Strange Unfoldings in These Last Days

The last few days have an odd hue to them. 

Tomorrow 200 youth and young adults from the Korean Methodist Church will descend upon Hot Springs for a two day retreat/conference.  This we knew.  In fact, two days before leaving Canada I had been asked via email to speak at this conference.  One hour on the topic "New Hope, New Vision".  So, we knew our time here would overlap this rather significant event.

All week preparations have been underway.  The heat's been on to finish the new building that will provide the meeting space.  Long bamboo poles, at least 20 feet in length, have been cut and hauled down from the mountain to be made into picnic tables, Thai style.  Today the food started to arrive, in huge bags, alongside monster rice cookers and pots big enough to 30 pounds of potatoes each, at least.  Suradet has made the trip into Chiang Mai for supplies several times a day.  Yupa is walking around with long sheets of paper, talking in excited tones, laying out the food preparation strategy.  All the kids have pitched in to help in one way or another.

It all makes for a very different feel to the place.  Instead of being the center of attention in a laid back and easy rural Thai environment, we're only four out of at least 20 'extras' in the building hustle of excitement of the 'show' that opens tomorrow.

We've offered to help, of course, and have been turned down, of course.  The best way for us to contribute right now is to mostly stay out of the way during the day, lead and participate in morning and evening worship with the kids, and if the kids aren't needed for the work, spend happy time creating bracelets on the rainbow loom or with the many beads and coloured threads we've brought along.  This we can do. 

Yupa has been able to take us to the markets these past few evenings.  Actually, tonight I let the Team go without me, feeling somewhat 'marketed-out', and hoping for some unplanned, one-on-ones with the kids.  You can catch them between things in the latter part of the day, just after supper and before worship.  Little moments that become big memories.

I wasn't disappointed.  Sat for a few moments of snacking silence with Da, Tonkhao and Cheunlong under the dining shelter.  Just that lovely space of conversation-less 'being' between people who are fondly comfortable with one another.

Had a fascinating conversation with one of the seminary students, a young lady named Ging, from a mountain village who's uncle has sponsored her education so she can fulfill God's calling on her life to be a pastor. (Loved this, more on this later.)  Enjoyed another great conversation with my translator Boy who is fast becoming a good friend.

And oh, I got pooped on.  Right down the back of my neck.  Not sure what creature was so RUDE, but it was clearly hiding up in the beams of the dining shelter roof.  And, well let's just say - TMI alert - it was a LOT!!!  That was one well-fed gecko or whatever.  Anyways, maintaining Thai manners and poise in that situation was a bit of a challenge.  Especially when I don't know the Thai word for 'poop', or even 'yuck' for that matter.  I was glad that I had my handy stock of tissue with me, and for the nearby sink with soap and water.  Always new situations to deal with in Thailand.

My favourite part of this oddly-hued day, however, was the 'skeleton crew' evening worship.  Yupa was in town with the rest of the Team.  Suradet was going over conference plans with the Koreans.   It was left to Boy and I to lead the smaller group of us.  We sat on the floor tonight, and instead of standing up by the table where I usually do, I joined them down on the floor, telling them we'd see how long this farang could stay there.

We focused on the last verse of Psalm 73 which says, "I will tell of all His deeds."  Because we were a more intimate group, I asked if every one of us would go around the circle and just say one thing we were thankful for.  It's a feature of Thai teaching for learners to listen more than speak.  Interaction and response is not encouraged as a general rule.  In the past I've struggled against this, asking a question, only to be met with averted eyes, and shy, quiet smiles, but no brave attempts.  Tonight was different. 

Maybe it was because we were on the floor, or it was a smaller group, or that Ahjan Ruth told them about getting pooped on earlier.  But something seemed to open the door, and every child easily and freely said thanks to God for something.

Two of them were notable.  Kratae, in all seriousness, thanked God that she could clean the toilets.  She's 10.  Not kidding.  There is no sense of entitlement here with this kids.  None.

And Somchai, 18 and just graduated from high school, thanked God that he was alive 'up to this day'. 
Yes, he said that.  That's his reality.

These are the colours of this time now, closing in on the wretched goodbyes of Thursday which I'm not thinking about but clearly am since I've mentioned it.  These are the hues of these last days, strange and wonderful and full of God's gentle sucker punches of grace and truth and vivid, nuanced Presence.