The Awkward, Beautiful Mess

Last night our local Thai church celebrated their 13th anniversary. Even though we have begun to worship elsewhere on Sunday mornings (to have worship/fellowship in our own language), we still feel deeply connected and find our lives intertwined outside of Sunday worship. As we cooked food and prepared for the celebration, we were excited and honored to join the festivities.

Unfortunately I injured myself shortly before the party and had to arrive late on crutches. Sixty people were crowded cross-legged on the floor of the living room where the church normally meets. Seeing my disability, a friend graciously offered me a chair near the door looking over the group.

I sat wondering how to position myself. How do I not get in the way of the worship team? Or not block the entrance? Or not point the bottom of my foot at the whole church—an action in Thai culture akin to using the middle finger?! A chair in a sardine-packed room is a place for the honored. Why should I sit there?

As the celebration progressed, I felt the full messiness, awkwardness, and beauty that accompanies so much of cross-cultural ministry.

MESSY because I’m attempting to sing along with the Thai script I see projected on the wall. I can only keep up with half of the fast-paced, complex words. 

AWKWARD because I am functioning in a culture that is not fully my own. I don’t always know how to respond to the dozens of culturally awkward situations we find ourselves in every week.

But mostly BEAUTIFUL because in this moment of worship, our hearts are united by the Holy Spirit’s undeniable presence. Tears of joy run down my face, seeing tangible reminders of all God has done. Nobody is concerned if his jubilantly-loud voice is not in perfect pitch. No one is judging my fumbled lyrics. When my words are lacking, my heart is still singing.

Some days I see fruit in ministry. Other days I just pray no one trips over my own weaknesses. That’s when God reminds me that weakness is ok. I was never meant to be the focus of the work anyway. God is. And was. And will be long after I am gone. My job is just to be available. It is a privilege to join in a tiny piece of the great work that He is doing here. May God use our beautiful, awkward messes.

Why Did We Care About the Boys in the Cave?

I’m thankful for the international response to the 12 boys who got stranded in a cave in Thailand. I followed the news, prayed, and cheered along with the world as the rescue went on. But the whole time a nagging question has been in the back of my mind. Why do we care so much about these 12 boys and their coach, while we are simultaneously able to turn a blind eye to so many other tragedies?

Obviously the media and accessibility has a large role in this. But I believe there are some larger factors at play.

1. We can relate to the boys.
   Most of us have been on a sports team or found ourselves in precarious situations as adolescents. While we will never know what it was like to be on this soccer team, it’s easy to TRY to imagine what those 18 days must have been like. I have no capacity, on the other hand, to imagine what it’s like to be in chemical warfare in Syria or a genocide in South Sudan. My mind labels these tragedies as “terrible”, but the gruesome reality of the situation escapes me.
2. It could have been us.
   Or our kids. Or our grandkids. Being trapped in a cave doesn’t sound that far from possible reality for me. But other wars and horrors seem removed from my life.
3. The group was small.
   When we can narrow in and focus on ONE face we see the humanity of the situation. When we’re presented with statistics about “millions of people” it remains just that—statistics.
4. The clock was ticking.
   The objective was clear, and we intuitively knew that either the boys would get rescued or they would die. It wasn’t a story that could play out for years, or even months. It’s easy to rally around a short-term issue, but we as a human race, tend to experience empathy fatigue over events that drag on with no deadline.
5. We are limited.
   We simply don’t have capacity to care about each global tragedy. My heart, time, and brain is limited. God’s is not. He is the only one who sees each sufferer. But I must choose where I focus my time and energy.

I'm not saying we shouldn’t care about 12 boys and a coach stuck in a cave. We should. But now that they are safely out, I challenge their followers (myself included) to be their advocates in their long-term plight. The coach and three of the boys are stateless. This means nobody will claim them as citizens or give them a passport. They have no "home country" to go back to. They can't open a bank account or own land or legally own and drive a car. They are treated as second class and in danger of human trafficking.

In light of their publicity, maybe there is hope for these four individuals. But what about the millions of others like them who have no face, no voice, no story in the news? Will we find enough room in our hearts for them?

I have more questions than answers on the situation of global suffering. But, for Christians, prayer is a starting place in letting God—who cares for all and knows all—lead our response.

Thailand's Nationwide Water Fight

I have fond memories of water fights as a kid—chasing my brothers around the yard with dinky squirt guns and repurposed mustard bottles. I recall three rules. No squirts to the face. No squirting adults. And no leaving the yard.

Thailand’s weeklong nationwide water festival ups the game and breaks all the rules. Strangers mercilessly splash and shoot each other, young and old. Gangs of normally-well-behaved adults (temporarily transformed into gleeful 10-year-olds) ride in the back of pick-up trucks dumping buckets of ice water on each other on the highway. Motorcyclists seem to be a particularly attractive target, causing an alarming number of accidents. Some parts of the city are much tamer than others, but there is no “safe” zone.

For the past 6 years we’ve mostly kept our celebration to the limits of our own neighborhood. This year, being the first year that our girls will tolerate water to the face, we ventured a little farther downtown for the festivities.

To our surprise, we stumbled on a parade which we thought had ended a couple hours before. (Apparently it was a very LONG parade.) In my culture, parades mean no water play. But not here. While some had a little more reverence for the significance of the parade, many Thais were throwing buckets of water on to the participants and by-standers both.

Large vats and inflatable pools were ready for speedy-refills and hoses provided a continuous spray.

Our girls were quick to join in the play with some of the other bystanders both young and old.

For many, the week long water fights are simply a way to have fun and survive the 100-degree temperature. But others hold on to the significance of the holiday's origins. Traditionally it's a time to ask for forgiveness and pray for one's elders. While we differ on how this is done, it's a great bridge to open conversation about our own beliefs.

Pray for Thailand during this week of celebration. And pray for us as we carefully find opportunities to strengthen relationships and share life together. Normally we don't do this with blasts of cool water, but this week, I suppose, is the exception.

"Wildlife" in the Tropics

I walked into the kitchen this morning and flipped on the light to find this staring me in the face. One of our many household lizards bit the dust in the electric socket last night. I used to think indoor lizards were a bit creepy, but after finding them in my water glass or having them fall off the porch ceiling onto my head, I’ve just accepted them as a normal, even welcome, part of daily life in Thailand. (After all, they cut down on mosquitos!) This got me thinking about the other creatures prowling around our neighborhood. Even though we live in the tropics, most of the “wildlife” here in the city is not as exotic as you might think.

Don't mess with 220-volt outlets.

The Neighborhood Cat
Our neighbors are great at rallying around this cat and collectively caring for it. For some reason, the cat prefers to live in our yard. That is until this month’s “cold spell” when the cat showed up in a fluffy sweater too thick to squeeze through our front gate. Just how “cold” was it when I took the picture? Eighty-six degrees. Don’t hate me America.

Pythons
I’ve never seen a python in our yard, but our neighbors are good at warning us when they see one creeping behind our house. If you’re the type who likes nightmares, try googling “pythons hiding in toilets.” But if you’d rather keep your sanity, just be assured that python attacks in the city are very infrequent!

A friend in our neighborhood caught this guy in her yard last year.

Street Dogs
I’m actually more scared of the local dogs than pythons. Thankfully, the pack that roams our street is pretty calm. When we took the girls out to eat earlier this week, I noticed this cute puppy waiting patiently by our table. When we got up to pay, he sauntered over to the table to lick off the table top and plates! Some other dogs are vicious and have rabies. No one would dare pet them. Last year in America, my daughters were horrified to discover that some families allow these creatures INSIDE the home. We had a little cultural explaining to do on that one.

Not ALL street dogs are scary. Like this cute puppy that tried to follow us home.

Rats
We've never had a rat in our house, but the small-cat-sized ones have an odd affinity for dying in our yard. Sometimes they (along with dead pigeons and frogs) reek of death for a few days until we find them under a pile of leaves. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that a dying rat means the pythons are probably at bay.

Bugs
Some of the bugs in city are pretty cool looking. Like this one we found on our porch. God’s creativity amazes me.

A Lantern Bug in our yard. 

The "wildlife" in our urban neighborhood may not be glamorous, but it definitely brings variety to our lives. I’ll take these tame creatures over the more exotic tropical animals of South East Asia any day!

EDIT: To those of you who seem to think we're "brave" for living here, let me say that:
1. We really do have it easy compared to most places in the world.
2. We're not dealing with sub-zero temperatures and mice squeezing under our doors. ("Mice" here can't fit in our house!)

We're not the brave ones after all. :)