National Orchid Garden at the Singapore Botanical Gardens
I've returned to Bangkok for the days of Songkran, Thai New Year, which I know I have blogged about before. To be honest, I'm not the biggest fan of the 3 day country wide water fight. Sure, it's great if you are out playing Songkran, but spending my days holed up inside or going out and risking having water sprayed, squirted, or dumped all over you is not exactly fun. Last Friday, before break, we played Songkran with the K4 kids and it was the most fun I've ever had playing Songkran, and probably my favorite event of K4 thus far. The water from the hoses was warm and gentle, I was dressed for and prepared to get soaked, and the pint sized splashers were just the right level of intensity for me. The kids LOVED pouring water all over their teachers and we were happy to return the favor. Yesterday, for the first official day of Songkran, I joined friends at a nearby water park, my first water park trip in Thailand. It was a great way to spend a crazy hot day and a fun way to play in the water. Today I'll get a ride over to my friends' house for a BBQ instead of riding my bike, since I'd have to go down lots of back roads where kids and drunken adults lie in wait with their squirt guns and buckets of ice water. Dodging Songkran is doable if you plan and prepare for it, which I am finally learning to do properly. And maybe this year I am learning to love it just a little tiny bit.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my beloved nephew Elliot. Do you see him in this picture, taken just a few days after I first started loving him?
My sister was just a few months along and had recently told us she was expecting. And before I met him, before I knew his name or his gender, before he could do any little thing that could bring me joy, I loved him and he brought us joy. I'm sure that seems like a big giant "duh" to anyone who is a parent, and it's not exactly a revolutionary thought, but when I've thought or talked lately about God's love for us, my mind goes to Elliot. Long before he could do anything, before he could contribute or give anything, before he could even make us laugh, we loved him. We loved him just for being, and for being ours. Connected. More obvious perhaps for my sister, brother-in-law, and parents, but connected to me too. My sister and I are deeply genetically and otherwise connected (and we even have practically identical faces) and Elliot carries a piece of her in him, so he kind of carries a piece of me too. He's the first little person of our next generation, and that has affected me more than I anticipated. Even now at nearly 14 months, he can "contribute" little, yet we delight in him. We delight in each of his new tricks, in each new skill, and in his simple being. We delight in his walking, but we'd love him just as much if he weren't yet walking. We delight in his big bald head, but we'd love him just as much if it were buried in hair. And I'm just his aunt, not even his mother. Not even his God, who created him and formed him and laid plans and purposes for him. That's been ruminating this week as I read about our Father God who made us and loves us.
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