Hellos and Good-byes

These 12 days in Argentina have flown by, while at the same time I feel like I've been here forever. It's been really good to be here and it's always a bit sad to leave, but at the same time I leave with a sense of peace and gratitude for this time and ready for the next phase of my summer. Last night, Ecclesiastes 3:1 came to mind: For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven. I feel like this is the theme of my summer this year- an ending to seasons in Bangkok as friends leave, connecting with the season I spent in Buenos Aires, preparing for the seasons ahead in Bangkok and in life. There is a time and place for each one and as even good seasons pass, we have to let them go. I am grateful for friendships that extend beyond place and time zone, and for technology that keeps us close despite the distance. 

Tuck: Rocks Beside the Road

I have been thinking a lot lately about one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books, Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt.  Yes, it's young adult literature, but it's also incredibly good, and really quite deep.  It explores concepts of eternity, of seasons and circles, of change and growth. In one poiniant chapter Pa Tuck has a conversation with our young protagonist, Winnie, in which he explains why living forever and never ageing or changing is actually not a good thing.  His words, rocks beside the road have echoed in my mind for many years.  It's a long quote here, to give you the context,but hang with me. It's that good. 

"Know what that is, all around us, Winnie?" said Tuck, his voice low. "Life. Moving, growing, changing, never the same two minutes together. This water, you look out at it every morning, and it looks the same, but it ain't. All night long it's been moving, coming in through the stream back there to the west, slipping out through the stream down east here, always quiet, always new, moving on...

It's a wheel, Winnie. Everything's a wheel, turning and turning, never stopping. The frogs is part of it, and the bugs, and the fish, and the wood thrush too. And people. But never the same ones. Always coming in new, always growing and changing, and always moving on. That's the way it's supposed to be. That's the way it is...

But dying's part of the wheel, right there next to being born. You can't pick out the pieces you like and leave the rest. Being part of the whole thing, that's the blessing. But it's passing us by, us Tucks. Living's heavy work, but off to one side, the way we are, it's useless too. It don't make sense. If I knowed how to climb back on the wheel, I'd do it in a minute. You can't have living without dying. So you can't call it living, what we got. We just are, we just be, like rocks beside the road. 

Now, Pa Tuck focuses on the dying part of living, but for me, it's more the changing part of living that I don't like. I don't even like changing shampoo much less anything actually important. Or big. But Tuck's words remind me time and time again that if I'm not changing, not growing, than I'm not really living. If I don't allow those around me to change and grow, than I'm not allowing them to live either. 

This wheel of change is not easy. Living's heavy work says Tuck. My friends move into town, which means they go to a different church, which means I lose my Sunday lunch buddies and friends at church. We all move on from different things at different times. Kids back home grow and change and I miss major phases and stages. Even my little people that I see all the time- they change faster than you can blink. People come and go, they move, or yes, sometimes they die. We feel the weight of the wheel as it turns and we run to catch up with it, to move on, always new. And somedays when that strain feels too much I remember the alternative, a rock beside the road, and I sigh, and pick up, and keep turning. 

Dreams

This Langston Hughes poem has been running through my mind a lot lately. One of my biggest childhood dreams slowly died a few years ago and it has taken awhile for the loss to really sink in. But as it has, and the tears have fallen, I have been reminded that I have to keep dreaming, even if it opens me up to the possibility of more hurt. That one dream has passed and died, which I guess just means it is time to replace it with a new one, and hold fast. 

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow. 

Langston Hughes

Joy and sorrow.

Joy and sorrow are never separated. When our hearts rejoice at a spectacular view, we may miss our friends who cannot see it, and when we are overwhelmed with grief, we may discover what true friendship is all about. Joy is hidden in sorrow and sorrow in joy. If we try to avoid sorrow at all costs, we may never taste joy, and if we are suspicious of ecstasy, agony can never reach us either. Joy and sorrow are the parents of our spiritual growth. -Henri Nouwen

This quote has really been on my mind lately as life become an even more and more intertwined web of joy and sorrow.  Things are good: teaching is good, apartment is good, friendships are good, church is good, time with God is good.  In short, there is much joy in my life. Joy and laughter and peace and stillness and fun.  And yet at the same time, everything reminds me of something or someone I miss.  In the midst of that joy and stillness and fun, my insecurities surface.  The past two weekends I've been able to skype with good friends in Michigan and Buenos Aires.  Sorrow in joy as I love to connect with them, yet miss my days with them, miss seeing their little ones grow up. Joy in sorrow in the down days lately where dear friends have come along side me, where God has revealed himself in new ways, breaking down my heart in order to fill it with more of himself.  

I am continually amazed at how God is able to weave these two opposites together in my life and in the world around me.  I like how Nouwen says in his last line of this quote that it is joy and sorrow who are our spiritual parents, who teach us and mold us and shape us in ways that are both subtle and obvious.  They cannot be separated, this sorrow and joy, nor do I think, in many ways, I really want them to be. 

Darkest Nights: when grief pokes in

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment

Today was a difficult day at ICS. On Monday night, one of our 7th grade girls passed away.  It was sudden and tragic- in a matter of hours she went from having a toothache to feeling tired and weak to her heart stopping (likely due to a blood infection).  She missed all of last year due to illness, but had come back this year healthy and so excited to be back in school. Her older brother, now in 9th grade, was in my Pre-Algebra class last year.  Today we had to inform the students, including her friends, of her death.  And then after school, a group of faculty and staff went to the temple to visit with the family.

Typically, there doesn't seem to be much of a "wake", and the funeral ceremony involves chanting by the monks while the family makes merit (offers them small gifts, I think).  Originally we were going to go to that, but the family wanted to have a special visitation-type time beforehand for the school staff since we are not Buddhist. While obviously difficult, it was also really good to be there with the family, to talk and grieve with them, to pray with and for them.  I was amazed by how much the school meant to them and how grateful they were for our presence and support.  It was interesting to see some of the traditions and customs, every culture deals with death differently, but not exactly the way I wanted to learn about it.

Her passing has definitely made everyone think about the fragility of life, and while facing those deep questions and fears can be hard, it can also be really good.  It reminds us of why we are here, why we do what we do at ICS and in Thailand, and also reminds us to be intentional in how we treat one another and in how we live our lives. 

Please keep this family and the student's friends in your thoughts and prayers.  Death is never easy, less so something so sudden, and less so with someone so young.  There is nothing that can be said to explain it or make it okay.  It is one of those things that just is. But we pray God's peace and comfort over them at this time. We pray that somehow, in  his infinite wisdom he is able to bring good out of tragedy, light from darkness. 

One thing that really surprised me was that many people took pictures- of the flowers, the casket, her photo, and that this was normal, expected almost.  It was strange at first, but then seemed kind of nice- something for people to keep to remember.  This picture was taken by one of my friends. 

Love flow down

I heard a quote a few weeks ago, I think at church, that has just been churning around in my head ever since.  We can never do anything to make God love us more than he already does.  At first, it just seems like yeah yeah yeah, I heard that before, and I get it. But on closer examination I am starting to see just how much of my life revolves around trying to earn grace, trying to earn love.  And when I can stop trying to earn it, trying to make God love me more, I have the freedom to do so many other things.  When my energy is not all going towards trying to impress God, I have more energy to live the abundant life he has given me.  I can spend time with friends and give real time to them.  I can workout. I can teach and tutor and put more into my job.  I can teach English.  I can watch Downton Abbey and lose myself in a good story and strong characters.  I can go grocery shopping.  I can cook.  I can even mingle. With people I don't know. On a weekly basis.  Without thinking, shoot me now, the entire time. 
As I am better able to comprehend the depth that I am loved, I am better able to love others.  To relax (my family has been trying to get me to do this one for years).  To give.  To extend grace.  To let God be God and just rest in him and in the knowledge that nothing I do today, or tomorrow, is going to change the depths of the riches of his glorious love for me.

Too often I hear truth and I don't really let it settle and resonate deeply.  But this one I can't get out of my head.

God's love for me does not depend on how clean my apartment it. Or how well decorated it is.  It does not depend on the number of friends I have or the quality of friendships.  It has little to do with how I teach or what I teach or even if I teach.  His love is not going to increase if I'm more involved at church or if I always remember people's birthdays.  It won't deepen because I wake up early to pray or lessen when I am unable to do so.  His love won't diminish if I buy veggies and don't get around to eating them and they rot in the fridge. I can't earn it by what I write or say or do.  It is not inversely proportional to the size of the inner tube that is developing around my belly.  His love doesn't change based on marital status or social status or facebook status.  His love is already at the fullest possible measure.  His grace is already offered.  He is already my God.

I hope this truth can settle even more deeply into my heart in the days to come, that it continues to turn and tumble through my mind until it takes root.   

Dwelling Place

Dwell: to live or stay as a permanent resident; reside. 

Moving around so much the past 5 years has taught me a lot about the meaning of the word home.  You hear all kinds of definitions, from 'where the heart is' to 'where you lay your head' and recently I heard one I like better than most others: home is where there are people waiting for you to arrive.  I've stopped trying to define it, and stopped trying to avoid the inevitable contradictions of phrases like "I'm going home for the summer" and then when I get there, saying, "Yeah, I go back home (to Bangkok in x weeks..."  Home is Michigan. Home is Bangkok. And I have realized these past few days, home is still Buenos Aires also.  

I've learned that it doesn't really matter where my home is, along as I am dwelling in the shelter of the Most High and resting in the shadow of the Almighty.  My home here on earth is temporary. My dwelling in the courts of the Lord is eternal.  

But too often I forget that.  Too often I get it al revés or turned the other way around.  I start thinking that I need to make a home wherever I am in order to be secure. I forget that I am a permanent resident of a place so much greater than anything I can imagine here. I forget that what I see does not last- that it is the unseen that is eternal.  Much of my stress in life, too much of it, comes from things that are rooted in the here and now.  But if my permanent residence isn't here, if I am truly a stranger and alien in this land, than why am I spending so much time and energy worrying about it?  


He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  

God, give us eyes to see not just the seen, but the unseen, to fix our eyes on you and make your house our dwelling place, and not to get caught in all that surrounds and entraps us here.  May we truly rest in your shadow. 

Everybody's Got Their Thing

This week I have been strongly reminded of a phrase that my friend and I coined in college: Everybody's got their thing.  We say this because we realized that each of us, every single one of us, have issues that we deal with in our lives.  We all have struggles or situations or events that can affect who we are and how we interact with the world around us.

We say this for several reasons. First, on the days or at the times when we have to deal with our "thing" and we are tempted to feel sorry for ourselves, we remember that everybody's got their thing.  And although another person may not have to deal with our exact situation- be it medical or familial or financial or emotional or whatever- we are not alone in dealing with something.  When you're the only one with a "thing" it's easy to fall into self pity.  But when everybody's got something, there's no wallowing. 

We also say this because remembering that whomever we are dealing with (or having trouble dealing with, as the case may be) mostly likely has a "thing" in their lives, makes it easier to deal with them. Maybe it's an underlying issue between them and God that they need to work out with him and we need to not let ourselves get dragged into it.  Or maybe it's a situation that for whatever reason has flared up in their life and beneath the surface they are dealing with more than we imagine.  Thinking this way helps me to give grace- to the grouchy cashier or the sassy student or sullen waitress or distant friend- when I would otherwise get irritated.  It also helps me when I'm in conflict with others to remember that their actions or reactions that may hurt me are often based in their own issues, and not based on me. 

And lastly, it helps me build friendships in community.  It's funny how God works- I'd been thinking about this a lot this week and then it was the topic of our morning devotional today.  I love having friendships where we can lean on each other- when the things I deal with flare up, I can talk to them or cry with them or pray together, and when they have bad days they can come to me to talk or pray.  But when we try to live in "island" worlds where we don't have struggles, don't have bad days, don't have "things" we deal with in our lives, true community isn't possible. I read a great Henri Nouwen quote this morning about how no one person is able to hold us up, but when we are able to fall back into a community they are able to support us.  What a testimony it would be if the Christian community were able to live that out! 

I'm sure as the years pass I'll come up with even more great applications for it- until then, just remember, everybody's got their thing.

God Wins: thoughts on genocide

I'm not a huge movie person.  There are essentially two kinds of movies I like: based on a true story and based on a Jane Austen novel.  This evening I watched one of the former, Hotel Rwanda.  On Friday I borrowed a copy from a friend and after a hot day at Nak Suu today I decided to relax in the AC and watch it.  Several years ago I read Left to Tell  by Immaculée Ilibaguza (which I believe is currently in the Collins library) and it left a deep impression on me.  So on my flights here in January I read We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families by Philip Gourevitch (which I will return to the Collins library in June).  Both books deal with the horrific events of 1994 which are the root cause of horrific events in the Democratic Republic of the Congo today.  When I was job searching a little over a year ago Kigali was one of the cities receiving serious consideration.  All this to say, this is a movie I've been wanting to see for a long time. 

If you haven't seen the film, I highly recommend it.  Tears flowed freely at several points as I watched the grief and loss of families torn apart not just by war, but by genocide.  What strikes me the most when I read about what happened in Rwanda, or in Cambodia or any other number of places, is that the rest of the world knew what was going on- and did nothing- even after the lessons from the Holocaust (did we really learn anything from that?). As Edmund Burke famously said, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."  But even as I type that I realize how complicated that is for foreign governments, and how frequently UN peacekeepers are quite useless.

Sometimes I wonder, what is going on in the world today that we know about, yet are doing nothing?  Several places come to mind that are in the midst of terrible conflict, some with spokespeople or intervention and some without, but it all makes me so grateful that God is a God of justice.  No matter how many tears I cry- at the atrocities in memoirs or movies or in the news or in my own city- they are nothing compared to the tears that he cries.  Honestly, if I didn't know that God wins, that he knows and sees all things and that he will come for judgement, than I don't think I could live in this world.

Everywhere you look there is suffering- it crosses the boundaries of race and nationality and class and religion.  I see heartbreak and poverty every day on the streets of Bangkok.  I saw it on the streets of Detroit.  Every church, temple, mosque, or synagogue on planet earth if full of hurting broken people.  And yet, God offers us hope, and that is why I can learn about all this stuff and still get out of bed in the morning.  God wins.  That's the bottom line.  God brings justice to Rwanda, to Cambodia, to the streets of Syria and Egypt.  I need to do all I can to fight and stand for justice now, but rest assured, what we cannot see, God can.  What we cannot avenge, he will.  On the last page of the book, when the last word of the story has been written, God wins.

A cultural home

This morning I read something that resonated deeply within me as I resettle into my adopted culture and adjust to being away from my home culture.  Henri Nouwen is so often able to put words to thoughts I hadn't known that I'd thought, and this was no exception.  This is what struck me so much:

"Being back in France makes me think much about countries and cultures.  During the past few months I have been in Holland, Germany, Canada, the United States, and England, and in all these countries  I have had intense contact with people and their ways of living, praying, and playing.  There is great temptation to want to know which culture is best and where I am most happy and at home.  But this way of thinking leads to endless frustrations because the Dutch, Germans, the French, the Americans, and the Canadians are all people who have unique ways of feeling, thinking, and behaving, none of which totally fits my needs, but all of which have gifts for me... I am increasingly aware of how important it is to enjoy what is given and to fully live where one is...

Do we really need to belong to one country or one culture?  In our world, where distances are becoming less each day, it seems important to become less and less dependent on one place, one language, one culture, or one style of life, but to experience oneself as a member of the human family, belonging to God and free to be wherever we are called to be.  I even wonder if the ability to be in so many places so quickly and so often is not an invitation to grow deeper in the spirit and let our identity be more rooted in God and less in the place in which we happen to be."  (emphasis mine)

These words bring me so much comfort as I feel the pulls of the US, Thailand, and Argentina.  I relate to different aspects of each culture and yet none of them fits me completely.  I feel so blessed to be able to live in and experience different cultures, different faces of God really, and to take away what I can from each one. 

Renewed: Preparing to leave once again

I've got 48 hours left in the US and I plan to spend quite a few of them, how else, shopping.  Lots of great things to stock up on before I go.  Usually I spread out the collecting and spending over the entire visit, but this one has been so busy that it's all been left till the end.  Despite all the great products, what I love most about the US is the people, of course.  Granted, what I love most about Thailand is the people and what I miss most about Argentina is the people.  I think I just like people. 

But people, also, are hard to fit in a suitcase. And people are altogether too fragile, as a family tragedy has taught us all too well this week.  You can take every precaution, but so much of life is just unpreventable, unpredictable, and wholly unexplainable.   And that is, in part, what makes it so nice to come home and reconnect with so many people I love- too often this moment is all we have. 

My days in Michigan have been a deep breath, a step away from a life that I love, but a life also filled with challenges. I return to Bangkok this week with a renewed sense of purpose, in my life and in my work.  I return with renewed passion to live and love how Jesus did, with a layer of healing and forgiveness between me and some of the hurts of last semester, and with a joy to jump back into teaching and into learning Thai. I also return with twice as much luggage as I came with, but that's to be expected :)  These past few days the verse that keeps coming to mind is one from Isaiah, I don't know the chapter and verse off hand, but one that I have realized is just as much of a life verse as any other I have chosen: Yes, Lord, walking in your ways we wait for you, for your name and your renown are the desire of our hearts. 

May my heart always look at Jesus and say Yes, Lord. May I walk in his ways. May I wait for him, for he has a time for everything under heaven. And may the desire of my heart always be his Name and his renown.

Light in the Darkness

At the wedding on Saturday, there were extra lanterns (aka unity candles) so my friends and I grabbed one and took it down to the beach where we were soon joined by a host of other lantern lighters.  I love this shot because you can see the beauty of how it lights up the night, but also the act of sending it off, literally leaving the hands that held it.  A beautiful moment with sweet friends. 

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him everything was made.  Without him nothing was made that has been made.  In him was life and this life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.  John 1:1-5

Ambiguity: How a little gray area has helped me experience God more fully

Too much on my mind for me to wait to blog until tomorrow, tired as I am. Plus, I have a back log of blog entries in my head, so I had better start getting them out.

I am currently in the process of finding a church home here in Bangkok, and it's not going anything like I planned.  Those of you who know me know how much I hate ambiguity.  My world is black and white with splashes of pink- gray does not exist to me.  However, I find myself in a season of ambiguity with church, visiting a different place every week.  This was not my original intent.

Our first three Sundays here the school arranged transportation for us to three different international churches in town.  We were also given some information about a few other English speaking churches.  So those first weeks I went church shopping.  And those who have had to move and find a new church know how much of a joy that can be.  After those first weeks, I felt no real draw to any of the churches (though also nothing at any of them that would prevent me from going there, doctrinally speaking) and so I looked into one other international church a friend went to.  And that's about when the stress started.  Because although I liked that church as well, probably more than the others, I still wasn't quite sure it was home and I really wanted this decision made.  As is made. It was really bothering me that I wasn't sure where I wanted to go to church, and I began to really dread going anywhere each week. Everyone around me (all the other new teachers) were finding and settling into their new churches and I was still, undecided. 

Then one Saturday I was driving in a car with a friend and the wives of two other teachers and one of them told me about this church they went to that was Thai but had English translation and it sounded really cool, and I wanted to visit with them.  And somewhere in the decision to visit this other church, I gave myself permission to let the decision be and not choose a church just yet.  Suddenly, I really wanted to go to church every week because I was no longer shopping.  I was going to church to worship God and hear from him.  It just happened to be with a different group each time.  Don't get me wrong, I do want and intend to settle somewhere eventually- I just don't know how long it is going to take.  I started gathering a mental list of places to visit and have expanded into churches that are perhaps a bit out of my comfort zone in ways, but oddly a good fit for me nonetheless.

The best part of the whole thing is how I have been freed from the analytical perspective behind church shopping and am just able to go and worship and hear the Word and not wonder the whole time "Is this the place?"  And God has been incredibly faithful to me in that.  Each week, no matter where I go or what their style or background is, God has shown up and spoken to me.  Each sermon seems directed right at me.  Each week I walk away with verses and passages that I want to read and meditate on during the week.  And today something even more incredible happened- I took notes!!!  Now, I know some of you take sermon notes every week, but that is just not my thing.  I take notes about once every five years, and only in a desire to stay awake. But today, two minutes into it, I'm asking my friend for a pen because I just had to write this down.  It was a guest speaker, which if you are church shopping is very annoying because you want a sample of a normal Sunday, the usual pastor, not a guest, but when you're just visiting you don't care because you're not there to analyze but to worship. So she was preaching on 2 Samuel 22 (who gets this excited about OT sermons?!  but seriously, look it up and read it, it's basically Psalm 18 and it rocks) and I'm just writing things down left and right.  Things I needed to hear, things about who God is and who he is in our lives.  One of my favorite bits was the end, when she said, "Don't just preach 'God is', you have to live it" meaning we have to live out who God is in our lives.  Rock. Redeemer. Refuge. Salvation. Stronghold. Savior.

It's so neat to me how a small change in perspective in the church finding process has opened up such doors for me to hear from God.  I love going to church every week and even tithing each week in a different place because I am then able to support such a panoply of ministries across the city.  I have at least one more church on my list of places I want to visit (which I won't get to for a few weeks because I'll be out of town).  And then I'll make some return visits to the places I connected with the best, and then, perhaps, the ambiguity will end.  But until then, I'm going to just keep soaking it up, wherever I am each week.

"It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect." 2 Samuel 22:33

Good-bye Week

Logic may say that good-byes should get easier; they don't.  If anything, they get harder.  And this week is a week of packing, last minute shopping, and saying good-bye.  Today was one of the hardest ones.  It reminds me of one of my favorite poems, a short little one I've memorized just by reading it. 

For me who go,
for you who stay-
two autumns. 
- Taniguchi Buson

But I am reminded, even in the midst of the sadness and pain, that I go for a reason, a mission, a purpose.  The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.

New Adventures

Everything you want in life has a price connected to it. There's a price to pay if you want to make things better, a price to pay just for leaving things as they are, a price for everything.

Harry Browne

All changes are more or less tinged with melancholy, for what we are leaving behind is part of ourselves.

Amelia Barr

A man practices the art of adventure when he breaks the chain of routine and renews his life through reading new books, traveling to new places, making new friends, taking up new hobbies and adopting new viewpoints

Wilfred Peterson

One Month

I leave one month from today.  This fact has little to do with this blog post, but it is nonetheless, monumental in my mind and deserves mention. 

I spent the last week Up North at Long Lake and, amongst other things, read two books.  One of them was a nice light beach read.  The other was the kind of book that can change your life, challenge how you live it, and stick with you forever.  The Hole in our Gospel by Richard Stearns is not a heavy theological read.  I wish I could quote the whole thing to you right here, but I know I would lose my handful of readers.   Rich Stearns is the President of World Vision US and his book paints a picture of poverty around the world and what we are called to do about it.  I love the way he weaves quotes throughout the book- both verses from the Bible and quote from religious leaders and many others.  He starts by telling the story of how he came to World Vision from his CEO position and how seeing poverty close up has changed him and his family.  It's not preachy or judgmental, even as he shows how little effort it would actually take from the world's wealthy to make a significant impact on the world's poor.  For me, it changes how I pack for Thailand, how I plan to use my salary there, and my free time.  It changes what I do with many of the items I won't take with me, and I hope, how I will live when I am there.  I am quite willing, even eager, to loan out my copy of The Hole in our Gospel; let me know if you'd like to borrow it. 


So I won't bore you with long quotes from the book, but I will give you just this one.  When you see poverty in the world and are overwhelmed and feel useless in the fight, remember this African saying: If you think you are too small to make a difference, try spending the night in a closed room with a mosquito.  

The way, the truth, and the LIFE

This blog is titled La Vida Eterna, which means eternal life, and today I am reminded strongly of the eternal life that we have in Christ.  As I have mentioned, I have been blessed to spend the vast majority of my subbing days this year (and about 95% of second semester) at one specific middle school where I have come to feel at home, where I will be teaching summer school.  One of their teachers has been battling cancer, and he lost that fight yesterday afternoon.  I had spoken with this man only a few times, yet through his life and witness and medical blog, he has made a lasting impression on my life.  He and his wife and family are strong believers and this came through abundantly as they wrote about their faith in the midst of this struggle.  Even as they shared on the blog the news of his passing, their faith and trust in the Lord shone through.  He leaves behind a wife and three small children, and I encourage you to keep them in your prayers.

The news today reminds me of how fleeting life is, that it really is but a breath, like the grass that so quickly withers and dies.  It reminds me that the things that I spend so much time, money, and energy on are not the things that last.  The worries and cares of my mind- these are not the things that matter.  This news reminds me that I must run in such a way as to get the prize, to earn the crown that lasts, the crown of righteousness.  And, as a dear friend reminded me last night, today impresses on me even more the fact that in everything in life we are called to endure because the Risen Christ walks with us and is by our side. 

"When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."  Where, I death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting?  ... Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm.  Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain."  1 Corinthians 15:54-58

Something More

I've been watching a fair amount of "The West Wing" lately and have been finding myself drawn to something in the characters that I couldn't quite put my finger on at first. How could a television show make a job working 18 hours a day in politics and public policy look appealing? How could they manage to make it look fun? And then I realized what it was about these characters' lives that was appealing: they are working, giving all they have, for a cause that they believe in, a cause that one of them describes as "the real deal".

It made me realize what is so appealing about serving as a missionary teacher in Thailand- that I'll be a part of a team, working together, striving together for a cause we believe in, something more than a cause in fact, but the real deal. One of the things I loved about teaching at BAICA was the sense of family among the staff. Were staff relationships perfect? No- de ninguna manera. But, there was a sense there that I don't get in any other school or job, a sense that we are striving together for something that is worth something. And I am looking forward to that sense of community and family and purpose in Thailand.

In "The West Wing", they are not, obviously, working for what is true and lasting, no matter how noble the effort is. How much greater is it when the cause and ideal that we are putting our time into is the very one that lasts forever.

To be bored, therefore, does not mean that we have nothing to do, but that we question the value of the things we are so busy doing. The great paradox of our time is that many of us are busy and bored at the same time. While running from one event to the next, we wonder in our innermost selves if anything is really happening. While we can hardly keep up with our many tasks and obligations, we are not so sure that it would make any difference if we did nothing at all. While people keep pushing us in all directions, we doubt if anyone really cares. In short, while our lives are full, we feel unfulfilled... Henry Nouwen

Words, palabras, kam

I love words. I think maybe on some level, I have always known this, but it has certainly become more apparent to me in recent days. I love language. I love reading and writing and speaking and listening. I love Spanish and the mystery of translation and communication. I love learning Thai and being able to utter even the most basic sentences. I love how words carry so much meaning, how they paint pictures, how they connect people, how they heal.

I've been reading through many of my favorite books in recent months, books that never make the trip overseas with me. My latest book is The Dance of Life by one of my all-time favorite authors, Henri Nouwen. I was introduced to Nouwen in college and was immediately struck by his depth of writing. The Dance of Life is a collection of many of his writings and my copy is entirely dog-earred, underlined, and starred- though one passage struck me this week as especially applicable for where I am today. I've written before of the inner struggle between joy and sadness, about leaving Argentina, about being here, about going to Thailand. Here, Nouwen writes about such complex emotions:

Our life is a short time in expectation, a time in which sadness and joy kiss each other at every moment. There is a quality of sadness that pervades all the moments of our life. It seems that there is no such thing as clear-cut pure joy but that, even in the most happy moments of our existence, we sense a twinge of sadness. In every satisfaction, there is an awareness of its limitations. In every success, there is the fear of jealousy. Behind every smile, there is a tear. In every embrace, there is loneliness. In every friendship, distance. And in all forms of light, there is knowledge of surrounding darkness.

Joy and sadness are as close to each other as the splendid colored leaves of a New England fall to the soberness of the barren trees. When you touch the hand of a returning friend, you already know that he will have to leave you again. When you are moved by the quiet vastness of a sun-covered ocean, you miss the friend who cannot see the same. Joy and sadness are born at the same time, both arising from such deep places in your heart that you can't find words to capture your complex emotions.

Here I am, send me!

I find myself in such a conflict of emotions these days, part of me is still so attached to my nearest and dearest in Buenos Aires, part of me is so enjoying these days with family and friends here in Michigan, and part of me is quite ready to take on the challenge of Bangkok. In the past week, as I have made my decision known, I have found myself frequently answering the questions of why I am leaving again, and why Bangkok. And I think in response to that I find myself only expressing the positive emotions associated with going. It would be easy to think that I have no fear or sadness as I prepare for this change. In many ways, I think I feel the need to defend my choice, and to express these doubts or fears would somehow say that perhaps I shouldn't go. To me, the fear and sadness are not reasons to stay, they are simply part of going.

I see God's hand so clearly, months before I even get to Thailand. It was quicker and easier than I ever expected to find someone to teach/tutor me in Thai before I go. My first craigslist post was up for less than an hour before I got a response, and when that person didn't work out, my second post was up less than 24 hours. I start class on Tuesday and am amazed at how God has provided that so conveniently.

But I see it even more so in my own heart. In a country where less than 1% of the population knows Jesus, the need and the harvest is plentiful. When God asks "Whom can I send? Who will go for us?" I enthusiastically cry out, "Here I am! Send me!". I am blessed to like living in and exploring other cultures and languages, despite the obvious drawbacks and challenges. I haven't always been that way, it is an interest that God has developed in me, no doubt in preparation for this work. My prayer is not that God would make me happy, but that he would be glorified in me, that I would be fully satisfied in him, and the two are intrinsically linked. As Bryan Chappell writes in his book Praying Backwards: Transform Your Prayer Life by Beginning In Jesus' Name, "We are never more satisfied than when we are content with his plan for our lives...In short, when we have no greater desire for Jesus to be glorified in us, he grants us the desires of our heart."