hasten the day, Lord

The day that my plane landed in America from Thailand two months ago was the day that my grandmother was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease.  Let me save you the trouble of google-ing it-- the disease is a slow breakdown of the central nervous system that steals away a person's voluntary motor functioning, such as walking and talking and swallowing.... until eventually, the chest cavity can no longer rise and fall to allow breath.

It is a terminal diagnosis.

I've been living with my grandma these past couple of months, partly because I planned to live with her anyway, and partly to help take care of her.  When I first moved in, she spoke with a bit of a slur and was weak, but could walk and pretty much function on her own.  Every day has shown a marked decline, and now, she can no longer walk and her speech is very difficult to understand.  This slow disease is taking over her mind and body not-so-slowly.

Every day, I mourn.

But I mourn for more than just my grandmother.  Being with her day in and day out only confirms a feeling that I have felt in my spirit for a long time now--

this is not how it was meant to be....... 

"it," meaning life.  The life and the world that God created for us-- the one that he called exceedingly good.  The one where there was nothing but righteousness, full of beauty and OUGHTness.  Honestly, even though I yearn for it, and there is this recognition deep in my heart for it, I cant even imagine such a day.  Watching a body being broken by disease only reminds me of the equal un-ought-ness of broken relationships, broken hearts, broken people...

And it makes me hate, hate, hate the thief that comes to steal and kill and destroy.

Every day, I mourn.

And then I remember this at the very end....

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away."  And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son. 

 And I pray, "hasten the day, Lord... in your mercy and kindness."  Not just for her, but for me... and for you, and for all of us.

All I can say is, I am learning to praise the Lord in truth for the hope of redemption that he gives to us.  A chance to be made new, a place that is as it ought to be, righteous souls, the communion of saints... beauty I cannot fathom.  Beauty I hope for.

2 questions

A couple of weeks ago, I visited a church in downtown Kansas City called Redeemer Fellowship.  I knew that I would be returning to the church as soon as I saw there was a banjo in the worship band... ;)  It turned out that I really enjoyed the teaching as well as the worship.  During the sermon, the preacher kind of made a side note about reading the Bible...  He said that someone once upon a time gave him this advice in his early Christian days-- on each page of Scripture, you should ask yourself these two questions:

1)  Who is in control?

2)  Is that good news?

Two simple questions with such deep, eternal implications.  I have found myself mulling these questions over in the past two weeks since visiting Redeemer, applying them not only to the pages of Scripture, but also to the pages of my life. 

The chapter that I am living out right now has been in such a constant state of flux and confusion.  During these page-days, pain is often great and understanding is often little.  Not very many things make sense to me right now, and it has been incredibly easy for me to forget the Lord's sovereignty.  Tonight, while reading through the book of Nehemiah, I was struck by how in control God was over it all, and what good news that was for the city of Jerusalem.

Praise the Lord for encouragement through His word.

Whether I can see it or feel it or not, the Lord is always in control of my story.  And that is very, very good news, because the way that the Father writes stories always ends so beautifully.

breathless expectation

I have been home from Thailand for exactly two weeks now.  Although I do miss many things and many people from Thailand, it feels good and right to be home.  The last year was a very challenging and growth-filled experience.  There were many times of confusion and uncertainty in which the Lord was my only comfort.  As a result, my faith was increased and I now feel much more certain of God than I did a year ago.  Certain of his love, his provision, and his sovereignty to accomplish his will.  Ironically, though, I am much LESS certain than I thought I would be of how the events of my life will actually play out.

Although I have some ideas about where and how to serve the Lord in the future, the immediate season of my life is still extremely uncertain.  In the last fourteen days, I have slept in 8 different places.  I do not know where I will live, where I will work, or how I will get to work once I (hopefully) secure a job. 

But as stressful as that sounds, I have actually felt unbelievably peaceful.  In the same way that the Lord assured me of his plan and purpose in my life when I first moved to Thailand, he has been faithful to grant me that same peace during this transition back as well. 

Oswald Chambers has helped me to gain this perspective:

To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, we do not know what a day may bring forth. This is generally said with a sigh of sadness, it should be rather an expression of breathless expectation. We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God. Immediately we abandon to God, and do the duty that lies nearest, He packs our life with surprises all the time. When we become advocates of a creed, something dies; we do not believe God, we only believe our belief about Him. Jesus said, "Except ye become as little children." Spiritual life is the life of a child. We are not uncertain of God, but uncertain of what He is going to do next. If we are only certain in our beliefs, we get dignified and severe and have the ban of finality about our views; but when we are rightly related to God, life is full of spontaneous, joyful uncertainty and expectancy.

My Father in heaven has promised me good.  He has invited me to take part in his story of redemption.  I trust him at his word.  I trust his plan.  I trust his provision.  I trust his power to accomplish his will, even though I have no idea what any of it will look like.  And I endeavor each day to continue seeking, continue trusting, and and to do the duty that lies nearest, with breathless expectation of whatever God will teach me, wherever he will lead me.

How great and how good is the Master we serve!  In his love alone do I rest and hope.

no more ardent wish

I first heard this spoken word, originally written by Henri Boudin, in a sermon by my friend Natalie Graf in 2009.  I was reminded of the excerpt again in November of last year listening to the same sermon online.  Since re-hearing it in November, I have read through, prayed through, and learned from these beautiful words.  I have listened to Natalie's voice and transcribed the words into my journal over and over, trying to soak in the wisdom of them.  I think that it captures the essence of what the Lord has been trying to teach me during this season in Thailand, and I thought they were too good not to share with you all.

"What an honor, and how glorious it is, to be in the service of so Great, so Good a Master.  The condition of the least of His servants is incomparably greater than that of the kings of the earth.  For their greatness and prosperity finish with their lives, but the servants of God finish with their lives the pains and trials they've had to suffer in his service.  And after that, they find an eternal happiness and immortal crowns awaiting them.  It is then reasonable what the royal prophet assures us: that one day they spend in His house and in His service is better than a thousand days spent elsewhere.

It is true that all men esteem and love to be great.  They do not think wherein the true greatness lies... They deem it to be a great honor to be in the service of royalty.  They pay heavy sums to be deemed the head of the firm.  But they take little pains to be a servant of God-- and what is more grievous, often blush at the idea of fulfilling their duties of His service.

Happy are the Christians who feel the honor and acknowledge the grace which God has bestowed upon them when he has received them as his servants.  Oh! What a Good Master we have!  How magnificent are His promises!  How faithful He is to carry them out!  How liberal are His rewards!  If all men knew what it was to be a servant of God, they would have no more ardent wish or aspire to a higher honor than to be reckoned among the number of His faithful servants.

Oh Lord, my heart is filled with bitter grief when I call to mind the years of my past life... Alas!  Far from having employed them in Thy service, I am one of those unfaithful servants who have had my own self-interest in view.  However, because you are my Lord and King, I this day take an oath of allegiance and from henceforth swear that my wish is to live and to die in Thy service.

Thine be the glory and the honor and the power forever and ever.  Amen."

If all men knew... they would have no more ardent wish?  Wow.  I don't know about you, but in mulling this over, God has gently shown me plenty of things that I wish for much more ardently than Himself.  It is humbling.  Convicting.  Overwhelming to realize that it was not the Lord I wanted all along, but only what he gave to me.  Alas!  I am one of those unfaithful servants.

Praise God, praise God, PRAISE GOD! for grace. For undeserved love and kindness.  For forgiveness.  Praise be to God for the honor of servanthood.

Oswald and life lessons

A couple of weeks ago, Oswald Chambers (author of My Utmost for His Highest) suggested that I look back to what I was doing and learning this time last year, so that I could compare and see how far the Lord has brought me.  I have been a journaler for quite some time now, so I dug back two journals ago to see what I prayed during the last week of March.

Lo and behold, the only entry from that week: brief sermon notes from Dana Bruxvoort's sermon on Romans 8, followed by a lengthy prayer begging for the Lord to wake me up.  In looking back and rereading my words, I can see clearly the deadness I felt in my heart and haziness I felt in my soul for so long... I longed to love as the Lord instructs us to love, to wake up and LIVE how the Lord desires us to live.  The wisdom Dana shared was an important step among many in my journey to really come awake-- which, incidentally, was the inspiration for the name of this blog. 

I was glad Oswald suggested I look back, because it made the week into a very good one.  Like an Indian summer-- a week of warm in the midst of cold.  A week of joy and right-ness in the midst of many weeks of pain and confusion.


After I re-read the notes on Dana's sermon, I wrote the following entry into my current journal.  It is in the voice of the Lord, speaking His truth to me.  It is nothing super-revelatory.  It is pretty much regurgitated verses-- verses that have shaped me in the last year:

"He who loses his life for my sake will find it.  But look!  I am doing a new thing.  Do you not perceive it?  It is rising up with the dawn.  The first shall be last and the last shall be first.  Seek first my kingdom and all of these things will be given to you as well.  No eye has seen and no ear has heard how absolutely good are the things that I am preparing for those who love me.  I am the Good Shepherd.  My sheep hear my voice and they listen to me.  They go in and out by the gate and find pasture.  I go before them, laying my life down for the sheep."

I know that I am not wise.  But I think that if there is one paramount lesson of the Gospel of Jesus, it is this:  God does not work in ways reasonable to man.  The economy of the Kingdom of Heaven is GRACE and WONDER, not some Earthly system that is based only on the safe or the explicable.  The Gospel is paradox, and God's love is completely nonsensical.

My faith has been, and I believe it will always continue to be, a never-ending confession of how utterly mysterious the Lord is.  I confess that there is much I do not understand.  All I know is that, as Oswald so kindly pointed out, I continue to be changed.

Here is a Seryn song for you, called "We Will All be Changed."  It is about life lessons.  "We can shape but can't control these possibilities to grow, weeds amongst the push and pull, waiting on the wind to take us..."

If you have not done so in awhile, I suggest a quick look back at the past to see how far the Lord has brought you, and how far he wishes to take you in the future.

life will leave you thirsty

As a freshman at Truman State, I slowly but surely got involved in a group called Campus Christian Fellowship.  At first, it seemed kind of big and annoying, but I kept finding myself drawn back.  And by spring, I felt comfortable enough with the group of 300+ to head to Georgia on a week-long Spring Break service trip.

There are these faith-moments in which I can recall being in the presence of the Holy.  God steps into time, and time stops...  The Spirit invades the heart, and the heart stops, but beats all the harder.  I'm drowning, but I'm breathing.  Times when the Lord comes down, and the earth melts...

The experience of God.  The infiltrating of the Spirit.  An encounter with Jesus Himself.

That freshman spring break trip, Thursday night, worship after the speaker.  We sang out this song together, written by Chase Carlisle, a college acquaintance of mine: "Holy God, wash over us with swells of mercy, a cleansing flood.  Healing Water, bring life again, freeing hearts from the chains of sin..."

All went black and all went bright.  My voice faltered and my hands raised.  Tears fell down and my gaze turned upward.  I could not have told you then why the lyrics spoke to me so deeply, why the melody stripped me bare and clothed me new in a room full of people.  But somehow, and for some reason beyond my control, I felt like I was standing, breathing, washed in the very Spirit of God-- known deeply, loved purely, forgiven endlessly.

Even now, as I recount the instance, I still marvel at it.  But, I think I finally have an explanation for my response.  And it comes from the story of the woman at the well.

John chapter 4.  Jesus is traveling.  But he takes a less-traveled route-- goes out of his way, to meet up with a woman who comes alone to draw water from Jacob's well at noonday.  It is no accident. It is a pursuit.  He asks the woman for a drink... and in doing so, makes this statement: I view you as someone I am not afraid to touch.  He offers to give her living water.  That's give-- not barter, trade, force, demand.  But give.  The woman realizes during the course of the conversation that Jesus is there to offer her something better than what she came to get for herself.

But Jesus does something strange.  He says to her, "bring back your husband,"  knowing that she does not have one.  In fact, knowing that she has had five husbands, and is now living with a man she is not married to.  Just as the woman was leaning in, Jesus digs deep into the flesh and touches the most painful nerve.  The nerve of her thirst.  The thirst she has sought to satisfy her entire life, but has not been able to quench.  When Jesus touches the nerve, he exposes the raw and painful truth:

Life will leave you thirsty.

But Jesus does not just drag up the pain.  He also reveals himself to her... "I AM HE."  The Messiah.  The Truth-giver.  The thirst-quencher.  And the woman, all alone at the well, stops. in. her. tracks.  She sets the water jug down-- the thing that represents her ongoing thirst.  In realizing that her life has left her very thirsty indeed, she chooses to embrace the reality of who Jesus is and what he is offering her.

I imagine that the earth melted around her.  Somehow, and for some reason beyond her control, she found herself standing, breathing, washed in the very Spirit of God-- known deeply, loved purely, forgiven endlessly.

When I studied this story recently, I thought of that Thursday night in Georgia.  At the age of only 18, life had left me thirsty.  So thirsty.  I had tried in vain to quench my own thirst by gratifying the desires of the flesh.  I still try in vain...  But that night, to the voices of the Shachner sisters singing, in a room filled with worshiping hearts, Jesus went out of his way to meet me.  To reveal himself to me.

I could feel my thirst like never before, and as soon as I felt it, Healing Water washed over me.  With swells of mercy.  A cleansing flood.  Life welled up within me, and my heart was freed from the chains of sin.

As a campus minster, I see thirsty lives all around me.  Young people just like myself, who are seeking the thing that will quench the deep-nerve, soul-thirst.  Trying to figure out what is good, what is right, what is healing, what is satisfying.  And THIS is what I rest in, rejoice in, hope in everyday:  Jesus pursues.  Jesus encounters.  Jesus reveals.  Jesus quenches.

the things I love

Fresh fruit.  All the time.  Pineapple, apples, strawberries, mango, papaya, pomelo, watermelon, oranges, bananas, mangosteen, guava...

The fruit lady, who always smiles, and who works way too hard for the living that she makes.  I hope that my very limited, non-verbal, daily interactions with her somehow bring light and cheer into her life.  Because she certainly makes my day every time I stop at her stand.

CHAA YEN.  Literally translated "tea cold."  Thai milk tea.  Orange.  Super sweet.  Super cheap.  Super delicious.  It has been my sustenance these many months, and I fully intend to replicate it in the States.

Butt sprayers in bathrooms... Yes, I know.  It sounds really weird.  And it took me quite awhile to come around to them myself.  But alas, I have come to deeply appreciate the convenience and freshness of a quick spray.  And, they double as the perfect weapon to fend off ants and spiders that may invade the bathroom.

Never having to guess what the weather will be like.  Hot.  Humid.  Possibility of showers in the afternoon or evening (...especially if we are having a Grapevine event).

Song thaew.  Literally translated "two rows."  It is a form of public transportation in Thailand-- a pick up truck with two rows of seating in the back, covered by a topper.  I love to drive/ride in vehicles with the windows down, and this is about as open-air as it gets.  It is so non-Amercian... I feel like I am on an adventure every time I ride one.

Cheap earrings.

Freedom from social expectation.  In Thailand, I can be whoever I want to be, dress however I want to dress, look and act however I want to look and act... and no one will think it is weird!  Because I am a farang, translated "foreigner," people already expect me to be different, and do not judge me for when I do actually behave differently.  This means I can dance and sing to Colors of the Wind in front of a large group of people without being embarrassed.  I can go running with my shirt tucked in and not feel like a nerd for doing so.  I can stop to take pictures anywhere I want (within reason), and people will just assume I am a tourist.  It is very freeing to not be bothered at all by what other people are going to think of me in social situations.

Thai massages.  Very cheap.  Very wonderful.

Being amused by everything.  I don't really know how to explain why, but everything cracks me up... everything from observing the relationship dynamic between our generous landlord and his crazy wife, to the dogs and cats and birds and lizards that live around our apartment building, to the fact that every building has a bajillion unnecessary security guards, to Thai music bumping in the taxi cabs, to the ridiculous cartoon charms that people wear on their belts, to the highly specialized shops that sell just pillows or just pens and pencils or just reed diffusers...  the list could go on and on.  I laugh to myself A LOT.

Living in such close proximity to my workplace.  Morning commute = walk downstairs.

My church.  Evangelical Church of Bangkok.  It is such a Spirit-filled, Truth-teaching, globally-minded place of worship.  I have been filled by fellowship with the congregation and the friends I have found there.

Yi sip haa baht.  Literally, "twenty five baht."  The name by which we fondly refer to the Thai food restaurant in our building-- actually named Aunt Boon's Restaurant, or something like that.  Just about every dish you can order is 25 baht (or at least it used to be until after the flood when they newly renovated the dining space, and prices increased to 30 baht).  That is about a dollar a plate for the best Thai food in Thailand.  We are blessed.

How just about every Grapevine event turns into either A) Disney karaoke, or B) a dance party.

And so much more....  Be expecting further installments as I get closer and closer to leaving...

looking up

Dear reader,

Sorry I've been gone for so long.  Maybe you noticed?  Maybe not... I'm not even so sure that very many people read my blog.  I think of this weird cyberspace as more of a personal letter to a few people who I would tell these things to anyway, but distance and time zones and busy lives make it hard to communicate.  But I have missed it, blogging.  During my time in here in Thailand, I have found joy in sharing my thoughts and feelings with you (all 2 of you) here.

There is something life-giving about transparency and vulnerability.  And that is just what I am looking for-- life.

The reason for my absence?  I have been unwell.  Not physically.  But emotionally.  Spiritually.  I have had trouble understanding the Lord lately... and it has left me scrambling for some semblance of peace and security to rest in.  Many days for my heart are hard and long, and the fight to control my thoughts saps all my heart-strength.

But I am on my way up...

"He who did not spare His Son, but gave him up for us all-- how will He not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?"  -Romans 8:32

because of the Son.  Because Jesus is where I am finding peace and security and rest.  And I do not mean to say I rest in what Jesus has to offer, but in Jesus himself.  And how will the Father not also-- because of His goodness-- take care of all else?  Supply all else.  Give all else.

I have been listening to this song lately that my friend Aubrey shared with me: "Come on my soul, let down the walls, and sing, my soul, it's time to look up."  Simple lyrics, but so beautifully captivating... alluring... drawing me closer to Truth.  The more I listen to this song, the more I can feel my soul being coaxed into the light.  Into the Son, that is.

I think that much of my confusion and unwell-ness lately has come from looking back-- or forward, for that matter-- when all that is necessary is to look up.

Another source of encouragement has come from this blog post by my dear friend Dana:  "I’ve been asking the Lord to uproot and untangle the mess of thoughts and hopes that is my head and my heart – to take his Masterful hands and loosen, free and clean up every root that’s grasping to stay in its place. I want to stop digging my roots into the old, dried, cracked soil so that He can replant me in the fertile, nutrient-rich soil that will allow this plant to grow and thrive…to spread out its roots by the stream, fed by the Living Water. But to do this, it’s time to stop looking back."

It's time to start looking up.

a breath of fresh air

For Dana.

I remember back the to very first week that I was in Thailand-- heart broken, confused, and dreading the year to come.  I had no idea why I was here... couldn't I just as easily have done something "less risky" in the States?  Dana was my go-to girl.  Her daily emails of encouragement gave me the strength to keep going.  Her wisdom was the wisdom of God, and He used it to teach me and heal me.  Her company here these past five months has been none other than the ministry of the Spirit to me.  During the flood, when I had no idea where I would sleep each night or what to do each day, her hospitality gave me life and joy.  I will forever think of her when I eat dark chocolate, and I have her to thank for my love of Thai rice cakes.

I feel infinitely more comfortable in my surroundings now than that first week, but I still could not tell you exactly why God brought me to Thailand in the cut-and-dry-answer sort of way... but I do know that God has me exactly where he wants me.  This adventure was the Lord's plan, not simply my own choice.  How could I not believe that this was His will for me, when he sent me such a friend-- such a blessing-- as Dana?  The timing, the lessons learned, the moments shared, the friendship deepened, the miles run... It is all just too good for it not to have been the hand of the Lord.

And if I cannot see the big picture of my own life, I certainly do not understand the big picture of Dana's life.  But I am confident of one reason for Dana's five months in this country:  to be a breath of fresh air for me.  If that was the reason Dana was sent here.. goodness gracious, was the Lord's will ever accomplished!  She gave me a glimpse of good living when my heart was burdened.  She showed me the Living God when I had forgotten to look for Him.

I don't think I ever would have made it this long without her.  Good thing the Lord knew that.  :)

my first visit to Pattaya.

on the beach in Krabi.

sunset dinner on the beach.

trekking in the jungle.

nothing says "spiritual retreat" like Starbucks.

new years in BKK.

half marathon in BKK.

together in Phuket.

"Go out into this world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society.  Provide people with a glimpse of good living, and of the Living God."  -Philippians 2:15

into marvelous light, I'm running

When I was in high school, I was on the track and field team for one season.  I was never any good at sports, and track was the only sport at my school that did not hold try-outs to be on the team.  I did not really want to be on the team because I like competition, but because in high school, all you want (all I wanted) was to feel a sense of belonging to something.  I wanted to wear the team jersey on game day, and feel like I fit in... like I was important to someone. 

And besides that, I was not exactly healthy (read: skinny) in high school, and I hoped that sports would make me look and feel how I always imagined myself looking and feeling.  So, I decided to run track.  I remember my very first day of practice... we had to run half a mile just to "warm up."  I thought I was going to die.  With each revolution around the track during practice, my face got redder and redder, my breathing got more and more difficult, and my confidence sank lower and lower.  I looked for shortcuts (there are none around a track), and I tried as hard as possible to stay out of my coach's line of sight.  I hated practice-- it felt like torture.  But I also loved practice because I got to spend it with my teammates-- it felt like I belonged.

The first track meet rolled around.  Lugoff-Elgin High School.  My first event was the 800 meter race.  That is half a mile.  Just two laps around a track.  I was nervous, but excited.  I was in the second heat, so I thought maybe I would do okay.

Toes to the start.  A loud bang.  Legs pumping hard.  Chest heaving.

During the first lap, I struggled to stay at the back of the pack... but at least I was with them.  I was doing it!  But during the second lap, the ground under me seemed to stretch out beneath my feet, and the pack of runners slipped further and further ahead.  I was dead last.  Way behind the rest.

I could feel my cheeks red hot-- both from effort and embarrassment.  Then I made a decision that I wish I had not...  About half-way around my second lap, I quit.  I let my body crumble to the ground as if I had passed out, and I lay there under everyone's eyes wishing I had never even tried.

People rushed around, asked me questions, helped me up.  The crowd cheered a little when I walked off the track.  But it did not feel good.  I was not proud that I had given up.  I did not feel... like me.  I felt like some shameful, not-really-living version of myself.

And that was my problem for so long... I was not really living.  Track season went on (I switched to throwing shot-put and discus after this incident) and eventually finished.  High School went on and eventually finished also.  And it was not until sometime during my third year of college that I realized:  life will go on... and eventually finish.

Do I really want to be someone who spends life not really living?  Being and feeling... not like me?

My answer then, and my answer now, is No..  I refuse to be anything less than passionate.  I refuse to be anything less than fully awake, really alive.  I refuse to be anyone less than myself.

But that kind of life-altering mind change does not come easy, and it does not come without help from some kind, patient, encouraging people.  And that is why I am writing.  Because I want to recognize some of the people who have believed in me, who have encouraged me... who have helped me come awake to a fuller life.

Thank you, Jeremey Wilson, Millie Agrawal, and Shawndele 'Stank' Danzy for encouraging me through those high school track practices and making me feel like part of the team.

Thank you, Mrs. Erin Taylor, who when I told you I always wanted to be a runner on that youth group ski trip-- you did not laugh or scoff.  You believed I could, just as much as you believed in any of the skinny girls.

Thank you to my college roommate Mandy Love, who encouraged me more than you ever know by just telling me that I smell sweaty after a run.  And thanks for letting me borrow so much of your running gear. :) I remember freshman year when I had run half a mile on a tread mill and you were proud of me and you made me feel accomplished, even though you had run 6 miles that day.  I never felt belittled even though you are way better than me.  Only encouragement pours out of you.

Alpha Sigma Gamma 5k.

Thank you to the Goodman family, and all of my crazy friends who made Red Flannel run such a fun race experience.  Kathleen, your love, your passion, and your family inspire me even now to run with more perseverance the race marked out for me-- more perseverance towards the full life.  Krista, Josh, Meegs, Nat, Claire and everyone else... your love and friendship made Red Flannel one of my favorite college memories.  I will forever think nostalgically of red body paint and tighty-whities.  That first year might have been the first time I had ever run 3 consecutive miles in my life.

First and second Red Flannel Run.

Thank you, Angie Whitlatch-Seals and Katie Hamilton-Jolliffe for training with me for my first half marathon.  I would not-- could not-- have done it without your accountability and support, and that is the truth.  Each long run was a new lifetime accomplishment, and you two will forever be a part of that in my heart.

Rock the Parkway.  My first half marathon.

Thank you, Meegan, for finishing up the last of those eleven miles with me on that cold Kirksville day.  When I had no strength left, you gave me more.  You have shown me Jesus in so many ways, but that day is one of the most special to me.

Thank you, Matt and Tony and my other Haliburton boys for making me feel honored.  Sometimes, I still think of myself as that girl who cant even make it around the second lap, so thank you for inviting me to race with you.  Being counted worthy to do so means so much to me and reminds me how far I have come.

Kirksville Twilight Run 5k

Thank you, Dana Bruxvoort.  You have enriched my life here in Thailand in so many ways, and peer-pressuring me into the Bangkok half marathon was one them.  You know I would not have done it without you.  You, my friend, push me towards the goal set before us with the love of a sister.  Together forever. :)

Bangkok Half Marathon.

And thank you to my future FULL marathon running buddies-- Michelle Curtright and Aubrey Balk (right guys?!....).  26.2 awaits us, ladies.  Passion awaits.  The full life awaits.  Let's live it.

It feels very different now than when I was in high school to place my toes at the start line.  There is a loud bang.  Legs pump in rhythm to the heart beat.  Lungs fill deeply and let out slow.  I cannot tell you how good it feels to look 13.1 miles into the distance and say to yourself "bring me the horizon." 

I cannot tell you how wonderful it feels to look into the future and say to yourself "go live."

let's take a trip

Last weekend, I headed up to Chiang Mai to see my lawyer for my Visa extension-- not exactly a short trip.  Chiang Mai is a 12 hour bus ride from Bangkok--or, for the adventurous such as myself, a 15 hour train ride.  I have decided to chronicle my journey here, in case any of you are interested what it is like to travel alone in a Southeast Asian country.

(Okay, okay.. the 'chronicling' is more for myself than for you, but I do hope you enjoy it!)

So, let's take a trip to Chiang Mai!

First step, acquire a train ticket.  The whole reason to take the train over the bus is because you can actually sleep on the train.  And because it is fun to pretend that you are on the Hogwart's express... but maybe that's just me.  However, by the time I arrived at the train station in downtown Bangkok (which is a 'trip' in and of itself), all of the sleeper tickets were gone, and only seating tickets on the later train were left.

Sitting (overnight, mind you) for 15 hours next to someone I do not know in a non-air-conditioned train car???  I don't think so.... not this girl.  I might as well take the bus.  I might get terribly motion sick, but at least it is air-conditioned.

Just as I was about to leave the train station to head for the bus station with my new Spanish lady friend named Olga (we met while waiting in line), we were approached by a smooth-talking (read: creepy) German man who said that he could get us tickets on the sleeper train.  I was not really interested in his help, especially after he divulged to us that he was a "trader of sorts."  Sorts, I'm sure, really meaning drugs, weapons, or people-- neither of which I would like to be involved in...  especially the last one.

But alas!  Thanks to the German guy, within 5 minutes, Olga and I were offered tickets on the sleeper train that we had just been told was sold out.  And the price was not even marked up!  So we took them.

Risky?  Eh... maybe.

Okay, I'm not gonna lie.  I was kind of paranoid the whole time that the German "trader" was going to abduct me.  I was a little comforted, though, by the fact that Olga looked like she could take him.  Unless Olga worked for German guy... So I devised a back up plan to call my co-worker Beth and leave my phone in my pocket so that she could find me after the abduction.  (Beth is related to Chuck Norris.)  Yep.  Fool proof.

So I was off!

Here is what a sleeper train car looks like....

S-KETCH-yyyy.  I know.  It totally looks like something out of a horror film.  But that is probably only because it was night time... and because Olga and I were the ONLY two people in this train car.  Us and the German trader, of course.  (I dont know, but something tells me that the train people were not supposed to sell us those tickets...)

But once the train started moving and I climbed into my little bunk and closed the curtain, this odd situation did not seem so scary anymore.

The beds on the sleeper train are actually pretty comfy-- softer than the bed in my apartment!  And the loud drone of the train moving along the tracks coupled with a good book put me right to sleep.  Next (conscious) stop for Gracie-Grace, Chiang Mai.

And whaddaya know... I did not get abducted, and I woke up with all of my organs and belongings.

So, I met with my lawyer.  Signed a bajillion papers.  Went with her assistant to Immigration.  Enjoyed a latte during my stress-free wait.  And then we were done!  I still had a few hours left before I needed to be at the train station to catch the night train back to Bangkok, so I headed to the mall in search of this....

Obviously, I found it.  And ate it.  Thank you, supporters, for this delicious cheese pizza.  It is not something I splurge on often, but I figured after my near-abduction experience, it was well warranted.  ;)

After pizza, it was back to the train station.  When I left the mall, I got into a song thaew headed to the train station with this Australian man (who only had one arm) and his wife.  It turned out that we were on the same train to Bangkok.  The mall was less than 5 miles away from the train station.  We left the mall more than an hour before the train was supposed to depart.  Our song thaew got stuck in traffic.

5 miles + 1 hour of traffic = 3 farang (white people) who missed their train.

Dannnnnng it.  The tickets were non-refundable, and the only other train to Bangkok that night was a seating-only, non-air conditioned train.  Really?? Will I be reduced to the bus yet again?

Oh!  But how convenient... the song thaew driver is willing to drive us to the next train station... for 500 baht (about $16 USD) a piece.  That is suspiciously just-barely-cheaper than a bus or train ticket.  Well, we have no other option at this point, and if we deliberate too long, catching the train will no longer be an option.  So we (very begrudgingly) take the song thaew to the next train station.

It sucked to spend the extra money, but at least we got to enjoy this sunset on the ride...

AND, since I was stuck with this Australian couple in the song thaew for another hour-and-a-half, I got a chance to ask the man why he only had one arm.  He said he grew up in the Outback and it got bitten off by crocodile when he was a kid.

I was like NO way!!  Beth and I were just talking about how we wished we had some awesome injury like that so that we could tell other people about it!

But he was just kidding.  His dad ran him over with a lawn mower.  By accident, of course.  But he was too young to remember it anyway.  They were a lovely couple.

Well, we did indeed arrive at the next train station with plenty of time to catch the train headed to Bangkok.  And it turned out there was a night market just around the corner from the station.  I love market food (chicken kebabs and mango with sticky rice), so it was a win-win situation... except for the extra 500 baht, that is.

Nestled in a sleeper train top bunk for the second night in a row, I fell asleep to the end of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility, and the loud but comforting rattle of the train down the tracks towards home.

Nine hours later, morning is ushered in on the train with not-so-delicious instant coffee, and the bunk beds being folded down into seats.  I spent the last hour of my trip staring out the window at the beautiful green rice fields of central Thailand, watching as the dense fog, thick as clouds, curled upwards into the balmy sky.

Then home again.  Then shower.  Then sleep.

Thanks for coming along for the ride. :)

no one should be for sale

Dear friends,

I am an abolitionist.  Yes, I am also a campus minister.  Yes, I am young and have very little idea of what career path I might take.  No, I do not have a law degree, nor am I a politician.  No, I have never stormed a sweatshop or a brothel and set the captives free.  But I am certain of one thing:  from here on out, I will never again be someone who does nothing about the 27 million people who are slaves in the world today.  And that is what makes me an abolitionist.

27 million is no small number.

I am new to this abolitionist thing... My first step is to gather information-- to educate myself and others.  I recently heard of a video contest on Facebook hosted by "Not For Sale."  The winner of the contest will be sent to a global forum on human trafficking.  I decided to enter the contest...

and that is where YOU come in.

If you have a Facebook account, I need you to vote for my video at <http://apps.facebook.com/whcontests/i-am-an-abolitionist>.  My video is entitled "No one should be for sale."  (Not to be confused with "Because no one should be for sale.")  It is not the greatest video, but I hope that you (and others) will see the honesty of my heart in it.  You can vote up to 10 times a day, now through midnight on January 30th.  Just press vote 10 times in a row!

Even if you do not vote, and even I do not win the contest, I still urge you to do your own research and allow your own heart to be changed by what you learn.

But I would appreciate it if you did vote.  :)

it must have been worth the risk

I do not claim to be wise.  I am by no means a theologian.  But I do have faith, and that faith sometimes brings me to difficult places.  There are things about God and his plan that I just do not understand.  There are parts of the Bible that do not make sense to me.  At times, it is very hard to trust who I know God to be.

Let me be really vulnerable and honest with you...  I confess that it has been hard lately for me to trust that God is all good.

As I lean in closer and closer to the Lord, I lose more and more control over my own life.  He asks for it from me, and I cannot help but give it to him.  It is freeing, yes, in the times when my soul is sure of God's absolute goodness.  But in the times when suffering is great and understanding is little, it is terrifying to continue to lean closer still, handing over my heart and my desires.  I find myself shrinking back, withdrawing my hand from the Lord's, afraid to continue walking with him-- because what if God is taking me somewhere I do not want to go?  What if God is leading me to suffering instead of peace?  Or, in other words:

What if God is not ALL good?

And there it is... the doubt of all doubts.  I think that this is a seed of deceit that Satan plants in our minds from infancy.  It might possibly be the most dangerous lie we could ever believe.  If we doubt that God is all good, we are doubting the very principle that lies at the core of creation and even God himself.  Let me show you what I mean:

God created the world.                                                    God created the world.
+ God is all good.                                        OR              + The world contains evil.
= Therefore, the world must be all good.                            = Therefore, God must not be all good.

See how easy it is for our intellect to poke holes in God's goodness?  Neither one of these logical equations yields a conclusion that is true.  God is all good, but the world does indeed contain evil-- these are contradictory statements, which makes God's absolute goodness a paradox.  This leaves me with a more complicated, much more assuming argument than either of the first:

God is all good, all powerful, all knowing.
+ God created free will, which is the agent by which evil exists in the world.
= Therefore, God must have considered it worth the risk of evil to grant the world free will.

It must have been worth the risk.  I do not pretend that this is the entire answer to the presence of evil in the world, but I do believe that it is part of it.  Maybe it makes me simple-minded, but it is often satisfactory-enough of an answer for me to find my trust and hope in the Lord once again.  Suffering, pain, confusion, and death are all a reality... But it is Satan who comes only to seal, kill, lie, and destroy.  God is the God of Truth who comes to give us life, and give it abundantly.  If God were not all good, his promises would mean nothing.  But his promises do mean something.  I can type those words easily, believing every single one of them in my heart.  Why is it so hard, then, to practice the ruthless trust of God's goodness in my life? 

Here is what I think:  even if we trust that God is all good, that does not mean that we will always be able to understand God's perfect will and his working in our life.  Ruthless trust of God's goodness does provide strength to continue believing the Lord, but it does not take away the inevitable lack of understanding that occurs when a finite being and an infinite God enter into relationship and walk side by side.

It is not God's will that we should suffer.  It is God's will that our lives are full of good things-- that is, full of him.  When God makes promises, we must trust that the fulfillment of that promise is worth the risk that there may be suffering and confusion along the way.  God is not deceitful.  He does not play games or tricks.  His word can be trusted because his "all-goodness" is true.  And when God promises good things, we can trust him to make good on that promise.

And so, I continue to lean in closer.  I look down and realize I never really drew my hand away from the Lord, because his right hand holds me fast.  I choose not to shrink back, but to stand in the light and allow it to wash over me.  I choose to continue believing in God's goodness.

This following Jesus thing is not easy.  Trusting God is at times very difficult.  But it is oh-so-worth the risk...

being made new, pt. 2

God is able to completely redeem and revive what is damaged and use it for his purpose and his glory.

This truth has been so comforting and so evident to me over the last month.   Here at Grapevine, we have been working hard to clean and restore this place back to working order.  It took many long days of hard work, but with diligent attention, we made it through.  We cleaned the floors, scrubbed the grout, washed and painted the walls, carried out armloads and armloads of trash, ordered new furniture, dusted, swept, mopped, and cleaned in any other capacity you can think of.

But it was joyful work.  It was very exciting to watch the transformation take place before our eyes.  It felt like I was on a CCF spring break trip, only for an extended period of time, and with way fewer people.  And, as it was during the month of December, we listened to Christmas music every day. :)

Here are some before and after shots for you...

we had to replace the molded game cabinet.

the kitchen floor.

the kitchen.  even though we raised it up, the refrigerator was still submerged at the bottom.

the main room.  check out that floor!

the office/movie room.  our new favorite place to be.

And as I said in part 1 of this blog about the restoration of Grapevine (being made new), it was not just the building of Grapevine that would be changing.  Our team lost another member, bringing us to only three.  And the Thammasat University semester was shaken up by the flood.  With a crazy schedule and fewer hands to distribute the work load, we had to re-think and re-design the way that we will do ministry this semester.  Since the flood forced us to miss some of our favorite holidays with the students, we decided we would celebrate them anyway!  This is going to be a semester of holidays-- Christmas and Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day, Mardis Gras and Easter... and of course, Halloween, which is not until March, but our students are already excited about.

I, too, am very excited for this semester.  God is teaching me many things, and I know he will do great things in me and through me for His Kingdom.  God is completely able to continue transforming this place, and the lives that the Grapevine student club has become a part of.

27 million.

That is the estimated number of people who are slaves in the world today.  Yes, slaves.

Human trafficking was something that I heard quite a bit about during my last couple of years at college.  I have lots of friends who are passionate about this serious social issue, and who are quick to share their hearts with others for the millions that are oppressed.  So, I cannot say that I was not aware that it existed before I came to Thailand...

But I can honestly say that it did not seem real to me.

And I confess that the main reason for my ignorance was because I chose to make it something small.

Maybe you can identify with me a little...  If I chose to perceive the issue as being far removed from my own life, I could listen to my friends on the subject with compassion, and still feel absolutely no responsibility or obligation whatsoever.  As long as the issue felt far away, it felt small.  And if the issue was small, how could it be that my clothes were stitched by slaves, my electronics were assembled by slaves, and in my city lived women and children who were forced into prostitution against their will?  No, no, no... A small issue certainly cannot be so pervasive...

But 27 million is no small number.

It is the entire state of Texas.  It is the entire country of Nepal.  It is almost 7 times the number of slaves that existed in America at the time of the Civil War.  It is about 3 times the number of the victims of the Holocaust.  It is more than 3 times the number of people that die from cancer each year.

Slavery is not legal in any country in the world.  And yet, modern day slavery is a $30+ billion a year criminal industry that stretches across every single national border.  Trafficked human beings can be found in every major city in the world.  This is no exaggeration, and this is no small issue.

Believe me, I understand that out of sight equals out of mind far too often for us humans.  I have heard all of my life that there are starving children in Africa, but it was not real to me until I saw it with my own eyes.  And it is not just children that are starving-- it is the parents and grandparents as well.  Entire families, entire communities, entire slums full of people.  The thing about global poverty, though, is that although it is huge and devastating, it is not invisible.  It is possible for poverty to be isolated and ignored, but it cannot truly be hidden.  The modern day slave trade, on the other hand, is not isolated, and thrives precisely because it is hidden.  Human trafficking lurks and lives in every shadow, just out of sight-- and most certainly out of mind.  It is like a pandemic, fatal disease that everyone has, but no one seems to have figured out the symptoms for.

The United States wages war against terrorism, war against drugs... but the "war against slavery" is considered long over to most Americans.   The too-little-known truth, though, is that there are slaves still, in places like San Fransisco, Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas City...  That was hard to swallow for me.

And who are these slaves, you may be wondering?

They are 13 year old girls from Thailand and Cambodia whose parents sell them to pimps so that they can feed the rest of the family.

They are entire families in India who are abducted under the pretense of false debt and forced to work long, brutal hours at brick kilns or carpet factories for no pay.

They are child soldiers in war-stricken Uganda, as young as 7 years old, who are forced to kill or to be killed, to rape or to be raped.

They are young European women who are tricked into traveling to distant countries under the lure of a good paying job, but instead are raped upon arrival and forced into prostitution.

They are the street children of South America, who have no other option than to become house servants, laborers, and sex slaves to the wealthy.

They are Chinese women brought to the Unites States, working 17- hour days at massage parlors, unable to speak the language, and unable to escape.

They are men.  They are women.  They are children.    They are oppressed.  They are powerless.

They are REAL.

During my past few months here in Thailand, human trafficking and the modern day slave trade has become real to me.  But I must emphasize my regret that it took being in Thailand for my eyes to be opened.  I could have just as easily chosen to see it in the United States.  Because although modern day slavery lies just below the threshold of sight, it only takes a scratch to be able to see in.  Much of my passion for this social atrocity was ignited when I happened upon a book called Not For Sale-- which does NOT require being in Thailand. You (yes, YOU) should buy it, read it, and share it with others.  This book paints a picture of the issue in a way that helped me realize the enormity of it, and it tells in harsh truth the reality of what slavery looks like today.

Also, due to an interesting series of events (which I believe to be none other than the hand of God in my life), I have been introduced to a ministry here in Bangkok called Nightlight which ministers to women who are forced into prostitution.  In my few nights of volunteering with them on outreach, I have seen first hand a portion of the faces that make up the 27 million.  They are real people, and the darkness that has them trapped is a real darkness.

I am sharing all of this with you here because it is something that the Lord is teaching me to be passionate about.  Knowing what I know now, I can't not do anything.  I can no longer choose not to see or to feel for these 27 million people.  I hope that you, also, will scratch at the surface and allow yourself to see what lies beneath.

the earth melts

Recently, someone asked me what I meant when I said that "God told me something."  She asked what it was like when I knew that something was God's presence and voice instead of my own thoughts and feelings.  I did not get a chance to answer her question fully right then (and honestly, I wasn't really sure what to say), but it left me thinking of it for quite some time.  How do I know when I have heard from the Lord or felt his presence?  Or at least, how do I describe that to someone else?

Later that day, someone shared a verse with me, and when I heard it, I knew that it was precisely the expression I had been looking for-- the words that describe exactly what my heart feels like when I find myself in the presence of God.

" There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

        the holy habitation of the Most High.
    God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
        God will help her when morning dawns.
    The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;
        he utters his voice, the earth melts.
    The LORD of hosts is with us;
        the God of Jacob is our fortress. "
(Psalm 46:4-7 ESV)

Out of tumult, confusion, chaos-- He utters his voice, the earth melts.  Simple, yet deeply profound. These words could have come straight from my own soul.  It reminds me of the story of Moses, when he unexpectedly meets the burning bush-- God's presence and voice-- and there is nothing else for him to do but take his sandals off because he is on holy ground.  I bet that Moses felt like the earth melted around him... like there was nothing else that existed but him and this beautiful, terrifying, Truth-filled voice that he heard resonating from his heart.  And the Lord speaks clearly and resolutely to Moses as one who is both his servant and his friend.  He shows Moses something wonderful that he is doing, then invites Moses to be an integral part of it.  The Lord then encourages Moses saying "I will be with you."

Goodness gracious. This is so beautiful to me.  It is so similar to the way that I experience God.  A burning bush comes out of nowhere, then instantaneously the earth melts.  It is these rare moments in which I am able to forget about myself long enough to see the living God, and He is gracious enough to speak to me, that my faith rests most upon.  It is not Scripture or knowledge or this great cloud of witnesses I am surrounded by, but the instances when the earth melts that have given me a real trust and a real relationship with my Savior.  Not to say those other things do not matter-- just to say that my personal encounters with the Lord breathe life into my faith more than anything else.

My dear friend Clive Staples says it way better than I could in his book Mere Christianity:

"The point is, God wants you to know Him: wants to give you Himself.  And He and you are two things of such a kind that if you really get into any kind of touch with Him you will, in fact, be humble-- delightedly humble, feeling the infinite relief of having for once got rid of all the silly nonsense about your own dignity which has made you restless and unhappy all your life.  He is trying to make you humble in order to make this moment possible: trying to take off a lot of silly ugly, fancy dress in which we have all got ourselves up and are strutting about like the little idiots we are.  I wish I had got a bit further with humility myself: if I had, I could probably tell you more about the relief, the comfort of taking the fancy dress off-- getting rid of the false self with all its posing and posturing.  To get even near it, even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a desert.

My experience of God, if even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water (or a burning bush) to a man in a desert.  There is nothing I can do but take my sandals off and drink it all in: Truth, peace, quietness, joy, astonishment, worship, relief, clarity, humility, and grace.

He utters his voice.  The earth melts.