About a boy

One of my favorite parenting books (so far) is "Grace - based parenting" by Dr. Tim Kimmel. His main message, the way I understand it, is that all kids really need is a significant purpose, secure love and strong hope. If we manage to instill these into our children, they will grow up to be the kind of people we would like to have as friends.

I remember hearing or reading at some point that the quest for identity and meaning in life is something only "the rich" can afford to do. "The poor" are consumed with finding enough food for the day. That is all they can think about, all their energy goes into surviving. This might be a simplistic summary of the main idea behind it but even so I have often wondered if this is true.

That woman bending over small rice seedlings in a rice paddy all day - what are her dreams? That man, chopping firewood in the forest or the child hauling water from the well to her home - who do they hope to be some day?

I realize that many are happy with where they are in life and I strive to find joy in the daily ordinariness of life, the little things. I think that is one of the big secrets of life. And yet we all, deep down, long for more.

I love this story I heard about 6 months ago about a young man, born and raised in a small village, in the mountains at the Northern tip of this country. One of our friends visited his village frequently and often saw him sitting around with a sad and hopeless look in his eyes. She got to know him and eventually arranged for him to come to the capital city for training. He started learning about electricity, construction, basic business skills, English and basic math. He also heard more about Jesus.

When he first came, he was shy, and spoke with a soft voice. He rarely spoke in front of a group of people. But the longer he stayed, the more he lived in a community that loves Jesus, the bolder he became. Now, he loves to pray out loud and is one of those who teaches his fellow students about what he is learning from the Word. He just can't stop talking about Him. He has been changed.

I love how much this shows how Jesus transforms people. He takes this boy, without hope, purpose, or love and gives him a significant purpose, secure love and strong hope. Shows him that there is more to life than just sitting in his village day after day. That he has a role to play in this world. A chance to leave his mark.

We all need a purpose, we all need love, we all need hope. No other place to find it than with Jesus.

Let your light shine

The chanting of the monks at our village temple just across the street had been going on all day. Now the drums started beating, too. This was the second day of chanting. I hear the drums twice daily, once in the early hours of the morning and once at around 4pm. For me, they serve to mark time but also as my personal call to prayer. Prayer for Jesus' light to shine in this darkness.

I asked my house helper what the occasion was and she said it was the Festival of Bread. People bring rice, bread, and other offerings to the temple for their deceased loved ones, so that they do not go hungry. And the spirits are appeased.

Several months later it is the beginning of Buddhist Lent. During the next few weeks, there will be no weddings or parties. Again the chanting can be heard throughout the day. I watch my neighbor return from the temple. She is wearing a beautiful sinh (traditional skirt) with an intricately embroidered sash across her shoulder. She is carrying the silver bowl with which she brought her offerings to the temple. As a woman, she may not pass items on to the monks directly.

The 4 o'clock drums pick up their rhythmic beating as I hang up our laundry to dry in the hot sun. 'Jesus, show yourselves to those who are seeking you. Help us be your hands and feet, help us carry your light into this darkness.'

Will you pray with me?

After 8 years here, I am still in the learning phase when it comes to culture and way of life. Part of it is a deep distrust towards foreigners due to over three decades of teaching. It is subtle as people are friendly and smile a lot but can still be felt in the wary questions they ask you. Asking what I want, why I'm here, why I'm talking to them,...Part of it is the way urban society has changed drastically over the past years. The tight and natural bonds of village life are no longer seen in a normal neighborhood of the capital city. Neighbors might not really know each other or be willing to help each other out. And maybe they are also distrustful of each other? Part of it is also due to culture, not wanting to lose face or be embarrassed. So it's easier to just stick to yourselves and not say anything that might put your own country and people in a bad light.

Just last week I learnt, that if you want a job, it's good to have money. Because the job is not given to the most qualified but to the one who will pay the most to get that job. For many, this means leaving their homes to move to other provinces (where no one really wants to go) as it's easier to find jobs there (because no one really wants to go there).

A few weeks ago, the 6 year old daughter of a friend was very sick and given a dubious diagnosis and only a 50% chance of survival. She recovered. Only to be pushed down a flight of stairs by a bigger student at her school. She lost consciousness and came away with a severe head injury, was taken to the hospital by the teachers and only when her mother came to pick her up at school was she told of the accident. The teachers and school refused to take responsibility even though there are obviously not enough teachers to warrant a safe environment for the kids. So she's now at a different school with less kids and more teachers.

Today, I drove by a traffic control point where a motorbike with two people on it had been stopped. The controller was kicking the motorbike wanting the driver and passenger to get off. Both were wearing the required helmets but they are sure to be found wanting for some other offence and have to pay up.

I think that is what has struck me these past few weeks. An underlying sense of utter helplessness. Behind the smiles and laughter and seemingly peaceful people there is much hurt and pain and disappointment and abandonment. The system seems random and always against you and there is no one to fight your cause. You have to be on your guard and it's hard to trust others because you never know who will betray you or cheat on you.

So how can we be countercultural here? Building His kingdom with values that are opposite of the way things are done? How can we function when the only way to function seems to be to adapt to culture?

I have been convicted lately, of how my choices, even in little things, affect the world around me. The plastic wrapper I throw in the trash here might well end up in a fish belly or on the ocean floor. Every day, I have to make choices, big ones and little ones. Sometimes it means making sacrifices - time, money, comfort - to choose the right thing. But, if not at least for the sake of my children, I want to try my hardest to be willing to make those sacrifices. Because I care about the kind of world they will live in. To go against the flow, against what others do and say. Because it's what He did.

rejoice

With Dylan I am currently reading 'Catching their talk in a box', the life story of Joy Riddenhof. I had never heard of her before yet she is one of the first, it seems, to travel all over the world and record programs in various dialects and languages, producing records that were then given to many many people so they might hear the Good News.

Apparently, whenever she ran out of money or supplies or had to deal with difficulties of any kind, she would say: "Let us rejoice! Now we will see how God will take care of us." And she would run to the door and wait expectantly for someone to bring her whatever she needed at that time. Which always seemed to happen and come true for her.

I admire that. My tendency is to despair, then try and figure something out on my own, then get angry at everyone for the predicament I am in, then rack my brain for more ideas on how to get out of this predicament. And then, I might turn to God, begging Him to please please help me. Never do I rejoice.

The other day, I said to David:"If you want to buy a second car, you should get yourself a paying job." It was intended to be humorous but it stuck with me and as I pondered I was reminded of Matthew: 'Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be added unto you.'

At times I get tired of this life - of living on a budget, of feeling indebted to others. I get tired of money being an issue, not necessarily just for me personally but for the work we want to do as well. I get angry, at times, for the seemingly 'wasteful' way some people can afford to live. And wish everything could be redistributed. And I could be in charge. :)

But there it is: 'Seek first His Kingdom'. I don't usually see this as the privilege it is. We don't have to worry. We can be as carefree as the lilies of the field. We can rejoice. Because we are in the right place and I have never lacked anything.

October 16th

October 16th, a Wednesday evening. I had read on facebook that a plane heading from the capital to the South had crashed, killing all 49 on board. I am ashamed to say that it was just another news item, something I registered in the passing, thinking I'd get back to it later. Which I did, but in unexpected ways. It wasn't until it became apparent that someone I actually knew had been on that plane that the reality of it all sank in.
It took many days to find all the parts of the plane, to pull the bodies out of the river, to identify the victims. It still seems so surreal that this young couple is gone. And yet it really happened. And we are left behind, dealing with the shock and pain and sadness while they have moved on ahead of us into glory and light and goodness and neverending beauty and contentment and bliss.

Death remains a mystery, yet constant companion. I have seen joy and sorrow mingle as we celebrate a life well lived and reminisce about favorite moments with those who have passed away. We are shocked and left speechless when death happens suddenly and unexpectedly. I think of my grandfather, who was ready to die and yet held on to life for much longer than I would have thought. Why do we fight death? Or fight to live? Especially when we know what is waiting for us?

In the past few years there have been many goodbyes. I said goodbye to my grandfather. Others said goodbye to their father. Some had to say the dreadful goodbye to a baby - one born with severe deformities, one born still after a car accident which in itself remains unexplained. A former colleague and teammate died at age 22 after battling an illness.

Though death comes as a welcome relief to some it still leaves us grieving. Weeping for those that have moved on ahead of us. We weep for moments we are deprived of. Seeing a child grow up. Holding grandbabies. Saying one last 'I love you'.

We weep and fight and pray for life because life is a gift. God breathed on Adam and gave him the breath of life. God formed us and knit us together in our mother's womb. He gives us this life, this day, as a gift.

And life is made up of thin places. Places where we can catch a glimpse of eternity. And before we know it, maybe unexpectedly, that veil will rip apart and we will see clearly. Will live as God had intended from the beginning. But till then we are on this side of eternity. And grieve. And weep. And have to learn to let go. Because we will never understand the 'why'.

The plane crash reminded me of this gift of today. It made clear to me that all I have is now. And in the blink of an eye, in an instant this life here can be over. What will I do with what is given me?

Receive it graciously. Savor the moment - the good and the bad, the lighthearted and challenging. Enjoy - good food, good company, good books. Notice the beauty. Create beauty. Be present and mindful in the moment. Never hold back on hugs and 'I love yous'. Be mindful of your 'last words'. Take risks and don't shrink back from the new and different. Seize opportunities as they arise, even if they might be 'too expensive'. Drink good coffee and not settle for second best. Learn not to look back with regret but know that God is the Redeemer of all. Live today, not yesterday or tomorrow. Laugh daily and strive to be joyful in all. Seek to serve others and make their day a happy one. Smile. Show compassion to others and yourself. Don't hold a grudge but be quick to forgive and seek forgiveness. Celebrate the ordinary with lots of chocolate cake. And most of all love. Love freely and deeply but with open hands. Because in an instant the veil can tear and we might move through the thin place to the other side. With my grandfather's last words to me: 'Until we meet again.'

all you need is ...

A friend shared about her sister's struggle with clinical depression for over 20 years. She got married and had kids but for a long time she could not even function enough to get dinners cooked or take care of her children. Her husband was loving and faithful but not necessarily firm with his children. He let them have free reign, always insisting that they would turn out just fine. And they did.

In ending the story, my friend said: "It's just so cool to see how God really stepped in and took care of those kids when their mom just couldn't."

It reminded me of a workshop I went to at a conference when Dylan was just a baby. The workshop was on family life or raising kids overseas and the speaker said: "God loves your kids so much more than you do. Don't worry about them. Just love them and He will take care of them because He loves them even more than you do."

Whenever I worry about my children, worry about what they might be missing out on because of this journey we are on, worry that I might be messing them up, worry about not being fully present each minute of each day, worry about the many times I lose my temper and make mistakes, I am reminded of that thought: "God loves these children so much more than I do or ever could". And anyone who has kids and knows this love that runs so deep and that hits you with such force the second you know of this life growing inside of you and that helps you press on through those sleep-deprived, hazy days when you feel like you're sleepwalking and your child is just throwing another temper tantrum and you don't know if you can take it anymore...and God has so much more of that. Wow.

At times I tend to see my children as an extension of myself and I need these reminders that they are not, that they are a person of their own right, with their own personality, their own self. That they, too, are my brothers and sister in Christ.

It makes me realize that I need to have compassion with them and show them grace. And show myself grace, too. Rules are good and helpful but sometimes what my children really need is compassion and grace. When my four year old is kicking and screaming because he has all these passions and emotions inside and does not yet know how to handle them all I go into parenting overdrive and think this is a teaching moment and I have to stick to the guns. When actually, what I am realizing, he needs me to squat down and hold him and all his emotional turmoil. And then, when he has calmed down in my embrace, when I have loved him and shown him compassion, we can have that teachable moment.

So often I tend to criticize, stick to principle, judge others for what they say and do. I expect perfect behavior from imperfect children, from imperfect others and imperfect me. How good it is to look into Jesus' eyes and see that they are full of compassion, never judge, and that His arms are always wide open, exuding grace.

I appreciated a quote attributed to Billy Graham: "It is God's job to judge, the Holy Spirit's job to convict and my job to love. "

Someday, when my kids look back on our home, I hope they remember a joyful mama, full of compassion and grace. I still have time to get there....

search for simplicity

It's the height of rainy season. There have been steady rainfalls on most days, interwoven with sunny hours. Everything in the house and outside feels clammy. It is our wettest month of the year.

The last two days the boys (with Alana joining them most of the time) have spent almost all their waking ours digging in a mud hole. They have gone from discovering a long lost Ancient Egyptian grave to making tar to building walls to defending their castle with mud bombs. They jump into puddles, are covered in mud and are discovering the great outdoors. I love to listen in on their conversations while at play, catching a glimpse of the magical world of their imagination. I love how they interweave what we have been studying at school with all that they do in the great outdoors. How it becomes an integral part of who they are right now. I love the growth of their relationships with each other, seeing how they interact and how their personalities shine through.

I often dream of an old farmhouse, lots of space, green hills, changing seasons, living off the land, a closer connection to nature and a more simple and quiet and peaceful life, away from the noise and busyness and smells of the city.

So I am thankful for rainy days and mud holes and the freedom the kids have to be outdoors, to connect with the here and now. It may not be an old farmhouse and my garden so far has not yielded much fruit. But this is the day that the Lord has made and it is a gift to be enjoyed and received and savored. This is the here and now, my present reality. And I am grateful.

Note: This was written about two weeks ago. I wanted to add a picture of muddy faces but you'll just have to imagine those for now. :)