some shots of our first few days (and also to shameless show off some of the shots I was able to get with my new-to-me camera), it's also been a moment to once again marvel at the 'long story' of God who writes fascinating chapters into our lives.  No way these two guys, first hanging out at the sand station and having recess snacks together, could ever have imagined a life time of friendship that would have them hanging out with the elephants and enjoying Thai shrimp all these years later.

It's so cool when Sponsors get to visit, always.  This one just has that extra level of goodness to it.

Girls choosing their books

Celine is a natural.

A picture can't possibly...

So many flowers!

A quick run around the hoped-for property before the storm hits.