A Kind of Christmas Fast

 

Somewhere in the back of a storage unit, all packed in bins, tidy and safe, are all my Christmas decorations.

When I put them there last January, it was with the expectation that, by September or so, we'd be all settled in nicely into our new home, and come November I'd just have to go down to the crawl space to find them.

Nope.

So I'm doing without this year. Or at least mostly. Ken did find the small tree that used to be in my office space, and the large wreath for the front door (but not the hook to hang it), and a bin marked 'greenery' that might provide a way to make things look festive.

I am sensitive not to intrude into the intentional fuss-free lifestyle of our son with whom we are sharing this Christmas space right now. He's given me permission to do whatever I need to do, and I would like to and probably will do something. But I'm also committed not to spending much if any money on things I know I already have and just need to wait for.

I am discovering things about myself in this space.

Ken and I are doing a lot of costing out of things right now, in prep for the move in date (hoping for January 11). This has taken us into many decked out retail spaces, and I find it similar to being on a diet and visiting a bakery. There's an exaggerated sense of longing due to the absence of the longed for thing. Everything is oh so pretty!

Please understand that I decorate for Christmas, and do it early, because it helps provide the visual space in which the sacredness of the season can best nudge my soul towards the Child. Far from being a distraction to the 'real meaning of Christmas,' I find it an enhancement.

So this year?

Same in its opposite.

There's a prayer I've learned to whisper during times where loved things or loved ones are withheld for any number of reasons.

"Turn all my longings into longings for You."

I say it often in the stores. I say it when I remember our mantle back at our old house. I say it when it's the first Friday night after Ken's birthday and I'm not decorating the tree. I say it when the longings linger into a snowy pre-dawn meditation.

And I find that Christmas meets me there too.

"How silently, how silently,
the wondrous Gift is given.
So God imparts to human hearts
the blessings of His heaven."
(O Little Town of Bethlehem)

Offerings

Missing me some Thai sunrise.
And little singing voices doing morning chores.
Snow today here in SW Ontario, and more to come they say.
'Tis the season.
All good things in their time.
A good night's sleep in a warm bed.
Looking forward to Tim's with my girl later today.
Meaningful work to keep my heart focused.
Outside, a little house with big dreams.
Life is good.

Hebrews 13:15
Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise -- the fruit of lips that openly profess His name.

Aslan's on the Move

One side benefit from being in Thailand just before Ken's birthday is that I can often break through the 'my husband's so hard to buy for' barrier and find a truly unique gift.

This genuine leather portfolio was a steal at the market. Then we made a trip to the Umbrella Store where, for a mere pittance, artisans paint incredible designs on almost anything you hand to them.

When Ken was with me last time, he favoured the image of a lion to be drawn on his computer. So that's what I was looking for. The particular artist who did it for him then wasn't there that day. But I found a guy who was willing to scroll through some pictures on his phone until we found one I liked.

And just like that, in a matter of 20 minutes, he created this vivid image. He was going to charge me 200 THB, which is basically equivalent to $8 CDN. I couldn't do it. I gave him 500, closer to $20. Because, come on!

So, the stately lion, C.S. Lewis' image of Christ, the Lion of Judah, comes home to celebrate with us last night. Maybe we'll have to watch the movie again over the holidays.

So happy birthday to my one and only. I waited to today to post this because I didn't want to spoil the surprise. Although, for my own amusement only, it could have actually been a test of Ken's Facebook feed awareness (hint, very low).

Tuesday, and the week is moving along nicely.

Tonight we can reinstate 'jam night' for our two musical grandkids, something we had to suspend over the time Ken and I were not in the city. Getting back to more regular rhythms and reconnecting relationally. Feels good.

Have a great day folks, whatever it holds for you!!!

Marking This Monday

And so begins my first full week back.  And on this particular Monday, things feel pretty significant.

Today marks a return not just from my most recent trip to Thailand, but from a period of several months living and working from somewhere else besides KW.  Like, since June.  A lot of living, including two trips to Thailand, an appendectomy, and being able to experience fall at the cottage, has happened since then.  Today it feels like I'm really back.  Like a new beginning.

This, while we're still in transition.  Due to the gracious space our son has made for us in the house that sits on the same property as our new build, we are warm and snug and as settled in as we can be while we await the completion of our home just out back.  They are accomplishing a lot each day, and it's so encouraging to watch it happen before our very eyes, as it were.  

With us all tucked in nicely, there's something of a shortage in workspace.  That's why I am ever so grateful that Highview has allowed me to office-crash for a few weeks into the New Year, until my own little office is ready in the new house.  This is the same space I used while doing the interim in 2020, and of course the whole building is like a second home to me.  

And I didn't realize how lovely it would be to sit in such a familiar space until I got here today and set myself up.  There's a way of concentrating that flows that much easier without the distractions of new and unnecessary stimuli.  Even something as simple as 'where's the stapler?' can disrupt my train of thought in these disrupted days.  

I won't be here every day, by any means.  Just sneaking in at times when I can be least disruptive to the work that already happens here each week. 

So, I'm glad to be back - to the city in general, to the way of living and working and connecting that is my life here, and to all that God has been and is laying out for us on this particular stretch of our journey.

Only one month until Christmas, so there's that.  And today is also my wonderful husband's birthday, which is worth way more than a mention at the end of this post, so stay tuned for a little something about that later.

Not sure what's up for you this Monday.  Hope it's full of good things, strong things, new and familiar things, to keep you moving forward.

Messy All Glorious

 

The first few days home are always about unpacking and putting things away. A tidy space helps me with the basics - where's my toothbrush? - when my head is a bit spinny from jet lag. It helps to normalize and reorient and more fully bring me 'home.'

And. Usually when I get back, and Advent is just around the corner, it's calming and warming to begin the journey into the season by bringing out the visual reminders that, for me, enhance the spiritual engagement with the deeper reflections of the season.

This time?

Exciting things are happening right outside the back door. Our not-so-tiny home is coming together in ways that make our vision more and more a reality every day. And it's all a big, fat, glorious mess.

There's no place for my toothbrush there yet. We are staying with our son who has generously and sacrificially made space for us in this rather messy time until we get the key and are all clear to move in.

It's not nearly the squishy arrangement I had imagined, and it didn't take me all that long yesterday to unpack into the spaces he and Ken worked together to provide to make sure I could settle in. This includes a whole drawer in the bathroom, so yes, I know where my toothbrush is.

Ken somehow even found the small Christmas tree that used to adorn my office space, and set it up and plugged it in so as to welcome me into our room upon my return. If you could see our storage unit, you'd know that that's a little Christmas miracle all on its own.

And also, we're not there yet.

So I'm grateful for a few days with little to no expectations.
I'm still basking in all the goodness of this last visit.

And I'm hopeful in the midst of the mess.
Which is probably a more accurate Christmas 'feel' than anything else still hiding away in storage.

Thank you again to all who prayed for us, and supported us in any way for this most recent time of connection and love with our Thai family. Oh the stories that will follow!

Suspension

Monday.

That means only two more full days before we return to Canada. That means packing, wrapping up our Bible lessons, making sure we've assessed our English learning, cleaning out the supplies bins, collecting everything the children have made for their Sponsors, preparing the Christmas package that will be opened later, and saying the appropriate goodbyes.

I'm not really fond of this space. I very much want to be fully present here in these last moments. And yet there's lots to pull my attention towards the travel, and whatever plans I can put down in pencil for the first few days back. So back and forth I go, my brain, my heart.

This year it's even worse. Ken and I are still in the midst of our housing transition. We've been welcomed into our son's home (on the same property) and been given ample space. I am so very grateful for all the ways David is stepping up and being amazing and supportive and wonderful. AND. We are still not done this transitional living thing we're doing. And it only adds to that sense of being stretch between things.

Like a bridge. And in these moments that's what I feel the Spirit is reminding me of. Bridges are suspended. And they take you places. From here to there.

So I sit for a moment in this suspended space.

Breathing in.

Breathing out.

Taking the next steps over the gap.

Trusting.

Morning Moments

I'm finding it busy enough this visit. Not unusually so particularly, but still, to keep things moving with our English learning and evening lessons, it's easy to default to task. Easy to miss the moments happening beyond the guest house.

Like morning chores. If you can call it that. The beauty of the sunrise and the singing of the voices make it seem more like gentle fun than grudging task. Even with this all happening before breakfast (which is the smartest time to do it in a tropical climate by the way), there's laughter and song and being very happy to pose for a picture.

I'm glad I walked down today.

From home today I received some initial pictures of the factory-build component of our new home. Very encouraging! And it feels like a grace upon grace to have that happening without me while I'm here, all concentrated on the happy tasks and morning moments, and all the moments I'm given in this place.

Saturday Morning Family Outing for the Win

 

Jonah

My Mom had a saying, often uttered with a frustrated sigh.
"Can't win for losin'."

I get it. Often as not it can feel that way, I suppose. Maybe especially when there are big events that feel like big losses. Or multiple little thwartings that all add up.

But not today.
Not today.

Today we went swimming. A small and ginormous 'bai teo' where we all pile in the back of the truck and head out five minutes down the road to where a shallow pool provides fathoms of play.

Lukmee

Jonah gives the victory sign as he springs up from the water.
"I did it!" Funny how, every where you go, kids keep saying, "Watch this!" as if your eyes aren't glued on them the entire time.
Funny how, everywhere you go, no one says no to ice cream.

And this is deeply good and lovely to watch for any child's play. But these children?
These children....I know their stories.
They shouldn't be all frolicking and carefree on a Saturday morning.

And it makes it all the more of a win somehow.

We bought 29 ice creams.
Twenty children, 9 adults.
I told the booth attendant,
Rao mee kropkua yai!
(We have a big family.)
Yai, yai!, (big, big) she agreed, wide eyed.

Can't lose for winning, Mom.
Not when the wins are like this.

Together-Spunk

 

Not so much me at this age. Maybe that's why I love it so much when our girls demonstrate a sweet but edgy confidence. It can mean a world of difference in how one navigates the world.

And the world needs wise navigation. It did then. It does now. Life can be so tricky sometimes, so to learn early that you were created for a purpose, that you have a light inside of you that only you can shine, that there is darkness to vanquish, and you've been given everything you need to make a difference, makes all the difference.

But only if you're not trying to do any of that on your own.  I’m so not into that.  It’s not how it works.  Some lone-wolf idea, some distortion of individuation that requires an unrealistic and unhealthy independence. 

We need each other, Lukmee and I.  We both need this family, and the bigger Family we to whom we both belong.  We need our Father infusing us with spunk.  All of it.  Everything that makes us uniquely part of the whole big story of God.

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine!

Mai Bpen Rai, Ka

There's a space here this morning for my soul to rest, 

even as restless events unfold half a planet away.

Mai bpen rai, ka.  Never mind.  It's all good.

Goodness in the midst of the not good.

  

Little Da gives the signal that it's all okay.

If you knew her story it would break your heart.  

Life has been so not okay. 

And yet here she is,

a box of Smarties in her other hand.

That's why, 

when I captured this sweet gesture from this sweet child,

I believed I was being reminded.   

The sun rises and there is still good work to do.

Let us not be distracted.

Or afraid.

God has not given us a spirit of fear;

but of power,

and of love,

and of a sound mind.

2 Timothy 1:7

 

Then Sings My Settled Soul

 

As we've moved into the first full week of our stay here, I am noticing something lovely, but recently elusive happening for me. A settled soul.

In the weeks leading up to getting on the plane, I've struggled to maintain focus and concentration. So many lists in so many different orbits of my life, personal, family, ministry. We've been un-nested now since July 18. Not really, because the cottage was and is a true place of home for me. But the temporary nature of our city dwelling, and the transient nature of where we've laid our heads over the past few months, have taken their toll. So much of the time there's this feeling of being pulled in the proverbial thousand directions.

But yesterday I noticed it. A settled mind and spirit. One focus, one heart, one beauty, right here, right now.

Physically as well. In a rather unusual way, I have slept beautifully, right though the night, every night we've been here so far. The summer's surgery recovery is a dim and distant memory now, especially compared to what I was still dealing with when I was here last.

I mention all this mostly and simply so I can mark it, and be fully grateful as I am fully present in this space. Fully present in the midst of children's voices raised in praise in the early sleepy moments of dawn. Fully present in the sunrise that follows, and in the sound of crickets and wild birds and geckos, all of which have become such familiar songs to my being. Fully present in the presence of community, slow and gentle, loving and being loved, knowing and being known.

Prajao ying yai.
How great Thou art.

To anyone needing some settling right now, I wish I could e-transfer some of this home to you. Maybe I can. We'll call it prayer.

And Then A Peacock (or Three)

One happy component of every single trip is the thing that's never happened before.  At least, most of the time it's a happy thing.  It was yesterday.

We're still in our first three days of adjustment, getting turned around on sleep and appetite and general sense of what day it is.  Saturday was remarkably productive, all that being said.  We were able to spend time with the kids beading and painting.  And in a very casual way, playing 'games' with English letters, Cheryl was able to do an assessment on almost all the children.  Very helpful as we head into Monday's first reading time.

While all that is going on, I look up from the dining area towards the guest house.  There are three large peacocks casually strolling across the property, up the hill, and checking out the porch of Suradet and Yupa's house.  Maybe they smelled our lunch being prepared.

No one was particularly phased.  Even the dogs didn't respond much more than to lift a head and make sure the birds were familiar, which apparently they were.  I pointed it out to Suradet who just laughed and said, "Ahjahn Ruth...we have everything!"

Yes, but this was my first visit from peacocks, I'll just say.  

It was a happy little new thing to add to the happy little things we were already doing with the kids.

I am writing from that relaxed not-preaching space between 5:30 morning worship followed by breakfast at 7:00, follow by worship that begins some time around 10 a.m.  Actually none of the times above are in any way precise.  That's just the way we roll.  

This morning, after breakfast, we were given the task of preparing for Communion, and what an honour it was.  And what an honour it will be to receive Communion together with our brothers and sisters here.

Settling in to our first days very well.

More on Sunday's service will most likely follow :).

Blessings all....

 

The Dawning of a Saturday

 

"Early in the morning,

my song shall rise to Thee."

(Hymn: Holy, Holy, Holy)

I heard the rooster sing them first, those praises.

Grateful for a very solid night's sleep, unusual for second day of jet lag.
Grateful for the cooler air of the morning.
Grateful for the anticipation of sleepy morning meditations with our children, in just a few moments.
Grateful for Team members adjusting well and engaging deeply even in these first few days.

Still some unpacking and sorting to do.
Preparing to tell the Christmas story tonight in our lesson series.
Easing into this beautifully.