Mai Nit Noy

Thim is my own sponsored child.

There are 17 amazing Sponsors at Highview, who have committed to providing a monthly life altering contribution to the lives of 17 corresponding and equally amazing children who live at Hot Springs.

Thim's my girl.

She's beautiful. Tall, graceful and smiling always. I've watched her grow more and more into a young woman these past four years. She's 16 now. And beautiful. I mentioned that, I know. But obviously you can see that.

Her temperament is very even. In the six times I've been to visit, she's always been so gentle and pleasant and smiling. She seems to be a stabilizing factor for the other girls a lot of the time. Just quiet and confident and nurturing.

She's expressed her affections freely with me, but always with that quiet reserve. Until this time.

On the Sunday before we left just as we were waiting for church to begin, she found me waiting just outside where it was (relatively) a little cooler. I was looking over the garden, trying to take in my last moments, making them count, trying not to think about how hard the goodbyes will be. Thim came up behind me.

She had a bracelet she had made for me. This is a common symbol of affection and friendship in Thailand. In fact, this wasn't the first I'd received from her. But this time she is speaking to me in Thai and she is choking on her words.

'I give you so little. You give me so much.' She is crying.

I take the hands that had just finished tying the bracelet around my wrist, and draw us to face each other, close. I muster my brain around the rising emotion and speak the best Thai I could manage.

'Mai nit noy,' I say. 'Not little. Thim growing up beautiful young woman, not little. You loving God, worshiping God, not little. Thim grow up beautiful woman become teacher (she had told me once that this was her goal). I will come and see you teaching. If Thim has husband and have babies, I will come hold your babies.'

We're both crying now. And we're hugging, and I'm saying over and again words I now know well, "Ruk mahk, Thim." I love you so much, Thim. "Kit-teung makh." I will miss you so much.

I call Thim 'my girl' but she is in fact very much her own girl. She calls me 'mother' in her letters. Imagine that. Another gift that is anything but little. Mai nit noy.

In fact everything about Thim is mai nit noy.

And who am I that these things should be offered me?

Mountain Sunset Proclamations

How lovely on the mountains
are the feet of those who
bring good news,
who proclaim peace,
who bring good tidings,
who proclaim salvation,
who say to Zion,
"Your God reigns!"
Isaiah 52:7

Dear Suradet and Yupa,

Your feet are lovely.

Respectfully,

Ruth Anne

Breathing Heaven

Who can breathe
in a moment like this?

Hot sun
Cool water
Hearts burning in worship passion

Decided to follow Jesu they did
Wanting to make it public
Wanting to obey what He said to do

Mark it
Here
Now
With this community of wonder

They waited for me to come for this
Unworthily given this gentle honour
To baptize beautifully new believers
To stand knee deep with my brother/friend/fellow warrior
And bear witness to spiritual rebirth

Oh my soul!
How much of heaven can you handle?

Pictures by Megan Ogilvie

Waiting for My Soul to Catch Up

Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
Psalm 42:7

Jet lag is an odd sort of place to be. It's almost as if your body, mind and soul travel in different dimensions of time.

Your body gets home first, along with your luggage. And it's your body that has the first hot water shower and scrubs the red dirt stains off the bottom of your feet and starts the laundry and has a first non rice meal. And to be real honest, it's your body that kisses your husband hello and receives the enthusiastic hugs of grandchildren.

I think maybe your mind arrives a day or so later. Starts to answer a few emails, checks in with co-workers about items needing attention, puts your purse back together and gathers the papers you'll need to take into the office for 'just the morning' (I promise) tomorrow. It's your mind that responds to requests for reconnection with friends for coffee or a phone call. It's your mind that writes a blog.

But your soul? I'm honestly not sure exactly when my soul even leaves Thailand. Or if it's not still there right now, sitting quietly with Nut, letting the excruciating beauty of the waterfall wash over the deep that calls to Deep.

This sensation, of waiting for a while until my soul is ready to leave the intense and exotic spirituality of Thailand, and rejoin my abundant and satisfying life in Canada, is exaggerated this year. We went as a Team of 11, and with a significant task to accomplish in Day Camp. I celebrate with huge joy the work God has done in us, and the ways in which He was evident throughout the camp time. But the leadership and pastoral requirements were the priority, and my soul was respectfully but most definitely asked to wait its turn. Perhaps as we gain more experience in bigger team/task focused trips I will learn ways to inject my own soul time into the mix. But not this trip.

So if I seem vacant in the next few days, I am. Please forgive me, it's nothing personal. It's just me, waiting for my soul to get home.

My thanks to Megan Ogilvie for these incredible photos.