No fear of bad news

Psalm 112:7 says, "They will have no fear of bad news; their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord."

I've been thinking a lot about this verse lately, as the past two weeks have been riddled with news of tragedy. A co-worker and father of three young children comes closer to the end of his battle with cancer; a Hope Professor dies giving birth to her first child; a guy from my hometown who graduated from Hope with me is killed instantly when his car hits the median driving home from work; a second cousin is found dead in his off-campus apartment of an apparent suicide. As I have heard each one of these stories I find myself thinking most of the family left behind, those that receive the phone calls, that deal with the aftermath, the lifetime of grief.

And my mind has kept coming back to Psalm 112, grappling to understand how we are to have no fear of bad news in the face of such bad news- every one of the families affected by these events are Christians. I think somehow, the key to the verse is the second half, the steadfast trust in the Lord that allows us to not fear, even in the midst of bad news, and in the following verse. The next verse, verse 8, says "Their hearts are secure, they will have no fear; in the end they will look in triumph on their foes." Our trust and security do not come because we know that we will never be touched by tragedy, that we will never receive 'that phone call' or never experience the pain of sorrow and death. We have no fear because in the end, we have the victory in Jesus Christ. We have no fear because of the promise of eternal life. Psalm 112 doesn't say that we have no sorrow or pain, that immeasurable grief won't come our way. As Pa Tuck said in Tuck Everlasting, dying is a part of living, without it we are like rocks at the side of the road.

This weekend we remember and celebrate Jesus' death and resurrection, his sacrifice that allows us to live victorious over the grave: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" 1 Corinthians 15:55. In the face of such grief and tough news, I cling to the hope we have in Christ, that he walks with us, never leaving us alone.

Treasures in Heaven

Wow, I can't believe it's been almost a month since I've blogged! Lots going on, in life, in my head, in my heart. I've been working hard in another long term sub position, and finding it much more challenging than the last. At the same time, I have enjoyed the consistency, especially being in the same building as before, where the staff has really welcomed me and made me feel at home.

During spring break I had the opportunity to stay with two of my cousins for a week while their parents were gone and really enjoyed hanging out with them. Unfortunately I got the World's Worst Cold during that time, which was just hitting it's peak when two of my friends came to visit for a few days. It was awesome to see the girls, but I felt really bad not being able to do much with them. By last weekend I was beginning to be able to sleep a bit at night, but also came down with laryngitis- not a great thing for a teacher! I limped through this week at work and am finally back to nearly 100% voice.

I'm also plugging away on preparations for Thailand and have taken great steps in completing my paperwork. Emotionally, the preparation is coming along as well. I'm working on various plans and places to go and people to see before I leave (in 3 short months!). God has definitely been at work in my heart, helping me to appreciate these moments while still getting ready for this new chapter.

Lately I've been struck by the fragility of life and the hope that we have in Christ- how all the rest of it just means so little. Ecclesiastes resonates in my head, 'meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless!' as it becomes more and more clear to me what really lasts. I was watching the third Narnia movie last weekend with my friends and one scene jumped out with me: when Eustace finds the dragon's treasure and his eyes get real big and he starts scooping up as much of it as possible. We, the reader/viewer, know how futile it is, how no matter how much he picks up, he can't take it with him. How much time and energy I spend trying to gather up what I can't take with me! My prayer is that no matter where I am, here or Thailand or elsewhere, I would spend my time and energy and resources to store up that which lasts.

Apartment Pics!

Here are some pictures of the apartments where I'll most likely be living in Bangkok, which are right next to the school.

This is the building. The ground floor is shops.

View from the building looking out from the front hall/balcony. The white building on the left is front of the school.

Example living area of a studio apartment

Example kitchen from a studio apartment. Stove, but no oven (have to get a toaster oven)

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

Still winter

According to Michiganders, it is "warming up" outside. But when I look outside, all I see is a Buenos Aires winter. It's 40F, maybe, and raining. Now, I'm not saying that it's not better than the single digit temps we were having, I'm just saying that in my book it's still winter. And boo on winter. Plus, they're predicting snow this week, so let's not get carried away.

Tomorrow I should be starting my next long term sub job teaching math. It will be at the same middle school as the last job, and I'm really glad about that. I was there yesterday, in for someone else, and got to sit and eat lunch with people I actually knew, who know me and include me in the conversation. As a sub, this is big, and makes such a difference in my day.

I'm continuing my Thai classes once per week and actually feel like I can say a few things now. My processing time is really slow so I don't think I'd be able to say much in real life, but I'm making progress at least. Yesterday I learned how to tell time. They don't use the 12 hour clock or the 24 hour clock in Thailand. They have a special system, which luckily has a few spots that utilize the 12 hour clock and has a few other patterns imbedded in them. What I've discovered is that if I can find I pattern, I can learn anything.

That's about all for life around here. One of these days spring will actually come!!

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."