Pondering A Healing Obedience

Sunday we visit Bee's grave.

I expect it to be difficult.

Parked precariously on an uneven shoulder, there is a small hill to climb to get to the top where Bee's remains remain.  I steel myself, not wanting my own response to in any way add pain to the already anguished hearts of my Beloveds, his parents, who are but steps ahead of me.

It's a valiant but vain attempt.  Because standing there, I play that vicious phone call over again in my mind, hear Suradet's horrified, excruciated voice telling me that Bee is dead (see footnote).  I replay the details, still too fresh and sacred to recount here, of the week of grieving rituals in which I participated as a member of the family.  I remember that the last time I was standing here we were lowering the body of a beloved son into the ground.  Open weeping.  Military salute.  Defiant praise.

I remember, and cannot keep the sadness in.

We stand together, clutching one another, much like we did then.  We say nothing.  Ask no questions.  Make no bargains.  We just feel it.  Together.

I had wanted to come, to mark this moment, this place, Bee's life.  It's good.  And awful.  Because lament is both, and as such is at the core of what makes us human.



So is the choice to heal.  There is a marking of that this day too.  Earlier, before the graveside lament, there was a remarkable choice of obedience.  For the first time in just over four months, Suradet stood before his congregation and led them in worship.


It was a fair question when I returned last September.  How will the responsibilities of a Children's Home and a Church be taken care of while Suradet and Yupa grieve?  The answer lies in the truth that God has many wonderful ways to carry us.  These ways were manifest in part within the strong broader community of faith into which Suradet and Yupa have invested themselves over the years.   Suradet's extended network of pastor friends has helped on Sunday mornings to provide the pulpit teaching, and to continue to bring support and love and encouragement to them in their anguish.

And there was the timely arrival of Pastor Jaroen and his wife Dtu along with their three children, Deborah, David and Laywee.  This was not solely a response to the emergency.  We had chatted previously about when a new staff couple might be added here, given Pi Dao's slower pace these days, and the high demands of caring for such a large family.  Pi Dao is still here, of course.  Her 'nanny' duties are the same.  But Jaroen and Dtu have brought a fresh energy and gentle presence that has not only been enormously helpful in a general sense, but absolutely essential in these past four months.  Knowing them just this little bit these past few weeks, I can't help but believe God chose them especially.  Jaroen is a Bible College graduate and has pastoral experience combined with solid teaching and musical gifts, and an easy, open way with the children.  His wife Dtu's quick laughter and warm and welcoming countenance have been just what a shocked and disoriented family needed to help bring balance and consistency for such a time as this. 

These supports have allowed Suradet and Yupa to return to their normal duties at a pace that matched their healing....and their obedient choices toward that healing.  Hard choices.  Obedience in any form requires a ego-less fortitude, but when chosen in the midst of pain....almost impossible.  Almost.

The significance of this morning's choice is not lost on us even as it happens. The thought of leading worship has been particularly difficult for Suradet because of its close association with Bee who played both drums and guitar and was always part of the band on Sunday mornings.  So this next step of healing did not happen without courage.

And being led this day by this valiant warrior disguised as a broken man, a humble man, an honest man, I can't help but realize that this world is chalk full of unsung superstars who's obedient healing, while unseen, hold us all together.  This healing obedience is nothing short of heroic.

One of the stated purposes of this particular visit to Hot Springs at this particular time has been to provide what I can offer in terms of comfort and love and support to Suradet, Yupa, Bell and our whole Hot Springs family in this aftermath period since Bee's traumatic death.   And if my presence here, and my constant reassurances that I understand that this takes time, my spoken words as feeble they may be, my practical contribution in teaching Bible and ESL at the end of every day or preaching as invited, or anything else that my being here might assume to 'bring to' the equation...if any of it helps even just a little, then I am grateful.

But standing together with my brothers and sisters in worship this morning, and clutching together with my Thai family by Bee's graveside this afternoon, I am again reminded that over and over again, I receive tsunami-sized waves more than I ever attempt to bring.  To be in the presence of such as these, who am I to receive such a thing?

My own obedience of healing is made stronger.
2017 has yet to unfold her story, but this, here, this beginning of it here, like this?
I am lavished upon again.

Footnote:  On September 1, 2016 the beloved son of Suradet and Yupa was killed in a motorcycle accident on his way home from a birthday party with friends.  Bee was not at fault in the accident and an ongoing court case continues.  Prayers are appreciated as his mother and father, his sister Bell and the entire Hot Springs family grieve their loss and adjust to a new way of living.