Change of Locations :)

I moved guys! Blogger was getting so difficult so I am now at:

http://equipekj.wordpress.com/

Thank you for following!

30 second blurb about 3 months

Sarah and I leave today. After embarking on nonstop adventure for three months, getting on a plane seems like a normal next step. Diving back into American culture does not, but it does spark excitement in me. Matt asked today how our trip was. We love Matt for the depth of these questions. Kidding, but in all seriousness, being asked "How the trip was" is more than a difficult question. Giving one sentence or five minutes to describe three months is not adequate and does not give justice to what we have experienced. The trip was exciting, difficult, powerful, eye-opening, uncomfortable, fun and adventure packed. I experienced an incredible community, a fulfilling taste of the Lord that left me hungry for more, and a foreign country that I have grown to love. Matt also asked if the trip was what we thought it would be. I told him not at all. When I pictured this trip I saw it in a light that is similar to the way that I watch movies. Everything was comfortable and within control, with the bathroom down the hall and pizza just one call away. Any duration in Thailand longer than a layover will not be like the pleasant-vill I just described. However, it will be moving. It moved me known Jesus in a deeper way. It moved me to value people in a higher fashion. It moved me to know myself. It moved me to look beyond circumstance and trust the God that I have dedicated my life to. I have sighed deeply in Thailand from pure joy and from extreme frustration. I will treasure those very sighs for the rest of my life, along with the memories and friendships that have been made here. I have been deeply changed and touched by my time here. What an incredible experience.

Finally a post! :)

Hi readers! First off, I wanted to apologize for not writing in a while. I have been in an out of Internet service, but I am excited to share now!

In the last few weeks, my team and I have seemingly been all around Thailand. We said goodbye to our angels at BHJ on the 5^th of November. As you could imagine, it was sad saying goodbye to our girls. We have looked at pictures and missed them a lot already, but we are thankful more than anything for the months we spent with them. I don’t think I could ever forget them, even if I tried. I completely fell in love with those girls.

After we left the orphanage, we went on a five-day spiritual retreat. I had been excited for a long time about the retreat for a number of reasons. First being that we would be spending large amounts of time dissecting the Bible and our own faith and doctrines, and I love that. Secondly, we were going to have an entire day of silence, and that turned out to be glorious and refreshing. And lastly, I was feeling the cabin fever after being out at the orphanage for a while. The retreat, as a whole, felt like jumping into a cool pool on a hot day. My heart felt filled and my spirit was ready to jump back into exploring and our coming adventures. Reading the Bible does something to my spirit that nothing else can imitate. It draws me closer to the love of my life, and fills me up. Spending five days feasting on that love and filling was like spending an afternoon at a golden corral buffet, leaving me full and happy. As simple as a day of silence sounds, it was a treasure to me.

On the final day of our retreat, we ate some breakfast and packed our bags. Our next destination was Bangkok. We boarded an overnight train to Bangkok at about 5:00 PM on the 10^th and started one of the sweetest experiences yet. I have never been on a train like that before, the kind where you have a sleepover on it. We made a friend with one of the attendants and she ate a large portion of Matt’s dinner, which kept us laughing for a while. We played cards on the mini-tables until we were bored. We told jokes about pranks and made it clear to all of our surrounding train friends that we were American; loud and giggly. We called it a night after a very odd bathroom experience and of course, me ”proactiving” in the train sink. When it came to sleeping, they made it near impossible to actually get sleep. Between the slamming doors, overactive aircon and bright and shiny lights, I’m pretty sure one of us was up the entire night. Rereading that last sentence makes it sound like a real drag, but it was the kind of annoying details that just make you laugh because they are so far out of control, and laughing becomes the best option. The train was full of those laughs, and other laughs, and I loved it. Not to overuse the word, but again, that memory is a treasure. Overnight trains are a riot.

Bangkok as a city was a rough visit for me. I am not going to share too much, because I’m sure that you can hear complaining from any other person in your life, but as a whole, Bangkok is not my favorite place in the world. In a nutshell, Bangkok is a city that is known for prostitution, the very problem I came to Thailand to fight. I saw the girls, saw the faces, saw the men. More than anything I wanted to do something to help, and besides prayer, I had no way of contributing. I have known that prostitution is a huge and overwhelming problem the whole time, but my visit to Bangkok put an illustration to the facts. But enough about that. We all know what happens in Bangkok.

When we got up at 6AM on Sunday to leave the city, I was ready. I’m far from a morning person, but I was up and ready to head on out. We arrived at the airport around 7:15 and I learned quickly that we were not checking bags. Matt had mentioned that detail to all of us, but somehow I missed it. Usually I do fairly well preparing my 3oz liquids, but because I acquired the knowledge that we were “carrying on” at the airport, I was the psycho girl running around the airport with all of my liquids falling out of my hands. I switched my proactive into smaller containers, laughed at my outrageous loyalty to the system, and walked through security a half hour later without problems. We had a great flight down to Phuket. We flew in staring out the window at the water and the shoreline. As soon as we got off the plane and to where we were staying, we threw our bags into our bungalow’s and we were out on the beach.

Today we head to an island outside of Phuket to spend the next six days. I am actually writing on the ferry ride, which is fun. We are winding down this week, preparing to re-enter our culture. The infamous “debrief.” It is weird for me to think that in a week and a half I will be re-entering the relationships and life that I cried about leaving. I have literally dreamed about hugging my Momma and best friends. It’s an odd reality to accept that this trip is coming to an end. I have learned so much, loved so much, seen so much. I have loved this trip from the first day that Matt invited me a year ago. It has been nothing like what I thought it would be, but it has been just what God planned. I’m so thankful that we are taking time to unpack a little here, where oddly; things seem normal, before we head home. What I can say, pre-preparation, is that I have been touched and changed from this trip and that I am excited to hug my parents. J

For my prayer warriors- thank you for your incredible support for the last three months. Will you continue to pray for my team and I’s refinement and passion for the Lord. Will you pray for my buddy Court, as she has an odd Thai stomach issue, and myself- I have a nasty cold that is distracting me from where I am and making me want my Momma. Also, that the eight of us would be present for the last week and a half, and that we would walk off of the plane into America with as much preparation as possible. Thank you for reading, as always. J Can’t wait to tell stories in person.

Sleeping Beauties

Also- Just posted a new video on my facebook :) Check it out!

When I dove into Christianity, I learned that Jesus was important. It may sound like an understatement, and it is, but I was working off the basics, trying to get the gist of it all. As I started unpacking what my title of “Christian” meant, I got to know the character of Jesus. Since that point, you could say that things have changed a bit in my character, because of my knowledge of His. There is an earth shaking, eye-opening, hold-your-breath-then-gasp experience that took place when I realized that I had been communing with the God who is fully Man, and the Man who is fully God. I was hit with the reality that I didn’t have to use fancy words, but at the same time, I needed to take a second to acknowledge who it was that I was talking to throughout my day. The more I learned, the more intrigued I was.

I used to wear a necklace that was a Fender guitar pick, and I loved it so much. Engraved under the famous “Fender” print was an addition to the picks’ message; it said, “I love Jesus.” Again, understatement. In observing my walk with the Lord and walk through life, I have learned that about every month or few weeks, I am hit with a reality that opens my eyes to Jesus. Whether it is His love, His epic message, His strength and courage of dying in my place, or a new mystery that He uncovers and then leaves within my reach, I fall for Him, more and more.

As I spill this next blurb, my insides are giggly at my vulnerability to share this particular ideology of my life. However, it is not from embarrassment that my butterflies stem from. It is from an excitement to share the lesson I learned and how it all fits together.

So, for years I have thought that the best example of experiencing the love of God is in romantic relationships. I have seen Christ in friendship in my life most, and those experiences have illustrated a huge concept of what His love looks like. With that said, thinking about a different kind of relationship topping my experience thus far, that is a pretty exciting thought, yeah? As Jesus put it, the church is His bride, and we are the church. He outlined that marriage is the closest we will come to knowing His love for us (and then I said “Even more than friendship?!”.. yep!). Naturally, I have been excited about this minor detail, you know, getting to experience God through romance and marriage, and thus looked forward to the season in my life where I see, feel, and experience the love of Christ through another person. Please know that the description that you just heard was a very logical version of the excitement that usually squeals out of girls when they talk about marriage. Point being, I have been excited for something that I thought would not happen in a large extent until marriage, and “that something” being the depth of love. Well, my friends, that something came and hit me smack dab in the face today. Listen. To. This.

Today we got to go to the girls’ church with them. We met in front of their dorm at 9AM and all 53 of us piled into three pickup trucks. (If you are a real seat-belt stickler, don’t do the math). After church we went out to eat, celebrating Sarah’s (one of my fellow interns) father’s birthday (good luck tracing that one.) Following a HUGE lunch and watching the girls giggle and gorge themselves with having the CHOICE of what they wanted to eat and how much, we all packed back into the trucks. I called one of the sweet girls to sit on my lap as we made our way home, and that my friends, that is where it happened. She climbed up and clapped my hands with her own for a few minutes, and without me even knowing what was coming my way, put her head on my shoulder and drifted into a magical seven year old dream land. When I felt that she was sleeping, I tried so hard not to move and to absorb the bumps on the road, so that it wouldn’t wake her as she slept. I wanted so badly for her to be comfortable, and something inside of me was melting as I watched her sleep. I relaxed as the truck continued its journey, and just held her. The more she sunk into me, the more my heart sunk, finally settling in a deep puddle of the sappy and abundant love that I have for this girl. Before she even awoke I was writing a full analysis in my head of if this is how much I love a little girl, who isn’t even mine, then how much more does my mom love me. And if my mom loves me more than I love this girl, which seemed impossible at the moment, then SOMEHOW, God loved me and my mom, and this little tiny child, even more that all that love combined. It began to blur, trying to capture how vast and abundant His love is. When she woke up I felt like I had just been let into a sacred and precious secret. I looked at her and she swung her little pigtails and hobbled out of the truck. And that was it. Similar to what I have pictured a marriage/ God like love to feel like, I felt. Somehow, I got to skip the steps of romance, of marriage, of pregnancy and childbirth, and there I was, standing in the most brilliant rain of love, heavy with nothing else but joy, and a new understanding.

Times like this affirm that God has me right where He wants me. It puts rest to any striving that I have, wanting to dive into what the future holds. In the quiet of her small body sleeping, His whispers surface with a gentle “Be still” straight into my soul. I feel full today. I feel like the younger sister that got let into a secret that I can be trusted with. I feel loved, and I recognize, today, that God. Loves. Me.

The Angels of BHJ

I love these little girls. I have been thinking about what to blog, and as I was hugging one of my best little friends, I knew that there wasn’t a whole lot more that I could be blogging about. The girls at this orphanage have captured my heart. When my team and I travel to other parts of Thailand and leave them for a week or so, I come back awaiting their hugs. I come back excited for the language barrier, as long as I can just sit and laugh with them. Fyodor Dostoevsky said that “the soul is healed by being with children,” and I think that is true. I have learned a lot of lessons in the time that I have been in Thailand, some of them fun and exciting and some of them difficult and requiring a lot of hugs and support. Everyday that I walk out of the guesthouse, whether my lesson be easy or my face be smiling, one or more of the angels of BHJ are waiting to share their love with me.

I haven’t spent a huge amount of time around children in my life. I babysat here and there growing up, but I have always been the young one. My two older siblings and their friends were the cool big kids and I was the silly young one that followed them around. Living with children is living an entirely different life. Living with children in Thailand is like living on the moon and hanging out with aliens, but in a positive way. I really feel like it is that different to me. But I love it. Going back to Dostoevsky’s quote, I really do think that their presence is healing. It is peaceful and light. There is so much brokenness and sadness in the world that we live in, and these girls have swallowed a good mouthful of that too, but still, their presence, the aroma they put off into the world is sweet and welcoming.

I have talked a few times on here about a little baby named “Lydia.” She was the first girl at BHJ to steal my heart and replace the empty space with fresh air and toddler hugs. She made the America fast (fasting media, comfort, regular tasting food and a dry climate) bearable. About a month ago, a little girl named “An Chili” re-stole my heart. I didn’t know I was capable of falling for another tiny infant baby girl, but apparently I was. She was playing on the slack-line that one of my teammates brought and wanted to hold my hands while she bounced on it. Her creative little mind started a tradition that would be carried out every night for the next few weeks. All the little girls would hop onto the slack line, the interns would hold their hands and they would jump on it and bounce and laugh. We started to add in the detail of them jumping off the line into our arms and about the time that our biceps were growing the girls were getting bored with the game, thankfully. Since that point, we have learned new games and new ways to connect and get the girls to laugh and have fun.

With that in mind, I wish that I could lend people just a glance of tiny Lydia, or sweet sweet An Chili. As I read updates of the world around me, I wish I could share the purity of the presence of these children, or ask them to give the sad and hungry people a hug. I have gotten to experience love in a beautiful way these last two months in Thailand. It has opened my eyes to a preview of parenting, an appreciation for my own parents and the parents around me, and the innocence of a seven year olds heart.

A blurb from updating my family

It's hard to capture the last few days without pictures or actually sitting there telling the story, hand motions and all. So, I wrote to my family, attempting to give a good update, and I thought I would share what I wrote to them. As always, I'm an honest writer. If you are offended by anything in the post, my apologies. I think details are important :)

" So my team and I just got back from the jungle yesterday night. We spent five days four nights in villages and backpacked from one village to the next. It was the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen, and I have lived in Colorado for 16 years, if that says anything. I am realizing that my words are not very beautiful right now, kind of chunky. We have joked around about how we are all losing our English and not gaining Thai in return, but seriously, I am losing my English, so bare with me :) Being in the jungle was the most extreme thing I have ever done. It was difficult. I watched bugs bite me at an incredible rate, a pace I couldn't keep up with in my attempt to smack them off. My team members and I walked through grasses that towered over our heads. I listened to the sounds of their "ouches" and profanities as thorns caught our skin. We pottied in little holes and I used my proactive the whole five days, getting water from horse troughs and buckets. It was gritty. We were warned that coming to Thailand would strip us of our comforts. Eh, yeah, you could say the last two months I have been stripped. The last five days has been like peeling potatoes, me being the potato. I have gotten to such a raw point of who I am, what I stand for, what is really important. I was standing in the thickest jungle I had ever seen, watching the bugs stick their little needle noses in me and holding my shoulders thinking to myself, "I have never in my life felt so white, or so uncomfortable." That was the low point of trekking. The high point was recognizing that I was uncomfortable beyond belief, and from that point on, having my eyes wide open. I learned so much in that jungle. I love being outdoors. I love silence. I love praying. I learned that I have arrogance in the things that I think that I know, and that I actually know a whole lot less than I think. I learned that I am a product of my country, a beautiful country, but a country that preaches tolerance and arrogance to all. But, the moment that I realized that I was and am helpless was the moment that I learned that I am dependent like no other on God, on community, and that I have no leg to stand on in judgement of others. I learned the beauty in living in a village with only 5 families making up the whole population of the village. I learned the value of connecting with people, even if it takes me being uncomfortable and laying down my pride, it was so worth it. I learned that family is even more important than I thought. That hugs can ease a shaky heart. That the story of Jesus digs so much further than a free ticket into heaven or the convenience of a good church reputation. Someone threw out the question of "if believing in Jesus meant you would go to hell, would you still believe in Him? Would you still recognize belief in Him and confess it even if you knew that it would land you in hell?" And frick, that's a tough question. I believe now that I would. Pondering that question was hard, and when I was honest, it was really hard, but at this point, I think my answer would still be "Hell yeah God, I love you with everything. I don't care what that means or what the consequence is, you're it." And Dad, no, I won't be doing stupid stuff because of my belief :) God also gave an instruction manual that encourages wisdom. But yeah, as for an update, this place has stripped me. And that sounds so terrible if the only goal I was running after was comfort, but I am going for the complete opposite really, I want God. I want to learn. I want to explore. I want to be realistic about the world around me and not live with my eyes sewed shut. And that is exactly what is going on. And I couldn't be more thankful. I am thankful more than I can express for your prayers guys, they are so important. This trip as a whole is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I have never felt such deep appreciation for friendship, for words from the Lord, for creation or coffee or toilets with toilet seats and a flusher. Thank you for your love. Thanks for caring and for being and for loving God in the way that you do. Thanks for being an inspiration to me. For reminding me that Jesus walks the grounds of America too, no matter how much people insist on walking around with their eyes closed and their noses high. No matter how much people are a product of their culture, (I am so guilty of this), people have hearts and are so broken, and just freaking need some lovin'. Thank you for showing me that lovin' and even if you don't agree, nodding and supporting me. I recognize that I am a passionate 20 year old speaking with a very malfunctioning filter, and your love for me despite that is appreciated :) I guess it is hard to pinpoint one thing that I have learned, besides that it is important that we love people. It is valuable for me to actually choose God, even when it is not convenient. Trekking through the jungle is insane, and I miss you. That's what I have learned. If you are reading this, gol I miss you. Thank you again. I apologize again for my struggle with English."

I think that is the best update I have for now. I will post again soon :)

Literally just got back on to edit because my grammar was so bad. Ha

Fluid Dynamics and Savings Accounts

Point of reference number one: Laura, the co-leader of the trip I am on, asked tonight what we were learning. My answer was “fluid dynamics and saving accounts.”

Point of reference number two: My brother, Jim Ignatius, is a genius. I think he got the intellect of the family. I got the abstract picture-oriented mind and my sister got the motivated, realistic, athletic side. I adore those two. Anyways, Jim took a class a few years ago called “fluid dynamics.” He told me about it a few times and lost me within the first two sentences. Once again, I got the artsy brain, HE got the engineer brain. He didn’t like fluid dynamics, and I nodded in agreement when he said he didn’t like it. I have somehow remembered the name of his pitiful class.

Point of reference number three: I worked in Cripple Creek this last summer as a waitress. I loved my coworkers, and before I left one of my cook friends made me a CD. We had discussed a few times that I loved Jesus, and he wasn’t quite sure what he believed yet. On the CD he made me, there were a lot of songs that discussed spirituality. There were a lot of beautiful ideas inside the songs and I have the CD downloaded onto my computer that I took with me. One of the songs has a brief verse that goes something like this, “So if you love somebody, you better tell them so, you never know when they will go; if they love you back, just give thanks, can’t keep love like money in the bank.” Those lyrics have challenged and stuck with me since the first time I listened to the song two months ago.

Back to the discussion from tonight. I came to Thailand to serve the Lord, seek after His face and partner in digging out a deeper relationship with Him, while exploring and experiencing the country (And no, run-on sentences don’t exist in blogging, if you were curious J). None of the following have to do with banking or engineering classes, so naturally, my answers to the “What are you learning” question are very unnatural. But, they make sense, I promise.

As I said earlier, I never had a clue what my brother was talking about when he explained his “fluid dynamics” to me. What I do understand are dynamics. I was in band and choir enough years to consider myself a musician to some level, and dynamics are a huge part of music. And fluid, well anybody that is anybody understands fluid to some degree right? Everyone’s gotta drink water. I am learning that my relationship with God is, in essence, fluid dynamics. It is fluid like a river. Sometimes it is bursting, bursting with rage, with pressure, with joy, with peace, yes, peace can burst too. Other times it is slow, it is a trickle, it is dripping from point “a” to point “b.” It is fluid. Oh and dynamic. Dynamics are, in my opinion, the frosting on the cake in a piece of music. For those of you who do not speak band nerd, a dynamic is the volume of the piece. It changes back and forth and accents the piece as a whole in all the right places, in all the right ways. My relationship with God is dynamic. It is loud at times. The times when I am in a church hearing unbiblical preaching, the radar in my heart is going off and my insides are blaring. There are other times where I plea for answers, for clarity, and there is a whisper, “Take the next step Kelli, you know who I am, be confident in that, take the next step.” And then of course, there are the times where there is silence. I hate the silence, but I am learning the importance and even the honor of silence in an authentic relationship with Jesus. So yes, fluid dynamics.. and Jesus, the two do and can mesh.

Savings Accounts. I don’t really like savings accounts. There is never the right amount in there, they take away from what you get to spend on good coffee, and if you don’t put what you’re supposed to in there, you’re pretty much guaranteed to pay for that choice later. I decided I am going to open a new savings account when I get home, and when I get income, and I am going to name it “My dog.” Then, when I get a dog (for my graduation from Cosmo school), and my dog needs some food and maybe a collar, I can take some bucks out of that account. Genius right? I am my brother’s sister J. Anyways, back to spiritual savings accounts. I sat in front of my team and my mentor tonight and told them that I wish that I could put God’s love in a savings account. Sometimes, I have really bad days. Sometimes I hear lies about my beauty or my purpose or something that I lack confidence in, and sometimes, I believe those lies. On days where those lies become heavy in my mind, I would love to withdrawal some of that love that I have put away. On days where I don’t feel “enough” I wish I could withdrawal the exact amount of love I needed to fix the issue. But that is not the way love works, and that is not the way God works. Like the song that my friend gave to me, love doesn’t belong in a bank, it belongs on the tongue; coming out in words that affirm the truth in how people feel. It belongs on the hands of those that serve, that love in and through their service. It belongs in our hearts and overflowing in others’ hearts. I so wish that I had the control over how and when I “felt” the love of God, but I do not. I wish that He left me a trust fund of His love, and although that could be argued, it is far beyond my control. I do not control His Spirit inside of me, and I do not control Him. And the feminine grasp for control in me screams at that. The lack of control. The potential feeling of abandonment. The guarantee that I will end up in a place of desperation, depending on Him. As much as that is not my way, the way I would have it, it is His, and I can recognize that it is good, and it is right. So I guess it is more like gambling, a guaranteed win in the end, but an unpredictable journey. Who knows? Just not a saving account.

What I do know is that I love lessons. I don’t always love the learning process, but I love what I end up learning. I love that God meets us where we are, that I have a picture oriented mind and that when I pray, words and pictures pop up and suddenly things click. I love unpacking fluid dynamics and savings accounts. It is comforting to know that there is only one expectation from God to us, and that is that we believe in Him, that when He is down on one knee, asking if we will love Him back, we say yes, whatever that may bring. The rest comes, and He makes due to take us on the journey from wherever our starting point may be. You could say He uses His resources. I love the acceptance and creativity that I find in Him, and I love that I get to share these things. As always, thank you for reading, thank you for praying. This Jesus of ours, He is really something else; fluid dynamics and savings accounts. J

White Mochas and My Boyfriend

Have you ever taken a drink from a hot mug in cold weather? My first word to describe that is perfect, followed by calming, peaceful, and relaxing. I have come to realize that living overseas is uncomfortable. I do not mean that as a complaint, really, because I love it here and I feel alive here, but honestly, it is different; hot, humid, spicy and buggy. It’s something that takes some getting used to, and when you get sick of getting used to it, you dream about the comforting things in life.

I have recalled the scenario of a h

ot beverage on a cold day about 15 times in the last 2 weeks. Thailand has some fabulous coffee, but it is a different feel than, well, you know, the usual. Usually at this time of the year I am studying my rear off, outside of a starbucks or local coffee joint, bundled up and chugging down knowledge with a mocha. I have one coffee date set up upon arrival, and just that gets my heart pumpin'. What God has been doing lately is really sweet. If we were dating I would call Him the best boyfriend ever. I giggle at the discomforts in Thailand because I think it is an appropriate response; being angry will not change the situation and letting it stress me out or miss home doesn’t do anything positive for my psyche, so I giggle, and it makes it feel more adventurous. Back to my Boyfriend. He has been throwing these hot beverages in cold weather at me, not literally, but the equivalent of what that does to my heart, He has been delivering.

The first care package went a little like this: About two weeks ago my team and I went on a activity packed day with a touring company, you may have read a little bit about it in my last post. Part of the day consisted of an hour-long trek up to this waterfall. It was fun to be outside and hiking, and besides learning the difference between a jungle and a forest, we felt right at home. We hiked and wiped our damp foreheads and every once and a while, we would have to cross over the creek. There were adorable little bridges, made from bamboo and different wood, and our tour guide would offer his hand like a true lad to assist us across the creek. As sweet as that

was, I was boiling, so I just walked across the creek. It was flowing just fast enough that I needed to watch it, “it” being me not falling over, and the temperature difference between the air and the water was the perfect equivalent of a hot mocha on a Colorado fall day.

The second little gift was just as refreshing. When we were in Chiang Mai, the same week as the trek day, we decided to stay back at the hostel and hang out with just our team for a night. Now feel free to laugh at this. If the question, “Don’t they hang out as a team everyday and night” popped into your head, you are correct. BUT, we felt like we needed to avoid the world and be buddies. So we did. That’s the fun thing about being a big kid, living on your own, living in a community: you can make those decisions. At about midnight I remembered that the day before, a close friend of mine had been on my mind a lot. Those days of “having someone on my mind” freak me out. I always think something bad happened or they are lonely or I should be there with them. That’s the anxiety in me speaking, and I recognize that, so I prayed for her and talked about her a lot and smiled at the thoughts of her. I know that doesn’t really seem like a “gift” but it’s coming. So the day that I was thinking about her a bunch I wanted to call her, but I couldn’t because a lot of the day was planned out and it didn’t work out. However as we were hanging out as a family at the hostel, I remembered that I saw an overseas calling shop just down the street. Courtney (a fellow intern and great friend) and I walked down and chatted with the man that worked the overseas calling joint, and after a pleasant, semi-confusing conversation, I got in a little phone booth, on the inside of the store, and called that girl up. Hearing her voice was like stepping in the creek on our trek. It was needed, refreshing, and the catalyst for a deep breath and a few happy tears.

There are two more of these little, “love notes on the car” scenarios. They speak of the concern that Jesus has for me. That even though discomfort can “grow and stretch” a believer, and it has been, my Boyfriend knows the small comforts that I need, and I appreciate Him for that.

The girls at the orphanage are beautiful. That is something that will never change. They have long healthy black hair and dark skin to boot. I’m thankful for their ever-present beauty, because it is easy to see God’s fingerprints on such pieces of art. The hard thing about my darling sisters is that they speak Thai. The language barrier has taken a hold of our relationships and offered us something of a wall in the last week. Like we’re talking Great Wall of China status. We say “hello” and “how are you” and smile and hug, but we are desperate to go deeper. Speaking for myself, I thrive off of deep relationships. I love talking about things that matter, talking about what brings joy and what we hate and how we can solve “the problems of the world.” Those are fulfilling conversations for me, and I want them with my girls here. These girls have suffered a lot. They don’t have Mommas. Just that right there would be enough to break me, but it goes on. They live with 42 other girls. They deal with the regular school issues, bullying, not feeling pretty enough, trying to find their voice in the world. Girls juggling these things, not just here but in the states as well, they need some lovin’. They need conversations, in my opinion. Need to feel important and special and pursued. They need some large doses of Jesus.

My team, as a whole, has been struggling with this language barrier junk. We want in. I have found that throughout my walk with the Lord, it is in the times that I find myself walking in desperation that He moves just slow enough that I can see the tip of His robe as He rounds the corner. I see Him move. I get a glimpse of a realm that is above me, and it is cool. We welcomed a team from Texas on Sunday, and they are sweet as pie. If you don’t know this about me, I love southern people, so having Texans here is a blessing. But, STAYING on TOPIC, they are here, and the timing is impeccable. We are pooped, frustrated, and trying to push through the Thai language. They are fresh from the states, pumped, motivated, and ready to go. They bring a whole new and exciting element to the orphanage, mother and fatherly love, as they are adults, and gol, I so want that for the girls. All in all, it’s perfect. They couldn’t have come at a better time, and God could not have planned it better. Once again, mocha in the snow. My Boyfriend is the best.

I feel like I am bragging to go on much further, but this is the last one, promise. J My parents are two of my best friends. They are supportive, open-minded, and wise. I didn’t talk to them for about three weeks because they took a trip to Italy and surrounding areas. (Such romantics, I know J). On Sunday night, I realized how much I was missing them, I think I said a quick, “God I miss my parents” prayer and kept on. After dinner with the girls, I decided talking with them was a necessity, so I got online. It was about seven at night my time, so 6am their time. I thought, “Oh my Dad will be up in a half hour, I’ll just facebook until then.” False. At 10:00pm my time and after recruiting two of my facebook friends to call my parents we got to talk for a good hour and a half. It was like, ah, it was a mocha on a winter day. It was perfect. It was needed. I love my Boyfriend.

I’m off to dinner now with the BHJ girls, the Texas team, and my team of interns. Thank you for reading and thank you for your continued prayers. Feel free to put away a few bucks to take me out for a mocha in December, and I will tell you more J Love Kelli.

Extremities- Living in a postcard, speaking in a bumper sticker

I have been in Thailand for a month. It’s been the longest I have ever been over-seas.. and the longest I have gone in a while without hugging my Mommy. Thankfully, I am under fabulous leadership. I am with a team that breathes vulnerability and speaks from a heart of grace and words of love. I am serving a God who says that I am enough, even my darkest moments.. and I am residing in a country that is a territory of darkness, and titled “the land of smiles.”

I titled this post “extremities” because the last month, but more so the last week, has been incredibly extreme. I have felt extreme happiness, extreme fear, extreme excitement, extreme sadness and have exercised faith in an extreme of existence: surrender.

The happiness came and cornered me every time I took a moment to stop and think about how awesome my life status is currently. I live in Thailand, with six besties, two older sibling rock star mentors, and under a God who loves love so much He created it. Extreme, right? I feel blessed, lucky, and when it comes down to it, completely undeserving, but I will get to that later. Point being, Thailand is beautiful, and even more beautiful is the way that God has orchestrated this trip.

Fear. Oh fear. Last Monday, my team, our leader, and myself drove an hour outside of the city we were living in and spent three hours jumping off of platforms, zipping down strong cords into a lush green jungle. We screamed and laughed and made more noise than the orphanage produces in a year. It was so fun. I’m scared of heights, so it was scary if I thought about how high I was, but it was so fun, so crazy and so packed with adrenaline that I couldn’t stop to think about the danger potentially involved.

The next day we went to a “fish spa,” and dunked our feet into a small fish habitat, located on the inside of a mall, and giggled as they noshed on our dead skin, exfoliating the surface of our skin. More funny than scary, but still different and weird and extreme in its own way.

After a day of down time spent between the hostel we were staying at and our favorite coffee shops, we were off to the day of extreme excitement. It started with a 25 minute long ride to an “orchid farm.” Now you have to understand, just driving here is an adventure, if you’re in Thailand. The orchids were pretty and I was still half asleep, and then we got back in the truck and drove to one of the coolest places I have ever been.. ever. It was a small village with five families total that lived there. We pulled up and a small and sweet Asian woman sold us some bananas for 20 baht. Then we drove for another 5 minutes and what do we see walking next to our truck, like within reach? AN ELEPHANT. We got to the actual village, waited a few minutes and then mounted the elephants. MOUNTED. As in, we rode the most precious animals. We laughed and smiled with our mouths open because we couldn’t even talk. We got to sit on its head and then go up onto the seat if we wanted. It was so stinking cool, I can’t even explain. When we finished our ride with the elephants, we drove to a trail head and started and hour long trek. We ate pad thai for lunch in a single standing wooden building on the top of a big hill and then continued onward. We hiked over a river and through the trees.. J.. and then finally got to a BEAUTIFUL giganto waterfall that was magnificent and huge. We drank some water at the top and hung out for a bit and then started back down.. You would think it would end there, but no. THEN, we went to a little river side shack and got suited up for white water rafting. (Which p.s. is not to white because it is Thailand, so it looks like the chocolate milk rivers in Willy Wonka J) When we got the instructions on how to listen to our guide, a torrential down pour began to cover us, and the river, and everything else. But, as soon as we got the right life jackets on, we hopped in the river and went on one of the craziest rides of my life. Still not done. We met up about a mile later down the river with a bamboo raft and jumped onto it, then rode it down the end of the river portion. The night ended with seeing an English speaking movie (which is a real treat), ice cream from McDonalds, and talking with Rachel, one of my best girl friends in Woodland. If that isn’t exciting, I don’t know what is.

Rewinding a few nights prior to that, we decided to prayer walk one of the red light streets. That is where extreme sadness hit. What I saw is hard to put down in words. I would rather describe my heart and its broken condition than the victims of poverty, walking in desperation, and doing what they can to survive. The girls out there are my sisters. My equivalent. My age, my gender.. and in more of a hopeless life situation than I will probably ever understand. They are attacked with the poverty they have grown up with, disabled by their lack of education, and just like me, just like all of us, doing what they can to survive. They are bought by the same root of brokenness, but a different bloom of desperation. They are bought by men that are broken. Men that are drowning in their need for an escape, a fix. And then they engage in something that was created to be intimate and holy, and further their cracks of dependence on this broken, broken system.

I didn’t see men covering their tan line from their wedding ring, or wiping their eyes from the pain going on inside. I didn’t see the girls growing up in villages and I don’t pretend to know their stories. All I know is that there is a severe brokenness in this place. What I did see were the red tinted bars. The girls and their cat calls. The smallest skirts I have ever seen on the smallest, most beautiful girls that I wanted to cover. Which leads me into the next and final extreme. The extreme of surrender.

I found myself back at the hostel within a half hour of being in the girls’ presence, and the common theme between how my team was feeling was “puke.” The reality of life here is so filthy that it was making us sick to believe it. It was making us angry at the system, at the men, at the girls, at the.. something. Anything. It’s just not right. The following night we were at Matt and Laura’s house. We started our debrief and within five minutes we were all weeping. How can things get that bad? Why can’t someone fix this? Why can’t God swoop down and rescue the girls from their desperate need for money, rescue the men from there desperate case of emptiness? Matt ended up speaking the truth straight into our hearts. This world is broken. One country over there is genocide going on, murdering hundreds and hundreds because of a difference in ethnicity. Here there are women selling themselves on the streets because they want to feed their child, and they need to eat. In America there is a disease of being lukewarm, of seeing the world as “not to bad” and seeing ourselves as independent enough to not need any God. The globe is plagued with brokenness, and not one of us is worthy of lifting their nose at the other. We are a broken people. But.. then there is our God. Our God who for SOME REASON, chooses us. Chooses to save babies in America from being uneducated, chooses to save babies in Africa from being consumed in material possessions. I don’t know what He has saved babies in Thailand from, not yet, but He has placed each one of us with incredible intention. The extreme surrender came in when I realized that if I was born in Thailand 20 years ago instead of America, if I had no education, no training or skill, and had a drive in me to keep breathing, those girls’ stories would be my own. I am nothing more than a story of salvation. A story that shows that God loves His people, He can rescue, He can heal, He can teach and produce change and shake the earth. My surrender came when I realized that this is ALL about Him.

To say the least, I feel that Thailand is changing me. An awareness of the harsh realities occurring in the world around me has shifted my thinking. I wish I could be superman and rescue my sisters off the street, but what I am is a beloved child of God. I am no superman, I am no all holy person. I am a redeemed child, and Him using me would be His power, and my honor. I surrender to being powerless without Christ. I surrender to trusting that He’s got it, no matter how much sometimes it may seem like He fell asleep on the job. And, I surrender to Him, that when it’s time to go Jason Bourne on the darkness and screwed up system of this country and this world, I am all in, and I know with 100% confidence that I am on the right team. Team Jesus. All the stinkin’ way.

So, this week has been extreme. All kinds of extreme. I write these last few words on my bunk back at the orphanage, and after a week in the city of Chiang Mai, and it is good to be home in the silence. Please pray for the girls at the orphanage, for a bright and hopeful future, for the health and energy of my team and myself, and the deep brokenness of the world that we live in. Thank God that God is in control, and this weight does not have to be ours, but if we can, let’s change the world, yeah? Thank you for reading. Thank you for praying. Thank you for having a heart for the world around you.

Kelli :)

Thailand Rain

Default: Had some issues with pasting and keeping the correct spacing, I think I got most of the words split, but if not, bear with me!

There is a problem here in Thailand:
it rains.
Now-hold that thought.
The culture here is so darn different. It is beautiful, it’s spicy,it’s slow, and it is Buddhist. As I explained earlier, parents don’t want their kids, so they get rid of them, and then the kids end upgoing into the street. From the street, people with huge hearts and passionate love for Jesus come and take them off the street. Then the kids go to a home. Then there are a bunch of kids, without parents, without individual attention and there are only funded if they’re lucky, (and in a home.) And this is a problem. The leaders of my program have talked about this as a “Band-Aid on a wound.” There is alot larger of a problem going on than what we are dealing with here at the orphanage. It’s not that the orphanages aren’t doing well,although some of the many are not. It’s not that the Jesus lovers aren’t dreaming in big enough ways, which typically is not theproblem. The problem starts in a similar place to where it begins; the villages.

Going back to the rain. My buddy here, Courtney, asked us to pray for the rain tonight. She is so frustrated with smelling bad. We sweat hard and in large quantities when we do physical work, and pretty much every other time of our Thai lives. Like normal people, we get our clothes together and go down to the washing machine. We go through the typical process of washing our clothes and then take them to the line to hang up. About an hour later, it rains. And let me tell you,Thailand rain comes down hard. We joke about having a setting on an alarm clock as “Thai rain.” It is amazing to go to sleep to, and even better to wake up to. However, that junk stinks. Thai rain could most definitely be a purchased sound, but it would never make it as a scent. So, we wash our clothes that are badly in need of washing, hang them up in their cleanliness, and then notice them getting drenched as we run inside when the rain hits. And then, our clothes stink. About an hour later comes the next point in the process, we bring theclothes into the house and hang them on the bunk bed ladders, on the fan, on the door; wherever we can put them really. About 24 hours later, they are dry, firmly starched and smelling similar to when we started the laundering cycle. Thankfully, we came here prepared, or somewhat prepared to have comforts, like fresh smelling clothes andbodies, taken away, therefore it’s not that big of a deal. I mean,it’s just clothes, and it’s just scent.

The issue with the parentless children though, that is a big deal. It is similar to this laundry issue in that it is a seemingly downward spiral. Child homes take in kids and have issues of their own. Girls go into prostitution. Homes get over populated. There are not enough towels for all the girls, whatever. And then back to the beginning of all of this: parents keep giving their kids away.The process is enough to make you crazy. What do you go after first in trying to fix this? Play your role as the intern that teaches danceand smile through the experience? Do your part as the director and weed out the business aspect? Tackle the many projects that come at you? But what about the process that is continuing? It is bigger than just construction projects and providing for the angels we currently have. But we have to walk forward in our duty that we are assigned to.The position we signed up for. You can see how this gets messy quick,yeah? Any step in this whole thing is enough to make you hurt on these kids behalf, to have your heart broken. And it just keeps spiraling. Now, we know full well that these 42 beautiful girls at the orphanagewe are a part of are better off here than they would be in their village, just as we know that our clothes are better off after they have been through the washing process, even if we do question it sometimes. We will continue to love on these girls and do everythingin our power to make their lives full, happy, healthy, and filled with Jesus, just as we will continue to wash these stinky clothes. It is frustrating when we hit walls with our girls in communication and just sit and look at each other, just as it is frustrating when we check on our clothes and they are hard and crusty, but you push forward in those situations, get over it and deal. We are going to put up a drying line inside the house tomorrow, after some good man thought(accredited to Ben, another intern) similarly- we hope to come across ways to fight this broken system. But it continues to rain. And parents continue to give their kids away. And it seems never ending. Ugh.

BUT, you know, we have faith. We love Jesus, not just as a statement or a slogan, but really, we are obsessed with our God. We believe that He works in broken systems, in broken people, in a fallen world. He adores the 42 girls we get to be around, and He adores every kid thatis abandoned on the street. Those are some positives, lets not forget that the rain does have a nice sound, right? At least our 42 gals get 3 meals a day, yeah? That there is some purpose, some something. We will stick with this no matter how hopeless the “system” seems, because we have hope in our God. And on behalf of my team I will ask you to please pray also. Pray with us that the spinning will stop. The feeling is similar to a dog chasing its tale. We can argue every point. We can be discouraged, too easily. But then quiet whispers come to mind, like the one that says even if the cross were just for one of us, just for me and no one else, He still would have done it. If Jesus dying on the cross were only to save you,He still would have died on your behalf. Even if it were 42 out ofthe seemingly endless population in need, Christ would have given His life for just them, and if that is enough for Him, than it is enough for us. Pray that God would keep us dreaming of solutions. Pray that He would keep us filled with hope. Pray that He would move. Pray that He would deepen the wells in our hearts of faith and Love. Pray that we would connect deeply to these girls here. It’s good to know that He is in control. ☺ And it is good to have you on the team. Thank you-dear friends.

Fun Video!

I had a lot of fun making this! Hope you enjoy!

A lesson learned a lesson shared

So I wanted to write a blog about God stuff. I mean, really, it’s all God stuff. BUT, when you read your Bible and you pray, God teaches you stuff, and more than anything else, I think what He has been teaching me is worth sharing. Also, as a little default- please know that I am honest. I am going to be honest and I think that if I was to sugar coat struggle so that I sounded more spiritual or for any other reason, I would be jippin’ the lessons that God has taught me, jippin’ the pain that I have felt, and jippin’ the growth that has come out of it all. So, please read into my heart with grace and just know that I am not one to sugar coat, not worth the jip. Thank you J

My biggest question for the last few months has been, “In the darkest points of people’s lives, why does God keep silent?” It is no guarantee that He will keep silent at these times, but I have watched it happen, have had it happen to me, and have read about it happening, and I don’t like it. The promises that I have heard about God are ones such as these:

God will not leave you, will not forsake you. God loves you. God is a comforter and a healer. God is faithful. God is a save place to put your heart, to find your identity in. You know, the ones that everyone else knows, nothing out of the ordinary.

With those known and stated, I put my trust in them when I first came a believer. Whether I like to admit it or not, I was clinging to the prosperity gospel. And then, everything crashed. This was all about a year ago, but I have been jaded from the experience. I thought that things that bad things should not happen to Christians. That we were safe once we were saved. Kind of silly, I know, but that is what I had grown up snacking on in my faith. Who knew that everyone who had given their life to Christ actually still struggles, kind of lot actually. At my darkest point of sorrow and confusion, I was thinking that I must have said the sinner’s prayer wrong, because I shouldn’t be feeling like this if I was a Christian. I was devastated when I also did not hear from the Lord. Everything in the world could go wrong if I had the strength of God holding me up, keeping me firm, directing me and drowning me in His love, but I did not feel that either. I felt like at the darkest point of life, I was abandoned.

I remember at that I time I read through the Psalms that King David had written in the Bible. I read the book of Job. I read Jeremiah, I talked to my friends and all of these things had one thing in common: they understood where I was. King David writes psalm after psalm about feeling alone, pleading for God to say something. Job watches his family crash, his business, his health, his everything. He cries out to God and is returned with a big bucketful of silence. Jeremiah refers to God as a seasonal stream (sometimes there and sometimes nowhere to be found (Jere 15). These things are not comforting. People that love and adore God, that give their whole lives to Him walk through a hard time, cry out to the one that “never leaves” and hear nothing back. Yikes.

So that is the problem I was wrestling with. The question that held its hand was “why.” My dad used to say that “why” meant, “let’s argue.” That is exactly what I have been doing with God. J

The why’s go all over the place, but usually end in a tear packed whisper of, “Why didn’t I hear you?” It was awful to put my life and my heart in God’s hands and when I needed a parting of the clouds, an audible voice, a SOMETHING, I heard nothing. Ouch.

So I have been asking this question while I have been here in Thailand. What I have gotten back is pretty remarkable. I was first lead to Jesus on the cross. The fact that the cross was for me. That the love of God goes to the extent of being willing to die on another’s behalf, and beyond. I read on to see Jesus, you know, JESUS, the perfect one, ask His Father the same question that I asked.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” –Matthew 27:46, Psalm 22:1

And why would JESUS say that? Like seriously. Did He too, in His darkest hour, feel abandoned? First off, I am glad for His honesty. I’m glad that He doesn’t spew off some glory verse, but rather that of a cry. He chooses to be honest, vulnerable, and identifies with broken people in the world, that He is in the middle of saving. This shows me the way that God works. This was kind of a common thing; these people feeling alone, feeling in need of God, and not hearing back. As much as I want to say to God, “You know, God, I love you, but I disagree with your letting people feel abandoned in their darkest hour…” I realize something. He wants us to choose Him. He says He won’t give us more than we can handle, and sometimes we think that is a total load, but HE KNOWS. He warned us that this life would be rough and tough, He told us to keep our hope in the truth that He won. We can be scared or uncomfortable or even doubting in the moment, but remember how the story ends. He taught that our character was more important than our comfort, and that he was smitten when His people choose Him even in the most awful circumstances. To choose Him regardless of what we feel, whether or not we hear Him, whether or not it is cool or easy to continue onward.

That He wants us to choose Him. Even when everything is crashing.

I see this similar to when the Dad of a middle school girl drops here off at school. It’s not cool to kiss your Dad before you go. It is seriously almost painful depending on how important your social status is. And the Dad understands, He doesn’t ask, doesn’t call after His girl if she doesn’t kiss Him goodbye. He takes in her smile and her quick “Bye Dad,” and watches his little one run off. He sits in the parking lot for just a minute and watches her and then put his car into gear. She walks towards the school and decides that against all odds and judgment, that kissing her Daddy goodbye is worth it. She runs to the car before he leaves the lot and gets him before he heads off to work. You know that that Daddy’s heart is smiling.

I think this is how God is with us, with me anyways. In the hard stuff, maybe even harder than middle school, J He is still right there in the lot, still watching us. No matter how much it flat out sucks, He is still there, No matter how much we want a prosperous, joy-packed life, our Pops knows what is best. And, no matter how much we disagree with the way things are playing out or have played out in the past, God has it, and it’s never something big enough to abolish communication with Him about. But more than anything else, it is always going to be our choice to choose Him. We can choose that He sucks for not answering our call when it is an emergency and He knows it, that we don’t want anything to do with Him anymore. But deciding that we are going to keep our faith in a God that is sometimes silent in our eyes, even though in reality He is right there, continuing to choose Him makes Him smile.

Blah. That was a lot, I know. I hope that it makes sense because this is a lot of my learning crammed into one blog. But it is clear in the end. God wants to be chosen, and that He works it all into something better, stronger, more fierce and genuine.

Blissfully Untitled

This post is a little different than the others. I don’t have any blistering conviction to share, any one particular thing to point out except the broad umbrella statement that I am in Thailand. And I love it.

Our entire team is here now and there is a sense of complete among us. I sometimes go down the path of pitying Ben, our only boy, but then I look at the six outstanding girls he is surrounded with and realize that he is one lucky guy.

Our first group “project” was this morning, and the task was to lead church. Luckily, we have two guitar players, Ben and myself, three dancers; Natalie, Arizona and I, two artists; Nat and Caitlin, and all of us have taken a part in Young Life, at some point in our lives. SO, put all that crazy talent together, seven Young Life trained young adults and power them with the love of Jesus.. it was a pretty awesome service. We sang songs with body motions, performed a skit, taught and had 42 precious little eyeballs on us, soaking in the truth and love of Jesus’ teachings. There are few things in life that I find such purpose in.

From Friday onward, since the entire team has been here, we have been working through our orientation. The first night we went to a Bed and Breakfast (Most upscale hostel EVER), and listened as Matt unpacked the culture of Thailand, and what this trip was going to look like. We all adore Matt and thoroughly respect his vulnerability in his teaching. He challenged us with questions and flooded our curious minds with knowledge.

One of the things that I learned working on Summer Staff for Young Life last summer, was that something amazing happens when you allow people to know who you are, and accept the love that they offer. I asked Matt if we could all tell our life stories, in order to know the backgrounds of each other, and to better be able to understand our team, and he loved the idea. So, on the second day of orientation, we started our stories. It has been really amazing to listen and to know our team to such a great extent in the first three days.

Last night, we went to an authentic Northern Village style dinner. All of us gals dressed up and wore makeup and it was a blast. We all packed into the 15-passenger van and rode about 15 minutes into town from the orphanage. The night was full of really different food (it wasn’t my favorite, but great experience), dancing, and great conversation.

After some mad training at Pikes Peak Community College, I feel confident that I have a leg to stand on in at least watching dance, so last night was so fun in that aspect. I loved watching the performances throughout the night. In Thailand, the head of the body is very special, thought to be the cleanest and most important part. As you move down the body, the value, if you will, goes down. The foot of the body is not even okay to be touched and these thoughts are fully supported with threats of bad luck. These things may seem silly to Americans, but the deep roots Thailand has in Buddhism keeps Thai people aware of what will bring luck and what will somewhat curse them if they do not play by the rules. With that said, and with that knowledge in mind, I watched the dancers and how their beliefs rubbed off into their movement. In ballet, which is at the heart of a lot of movement that I have worked with, feet add to the delicacy and detail of the piece. The intentionally placed pointed toe completes a flawless leap or turn. A flexed foot communicates so much differently than that of a pointed toe. The women last night switched the focus from feet to hands, 100%. There feet just kind of flapped, which was beautiful in their context, and their hands twirled and spread and told a story of their own. It was flawless. And different. Worlds apart, literally, from the dancing that I know. And I just loved their work, and continue to just love what I am seeing here.

A few months back, one of my best buddies back home, Rachel, and myself went to the broadmoor for coffee. While acting super fancy and like we naturally belonged in a place such as the broadmoor, we decided it made complete sense to go all the way, and go in their jewelry store. So, strutting in there in our school clothes, which were nothing fancy, we went in and asked politely if we could try on the most expensive ring that they had. I have a picture on my old phone of Rachels hand being weighed down by a ten thousand dollar ring. It was beautiful, and silly, and fun. That night, I decided to look online and find what ring I wanted when I got married. Now we all know that I am single, and this is simply a dream, but I am a girl, and that is what we do, so humor me. I somehow got over to a Tiffany and Co. website, and man do I pity my future man saying this, but I totally found my dream ring. From that point on, I have had a mild LOVE for Tiffany’s. With that, I knew that in Thailand they had fabulous knock-offs, and I wanted something Tiffany’s SO BAD. I thought maybe I should buy my engagement ring and then sell it to my Hus when the time came J but decided against it. Anyways, we were walking through a market the other day, and guess what we walked right past? A WHOLE STAND that sold Tiffany’s junk! It was so awesome! I got a beautiful bracelet for 260 Baht, which is around 8 US dollars. I will forever cherish it J

Tonight we will start our house competition, which are seven teams (one American team captain per six girls) that will be competing together in silly relay games that we come up with. We will also start spending time regularly with “our girls” and continue to be a consistent part of their life for the next eleven weeks. Things like that make you have to say that God is good.

Tomorrow our first physical work project starts, which will be hot, and hard. Shoveling mud in 90ish degree weather, yeah. I really can’t wait though. I love it here so much. I love working with a paintbrush and a shovel and doing work that is dedicated to the LORD. Working along side of a team that also loves Jesus, and doing these things that will last. This work next to my working as a waitress just doesn’t even compare. I love this. Love the girls I am with, and Ben haha, love the precious angels here at the house, and am smitten with the God that I am here with, serving Him and walking with side by side.

Thank you for your prayers. Please pray for the girls here to open up and to feel a heavy amount of love coming onto them. Pray that we could pick up on Thai to talk to them without a translator. Pray that we would have strength in our wrestling with God on the questions of why there have to be 42 DARLING girls without mommies. Pray that we could be light, that we could be filled from God and that His name would be stamped across our foreheads. The preaching the gospel without words concept. Thank you for reading, and thank you for praying. J

A Nation of Parent-less Children

Thailand- an orphaned nation

So, I came to this place thinking that I was going to be spending three months with 42 orphans. Truth. I came here thinking that the girls at the orphanage were orphaned by both parents, or forcibly orphaned by a mom who was remarried. Truth. I came here thinking the orphan situation was pretty similar in Thailand to the rest of the world, no more or less than any other place. Pretty true to my knowledge. I came here thinking that when a mother has a child, they love them and want to stand with them for life, raise them daily, document their first word, first hiccup and the name of their first boyfriend. That they want to be a part of their child’s life. I shudder as I write the reality of this one, but false. This is painfully false. I am living in a nation of orphaned children.

I came here with such a spoiled outlook on parenting and the love of a parent to their child, and I am so crushed at what the reality is. I remember going off to my first year of college and talking to my mom almost every day. I thought she might be getting sick of me calling her all the time until she clarified one day that she took pride in being a mother, and that it “made her day” getting to talk me. The fact that me interrupting her agenda at work made her day. That as she may be getting snotty looks at work for taking the third call from me that day to answer a question about the life of an adult, and that that same call made her day. My mom is so very much in love with me, and she has unknowingly set the standard for other mommas in the world so high.

But then I look at other Mommas in America that I have seen first hand. My best friend Jessi, her mom waking up in the middle of the night to put aloe on her sunburn. My girlfriend Sarah’s momma crying as she sent us off at the airport. My buddy Andrew’s momma willing to write a book about his experiences from a mission. Their hearts are just swelled when their baby’s walk in the room. They love so hard, so unconditionally, so intensely. They have momma bear protection capabilities and anaconda squeezing abilities. Their love for their children is just through the roof, and so beautiful, and so.. in my eyes, what it should be.

This isn’t the reality of motherhood in Thailand. If a mom is remarried in Thailand, the culture is accepting of the new husband to completely disown any daughters from the previous marriage. If the mom fights it, there is a potential for the mom herself to be put out on the street, and women are not lot likely to make it alone here. Supporting herself and her daughter(s) is next to impossible. So, in a survival mode, she holds her breath and unplugs her emotion and conscious and kisses her girls goodbye. And that’s it. Now as much as I want to scream at the woman in this scenario, my heart goes out to her, because her choice is so very difficult. Starve with your kids and watch them suffer as you have no strength to comfort them, or take what you can, walk away from the rest and be provided for.

My siblings and I used to ask these really disgustingly hard questions of if we had to choose between best friend number one and best friend number two to live, and if we didn’t choose both would die, whom would we choose? Really gross, I know. However, I remember the terrible feeling I had trying to think of a rational way to answer the theoretical question. This question or situation isn’t theoretical for these mothers. It is real, and as much as I hear their hearts cracking in making the decision, they are trying to make the best choice they can. I honestly could not imagine.

With that said, I feel like I can argue on these women’s behalf for their position. What comes next is to me, unjustifiable.

Laura, the incredible woman I get to be associated with for the next three months, has lived here in Chiang Mai for five months. She has learned some Thai and shopped in a Thai market for her family and conquered the terrifying transportation system here. Stopping at the transportation system, and adding in the detail of her being able to communicate, she gets to talk to people on the “Song tows.” (Song means “two” and tow means ‘bench.” This is a truck with two benches in the back.) One day Laura was riding the song tow into town and was having a conversation with a Thai lady. She managed to get across what she and her husband Matt were doing with the girls at the orphanage; essentially raising them with education, housing, safety and love. When Laura finished her explanation, the woman asked if she would take her kids to the house. Now stop for just a second, please. Reread what I just said. This lady wanted Laura to TAKE HER KIDS. Just take them. People from where I come from FIGHT for their kids. They have custody battles, go through courts, and have visiting rights. When DHS takes kids away from unfit homes, parents go nuts, they call them baby stealers and freak out. And then here is this woman, in the back of a truck, asking Laura if she will take her kids and raise them. Is this weird and awful to anyone else?

I remember again, my first year in college when I was first supporting myself. Bills suck. They were not my favorite gift of being a big kid. I remember wanting to get a doggy, and knowing that I couldn’t afford it, but if I got one, we would do it all together, and somehow I would make it work. Now I understand that kids are more than dogs. That I had a better paying job than most women here in Thailand have, if they have any job at all. That I had more opportunity to “make it work.” But how, how is this justified in their heads.

So, I thought maybe this lady was just a crazy when I first heard this story, but then it got worse. Matt told me that that is very normal here. That people are dying to give away their kids. They want to give them to the orphanage I am at, for us to raise them and get the free schooling. They will put the kids in monasteries when they are seven because they will take care of the kids for a while, fed them, school them, raise them. Matt got it through my skull that parents want to give their kids away, and I have worked on justifying it and putting myself in their shoes, but I just don’t understand; how do you not want your children. Not just one horrifying story of poverty and inability, not just one story of a parent that left and the remaining parent just needed a boost for a while, but a nation. A nation that is willing to orphan their children. That is ready to give them away.

Matt interviewed a woman yesterday for a position here at Breanna’s and learned that her two kids are in other child homes in Chiang Mai. I wondered if I was in a home because my momma couldn’t care for me, what she would do. I decided that, based off of her love for me J, she would work her tail off to work at the home I was at, as her occupation, so that she would be near to me. Because she loves me. Because she would want to help raise me and watch me grow up. But this woman was at an orphanage down the road interviewing, and my heart broke for her babies.

I realize that life is hard, that birth control is far in the distance in this country, and that abstinence is unheard of. What I don’t get is why parents are unplugged from their emotions, and willing and happy to give their babies away. To meet a woman on a bus and within 60 seconds offer to give away a child. It is a harsh, harsh reality, that the nation I am a part of, every child in this land, besides the American babies I am living with, are essentially- orphaned. Maybe they still live with the mom trying to give them away, maybe their mom just got remarried, maybe they already are living in a home or wearing the orange monk suit. But based off of what this culture has offered to share, the diagnosis is that parents want out, and children are unwanted. Ugh. May we pray for these kids…

I could go on forever with this. Looking at the psychological aspect of it, the attachment factor, the way that it trickles into the way that the kids and the entire culture looks at the Gospel and importance of Jesus, it’s just upside down. I’m going to end my blog as my mind continues to search for justification. Please pray for these girls. Pray for the hearts of the kids here in Thailand. The inescapable reality that they are not wanted, and how that will affect who they are, and how they will live the rest of their lives.

Wise words of the Everly Brothers, "Dream dream dream..."

Dream Dream Dream.

Sarah and I were eating toast this morning in the guesthouse and analyzing the world. Something new for the two of us. I started out asked her what she was feeling. We have to ask these questions frequently right now, being overseas and in a completely new place, it’s just healthy. So, she was unpacking this question a little something like this,

“You know, I just feel like a five year old in awe of the world around me. I can’t read the street signs, the only way I can communicate is to smile, there is a monkey in the wall next to us, and really, I’m just in awe.”

The lights flickered again, making their 2-minute rounds and holding to their routine as she was speaking. Right as she was finishing, the wall monkey started his screaming and I ran over to the wall with a water bottle, hitting the place that I thought he was sitting. I went back and sat down and we just laughed. It is so blatantly clear that we are in Thailand. None of our many talks have ever had this twist to them in the past.

Our talk continued forward into what was brewing in me. So, little background knowledge, one of the big purposes of this trip is to be silent, internationally, and listen for what God will speak over our lives in regards to how we should live them, and what we should do. I have had the plan for about eight months to go to cosmetology school next July, so I didn’t really come seeking direction, career wise anyways. WELL, yesterday, Matt was talking about the many requirements that the government holds for child homes to be considered official orphanages. One of them was to have an on staff psychologist. This seriously shocked me. SHOCKED ME. I told Matt that my Associates degree that I am getting soon will be in psychology, because we kind of get to pick what our focus is that will be written on the degree, and I LOVE psychology, and that I could be the psychologist for the orphanage.

Now if you don’t already know this, I am a dreamer, and a joker. I love psychology, so the dreaming side of me would love to be a counselor. However, the rational side of me knows that I despise being in school, and I just could not make it for another 8 years to get my Masters or Doctorates. I picked cosmetology school because it was 13 months, a good skill to have, and I could make people feel beautiful, and do some psych work in my chair.

Back to the conversation with Matt, I told him if he needed me to hop over and be their psychologist that I was their girl. He asked about the degree and such and then said that education was hard to come by in Thailand, and that an American Associates degree would probably do it.

This is insanity to me. Not that I am planning to move here full time for the rest of my life and be the orphanage psychologist, but just that it is even possible. I don’t have a whole lot more to say about that, because it is just fresh. It’s fun to dream.. and as a dreamer that follows God, it is always fun to realize that God dreams bigger than I do.

Sarah and I are going to get ready for church and go to the market with Laura tonight. We love being here and walking through the awkward and uncomfortable transition filled days. Thank you for surrounding us with your prayers, and thanks for reading.

J

ASIAN.

ASIAN.

When I was in about 7^th grade, I made a best friend. We played in band together and just got along phenomenally. After about a year, maybe a year and a half, he asked me if I had any Asian in my blood. I don’t think I knew at that point, but I was a little shocked and pretty sure that the answer was no. I told my good buddy a few days later, after checking with my parents, that no, David Gillie, I was not Asian. It was then that the joke began.

Being called Asian was never something I had a hard time with to any serious degree. I would fight it and giggle about it and fight it some more. My senior year in high school, my entire friend group, which was pretty mighty after going to school with the same 200 people for 12 years, thought it was hilarious to make Asian jokes.

I went to Brazil in 2008 fresh after graduation for a mission trip. We had a great time and it was my first mission. We got to finish a church building, brick and all, do a sports camp with beautiful Brazilian babies, and experience Brazil. One day during the construction of the church, the village kids and myself were playing a lovely game of charades, attempting to communicate when a little boy took his two index fingers and pulled the skin around his eyes, and then pointed at me. I tried to pretend that that didn’t really just happen, and maybe it was just a meaningless gesture, but he continued to get his question across asking if I was Asian. It was so funny, I look the little boy around to all of my buddies who knew the joke and made him repeat what he had done. I couldn’t wait to get back and tell all of my punk friends that they weren’t the only one that thought I was Asian.

Fast forward two years and hop from South America to Southern Asia, and here I am. Today was Sarah and I’s first day at the orphanage and let me say, this place is beautiful. There is work to be done and girls to be loved, and within the first two hours we each had girls in our arms speaking Thai-lish (English+ Thai) They are eager to learn and make new friends and they all giggle and hide their faces when they first meet us.

As we were being introduced to the first 4 girls and one of the property staff, through the translation they managed to get across that they thought “.. one of my ancestors may be Thai, or Chinese.. Asian in your blood?..”

OH

MY

GOODNESS

So, the joke continues. David Gillie, what started in seventh grade is, no joke, going international. And if you’re curious,

I’m German.

Love- Kelli