More than the trimmings

I grew up in India, thinking Christmas was about making cards decorated with snowy scenes I had never experienced. I'd seen Santa do his rounds, admired Christmas trees helping to sell things in shop windows. In Thailand Christmas is just another working day. But the trimmings have trickled down anyway and some even decorate their windows with snow spray in the 35 degree heat of Thai winter!

Teaching a music lesson here in the UK, I discovered the children's best efforts to focus their song-writing on the 'real meaning of Christmas' stretched to spending time with family. A teacher said to me "I hate Christmas, really. It's such an effort."  Even a simple grocery shop can turn into an emotionally charged event where 'Christmas' seems to overwhelm your senses with music and food and drink and gifts, and longing to enjoy it all with family.

It's amazing how far Christmas has come from Jesus.

He traded the perfection of heaven for a grotty little stable to say we matter.

He covered His glory in flesh to tell us He understands.

The all-powerful became vulnerable, so we would know he cares.

He became one of us, so we could be one with Him.

He loved the unlovely, He gave love a name

He called the unworthy so we'd know we could never earn Him

The perfect one gave Himself for the imperfect, so we could be like Him.

Christmas means hope

For life to be made new

God dwelling with us.

Choosing the flowers

Sitting with a good old friend yesterday, clutching my mug of tea, I caught myself moaning. First it was the usual victim, British weather. But then I managed to find a negative side to nearly every situation until it hit me between the eyes that I was choosing this, and I hated it. I wondered why it came so naturally to me, why I couldn't 'just be grateful'.

In my house church in Ubon, we would always start with a time of worship, and then the question, "What are you grateful to God for, or how have you seen God at work this week?" A dozen people sat around the room would then take it in turns to share how they'd seen God's goodness to them. They would range from "I was really craving some deep fried pork this week and a friend brought some round... God even cares about my little desires, how much more will He satisfy the big ones"; to "I had severe asthma attacks which would leave me fearing for my life, and now I don't have them anymore, because He healed me". Out of poverty, they were boasting of God's generosity. In places of pain and desperation, their faces bore the glory of God as they acknowledged His goodness in the small things, answers to prayers they hadn't even got round to praying.

I don't believe gratitude came naturally to them, moaning and complaining is always the default setting. No, it didn't come easy; gratitude was a cultivated habit. Each week we would run out of time. Each week I would sit there mesmerised at God's goodness. Each person's story was a glimpse of His tender care. The more they learned to choose gratitude, the easier the choice got.

I wonder if we would think of these things if we were never asked the question. I have to admit I don't. I miss so many blessings, barely acknowledging the giver for the gift as I rush through life looking for the next thing. If His gifts were flowers, my life would be filled with petals of every colour. But the sad reality is I would miss most of them because I wasn't taking the time to look.  He showers my life with abundance - grace upon grace - so many gifts, none of them earned or deserved. But I am so intensely focused on the next question I want an answer for, the next desperate need I want Him to meet, or worse - doing mental gymnastics around a perceived problem rather than bringing it to the One who can help me really see... that I walk straight past the flowers.

Let me ask the question again now, and let us both take some time to think, let's ask the Holy Spirit to help us see, "How have I seen God at work in my life this week?"

I see His handiwork in a friendship that he orchestrated, that has become an iron-sharpening-iron relationship. I'm thankful for how He has placed me regularly in a school devoid of Christian influence, so I can be intentional in praying for and blessing the staff and students. Grateful for the fiery leaves of autumn. Grateful for people to love. Suddenly I realise that much of what I complain about could be turned to gratitude if I just look at the other side of the coin.

Lord, help me develop the habit of choosing gratitude. I want to choose to see the flowers you scatter through my days. I want to hear your song over me. I don't want to miss a thing. Lord, give me eyes to see what you see, and a mind accustomed to choosing gratitude. Amen.

I once was found

... but now I'm lost

Sandy was about 3 months old when I first saw her. Born to a Thai street dog, she'd done well to get that far. Her mum had made herself at home in someone's field, a kind someone, who put leftovers out the back for the homeless puppies. I decided she was mine and I took her home, not realising she was covered in fleas and ticks. None of that mattered. I learned fast, showered her with TLC and pretty soon she was looking healthy and strong, gorgeous. "What breed is your dog?", they'd ask me. "Bitza," I'd laugh, "Bits of everything". 

I never thought I'd have to leave her so soon. She was a friend to me, that year of alone-ness. She was my treasure. I rocked her in my arms when I cried, and took selfies with her when I laughed. She'd cuddle up to me in my garden hammock. Sit at the doorstep of my kitchen while I fried bacon, keeping her boundaries. Barked away strangers I didn't like, lingering outside my house looking in - she knew which ones. Anyone would think she was ferocious. Fiercely protective, Sandy. 

This treasure I found in the rubble is now lost. "She ran away", is all I know. If leaving Thailand was one of the hardest decisions I'd made, leaving her was one of my biggest losses. I grieve for her, not knowing the circumstances that led to her getting lost, wishing I could help. Longing to find her again. 

Looking at my country with fresh eyes, I find myself grieving too. Britain is the nation blessed with revival after revival - outpourings of the Holy Spirit where God chose to reveal Himself in power and inspired great passion. In 1784, there had been growing desperation in prayer for a revival which would lead to the spread of the gospel 'to the most distant parts of the habitable globe'. Revivals rocked England (1500, 1739), Northern Ireland (1859), Wales (1904) and the Scottish Hebrides (1935) and brought millions to their knees in repentance and awe of God. Passionate men like George Whitefield, John Wesley and Evan Roberts lit fires in our nation, which sparked fires of the gospel as far as South Korea and America, India and Africa - the most distant parts of the habitable globe.

Yet now, this nation that was so found, so awakened to God's kingdom, seems to be running hard in the opposite direction. America tells a similar story. Where Christian revivals birthed milestones in education, science and medicine, inspired some of our greatest music and the arts, brought an end to slavery and other social evils, Christian witness is now either seen as a threat, or worse, a joke.

The modern missionary movement was birthed through William Carey, a shoemaker from Northamptonshire, who pioneered missions in India. Now for the first time in history, the balance of the world is changing. Where in the past, the political, economic, military centre and the centre of Christianity has been in the Global North, one demographic has now shifted. The Global South is now the centre of Christianity. Missions is no longer the preserve of 'the West to the rest', but as it should be, from the Global Church to the ends of the earth.*

How can the lost be found again? I'm sure Sandy could be found and won back by love. Love that goes looking for her. Love that gives extravagantly, nurtures her back to health. It doesn't have to be me, it could be anyone. The yearning of every human heart is not so different. We long to be found again. We were made for love. And the Lover who made us has many feet to go looking. Some are just out of practice. Others are asleep. But while you’re listening, He asks you, “Will you go? Love my lost ones back to found-ness.”

* "Southern Christianity was formed with and still retains many Northern trappings, so that it often appears foreign to non-Christians (and even, at times, to Southern Christians). In addition, Southern Christians have yet to assume the leadership (in areas as diverse as international Christian organizations and articulating theology) that their global numbers would seem to suggest. Southern Christians also hold a disproportionately small share of global Christian income and wealth, which can inhibit their ability to fund ministry where Christianity is growing most rapidly. Christianity’s shift to the South is not without opportunity, however. In many ways, Southern Christians’ cultures and ways of thinking resemble those of the biblical era more closely than do Northerners’, creating the potential for vibrant new theologies and ways of being the Church. Pentecostal and Charismatic spirituality also energizes many Southern Christians, although this is not without controversy. Finally, Southern Christians tend to live in closer proximity to adherents of other religions than do Northern Christians, opening doors for dialog and mission that the North often resists or avoids." (Hickman, 2014)

Somewhere between this time last year, and this time next year

Living in the present

As part of Pioneers’ mobilisation team, I recently helped facilitate our Mission: Next weekend. It was a time of stirring up zeal. We wanted those attending to get a taster of what innovation and flexibility looks like in Pioneers’ teams. By definition, it looks very different from team to location to people group. So we watched videos – little snapshots of how PI teams around the world are interpreting what it looks like to ‘live out loud’, contextual yet counter-cultural; accessible yet distinctive. We entered the subculture of skaters in Myanmar and the church planting efforts by sacrificial families in remote Chad and closed Pakistan, the metropolis of Bangkok. 

When my team’s video was played, I couldn’t stay in the room. It brought my two worlds colliding into one and I was in pieces. My recent return to the UK after serving on the Surin team in Northeast Thailand for 4 years has meant that once again, I find myself in transition. This familiar feeling comes to all of us with each new start. I thrive on innovation, I think. I’m very flexible, I think. But although this may have facilitated a smoother adjustment to the many and frequent transitions I’ve experienced (moved house 21 times; moved countries 7 times), it always comes with its share of angst.

New starts are exciting, but angst isn’t. I could go ahead with ‘just make a decision to be joyful’, but I don’t think burying angst under a façade is helpful. At that moment, I questioned this new start again for the thousandth time. My passion for the unreached is as great as ever, my desire is for the day when all have an opportunity to hear, when worship rises to Creator God from every language and colour, age and ethnicity. I long to be a part of that – that greatest goal that any of us could give ourselves for, that great ingathering into the Kingdom of God, whatever the cost.

Yet I am just as sure that there is a season for everything, and sense God’s pleasure on this season of returning to my home culture. I know Him personally – this is not some contrived theological argument to make things okay, this is the deep seated peace that transcends my unanswered questions and frequently mixed emotions, this peace that passes understanding, it is real.

He tells me to trust my choice, too. He seems to be a great fan of this free-will thing. While I may wrangle and wrestle over the fear that I may somehow ‘miss it’ (the 'it' of His Will, or my Calling, as if it was a single red line through the tangle of choices that is life), Father seems to value my relationship with Him in this over and above anything I do for Him. Never minimising the importance of a real faith that is lived out by works, He is rather calling me back simply to hear His heart first. And His heart is love. Loving acceptance of who I am, my desires, my choices.

"Live in the present", He urges gently, insistently. "You hanker after your rose-tinted memories, or live in your dreams and fears of what may be next and after that and after that. But what about this moment? This, now, here, is precious to me." He knows my heart is to serve Him, to do for Him, to win for Him. But, he pushes deeper, "Will you be more excited about being with me than doing things for me?"

What about the need for harvesters? What about the unreached millions? He knows them each by name. He is passionate for each heart. Whatever part each of us play in his Story, He is pleased. Right now, for me this means praying zealously for those He has laid on my heart; sharing my passion with the Church and helping those who are also responding to His invitation to build Kingdom, as they take steps to where He is leading. 

But as pleased as He is with this, I believe He is already pleased before we begin. We are His children! Will I be abandoned in worship to Him, snatching glimpses of Him through my busy today and just enjoy His presence? Because anything else is the outflow. 

Eyes to see

Like a torrent they come

sweeping, shamelessly taking over

Regret. Despair. Fear. 

What-ifs rage, demand answers

Hope. Nostalgia. 

The taste of dreams

Emotions unbridled 

Jostle for control

But give me eyes to see

You through this tumbling bag  

of haphazard emotions

This pick n mix

I want to see through the haze

Dimly now, now clearer

Can I trust you,

trust you even in this?

You see it all 

Yet unflinchingly love

See it clearly 

For all its rag-tag mess

The glory under wraps

You call out the Truth

Who I am and why I am 

And one look at You

Sets me free

Sheltered

Some say it like a bad word. I wear it as a badge of honour.

Re-entry stress, or reverse culture shock is the disorientated malaise in returning to a home you presume to be familiar, but which, in reality, is no more familiar than the me that called it home. Re-entry is said to be 'like wearing contact lenses in the wrong eyes. Everything looks almost right'. The longer you live overseas, the more you open yourself to 'them' and 'their world', the less you seem to fit. Anywhere.

I've been through this before. It was months of torture. Months of conflicted emotions. Wanting to be here, but also there. That is better - no this is. I prefer the me I used to be, and who am I now anyway? And so on and on it went. This time is different. There's a shelteredness here, a sense of Someone Planned This. It seems suspiciously smooth. Strangely quiet.

The tears came at the right times, and sometimes the wrong. They carried my grief, losses, unanswered questions. I barely have words for how conflicted I feel. Is this how it should be? Do I need to debrief? Receive prayer? I suspect I simply need time, Sheltered time. But whatever I need, my Shelter knows it. And He says I'm safe with Him.

If you don't know how this girl in the sculpture feels (unfortunately it isn't my creation!), if you don't know the Shelter of God's presence, His shielding from the tempest inside and out, let me share with you these words of promise:

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, 
my God, in whom I trust.”

Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. 

~ From Psalm 91

Speak to this Shelter until you live in Him. He is listening.

Ten gifts from Thailand

The change of season has arrived. Although it feels right to leave for a while and I do have an abiding peace, it has been so hard to leave this land and these people I have come to love. In my last 10 days in Thailand, I listed 10 gifts God gave me during my time there:

My epic and unforgettable farewell party was a total surprise; so many dear friends came together to send me off in style!

1. Team-mates who have become family. We have shared laughter and tears, and so many crazy adventures together. We have lived our dream and our calling together to the fullest we could, in our own flawed and imperfect ways. We became part of the furniture in each other's homes, set the world to rights around many a table of somtum and grilled chicken with sticky rice. We've screamed together in frustration over innumerable cultural blunders or parts of the culture we understand but don't like. Your children have become my nieces and nephews. Our lives have become inextricably linked. As iron sharpens iron, so you have sharpened me. Other times, you've sawn off my rough edges and we've stayed friends through it! 

2. Thankful for each Thai friend who has made space and welcomed me into their heart and home, walked with me patiently as I took baby steps to integrating in Thailand the past 4 years. You didn't need me, yet you introduced me to your world. You have enriched my life.  I've learned much from you, but best of all, I've seen Jesus in you. Seeing Him through your eyes has made Him even more beautiful. 

3. The incredible mingling of flavours in Thai food that set my tastebuds tingling, the vast range of cheap and yummy Thai snacks and fruits so readily available - durian, mangoes, lychees... how I will miss you! I will miss eating out as often as I want, and knowing it is cheap, healthy and delicious!

4. Sandy: my faithful companion, guard dog and baby for the year I lived in Surin. The little stray puppy was absolutely a gift sent from God for this time. My heart breaks to leave her behind, yet I'm comforted by the fact that her new family adore her almost as much as I do.

5. Thanking God for the privilege of being able to learn Thai, a tonal language. Despite many a language blunder, calling 'older sister' an 'evil spirit' or telling children to 'pee' rather than 'point' to their heads, I had the joy of being able to operate in the Thai language to a good degree of fluency. 

6. Thai & Isaan music that makes me sing along. I've loved being able to immerse myself in this part of the culture that is so beautiful. It's hard to choose just one track to share but here is a song about how I will miss my friends here. It brings back memories of my little Thai sister singing it for an audition!

7. Thankful for the fruit that I do/ don't see but God has brought and will bring from my time in Thailand. Today I had the privilege of hearing a few of my Thai sisters share ways they have been impacted through our friendship... I'd never have guessed. What a blessing to worship and pray with them. He's the God who brings abundance out of our small offerings, even just who we are when we're not trying to be or do something. Be encouraged as you live a life of love, it speaks loud because God puts a megaphone to our little voices. 

8. Thankful for the unique beauty of Thailand... year round hot weather, rainforested mountains in the North, tropical beaches in the South and rice fields in Isaan! I'll miss £4 Thai massages!

9. For the partnership of so many dear friends in the UK and beyond who have made serving in Thailand possible and have carried me with your prayers. Your letters and cards have lifted me so many times. I have been inspired by your example and encouragements. 

10. My heart is full with all that God has given me these past 4 years in Isaan. The biggest of these I will take with me and hope to nurture for the rest of my days... God's heart and passion for those who don't have any opportunity to know Him. It's not about changing their no to a yes, it's giving them the opportunity to choose. 86% of those in the unreached world will never meet a Christian. They'll have heard of and enjoyed Coca Cola but never heard of Jesus. This needs to change. 
I was one of these till I heard of and met Jesus at 13 and He has since been the Joy of my life. How tragic that so many are denied the opportunity to choose Him because we who know Him haven't made Him known. Today I thank God for letting me feel a fraction of His love for the unreached, and I pray that this will continue to grow, find an outlet and bear fruit whatever I go. <3  your