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.

Where's My Key? And Other Humiliating Figures of Speech

There are two things you need to know before I get to the punch line of this post.

One is that I carry nothing when I visit Hot Springs.

Just ask anyone who's visited.  As a gesture of love and respect, there's always a scramble between the children as to who gets to carry our stuff - bags, Bibles, computers, anything - back to our rooms.  Sometimes I can lose track of who took what.  Remember this.

The other thing you need to know is that despite my valiant and persistent efforts over the past eleven years, I experience a fair degree of despair at ever reallmy being able to master the Thai language.  I make a good go of it.  I seem to be understanding more, and it seems that I am understood more each time I go.  And likely, if you don't know Thai and were to listen in on my conversations, you might even be slightly impressed.  Maybe.

But the real truth is, most of the time, I talk like I'm two. Being with my grandson Jayden, who is two, makes me realize, with a sigh, what I must sound like when I speak Thai.   "Me did it!"  "Kalking (talking) about?"  "Cow book, Gramma!"  Like that.

I can more or less make myself understood.  I can "read" a little bit.  And if I practice long and hard and have tons of help, I can actually preach a sermon from notes.  But it's stumbling and grammatically clumsy, and tonally incorrect a lot of the time,.  Often as not I struggle with basic vocabulary.  When this happens, I might say all the words in a sentence in Thai, but just insert the English word where I don't know the Thai word, and hope that someone will catch it in context.  Works pretty well a lot of the time.  But I still struggle.

To be fair, I only got started in Thai when I was 51.  Who attempts a new language, a tonal language, a language with a completely different script at the age of 51?  Younger people who have come with me and spent far less time submerged in the language can rattle off sentences like nobody's business.  But I speak baby talk most of the time.  And sometimes I make embarrassing mistakes.

During a time when we needed to stay at the guest house next door, I always kept my key in the same little pocket of the backpack that I used to carry things back and forth.  On this particular night, I had sort of lost track of who exactly had my backpack.  That's why, when the truck pulled up to the little porch in front of my little room, I did not have my key.

That day we had been to a market.  Plus, the evening's Bible lesson had required quite a few props and such.  So, as well as my backpack, there were my purchases, and my purse, and the bag of teaching supplies.  I had been eagerly relieved of every one of these, back in the meeting room.  And, just because it's fun, all the kids had climbed into the back of the truck for the two minute ride down the road and up the driveway to the guest house.

Now that we were unloading, I wasn't sure where my key was.  That's when I asked a most inappropriate question.

"Chan [key] you-tee nai?"  That's 'Where's my key?" with the English word inserted.

The happy chatter hushed.  Eyes grew wide with a degree of shock and confusion.   It was one of those 'uh oh' moments when you're in a different culture, and you know something's wrong, but you can't quite figure out what.

"Katort, ka" I said, excusing myself.  Whatever I had just said, it probably wouldn't hurt to apologize.

And then, all in English, "I don't know where my key is."  And I mimed turning a key in a lock.

Oh!  Yupa understood with a big grin.  She explained, ever so politely, that in Thai the word "key" said in a low tone, as I had done, is a rather rude word for, well, poop.   So basically what I had asked, in quite a coarse kind of way was,  "Where's my s**t?"  And if you're slightly uncomfortable with me writing it out like that, just think of how uncomfortable I was realizing what I had said!!

I put my hand over my mouth and apologized again.  And again.  (You can't be too polite in Thailand.)  And I would have kept on apologizing except Yupa started laughing and all the kids joined in and we all had a good laugh at Ahjahn Ruth's unfortunate mistake. Gringjai (keep the harmony) and all that.

As a language learning moment, it was effective.  I have no problem since then remembering that the word for 'key' is "koon-je".   And I'm even careful how I say the English word "key" when it comes up in conversation.  Believe me.

And believe me when I say that for all the fascination I have with linguistics, and the little advancements I see from time to time, and even with all the grace shown to me as I learn and sometimes make rude mistakes, it sometimes frustrates me.  No.  It humiliates me.  Learning another language, when I have to work at it as hard as I do, makes me feel stupid, foolish.  I have self-doubt.  Sometimes I wonder if I'm just fooling myself, thinking I can do this.  Why am I working so hard at something I will likely never master?

And then I come across a very simple sentence, buried in the reading I'm doing for my current course of study.  I'm exploring Paul's dual role as missionary-pastor, and in a book recommended by my supervising professor, there's this.

"There are few more humbling, affirming, submissive, and loving gestures than to learn another's vernacular speech."  (1).

Ah yes.  There's that. 

I'm reminded of a conversation with Philip, a talented young Thai with a good grasp of English.  He said that when Western people (farangs) come to Thailand for work or longer term ministry, and make no effort to learn Thai, it communicates a sense of superiority.  Here he opened his hands palms down and held one hand over the other.  He thanked me for making the effort and thereby demonstrating that the Thai language, and by default then, Thai people, are worthy of that effort; that we are equals.   And here he held his hands side by side. 

Of course, this communication of equality goes far beyond language learning.  It even goes beyond learning the culture, as important as that is as well.  It's more about an attitude, a genuine understanding of and engagement in the kind of reciprocity that, come to think of it, makes for all my best relationships.

So I guess I will continue to press my now 62 year old brain into this.  Let the younger ones outstrip me.  I'll put aside my ego and keep plugging.  I will do a little bit every day.  I will memorize what Scripture verses I can.  I will learn the songs and practice the tones and write out the vocab in my little pink book.

And I will remember that this is all done in the name of an utterly astonishing God who, in loving affirmation, at one point in history, humbled Himself enough, and submitted Himself to actually become a two year old learning the human vernacular of speech.   Did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped (Philippians 2:6).

Maybe one day I'll get a handle of Thai syntax. 
But this. 
This I will never understand. 

Except that in some way, it becomes a mysterious motivation for my own incarnational life-work. 

(1) From Pastor: The Theology and Practice of Ordained Ministry, chapter 11 "The Pastor as Lead Missionary" by William H. Willimond, quoting missiologist Lamin Sanneh.

The Garage Sale Study Plan

Saturday, September 14, 8 am to 1 pm

My house is a travesty.   

For someone who thrives in order and organization, much of my house right now reflects anything but.  Bins and bags, labelled and priced.  Larger items propped up against the walls and furniture.  Most of it is in the front room where it more or less smacks you in the face as you walk in the door. 

It’s been this way for weeks.  In fact, much of this ‘stuff’ provided a similar sense of chaos and disorder as it was packed up and piled up at the cottage, getting ready for its final destination.

The Garage Sale.

Yes!  In less than a week now this stuff will be outahere!  I’ll have my front room back, lots cleared out from our ‘other’ cottage property, and the house will sort of sigh and relax into a more free way of being for a while. 

I don’t like the chaos, but I do like the futures it affects. 

Love it when we can connect the dots like that.  From chaos to futures changed forever.  Because all this ‘stuff’ is heading to a Garage Sale that will help buy books, tuition and computers for under resourced students in Northern Thailand who would never, never have had a chance for a higher education.

New Family Foundation exists to come alongside orphan and at-risk children born in poverty and uncertainty in the mountain villages surrounding Chiang Mai, helping to change the trajectory of their lives.  Being welcomed into a family, given proper nutrition and medical care, our kids live in a family together in elementary and high school years.  Then, like here at home, they are launched and unleashed to the post secondary school education that best suits their abilities and aspirations.

Somchai graduated a year ago from his small engines mechanics and repair program.  He came to Hot Springs when he was 10 years old, dreaming even then of being able to support his single Mother one day.  Now he is working his trade, caring for his Mom, and excited to start a new chapter in his life with his new bride.  Somchai’s winning smile tells the story of a future changed forever in a country where child poverty normally paints a very different picture. 

So ‘stuff’ piled up is okay by me right now.   I’m looking forward to spending Saturday with other impassioned volunteers, greeting members of the community surrounding Highview Community Church, and sharing the joy with every shopper who drops by to make a difference.

If you’re in town and can drop by, we’d be happy to see if we can connect you with an item to take home, that connects you with a student half way around the world. 

If you’re not in town but want to contribute to the NFF University Students’ Fund  you can visit us on line at https://hcckw.churchcenter.com/giving and follow the prompts from there.  Any questions, you can email me directly at rabreithaupt@hcckw.ca.

And thanks!  To everyone who has donated goods, to all our volunteers, to FaithLife Financial for including us in your Action Teams program, and to everyone who comes to shop or donate.

It’s a Garage Sale Study Plan that makes all the difference in the world.

Where Honour Is Due And Ken's Second Trip to Thailand

A rare and sensational wonder will be happening this October.

Ken, my husband and life partner, superhero of support and generosity, silly ‘GrandBob’ to our four here- at-home, and honourary ‘Paw Ken’ to our family in Thailand, THAT Ken, is traveling with me to Hot Springs! 

I know, right?!!!

It’s rare because Ken is the ‘man the fort’ dude in this ministry partnership we’ve got going right now.  That partnership where I get to do all the traveling and he gets to stay put and eat normal food.  I say it that way because I’d like to clear up what sometimes comes back to us as two misunderstandings.

One is that Ken is sadly left behind while I get to have all the adventures.  Ken does not feel this way.  He’s glad to stay home and eat normal food and wake up in his own bed and go to work doing work he’s really good at and really enjoys.  He’s glad to stay back and do the grunt work of the numbers and help me figure out travel arrangements and stay on the phone for almost an hour at a time with the people booking our ‘free’ flight on frequent flyer points.  He’s glad to be in Canada while I’m in Thailand, contending with scorpions and the heat, while emailing back and forth about on-th- ground kinds of things, so we can make good decisions together with our Thai ministry partners.  And did I mention the part about eating normal food?  Yes, he’s genuinely glad about that.   So, let’s just be clear on this point.

And the second misunderstanding is that, since this is only his second visit to Hot Springs, it indicates somehow that Ken is not as invested or interested in what’s happening in Thailand as I am.  This is also not the case.  Not at all, as only partly demonstrated by what I’ve just described in the paragraph above.  

And to further make this point, if you want to, if you get the chance, just ask Ken to tell you about his personal study on the subject of what makes God happy.  I dare you.  You’ll see very quickly -  in his telling of the story of being ambushed by a very strong ‘aha’ moment directly connected to the faces of our children at Hot Springs - just how tightly this thing we do together is wrapped around his heart.  This thing we do.  These kids we now have in our extended circle of grandchildren.

I am so very excited to be travelling together with this incredible man next month!  But even more exciting, amazing, and sensational is that I have had the honour of doing life with him for over 41 years! It’s cliché, but absolutely true that I could not be doing what I do without his support and generosity.  And how perfect is it that we are so differently gifted and impassioned and yet it fits so well together to serve in God’s kingdom like this?  That it’s not ‘his ministry’ or ‘her ministry’ but truly ‘our ministry’, hand in glove, together. 

So, honour where honour is due.  “Paw Ken” is a man of high esteem in my books, and he’s made the world of difference to a whole lot of kids who would not have had a chance otherwise.  Which, we’re pretty convinced, makes God very happy indeed.

September will be a month of anticipation and packing and getting Ken caught up on his travel vaccinations!  (Sorry Honey.)

Can’t wait to be posting the pictures from THIS trip!!!

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.