The Long Green Snake of Deliberate Knowing

A cobra is about as knowing as they come.

The one in question shows up one afternoon about mid way through my three month stay that fall of 2015.  I've only done it once, stay three months like that.  It was a special investment that not only helped  with the completion of two credits towards my academic goals, but also offered a richness of incarnational knowing beyond any expectation. And that's what this whole thing is all about.

Except, I really could have done without the snake.

That first time we see it, it skulks its way behind the dining shelter's half wall at the back near the kitchen, surprising Pi Dao (our cook and nanny at the time) who is minding her own business chopping vegetables for supper.  I am a little bit removed, up under the porch by Suradet and Yupa's house, working on a school report.  It's quiet just before, all the children at school, sunny and hot, even in the shade, with a fan taking care of that.  We're out in the country a little bit, and the space and pace of a Thai afternoon is quite agreeable.  Peaceful.  Restorative.

Pi Dao's terrified screams changes everything in an instant.  I stand up, alarmed not just by my understanding of what she's screaming  - "Ngu!  Ngu!"  Snake! Snake! - but by the sheer terror in her voice.   I am told very firmly to keep my distance, which I am more than happy to do.

Thai's don't like snakes, not at all.  Since most of them are poisonous, and well, they're just creepy (sorry to all you reptile lovers out there), it doesn't even take a big one to get a reaction.  But Pi Dao's terror and urgency gives me a hint that this one is probably a respectable size.

There is more screaming, and long sticks are brought out, and there's some fishing around in a nearby bush.  But the thing gets away from us.  I ask how big was it?  Where we might stretch out our arms, Thais indicate by holding their hands in a circle to demonstrate circumference.  About as wide in the middle as a good sized-orange.  O-kay. 

So now I have a riddle.  What's worse that sighting a cobra on your property?
Losing sight of the cobra on your property.

He lurks around like that, unseen, for two weeks.

I had never thought of what it means to snake-proof a room before, but Suradet reminds the children of all their snake safety that night at evening worship.  All the screens are checked over.  Towels are wrapped up and put at the bottom of the doors.  Everyone is extra cautious for days.  I find myself giving a wider birth to the bushes than I had before.

And then, to be honest, I forgot about it.  I was sure it must have gone on its slithery way by now, back up the steep hill and into the jungley forest.  But again in the afternoon about two weeks later, everyone quietly doing their own thing, soaking in the gentleness of the place, and quite without any invitation or notice, he shows up under the cabinet.

More screaming this time, louder and angrier.  There is now a fierceness in both Yupa and Pi Dao that rivals any she-warrior image one might conjure.  This snake has had it's last day threatening our kids!  I am up with my camera now, quite happy again to keep my distance, but close enough to watch.  Yupa has it pinned against the wall with a long piece of wood, about half way down its length, leaving a vicious top half spitting and hissing and striking.  Pi Dao has another long pole and is taking aim at the gyrating monster's flailing head.  I hear the 'deng, deng, deng' of her attempts against the cement, and then, finally the fatal blow.  Spontaneous cheering!  Danger is done.  The creature is dead.

I am unsure of this, however, as I approach.  The long thin green body still writhes in slow motion, even though I can see the skull is crushed.  Pi Dao smiles at my apprehension, takes her pole one last time and strikes the head again.  There.  See?  Dead.

I take pictures.  When the kids come home they all have a look.  A neighbour drops by later and asks if we're going to eat it, and is offered to take it home himself for supper.

Yes, a cobra is about as knowing as you can get.

My husband Ken asks me why I tell these stories.  "You want people to come, don't you?" he asks.

But that's the thing.  We don't know anything if we don't live it real time with them.  We can't begin to pretend to come alongside in any kind of honest way, any kind of authentic partnership if we have no idea about the cobras.  Until we've felt the fear ourselves, or the heat, or the long discomfort of waiting six hours to see a doctor for less than a minute, or the agony of losing a son because road safety and policies are just that lax.  Unless we know this by living it with them, incarnationally, we don't know anything.

 Not everyone will stay three months.  Likely I won't be able to do that again even in the new reality that will be my more-Thai-connected life very soon.  Three months is a longer time.  Not nearly as long as the years some actual missionaries have invested, for sure. But for most of us, it's more likely to be three weeks.  I'm hoping for two six week stints in a year.  We'll see.

My point is, we need to be there.  Yup, it's expensive.  And yes, there are some risks involved, cobras being only one variety.  But it's real.

And if you can, please come.  We would be so happy, Suradet, Yupa, the kids and I, to have you visit us.  I can't promise any cobras.  But I will predict that it will change you in ways you couldn't imagine....mostly because you just showed up in person.  Which makes all the difference in the world.

To find out about the next two trips being planned contact me at rabreithaupt@hcckw,ca

Women Changing the World

"The benefits of girls' education are jaw-dropping:  child marriage could decrease by 66% and teen pregnancies could decrease by 60% globally (http://m-gates.es/1x8Yiuc).  

What are we waiting for?"   

Melinda Gates

"The education and empowerment of women 

throughout the world cannot fail to result 

in a more caring, tolerant, just and peaceful life for all."   

Aung San Suu Kyi

 
I would like to introduce you to an up and coming world changer.  Her name is Miki and she's a 5 foot powerhouse of intellect, creativity and compassion.  Currently she is in her last year of engineering at Chiang Mai University, which is commendable on a few levels.  It's not an easy school to get into, and the requirements for entrance into the engineering program itself are rigorous.  Add to that the fact that, as a woman, Miki is definitely a minority among her academic peers.  

Never mind all that.  Miki is on her way to big things.  

 With both parents deceased and no school available in her village, Miki was an orphan in the truest sense of the word.  She came to Hot Springs as a 10 year old in 2007, by way of recommendation by her village pastor who no doubt saw her potential.  And it wasn't long before her abilities and self-confidence began to unfold in the care of this loving family environment.  Notable skills in art, music, math and language only enhanced her thoughtful, caring and fun-loving demeanor.  She became a 'connector' of sorts within the larger family at Hot Springs, falling quite naturally into the role of older sister to the newer, younger girls.  Whether braiding hair, helping with homework, learning bass guitar to play in the worship band, preparing and serving meals, or carrying out the many other shared domestic tasks a big family requires, it seemed that whatever Miki put herself to, she excelled.  This was quite naturally reflected in her solid school performance, earning good grades and the accolades of her teachers until, here she is, on her way to being a change agent in her world.


I didn't know all this that first visit in 2008.  Not at the airport when it was time to go and she was the one most visibly upset by my departure.  All I knew was that somehow I had made a surprisingly deep and quick connection with this little girl, and all her brothers and sisters, in spite of the fact that we could barely speak a word of each other's language.   All I knew was that this little child trembling in my arms was a treasure to be loved recklessly into whatever God was calling her to be, even if it broke my heart to leave her now.

Two heroes need to be recognized in this story.  One is no longer with us, but both have made an unmistakable difference in Miki's life, and share in the great things she's about to do in the world.  George and Joan Duff have been Miki's Sponsors from the beginning, contributing to her education, sending small packets and gifts regularly over the past ten years, including pictures and letters of love and encouragement.  When given the opportunity to sign up as Miki's Sponsors, they didn't hesitate.  As Melinda Gates so accurately asks in the above quote, "What are we waiting for?"

When asked what she wants to do with her degree when she's finished school, Miki simply replies, "I want to help my people."  She has a mountain perspective, knowing first hand the kinds of poverty that keep so many hungry and oppressed. 

Regular Sponsorship of our Hot Springs Children cover all living and educational costs up to the end of high school.  All of our children are encouraged to continue in their education as far as they can and desire.  Like here, that costs extra, but not at all to the same extent as university fees in North America.  Right now it costs approximately $2,000 Canadian dollars per year per student to both house and educate a post secondary student.  

Student Sponsorship Fund is a new designation that has developed in response to this need.  It might be that you would be interested in sponsoring the education of one particular student.  It might be that you would be interested in make a general, regular or one time donation specifically towards sponsoring the continuing education of Hot Springs students.  If so, we would welcome you into the adventure, keep you updated on the student's progress, and even invite you to come for a visit if you are able.

Easy payment options can be arranged through emailing me at rabreithaupt@hcckw.ca or contacting Highview Community Church directly at info@hcckw.ca.  

On this International Women's Day, why not go international and make a difference in the life of a young woman half a world away?  Thailand needs their women to succeed.  When that happens, everyone wins.

 

Her Name Is May and We All Want What Her Face Is Saying

Photo Credit: Esther Weatherall

For the vast majority of us, I'm thinking this Friday holds meaning.  When you woke up this morning, there was something you had to do, or perhaps wanted to do.  And it likely had a connection with how you want to make a difference on the planet, in all the big and little ways this happens. 

I'm doing a lot of that kind of thinking lately.  I am coming to a finish line of sorts, ending a time of ministry as a senior pastor to a vibrant, grace-filled, persistently loving community of faith that I cherish deeply.  It's impossible to approach the release of this kingdom assignment, which officially happens on May 27th (2018), without a heightened sense of awareness of all that I may or may not be leaving behind in my leadership wake.  (More reflections on all of that in a future blog.)

Even without the prompt of a significant life event, we don't have to go very far in a Google search to find countless articles about the spiritual and psychological importance of finding purpose and meaning through the intentionality of making a difference that matters in ways consistent with our resources, beliefs and passions.   

Whatever else I might be considering in my reflections right now, one place that provides tangible, obvious evidence to suggest this kind of difference-making, is the face of May.  And not just her, but the unique and spectacular family into which she has been embraced. 

Photo Credit Pastor Suradet

I am of course talking about Hot Springs Children's Home, about 45 minutes north east of Chiang Mai in Thailand, where orphaned and other at risk children are cared for in a family led by two super heroes of compassion and grace, Pastors Suradet and Yupa.  Prompted by their own sense of calling and desire to make a difference that matters, they began welcoming children into their home about 11 years ago.  Highview came alongside in partnership a year later.  We've never been the same. 

It's in these two pictures of May that I make my point.  With shorter hair and in pink, this shot taken soon after her arrival depicts her undernourished condition as seen in her too-thin frame and the marks of impetigo on her face.  I'm glad she's smiling in the 'before' shot, because it was hard to get her to do that at the beginning.  She was timid and uncertain and, well tired, as malnutrition will do.

I was there last in January (2018), and the contrast is remarkable.  So much confidence!  So much spunk!  The picture above speaks volumes to the kind of difference the Hot Springs family, and May's Sponsors (monthly donations, twice a year packets, and love) have made in this little life.

Education is a big piece of this.  May would not have been able to go to school in her own village.  For girls, especially, but all of the mountain children, this puts them at risk for getting stuck in the cycle of poverty, human trafficking, criminal activity, and premature death.   

But not May.  

I invite you to share in this kind of difference-making.   

This year is full of new opportunities.  Come with me to Thailand and see for yourself (July 2018, Fall 2018, January 2019 are target dates).  Sign up to have your own life changed through sponsorship.  Be part of the establishment of a fund that will help ensure May can continue post secondary education if she so chooses.  Make a one time contribution to off set some cost of living increases Hot Springs is experiencing.  Get on board with a potential building project that's developing even as I write, either with financial contributions or by coming to do some of the labour yourself.  

I want what this face is saying.  I want to have lived a life that made a difference in important ways.  Not big and flashy ways, I left that desire behind a ways back.  But in smaller more spectacular ways.  Like this face. 

If you want something like that too, email me at rabreithaupt@hcckw.ca.  I'll even take you out for coffee.  Let's talk.

Happy Friday.
  

Oh Ye of Little Blog

Sunrise Over the Mountain

It's the day before that it hits me.  Tomorrow I leave for home.
And always that same weird time warp kind of feeling.  How could it be time to go when I just got here?  And how could time have gone by so fast when it feels like I've been here for way longer?

Is it the time difference or my heart that messes me up like this?

In looking over the communications and postings of the past four weeks, I am surprised that there's so little.  It's true that we had to cancel the mountain trip (due to washed out roads), and that we didn't actually go into the schools  with our ESL program (due to new educational guidelines).  So in a way there was 'less' to write about.

But life here is rich just in the context of this family and these eager kids and their heroic parents.  Different experiences, from the mundane to the extraordinary, happen every day. Truth is there's so much here to reflect on at any given moment.  And usually Hot Springs is a perfect place for that kind of musing.

Not so much this time.

Several reasons probably.  One was the extent of my seasonal fatigue when I arrived, and on top of that, catching a rather bad cough and a touch of the traveler's bug right out of the gate.  Those first ten days to two weeks it was enough just to make it to morning worship, prepare sermons and evening ESL and Bible lessons, and sneak in a nap when I could.

But later on, even in this last week when I've had the time, I've been more prone just to be here than to write about it.  There's lots to write about yet, I know.  Being a guest at a Thai Buddhist wedding.  The unfolding story of the purchase of the new property.  Observations and delights about the kids themselves.  Deeper things in my own soul that always happen when I'm here and this far away from my 'normal' life.  It's all there.  I just haven't blogged about it yet.

And there's the fact that as I write these words a beautiful man at home who's lived a long and godly life, is gently breathing through his transition from all that he's lived out here to the eternal, spectacular life he's about to step into.  And there's a hush I feel, even from here, and I want to respect that.

So, more stories later.  Some on Sunday, February 4 when the Thailand Team gives our report at Highview.  Some later after I'm home and sorting myself out in the wee hours of the morning.  And some will perhaps have to wait until after I'm done these next four months, which I want to do with great focus and love and energy and grace.  After that, time to write I think.

I'm reminded of a Steve Bell song that sums up the bigger story God is writing here.

"Oh we know in our hearts that this must be the work

of the One who looks over us all.

The love we've been given,

The love we all share

Is the greatest gift of all."

And yesterday Suradet led in what has become my theme song for this whole Thai experience.  There's a story behind that too, but for now I'll just end with the words to the chorus.  It reflects the impossible overflow of gratitude that basically undoes me every time it's time to go.

And now

Let the weak say 'I am strong'

Let the poor say 'I am rich' 

Because of what the Lord has done for  us.

If You Expect the Unexpected Is It Still Unexpected?

This might be the only picture of the whole Team to together in Thailand.

 Time for an update on this unusually unusual visit to Hot Springs.

Despite the slower feel to this year's trip, this is one of the first mornings I've had to sit uninterrupted and record some of the happenings.  Sam has arrived safely home and Bill will return from a weekend in Bangkok later today.  It's warming up after a cool-for-Thailand weekend where I admit I was glad for the long pants, scarf and long sleeve jacket I had brought for the mountain.  Still much better than the weather we're hearing about at home.

Saiy came to church!!

Sam's two weeks here has been quite a 'thing'.  We will get a fuller report directly from Sam on Sunday, February 4 when the Team will share their experiences.  For now, I would encourage us to be praying for Sam as he readjusts back to Canadian climate and time zone, and processes all that did and did not happen while we were here.  It is quite remarkable, really, how much of what we thought we were going to do we didn't get to do.  That takes something of a toll on the psyche, and when you're far away from all that's familiar, it takes even more personal stamina to keep on 'going with the flow'.

Hair cut day.

Bill arrived on January 6 and has fit in around here very well for a first timer.  It helps that he has a good appetite for different kinds of foods, and is generally well traveled.  Again, we will hear from Bill directly on February 4.  But it has been pretty cool for me to have someone I've know as long as I've known Bill (since highschool - Ken since kindergarten) come and see my 'other life' here at Hot Springs.

Dow is learning to play guitar. (With Any)

Both Bill and Sam have been huge assets in the ESL support we provide when we're here.  I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but we've set up a reading club where, when the children complete the reading of 24 books they can choose from an assortment of prizes.  The books are a combination of the library they have here (which was far less extensive than I had remembered) and from books we collected for the purpose of going into the locals schools.  When that didn't pan out, we just used them for the book club, and it's been great.  Thanks again to all who donated easy reading books about winter.  They are fascinated with snow and it has helped encourage the reading.

 

Bill reading with Eak. 

I'm pretty sure we're going to do something like this each time we come.  Learning as we go.  Thanks to Laurent as well for contributing to the prizes. 








So that's one thing that's actually worked out like we expected.

Everything else, not so much.  No mountain trip.  No ESL in the schools.  No zip line for Sam.  Even the coffee shop down the street was closed the day we walked there!

It will be the theme of both reports in our series "Expecting the Unexpected".  January 28 we will hear from the Haiti Team, and February 4 from the Hot Springs Team.  While this is somewhat 'normal' for missions trips, I think you will agree, when you hear our stories, that these two trips have required an increased level of flexibility and surrender as we have navigated our way through completely out of our control kinds of circumstances.  Some of it has to to with weather, and some of it has to do with people's decisions, and ripple effects.  All of it stretches us in ways that are often uncomfortable, even to the point to wondering why we came in the first place.

Special couch for the preacher.  Hmm......

When I realize that I haven't actually reported anything since January 2, and here we are two weeks later, it's partly because of this.  So much easier to blog about wild adventures.  But when plans are cancelled and you're left with the ordinary stuff of daily life, and not too much is happening....  Except, I guess this is what Suradet and Yupa, Jaroen and Dtu live out every day.  And to be with them in the quiet ordinariness of that is a good thing too.

Having said that....I did get to go to a Thai Buddhist wedding yesterday.  That's another blog altogether.  Just one learning moment from that experience though.  Thai skirts need to be tied up pretty tight or they'll fall off.  Hard to explain, but it's just the way it is.  And no, mine stayed secure, but at the expense of my comfort at the reception as they kept bringing out more and more fantastic food!!!  Oy!

New Years' Pictures As Promised

Check out the link at Bread and Honey for pics of New Years' Eve celebrations at Hot Springs.

Of Washed Out Roads and New Plans

(More New Years' Pictures to Follow)

We didn't get to go to the mountain for New Years.

This is a big disappointment.  So much so that when the telephone call comes, Suradet's face tells most of the story even before he give us the news.

The unusually heavy rains (for January) have literally washed out the road to the village.  This is that last little part that happens after anything resembling a paved road.  That the steep, rutted narrow lane way that takes a hour to go 11 km.  That red, treacherous, impossible-to-doze-off-even-if-you-weren't-already-mesmerzied part of the road. That part.  It's gone.

Literally washed down the side of the mountain.  This isn't even as if there was a landslide blocking the road way.  This is a road that's just gone.

There was a pig fattened up just for our visit.  There were hand made gifts ready.  There was a New Years' Service and other festivities to participate in.  We had gifts too, and a lot of expectations, to be honest.  In our farang world, more often than not the plans we make more or less happen sort of the way we plan they will.  At least, it's not that often that roads just disappear.

This was why we rushed away right after Christmas.  This was a big part of Sam's especially hope for this trip, to experience first hand village life, and to get to know Suradet's family a little better.

But the road is gone.

Takes me a day or so to get my head around this, to be honest.   No mountain trip?  Wow, that kinda sucks.  But there is this.  Had the road washed out AFTER we were there, it would have meant that we would be 'trapped' in the village until the road could be rebuilt.  I'm not sure exactly how long that takes, but apparently it's long enough that we can't even think of planning another time before I go.  Longer than a month, that means.  Longer than Sam's ticket home, for sure.  Weeks, maybe months?  That could have been an adventure, yes, but still.

So we celebrate New Years here.  And, hey, that's not all bad.  Just like at home, the kids get to stay up way late, trying to stay awake, watching a movie and eating food.  Pounded sticky rice is a traditional mountain treat, and so amazingly yummy when it's fresh and warm.  Sam and I got to help with the pounding.  (Again I am impressed with the physical strength of these people!)  There are small banger fire crackers that help with the celebrations.  And at the point of count down (sort of) we sing and pray the new year in.

Just a note:  In an event-oriented culture, apparently even the countdown to the new year doesn't have to be that precise :).  I think we were about 2 minutes late, even by the clock we were using.  Love it.

So 2018, here we are.  Unexpectedly not in the mountains.  But "expectedly" amazed by the richness of life, even in the adjustments, even in the disappointments.  Because I'm not in the mountain.  But I am surrounded by a cozy bunch of sleepy children who mean so much to me.  And I am under an almost full moon pounding sticky rice like it's been done thousands of years before this.  And I am guided by a loving God whose timing is perfect, and plans are good, and knows.  He knows.

As we miss count in this next year, I find I am "expectedly" deeply content.