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.