The View from Here

The lush green of Hot Springs in October as seen from the porch of Suradet and Yupa's house.

Haven't been able to blog much these past few days.

It's not that I've been too busy, although I've been busy enough.  There's a steady rhythm for each day, book-ended by worship each morning and each evening, and punctuated with getting ready for school, daily chores, doing homework, going to market, and the incredible meals I'm served from Yupa's kitchen.  There are gaps, like right now, when nothing too much is going on, and I can stop and reflect, or prepare for tonight's devotional, or make notes in my book about things to bring next time, or observations about each child.  Or blog.

I've had the time.  But truth is there are some deeply profound reflections happening inside of me this trip.   God has been opening up my perspective on timings...proper timings....and I think I'm grabbing a sliver of what He's seen in bringing about throughout my lifetime, and how that has been essential for what He's wanted to do here, now.

I catch the edge of this perspective whenever Boy is translating conversations where Suradet, Yupa and myself are telling our stories.  When we begin to recount the ways in which we have seen God working in our lives, both through the brutal times and through the blessed times, and when we suddenly connect the dots when it comes to timelines and what was happening when; that's when it starts to sound more and more like some complex yet pure tapestry of lives intertwined in colours of grace and provision and triumph.

When did Suradet and Yupa first feel called to bring children into their home?  When did they start praying?  When did Highview first begin to hear God's whispering about Regions Beyond?  When was our first trip here and what was it for?  It's almost spooky how all those things line up.

More personally for me is this life long thing of first having an inclination toward SE Asia at the age of 11.  How it took 40 years to get here.  How that was exactly the time when Suradet (who weren't even born when I was 11), needed resources to provide for what God was calling them to do.

We are the sons of our fathers
We grow and we go
To the daughter of daughters
And it all goes to show
This is the union of children
That touches us all
God bless the children
For they bless us all
No one can say this is not the work
Of the one who looks over us all
And the love that is given
The love we all share
Is the greatest gift of all
Love asks for nothing
Expects no return
Love’s understanding
Can never be earned
Love comforts and guides us
Each step of the way
And brings us together
On this joyous day
- See more at: http://stevebell.com/kindness-album/greatest-gift/#sthash.yRdE07SG.dpuf

There's more.  It's been five years since we started this with them.  Those five years should have been the most ineffective five years of my personal life or ministry life, and for Highview.  Circumstances, without God, would have destroyed our ministry in Canada.  Instead, God birthed something so spectacular, so Isaiah 58ish, it could only have been possible because of Him.

Sometimes, during our conversations, as we come to the realizations together, we have to stop talking.  God is taking our breath away.  Tears of awe fill our throats.

And those deep things sit deeply within me.  Still figuring it out.  

Byron O’Donnell / Signpost Music
We are the sons of our fathers
We grow and we go
To the daughter of daughters
And it all goes to show
This is the union of children
That touches us all
God bless the children
For they bless us all
No one can say this is not the work
Of the one who looks over us all
And the love that is given
The love we all share
Is the greatest gift of all
Love asks for nothing
Expects no return
Love’s understanding
Can never be earned
Love comforts and guides us
Each step of the way
And brings us together
On this joyous day
- See more at: http://stevebell.com/kindness-album/greatest-gift/#sthash.UE50vCrM.dpuf

We are the sons of our fathers
We grow and we go
To the daughter of daughters
And it all goes to show
This is the union of children
That touches us all
God bless the children
For they bless us all
No one can say this is not the work
Of the one who looks over us all
And the love that is given
The love we all share
Is the greatest gift of all
Love asks for nothing
Expects no return
Love’s understanding
Can never be earned
Love comforts and guides us
Each step of the way
And brings us together
On this joyous day
- See more at: http://stevebell.com/kindness-album/greatest-gift/#sthash.yRdE07SG.dpuf

The Delight of an Ordinary Saturday

Lovely Wara, growing so fast.

Saturdays have a good feel to them, just generally speaking.  It's the weekend.  Mornings can be slower.  Change of pace and scenery for most.  Feels like a free day.  Same at Hot Springs.

We get up the same time, actually.  Morning and evening devotions are like the anchor points to the day, and it would be rare if they were lifted.  Sometimes the evening time is put aside in favour of an outing, but the mornings are pretty much a given.

But after worship?  Light chores, breakfast, and then gathering around the table where Ahjan Ruth is writing emails, just to see what else might happen.  And it does.  We played with the Ipad Anne gave me; Google Maps to be specific.  And we went from Thailand to Canada, hovered over my house for a bit and then 'drove' to the church.  That was really cool.  Kids were quite impressed. 

Then, some of the kids drew pictures for their Sponsors.  Then we watched 'home movies'.  I have clips from almost every trip, and just like every family, these kids love to laugh at themselves because of how young they looked 'way back then', and some of the silly things they did on camera.  Had to apologize to Somchai.  He was going nuts in a silly boy kind of way on tape back in 2008, and when he walked by all tall and teenaged now, and saw what we were doing he actually couldn't stay, he was so embarrassed.  (I do think we're okay....I apologized later and he gave me one of his incredible smiles and said, "Mai pben rai, kup.")

One of dozens of Yupa's amazing orchids.

Dressed up bunny for sale as a pet at the SanKampangan market.

It was lunch then, served by (big) Boy, Apple and Bao (in Suradet and Yupa's absence who were writing an exam for the leadership and administration course they are taking at university).  I took the advantage of lying down then.  Still don't think it's jet lag, more due to the humidity. 

Woke up with lots of time before supper to make sure I am ready to preach tomorrow morning, and have both tomorrow morning and evening's Psalm 91 portion for devotions ready.   Looked at email from Asia's Hope administrator Addison Smith which prompted a good conversation with Suradet about the 'extras' involved in caring for 23 children.  (Eg. How soon would you wear out a washing machine?) 

At one point in the day I noticed a small toad in the bathroom, and that didn't really bother me, except later he was gone and I'm not really sure where he went.  Still, ordinary for Hot Springs.

By 4:30 it was time to head out for supper and then Sampangken  market - a true Asian market experience where I am usually the only farang in sight.  And that was true tonight.

Early to bed, because tomorrow is Sunday, and a lot happens on Sunday.  Including morning worship which will be at 5:30 as usual (but not on the mountaintop because that's about the time it rains every day still).


I should add that in the midst of it all I am working on my Thai, trying to add to my vocabulary daily, and doing my best to string sentences together whenever possible.  Mostly I'm just pleased if anyone understands anything I say at all.  As of today I have begun to say grace only in Thai.  And even with (big) Boy present to interpret, and even though I   know I could use English and be understood, I'm doing the brain search and the pause and....trying. 


And there it was.  An ordinary Saturday with an extraordinary family.  Nothing spectacular...except it was.

I've mentioned before that I was only 11 when God first planted something in my heart for SE Asia.  These past few days here this time, He's seems to be unfolding a bit more about that to me.  Pondering that some.  Next blog I hope to explore that a little more.

For now, I am content to be heading to bed, getting ready for Sunday tomorrow.  I truly do love to spend the time with the dear people of Hot Springs Church who are so gracious as to treat me like an old friend, even when there's only about three things we can say to each other.

Blessings on this Saturday of yours....may it be extraordinarily ordinary for you.

Like I Never Left

The children stop to pray for the Sponsors who have sent their love in these packages.

Day two dawns all misty and cool.  The moon has a glimmering ring around it as we make our way to morning devotions in the dark.  By now the sun is warming the mountains who yield their cloudy cloak gradually into an end-of-rainy-season green-of-all-greens.   A huge snail slimes across the cement floor of the sheltered space outside Suradet and Yupa's house, where I am now parked for a bit.  Later we will head into Chiag Mai to do a currency exchange and have lunch.  Then I get to sit in on a parent-teacher meeting for Bao. 

I am feeling remarkably un-jet-lagged.  Slept beautifully all night last night.  Like, all night.  Appetite is normal for regular meal times.  And I'm loving the Thai food.  Feeling so good! 

There's always changes when I come.  Improvements to the property, rearrangements of who stays where or which out building is used for what.  This time there's a Korean couple staying in the guest house.  They are apparently here for a while, assigned from the Koren Methodist Church to do mission work in Thailand.  From what I can gather, they are working to establish a prayer ministry in Thailand, and Hot Springs, by virtue of the denominational affiliation and because, come on! - who wouldn't want to live here?, has become their home base.   I am, for the first time ever, staying with Suradet and Yupa in their space, eating at their table, sitting outside on their porch in the (relative) cool of a Friday morning.

And it's like I never left.  Little changes yes, but it still registers as remarkable that I can be this far away from home and feel so at home.  The chatter of little Thai voices.  All those crickets and frogs singing from the forest.  The tom kao (rice pudding) for breakfast.  Opening up new-but-becoming-less-so pathways in my brain to learn Thai.  The reliable rhythm of life here.  The slow and unassuming miracle of rescued lives transforming.

Last night after evening devotions, I had the enormous privilege of handing out the packages of love sent by the Sponsors at Highview.   Before that happened though, Suradet directed the children to put out their hands and pray prayers of blessing and love to each Sponsor.  They do it all at once.  All voices lifted in a cacophony of praise and gratitude for those who have made their rescue possible.  And it's wonderful.  And it reeks of God's compassion.

And in all of it, I am at home.  Driving in the driveway the first time, it feels like I'm coming home.

Can I say it too much?  Probably.  But the repeatable awe of it for me is that God would deem to grant me this great gift when I am so undeserving.  This much?  Really, God?  This is so much more than I would ever have dreamed up for, for myself. 

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."  Ephesians 3:20-21

Getting There

It takes a while to get to the other side of the world.  Even by now, when we've figured out the most direct route - Korean Air from Toronto to Seoul to Chiang Mai - it's still a 30 plus hour trip from door to door. 

I am now in Seoul on the three hour layover.  That's just the right length.  Time to freshen up a little after the longer 13 hour flight, grab a drink, walk around and stretch for a bit, and then find a spot at the gate to ponder how long it takes to get to the other side of the world.

It's definitely getting easier.  That first trip, oh dear I was a mess!  Had no idea how to stay comfortable in a cramped space with dry recycled air for 13 hours at a time.  How to pack my carry on for smooth security checks and easy access to what I'd need to occupy myself during the flight (not nearly as much as I thought, actually).  How to avoid the swollen legs (commonly referred to as cankles, as calves and ankles just sort of balloon into one another).  How to drink enough water the day before and all throughout the flight.   How to settle in and let the journey be a beauty unto itself. 

Left to my own devices, I'm actually NOT a traveler.  Funny, then, that this is my eighth time.  Strange that I know how to get there with relative ease and comfort, that I'm that experienced now.  Odd that this homebody can sometimes and often be found so far from home.  Crazy that I'm not only willing, but excited to do this alone.

It's love.  Or a calling.  Or maybe there's not really a difference between those two.  It's the sound of hope and joy manifest in the songs of no-longer-orphans, strong and sweet and loud and defiant against the poverty and despair that once threatened their future.  It's the magnetic draw of true heroism, demonstrated in the radical hospitality of two of the most selfless people on this wide, round planet, Suradet and Yupa. I count it as one of my life's true treasures that I have been allowed to know them, and be taught by them.

It's the awareness that, just like these children, you too have been embraced and loved into a new family, despite the baggage you might bring.  It's seeing God's grace-story enacted again, and realizing afresh that grace wins.  Grace always wins. 

And so I sit bleary and weary - neury mahk! - with strangers in a far away airport, waiting to get on to yet another airplane.  And right about now it's been 24 hours without sleep (unless you count the hour I was able to nap on that last flight).  But I don't care.  I really don't care.

Because soon enough I'll be with them.  And weird as it is, as far away and different and other-worldish as it is, it will feel like home.

There are four places in the world that my heart knows as home.
Wherever my husband Ken is.
With my Highview family.
The cottage.
Hot Springs.....my farthest away home.

"Ten thousand blessings for my heart to find."