Barbarians

As I've recently returned to the country of my birth, the place that seems so different now to me than it once did, I have to face myself. Sometimes what I've seen seems so far away not even real. Yet, I know more than ever that the pain and suffering and need still exist. It is still my responsibility and joy to do what I can to bring light and hope to those in darkness.

While overseas I read a book called "The Barbarian Way" that I think holds a lot of truth. I'd like to share some quotes that really struck me from this book.

"The safest place to be is in the center of the will of God...I've always had a great disdain for this statement, but I have to admit that this particular context (the diary of Corrie Ten Boom) shows me how far we've strayed from how it must have been understood...Clearly neither of them (Corrie or her sister Betsie) concluded that this expression conveyed a belief that God would keep them from suffering hardship and even death. Betsie's statement was a declaration that to walk in the character of Christ is always the right choice, regardless of outcome or consequence. We have somehow perverted this more primal understanding to a far more civilized one. Instead of finding confidence to live as we should regardless of our circumstances, we have used it as justification to choose the path of least resistance, least difficulty, least sacrifice. Instead of concluding it is best to be wherever God wants us to be, we have decided that wherever it is best for us to be is where God wants us. Actually, God's will for us is less about our comfort than it is about our contribution. God would never choose for us safety at the cost of significance. God created you so that your life would count, not so that you could count the days of your life."

"How have we come to this sanitized view of the faith to which Jesus calls us? Somewhere along the way the movement of Jesus Christ became civilized as Christianity. We created a religion using the name of Jesus Christ and convinced ourselves that God's optimal desire for our lives was to insulate us in a spiritual bubble where we risk nothing, sacrifice nothing, lose nothing, worry about nothing. Yet Jesus' death wasn't to free us from dying, but to free us from the fear of death. Jesus came to liberate us so that we could die up front and then live. Jesus Christ wants to take us to places where only dead men and women can go."

"The original call of Jesus was so simple, so clean, so clear: "Follow Me." He wants us to surrender our lives to Him and follow Him into the unknown. And if it means a life of suffering, hardship, and disappointment, it will be worth it because following Jesus Christ is more powerful and more fulfilling than living with everything in the world minus Him. Have we forgotten this?"

"We resist love to avoid pain and squelch our dreams out of fear of failure. For the Spirit of God to unleash dreams and visions within our souls, we must become free to risk and to fail."

"Anyone who chooses the barbarian way will learn quickly that love and sacrifice cannot be separated. This is perhaps why so many of us who know love fear love. We know that love is not the absence of pain. If anything, love is the promise of pain. No one has loved more deeply than God. Has anyone ever been more betrayed? God would not know suffering if He did not know love. But because He is Love, He chose to suffer on our behalf. Without love there is no glory in suffering."

"The more civilized we seem to become, the more detached from the pain of others we end up finding ourselves. Good needs to be done, but someone else will take care of it. The barbarian revolt tolerates no such abdication of responsibility. Every citizen of the kingdom of God is brought into the heat of the conflict between good and evil. Everyone who swears allegiance to Christ bears responsibility for humanity. The power and force of the barbarian way are that each once who chooses His path must find the courage to jump."

"Jesus leads us into the heart of the dark kingdom, into the soul of what is most evil. He takes us where mankind has chosen to live. He calls us to where the darkness has made those who wander there desperate for light. He leads us as warriors of light to risk our lives for the deliverance of others. Again, our own weapons are love, hope, and faith, and they are our only defense. Yet we above all know that they and only they liberate us and fulfill the deepest longings of our souls."

We all have a choice.

This doesn't mean that we all have to move across the world, not at all. But it does mean that we have to be trusting enough to get up when He calls us and follow where He leads wherever that may be. We need to live in such a way that we aren't seeking our comfort but His glory. Not our safety but His fame. Is our God absolutely loving? For sure. He was loving enough to send Jesus for all of humanity, do you not think He is loving enough to send us for those who don't yet know Him? To be allowed to be an instrument of His love...that is something worth living for and worth thanking Him for. I'm being reminded yet again of the worth of living life for Him only. Sometimes we can think that there is something more important to live for...yet I don't want to get to the end of my life and realize that I traded serving the Lord Almighty for vain idols which didn't profit.

Last Post for this Chapter

Dragon fruit plant

   For my last Saturday in Thailand I got to do something that is fast becoming one of my favorite things. I got to take a truck up a mountain and visit with the villagers at the top. I love that. I love the beauty of the clouds and hills. I love the green of the fields and trees. I love the uncrowded, unpolluted, simplicity of mountain life. I love sitting around on the floor of the huts, salas, and three-sided buildings. I love eating dragon fruit and bananas right off the tree. I love the kindness of villagers, and stopping speak with a woman on her way home from work in the fields with two children in tow. I love the afternoon snack of boiled sticky rice mixed with coconut milk, peanuts, red bananas, and sugar.

   It has been such a privilege to have the opportunity these last few months to meet so many sweet people and get to share life with them, if even for a short time. Uncle, the man we went to visit yesterday is about 70 years old, paralyzed, and alone. He has no relatives, no children, no friends really. He lies on the floor of a shack with three sides. He calls out to those walking past when he is hungry. He has laid without being washed for about four years. On our first visit to care for him we found him surrounded by smelly old clothes and filth. We bathed him, cut his hair, clipped his nails, and changed his clothes and bedding. A sweet co-worker and friend of mine used her nursing skills to assess and care for him. He seemed to be pleased with the outcome and feeling refreshed. A co-worker of ours, native to this village, who had a heart to help this man arranged with the village leaders for a volunteer to come once or twice a week to wash this sweet man and clean his hut.

   This trip was to check on his progress and whether the caregivers were feeling okay with how things were going. Uncle seemed much more engaged this visit. He kept reaching out to hold our hands. He spoke in Shan to our co-worker who translated for us. He said that he was so happy we came back to visit, he said that he feels good but a bit lonely, he doesn't have many visitors. When he heard that we were coming to visit he was very excited. He even asked that we cut his hair again. So, we clipped his toenails, checked for skin break down at pressure points, cut his hair, and smiled often. He delighted in attention, in people who made a special trip up the mountain just to see him. He enjoyed feeling like he mattered to someone in the world. I didn't want to leave him... there... alone. I wonder at his story, where he came from, who he is inside.

   "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." At the end of my time in this place, saying goodbye to people dear to my heart I still say, "It is better to have loved." Because we loved...leaving hurts. Because we loved, the thought of not seeing our kids grow up hurts. Because we loved...the tears fall as we say goodbye. The pain means that we loved. However, that love is not lost. It is held in the hearts of everyone who received it. Maybe they won't remember us for long, but hopefully they will remember that they are loved. Maybe that paralyzed man won't remember us cutting his hair, but hopefully he'll remember that someone loved him. Maybe the children we held, taught, and played with will grow up with a knowledge of what love is. No, we haven't lost. We are forever changed for the better by the people we have loved and by the people who have loved us. I will always love them so long.

Please Don't Forget

   "If Partners didn't help us, we wouldn't make it." She told me this as we sat under the green trees in the mountains of northern Thailand. She said it sincerely and with gratitude. She and her husband care for thirty-three children in one of the children's homes that Partners helps support. She has three children of her own and thinks herself old at 33 years of age. The children at this home expressed gratitude for the hygiene supplies we brought yet mostly I think what they appreciate is food. In their homes and villages there is often not enough food for everyone and so they know what it is like to be hungry. Even at this home there is sometimes not quite enough. The children know well how to dig up and find things in the jungle that are good to eat. These are not people who have plenty and who don't really even notice an extra dollar. For these people absolutely every dollar goes to meet a practical need in their lives. Most of them know what life looks like without that help. They give generously of what they have, little though it may be. A statement I heard often was, "We just have a lot to talk to God about." They believe that He is a big God and that He will come through for them...because He always has, through people like Partners who get involved in practical ways in order to show the love of Christ.

   This was a similar story that I heard all over the mountains. A story of not enough, of no opportunity, of hopelessness. Yet for the people I spoke with, knowing the Lord had changed that. The Lord had brought them out of addiction, out of refugee camps, out of despair. They follow Him. They care for others often when it means sacrifice for themselves. A family of five (caring for the 33 children of this home) living off of 5,000 baht ($167) per month decided to split that income with a family of three with a baby on the way. They do this so that the other family has a chance to survive as well. They help meet needs in each other's lives.

   One boy, about 15, is a hard worker, smart, responsible kid. He takes care of others and does more than his share. His parents have told him to his face that they don't care about him. That he's not worth anything to them. This breaks his heart. Who would be strong enough to take that? Yet, he continues on with a good attitude although often in great sadness. I asked what will happen to him when he finishes high school. They said, "Oh, nothing. He has no money, his parents don't care, and he doesn't have the chance to go to school after that. He'll just go back and try to find work." They would help him if they could, but it's impossible for them. What would be so little for someone in the States would mean the world to him. It would open up the world for him. He's not the only one.

   About a month ago three boys from this home who had finished high school showed up in Chiang Mai. They came to woman I was working with and told her, "We have no money, we have nowhere to live, we have no food, and we have no idea what to do. But, we trust God, we want to help our village, we want an education. Is there anyway you can help us?" She did, because she's a generous woman who loves God and wants to be His instrument in anyway she can. She let them stay with her, she fed them, she enrolled them in school, she helped them find a home, she paid their fees. These are the first generation...she can't support them all. How will the rest survive? Who will help them?

 This is the girl's dorm. Above: inside Below: outside

 These are the children who live at the home.

 These are the three bathrooms for the 35 people.

This is their kitchen and dining room. The floor is made out of bamboo and I completely thought I was going to break it. 

   The beautiful, strong, kind caregiver of the 33 told me several times as we were preparing to go, "Don't forget us." "Please pray for us." "Please don't forget us." Somehow they know, that most of the world doesn't know their plight. They know that people who do know often go back to their comfortable homes and forget about the children here and the things they've seen. Lord, please help me never to forget. Please help my heart to always break for the hurting. Please don't let me stand by and do nothing. Please always help me to act in Your love with Your strength.

Sweet Beads

Last week, I was asked to be a translator for a short term team to a children's home. That was mostly because I happened to be the only one available and I enjoy working with kids. However it happened I'm so thankful for the chance to get to be a part of the kids lives for a eight days. We packed our bags and drove the winding road to the middle of nowhere. It also happened to be (in my opinion) the prettiest place I've ever been to. We shared three squatty potties and one bucket shower with twenty four kids and five adults. We met sweet people who have chosen to love these children and work for their freedom. We were blessed by the stories of how the Lord has been working. We were amazed by the children's hard work and skills. We were honored to get to love on them and share in their life.

Early in the week I noticed two boys that I was sure were brothers because their faces were so similar. I noticed the older boy because he had a gentle face and calm manner. He seemed different than the other older boys. It wasn't until later that it was pointed out to me that they also had the same face as one of the farmers who lived in a small shack next to the kitchen. The farmer was deaf and couldn't really communicate easily with others yet he had the same gentle and thoughtful manner as his son. The mom is nowhere to be found, I don't know what happened to her.

On the last night the girls that I had come with shared beads and string with the kids. We did a little lesson about colors and English words and then let the kids make necklaces. I watched the kids wondering how they would enjoy the activity. I thought maybe the girls would enjoy it but the boys would rush through. However, all the kids from the oldest to the youngest boys and girls all spent at least one hour creating masterpieces. They carefully chose each bead and strung them with care. Then the "mom" of the home came over and began to make a necklace with the kids. However, when I saw the sweet farmer dad come and start carefully creating his own jewelry my heart was softened. I realized that these adults who work so hard to create better futures for these kids came from backgrounds more humble than the kids. They've all had to fight to survive. It was the first time any of them had ever had beads and had the chance to make something of their very own. After a bit, the kitchen helper, who lives at the home with her three year old son, joined in the fun. At one point I caught the farmer's eye and he proudly showed me his string of beads and gave me a huge grin.

They don't have much, and what they do have they worked hard for. The kids have planted three large fields, two corn and one rice. They go to school everyday and then come home and work the fields, do homework, play sports, sing, or dance. They are full of life and energy. They really help each other. Several times the older boys would be holding the littlest boy as he slept during the evening worship time. It was beautiful to see the Lord's redeeming work in each of their lives. I pray that their futures are as bright as their smiles.

The Days

Lately I've had a line from an old song from JoDee Messina going through my head.

"These are the days you will remember for the rest of your life."

Thinking back to my students and the road we've journeyed together.

These are the days I remember:

*Drying their tears,
*Driving them to and from school because their mom was busy working and their dad couldn't be bothered,
*Buying them food because their mom was sick and had no money,
*Checking their foreheads for fever and praying with them when they were sick,
*Holding him as he cried after his dad's anger branded a red mark on his face,
*Driving him to the grocery store where his dad worked as a security guard because no one was home to let him in the house,
*Holding their hair out of their faces and rubbing their backs when they had to be sick,
*Sitting after school working on homework and work they weren't able to finish in class,
*Driving him home because he had his bicycle and it was so stormy and the roads were flooding,
*Carrying her through the rising flood water to get her back to her house,
*Taking her to get KFC for her birthday,
*Picking nits out of their hair for hours,
*Spending every spare moment of the day reviewing math facts and giving speed tests,
*Playing tag with them until my bare feet blistered,
*Visiting them in the hospital and bringing stickers,
*Playing bubble gum, bubble gum way too many times,
*Singing along with the one CD in the school van,
*Talking with their parents in the parking lot after school - reporting the good and the bad - hearing about their lives,
*Spending time with them on the weekend eating yogurt and ice cream just so they would know that someone cared,
*Talking with them about right and wrong and praying they'd make good choices,
*Standing in for their mom on Mother's Day,
*Eating lunch together,
*Sitting outside listening to your stories about wild animals,
*Reading Bible stories together...

The list of memories could go on and on.

Today I got to visit my students and it was sweet. I now have new memories of my now fourth grade boy seeing me and having his face light up and running to me to give me a hug. My precious girl proudly telling me "I no have anymore" pointing at her head and speaking about her lice. My boys asking, "Did you go help the kids yet? Are you finished?" Squeals and hugs and smiles. Their stories, speaking in English, holding my hand. How much I miss them. We've been through a lot together... ups and downs... tears and laughter... sickness and health. These kiddos hold a special place in my heart...they always will.

Hope

These children are precious, beautiful, of great value, and left alone in the world. They fight great odds. They fight a strong system, prejudice, hunger, and absolute poverty. Yet these boys are three of the lucky ones. They have a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. They have been redeemed at least for now. They will have to go back out into the system but hopefully they will arrive there prepared. Prepared with a skill that they can use to earn money to eat, to live. The others aren't so lucky. They sort through trash to find something of value, they collect used water bottles, they beg, they sell cigarettes, they are porters, they do anything they can to survive. Many are trafficked.

Thankfully, right now they don't know how harsh their world is. Although they do know much more than most of us. They are where they are because they were abandoned, because they were orphaned, or because their families gave them up because they can't provide for them. Some of them wandered the sand bank between their home country and the country of their residence with no one to look out for them. Their stories are all very similar.

In spite of this the hope in their eyes is bright. Their smile is contagious. The one on the left repeatedly ran into my open arms just looking for someone to cuddle him. The two boys on the right were fearless. Well, in a sense. We played a game which I really shouldn't admit to seeing as it is a bit dangerous but I couldn't let these kids down. They stood on a desk and I would spin them around the room. Well, some of them wouldn't wait for me to lift them off the desk. They would jump, flail really, into my arms before I spun them. The two the right would leap without looking to see if I was ready or would catch them. One even jumped while I still had the other in my arms. Thankfully, I caught him and held them both. I think they would have climbed onto the roof if I had let them.

 The little girl in this picture was the most pitiful child I think that I've ever seen. She wailed like she was all alone in the world. The first time I heard her crying she was coming towards our little group with tears and snot all down her face. She was covered in dirt with a tattered little white dress. And she wailed. I went to her but she turned away finding comfort only the arms of the girl in the yellow dress. She joined our game, the one where they jumped off the desk. But she would stand there looking terrified of falling off and like she was about to lose her balance. Yet, when I picked her up and twirled her her smile was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Each time when she would make her way onto the desk and gingerly wait her turn as soon as the spinning would begin I got the rarest smile. I've never seen so much hurt, distrust, and pain in the eyes of someone so young. The girl the yellow dress would hold the little girl and comfort her. I don't know if they were related, but she definitely has a heart of compassion.

My time there was short, too short. But the memory of them will remain. I will pray for their country, for their freedom, for their identify, for their faith, for their education, for their daily needs. I will pray that they never lose hope because that is all they really have.

May the words of the "Lady" remind you to do what you can in this fight.

                       “Please use your liberty to promote ours.”

*Currently the children are living in a home/school. They are loved there and are in much better conditions than they were previously. If you would like more information about that project please just let me know.

Rescued

(Dear Lucy and I...this picture has nothing to do with this story
except that we were there together)

Most times I think that I can live on my own, take care of myself, and that I'm fine. However, that was proved untrue today. I was driving my old roommate Lucy to get a smoothie on this super hot summer day when I suddenly saw a huge spider crawling up the by the steering wheel, right next to my leg. Anyone who knows much about me knows that I really truly dislike spiders. I'm quite afraid of them even. If they are small and I have a shoe I'm okay. However, when they are the size of a tennis ball and they are crawling ever nearer to your leg and you are in the middle of driving a hunk of metal I am not okay. All I could think was, "Get out, get out of the car before it touches you!" So I carrended towards the curb even hitting it with the front tire before I put the car in neutral and sprang out. My sweet friend was sitting there all the while going, "What, what!" Thinking that maybe the steering had gone out and I couldn't control the vehicle or that there was a fire in the engine. She was a little annoyed I think when I finally could utter the words, "Spider big spider." However, when she came around and saw the monster she understood why I freaked out. I am so thankful that we weren't driving on a major road or I probably would have crashed much worse than that.

We stood outside the car for probably about 15 minutes trying to find the wretched creature. People slowly drove by staring at the two strange girls who were staring at their parked car with all the doors wide open. Yet, typical for this neighborhood, no one stopped to see if we were okay. Lucy was brave and tried to find the thing. I, however, mostly paced around and made groaning noises. I flatly refused to get back in the car to drive the short distance remaining before we arrived at the restaurant. I told Lucy either we're both walking and leaving this car right here or you are driving and I'm walking. Now, this is especially funny since Lucy is 17 and doesn't have a driver's license. I don't mean that she doesn't have a Thai license, she doesn't have a license at all and hasn't practiced driving in 9 months. She finally agreed that she would drive as long as I was in the car with her. So I curled up in the passenger seat and focused on coaching her through driving our beast. She did an excellent job.

Once at the restaurant I relived the horror of the spider and we decided to get dinner so I would have time to calm down. I tried to determine if I knew every male that walked, rode, or drove by the window and if I could ask them to help me conquer this spider. As we walked back to the car I had to convince myself to be brave and get over the fear since we really didn't know if the spider was still in the car or not. I kept telling Lucy stare at my feet and look for the spider make sure that it isn't crawling over here. She was looking and I was trying to concentrate on driving, but I couldn't I kept looking for the spider too. After we had driven just a little ways from the restarant I saw it climbing up my door! I pulled over quickly (not hitting the curb this time) and told Lucy "I see it!" I hoped out again and Lucy came around to see. Sure enough the thing was sitting there behind the driver's seat. Then I did something quite shameful. I went back to the restaurant to ask for help from a high school freshman boy who had helped me take care of kids in the nursery at church. He walked to the car with me and took a swing at the spider with his shoe. However, the spider did his disappearing act and didn't resurface. We said thanks to the boy and let him get back to his drink at the restaurant. Then we looked at each other. We couldn't get in the car since he was still in there. We couldn't go anywhere. We couldn't get him out. We were feeling quite defeated.

Enter...our heroes. We had stopped across the street from a dorm or a children's home of some sort. There was a woman sitting on the porch watching us. She came out and asked in Thai what was happening. I told her there was a very big spider. She said, "Oh you're scared? Foreigners are always scared of spiders." I told her yes I was definitely a foreigner who was very scared of spiders. I told her where I had last seen the monster and she called to her house full of children to come and help this lady who was freaking out about a spider. So out they came, in all I think about ten kids (there were more in the house) and this one older lady. They started searching in the car, pulling out rugs, moving the seats, and then they got a broom. I think they realized that this strange foreign woman was going to stand there all night unless the issue was resolved.

The woman told me that it wouldn't bite me. I wasn't so sure. She said that foreigners are scared of spiders because spiders bite in their country, but she hasn't ever heard of a spider biting someone in Thailand. I was reminded of how all Thai people are very afraid of caterpillars. Where I come from, kids play with them all the time, but here if they touch you it is extremely painful.

So after at least ten minutes of these boys searching my car one of them spotted it! He tried to catch it with his hands but the lady didn't want him to. After a bit of a struggle between boy and spider the boy eventually flung the spider out of the car. The sweet Thai lady stomped on the creature. Even they were quite surprised at how big the spider was. After we thanked them profusely they all trotted back to their house. I was so thankful to have the problem taken care of so we could go home in peace.

Moral of the story, I cannot take care of myself when it comes to spiders. I need a handful of boys to take care of that for me. I will always be so thankful that they noticed our distress and came and helped. This morning I was reading about loving your neighbor as yourself. They definitely were a pretty good example of that.