I think the duct-taped Bible may have been the catalyst.
A few years ago already, the Thai-English Bible I had purchased some years before that, is getting ratty. The spine especially. And the cover is about to fall off.
To my mind, this problem is easily solved. In typical Western style, I ask Yupa if we might be able to visit the Bible Store in Chiang Mai one day so I could buy myself a new one. I show her the ratty Bible to be sure I'm communicating it properly, my Thai being limited.
She looks genuinely puzzled. I assume I haven't said it properly. But when I repeat myself, and explain again, I realize that she understands my Thai but not my intentions.
Buy a new one? Whatever for? Then she leaves for a moment, and returns with the duct tape. She's really good at this. In a matter of moments I have a tidy new Thai-English Bible that will carry the day for many more years to come.
No need to spend that money,
Yet, it was my first default.
White privilege will do that to you.
And actually, I think the Bible is due for another taping.
Since that catalytic moment, I have been increasingly conscious of my rather complex relationship with money. I never thought of myself as being extravagant or wasteful. I came from a rather stringent home, with a tiny bit of Scottish blood in us. But every time I come back from Thailand it confronts me. How much extra I have to, on a whim, buy a new sweater, not because I actually need it, but just because, oh I don't know, it's on sale, or I have a pashmina that would match. And don't get me started on how many pashmina's I own!
Am I frugal? Am I a wild spender? I guess it depends on with whom I let myself be compared.
Then there's that whole message of reciprocity I've been preaching this whole time. That ever-increasing understanding that cross-cultural partnerships aren't true partnerships when things get imbalanced. When there's a power differential or any kind. And let's face it, money is power, no matter how hard we try to not let it be. So how do I partner with those who materially have way less than me?
And then, each year when we do the budget, and we have to tell Suradet and Yupa and our other Staff that we can only bump up their minimum wage salary by just a tiny percent. Yes. For all that beautiful heroic work, they are paid minimum wage. And then I turn around and get my nails done, or book a massage, or go for a swim at the gym where I have a lovely little membership. And there's two of us living here where, if we picked up this house and plopped it down in Thailand, we could house 20 at-risk and orphan kids easily. Easily.
And it's over and over again in the duct-taped Scripture I claim to love and live by.
"Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and provide the poor wanderer with shelter --
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?"
Isaiah 58:7
"However, there need be no poor people among you,
for in the land the LORD your God is giving you
to posses as your inheritance,
he will richly bless you."
Deuteronomy 15:4
"Freely you have received.
Freely give."
Matthew 10:8
"Whom have I in heaven but You,
and earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever."
Psalm 73:25-27
And oh so much more.
So.
We're moving.
From our 1,397 plus square foot side split in Waterloo, to a 630 square foot, newly-built granny flat that will tuck in nicely behind our son's house in Kitchener. Shared driveway. Shared yard care. No condo fees. A little porch out front for visiting. Everything inside designed by us to maximize the space. No stairs. Lower taxes. Less utilities.
Not a tiny home, by the way. Folks who are truly dedicated to minimalistic living would laugh at us for calling our home tiny.
Just. Simpler. Smaller. Truer.
Yes, there are other factors in play in this decision. One is the desire to take initiative now to set ourselves up for the latter decades of our life, freeing our children from some of the decision making and grunt work often associated with relocating elderly parents. We were given the wonderful honour of clearing out both sets of parents' homes. It was exhausting and disruptive. We're not going to do that to our kids.
But a big part of it is that this just seems for us a more authentic way of living out the convictions God has placed on our heart. It's not everyone's journey. There is no desire to convince anyone else that this is the right thing for them. None.
It's just right for us.
That it took no convincing and by now we can't tell who owns this idea more,
is just another way we know.
It's our journey.
For us.
Okay, That's enough for now.
I'm going to go see if I can find some more duct tape.
(Diagrams by Royal Homes.)
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