Between Here and There

The sky slowly begins to dim and turn shades of blue until blue is black and black is as black can be.  We live on the edge of a small village in rural Northern Thailand and when evening comes the sky is brilliantly full of the shine from heaven – unless it’s rainy season, of course, and then the clouds block the brilliance from physical sight but not from imagination.

Cicadas hum for a long phrase and then stop.  Hum and stop.  Our dog returns home from his daytime adventures in the rice fields and plops himself on our front step.  He’s ready for his self-appointed nighttime duty of keeping watch.  A tukae lizard calls out.  Our neighbours are quiet and have either gone to bed – it IS seven thirty already – or are busy watching the new Thai soap opera series or Thailand’s The Voice.

Day is done.  Nighttime is coming.  I’m here in this middle space of neither here nor there.  

We are transitioning from our home in Thailand to my homeland of Canada.  My daughters claim they’re “not Thai but English” – this is where the language and culture and nationality lines blur.  I remind them gently that they are both Thai AND Canadian, despite their protests.  

It’s a hard concept to grasp and I feel confused about those blurring lines in my own identity.  I can never be fully Thai but I’m not the same Canadian who left thirteen years ago for the mission field.  Does it really matter though?  My true citizenship is in heaven, I know.  But between here and there, what does it look like to live? 

We dream of what life will be like in Canada.  We plan, we brainstorm, we pray, we hope and we eventually give it all over to God.  We submit and surrender what our future will look like.  

Like the brilliance beyond the obscuring clouds, the future holds something so beautiful that we can’t even begin to fathom it.  We trust and believe in His goodness to both clear the clouds and carry us through.  We surrender our wills for His which is better than we can ask or imagine.


“How long will you be gone?” my husband’s grandmother, Uay, asks days later in Northern Thai.  She pauses and wipes tears away from her eyes.  She wasn’t looking at me when she asked but we were sitting next to each other on the bamboo platform, watching my youngest twirl with delight in her “princess” dress.  Uay laughs as her great-granddaughter dances around, playing games with her shadow.  “About three years,” I reply.  She wipes her eyes again and she holds my hand as we sit in silence.  

Transitioning means leaving where you were in order to arrive somewhere else.  The bridge linking those two places, whether physical or cognitive, is complicated.  How can one cross while their partner lags behind?  How can one cross while the pull to remain is strong?  How can one cross while the crossing pains a loved one?  

My husband assures Uay that we will be able to video call her and that her son or one of her grandsons will certainly help.  “Oh, I’m not good at that kind of thing,” she says, brushing off the attempt to console the upcoming loss.  

The only way across is through one step at a time.  We don’t have to jump across, only to land in the water, but simply put one foot in front of the other and walk.  

“Let’s go inside,” Uay finally says, putting her cane in position to help her stand.  Slowly, we begin to walk together.

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When Plans Go Awry

Last Monday did not go as planned. What I expected as a simple trip to the border to get something specific done with my visa in my passport turned into a full-on migraine of a problem.

At the end of the day, we were returning home and we were all spent.

I said, “Well, THAT was not a very productive day. We’re no further along than when we left the house this morning!”

My husband said, “That’s not true!”

“Okay. Well, we learned what didn’t work.” My mind began to whirl with the knowledge that my husband was looking at this situation from an analytical point of view.  Once a scientist, always a scientist.

I went on. “We’ve learned what still needs to be done. We’ve learned that the process has changed from how it was previously and although the advice we were given may have been accurate at some point, it’s not accurate anymore…  Okay!,” I admitted,  “I see your point.”

My husband glanced over at me with a knowing look as we neared our driveway.  Our dog was at the gate, tail wagging with delight that we were finally home.

“We’ve learned quite a lot today.  And we HAVE made progress.  It’s just not the direction I had anticipated,” I ended.

No more needed to be said and we went into the house.  

Our youngest had fallen asleep on the way home and I carefully brought her inside and laid her on her bed.  I got our oldest showered and in pjs and together we went to the kitchen to have a little bit of mommy-daughter time – time which is usually shared with her two-year-old sister.  

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We got to work straight away on a puzzle, singing some Greatest Showman tunes and chitchatting about this and that.  Soon enough, the puzzle was taking shape and I turned what I had been working on and joined it with my daughter’s portion.  I continued working away on it upside down, which wasn’t as easy as I had thought it might be.  Looking that way at the map of Canada (which is what the picture was) was unfamiliar. And a new perspective.  I will admit that I’m not very knowledgeable of all the islands in Nunavat Territory.  Placing them in their proper spot while the puzzle was upside down from my perspective was not even a little easy.  

Later, after my oldest had gone to bed, I was looking at pictures of our puzzle time.  I realised that my shift in perspective had not been my preference but it was my choice.

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In the same way, my experiences from earlier in the day, as frustrating as they were, led me to reconsider what progress looked like.  Sometimes it looks like a path in one direction, but sometimes progress looks jagged and confused with fallen tree trunks blocking the path.  But no matter what the path looks like, I am still making progress.  I’m still learning along the way.  If I’m determined and persistent, I can still reach my goal even if my path takes me where I never thought I’d go.

But I had to choose to shift my perspective.

What’s your view like today?

The Perspective of Returning Home

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I recently looked back at some of my early blog posts, dating back a little over thirteen years ago. I was in the middle of preparing to go to the mission field and, as I read, I was reminded of the many ways that the Lord prepared the way for me. I was single, young, determined, adventurous, and possessed a heart full of faith to follow the Lord where He was calling me. Now, all these years later, I am married with two small children, not as young as I used to be, just as determined, more cautious than adventurous, but still with a heart ready to follow Jesus as He prompts me through His Spirit.

We are heading back “home” to Canada this coming August and I am unsure whether to call it home or not. My mom passed away last year and my dad twenty years before that. My sister and her family live two hours away from where we’ll plant ourselves, and many of my close friends now live scattered across Canada.

Someone asked me recently about what was waiting for us in Canada, assuming we had jobs lined up and a place to live. “Oh,” they replied when my response was negative towards both of those things, “so you’re just waiting on God to see where He’ll lead you?”

The unknowns in my present are just as intimidating as they were when I was anticipating moving to SE Asia. But the difference now is that I have almost thirteen years of experience of walking through unknowns, following the lamp that the Lord’s provided to show the path in front of me, and the regular discipline of reminding myself of what is true.

I know He is El-HaNe’-eman – “faithful God” (Deut. 7:9 ESV). He never changes and, despite circumstances around us being uncertain, He is unwavering in His character.

I know He is Eliezer – “my God is help” (Exodus 18:4 ESV) – and Ebenezer – “stone of help” (1 Samuel 7:12 ESV). I’ve experienced His provisions countless times and often in the most surprising ways. Like Samuel in 1 Samuel 7:12, I have set up various stones – some real, some in my journal, and some through a picture or other creative means – in my life as a way to honour the Lord and remember how He has moved to help me and others around me.

I know He is Immanuel – “God with us” (Isaiah 7:14, 8:8, and Matthew 1:23 ESV). This has been the biggest reason why I’ve been able to persevere in serving the Lord. I have never had to tackle any task, assignment, follow-up visit, language and culture lesson, visa trip, immigration question, sickness, home assignment, dangerous road, sermon or annual reunion conference by myself. He has always been with me and will always be with me. Despite Satan’s attempts to convince me otherwise, I was never alone in that village in the wooden house, never forgotten in that mountainous assignment, never left behind when my husband went off to work and I was home alone with our children. His presence has satisfied my soul, calmed my anxieties and empowered my heart.

So, I anticipate returning home with great expectations of the Lord to remain the same. I know He will lead us through new challenges and adventures, He will provide exactly what we need (and sometimes what we may think we want) and when we need it, and He will remind me that He is with us and will continue to be with us through it all.

Home has changed. And I’ve changed too. I don’t know what home even really means anymore except for it to be the place where God invites me to be, too.

If you’re returning home for the summer or for longer, which testimonies of God’s goodness is the Holy Spirit reminding you of so your soul may be strengthened?

Where Are You on the Writing Path?

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Over thirteen year ago, I began writing my blog a couple of months before I left to serve cross-culturally in Thailand.  I had wanted a place to share my thoughts, my struggles and my victories while I served in a new culture, language and country.  It’s fun to look back now and remember the situations and people I encountered and how the Lord sustained me through it all.

After a long hiatus from blogging, I made a commitment to began to write again in April and I joined an amazing community of faith-filled writers called Hope*Writers.  Through access to their online learning library, which is updated on a regular basis, and the support of the staff and community of Hope*writers on their Facebook group page, I know where I’m at in my writing journey, and how to get to where I’m dreaming to go.  I am inspired to write again and it feels like fresh air!

I’m excited to think through how the Lord might use me and my journey – my failures and successes – to encourage other women to be involved in serving God and living missionally both cross-culturally and in their own backyard, so to speak.

Hope*Writers only opens up access to join their writing and learning community a couple of times a year and next week (May 21-25) is one of those opportunities to join!

Whether you’ve thought about starting to write a blog (or start writing on it again), have an idea for a book or maybe even have published a book but you’re still interested in learning and growing as a writer, Hope*Writers is for you!

Give this short, fun quiz a try to learn where you are on the writing path and know your next step is.

This is an affiliate link but I promise I won’t ever recommend something unless I’ve tried it before and have determined it to be helpful, inspiring or both.

Looking forward to journeying with you!

Accepting a Slice of Chaos

A few weeks ago, I entered the kitchen to get a cup of milk for each of my two young daughters.  They were waiting for me in their beds, nearly ready to sleep for the night – or so I was hoping.  Suddenly, I noticed some movement on the white tiled counter.  Ants.  And not just a couple of them but a long trail of busy, black ants.  I followed their path over to the far side of the kitchen where they were disappearing into a tiny hole in the counter.  I stepped back and decided to return to my original task of the cups of milk.  The ants would have to wait until tomorrow for me to deal with them.

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In every house I’ve called home in Thailand, there have always been ant problems.  For this reason, we (initially my roommates and I, but now my husband and I and our children) have always limited any food to the dining room and the kitchen.  The ants don’t need us to generously bring them crumbs and spills to other areas of our house – they’ll go there on their own anyhow!  We also need to have our house helper or a friend keep an eye out for ant invasions when we go away for vacation or return to Canada for Home Assignment.  Ants like unlived spaces even more than places invaded by humans. The last thing we’ve had to do over the years is to simply accept that the ants would never go away completely and that we would have to learn to live with them.  Those ants in the bathroom?  Sure.  You can stay there guys.  The ants traipsing across the steps of our front porch?  Well, just don’t cross the threshold into the house, okay? Okay?

I desire to be used by God but that also means I need to follow God in whichever direction He leads.  Does this mean that I must embrace an element of chaos if I want to follow Jesus?

I think that embracing the chaos can look different for everyone, and, it may not be the challenge that God is asking you to embrace.  My husband and I are nearly totally opposite people – for him, embracing chaos is exciting (or normal – because what’s chaotic for me is not for him since he is Thai and this is his home culture!) and he enjoys the challenge.  For me, I am a natural homebody (which is quite ironic considering how the Lord has called me to be involved in Kingdom building) and I like to plan things so I know what to expect.  Accepting the unexpected opens the door for both potential failure and success.

The ants in my kitchen represent something stressful and unmanageable.  They are unpredictable and potentially destructive.  They are my storm, whereas a clean, antless house would be my calm.  But if I let the ants blow me down, increase my stress and invade my peace, what will that mean for bigger life challenges?  Sickness?  Death?  Loss or disappointment of any kind?

No, as the Lord is leading me, I must embrace a portion of chaos and ask the Lord what He wants me to look for, listen for and learn in the process.  Because stepping out of the boat to walk on water to Jesus? It’s only possible if I first step out of the boat.

What is the Lord inviting you to embrace in this season?

Five Minute Friday: Adapt #FMF

One of the first things you may hear when you’re preparing to go to the mission field is to be ready to adapt.  Obviously, when you move to a different country and a different culture and a different language, you will NEED to adapt.  I’m not talking about that.  Yes, that’s important and yes, that will be something to work on but I’m talking about a different adapting.  I’m talking about adapting your expectations.

You’ll be faced with a barrage of situations where what you understood going into the situation will not be how things will turn out.  You’ll need to be flexible and – wait for it – adapt.

It will require you to be humble, take the position of a learner and listener and observer (because how often is communication something done instead of something said) and release your understanding and preconceived ideas.

Adapting in this way will require you to accept a level of ambiguity but it will allow you to receive opportunities to deepen relationships and cultural understanding that will only aid your ministry.

It’s a small thing with the potential for a big impact.

Five Minute Friday (FMF): Help

Help late in the evening while on the road for work.  Help with a baby fussy in your arms.  Help with a toddler challenging you at every turn.

The Lord is near.  He is mighty to save.  He is my Helper, my Strength, my Wisdom, my Friend.

On the edge of a village, I feel like I could be on the edge of the world sometimes.  Who can hear my cries for a friend?  Who can hear my cries for help?

I called to the Lord and He heard my cries.  He sets my feet upon a rock.  He gave me firm place to stand.

I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from?  My help comes from Him, Maker of Heaven, Creator of the earth.

Kateful 3.0 – “_____, where are you?”

“Susu, where are you?”

“Meemee, where are you?”

“Story, where are you?”

“Daddy, where are you?”

Kate has clearly got this searching question format down.  All day today, she was calling out to her missing items.  Her soother, her lovey/blankey, her story (?), and her little person toy/figure that Tawee named Daddy – just for fun.

It’s so fun to see her mind at work; understanding how to form the question and replace just the beginning part of the sentence with the item she’s searching for.

She really is doing this language learning thing really well and it reminds me so much of how I’ve been taught HOW to learn a language.  She does it not because someone taught her to do it this way, but just as she continues to develop, this part of her brain just does it.  I don’t know.  She’s amazing to me.  And God is much much MUCH more amazing that He would create us to learn like this!

Later in the day, as I was making dinner, Kate brought in Tawee’s snow pants and wanted me to put her in them.  I still don’t know how she managed to shuffle along as her feet only went down as far as the knees in them – maybe.  THEN she brought in Tawee’s hoodie and wanted help to put that on.  A little monkey with the sleeves rolled up, front zipped up and hood pulled up.  I just love her.