Set Back in the Chicken House

One of the things I admire so much about both Suradet and Yupa is their initiative and creative stewardship of the resources they've been given.  The new chicken house is a great example of this.

Way back on the new piece of property recently acquired with the help of the Korean Methodist Church, this project has been a focus of time and energy for the past several weeks.  By the time Ken and I arrived on September 16th, it already housed 10 hens and one rooster.  Then, just last week, 20 more birds were added to the collection.

The idea is to have fresh eggs, and also, as is prudent, fresh chicken to feed the kids.  Not unlike many Canadians who are concerned about where their food comes from, Suradet and Yupa seek to glean as much from the land as possible.  Only their motivation is more economic than anything else.

So when the full allotment was completely installed in the chicken house, there was a certain sense of, "Yes, here we go with this project.  Let's see what these birds can produce."  Suradet especially seemed very excited.  I think that was Friday.

Sunday afternoon there was a special event involving the young teenagers here.  It involved excited kids packing up music equipment and musicians, and heading off to Doi Saket, about 30 minutes away.  Someone was required to feed the chickens just before we left, since we wouldn't be back for regular feeding time.  And that someone, in their rush to be ready to leave, left the door to the chicken house unlocked.

That's when some neighbourhood stray dogs saw their advantage.  Must have been noisy, I imagine.  Because when it was all over, all but 19 chickens were dead.

Monday morning Suradet informs me.  I find myself truly sad and disappointed and perhaps even angry.  Come on!  These are people of meager means, doing their best to be participate in meeting their needs.  We just got those chickens!  With no time for any turn around on the investment, not one egg laid, this would be a complete write off.  Hardly seems fair, somehow.

Suradet observes my face, and smiles.  He gives a Scripture reference in Thai, and I look it up.

1Thessalonians 5:16-18

Be joyful always, pray continually;

give thanks in all circumstances

for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. 

The irony of this is not lost on me.

See, this is not a patronizing pastor too quickly defaulting to platitudes when attempting to correct the attitude of someone experiencing trouble.  I've seen these verses used that way, and to be honest, I've done it too.

But in this moment, this is not that.

This is the afflicted one reminding the angry privileged one  - who expects life to go her way all too often - that joy is a choice, and prayer and gratitude are better weapons any day against life's set backs and challenges.

"We will start again", Suradet affirms, "And tonight we eat lots of chicken!"


And while I'm not all that sure how I feel about eating meat that was slaughtered by wild dogs, I realize that I have been corrected in the most startling and gentle of ways by someone who clearly has so much to teach me. 

A Two-Things-Only Day....Wait, Make That One

At one point this week I started to map out my lists. 

As much wonderful fun as it is to be at Hot Springs, the true fact is that I am here primarily to fulfill the requirements of not just a Pastoral Internship, but also a Directed Reading and Research credit through Tyndale.  There's work to do.  And if I don't map it out, don't 'reverse engineer' it all, then by default I'll come to the end of my time here and it won't be pretty.  Not academically, at least.

Today is Friday.  I have to remind myself, because in the first-days disorientation of so-not-my-regular life, nothing feels like a normal day at all.  Not yet.  So today is Friday, and my first day here without Ken (the hard goodbye I'll save for another blog post when I'm over it, I think, maybe), and I had it in mind to start on the lists as a means of distraction.

But Yupa needed to go for a regular check up, scheduled with her doctor at Lanna Hospital in Chiang Mai.  Would I like to go?  This was totally optional.  Yupa warned me that she didn't know how long it would take, but she also said that afterward she'd like to go to the downtown core, uber-Thai-style food market for some regular groceries.  Having been to both the hospital and the market on previous trips, I knew more or less what I was in for, and I really loved that particular food market, so I said, Sure. 

The market is fascinating.  Think St. Jacob's Farmer's market only without any refrigeration, safety or health restrictions, and a lot of really weird things for sale to eat, like bugs and stuff.   And then jack up the temperature to about 45 C, cooking under a metal roof in cramped quarters.  Lots of fish.  Lots of flies.  Smells mostly like fish.  Yeah, like that.  And since I'm in for experiencing Thai life as much as possible, the food market was somewhere I was keen to go.  The hospital, not so much, although I learned a lot from my last visit.  And the wait, no worries.  I have my Kindle reader with a LOT of required reading loaded onto it.  I was good.

So, putting my own list aside, I embraced Yupa's Two-Things-For-The-Day list of the hospital visit followed by the food market.  

We left Hot Springs at 7:30 this morning.  Sky was overcast which helped to keep the temperature down a bit.  Dropped Bao off to school for 8, then headed through 20 minutes of stop and go construction traffic before arriving at the hospital.  Parking lot was full, so we added another 15 minutes by using the off site parking lot complete with over-sized golfing cart to take you to the front door.  Seats 6 but apparently up to 9 people can be accommodated....sort of. 

By the time we got into the building and took our number for the first station - #189 - it was 9 a.m.  And so began the waiting.  First bit we moved through quite quickly.  Yupa first had to register, then wait.  Then have her vitals taken, then wait.  Then have her blood work done, then wait.  After the blood work, she was told it would be two hours before the results would be sent up, and then the doctor would see her.  Bear in mind, this is her regular doctor.  Felt more like a walk in clinic, but no.  She had an appointment and this is how appointments with the doctor go. 

We found a spot (praise God for padded waiting room chairs) in the tight rows of benches, and set about to pass the time. 

Without a doubt, if Yupa and I were both bilingual or at least spoke the same language well, there would be no lack of conversation.  Even as it is, one of the things I enjoyed about today was the chance to just connect with my friend in a very relaxed sort of way.  We practiced English and Thai as we chatted together about the children's school progress (who's doing well and who's not), and about her mother's health (she had a small stroke when we were here last year), and reminisced about their time in Canada in January of this year.  Both Suradet and Yupa always ask about Highview, and specifically about people they now know.   The conversation is slow, as we struggle for words.  But we were waiting, so no hurry.  As we passed the two hour mark, she apologized, and thanked me for coming with her.  I said not to worry.  I was here for three months, so we had lots of time.  This makes us both laugh.

And besides, we only had two things on the list today.  This, and the food market.  Low expectations reduce frustrations, and I had already let go of my own list for the day, so.  Granted, the 'waste' of a perfectly good morning didn't entirely escape my notice.  I kept comparing what had been accomplished so far this day -  like, nothing - with what I might like to accomplish on any given morning at home.  I'm an early riser, and I do my best concentrated work between 7:00 and 10:00 a.m.  Lots can get checked off a list between 7:00 and 10:00 a.m.  But not today.

Approaching the three hour mark lunch was now being threatened.  But Yupa and I had both packed snacks, so we managed.  But - three hours?  This didn't feel like a walk in clinic any more.  It felt more like a trip to emerg.  But this wasn't random walk in accidents and the like.  This was a regularly scheduled appointment.  We were sitting where we could see people go in to sit with the doctor.   I started timing how long it took.  Thirty seconds.  Not a word of a lie.  The average time any one person actually engaged with the doctor was half a minute.  If something was really wrong, then you maybe got a full minute. 

At the four hour limit Yupa got the 30 seconds due her.  Good news is all her blood work came back normal and she was instructed to keep on doing what she's doing.  Yay!  Finally, we can go.  No, actually.  Yupa motioned for me to follow her to one more station where we waited another hour, no I'm not kidding, to pick up her prescriptions.

So now it's 2 o'clock in the afternoon.  I'm tired and I'm hungry.  But it's okay, because the second thing on the list is the food market, which is what I really wanted to do today anyways.  Except Yupa tells me, no, the market would be shutting down by now.  It will have to wait another day. 

Oh.

I am here to learn.  "Morning by morning he awakens me; he awakens my ear to listen as one being taught."  Isaiah 50:4  So, what did I hear today?

That a one-thing-only day is still a good day.  That Canadian health care is pretty amazing.  That some things are better accomplished by abandoning lists and letting life unfold.  That letting go of expectations, and in the company of a beautiful soul, frustration doesn't really even have to be entertained.  That my friend Yupa is enjoying good health and that is a gift worth devoting an entire day to.  That my list is still important, but it wasn't the boss of me today. 

However....I did get to check of "Blog about hospital trip with Yupa".   Sigh.  I'll get there.

My Thai Guy

It took some convincing, I'll admit to that.

With our two sponsored children Thim and Eg.

For the past almost nine years I have come to this place without Ken.  That's 15 times.  Not my choice to leave him behind, but his.  He's been more than wonderful to stay home and support my far off adventures, holding down the fort and offering over and above out of our own resources to make it happen.  In all of that time, he has been completely dedicated to the care of the children that Suradet and Yupa have gathered.  Even when he has been himself inconvenienced, he's never complained.  For all the times I've come without him, he has in so many ways been completely 'with' me in this.

Giving greetings from Highview on Sunday morning.

But at last, at last, he's here in the flesh.  And I admit that it took some convincing.  Strange to think of it now.  All the 'reasons' he had for not coming seem to have dissolved in the mountain morning mist.  Because this guy, it turns out, is so Thai!

He's good at Thai manners, conscientious and holding back, always waiting for the cues, never pushy or too loud.  He slow and clear when speaking English to new English learners.  He smiles a lot, which proves a helpful tool when in 'the land of smiles'.  And he's even trying out new food!  Anyone who knows Ken, knows this is probably the biggest deal of all.  My meat-and-potatoes guy has really pushed past his culinary comfort zone, and all with gentleness and grace and love. 

Decked out in Thai Pants at the King's Garden

He's even looking the part.  Upon arrival we realized that we hadn't really thought of how exactly he'd carry around his epipen (bee sting allergies).  An extra 'manly' Thai bag of mine provided the answer, and to please me mostly, he carries it everywhere.  Then, when visiting the King's gardens yesterday, he was required to rent some Thai pants in order to comply with the dress code (no shorts).   All of a sudden, my 'please-don't-make-me-go-to-Thailand' husband looks like he totally belongs here.

And he's acting it too.  And feeling it.  Feeling it in the deeper places sometimes when, as he described, he suddenly realizes just how happy God must be about all this - this small children being rescued thing, lives transformed thing, love and gentleness being nurtured in this sometimes dark and crazy world of ours thing.

It is hard for me to adequately express just how enormously I am delighting in his presence with me right now.  For one, we're about to experience a three month separation unprecedented in our marriage thus far.  I'm trying not to think about that too much.  Not yet anyways.  We still have three more full days together.  And in each moment, I'm delighting in and enjoying the fact that he's actually here.  He's here!  At Hot Springs!

But as well, there's just this fact that he came, all this way, pressing through his own reservations, just to see what all the fuss was about, and what has captured his wife's heart so thoroughly.

My Thai Guy.  Have I mentioned he's my hero? 

Love you so much, Ken.  Can't thank you enough for all you do to make so much possible.

Silly "Paw Ken"!!!!

Mot Leuri

Day two.  Settling in slowly and just trying to be here 'completely.

Full report this time on Bread and Honey.

I promise some pictures soon.

Tomorrow

Some random thought fragments, as I settle in to my last sleep at home.

Calmer now than the past two hours or so of impossible-to-avoid last minute packing.
Releasing into the adventure whatever I have forgotten to do or pack.
Stepping outside for a furtive thank you to my patio 'garden' for such a great summer.
Opening myself mentally and spiritually to the 30 hours of travel ahead.

Reveling in the fact I don't have to say goodbye to Ken just yet.
Enjoying that sweet deal it is just to be in your own bed.
Laying my spirit down into the One who is Sovereign.

So here I go.
It begins tomorrow.
Or perhaps, in all the fragments of thinking required to get to this moment,
it's begun already.

Photo Credit: Dave Driver

Spacious Hearts

 
 What is it about kids that just renovates your heart?

You think you've reached a capacity, that you couldn't possibly love any bigger, and then another one moves in and, well wouldn't you know, there's lots of room!

I've been thinking about this a lot in these last days of preparation for spending three months away from home, at home with 26 kids who have found room in their hearts for me.  And even in using the word 'home' twice in that sentence, I understand what is implied.  That my heart has at least two homes.

The crazy thing about it, one home doesn't diminish the heart-space for the other.   Just as loving one child doesn't 'use up' love meant for another, or being part of one family doesn't push out the space for being part of the other, there always seems to be more than enough room.

It's part of my motherhood story that what I had deeply longed for was a large family.  Didn't happen, not out of my own body.  And our two adult children are amazing and I'm proud of them both, and the partners they've chosen, and I'm glad for the way of being family we have become.  But there was a time, a long time actually, when I felt unfinished.  Eventually I was able to let that go and embrace a new thing, a new way of nurturing, through the opportunities I have been given to serve as a pastor.


And I love what I'm allowed to be and do among my phenomenal faith community.  But it's also part of my pastor story that there have been difficult, desolate chapters.  Times of unmitigated stress and anguish, of grief and bewilderment.

And then, after a while, more children did arrive.  Three in the astonishing gifts of grandchildren.   And then, who knew!, twenty six more in the gifts of reclaimed treasures half way around the world.

So I look up now, and wonder, where did all these amazing children come from?

I am reminded of a similar question put into the mouths of a displaced people by a prophet, long, long ago.

"But Zion said, 'The LORD has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me.'
"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has born?
Though she may forget, I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands....
Your sons hasten back, and those who laid you waste depart form you.
As surely as I live," declares the LORD, "you will wear them all as ornaments;  you will put them on, like a bride.
"Though you were ruined and made desolate and your land laid waste,
now you will be too small for your people....
The children born during your bereavement will yet say in your hearing,
'This place is too small for us; give us more space to live in.'
Then you will say in your heart,
'Who bore me these?  I was bereaved and barren; I was exiled and rejected.
Who brought these up?  I was left all alone, but these - where have they come from?"
Isaiah 49:14-21

It was in the middle of some of those dark and bewildering times that these words first captured my heart and gave me some hope to wonder on.  Being careful not to take this outside the realm of the prophet's original intent - there was an original audience for this after all - there still seemed so much that described my feelings and circumstance at the time.  And in the text God does seem to want to bring reassurance to a discouraged people.

At the time, being a typical pastor focused on church growth, I wanted these words in Isaiah to be some sort of reassurance about Sunday morning attendance at Highview.  I now see how small a dream that was.


Because hearts and imaginations and dreams and God's ways are far bigger than the limits of my self.  We love because He first loved us, it says.  And our capacity, apparently, can grow to the degree we let go and let Him do whatever His expansive heart desires.

I expect more expanding renovations will happen for me while I am away.  They are sometimes painful and messy, so I should expect that too.  But in the right Hands, the finished product is always a beautiful thing.