Seasons tiptoe in and out of my life so stealthily sometimes- taking captives and leaving behind temporary refugees. Thousands of fingerprints blend into the walls of my aorta’s waiting room.
In this new season of uncertainty, I find myself pleading with gravity to release several of the grains of sand that have conceded to the bottom of my hour glass. I long to return to the realm of confidence; instead, I wake up startled, assuming that I overslept my alarm. Then I remember… there is no alarm. For the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan or a place to be. While others find freedom in the absence of obligation, this is where I find my arch nemesis- restlessness.
After a season of explicit ministry- four months of releasing God’s Kingdom into the darkest Spiritual battlefield that I’ve ever encountered, it’s difficult to define what should come next. There is truth in the alleged “Spiritual High” that comes from ministry overseas. Coming home is difficult. I miss the daily opportunities to go out and “do God’s work;” I miss eating corn flakes every morning, smiling at strangers every evening, and most of all, I miss my family…
“For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.” –Romans 14:7-8
The above promise changed my life three years ago, and it’s changing my heart now. My battle is not over. I still have breath in my lungs as proof of my calling- to receive His extravagant love and to pour it back out… to be brave in the face of the unknown because I will always belong to the Lord. I do not live to myself, and I am not [on] my own.. in Thailand, in Virginia, even if I dwell by ‘the farthest oceans,’ my Maker will not abandon me (Psalm 139:8). He is the only constant in this world of tiptoeing seasons, and He knows me.
So here it is, the battle has just begun. I have returned to my home in the States, but I don’t want to be the same person that I was before this former season. God gives us seasons to release more and more of His Spirit within our hearts, and this Spirit does not back down in the face of familiarity. This is the hardest battle yet- carrying the Kingdom back to the places where I was comfortable, and fighting to retain the posture of humble surrender…remaining on my knees when the world says to stand up…allowing myself to submit to God rather than defining myself by what I think this world wants to see.
God has not stopped fighting for justice in His world, and He has not stopped pouring out His love and grace here, either. He doesn’t miss a thing; He doesn’t regret giving His son for us, and He knows why when I don’t understand. He is the constant in the temporary, and I belong to Him.
Cool Runnings. Lord of the Rings. Braveheart. And a million more.
We all love these stories because we can relate.
Example A: This broken and way-imperfect girl literally going to the other side of the world to fight deeply rooted injustices.
Example B: Only 1% of Thailand knows the saving grace of Jesus. 99% don’t.
I am the underdog here. Thai Christians are the underdogs here.
A good friend that is doing the Mission Training School here reminded me of Gideon in the Bible—in Judges 6-7.
She did some calculations and realized that his army ended up with about 1% of its original number.
That’s just our odds here in Thailand.
When I think about all the ministry we did over the last 4 months and how much more work there is to do...how many girls need to hear “I believe that you are important because Jesus loves you very much” in their native tongue, I start to feel overwhelmed and discouraged.
But then I remember that Gideon won the battle. 300 beat several hundred thousand. It was because God was on his side. It was in God’s strength that they were overcomers.
Because of Jesus—I have hope. These pieces of shattered glass are being transformed into a beautiful mosaic of his mercy. These threads of a person are being woven into a tapestry of his tenderness.
Against all odds, though hope seems lost, and the mountains look too steep, the ‘underdogs’ will overcome by the power of Jesus.
And Jesus seemed like the underdog too when he was killed on the cross. But a few days later he proved that the impossible was possible by the power of God when he defeated death and rose from the grave.
The women caught in the trap of prostitution, those enslaved in the sex trade, the men who restlessly wander and exploit in their emptiness, the Buddhists who stake their lives on luck and appeasing statues of stone, the atheist who has been burned so. many. times.
Will see a great Light. Will find freedom. Will know real love. Will experience a relationship with their Creator. Will overcome.
Because God loves to embrace broken things and make them beautiful.
I can think of no better way to spend my life, then sharing this truth with the world.
Good byes are never easy. Yesterday I had to say goodbye to *Jill, A girl I have posted about earlier in the trip. Austen and I had planned a beach date with her, our last date; I was going in with high expectations… I wanted it to be perfect, like a girls day in the movies, filled with laughter, maybe get a better tan, eat crap food, tell stories, and just be girls. But when we got to the mall to meet up with her, and walked to the beach it was raining... and she had a customer with her. My heart was completely broken. Jill* always told us, I get paid a certain amount of money (more than average) and I don’t have to go with men. I knew better, but part of me wanted to believe that she didn’t have to sell herself, that she didn’t have to have sex with strangers. But I sucked it up put and put a smile on my face. Satan wasn’t going to ruin my last date with one of my best friends and God wasn’t going to let “yuck man” be a distraction, our friend Phil (He is a part of the awesome MTS at SHE.) joined and kept him distracted! So we all played pool, afterwards the guys went and played games in the arcade and Jill*, Austen, and I did karaoke. It was exactly what I wanted; all the songs were in Thai so it was funny, listening to Austen and I try to sing the songs, and Jill* was just as goofy as ever, laughing at and with us.
Then it was time to say goodbye, I hugged her a million times, and told her I loved her, and Jesus loves her. And as I walked away, leaving her with the customer, I started to cry… Thinking about how she is around our age, being forced by her family to sell herself, for more/extra money. Is she ever going to find a real love? Who is going to speak truth to her? Who is going to tell her how much Jesus loves her? Who is going to tell her she is beautiful, when she is wearing a dress that covers her body, not the “shorts” that look like underwear, not the “shirt” that looks like a bra? Why do people think it’s just their culture? That they choose to do this, and men taking advantage of them is something that doesn’t hurt them?
BUT, as I was crying Austen took me into her arms, and held me, until I stopped, and when I looked up my team was there hugging and rubbing my back. And at that moment, God gave me peace. Me leaving doesn’t mean she will be alone, He is with her, and is watching her, and that is more than enough. He comforted me by showing me how He is with me and comforting me, He just happened to use my beautiful team to do that.
Please pray for us as we continue to say our goodbyes, to our family in Thailand, Our contacts, the SHE staff, the MTS, our friends around the community, And lastly, each other.
With only a few days left in Thailand, here's a brief composition of videos from our trip.
God is so faithful!
Please continue to pray as we prepare to leave Thailand and return to the states!
We just got home from Bangla Road and tonight something amazing happened with my friend i wrote about last, Am! I went to see her and she was telling me how much she hated her job... which she hasnt told me ever.
When she told me about her job I begged her to just leave with me right then and there but she said she had to finish her night. I promised her a job tomorrow! i said AM if you leave i promise you i can give you a job tomorrow!
In the end we decided that tomorrow at 11 a.m. I am going to pick her up in Patong to come back to S.H.E. to talk about having a new job here.
Right now she is at work and and its night but at home in the U.S. its day time so please could all of you pray for my 19 year old friend. Please pray that she is guarded tonight as she works, that satan cannot get to her. Please pray that she wakes up in the morning. Please pray that S.H.E. has the perfect words to say to her that make her want to leave. PLEASE PLEASE pray for my friend!
Preparing for this trip, I shared what I was going to be doing with a lot of people. Upon arriving here, I have found a cool ministry engaging with tourists to which I am able to share why we are here as well. Usually the response that I receive has some shred of this attitude:
“Wow... Good for you.”
I sometimes get the impression that, based on their words, body language, and tone, a lot of people think I must be someone especially moral or talented to be doing what I’m doing—befriending prostitutes in Thailand. My explanation usually elicits a few different reactions.
1. Offense—they perceive that I think I'm better because of what I am doing
2. Feelings of inadequacy—that they could never do what I am doing
3. Excitement—for what God is doing in and through me
I need to get something out in the open.
I am messed up.
I struggle with a lot of things most of you probably don’t know about because all you see is my “highlight reel.” I struggle to be sexually pure, I am extremely selfish and often don’t have good motives, I have a foul mouth at times, I gossip and judge people, I usually talk more than I listen, and am guilty cheating, lying, and stealing.
How’s that for your missionary in Thailand?
Just because I am a Christian doesn’t mean I am all of the sudden exempt from pain and temptation. It is a constant battle between what my body wants and what I know is best. I often choose the former.
To say that most people are jaded by Christians and churches would be an understatement. Words like: hypocritical, judgmental, boring, irrelevant, disproven, crutch are all commonplace among any talk of the Christian faith.
Mohandas Gandhi said, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ.”
You were right, Gandhi. The majority of the time I am not like Jesus.
But what he didn’t understand and what most people don’t understand is that this is the exact reason Jesus came to the earth, died on two wooden beams, and came back to life three days later—Because I could never be good enough.
I have nothing special that qualifies me to be here fighting this injustice. I don’t have superhero abilities or a great resume that earned me the ‘right’ to be here.
I’m just a whore whose chains have been broken.
I was once a slave, a caged bird, a coward, but now I’m free because Jesus gave his life for mine.
Christians aren’t claiming to be perfect. We’re not saying we have it all together with a nice pretty bow on top. I will tell you that you are right—I am a hypocrite...and saying that doesn’t excuse my sin. I’m sorry if you have ever been burned by the Church. I’m sorry if I have given you the wrong idea about who Jesus is because I acted like I was perfect, or shoved something down your throat, or didn’t extend mercy and acceptance when that’s all you needed.
But the message of Jesus is that there is ridiculous and almost unbelievable mercy, forgiveness, and hope for anyone whose guilt, shame, pain, questions, doubts, disappointments, depression, pride, addiction, or anger are crushing them into emptiness and oblivion.
God delights to use the most unexpected people to do extraordinary things. He calls the messed up and the weak to bring his message of mercy to the nations.
I pray that this blog moves your heart to be honest and vulnerable with others about your imperfection. I pray that it redeems your perception of who Jesus is. And I pray that it compels you to not longer claim, “I am not qualified to do this or that,” but instead gives you confidence that you are indeed qualified because Jesus has made you so, and “his strength is displayed in your weakness.”
This is a video a Worldrace team made while serving with us this month that depicts this good news to a ‘T’!
Sometimes trying to be a reflection of Christ takes sacrifices. Case in point: right now I have pink nails. Bright pink. As in almost glow-in-the-dark. Maybe that isn't what sacrifice looks like to you, but I hate pink. And I paint my nails about once every year or two. But today our friends Noi and Deuan came over to SHE to teach us how to make som tam (papaya salad), and afterward we painted nails on the floor in the kitchen. So now my fingernails are florescent pink. All of them. But just to have that time to hang out with our friends was worth it.
So the cook here is named Oon(oh-on). She is from Esan (same as Noi & Deuan), is in her fourtys, and is absolutly hilarious. She doesn't really speak English, and I don't really speak Thai, but we laugh. A lot. Anyway, Oon helped us make som tam, and so Noi, Deuan, and Oon talked in Thai a lot of the time, We felt a bit out of the loop, since we couldn't understand what was going on, but we just kind of chilled. That happens a lot in this ministry. But I sort of got the feeling that Oon might being telling them important stuff.
After we cleaned up from the som tam, I showed the girls around SHE, and tried to tell them a bit more about it. They didn't seem super enthused. Then we painted nails, laughed and Amber's nubbins (she bites her nails worse than anyone I have ever seen) and then drove them home. It was a bit exciting, because Deuan met Liz, the English class teacher, and seems pretty interested in going to class, but it's not like they were jumping up and down to come work at SHE.
Later on, Phil, who speaks pretty good Thai, told us that Oon was saying encouraging things to the girls about what goes on at SHE. And she was saying it in their own language and dialect. Maybe getting my nails painted neon pink isn't my idea of "missionary work," but I kind of think it was God's idea for getting Noi and Deuan here to have seeds planted in their hearts and minds.
Knowing I have less than two weeks with these girls has been hard for me, Satan has been attacking my worth, personally, in my Bangla team, and in the entire team. It’s easier for me to shut down, and push people away then to be left behind or forgotten. I was addicted to self-mutilation; I let Satan control me through that, attacking my self-worth daily, but I don't want to go back to that. Being vulnerable is a hard thing for me, sharing what I’m feeling makes me feel weak, not good enough. It’s scary. It doesn’t matter if what I am saying affects the person I’m talking to or not. Sometimes I let it get in the way of my relationship with Christ- not opening up about my struggles, thinking people will bring me down, or I’d end more alone then I felt at that moment, leading me further and further from the cross. From someone who will love me more than anyone else. Who would never leave me, no matter what I did. Who forgives me, without any questions. Through Christ, I have been set free. Satan will have no hold on me anymore.
I am worthy.
I am beautiful.
I am good enough.
I am forgiven.
I do have value in this team.
I am free.
I am loved.
“Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.” - colossians 3:12-13
Sometimes writing these blogs becomes hard. I feel a certain amount of pressure to relay some sort of profound experience and carefully articulate the contents of my heart. Eloquence aside, words are incapable of capturing all of the feelings that are tap dancing on the stage of my heart. I’m pretty sure most feelings do not actually have a name; there will always be certain sensations which are beyond appellation by Webster and friends.
I fear that when I return to the states, this whole experience will seem like a dream. Time here has passed so quickly, and I have learned more in the past 4 months than I have learned in eighteen years of school. Jesus is showing me how to love better, and the incredible power of His affection. In English, the term ‘love’ describes my feelings towards Chick-Fil-A, as well as God’s desire for us. The power of God’s love has been grossly underestimated by my own inability to distinguish His promises from my appetite for some waffle fries and a sweet tea.
While, I would love to simply restate the Gospel and try to give it more power with these words—I cannot. I can only praise God that someday, everyone will understand the intensity of a love that takes on death and wins. In the meantime, I will provide what I do have…two brief vignettes from this week- my encounters with God’s love:
NEW’S BACK IN TOWN!
On Sunday, Amber and I rejoiced over the opportunity to spend time with New.* I thought that I would never see her again after the Hong Kong scare (as addressed in former blogs). Weeks went by, and I was unable to reach her, and God had to do a lot of work in my heart, defining “surrender.” Last week, when New called us, I was overwhelmed and humbled by God’s faithfulness. On Sunday, we spent hours at the beach laughing and eating hundreds of pumpkin/watermelon/sunflower seeds that Noi bought us at Family Mart (cue ‘mustard seed’ metaphor).
LOVE OVER LANGUAGE
Kristina and I met Toy nearly two months ago on a prayer walk. She works during the day at a bar on Bangla Road, and she probably speaks less English than Winston, the bull dog that lives at SHE. Our time with Toy consists of bringing her McDonald’s sundaes, sitting beside her at her bar, and occasionally playing Connect 4. Last week, when we brought her a strawberry sundae, we somehow managed to communicate that we leave Thailand in two weeks. Her eyes became glossy, as she hugged us, and said something in Thai. We told her that we loved her and promised to come visit her again before we leave.
“As I was caught under a wave, I would get tossed in the air for a brief second. Gasping for air, I would reach out my hand and desperately call for help at the person on the shore. Yet each time was a different person that meant very dearly to me, and they would solemnly stand there watching.”
Confused? So was I, when I was woken up at exactly 2:35AM, April 11th from having a very confusing nightmare. Startled by how uneasy I felt from my drowning encounter, I decided to write down my dream and fall back asleep knowing I had a long day ahead of me. Little did I know that It was going to be one of the longest days of my life...
While Austen, Sabrina, Kristina and I were in the movie theater with our two Thai friends Pool and Annie we could feel our chairs rocking back and forth. In all honesty I thought the person behind me was kicking my chair and I was getting rather annoyed. I continually kept looking back trying to figure out who was kicking my chair when the European man sitting next to me asked, “Is your chair moving too?” Not sensing anything wrong the Thai woman by him sat up said rather loud, “something isn't right” as the movie and lights went black. Once people were beginning to be confused Austen leaned over and whispered, “Guys, on the way here I had the vision of a Tsunami.” Being naive, I pushed Austen's words aside and foolishly only cared about getting my money back. Our emotions quickly shifted to fear when we walked out of the theater and saw people running like mad men out of the mall. People were crying, shouting, and even leaving behind their shoes. With concerned eyes we were told that we experienced the earthquake and a tsunami from Indonesia was on its way and that we must leave. Our surroundings were rapidly turning into chaos, not to mention our thoughts.
NO ONE TRAINED US FOR THIS
Pool and Annie quickly pulled on our arms as we sprinted out of the mall colliding into a stampede of people heading towards the mountain. None of us knew what to do or where to go so we stuck with our gut and followed the locals. It was discouraging not knowing what to do and trying our best to not get split up within the crowd. The roads became constrained with cars, motorbikes and people competing for space to drive over the hill. Survival mode was kicking in as the people were ferociously relying upon themselves by locking up their shops and gating off their hotels since everyone was frenzied looking for high ground. I remember not knowing if we had time to climb the mountain and wanting to fall on my knees looking at our only refuge; an abandoned, wall-less concrete building.
The roof of the building was filled with Thai locals along with families and couples on vacation from all over the world. Two Thai security guards quickly informed the rooftop that the tsunami was on its way and should be at Patong beach by six o'clock (which we were right by). My heart ached watching mothers try to hold back tears in front of their children and for the people who instantly wept on their spouse. It continued to break watching the Thai people carry suitcases up the mountain and remembering the story of how the people would sleep in trees for months after the tsunami of 2004 because of their fear. Not knowing what was going on within me, my team and I began to spread out and pray for each person on the roof. We prayed over Muslims who eagerly told us that whatever we prayed felt right, and over fifteen year olds that declared the word “Amen”, and over the Thai people who desperately longed for a real God that not only creates but calms the storm instead of being manifested by idols.
While helicopters circled in the sky a dishonest source yelled out to all of the rooftops in our area that the tsunami has hit Patong beach. Simultaneously with the gut wrenching news the building began to shake from the tremors right under my feet. People making goodbye calls and writing good bye letters to their loved ones made me think, “Okay God. This is it.” Holding hands with my three beloved sisters we shouted in worship on the top of our lungs. If we were going to walk through heavens gates, we wanted to do it together hand in hand. We held our friend Annie in our arms as she uncontrollably screamed and wept while watching the security guards hold on to the only cement poles with tears in their eyes. Death or not; that rooftop was a divine appointment by God. I believe in the depths of my heart that God heard our pleas and rescued His children from the storm. Reminiscing back on my dream earlier that morning, I couldn't help but believe that God wanted me to think I was going to die that day. Not because He is cruel but because He desperately longed for me to fully and completely trust in him and ONLY him for the first time in my life. No relationship, no family member or friend could save me from a tsunami and the storms within my heart.ONLY GOD, MY SAVIOR CAN DO THAT! For the first time in my life I laid behind my insecurities and chains and gave them to the Lord KNOWING that He was the only one who could save me. I walked off of that rooftop with a new declared freedom and authority that was no longer embarrassed to shout the words of Jesus swelling inside my heart. I no longer have to put my worth and trust in other people helplessly waiting upon shore, but to be rescued from the miry depths of fear and walk into pure, redeemed FREEDOM.
