Airport Musings, or, What I Write When I'm Tired and Sentimental

Sitting here in the airport, I just got my first chance to finally open a card I was given a few hours ago. Today was both my last day of classes at Santisuk and my last day in Thailand, and as such, it has been an awfully busy day, filled with packing and grading and good-byes. I only got about five-and-a-half hours last night, after grading the last batch of essays and doing a little packing at a much later hour than I have seen in a long time. Looking back at today, I can't believe I did as much as I did, while at the same time I know there was so much more I would have liked to do.

The card was from a good friend that I have taken to calling my sister. She is just over a year older than me, but one of my greatest delights in Thailand has been teasing her about her antiquity. (She usually responds by telling me that I look like I'm 15.) She is a relatively new Christian, but is excited about studying the Bible--she told me the other day that she read it for five hours the day before, and when I asked her why, she responded simply: "I want to know as much as I can about God!" I was not in much of a position today to dwell on goodbyes, so I received her goodbye card via her friend, one of my students. But that was right before class, so I stashed it in my bag for a later time.

Pulling it out just now, waiting for our flight to board, I was greeted by a picture of the two of us at some ancient Thai ruins, next to a short note and a quote from Ephesians: "I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers." With it was a small collage photos of us and the others that came with on the trip. It was, I imagine, a more time-consuming project than it appeared at first glance, and the sweetness and sincerity of the note touched me.

It hasn't been difficult to make me more than a little sentimental today, and I've been more emotional than I expected. It has, after all, barely been four weeks since I was last in this airport, and I found myself in a place where I didn't speak the language and any communication was at the mercy and generosity of those willing to converse in their second language. But the people I worked and played with quickly became my family. I know it's cliché to say things like that, and that those sentiments are overused and tired, but the truth of it resonates in my chest, and I can't help but feel like, in some way, I'm leaving brothers and sisters. It is an inexplicable thing--but one I am finding surprisingly common--to find yourself drawn to someone as if you have always known them, even when you can barely communicate with each other. Many of my best friends from the past several months live across an ocean. That I can attribute to nothing other than the incredible spirit of unity in the body of Christ. Somehow, and it is still in some ways a mystery to me, I have less in common with my school friends than I do with these Thai brothers and sisters that I have known for less than a month.

Looking back on the last four weeks, there is much more to write about than the sappy emotions currently manifesting themselves in this blog. I have to tell you all about the good news of the Thai church, of telling my testimony, of my student that came--after much prayer!--to accept Christ. (And I have to finish that post about my birthday abroad!) But that will have to come later. For now, praise God that this unity is so real, that his truth really does bind us together, and that his love is made perfect here on earth!

To my Thai brothers and sisters: I miss you already, and I hope to come again soon! Goodbye, Bangkok!

When It Rains, it Pours, or, All the Time, God Is Good

As I sit in my room listening to the rain outside, seeing the lightning out the window, I can't help but understand that phrase literally. This has to be one of the heaviest, longest downpours I've ever experienced. Walking home from school tonight, which is literally next-door, my clothes were drenched--even though I was under an umbrella!--from the side-stream of rain and the over-flooded street.

The rain made me think of the last few days, how they have been so like that phrase. I've been in more physical pain this week than any time since January, and there seemed nothing I could do about it. On Monday afternoon, my neck muscles began to tighten, and after four hours of teaching, I was completely unable to move my head without it shooting all kinds of pain through my body. I walked home without eating dinner, too sore to think about sitting at a table over a plate of food and with a headache bad enough that I didn't want to try to wade through conversation. That night I was feverish, waking up halfway through the night shivering uncontrollably, even though I was under a blanket. I grabbed my sweatshirt for the first time since I got off the plane, turned off the air set no lower than 78 degrees Fahrenheit, and huddled in my blanket until I nodded off. The next day was nearly the same, and by the end of the night I wondered if I could make it through another day like it.

Thankfully, that night was the end of it. The pain and tension in my neck was bad enough to make me want to quit--but when it rains, it pours, and I simply didn't have that luxury. We are now over halfway through classes here at Santisuk, and things were beginning to speed up this week, with tests to give, papers to grade, and activities to plan. Today I gave my testimony at a school function, which I had to prepare and polish this week, way more than usual. It seemed like everything was coming at once, and I was beginning to feel overwhelmed.

But it is in these times where, if we are looking hard enough, we can most clearly see the ways that God is providing for us. It was in little things yesterday, but so many that I had to feel blessed! I brought no pain medication to Thailand, but one of my students came to class with some familiar meds that she offered me and I gratefully accepted. After class, my friend Jordan and I went out to dinner, which I made myself do because of my then-gargantuan appetite; and though I still cannot order in Thai and his Thai is pretty limited, he happened to order the exact thing I was hoping for. And when I got back to my apartment, I found a small bag hanging on my door as an early birthday present, filled with baked goods and all kinds of chocolate! I got to sleep early after that and slept for a good 11 hours, feeling refreshed and rested and free pain!

Even in the hard days, God is good to us. Today felt like a blessing all day, simply being well again. I had a few new blessings today, too, like an unexpected free lunch and a chance to answer a student's question about Christian church, not to mention being able to share a testimony about answered prayers from this summer (and way more success than I expected at making 'l' and 'r' sounds today in class!). But we have to realize (for some of us, we have to be reminded again and again) that every day is a gift, and that we as Christians are called to live life to the full, not out of any hollow "YOLO" philosophy, but because Jesus came "that they may have life and have it abundantly" (John 10:10). We are loved and cared for in Christ, lacking nothing, and through him, we know the Father; and these simple truths fill us with joy.

I was encouraged as one of my students today remarked that I was in a good mood. I wish now that I had replied something like, "God is good, and he is King, so of course I'm in a good mood!" But I'm not always as quick to think that way as I ought to be, so I just smiled and said, "Yes, I am!" Maybe someday God will grant that that will be my default answer; but in the meantime, I will have to continue to search for the blessings, remembering not to take them for granted, and remembering every day God's promise to be my Good Shepherd, giving me abundant life!

Fears and Frustrations, or, What Do I Do Next?

One thing that has been difficult for me has been the strange sort of rigidity in my schedule. That seems like an odd thing to say, given the fact that I only really "work" about four or five hours a day four days a week; but the meaningful relationships that I want to develop with my students, especially the high school students, can only happen during certain hours, and those tend to be the hours that I'm working. Most of my days start on the late side, with lots of solitude as I get ready for life and school, though admittedly, most days, more solitude than is really necessary. And so my day ambles on until 4, when I start getting into school mode, and it seems that most of my reason for being here is then squeezed into five hours of ministry that is mostly just teaching. It would honestly be a dream schedule in any other situation, and it's really not that bad in the current one except that it makes it hard to invest time in the places I want to.

Weekends, though, are the glorious exception; or, at least, Saturdays are, and today I got to spend a solid eight hours with a few of my students, mostly high-schoolers. We met at 9 without much of a plan; we decided on the turn off a heel which direction we would head and made off for the dock behind The Mall. (One of the endearing things about Thailand is the way the Thai use English. The name of the mall in my district, Bang Kapi, is quite simply "The Mall.") We crowded onto the river taxi and made our way down the klong toward Wat Phrat Keaw, the Grand Palace, which I'd already been to once before.

Now, I am not the most decisive of people, as some of you may read with a chuckle, so it probably helped to establish our plans that a couple of my students had no trouble taking the proactive lead in deciding what to do. It probably also helped that about ten minutes before we got off the water taxi the ominous clouds up ahead turned into a torrential downpour. The Grand Palace, which is mostly outdoors, was pretty clearly out of the question, so instead we opted for a museum. We hopped in a regular-old taxi (you can, of course, hire a cab in Bangkok, but in a city with so many other options, it doesn't always look quite as attractive) and made it to the National Museum. Like just about everything in Bangkok, the foreigner price was about seven times the Thai price, but I'm pretty much used to that and have learned not to complain. When in Rome, and all that.

The museum was full of gorgeous old pieces--and, naturally, plenty of very very old pieces that were not quite as gorgeous as they crumbled to ashes, though the antiquities have their own kind of beauty. The thing that keeps striking me about Thailand, though, is the incredible level of spirituality; and sure enough, as we walked through the museum we found case after case of Buddha sculptures, spanning over a thousand years and thousands of miles of archeological digs. Buddhas and Vishnus and Krishnas, spirit houses and guardian angels and demon puppets, models of temple after temple after ancient, ruined temple. It filled almost the entire place, besides the one small building housing treasures of the Thai Kings and Queens of old.

And yet, spiritual conversation is so hard to come by. As we walked through the museum I made the off-comment about how something was similar or different to Christianity or how amazed I was at the spiritual atmosphere of the country, but the conversation never got off the ground. After we decided we were hungry enough to leave, we hired a tuk-tuk and somehow squeezed six people onto a two-to-three-person seat on our way to lunch. Again I asked about personal religion, and after finding out that three of my students are Buddhist and two of them Muslim, the conversation died again. So we ate, coerced the only other guy in our party, who is a little camera-shy, into some pictures, and took the bus back to The Mall, getting lost on the way. (It's not an adventure of you don't get lost at least once!) We got some ice cream at Swenson's and called it a day.

I'm beginning to feel the frustration that has probably been a part of mission work in this country for ages. There have been Christian missionaries here for hundreds of years, bit still less than one percent professes Christ. The same spirituality that seems to create so many in-roads to the gospel also puts up a wall that is nearly impenetrable. While I don't want to alienate a people that I have honestly come to love, I don't want to cheat them of hearing the Good News of Jesus, either. I just don't know how to share it when there seem to be so few open doors.

I am reminded again that it is only my job to plant seeds, that God will grow them in a way that bewilders and awes me. Maybe my task is simply to love my students, selflessly and genuinely, which I think I am legitimately learning how to do. Though it sounds to me like a cop-out on my part, maybe God is speaking the word to their hearts in a way that is deeper than I ever could. My fear is simply that they will leave this place with better English and pleasant feelings toward their teacher without ever hearing the truth that can change their lives and their hearts forever.

This Made My Day, or, Teachers Have Awesome Perks

The other day I received my first "apple" from a student!--only it wasn't an apple, but a little cake. An adorable little thing, and boy, did it taste good! Cake is not a common thing in Thailand, so it was an appreciated taste of home. :-) Let it be known that teachers can indeed be bribed. But really, it completely surprised me and totally made my night, and I thought I should share it!

An Update

Sawatdee krup! It has been a week since I last posted, and I've been busy! We had our first three days of the term this last week, and even though I'm only actually teaching for about four hours every day, it has kept me plenty busy. On the days that I don't have class, my traveling buddy/tour guide/cultural interpreter Scott and an assortment of Thai nationals have made sure I don't sleep in too late, showing me all around the city. I've learned a smattering of Thai phrases (I'm most proud of the fact that I can now count from 1 to 999 if I think hard enough!), when and how to properly greet someone, how to get around on the busses, where to get what Thai food (although, all of it being so good, I hardly ever have a preference), and a bunch of other stuff. Even if I became fluent in Thai, though, I'd probably still get funny looks on the street with my funny hats and my reddish beard. Not even in middle school did I feel as acutely different as I do here in the outer parts of Bangkok.

Not that it bothers me much at all. I've learned to laugh along with the clerk when I have a Thai person order me food and I clumsily thank them in broken Thai. More than once, I've come up to the counter in a store and witnessed the clerk, grinning and looking back and forth from me to her coworker next to her, say something in fast Thai and start laughing. I'm not sure what it is, but I seem to have that effect on people, and I usually just laugh along. I'm different, and I know I am, so I guess it's silly to be offended when someone notices.

At times, though, it helps to be different. My classes have been going wonderfully, and being an American come 23 hours from home just to teach a few Thai students English has been a pretty big part of that. Along with my English comes my culture, and there's a funny kind of respect afforded to a foreign language teacher when he speaks about something as simple as snow. (In addition to teaching two classes I'm assisting with a third, and I was caught off guard when the teacher asked me to explain the idea of "cold". I would have never thought of it, but how do you explain cold to someone who has lived where the daily high has been over 90 degrees F every day of his life?) And so my differences are an asset, as well... at least as long as I stay within the four walls of Santisuk.

My greatest worry has not had to do with differences, though. I teach two classes back-to-back, one from 4:45 p.m. to 6:45, and the other from 7-9. My first class is made up almost entirely of high school students, a group that arrives right after school ends and goes straight home after class. The second class is made mostly of working adults, almost all female, and they are working until I begin teaching and then go straight home. This is not a helpful arrangement when your goal is not only to teach English, but also to form relationships that point to Christ. I would love to go out to lunch or dinner as other teachers are able to do, or to go down the street to the mall with my high-schoolers after class, but such things are impossible, and I am limited to weekends.

Still, that holds lots of promise, and God has been teaching me, over and over again it seems, that He is in control, not me. I spent a couple days a little down, thinking that I wouldn't get a chance to do the things I came for, wondering why I was in a strange place where I didn't know the language and yet was trying to develop relationships and communicate the gospel to a practically unreached people. But then over the last week I have a happened to be spending time in Mark 4, and God has made it clear throughout the chapter that it is His work to change hearts, not mine, and that I only have to be faithful to his call. I resonated with the disciples in the verses where Jesus calms the storm on the lake. The storm comes and they are frightened, knowing that the storm is too great for them to handle, so they go to Jesus, who is sleeping, and yell, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" And Jesus, after he calms the storm with nothing more than his voice, says, "Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?" Jesus was the one that sent them out in the first place, and it would be by his power, not by the strength or cunning of the disciples, that they reached the other side. That has been a huge encouragement to me. It is not by my cleverness or discernment that the Thai people--or even just my own students--will be saved. God called me here, and it is God that will accomplish his purposes.

And, truth be told, he already is. Just yesterday, three of my students came to the English church service the school puts on Sunday night. A speaker that night talked on God's faithfulness even when we are not faithful (was God trying to say something to me, maybe!?) and quoted from all kinds of scripture; and though my students were listening in a non-fluent language to an African speaker, I know they heard at least some bit of truth. Today I mentioned a trip the School is taking this Saturday, and many of the students in both classes wanted to go. God is opening doors, and I seem to be barely involved in it. Good thing, too, because He can do it a lot better than I can.

I had better get to bed; I have a lot of work to do before I teach tomorrow afternoon, and I want to get up early tomorrow. If you're praying, pray for God to keep opening doors, for my students and the other 150 or so that are registered for this session. Ask Him to start spiritual conversations and to use the teachers' lives as a witness to his goodness and grace, and to keep the teachers healthy and rested. I continually thank God for Santisuk; this is a marvelous place with beautiful people that have bigger hearts for God and His people than I could have imagined, and I'm going to miss it when I leave. God is doing amazing work here! I will try to update more often this coming week. For now, goodnight from Bangkok!

Culture Shock; or, Wow, I Have a Lot to Learn

Hello from Thailand! We flew in about midnight two nights ago, and for the last couple of days we've kept ourselves busy. Yesterday we explored the area, found some local grub, picked up some supplies at the supermarket and went to church. I've met a lot of new people, and I'm finally beginning to remember names after a couple of days. I spent most of today in downtown Bangkok with Scott and a couple of Thai guys from the church and had some fun adventures involving tuk-tuks and water-taxis as we explored some amazing temples and palaces. The city of Bangkok isn't very old when you compare it to other huge Eurasian cities, but it is so rich in history and culture that it hardly matters.

Over the last couple of days there have been a few things that have stuck out to me. One is the poverty here. It isn't everywhere--there are lots of people who are well off, with cars and houses and nice clothes, though the standard of living is certainly lower than in the U.S.--but that might make the dichotomy even more disturbing. It isn't a rich country, but how is it that people can live in nothing more than a one-room shack made of sheets and second-hand plywood suspended by nothing more than a few 2x4s over a side-canal that smells of sewage when just down the road is a high-rise condo, probably filled with rich foreigners? Of course I can't and don't expect these foreigners--or even the nationals--to solve the poverty issue so simply, but seeing these things first hand is a little jarring. It carries through everywhere, though, not just in residences. We ate lunch today at a place that was shoddily built over the river in Bangkok, and though it was one of the nicer places we have been to, we ate on cheap folding tables and plastic patio chairs. It just makes you realize how wealthy we really are in the States--and by wealthy, maybe I mean extravagant. Should we expect the kinds of things we do as a part of our daily lives?

The other thing I've been struck with is the incredible amount of spirituality in Thailand. Walking down the soi (that is, the side street), it's common to see little shrines with Buddha images set up every couple of blocks, and almost every one will have recent sacrifices of food or drink. Sometimes you will see sacrifices even without an altar, as some kind of spirit-appeasement. I never honestly thought I would be in a place where household idols are legitimately worshipped, but it is a common practice here. The temples are always busy, with tourists but also with Buddhist devotees and monks. Many say that there is an incredible amount of demonic activity here, and while I'm hardly ever comfortable calling anything demonic or assuming much of anything about the spiritual realm, I cannot help but wonder if it isn't true. But then, so may be the other side of things, the miracles and healings and the movement of the Spirit. A new friend was telling me about his mother, who was not yet a Christian but kept reading the Bible, because it was, in a way she couldn't describe, powerful. Just last night, she accepted Christ. And yesterday I heard a testimony of how God miraculously removed a 9-mm ovarian tumor, which happened within the last week. Faith is a living, breathing thing here, not just a remembered sentiment, and that is inspiring, and perhaps just a little unnerving. Maybe the spiritual world is a little more real than I was prepared to understand, and that which you can't see is always at least a little frightening.

Tomorrow morning is church; Friday night we have our worship service, and Sunday morning is cell groups. Classes start on Tuesday, three days from now; I have two evening classes back-to-back, which may be tiring, but may also make for a very free schedule, which is a good thing. For now, I had better get to bed; I've been awfully tired the last couple days. If you're praying, pray for stamina and energy, motivation, spiritual growth and readiness, more opportunities to connect with community, and that a solid foundation would be laid in my own life so that I can be an effective witness of the love of god to others. This will be a challenging month, but it may be one of the most rewarding times of my life. I pray that I will be able to say, after a difficult and grueling month, "To God be the glory!"

Look, Ma, the North Pole! or, Are We There Yet?

It's not quite four hours in, and I'm already feeling how odd and how long this 15-hour flight is going to be. I've eaten a meal, had a good spiritual conversation, met a Taiwanese student from Boston and watched a disappointingly depressing movie, and I'm already wondering what it is I'm supposed to do next. I'm currently flying somewhere over the Arctic Bay, though we've been told to keep our windows closed for now, so I'm watching the outside camera on the screen in front of me, marveling just a little at the idea that on my way to the hottest place I've ever been, I'm flying over one of the coldest in the world. If I were to jump out of the plane into these waters below, I would freeze to death. Maybe that's a little bit morbid, but it's an incredible, fascinating thought all the same.

Two weeks ago, the realization that I would soon be on the other side of the world hit me with stunning clarity. Now, mere hours away from touching down in Hong Kong, it seems little more than a vague abstraction. Oh well... It will hit me again soon enough! I suppose the first intercontinental travelers must have felt pretty surreal too. Can you imagine finally seeing the New World after months of traveling over mile after endless mile of ocean, your entire world looking exactly the same until you can't even remember what land looked like? In the meantime you would feel as if you were nowhere at all, even when you knew you were in the middle of an ocean never before traveled. The profundity of your adventure would seem overshadowed by its monotony.

Anyway, I wonder how people can do this all the time. Maybe it grows on you. Right now, I mostly just feel bored. Only 11 hours to go! I will have to wait for Wi-Fi to post this. Next stop: Hong Kong!

Update: It's 9 p.m. here, but my body tells me that it's time for breakfast, and I'm hungry. I was surprised to fly into Hong Kong in the dark, but it's closer to the equator, which means that light and dark are closer to equal. Apparently the sun will set at about 6 p.m. in Bangkok. These little things will be the things that disorient me the most, I expect.

Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire; or, Holy Crap, I'm Leaving for Thailand in 24 Hours!

But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.  --Acts 20:24

For I am God, and there is no other... saying, 'My counsel shall stand, and I shall accomplish all I purpose'... I have spoken, and I will bring it to pass; I have purposed, and I will do it.  --Isaiah 46:9-11

Only a couple hours ago I got back from a full summer of working at camp; 24 hours from now and I'll be at the airport in Chicago, ready to fly to Thailand.  The lunacy of moving from one place to another so quickly has been hitting me; and yet, while I'm nervous and scared out of my mind at what may be in store this coming month, I am sure that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.  There have been few times in my life that I've been able to say that with relative certainty.

This summer has been one of the best I can remember, and though I probably say that every summer, it is without a doubt a truth today.  I feel like God has used me, but in ways far different from what I expected, and that I have learned so much more about him and about myself than I expected I would.  I have seen God work, but in different ways than in the past.  This has not been a summer where I have been a part of summer campers being overwhelmed by emotion, trying to ask me about Jesus through their tears.  It's been one of deepening understandings, of being convinced of the reality of God, of seeing him move and being astounded.  I got to see high-schoolers open up like I never have before, telling their stories and their weaknesses in front of newly-found brothers.  I got to see my brother come to camp and be convicted about his faith in a deeper way than I have ever seen before.  I got to be a part of baptisms of campers and of staff members that wanted to declare that they would live for Christ.  And in my own life, I saw the paradoxical power in vulnerability, the power of story and testimony, and I am walking away from camp having built some of the most honest, affectionate, and (I expect) enduring friendships that I ever have.  I was stretched outside of my comfort zone and challenged to give of myself unconditionally, to understand the need of laying down my pride and being humble, counting others as more important than myself, giving my time and affections and energy to my King, relying on his promises and not my own merit.  I walk into the next season of my life with the understanding that God, and not I, is the one who changes hearts.

And that is one thing that I will need to keep in mind as I move to Thailand for a month of teaching and building relationships.  A camp counselor gets one week with his campers; I will have four with my students.  But not matter how long I have with them, no matter how many conversations I have and how bold I am, no matter how wise I think I am or even how willing, God will be the one changing hearts.  I am merely planting seeds.  "He sleeps and rises day by day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how."  (Mark 4:27)

I am already blessed on this trip.  My support has been covered; my passport came in quickly.  My bank card, which had been subject to fraud in Italy, was replaced and arrived just in time last Friday.  I am traveling with a guide that knows everything there is to know, and am going to teach at a school in Bangkok that is supportive and bathed in prayer.

I am tired after this summer, and there is little time to rest before I leave again, but I know that God will use this time, and I know that when I am weak, then he is strong.  Pray for energy, for courage, for wisdom and knowledge, for physical and spiritual safety; but above all, pray for God to work in these students' hearts, to change us all and to call to himself those whom he wills.  It sounds stuffy, but it is so true, and so freeing.  I cannot save anyone.  Only God can.

I hope to update often from Bangkok; we will see just how cooperative my schedule is.  I am excited for an adventure; I think this will be one of the most exciting and memorable times of my life!  To experience a new culture, as foreign and distant as Thailand's is, has been something I've dreamed about for a long time.  (I am super excited about real Thai food for a month!)  Praying with and working alongside Thai Christians is going to be amazing, and getting to know my students will be beautiful.  And I'm excited to be used of God, to--for the first time!--have the opportunity to make disciples of all nations.

Honestly, I think I'm probably going to get hooked.