Saturday Night

*Not an easy read....*

It's easy to feel discouraged when the girl who you've spent the last several months befriending and loving is pole dancing--leaving nothing to the imagination of the man she is swaying over. Literally, there was nothing that needed to be imagined. He didn't ask for the show, she gave it freely. No, she'll tell you, she doesn't like her job; but when you're out with her in the mall and a handsome stranger walks by, her words are blunt: "I want to f--- him."

Some people might say I'm wasting my time with her.

And honestly, in those moments of trying not to watch her display her entire body in an exotic dance in the bar, there is the temptation to feel like I have wasted my time. "Maybe these past 8 months really have been for nothing". The quiet lies are easy to believe.

But my time hasn't been wasted. I know it. I have not spent 8 months loving her with my own human messy love--I've been loving her with the endless, limitless, measureless love of the Almighty God, and that love changes lives. So whether I get to see her respond to that love or not, I know that it doesn't just fall into oblivion. I believe God's love doesn't return void.

I'm still praying that she'll find the True Love that she is longing for.

the home dilemma

Why must home exist in two places?

across cultures

across languages

across oceans

Why must I leave home

to go home?

across borders

across time zones

across understandings

Why must I leave loved ones

to find loved ones?

Why must home exist on

two sides of one planet?

oh that this world could be brought into that world

or that world brought into this one

If only home and home could coincide.

Thoughts on the Remaining Five

I have five weeks remaining to drive the exhaust-drenched streets of Chiang Mai, and I'm worn out by warring emotions of joy and sorrow at the prospect of leaving Thailand. My dreams at night are starting to focus on my arrival home. My thoughts during the day are also often of the future and what awaits me in the next season of life. At the same time the thought of leaving behind dear friends here is a very painful one; I hate goodbyes. I don't want to "check out" because there is yet work to be done, life to be lived, and love to be extended. My time here is not over yet. But I also feel like I've done a lot of things "wrong", or at least could have done them better, and I just would rather start all over than try to repair what's been broken. I want a clean slate, and sometimes, life in America looks like a clean slate to me.

 I so often don't feel "cut out" for missionary life for the rest of my days, but God uses the weak to shame the strong, and I am most definitely a weak vessel. Simple obedience and courageous willingness are all that the Lord needs from me -- not wisdom or talent or a more intriguing personality. He knew exactly who I was when He called me, with all my quirks and weaknesses. He is not surprised or disappointed with who I've "turned out to be". I am enough in Him.