Is that You, Lord?

Got a lot on the go this coming week, but that's okay. The weekend just past was totally chill. The weekend ahead is full of possibilities.

I'll be sharing in a collective enrichment opportunity with the women of Kingsfield Zurich Mennonite Church at their Ladies' Retreat Friday and Saturday, talking about how we hear God's voice in our everyday lives. And I don't say that flippantly. It's an often misunderstood experience prone to extremes. But of course that's the substance of the sessions.

Looking forward to spending time with Poppy Gascho Barrett Price (my host) and also Norma Metzger (my traveling companion). And of course the women who have set aside this time to pursue God more robustly....just the kind of folks I love to learn from.

Happy Monday everyone.

When You Wake Up So Very Early on a Sunday Morning

 

In repentance and rest is your salvation,

in quietness and trust is your strength,

but you would have none of it.

Isaiah 30:15

We're getting such a small dose of things here in our region.  The bigger storm is north and east of us, and from the reports and pictures, it's much more of a thing for them.  Lots of people without power this morning.

I, on the other hand, am in the enviable position of waking up in a warm, lit house, taking pretty pictures off my front porch, and anticipating a Sunday morning service that is still on.  The nature of my weekend is unusually low key, in that I have absolutely no responsibilities, no meetings, nothing I need to 'show up' for, other than being present within my community to worship together.  

Because I'm an early riser normally, and because I slept so well last night (yay for jet lag's departure), I am up and dressed and ready to roll by 6 a.m.  Our fairly recent move to having only one vehicle means I am not free to head over to the church whenever I like.  Today, by mutual agreement, we aren't leaving until much later than I'm used to.  And that's okay.

It's been a bit of a week.  These days, there's always 'the news.'  And on Friday there were those anxious moments between hearing 'the news' about the earthquake in Thailand, and hearing from beloveds there that they are okay.  Then there was the 'keep an eye on it' set back following a root canal procedure on Monday. Some pressing deadlines thrown in.  And all tolled, it was enough to make me more cautious about how I'm expending my energies, and grateful I had the foresight to clear off the calendar to make space for this first full week back. 

Yesterday was truly a treat; the first Saturday in I don't know how long where neither Ken nor I had anything booked except for taking care of the 'domestics' (so much easier and quicker in our new little house) and continuing with some smaller items on the house list (eg. finally looked after all those loose wires in the corner!).  

This morning has a similar feel.  And this afternoon, after church, we can just come home and hunker down.  Perhaps a game of Scrabble?  

I'm lingering in it.  Unhurried.  Listening.  Paying attention in the lull of it.  Enjoying it.  And I realize, in these moments, I think, maybe, I'm finally starting to grow in this.

I am mindful of a text I have posted often before, so I stop and insert it at the beginning here, underneath the picture.  

It's a go to.  A centering text.  Even with, especially with the rebuke at the end.  And I think, maybe, I'm learning.  At least I hope so.  In the past these pockets of nothing-time made me antsy.  I would be having none of it.  Especially on a Sunday morning, but here I'll give myself slack because that's decades of conditioning I'm having to unlearn.  

Yet this morning I'm finding a mindfulness, an attentiveness in the space.  Another way to prepare for worship.  

Good gifts, these unhurried spaces, when you wake up so very early on a Sunday morning.

That Nasty Foot Washing Business

 

Photo by Dave Driver

"When he had finished washing their feet,

He put on His regular clothes and returned to His place.

'Do you understand what I have done for you?' He asked them?

John 13:12

One way of reading the Bible is to simply stop when something catches your attention.  This morning, as I picked up the passion week narrative in John 13, this is where I landed.  Jesus asks what seems to be an impossible question.  Worse.  As I read, I hear Him ask it of me.  Worse than that.  I'm pretty sure He's asking because of something that's muttering about in my soul right now.

I know the story well.  Jesus catches them all off guard by dressing as a servant and then performing the lowliest of tasks in that culture.  Feet got dirty in ways ours don't get.  I catch a glimpse of this when visiting places in Thailand where animals and people walk around on the same ground.  Even just the dust combined with the open sandals makes for a distasteful mess, let alone whatever else might get inadvertently stepped in.  In that room with Jesus that evening, it should have been the lowest ranking slave that got the job of washing feet.

And that's what Jesus became for them, in that moment.  

Almighty God, washing remnants of animal dung off the dusty feet of His friends.  

"Do you understand what I have done for you?"

Clearly I don't.  Otherwise I would not get so slighted when I feel I have been disrespected.  I would not narrow my eyes and pull myself back ever so slightly when it's clear that my contributions are being dismissed.  I would not be tempted to withhold good graces when good graces have been withheld from me.  

If I truly understood what Jesus has done for me in stooping to this level, I would be more quick to take on the towel myself.  Happily.

It's been said that you only know for certain if you have a servant's heart by how you respond when someone treats you like one.

How grateful I am for His example.  And the example of His servants who have understood, and have offered me their servant's heart so stunningly.  May I stay faithful to the Spirit's process within me, and be willing to be formed into His likeness, a little more every day.  Yes, Lord.. I do want this.  And thank You for pushing pause on the mutterings of my heart.

These are the meditations of someone imperfectly limping towards Lent.  

Late to Lent

There's something about traveling across time zones that messes with that whole 'what day is it?' fog. For me, by now, it seems crazy that it's already been a whole week since my return. Yet here we are.

Good thing I had cleared my calendar, more or less, because it's been full enough, what with the general unpacking and trip follow up, an out of town Regional Meeting with Anchor, distributing Sponsors' thanks yous, checking in with grandkids, a Steve Bell concert Sunday evening, root canal on Monday, and a little flare up revisit to the specialist yesterday. (Nothing a course of antibiotics and salt water rinses won't take care of.)

I confess that in my eagerness to step back into regular routines, and the anticipation of some exciting speaking engagements in the next few weeks, I have almost lost sight of the Lenten season we are currently observing in that broader sense of the church calendar.

A small wooden cross, a gift from Yupa as I was leaving, helps reorient me. I seek some inspiration and insight from the prophet.

"...the punishment that brought us peace was on Him."
Isaiah 53:5

In a world where peace seems so illusive, I feel the need to just leave these words be.

Except to say that they add to the growing weight of gratitude piling up inside of me

this first week back.

Positive Pacing

Because I've been asked for one, I conscripted Ken this afternoon to help me get a head shot.  I took a risk taking the pictures today.  Afterall, I'm still only three days post-long-haul-flight, and I was afraid it would show.

But actually, with the natural lighting, I ended up with this, and...well...I think Ken did a pretty good job considering what he had to work with.   It's saying something if he could actually capture something I think is fairly decent, since I'm probably one of the least photogenic people I know.

And...well...there's the jet lag.

Up until now, I've been saying that it doesn't matter how often I do the trip, the jet lag is the same.  As if I had hoped that if after putting my body through the 12 hour time warp often enough over these past sixteen years it would sort of say, "Oh this again.  Okay, got this."  But it didn't seem to be working that way.

Except these last two trips I've actually found myself fairly quick to readjust.  Still just a skitch woozy at certain points in the day, and I'm going to hold to my personal rule of no driving after 12 noon for the first week.  But overall, I'm sleeping well, have close to normal times of feeling hungry, and have been able to stay awake fairly cheerfully until 9 p.m.    

Not sure why, really.  Maybe it's being more conscientious about my hydration before, during, and after the plane ride.  Maybe my expectations are just more realistic by now.  Maybe I'm more used to what it feels like and therefore better able to take it in stride, work with it instead of fight against it.  Most likely, it's because the demands of my ministry life here in Canada are vastly different than they were before, and I can give myself a bit more space to readjust instead of having to hit the ground running.  For instance, I arrived back on Wednesday and don't have to preach this Sunday.  

Whatever the reason, I'm grateful.  Especially as I face another annoying disruption next week; my very first root canal.  Yay.  [I likely won't be taking any pictures of any of that.]

There's lots of good and joyful work to keep me occupied right now, no question.  Following up on some of the planning and logistics from our good conversations when I was at Hot Springs.  Connecting with our beloved Sponsors and Supporters.  Budget and other administrative logistics.  Preparing for two significant speaking assignments in the next few weeks.  All of it energizes me as I map it all out these first days back.  

But I'm finding my approach, my spirit to be steady, relaxed, non-anxious.  My time away was so very restorative on so many levels, and I'm just as happy to bring that into these next months of life and ministry.  Happy to skip some of the jet lag.  Eager to step into Spring.

So here's to a good return, to pacing it out, to mini photo shoots that end up okay, and to a long quiet Saturday afternoon to just be home.
 

Lovely Last Day

It's always a bonus when the last few days can be a bit more on the chill side.  It just puts me in the best space mentally and physically to be able to say the hard goodbye and then make the long journey home.

It's been like that mostly all weekend, and spilling into today.  Most of the children have gone back to their families for summer break right now.  A few are lingering because they are part of a tag on event at the high school, and a few just haven't had their folks come for them quite yet.  It makes for a smaller group with a school's-done-and-it's-getting-hotter-each-day kind of vibe.  

Because I have been able to do the major part of packing already, even with an initial weighing of my suitcase, today was open for some things I had really hoped to be able to do before I left.  Not urgent or important, but just icing on the cake sorts of things.

We started with a last mini meeting, more of a conversation really, tying up a few items from our Management Committee Meeting earlier, and making sure we all understood some next steps in moving forward with some important tasks.  

After that we were over at Hot Springs park where we all had a Thai massage.  If this sounds luxurious, you might consider how inexpensive this is, and how helpful it is to get limbered up and stretched out before sitting on an airplane for 5 hours then 14 hours.  Honest, it makes a difference, and - like I said, icing on the cake - I am grateful we were able to do this.  

But the real treat was getting a hair cut.

Like everyone, I'm trying to be frugal in these days of economic uncertainty.  So when I can get a good hair cut here for about $10, and I go quite short and a bit more of a blunt edge bob so it will last me a long while once I get home, that just makes sense.

I've been coming to the same salon for about three years now, a tiny shop out of the way that you'd never in a million years expect to be off the dirt road in this little village, let alone find it even if you knew about it.  I love it because I get a very good cut (right Karen Bowman?), and I can support an independent Thai businesswoman at the same time.

We all took a turn.  And then I asked for a picture, so here we are in all our new hair glory.  

I highly doubt this will be my last post before leaving.  I still have all tomorrow morning.  My flight doesn't leave until 3:20 p.m. and we will head out to the airport immediately following lunch.  I'm still downloading and sorting pictures, so who knows what might show up on my feed, Monday night Canadian time?

For now, I'm just grateful for an easy, fun, massage and hair cut day to round out what has unquestionably been a fabulous visit all around.  

Also, I'm curious about my 9 hour layover in Seoul.  Always an adventure.

 

About the Monkeys

I'm trying to remember where and why I've grown up believing monkeys are rather tame and sweet and entertaining.  Early visits to the circus, perhaps?  TV shows that featured a mischievous but harmless chimpanzee?  Curious George?  Not sure.  But it's okay, because I'm cured of that notion now.

Sure, the little ones are adorable.  And there's something fascinating about how human-like much of the monkey movements can be, especially with the hands.  But there's something that immediately puts you on the wary side of things when a feature of the attraction is that they lend you long sticks.  Just in case.  

Despite my first anxious anticipation, however, we didn't really come across too many monkeys right away.  This is a Buddhist shrine against a sheer cliff that drops down from a rather dense part of the jungle.  

There was a cave as well, but it was closed.  Many in the region no longer operate as a tourist spot since twelve Thai boys were trapped in one, not far from here, in 2018, as you might remember.  I was fine with that, but it did seem then that the monkeys were basically all that was left to see.  If we could see them.

We strolled over to a pool where some large and colourful fish helped decorate the place a bit.  But there were maybe two monkeys over at that spot.

Never mind.  Just a short walk over closer to the cliff and we found them.  Hundreds of them!  They're the same colour as the rock face and very well camouflaged.  Until the food shows up.  That's when they just all start coming down off the crevasses and trees and you realize how many of them have been watching you all this time.

Here's where the sticks come in handy.  And here's where my nonchalant stroll on the Skyway yesterday was replaced by me being a scardy-monkey today.  Bell, Suradet and Yupa were all quite fine with going right up to the woman with the food and paying the 10 baht for a pail.  I'm like, no thanks.  I don't see this as ending well.

You know how these things work.  What starts out as a sweet gesture towards semi-wild animals at an attraction, ends up being a little more than you anticipated.  I have a deer-at-Marineland story too!  And like the deer, the monkeys came running.  And not only that, they were quite territorial, and, sorry to say, hope I don't offend anyone, greedy and nasty!

Okay, so the video doesn't really capture the full extent of the drama.  It wasn't until we were done with the feeding that the attendant told us that there are about four different groups of monkeys with about 100 members each and all with a dominant male leader.  It was the snarling and growling and chasing and baring of teeth that bothered me a little.  I think I was walking away fast, rather than trying to capture that on video.  Honest.  You'll just have to believe me.

But maybe it won't be too hard.  Because, doesn't history kind of tell the same story for the more "superior" primates?  If I'm honest, it was more than just the hand movements that made this seem so human like.  Made me want to be extra careful of my own tendencies to get nasty, especially now, when global affairs have the potential of pitting us all against each other.  

It was all fine in the end.  We came out unscathed.  No one got bit, and no one had their purse stolen (another thing they warn you about when you go in).  And I'm glad we went.  Made a memory.  

And perhaps a cautious reminder to my own soul about keeping things real, and keeping things kind.