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. :)