lessons from Thailand

I was in Thailand on a mission/vision trip from Mar 22-Apr 2. I got to share the experience with my oldest daughter. It's impossible to sum the trip up briefly, but here are three things that stick in my heart:

1. "I am not in a hurry". The team learned "The Pilgrim's Creed" together: "I am not in a hurry. I am not in control. I will take only what God gives me. I will greet everyone I meet with peace." On the way to Chiang Mai we had a 45 minute layover in Seoul, during which we had to go from one terminal to another, including the security check. Needless to say, we had to move fast. On the plane, I read this:

Hurry is an inner condition that is fear-based... If I have only ten minutes to get from one end of the airport to another, I can move quickly without hurrying…when I walk in step with God I learn to say, "If I don't make that plane I'll be fine. God is with me. Things will work out. Meanwhile, I'll move my legs as fast as I can…"

As we learned to walk in step with God, we were often tempted to hurry or to take control. But the Pilgrim's Creed made us more aware of how God was orchestrating things.

2. What can we offer kids in villages in Thailand? We brought a large suitcase full of arts and crafts. We found that Thai kids like Rice Krispies treats (made with coconut oil instead of butter) but weren't so taken with finger Jello ("It's pretty good if I don't have to eat much of it." They're very polite.) But the most important thing we brought was love and attention and a sense of hope for a future beyond subsistence farming. We were the first group to include teens, members who were close in age to the kids we worked with. And we were the first group to spend entire days with them, even eating lunches with them and lunch and dinner on our final day. As a result, this was the first time that the Thai kids cried when they had to say good-bye… and we were crying, too.

3. God uses faithfulness in small things. A missionary family's life can be very ordinary. We spent time with three missionary families in Chiang Mai that Grace Community supports. A frequent topic of conversation was where to buy groceries. Yet the work that these missionaries are doing is life-changing for so many. And that reminded me that back here in the US, it's the same. God wants to change lives around us, yet he wants us to be faithful in the everyday stuff. A lot of life is about things like where to buy groceries. But that doesn't mean that there aren't greater purposes for why God has us living where we do. Treating a grocery clerk with respect can be as important as leading a Bible study.

At the same time, there are unique challenges faced by missionary families. The transitoriness is hard. Missionaries' kids (MKs) have to say good-bye too often, especially when they're on "home assignment" (and they often don't feel that the US is "home"). And the missionaries themselves feel pressure to have "successful" ministries on the field, just as Christians in the US want to participate in a "successful" church. And "success" is often interpreted to mean "big". The transitoriness and pressure can lead to a sense of isolation. So missionaries need emotional support just as much as Christians in the US. One suggestion we heard was to send out a missionary's best friend for a week: a small thing that supporting churches can do to provide emotional support on the field.

Even if you don't go to Thailand, God is active where you are. May we be able to see what God is doing in our own neighborhoods and may he give us the grace to cooperate with him.

learning to pray

It's really hard to teach kids to pick up after themselves: keeping their rooms clean, making their beds, attending to their laundry, etc. As a parent, I go back and forth between wanting them to learn the gratification and practical efficiency of having a neat room and getting them to learn that there are consequences to their actions, i.e., if they don't pick up after themselves, they'll have to live in a a messy room. The problem with the former is that I don't like having my efforts to keep the house in a livable condition are taken for granted. The problem with the latter is that they're pretty good at not caring if their room is neat or not. And so it continues.

It's also hard to find time to pray. I know I should pray for my kids, but I find that I often rush through my prayer times just mutter some general "bless the kids" kinds of prayers.

So today I put the two together and learned something about the "quotidian" (everyday) mysteries of prayer. As I was straightening up the kids' rooms it dawned on me that I could pray for them at the same time. I prayed over their beds, that they would feel secure and loved. I prayed while putting picking up their clothes that God would provide for their needs and more. I prayed over their desks that they would apply themselves to the schoolwork while learning that building character is more important than top grades. I even decided to fold some laundry and use that as an opportunity to pray. I considered each article of clothing and what it might mean to my daughter and then prayed that she would know that she is beautiful to me and to God and that she would be secure in that knowledge and confident in facing the challenges that life throws her way at this formative period of her life.

My prayers gave me joy and gratitude for my family. I'm still basking in it. Who knew that chores could be a thin place between this world and the heavenlies, a window to help me better glimpse the kingdom of God or even a doorway into God's presence: "In your presence there is fulness of joy."

But I still hate it when the kids don't realize the effort I put into keeping the house in order. I guess more prayer is needed, both for them and for me.

God intervenes

How does God intervene in our lives? When we think of intervention we usually think of somethng dramatic, sudden and forceful. But God's intervention is sometimes gentle and gradual. Is 42:3 says "a bruised reed he will not break". We cannot always bear sudden and forceful interventions because it would be too much for either our minds or our character. We often do better with something new growing slowly, gradually taking root in our lives. Jesus said the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed or like leaven. That is God's grace giving us what we can handle.

As I look back and consider what I am thankful for, I'm realizing that I may overlook ways that God has intervened that have unfolded slowly. In fact, I may have previously thought that I deserved the credit for these things because of my perseverance. Some of these things have happened so gently and gradually that I have just grew accustomed to them without realizing that it was God's work. I am now realizing that the credit goes to God, that it was his grace and his presence all along.

...it is the gift of God, not by works so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:9

starting with Christmas

We normally think of Christmas as ending the year. But for Christians the year starts with Christmas. OK, the year starts with Advent, but Advent is about preparing ourselves for the celebration of Christ's birth.

The Incarnation is God becoming human, being so close that humans were actually able to touch God. If we prepare for and celebrate Christmas well it should result in our being more deeply connected to God.

But too often we finish our Christmas celebrations feeling farther from God, not closer. We're cranky and exhausted. Our Advent season has been filled with commercial and family preoccupations. Advent and Christmas are emptied of the very Presence that was meant to fill them with meaning and wonder. And we start the New Year more aware of the barrenness of winter rather than filled with new hope for the year.

As the Advent season draws to a close consider how you can make time for God in the next few days before Christmas. Take a few minutes each day to simply be with God, to look for him around you. Stop your work at home or in the office and look at the world around you with different eyes.

Jesus is all around us: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock." May your Advent and Christmas open the door to a new year filled with His presence.

finding peace

Where is peace found? The common assumption is that peace is something interior, within my soul. So it follows that to get peace, I should quiet myself and look within, listen to God speaking in a "still, small voice."

But I am embodied. I am not just a soul/spirit that happens to have a body, a material container that can be discarded with no impact on my self. I suppose we try to convince ourselves of this because of the inevitability of death and the fear of our gradual loss of physical powers as we age. But it's really just denial.

The hope of the resurrection is that this world is to be redeemed, including our bodies. The redemption of the world must mean a lot to God. Because of it, he went through the agony of the Incarnation and the Crucifixion. (We have gushy sentimental feelings about the wonder of human birth, but I'm guessing that it was experienced very differently by One who was emptying himself and purposefully not grabbing after his rightful divinity. See Philippians 2:5-8.)

And so if I am to find peace, I need to seek it not just by calming my mind, but by engaging in the physical work that God is doing in the world. Shalom is right relationships. And so I find peace internally when I am rightly aligned with God physically.

Some athletes call this "being in the zone." Artists may work on a project and forget to eat. Engineers may fuel themselves on caffeine and pizza and work through the night. But the work doesn't have to be so grand. Kathleen Norris reminds me that even housework is a way for me to participate with God in keeping order in the universe. Brother Lawrence found that doing the dishes was a way to practice the presence of God.

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33 NIrV)

the feast

What if you threw a party and nobody came?

In Luke 14 Jesus tells the story of a rich man who throws an elaborate banquet and invites several of his rich friends. On the appointed day he sends a servant to remind the invitees. But each of them has an excuse for not attending. It's odd because they all knew the event was coming but they scheduled other things on that day: a real estate deal, purchasing a fleet of vehicles (a yoke of oxen would be like a truck, so five yoke/pair of oxen would be a fleet of work vehicles), even a wedding.

So what's Jesus' point? As always, Jesus is talking about the Kingdom of God. The rich people and religious leaders are talking about how wonderful God's Kingdom is. But Jesus is telling them that the Kingdom is right next to them and they are missing it. They are going about their rich and religious business and it all seems very legitimate. But the King is among them. So their business becomes their excuse for not noticing him.

God is throwing a party all around us. That was Jesus' good news: the Kingdom is right here next to us ("at hand" in the KJV). The core of his teaching and all of his stories were ways of peeling back the layers of the world to reveal the presence of the Kingdom: in a field (Mt 13:44), a yoke (Mt 11:29), a wedding (John 2), a tree, a vineyard, even a seed. But we aren't aware of it because we're occupied with all the things that make us feel important. It's not that these things aren't worth doing. It's that they can become walls instead of windows. It's like focusing so much on the glass that we miss the breath-taking panorama of God's glory just on the other side. The point isn't how grand the window is. Windows are ways to see what's outside, to let in beauty and light and warmth.

TV

I don't enjoy it myself. It's not the last impression I want to have of this world.

In the book Gilead (by Marilynne Robinson) it's 1956 and John Ames is reflecting on his life, which he has been told will end soon because of his feeble heart. Television is a new phenomenon. John considers TV to be a way of looking at the world, a world that he knows through experience and engagement. He considers TV to be a pale imitation of reality, lacking depth.

Which makes me wonder: How many people die watching TV? And how many people allow TV to become an alternate reality in which they live and move and have their being? It must be a lot, judging from the abundance of ads that are trying to create in us the desire to stare at little screens (or very big screens) for most of our waking hours. From which we can probably extrapolate that more and more people are spending their last hours staring at a screen. Who needs the Matrix?