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.