Where did that year go?

Already, it is a year since I returned from Thailand.

A year of "I can understand literally
every word you're saying"
And a year of "Sigh. I'm losing my Thai."

The relief of 'at home'
and the ache of missing my Thai home.
Enjoying a roast dinner and craving somtam.

Of frustration with British reserve
but gratitude for their time keeping.

Energy of new routines, fresh starts and flexible schedules
of wondering, "Surely Someone has planned all this for me"

A year of possibilities
Of longings fulfilled
Fresh longings birthed.

Uncertainty unwrapped to find
the unknown held by the One who knows.
Father's hand in mine.

Today marks one year of change
and one more year of peace
in the One God who doesn't change.

Cultivate the Conversation

"Hey, I hear you're in town. Come over if you have some time, it'd be great to catch-up!" 

You can't beat messages like this when they ping up on your phone. To know that someone is reaching out to me, wants to spend time with me - what an invitation. 

"I just wanted to call you, even if it was only for 5 minutes... how are you doing?" 

It makes my heart fill with the warmth of being loved, cared about. It makes me trust them - they have my back.  

What about when the phone is silent and your diary shows empty evenings? The longing for connection can be pushed down but it's always there. We're made for connection. Relationship gives us fiercely independent people something we don't think we want, but what we actually need most. The joy of being known and heard, and wanted and loved. Sometimes it takes those lonely moments to remind us of the Father's heart. He's the One who designed connection, wired us for it. 

And He's no sadist, creating us one way and denying us that very thing. He is Connection itself, the triune God in perfect relationship. He is the meeter of that deepest of needs. He is the invisible passenger in the car as I drive home from work. He's the One holding me close when I need a hug. He's with me as I shop for groceries and is the only one who can bear with me in the morning grumps! He doesn't just want to do the serious stuff with me, but the fun stuff too. He created the whole range of emotions and we can share each one with Him. 

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." (John 15:15-17)

We've been trusted with a treasure richer than our wildest imagination - friendship with the Creator of the universe. Why do we so often spurn it for friends with skin on? He is always with us, he has shared everything with us. His desire is for us. Yep, it's that simple. For you. He desires to share your day with you. He'd love you to tell him about the big anxieties weighing on you and let Him take care of them so you can live light. But he'd also love to be with you while you live light, enjoying the aroma of coffee filling your nostrils and taking time with friends. 

The hardest part is waking up our senses to actually be aware of Him. Once we are, friendship flows naturally, because He is irresistible. He is the source of every good thing in your life. Let's remind ourselves today, to talk to Him in our hearts. Cultivate conversation with God. Give yourself permission to whisper your love to Him, or have a natter with Him in the car on your way home, sing at the top of your lungs, shout out a rant when that's your present reality. Breathe Him in as you walk by the river, laugh with Him about that crazy incident earlier. He's with you, and loves your friendship. 

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 

The beauty of hindsight

As the warm glow of autumn gave way to the stark chill of winter, I got trigger happy with my camera. There is just so much beauty. 

 The pictures remind me that life has seasons, each with its unique beauty. Each makes the seasons before and after make sense. Each makes the other more beautiful.

 So as I look back at the year gone by, I am blessed with the clarity of hindsight.

A letter to the me of last year:

Remember Jesus.

Don't believe everything you think. 

When the tears flow freely, let them. Leave space for lament. 

When you can't see the way ahead, even the uncertainty has a reason. 

When everyone else seems to have it easy, they actually think the same of you. 

When you don't have words for prayer, you're learning to pray with your spirit.

When dreams cause pain and confusion, wait for their meaning. 

When you have nothing to give, it's okay to receive. 

When all seems lost, don't be fooled. 

Remember who He is.

I wish foresight was as clear as hindsight, but it never is. In the moment of pain and confusion, I can be so blinded by my emotions, I lose sight of God.  Yet that is when I have needed Him the most, and He has always shown up.  He has sent the right person, the right word, in the nick of time.  He has been the friend who sticks closer than a brother.  

As I look back, I am humbled by my Father's tender care.  A friend said to me recently, 'He's the God of the curve ball'. I've certainly seen that this year.  Out of nowhere the setbacks came, hard on the heels of the last. Some solutions came just as fast.  Other times, answers were slow in coming, or didn't come at all and I wondered why.  I learned to wait, to walk in faith.  

For the revelation awaits an appointed time;
it speaks of the end and will not prove false.
Though it linger, wait for it;
it will certainly come
and will not delay. (Hab 2:3)

As one year gives way to the next, I only ask that these precious lessons would not be wasted. That I would take them with me into the challenges that lie ahead. That I would trust Father when foresight is insufficient, and wait for hindsight.  Because He sees it all at once, and allows each season to run its course, mark its own particular beauty into the landscape of my life.

Saying no to #FOMO

We make thousands of choices everyday, and some can be downright hard: Apple crumble or cheesecake? Custard or cream?! For those of us prone to minor FOMO, 'What ifs' can be hard to live with. When I'm faced with a crossroads (we're talking bigger than pudding choices now!) I can often see the risks and the potential in either choice. And then I struggle to choose, an internal battle ensues... I can develop a case of major FOMO.

But when you think about it, who doesn't. Under control, it can actually be a drive to try new things, push the boat out. If it controls you, it can be paralysing. FOMO says whatever you choose, you will miss out on something else. And the imagined loss of whatever you feel like you may miss out on, if it's attached to a deep value, can create a sense of hopelessness. Things can seem really bleak, even though the reality is, nothing bad has actually yet happened. That's the power of fear, and it's deceptive nature reeks of its master. Because in the muddle of fear, we lose sight of hope.

A dear friend reminded me that HOPE grows out of soaking in who God is, and in experiences of His kindness. And FAITH is "confidence in the kindness of God despite the circumstances" (Ann Voskamp). Faith building, then, is looking for His kindness. And if we can just lift our eyes off our feelings and look, really look for His fingerprints, we find we have an infinitely good, kind Father.

In time, and it often does take time, I make my choice in faith. I walk through the door it seems God is opening, resisting the temptation of pushing another one open. I'm tentative at first; courage is not the absence of fear but taking action despite it. I know the costs well at this stage, the risks are real, whatever I choose. There has been soul-searching, wrestling prayer.

Continually choosing to surrender my tangle of thoughts, I determine in my heart that God is God, and I am not. (Why are the simplest truths usually the most profound and the hardest to live out?) That He is in control, and He is going to use my choice to work out his good purposes.

And in this 'simple' acknowledgement, quietly, the battle against FOMO is won today. I know I will have to say it again tomorrow, but I'm celebrating each step.

I Will Not Die an Unlived Life
~ By Dawna Markova (2008)

I will not die an unlived life 
I will not live in fear 
of falling or catching fire. 
I choose to inhabit my days, 
to allow my living to open me, 
to make me less afraid, 
more accessible, 
to loosen my heart 
until it becomes a wing, 
a torch, a promise. 
I choose to risk my significance; 
to live so that which came to me as seed 
goes to the next as blossom 
and that which came to me as blossom, 
goes on as fruit.

This stunning poem is such a gift to me, reminding me to live and make my choices with passion and on purpose, not out of fear. I am sure I'm not on my own here with my FOMO issues. If you relate, and have a story of how you overcame it, do share it in the comments.

What feeds your soul?

A walk in the hills fed mine.

We walked and talked, Dad and I
Breathing freedom, my melody rose.

Meeting a friend for a party of praise
Inhibitions dropped off
Along with the weights.  

A wedding boogie, games with the fam
When laughing tears flow often
My soul's watered.

Work, designed in perfect Eden
Catalyses, enlivens
Calls forth my best Nam.

I get lost in the story,
His Kingdom does come!
Despite how I feel, it's bigger than me.

My soul's well fed
I'm remembering Love ~
I'm joyfully His, and He's got this. 

One of the things that I have been chewing on this month is a fantastic book called Dirty Glory, by Pete Greig. No he is not paying me to say this, but it is a book that will make you fall in love with Jesus again, inspire prayer to bubble out of your spirit and spur you out into living the gospel on the streets. Book plug done... Just wanted to share the feast. ;)

 

An oasis of connection

One of the unique challenges of living and working in a country and culture not your own is a distinct lack of connection. As soon as you step out of your house you are immersed in a language and worldview, ways of thinking and questioning and conversing that are not your own. What I often get is a friendly 'getting-to-know-you' interrogation, just a casual series of friendly questions like

What are you doing here?
  Who do you live with?
    How much do you pay for rent?
      Why do you live alone, that's terrible.
         By the way what is your street and house number?
          What, you don't have kids yet?
             How old are you?
              Why haven't you married?
                You really should hurry up with that.
                  Would you like me to hook you up?

What is meant as a friendly chat, as you can imagine feels to the Western mind like my own very personal Spanish inquisition.  In that sense, coming home to the UK has been a relief. It is an oasis of connection. People converse in ways that feel normal and comfortable to me and in a language I don't have to put a lot of energy into using. That in itself feels like a good long drink to my soul - an oasis.

But there is also a challenge to being home. In a way, the connection itself is a challenge. Because friends here have no real idea of my world in Thailand with its unique oddities and joys and challenges, I paint elaborate word pictures to help you get a small glimpse. But whether I am at my UK 'home' or my Thai one, there is no one who has stepped into everything and every place that makes me who I am.

And then I realise that what I really long for is a level of connection where I am fully known and understood. Where my heart is heard without needing explanation because the experiences have been shared. The loss of being fully known is one of the things I grieve most in this path of life I have chosen.

At times it feels a bit overwhelming to have so many pieces of me scattered across the world, and communicating enough to make myself understood to those around me whichever context I find myself in. Yet that loss comes with a deep blessing. It gives me the unique advantage that my Father God is the only One who can really be my Oasis. He has been water to my soul wherever I am. In Thailand and here, He has shared every story I have lived. He doesn't need me to be a great communicator, He can just hold me with all of my complexity and scattered-ness and say to me, "I know". Because He has been there first, and He has been there with me.

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.  Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Heb 4:15,16)

What wonderful comfort to realise then that I can go to my Oasis every day, because He is always with me. If you are feeling and grieving a lack of connection, let me encourage you to visit the Oasis. 

You'd never guess from the smiles

Thailand is the 'Land of Smiles'. But today God was showing me the brokenness just under the surface, His desperation for the lost ones around me. My heart grieved as one after another, I saw brokenness unfold through my day.
A woman whose Facebook profile is more important to her than real life. It is built on lies, she is broken about her reality of poverty and lack.
A girl who sheds crocodile tears and weaves stories to get her own way. Her father has a mistress his daughter's age.
A young boy of 10 whose broken heart burned with anger against his mother. She didn't have time to make sure he showered for the past 4 days. He felt he should be beaten for his behaviour.
You'd never guess from the smiles.

First, a wedding. What could possibly be sad at a wedding? The bride was a nominal Christian, the groom a folk Buddhist. The teenage couple already had a child. Yesterday the wedding party spent all day with a spirit medium, asking what demands the evil spirits would make, doing all that they could to appease them. Today the wedding ceremony was to take place. The Pastor had spent the past 3 nights sleepless, wondering how to conduct such a ceremony in good conscience before God, where evil spirits were being openly worshipped by one party while the other wanted to do 'the right thing'. If he didn't conduct a Christian ceremony, they would bow down only to demons on their wedding day.

The ceremony began at the bride's home. Outside, she had to serve whiskey to the groomsmen, which was downed in one, to loud cheering and applause. The father of the bride (not a believer) was already quite drunk at 9 am, the groom's party not far off. The Christian wedding ceremony then took place inside the house, the groom's mother in floods of tears, heart broken over her teenage son rushing into marriage and fatherhood. The ceremony was touching. The groom's friends and villagers ate and drank outside. "What's taking so long?!" someone shouted mid-way through.
55 000 Baht was given as the customary gift from the groom's parents to the bride's. They wanted it to be 80 000 but hadn't had time to save up for it. The ceremony complete, blaring loudspeakers signalled the drunken street party had resumed. I asked myself, what union does the kingdom of light have with the kingdom of darkness? I was reminded of the kings of Judah and Israel, compromising the worship of the Most High God by worshipping other gods, and us likewise worshipping our own thoughts on what is right or wrong, or permissible. And I felt Father weep over His children.

As soon as we returned from the wedding, my friend Mot called - her sister had been killed in a car accident. She was my age, I had just met her yesterday. Shock and tears were all my friend had, while trying frantically to juggle all the phonecalls, demands, decisions to organise the funeral and get paperwork in order. Her sister had not been a believer, and neither was the wider family. Mot, the only believer in the family grieved hard. She knew her sister was gone and the funeral would do nothing to change her fate now. I stayed with her a few hours, as people drifted in and out. Just yesterday we had been sharing with her aged grandparents, thinking Grandad didn't have long to live. Today we were confronted with the brevity of life itself, no matter how old we are. "All I can say is, I need to love people more. I need to love people while I can, because you never know when time will run out", she said.

Finally, I went to the market to buy some things and walk around to relax a little. I met two ladies while looking at some Thai silk. In a few minutes, one of them revealed she was worried about her 15 year old daughter who had got lost. She ran away from home 3 days ago after being beaten by her father. They've heard nothing from her and have no idea where she is. Her mother is a battered wife - all 6 children suffer at the hands of the father. I prayed with her, we wept. So did Father God.

On days like this, the world seems to cave in. There is just too much brokenness. Much of it is within the church. Those outside are even worse off. I know Jesus is the healer, and He lives in me. But the darkness can sometimes be deafening.

Soil season

26 And he said, “The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground.27 He sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. 28 The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come.” Mark 4:26-29 

It is one of life's mysteries. New life springs up seemingly by itself, from a miniscule seed. I listened to a sermon on these verses (see link below), and it seemed to sum up this season I find myself in. As I near the end of one year here in Surin, it seems like so much has happened, my processing machine is still catching up... yet there are almost no visible results. Maybe that is what the seed feels like when it has been buried in the ground. 

"It takes faith to sow, and faith to reap, but what takes most faith is to stay buried in the soil of uncertainty, and keep growing - to believe that the purpose is still working out, even when the process is invisible". (Steven Furtick) I can certainly attest to this truth. I have had much experience in scattering, and in harvesting. Those stages are fun, exciting, there is a lot to write home about. But what about when you're in the soil stage? To the seed, it feels like death. All is dark, nothing seems to be happening, nothing can be done to speed it up. For the more 'driven' seeds like me, this is unbearable! You mean you want me to do nothing? Pray and rest and wait? God's time? WHAT?! Can I sign on to a different program? 

Yet, there can be no harvest without the soil stage. In this stage, the seed discovers the beauty of divine design. Turns out, the seed is well provided for and well protected. The seed consists of 3 parts - an embryonic plant, stored food and a protective seed coat. All it needs has been given already. It still needs water, but it is helpless to provide this itself. This need is met from above. The seed coat protects it from all kinds of damage - physical, temperature related and water. In fact what looks like nothing and feels like death is actually a bulletproof bunker. It is a densely packed nutrient bomb, exploding with life. 

For a driven seed like me, my biggest challenge in the soil stage is my involvement. When divine design means a wait,  He has His reasons and I must learn to respect them. I know I am not alone in wanting to speed things up, take back control. 

Waiting however, doesn't mean we stop scattering seed. Satan doesn't take days off, and neither does the Holy Spirit. I love how James Fraser put it, "As long as it is day, the people of God need to be up and doing to the limit of the strength which God supplies. On the other hand, we cannot fret souls into the Kingdom of Heaven. The seedlings God had planted would grow better under His open sky than under our feverish effort."

Our challenge as people of faith is to synchronise our faith with God's schedule. Indeed, the seed is still on schedule! 

(For the full sermon by Steven Furtick, from which most of these thoughts are taken, visit https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GMK4fVnUUQ ) 

More than food

Are you hungry for more of God?   ...Have you ever tried fasting?
This week I ate manna.  Okay, not literally, but I did experience that it is possible to live, in fact thrive on spiritual food alone. Contrary to how we feel when we sit in front of a Sunday roast, the body is more than food! Fasting means giving up a craving of the body for a deeper need of the spirit.

After some nudges from the Lord, I decided to try an extended fast for the first time.  No, I am not a Christian superhero, I am actually a pretty pathetic faster. I have done it usually for one day at a time, and felt so hungry I counted down to midnight and raided the fridge when the clock struck 12. And that is if I made it to midnight at all... If I was breaking the fast at dinner time, I even found it hard to stick to a time - everything is negotiable when hunger pangs strike! 

But I heard that after day 3 you stop feeling hungry, and the rewards Isaiah 58 describes are so much greater than the sacrifice of food. Besides, I have wanted so long to really mean what I say to God, that I want more of Him, to have Him working on my behalf, to hear His voice and see through His eyes. So I committed to a longer fast. It was a significant week, important decisions had to be made and I wanted God's heart on it. 

Day 1 was not too bad. I knew I had a lot more days in front of me and so I didn't think about food. 

By day 2, my housemate had joined me! She had never fasted in her life, but now she felt God was leading her to a 3 day fast. This made things much easier! 

Day 3 was a struggle. I felt tired and lethargic. We had to take things easy in terms of activity level this week, to make sure we could sustain the fast. Incredibly, after day 3, I really did stop feeling hungry. I drank a lot of water and sometimes diluted fruit juice, and I felt almost completely normal!

For my housemate, the motivation was spiritual refreshment. She got more than she bargained for! During her fast, God gave a word of knowledge to a pastor at church about some inner healing issues in my friend's heart. She was able to receive freedom from years of pain, and newness of life in place of wounds and scars.

As for me, not only did 3 others start fasting as a result of my decision (and got blessed beyond their wildest expectations), but I saw God move on my behalf in a miraculous way. He orchestrated events around me to lead me in ways I had not known. Just as in Jeremiah 33:3 "Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known." 

And so as I draw to the end of my fast, I wonder why this incredible gift is so ignored in most of our lives. Even secular wisdom says fasting does miracles for the body. Not to mention fasting being a theme throughout the Bible and Jesus teaching us what do when we fast, not if (Matthew 6). Given the physical benefits of fasting and the spiritual breakthroughs it can bring accompanied by prayer (Matthew 17:21 ~ some kinds of deliverance only come through prayer and fasting), why has fasting become an optional extra in Christian circles? 

I challenge you to try it. Be wise in how you fast, how long and what purpose you choose to fast for. Read up on how you prepare for it and come out of it, and try it. You will not be disappointed. As of now, I want to make fasting a regular discipline in my life. I'm impatient - and it gets me wonderful results in a short time! If you try it, let me know in the comments. And may God blow the roof off your spiritual life. 

Standing my ground

Though times it seems like I'm coming undone
This walk can often feel lonely
No matter what until this race is won
I will stand my ground where hope can be found 
~ Lyrics from Lauren Daigle's song, 'O Lord'. 

There has been a battle for hope here this month. What does it mean for you to stand your ground where hope can be found? For me it has meant clinging to God's Word as TRUTH.  I once read these 5 points of what it means to believe God:

God is who He says He is. 
God can do what He says He can do. 
I am who He says I am. 
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. 
I believe God. *

Numbering them off on my fingers, this month more than most, I have had to put these to work.
Although Satan's mind games are (literally) the oldest tricks in the book, he still uses them because they work. It takes discernment and an exercise of the will towards faith to combat them. Because often what we see, hear or feel is not the truth. I have found myself caught up in floods of thoughts that are not my own, but in fact from the pit. It has pushed me back to the Word, to stand my ground on the Truth, so I don't drown in the false accusations, condemnation and discouragement that come as insidious little thoughts but snowball in minutes. My answers have come from Isaiah 49:
 He said to me, ‘You are my servant,    Israel, in whom I will display my splendour.’

But I said, ‘I have laboured in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing at all.Yet what is due to me is in the Lord’s hand, and my reward is with my God.’ (Isa 49:3,4)


Being the month of the Thai New Year (Water festival), it was a month of more sacred rituals and ceremonies than the rest of the year. From all outward appearances, this is enemy territory. He seems to have a tight grip on the hearts and minds of Thai people. Yet we trust the Word of God because that is the TRUTH: 

This is what the Sovereign Lord says:

‘See, I will beckon to the nations, I will lift up my banner to the peoples; they will bring your sons in their arms
    and carry your daughters on their hips...

Then you will know that I am the Lord;
    those who hope in me will not be disappointed.’

 Can plunder be taken from warriors,
    or captives be rescued from the fierce?

But this is what the Lord says:

‘Yes, captives will be taken from warriors,
    and plunder retrieved from the fierce;
I will contend with those who contend with you,
    and your children I will save.

(Isa 49:22-25)

This is His people, He is sovereign, He is building His kingdom here and the gates of hell will not stand against it. Holding on to this, believing it despite everything, means standing my ground where hope can be found.

What has 'standing your ground' meant for you? Leave a comment to share the encouragement! 

* From Believing God, by Beth Moore