One Treasure At A Time: Bee, The Little Mama

It's a game much like rock, paper, scissors. At least that's how it ends.

It's after supper and getting dark one night at Hot Springs. The meal is being cleared away and there is that general after supper lingering at the table for the adults. Yupa is enjoying a rare moment to sit, and she is doing her best to engage me in "conversation". The children are busy, being primarily responsible for clean up, except not all of them at once. That's why Bee is free to play with Bao.

She does this a lot. In fact, if I had to pick Bao's favourite among all the other little mama's she could be with, it would be Bee, hands down. They are often together. Like now, in the gathering dusk, sitting on the low wall that separates the dining area from the upward climbing jungle behind us.

The game is a song, really. There are actions and repeating sounds and at one point the players join hands and move their arms back and forth in a seesawing motion. And it all ends with a flourish, each player choosing a hand position that somehow determines who wins.

Every time, Bao laughs loud, whether she wins or loses. And then, in the predictable and apparently universal way of two year olds she says, "Eek tee!" Again! And over and over, with patience beyond most adults, Bee does it again.

This is the gentleness of Bee. She's kind and easy going, patient in other ways besides a willingness to repeat a childish game. She smiles easily, and seems calm in the midst of the happy chaos of living in a home with 15 children. She's affectionate and nurturing and talks in quiet tones. The day we broke out the playdoh, Bee stayed with Bao to help make sure she had fun. It's easy to see why Bao favours her.




Bee, like a few other of the girls, has her hair long and straight. The night she and Saiy stayed with me in the Mission Centre, they both took turns brushing each other's hair, and then played "model" with my hat (actually Debbie's hat), walking down an imaginary runway to show how grown up they were.




Even now, two months later, remembering her smile, her gentle hand slipping into mine as we would walk down the driveway....makes me smile too, and makes me miss her. A lot. When I was there, Bee drew me a picture of a Thai country scene and I put in on my fridge. In English she's written "Bee loves Ruth".

I spent some time this evening sorting through my pictures again. I always think I'm going to do this as a task, you know, as if it was something to do that I needed to get done. Sort the pictures, give them names so I can find them easier. All that.

But it always does a number on me. Truth is, I miss them so much. Two months down, four to go. I'm going back in May.

Meanwhile, we've been able to send money for mattresses! As soon as we get some pictures, I'll post those too.

Isaiah 46 verse 4

I'm going to break from my Thailand ruminations for a bit to comment on the events of the past few weeks, both for me personally and for Highview as a whole.

It's been quite a ride. Both my Mom and my Dad, having been on a waiting list for quite some time, were able to move from Scarborough to Kitchener within three days of each other. This is a good thing. The drive back and forth had become next to impossible since June of this year and the other family matters requiring time and energy. Mom and Dad are becoming more frail and require more attention, mostly emotional, so being closer seemed imperative.

If you've ever done this with loved ones, however, you'll know that it's been a mixed blessing. There's not a whole lot of notice given and you have to act on it or you lose the space. Doing the moves was and still is extremely taxing, physically, mentally, emotionally. Lots of grunt work (my husband is the BEST!), tons of paper work, and even more required to explain and calm and reassure two extremely important people in my life, that the world is not coming to an end, and yes, you will get your stewed prunes for breakfast. The settling in process takes time and there are a whole slew of new people looking after my parents that I have to get to know, and whom have to get to know us.

Overlapping all of this, a dear friend and an Elder at Highview, suffered at heart attack that led to a diagnosis that put him on a schedule for open heart surgery. Brian's role at Highview is crucial to the smooth operations of the financial and business aspects of what it takes to be a church. So as well as engaging the church community in helping to make sure his family is supported and cared for, there has been the added dimension for us as an Elders' Team of working through all the "tasks" and doing the appropriate downloads.

Needless to say, it's been a crazy way to round off a crazy year. And it's not over yet. All throughout, I have pressed hard, hard into God, seeking from Him everything I need, because, well frankly, all of this is WAY beyond my own abilities and resources.

Tuesday morning, the day after hearing that Brian was facing surgery, and having had time to start making (yet another) list of all that needed to be taken care of in light of these events, I woke up early. As my mind snapped into "problem solving mode", I realized that I very badly needed to turn my worrying into praying (Philippians 4:4-9, so that's what I did. Even as I stayed under the covers, curled around my pillow, I began to engage with God about all that was going on, asking Him to give me and give all of us clear heads and calm attitudes, great ideas and strong hearts.

As the "divine download" continued, I caught a picture in my mind that was similar to some Anne Geddes photos I've seen. You know - great big strong hands, and a tiny vulnerable baby cradled in them. I had a sense of being cupped in God's great big hand as I lay in my bed. And, as clearly as I ever hear these things, I heard in my mind, "I will sustain you."

It was a very real, very wonderful God-moment for me in the midst of incredibly demanding days (with more to come). Afterwards, as I was thinking more about what I had "heard", I said to myself, "I think that's probably in the Bible somewhere" :). So I looked it up. Here's what I found.

Isaiah 46:4
Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and and I will rescue you.

I am taking all of this very personally :). The God I know is an intimate God, eager to engage with me in the deepest places of who I am. His care and presence is as real to me and more than any I have ever known from my dearest friends.

I am also taking this as being for Highview as well. God has sustained us and carried us already through so much. He's not about to drop us now.

As I write, new developments on an entirely different front are also happening. The ride could get rougher. God is still bigger. And He is sustaining, carrying it all.

Resting,

Ruth Anne

One Treasure At A Time: Entorn (Happy Birthday)

I'm trying to imagine what it would be like to be an introvert plonked into a family of 15 kids?

Personally, I like my time alone. When the intensities of peopledom overwhelm me, as they do from time to time, I need my solitude. Just let me be quiet so that I can recharge. Even during my kid-purposed trip to Thailand last month, and even with my heart fully engaged in getting to know these amazing children better, I was glad to have a separate room, a separate space to retreat to when I needed it. I like my alone time. I need my alone time.

I'm pretty sure Entorn and I have this in common. In the picture above, Entorn is the boy in the black and yellow shirt, furthest to the left and half hidden by Somchai in front. Looking through the photos I've brought back, I notice this to be a common feature of the group shots. Entorn is often "in the background".

The oldest of all the children, Entorn is the 14 year old "older brother" to all those wonderful, but talkative siblings. He's quiet, and doesn't smile easily, to be honest. In larger groups, he seems a little at odds with himself. At Wiang Pa Pao, when the Hot Springs kids were at the retreat, I noticed he didn't join in on the singing at all, sort of kept to himself, even though there were plenty of other boys his age there.

By the time we were back at Hot Springs, though, some of that did change. The singing part, at least. During morning and evening devotions, he participated with an energy I hadn't seen in the larger group. And throughout the week while I was there, I certainly did observe him interacting in big brother kinds of ways with the other boys. He seemed to be really into the balsa wood airplanes I'd brought to assemble and paint.

I'm not sure what he made of me. Who was this lady from Canada with the markers and wood crafts and random candy? What's with the crying that day she arrived? Why is she taking so many pictures of our chickens? I'm sure he wondered. I wish I could have known for sure what his questions would be, talked more, kibbitz'd more. I wanted to know him as much as the others, so I tried.

At home, I confess, I am sometimes at a loss to know how to express my friendly intentions towards boys Entorn's age. Already there's a culture difference, even in my own world. But here, with the language and the culture being so out of my league, how on earth would a 51 year old white woman be able to make friends with this northern Thai adolescent?

I'm not sure I did. Eventually, I did learn to ask for Entorn's assistance any time there was a task that required some physical strength. That helped. I remember one time in particular when a candy bag was being stubborn, and I caught his eye, showed him I couldn't open it, and handed it to him.

With one two fisted tug he got the bag open, handed back to me....smiling! It was the only time I was able to sustain eye contact with him. He was so pleased to have done something I was too weak to do. And I don't think he minded the candy either.

I had such a short time there, really. I realize that more and more now that I'm back. There's so much more I would want to do and learn and know; so much further I would hope to go in making connections with each and every child. But I didn't push. Certainly not with Entorn.

Here's a sobering consideration. If Hot Springs as an orphan home is barely 2 years old, and Entorn is 14, what was happening for him for the first 12 years of his life that could make him reluctant? His bio explains that both his parents are dead and that for a time he lived with his grandmother, until she was no longer able to care for him. He's from the Karen tribe, a minority with little status in Thai culture. How much living has gone on before this to make him wary of me, I wonder? Wary of everyone?

It's part of the knowing that bothers me. I expose my heart to so much sadness when I love them. Entorn is a reclaimed life because of Asia's Hope, and for all the future potential, we can celebrate and be hopeful.

But there is a life already lived that informs the one being played out now. And it's not a nice story. Not for Entorn. Not for any of our kids.

We have no idea.

Entorn's birthday is December 6th. To be honest, because I didn't ask for birth years, I'm actually not sure if he's turning 14 or 15 on Sunday. I'm going to ask Suradet. Either way....Happy Birthday Entorn. May every birthday from here on be a celebration of all you will become, and all God will reclaim from where you've been.

I miss him. I miss them all.

One Treasure At A Time: Dtor

She's 12 but she seems older. That's unusual, at least in my experience. The Thai are not large people. I'm 5 foot 3 inches and most of the time I tower over everyone, every female for sure. And it's not that Dtor is tall or even looks older. She just seems older.

It might be her subtlty. Even in a culture of gentleness, her quiet grace stands out from the other children. She's not pushy. Not giggly. Not somber, by any means, but just a bit more serious than the other girls.

It might be her confidence. Right from the beginning, Dtor made good eye contact with me, and seemed concerned about my well being, how I was feeling, how I was experiencing things. She was the one who took the best care of me during the day at the Zoo, making sure I knew the names of the animals, making sure I got water to drink. She stayed quietly by my side, even when all the others would take off to get a better look at the pandas, or the lion.

Maybe she seems older because of her more advanced English. Still not conversational, but good enough that she would at times attempt to talk to me about concepts, not just vocabulary. While the other children made helpful attempts to teach me the words of things....cat, flower, colours......Dtor would often search for words that were more abstract. That ability, and how it lead to one conversation in particular, will always be a moment of gold for me.

We were in the main room where I was staying at Hot Springs. This is a separate building, built by the Korean Methodist denomination and meant to be a place for people to stay on "retreat" at Hot Springs. As I've described before, my room was fairly large, probably 20 by 15, and with only my one mattress on the floor, there was lots of room for visiting and playing and dancing.

It was in the middle of one of these happy, noisy times that Dtor stopped and sat beside me. She indicated that she wanted to look at my Thai/English dictionary, and she spent a fair bit of time searching through it. I could understand. Often the words I needed, or at least I thought would best express my ideas, weren't there. Probably because the same ideas in English don't translate exactly into Thai. Language is tricky like that.

Dtor persisted though, because eventually she found what she was looking for, kept her finger in the page and tapped on my arm. I turned away from the rest of the commotion and said simply "Ka." It's an all purpose, non-translatable female tense word that, in that moment told her I was listening.

In a mixture of Thai and English, referring to the dictionary, she started by showing me the word for "bridge", and then...."You, bridge, me. You bridge my heart. Canada. Sponsor. You bridge." Throughout she kept indicating her heart, pointing to it, tapping on it, then open palm on her chest. It's where her hand rested when she was finished, her dark and beautiful eyes relentlessly locked on mine. And then a quick, slightly embarrassed smile.

For a moment everything else that was going on in that room pushed back and faded out. It was just me and this girl. And I was undone. There was no question as to what she was trying to tell me. She was clearly understanding that my being there, in Thailand, from Canada, bringing gifts from our church, our sponsors, was connecting her to just a whole lot of love. And that she felt it, she got it, and she wanted me to know.

I took her hand from her own chest and placed it on mine. Then I held it there with my hand, and I took my other hand and rested it carefully, gently on hers. Instinctively, she laid her hand on top of mine, and the connection was completed. We kept looking at each other for a moment, not wanting to ruin, by our clumsy attempt at words in each other's language, all that was being said so eloquently without words. The sound of that silent, wordless conversation of simple love was certainly the most unique song my soul has ever heard. No one has ever spoken to me so clearly without words before, not like this.

It didn't last long. It was strong enough in its brevity. But even in those fleeting moments, Dtor gave me a such a gift.
They're children. Dtor is only 12. But I wonder sometimes, if the harshness of the life she was rescued from, has been cultivated by God already into something deep and unusual. It's hard to tell. I was only with them for two short weeks. I hope to find out more when I go back. But I do know this. That I am changed. That if indeed I have been a bridge between Canada and Thailand, between Highview and Hot Springs, between the Sponsors and the children, then that has been an enormous privilege.

But more. The way they loved me was simple, uncluttered, and honest. And that changes my soul.

It's crazy, but there seems to be things God wants to teach me that He needs to take me half a world a way to learn.

One More Thing About Bao....and Abby

There was one more thing I meant to include in the last blog. It's the connection between my own granddaughter Abby, and my "adopted" granddaughter Bao.

In all of the adventure that has been Thailand, what has struck me over and over is the mystery that two groups of people who need each other, for very different reasons, could have been brought together from two completely opposite sides of the planet. It boggles my mind. That God would answer prayer, connect the needs and the resources, in such an unexpected, unplanned (by us) way..... It makes me love Him more and worship Him with wider eyes.

The other night I sat with Abby and we painted a Dora picture to send to Bao. Abby has been included in Gramma's trip to Thailand as much as possible for her little two year old brain to process. Before leaving I told her I was flying in a plane to go to Thailand to play with some very special children. Abby got right into it. Through the blog, Mommy was able to show her pictures that kept her in the loop of all Gramma's crazy adventures. And while I was gone, she talked about my absence in ways that made it clear that she knew I was away, what I was doing, and that I would be back soon.

Of course, now that my heart has been so captivated by the beautiful faces of our Thai family, I am eager to help Abby make some meaningful connections. So, in a packet I'll be sending in the next week or so, I'm going to include Abby's picture to Bao. Look carefully and you'll see that she requested some airplanes to be painted on her picture. She knows this painting is on it's way to Thailand. I will include this picture of Abby and a short note to make sure Bao knows who painted it.

Aren't they cute? Two two year olds, one in Canada, one in Thailand, connected. I wonder what God might do with that?

Anyways....just an addendum to the last blog, and another reason to be amazed again at the ways of a God whose heart is for the children.

One Treasure At A Time: Bao

Learning Thai is really hard. Poot yahk! During my time at Hot Springs last month, I do believe I added to my vocabulary and improved my tones. But honestly? I am no where NEAR having an actual conversation.

Except with Bao.

Bao is the youngest member of the Hot Springs family, 2 going on 3. She and I....we had the best conversations! "Good morning, how are you? Is your food tasty? What's your name? My name's Bao, what's yours? Today it's hot, isn't it? What's this called?" We could go at it for 5 or 6 whole sentences!!! It's because we're on about the same level. No actually, she's way ahead of me because she can at least understand a whole lot more of what's being said to her.

I've described before the wai....that gentle pressing together of the hands just under your chin (or higher depending on who you're standing before) and the ever so slight bow of the head and shoulders, indicating your respectful greeting. It's charming. Coming from the adults, it's a lovely acknowledgement of being present. Coming from the older children, it's a delightful show of good manners. But coming from Bao, her little two year old hands pressed together, her little still-baby voice saying "Sawatdee,ka!" followed by a shy, sweet smile....it's impossibly adorable.

Without realizing it, Bao has given me a great gift. Over the course of the two weeks I was in Thailand, from our first meeting at the airport, and the brief time together at the dedication service that first Saturday, then all day at the Chiang Mai Zoo, all leading up to the time I would actually live at Hot Springs for five days, Bao progressively let down her shy baby guard and let me be her friend. She walked carefully with me from our first uncertain introductions, all the way to our last energetic hug and frenetic wavings goodbye as I walked through that last gate at the airport.

In between were some wonderful moments. Our first shy game of "round and round the garden". Her delight when I brought out the paints that morning and the beyond-two concentration she put to her picture. The day when we were watching them assemble the computer and she came up to me, stood leaning into my lap, all giggly and conspiratory, to tell me that Fruk was a monkey (and I understood her!!!). And the report coming back to me that the day after I left Hot Springs (to go back to the Flinchums and gather myself before heading back to Canada), she woke up, came to the breakfast table and asked, "Eyi Rut, youteeni?" "Where did Granny Ruth go?"

The neat thing about that is this. Even though I had thought I would introduce myself to the kids at Hot Springs as Granny Ruth, and even though that was indeed the role I intended to fill while there, cultural protocol required I be referred to as Ajahn Rut, Teacher or Rabbi Ruth. That's what everyone called me while I was there. Now perhaps her parents called me Granny Ruth to Bao. But however it went down, it was a great gift for me to know that, bottom line, when it came to why I was really there......Bao got it.


I'm trying to imagine what it would be like to be raised in a family where you have 14 older brothers and sisters, and they're all MUCH older than you. There's at least a 6 or 7 year gap between Bao and Sai and/or Fruk, the next youngest kids. I don't know what it feels like, but I can tell you that it looks like a lot of fun.

Bao moves in and among the other children with ease and confidence, knowing she's got a whole lot of people looking out for her. At any time, any of the children will be talking with her, singing a silly song with her, picking her up and giving her gentle, hilarious attention. The favoured one among all the other older children seems to be Bee (Pornsawan). It was Bee who held Bao the most. It was Bee who Bao looked for to comfort her if Yupa wasn't around. It was Bee who played with Bao and talked to her and taught her things. Next time I'm there, I'm going to have Bee teach me the singing game she played often with Bao...the one that ends up very much like rock, paper, scissors, but has an elaborate set of hand motions and music that all happens in the lead up.


I miss her. I miss them all.

In one of my postings before I actually got there, I think I wrote something about loving like you won't get hurt. Sounded good then. Now...it just hurts.

I'm fully two weeks back. I actually can't really tell if the jet lag was harder this time or last. Certainly, my emotional processing has been very different, recognizing that the whole experience was way more positive, way more filling than that first shock-filled trip last winter. I am most certainly in a far better head space right now than I was when I got back last time. Physically, I think my body had more to adjust to with the added factor of the Malaria medicine. And, to be honest, coming back to the demands of my very demanding life (more so in the past five months than even previously) was a bit of a shock in itself. It was a wonderful gift to be far away from the very painful and difficult things our church and family have had to walk through in the last little while. So there were a number of factors.

Whatever it was that you might want to factor in, it took until just this last Thursday before it felt like I had my head back. Just woke up Thursday morning and I knew...I'm back! Whew! I'm glad! Now I can get on with it.

Sermon prep has been the hardest, trying to keep my concentration when my heart is still rather mushy. Problem solving and trying to engage with the urgent needs presented by patient but rightfully expecting people who have held down the fort while I've been away. It's been a rather challenging two weeks.

But it clicked back into place Thursday morning, and I have energy again for all the delightful and even not so delightful components of the life and ministry God has so generously lavished on me.

Thanks everyone for bearing with me. For my family and the Staff and Elders at Highview especially, I appreciate your patience. It's hard when someone is back but not back, I know.

Except....I miss them.

One Treasure At A Time: Somchai

In no particular order and one at a time, I thought I'd introduce you to the children of Hot Springs Orphan Home. It was one of the priorities of my time there last month, to get to know them and bring back as much of my knowing as I possibly can. Feels like such a big thing to do, to try to describe all the complexities of what's gone on in my heart. But, at the very least, I can give you a bit of a glimpse into the lives of the individual children.

Here's Somchai. Somchai is a happy, confident guy, 10 years old. His nickname is Nong, but for some reason, he and Entorn both, seemed to be called by their given names more than their nicknames.

Here's a little aside. The reason nicknames are so popular in SE Asia is that it is thought to protect the child from evil spirits. Apparently the evil spirits are easily confused. The child is given their name at the naming cermony, but is called a nickname thereafter so the spirits don't notice and won't bother them. While our Hot Springs kids are being raised in a Christian environment, the tradition of nicknames is very much part of the culture. During my time there, I got to know the children by their nicknames mostly.

Back to Somchai. He's got a great sense of humour, Asian style (which I still don't entirely get but which I enjoy just the same). When I was there I observed him interacting with all his brothers and sisters with a lot of energy. That's a nice way of saying he likes to tease. But he's never mean about it.

It took him (and the other boys) longer to warm up to me than the girls, but when he did, I felt like we were good buddies. He really enjoyed working on the wooden crafts I'd brought, and spent a long time painting his helicopter. In a more relaxed mood when he was hamming it up for the video camera, he did some "rapper" kind of moves and seemed to be really good at it.

He likes this really spicy dish called papaya salad. It's served mostly at "fast food" places, and I tried some and....it's HOT! I guess it's the "happy meal" of Thailand, because a lot of the kids told me it was their favourite food.

During morning and evening devotions, Somchai is right into it, singing and clapping with a lot of energy. It's hard to know exactly how any of the children feel about their family, but my observsations would suggest that Somchai is very well adjusted and is enjoying life at Hot Springs very much.

I miss him.

I miss all of them.

I'm finding it rather distracting.

A String of Diamonds for Yupa

I have raised two children. My husband Ken and I were given two incredible gifts in our daughter Kristyn and our son David. They're adults now. We're empty nesters. I remember, when it was all over, when we were finished with the "launching" phase, it felt like we were marking the end of something rather enormous. Two kids, from birth to adulthood. We're done! Wow, what a HUGE accomplishment. By the grace of God we had finished the task. To mark such a feat, and to honour my mothering, my husband presented me with a ring bearing three small diamonds. One for Kristyn, one for David and one for the child we'd lost to miscarriage.

That was for raising two kids.

Then there's Yupa. What would it take to be Mom to 15?

Suradet and Yupa have two kids of their own; Bee, their son who is 13, and Bao, their daughter who is 2. I know from first hand experience, that would be a big enough task in and of itself. This is a ministry family. Suradet is pastor at Hot Springs Korean Methodist Church, and together with Yupa they lead, teach and shepherd a small but lively congregation just north of Chiang Mai. Yupa herself has a teaching ministry, clear to me the morning I stayed for their Sunday services, when Yupa led a preservice Bible teaching. They garden, raise chickens (and frogs), take Bee to school and music lessons. It would have been a full and fulfilling life.

But there were 13 children who needed shelter and love and nurturing. Thirteen extra kids who had no place to grow. So Yupa's mother-heart made room. In a very concrete way, she is a woman who is living out the compelling mandate of Matthew 25, when Jesus made it clear that whatever we do for "the least of these", the homeless and hungry and poor, we do for Him.

Yupa is not a flashy person. Most Thai's aren't. She's simple and humble and at times so quietly doing what she does behind the scenes, she's practically invisible. Not that she isn't very much her own person. I can't pretend to understand enough of Thai culture yet to figure out the systems of her status, but from everything I could see, she was highly respected by the children, by the other staff at Hot Springs, by the congregation, and by Suradet for sure. But her presence isn't a commanding one, at least not as measured by volume or style or other ways our culture often identifies who's "in charge".

I don't think she finds it necessary to be anything or anyone but who she is. Because the strength of her personal godliness is such that something fundamentally good and strong just kind of hovers around her, she just is who she is.....and the children "get it".

It still amazes me that she and I could become friends without saying so much. For all my life, I've relied on talking to develop my relationships. The words shared between myself and the important people in my life, they mean everything to me. In so many ways, the words have seemed to be what make or break the friendship.

But not when I was making friends with Yupa. There was something else. Our language differences forced it. I'm not sure I can actually identify it yet. It was more of a quality of being that connected us. Certainly it helped that right from the get go there was a mutual appreciation. Before I actually met her, I was already impressed with her compassion and faith. She knew, before I arrived, that I was part of the group of people called Highview who had agreed to partner with her and Suradet to help raise these precious children. We both understood together the fundamentals of a faith in God through Jesus, and the adventure of a spiritual journey. So the relationship had a good foundation to get us started.

But once I got there, from the first greeting at the airport, to the gratitude-soaked prayer time my first hour at Hot Springs, to the "conversations" over breakfast, and every interaction in between, I felt as if I was welcomed into the unconditional love of a friend I'd known for a long, long time.

Even so, and even after spending time living with this family, I still can't get my head around what it would take to mother 15 kids. I am not made of such stuff. Yupa is. And my respect for her, and all that God has given her inside of herself to do what He's called her to do, is huge.

So I prayed for her again this morning. I prayed that God would provide the physical stamina to go through the amazing mechanics of her day. I asked that she be given the emotional capacity to nurture beyond herself. I prayed for great wisdom and clarity as she knows each child as individuals, guiding them, directing them to become all God has created them to be. I asked that her own family, Suradet and Bee and Bao, would be blessed abundantly for their generosity to include others into the circle.

And it strikes me as quite remarkable, and yet another good gift of my life, that I have been so openly invited into that circle too.


Yupa, I would, if I could, bestow upon you a string of diamonds to represent the astounding beauty of who you are and what you are doing for "the least of these."

Wait....There's More!

I've been home a week.

Is that true? My body, my head and my heart all seem to tell me different things. My body still thinks I'm at 30,000 feet somewhere over the Pacific, lost in a continuum of time zones where sleeping and eating make no sense at all. My head struggles to get back to the ministry, both task and people, that make up the fabric of all that I truly love about my life and calling here. But my heart....My heart keeps tugging me back to a simple cluster of buildings and the 15 children who live there in the lush green of the foothills of the Himalayas.

I see their faces, I hear their voices, I sing the songs I learned in Thai, knowing few words only but worshipping along just the same with the simple faith of people who have so little and have so much all at the same time.

There's so much more to tell, especially about the five days I was actually at Hot Springs when blogging was not possible but the experiences were abundant. So if you'll indulge me just a bit longer, I'll keep the blog going, and let it be a vehicle by which I can help bring my heart home.

Let's talk about how a day begins and ends at Hot Springs. I think once before, I've compared the Asia's Hope orphan home experience as the "best of summer camp", and this certainly is the case when it comes to morning and evening "devotions". Now if right here you're thinking of something dry and obligatory, you've got the wrong idea. True, the morning times - starting at 6 a.m., 5:30 on Sundays - start with perhaps less energy than the children are capable of on full tilt, and some of them stagger in still wearing pyjamas. But their participation and enthusiasm, not just for the singing but for the teaching time, is quite remarkable, morning and evening.

Suradet leads, and he just gets everyone started by playing the guitar and singing with great energy and skill. He makes sure there are songs that the kids can really get into, and he includes specific ones that will help to teach his point for that particular lesson. I know this because many of the songs are familiar tunes to me. Perhaps my Missionary Alliance background is an advantage here. The CM&A were very instrumental in planting Christian churches throughout South East Asia all during the horrors of the 70's. Many missionaries endured much to stay. Their heritage lingers in many ways, but at least in part in the choruses and hymns that have been translated into Thai. I can recognize and sing along fairly easily.

Another advantage I use to help with the language barrier is the English/Thai New Testaments that are available on the back table. By following along in English, aided by my knowledge of Thai numbers and willing assistance from Thim or Miki or any of the other girls who cluster around me, I'm actually able to get the gist of what Suradet is teaching.

One morning, he very simply leads us to pray through the Lord's Prayer, verse by verse. When it gets to the part where it says, "Forgive our sins as we forgive those who sin against us", he has us pray, all together and out loud, in a time of confession and grace. When it gets to the part about "Lead us not into temptation", he has us pray for God's strength to face whatever might come our way this day. And.....I find it profoundly humbling to pray together with my new family, "Give us this day our daily bread", knowing that for them it's far more than just memorized words to an overused prayer.

Step by step we work it through. Step by step we pray together. I feel completely part of what is happening, very much just another child welcomed into this circle of compassion and care.

I woke up again really, really early this morning. Maybe it's still just the jet lag. Or maybe it's my heart thinking I'm going to be getting up, splashing some water on my face, getting myself dressed and walking down the hill around to the front of the building to climb the stairs and begin the day with Entorn and Somchai and Bee and Miki and Thim and Dtor and Sai and Siy and Teh and Milk and Nut and Nam and Fruk and Bee and Bao and Suradet.

I'm not. I've been home a week. And I'm glad to be home. I am. For one thing I can eat something else besides rice! But there are more stories to tell and glimpses to share so you can know how to love them.

So....there's more. There's lots more.

Making Good Use of the Jet Lag

With a sleeping/eating schedule all out of wonk, I figure I might as well use this bit of time at 4 a.m. when I'm wide awake, to gather some more thoughts as I continue to process and ponder. The truth of it is, God has provided just so much in terms of big and little moments while I was in Thailand, and even though I know I will never capture them all into words, I'd like to try to share with you as much as I can. It's all part of Year Two of Highview's Two Year Plan, that we STRENGTHEN our connections with the people in SE Asia (and Haiti too, but that's for another blog :) And since God's seems to have used this October trip to get us off to such a phenomenal start with strengthening our connections at Hot Springs, it seems prudent for me to open up that particular GANGWAY as wide as I can with my stories.

Let's go back to Hot Springs for a minute (how I wish I really could), to the afternoon when the children were writing their letters to their sponsors.

First, in the whole language "barrier" thing, I have to say that it really wasn't. Not between me and Suradet and Yupa, not between me and kids. There was such a commitment on everyone's part to be friends, that we all went over and above to try to understand and be understood. In fact, it might be said that if the same kind of commitment was made in all my relationships, there'd be way better communications all around. It seems to me now, back in an English-speaking world, that it was the attitudes and not the words that made the communications possible. That's something I'll have to think about some more.

So, somehow I communicate to Yupa that the sponsors would love to have a picture and/or letter from their individual children. I have my Thai/English dictionary, and I'm acting things out, but the request is greatly helped by the fact that there's really no Thai word for sponsor, they just use the English word, elongating the last syllable. So it sounds like "sponSORE".

Yupa's face lights up with understanding, and then she informs the children. There's no hesitation. They scatter for a minute and then they're all back with paper and pencils and markers (which they could use more of, by the way), each taking a spot at the table and setting to work.

This was no quick, barest minimum effort. This was an afternoon event. I never once had to remind any child who their sponsors were. They have your pictures and names in special places. They are keen to print things off in English whenever possible. The love colour, most of them and added as much as they could to their creations.

They talk a lot while they are working, enjoying the hot afternoon under the shelter, showing each other what they've done so far. When it gets to writing things down, several of them start running over asking me how to write certain things in English. Again, I am not even sure, trying to remember, how much they are saying in Thai that I now understand, and how much they are saying in English. I did find it helpful that I had learned at least a basic understanding of the Thai script because sometimes they would write simple words in Thai and I knew what sounds they were trying to express and could translate into English. Conversely, the studies they have been doing in English also proved helpful, not just that afternoon, but throughout the entire time I was with them.

As is normal among children, some are more creative and artsy than others. But, Sponsors, just know this. Every single letter/picture was given focused attention and effort that afternoon. You have a very significant role in their lives, and even though not everyone could be there with me this October, or may be able to come on future trips, the reality of your presence and the role you play in their lives is HUGE to them. You are very real people to them. There is an understanding that your compassion is directly connected to their survival, and they do not take this lightly.

I believe that understanding extends to our church as a whole, actually. Highview's interest in Hot Springs is clearly understood as a means by which God has and is answering the prayers of people facing great needs with few resources. Two years ago, Suradet and Yupa were fasting and praying in earnest for God's provision. Two years ago, we were fasting and praying, asking God to show us where in the world He would have us go. Our God is a very big God to have brought us together. Sitting there that afternoon, watching the Hot Springs children writing their letters, being right there in the midst of them, I was again in awe of how intimately, how beautifully God has answered our prayers.

The afternoon of letter writing was relaxed and easy with the kids. In fact, it was probably the moment when the boys especially, warmed up to me. As you can see by some of the crazy hamming it up in the pictures.

While every child took great pains to create something special for their sponSORE, I just have to mention three in particular.

Bao (Tawepon) is the baby, daughter of Suradet and Yupa. Two, going on three, she has remarkable concentration. Using leftover paint from one of the crafts I'd brought, she stayed focused and fascinated, making her painting. I have her on video doing this and will make sure we all get to see that. What a sweetie.

Sai (Pakamat) is the youngest girl other than Bao, and also spent the afternoon in a very seriously concentrated manner. Normally, she was not so concentrated, in a typical 9 year old girl kind of way. But the time and work she put into her letter seemed to reflect the depth of her thanks for someone to sponsor her.

Fruk (Yingjareun) is the youngest of the boys. He was so much fun to work with. He'd run over to me, asking how to spell a word, and then run back to spell it. And then two seconds later, he was back asking about another word. He wanted to get this just right.

I didn't get a chance to see all of what the children created. Some came with their envelopes already sealed. But I did get a picture of each one holding the evelope, and I'll print that off and put that in with a little "packet" for each sponsor, hopefully by the end of next week.

It all depends on the jet lag.

If you've experienced it, you know what I mean. It's as if your body doesn't know where you are, here or still where you've been. Resting and taking it easy is the only "cure". I'm not one to put up with sitting still for very long. But I have to confess, my body is whining at me still, and I've been told to listen to it. So, I guess I'd better.

But I find, as I did coming home last February, it's not just my body that's "jet lagged". My heart doesn't know where it is either. I'm keen to get back into a groove and move ahead with all of the enormously exciting and meaningful, happy occupations God has for me here. Highview, my family, my friends, all come with the wonderful complexities of life and ministry, making for a rich abundant life, as promised.

But something of me remains in the humid foothills of the Himalayas in a place called Hot Springs with 15 children and their amazing parents. Part of my heart won't let go of the longing to be with them. What a gift it has been to be with them.

Home

I think God is hilarious that He would have me come home to snow! After sweating it out in the Thai humidity for the past two weeks, it's quite the weather-shock to arrive to temperatures hovering around freezing and enough of the stuff on the ground to look like winter.

But I'm home. My flights were smooth and effortless. Thank you so much for all your prayers. I made every connection in good and time - get this - every single flight I sat beside an empty seat! That's just SO much more comfortable! Felt like a going home gift from God.

There's an aching though, and it's not my backside, (although there's that too).
The good bye at the airport yesterday afternoon was way harder than I thought it would be. I kept it together. Didn't want to upset the kids, Miki especially who was crying already when I left Hot Springs on Sunday. It wasn't until I was on the plane rolling down the tarmac that it hit me, and it was really big.

Our kids, Suradet and Yupa, Thailand itself, all God is doing there and all He's allowing us to be a part of, it's real and it's profound and it's happening for me in deeper places of my soul now, since I've been here. And it's hard, so hard, to say good bye. My heart hurts.
I'll write some more once my head stops spinning. I'm going to take today to sleep some and unpack some and just take it easy. I can't wait to see you all, but I hope I don't monopolize every conversation now for the rest of....my life! There are so many stories! Perhaps we need a signal. Since I am significantly "riced out" to use Dave Driver's term, maybe that's all you need to say. If I'm talking too much about Hot Springs kids or about Thailand or about my experiences in the next few weeks, all you have to say is, "Ruth Anne, I'm just a bit "riced out" right now." I'll get it. I don't think I could look another grain of rice in the eye right now. In fact, I think I will pledge to show my devotion to Christ by fasting from rice from now until then next time I'm in Thailand. That would be just fine.

Again, thank you, thank you thank you for all you've done to help me get there and stay sane while I'm there, supporting me and praying for me, and sending me your comments and e-mails. It all made for a wonderful, amazing, God-filling time.

See you soon.

Ruth Anne

One Last Post From Thailand

Yesterday was computer day. Mike, Debbie and I picked up the computer from the store and drove it out to Hot Springs before lunch. It would take a bit to set it up, so we went out for lunch at a little roadside restaurant nearby, sort of my final treat to Suradet and Yupa before I left. Big news about that lunch is that I actually tried some frog soup. Debbie was kind enough to fish out an entire leg to put in my bowl. I didn't get up the nerve to actually eat it (the curled up toes were just a tad much), but I did take a sip, and I have the photos and witnesses to prove it.

Following lunch we went back to Hot Springs and began the tediously exciting process of plugging everything in. It's amazing how fascinating unpacking boxes of computer equipment is to orphans. They sat and watched as if it was a first class perfomance.

The older kids were at school, so it was actually kind of nice just to be able to focus on the younger ones, especially the girls, who feel completely comfortable with me by now. Yupa was curious about one box, asking in Thai what this was. I showed her the picture, it was the printer scanner, and she started to cry. She didn't know that was coming with the deal. All of this will make her life so much easier in terms of helping the children with their school work, and what the church needs as well. This is a huge deal to them, and they couldn't express their gratitude enough.

"Please tell your members church how much we thank." I promised I would.


There was only one little glitch, unfortunately. The set up was all in English. Word was put to Thai script, and of course there's a Thai keyboard, but the initial Window's disply was still in English. Sadly we had to pack up the cpu to take it back to get that switched over. But it was all taken in stride.

While this was all going on, Miki, arms around my waist, says, in English, "Tomorrow." And then she draws a line down her cheek and makes crying noises. Yes, Miki, tomorrow I'll be crying too.

They're coming to the airport to send me off. Hope I can stand it.

How is it I want to stay and want to go home all at the same time? How can I possibly leave them? I ask it again. What have I done to my heart?

"Lord, just as I entrusted this time to You, right from the get go and all the way through, I now give over any and all of what is to come because I've engaged so deeply here. Whatever it feels like, however it goes down, whatever long term effects linger in my soul, would You take it all and turn it all into something that You can use however You see fit. With the same reckless abandon which I threw open my heart to come here, I now release my psyche and my soul into Your crucible of transformation. Take my life and let it be all Yours. Take this experience, these days and weeks, these moments, all of it, and do whatever You choose, for the kingdom, for Highview, in my heart.

I will never be the same because of this."

Time to come home. Can't wait to see you all. The adventure is only beginning.


Miki (Warichat)

Longings

As a child I didn't deal with disappointment very well. I guess that's pretty normal, but it seems to me that a chronic sense of being "hard done by" followed me into my teen years and adult life. It might have been due to a misguided parental belief that to give a child something they really, really wanted was to spoil them. I'm not sure. But it did lead me to develop an emotional habit of not hoping for things, not longing for things. What was the point? It wasn't going to happen anyways.

Throughout my spiritual journey, God has sought to gently rebuke and re-parent me on this. The rebuke is against the pity party, and the re-parenting is toward understanding my Heavenly Father as lavish and loving and eager to grant me the desires of my heart. Over and over again, He has given me over the top gifts that come in wild and wonderful ways to my soul.

In no small way, this time in Thailand has been one of those gifts. The longing to return, the deep ache to come back and spend time with our Hot Springs kids....that has been fulfilled and filled up more than I was able to think or imagine.

It hit me hardest when I first arrived.

We'd been at the zoo all day [I'll have to send pictures of the zoo later when Suradet can send me his copies. Mine got deleted, but that's another entire story] so we were all pretty hot and tired. I rode home in the truck with the kids and Suradet and Yupa, about 8 of us inside and 7 in the back with all my bags. As is normal whenever I'm driving anywhere in Thailand, my eyes were wide open taking in all the scenes zipping by. There's so much that is so strange. Huts on stilts. Women selling garlands at the intersections. Seven people on a moto. Water buffalo sneaking onto the road.

I was looking for some familiar landmarks to let me know when we were getting close. But when we'd been there before it was night time. So by the time we turned into the driveway, it took me by surprise.

The first sight of the church building was like a grab to the heart. That's it! I've been here! This is what I've been looking at in pictures for 8 months, wishing, praying, asking if I could come back! But we didn't park out front. Instead we lumbered up the steep hill behind the church to stop in front of the "mission centre" where I'd be staying.

And then we got out. And I stood on the red earth and looked out over the Hot Springs "compound" and realized...barely able to breathe....I'm here. This longing....He's granted me a deep, deep desire of my heart.

And then I lost it.

I didn't want to do that. I thought it might scare the kids, crying like that. I was very sure I couldn't explain myself. Quick, what's the Thai for "It's okay, I'm just happy!" But I didn't need to say anything.

It was Tor (Yaowana) who made the first move. She just came up and put her arms around me and hugged me and started making little quick "sh,sh,sh,sh" noises. The other girls followed and very soon I was surrounded by a pack of little sticky wonderful bodies and thin brown arms, telling me with little comforting noises that it was all going to be okay.

I pulled it together a bit, mostly because I so badly needed a kleenex that the beauty of the group hug was soon going to not be quite so beautiful. We unloaded my bags and brought them into the room where I was staying.

Clean floors, my own bathroom, a decent mattress. I took it all in quickly, but a more pressing matter was at hand. The SPONSORS PACKETS!!!!!

Do you know how eager they are for your love from home? Picture 15 sets of brown eyes completely focused on the opening of one large suitcase. Try to feel the electricity of 15 children who have so little, holding back as best they can, in order to be polite, while I hand them out one at a time.

Hear their happy sounds as they open the envelopes, look inside, and show each other the pictures. And....this is unusual for us, I'm afraid....right away, with no coaxing, they are instinctively equalizing the candy component of the packages. Everyone shares everything that was edible in the packages we sent. I don't know how they do it, but they do. It's just what you do when the Sponsors send the packages. The books, the letter, the other gifts, they're yours. But anything there is to eat is common ground.

I am trying to get all this on tape to bring it all back to you, especially the sponsors. The happy noises, the fun of "Christmas morning" in the middle of a very hot day in October.

After the children leave to take their new treasures back to their bunks, it's just Yupa and me.

I so badly want to tell her how glad I am to be here. I so badly want to tell her that I admire what she is doing to mother these children. I so badly want to say about a million things. But I can't. She can't. I try...in English...so she can hear my tone, see my gestures. A hug seems best. And that's when we're both crying. She's saying, in English, "Than Yoooooo, than yooooooo, than yoooooo" over and over again. But I'm saying, No...You have no idea what this is giving ME!"

And when we're sort of done all that hugging and crying and saying thank you badly in each other's language, we get down on the floor, quite literally on our knees, and pray. She prays in Thai, I pray in English. And it does not matter that we can't understand what the other is saying. God hears us both. God is standing over us both.

He is mighty in the midst of us. He is rejoicing over us with singing. He is quieting us with His love. And He is delighted to be lavishing upon us, Yupa and me, the desires of our hearts.

There are many ways that going far away makes God seem so much bigger. Receiving so much from Him, even in just my first hour at Hot Springs, was just another way for my heart to know that in the care of such an enormous God, deepest longings can be met beyond imagining.

Before and After

For me it's getting late, but I just wanted to put something together quickly to try to give you a sense for how Highview's connection with Hot Springs has made a difference.

For those on last year's Team and anyone who's seen the pictures already, you'll remember the sparseness of both the children's bedrooms and the kitchen, as captured by the cameras the night we visited there in February. It was probably what hit home the hardest, to realize that children actually lived in these bare bones rooms.

Being there this week was a golden opportunity to see how things have improved now that Highview is partnering with Suradet and Yupa for the care and well-being of these children. Much of what is "better" is actually intangible. It's the spark in the eyes and the increased laughter and the sense of everyone there being just that much more relaxed. Just the mere fact that a sponsor church had been found immediately lifted a great weight off the shoulders of Suradet and Yupa, and in turn, made for a less stressful emotional environment for the kids.

But the tangibles are there too. I am including just a few pictures to show the difference. At the top is the girls bedroom and next is the boys. You can't believe the difference the floors and bunks have made. There are some next steps still needed, and I'll be talking more about that in the next little bit as we prepare for our upcoming trips in the spring. However, be encouraged. What you are doing is truly making a difference in the lives of 15 amazing children who live in the foothills of the Himilayas in Thailand.


All meals, rain or shine, night or day, are eaten outside in this dining area. This also provides a place for the kids to play games or just hang out around the fire that constantly smolders at the far end. This entire structure includes the new kitchen that was completed early last spring.

As I wind down my last days in Thailand, there is much to process and so much I want to tell you and show you. This tired blog hardly does justice to the enormity of what I've just been allowed to see, feel, hear, smell and touch. And it certainly does nothing to express the depth of what's touched my soul. Thank you all for praying, and for supporting me in going.

I'm on my way home Tuesday at noon, midnight Monday night for most of you. Tomorrow we pick up the computer for Suradet and do just some last minute shopping for other things I'd like to bring home for the Christmas baazar to raise funds for the next projects.

More later.

Dangerous Orphans

It's dark and it's early and it's time to get up. Sunday morning's devotion time is a half hour earlier than every other day, which means we stumble up the steep stairs, some of the younger ones still in pyjamas, to begin the day at 5:30 a.m. It's okay, the rooster has already been helping to get us out of bed since about 4 a.m., a kindness he offers every day.

My first thoughts this day do not centre around the hour, however. This is my last day at Hot Springs and I don't want to deal with that. I lie on my mattress wondering why on earth I would do such a wretched thing to my heart. What sane person would come to spend time with these sensational children, knowing full well the time would have to come to an end and there'd be a goodbye. Why didn't I think about the goodbye?

It's been a holy experience this week. I have seen the face of God in ways I haven't ever experienced before; His gentleness and grace and wreckless abandonment to embrace. Each child is a pricelss gift. Every personality, every skill set, every temperament...each one a gift from God to this planet that I have somehow been granted the honour of being in the presence of 24/7 for the past five days.

More stories will come. More pictures are on the way. I have so much to bring back to all of you, and some very specific reports and pictures and letters and gifts for the sponsors. And I'll get to all that as soon as possible.

For now, let's just say that I'm back in Chiang Mai more wrecked than before I left, but deeply, deeply grateful for the dangerous opportunity to let these children do what they've done to my heart. Nobody told me orphans could be so dangerous.

Ruth Anne