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. :)