One of the things I’m good at is being able to identify just about every problem, obstacle, risk or difficulty in a situation. This can be helpful (especially around people who are eternal optimists), but can also be completely obnoxious both to myself and others. On my good days, this helps me keep myself and co-workers realistic, to problem-solve and anticipate problems before they happen. On my bad days, I get overwhelmed by the “what ifs” and can spiral into hopelessness.
It’s on the bad days that I most need hope in God’s ability to do 
the impossible.
Lately I’ve had some bad days. From a human point of view, the situation in my slum, as far as our ministry is concerned, could seem hopeless. Our Thai partnership has weakened considerably, to the point where I wonder if I even have any. The group of kids coming on Sundays has grown to the point of chaos, and it seems like they are not getting anything from our program and we are lucky if we just keep them from beating each other up by the end of the evening. My efforts at spending time with the women in the community is often hindered due to the gambling addiction that keeps them bent over their dice games for hours on end. One woman who I had a great relationship with recently had a fight with her husband and left.
Into this environment we have been hoping to welcome two new teammates. I have not stopped wondering how in the world this was going to work, or even whether it was worth it to try. The other community with openings is a far better set-up in terms of Thai partnership, size (it is much larger), hospitality (more Isan culture rather than central Thai), and living environment (it is better-off financially, so housing is of higher quality). If I were a new teammate, that’s where I’d want to be.
Then throw into the mix the practical: everyone I asked in my slum recently said there was no housing available.
Tuesday night I was feeling particularly frustrated. Everything in me wanted to recommend this other slum, Samaki, to our new teammates. But that would leave me alone in my slum, something I think I can live with for only so much longer.
So I prayed what felt like a weak and maybe foolish prayer. I asked God to give me some kind of sign. This is maybe only a month after a prayer time where I had clearly heard that it was good and right for me to continue being in Phothong for now. But here I was, completely doubting everything, using my human reason to decide that the situation looked hopeless. So, okay, God– if you want this to work, you need to convince me. And the sign I’d really like is for housing to open up.
The first thing that happened is I went home Tuesday, walked by the house of the woman who had left her husband, and she had moved back in. This is someone who has been particularly welcoming of potential teammates when they have come to visit, so this meant a lot to me that she is part of the community again.
Then on Wednesday I hung out with a family I spend a lot of time with. As I was sitting there a woman came up to me. “Are you still looking for a house for your friends?” And she led me to a completely open house, being rented by its owner, plenty big enough for two new teammates, and close to friendly neighbors who I’m sure would give them a warm welcome.
We don’t know if it will be available in a month, when they come. I haven’t seen the inside yet to see what condition it’s in. But it served its purpose. Thank you, God, for this truly undeserved grace. And for teaching me to expect the unexpected. The foolishness of God truly is wiser than man’s wisdom. Who knows what God will do in this most unlikely of places? He is certainly capable of more than I can imagine.
The needs in the slums of Bangkok are immense. The questions about how to best serve in the slums are endless. It can feel overwhelming to try to discover what seem like the most pressing felt needs, what the roots of those problems are, how to best work toward solutions without creating dependency, how to balance addressing physical needs with the spiritual…. etc.
And in the midst of this I feel very small and kind of foolish. I have no advanced degree, very little training in urban work, my health is unpredictable at best, I am not charismatic and I’m not all that great with kids.
But I’m beginning to see that this is all not nearly as important as I tend to believe. My experience at our house church last week taught me this in a new way.
As usual, we had dozens of children in my house, eager to worship and learn about the Creation story (our theme for the month), and also bouncing off the walls. I felt particularly exhausted that evening (it turned out that I probably had mono, so no wonder) which made me feel even more ineffective than usual. Getting the kids to sit and be quiet enough that I could give instructions without screaming was nearly impossible, let alone teaching about God in a way that makes sense to them and is appealing, or addressing their many emotional and physical needs.
In the midst of the chaos, and my tiredness, I felt like God was bringing a couple of the children in particular to my attention. They were two of the smallest ones, more malnourished, dirtier, more often violent and out-of-control, clearly suffering emotional scars caused at home.
I held each one of them in my lap, and it was like all the turmoil in their little bodies melted away for awhile. Normally they cannot sit for more than a minute, but these two each spent a good ten minutes without moving as I held them, as if they were starved for this physical touch.
And I’ve recently noticed, more than I did before, how parents and older siblings often push away these little ones when they try to get close, or pretend to not even see them when they return home from work. The stress and despair their families live under leaves them with little ability to love their youngest members.
I’m beginning to realize that this is something I can give. I may feel overwhelmed by the extent of the brokenness in my slum, I may feel too tired to play high-energy games with the kids, but I can hold them sometimes. I can affirm them and pay attention to them and in that way help them to experience a kind of unconditional love that hopefully will lead them to the Source of that love.
And it reminds me this love and this Lover are the most valuable gifts I have to give to this slum. Something I know in my mind, but which God continues to gracefully teach my heart, with experiences like these.
One of the major works God has been doing in me over furlough is giving me peace over who he created me to be.
To me, the stereotypical (and ideal, I’ve believed for so long) missionary is narrowly defined. Extroverted, people-oriented, spontaneous, able to endure anything, endowed with the more “showy” gifts (e.g. healing, evangelism, leadership, etc.).
So I have tried hard to be that person. But in reality, I am task-oriented, practical, introverted, have a weak immune system, and am likely gifted in things like teaching, administration, and maybe prayer. If you are familiar with the Myers-Briggs personality inventory, I am an ISTJ.
In my “class” at the Servant Partners training last year, after taking a personality test, I was the sole person out the ten of us to fall into the “task-oriented, introverted” category. The gifted woman leading us told me that my personality type is seen as stereotypically male as well, and can be subtly (or not-so-subtly) undervalued in society when a woman possesses it. I would say that in my campus ministry chapter this personality type was underrepresented, and the people on whom the spotlight fell were mostly the extroverted, evangelistic type. For these reasons and others, I have felt like I needed to be more like that type of person to be more greatly used by God.
But during this furlough God has been showing me ways that my particular makeup is really a blessing to my team, and to the Thais, in Bangkok. There are tasks and projects these past two years that would not have gotten done or would have been done less efficiently if I had not been there. There are Thais who I am particularly able to connect with on a deep level because I tend to focus on a few and invest a lot in them, and because my personality type meshes well with them. I am able to analyze plans and systems and spot potential challenges or problems that others may not have anticipated. Computers come naturally to me, I enjoy poring over books on Buddhist philosophy, Thai grammar, the roots of poverty. And these are all good things.
Where I previously saw this type of person, or these characteristics in me, as less valuable “parts of the body,” I now firmly believe “God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be?” (1 Corinthians 12:18-19)
So I’m learning to embrace who I am and invite God to use those parts of me. I believe he longs to have not a crippled Body as his witness, or one where feet are trying to act like hands (creates a funny mental image, though). I am being much more faithful living out of who God actually made me to be, rather than as someone I would prefer to be. And he is even helping me to enjoy my particular makeup and gifts, and to be glad that I am this way.
As I head back to the field, my role will look different. I will be taking on more managerial tasks with our foundation, working on much needed efforts such as budget, promotions, grant-writing, procedural methods. I will be working with the new business we are starting, a temp agency to both employ and train slum-dwellers to advance in the formal economy. I will continue as our team’s webmaster, and also help with a new media project the Servant Partners’ founder is pioneering. I will help with teaching in settings such as our leaders trainings and house church meetings. I will still live in a slum, seek to love and serve my neighbors, but will leave most of the spontaneous evangelism and community organizing to those Thais and team members who are gifted in those areas.
I am excited to see how God will use me as I submit my gifts to him.
“… and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Luke 18:16-17
Last night my house was full of children again for house church. Mostly 6- and 7-year-olds, with a couple older boys. I sometimes wonder what the value of these meetings is, strategically. I mean, if we’re hoping to transfer ownership of this church to locals of the slum, then shouldn’t we mainly be seeking out the adults?
But I was reminded again last night, that God chooses the foolish things to shame the wise, that maybe I should be taking my cues from these little ones, the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.
We always open our worship times with prayer, and this time our Thai leader Nim made a point of getting the kids to quiet down and focus on Jesus. “Sit like they teach you to at the Buddhist temples,” she said, which prompted them to sit cross-legged, hands open in the lap and eyes closed. They clearly have some practice in this. “Now listen to Jesus, listen to God.” And she read a psalm and led us in prayer.
Afterwards she asked them “children, did any of you see or hear anything?” “I saw a light” said three or four in unison. “I heard a voice calling my name,” said little 6-year-old Beng, who lives next door and visits me often.
“That’s Jesus, child, that’s Jesus calling you,” Nim said. “And that light is God’s light that you are seeing.”
During our closing prayer time we asked the kids for prayer requests. Often it is difficult to get them to say anything. But this time was different.
“What do you want to ask from God? How do you want him to bless you?” Nim asked.
“I want him to bring my mother back to live with my dad.” “I want him to heal my grandmother.” “I want him to help my father stop drinking.” “I want him to stop the violence down in the south.”
Could it be that these little ones will be the start of a movement here in the slum of Phothong? Could their beautiful faith and earnest prayers be the salt and light here? It would certainly be in the character of a God who has done far more foolish things in the eyes of the world. I know that for me Jesus was a little more real to me last night because of those children. Who’s to say that they aren’t the most “strategic” ones for us to love and invest in?
I have noticed a new sign lately that I am another large step out of culture shock. I have found myself defending Thais, rather than joining in to the conversations of “why in the world do they believe…”, “it doesn’t make any sense when they….”, “why can’t they just understand…”. I think in the midst of culture shock, when much is new and foreign, we tend to believe that what confuses us just doesn’t match up to some universal logic or set of morals. And so because we don’t understand, we easily label it as foolish. But as I have come to learn about and from my Thai, Buddhist neighbors more about why they do what they do and believe what they believe, I have gained a greater respect for them and their beliefs.
Now this has not at all changed my own beliefs– about God, man and how we are to live. I think we can hold firmly to our own convictions without having to belittle the people who hold others. I will never believe Buddhism is the path to salvation, but I no longer think the people who do are stupid. As I have done more study into the religion I now realize it is far more complex than what we see on the outside. Not only that, but I’m begininning to understand more deeply how it affects Thais to believe one thing fervently since childhood, along with every known family member and ancestor, not to mention every government official and member of the country’s royalty.
Yes, Thais bow down to man-made Buddha images, and yes they know that these figures cannot hear or speak or move. They believe in a spiritual power behind these statues, not the materials themselves. They have been doing this since they were babies and their parents held their hands together for them in the Thai gesture of respect, and they watched everyone around them doing this as they grew up.
Buddhism is not simply a religion of killing off one’s desires and spending long hours in silent meditation. It actually has many honorable teachings, such as doing good rather than evil, self-restraint, refraining from greed, respecting one’s elders, seeking after wisdom.
It is true, however, that the aim of Buddhism is to attain one’s salvation by one’s own efforts, and this can never be accomplished. Buddhists need Jesus. They need the freedom of knowing that Christ’s work on the cross gave us freedom from needing to earn enough merit to get to heaven. They need Jesus’ forgiveness for the ways they have abandoned the creator God and turned to lesser gods. They need love from the Lord rather than the callous indifference of their idols. In this country of broken families, they need a Father.
But no amount of arguing or comparing Christianity to Buddhism in a simplistic way will ever get through to them. It is not that their beliefs are foolish and ours make complete sense. To them, our religion is too easy– free forgiveness from sin is ridiculous. And that God would lower himself to become man– ludicrous. To Thais, if you do good you receive good and if you do evil you receive evil. None of this free mercy or suffering of the godly that Christians believe in.
So for my neighbors, it is not a simple turning from what we often see as the obviously false to the obviously true. In our churches here, almost across the board people have come to Christ after a personal, tangible experience with God. Only when they feel that he is real and alive and longing for relationship with them does that knowledge break through the paradigm they have grown up with. Many have had dreams and visions, miraculous healing, or sensations during worship that convince them that Christianity is not a man-made religion but a relationship with a living God.
I have been doing research into Buddhism not to create a well-formed apologetic approach to presenting the Gospel to Buddhists, but to understand them better. My readings, and conviction from the Lord, has helped me to turn from my temptation to be condescending and disrespectful, if only in my thoughts, to having a deeper love and depth of understanding of my neighbors. It has also given me ways to begin conversation, to know more of what the deep longings of the Thais are and how they are trying to attain them through their religion. When I can use my intellectual understanding to be able to connect to the hearts of people here, rather than rational argument, that, I believe, is when I am best able to communicate the Gospel.
Please pray for my continued efforts to show Christ’s love through my life and my words among Buddhist slum-dwellers in Bangkok.
It has been a WHILE since I posted last, mainly because most of my online work has been on our team website. That nearly finished, I should have more time now to post personal thoughts here.
I recently went on a 2-week personal retreat, to rest after a series of illnesses and accompanying lack of energy for ministry. I went to Hua Hin, one of the less crowded beaches here in Thailand, and spent many hours watching the waves, reading, sleeping, eating good fresh seafood. 
One of the questions that has been stirring in me is that of calling. I came here as a 23-year-old with practically no training for full-time ministry, hardly aware of who I am, longing to partner with God in his work among the poor but clueless as to how to do that. At first, I was just learning the language, so my task was fairly uncomplicated (though not exactly easy!). Now as I get my feet wet in ministry, I feel somewhat like I am trying to fit a round peg in a square hole. I am in highly extroverted roles (like youth ministry), though I am an introvert. Living in the slum offers very little privacy, and while the cultural value is “the more, the merrier”, I am realizing that I absolutely must have time to myself in order to rest and reflect. I do not exactly have the ideal personality for getting to know an entire slum community, I am not charasmatic or visionary, I seem to thrive when I am doing website design, prepping Bible studies and other detail-oriented roles. How do I fit into this ministry, especially living incarnationally in the slum?
Last December I met a woman (I can’t remember her name now) who has lived in a Bangkok slum for many, many years now. During our brief conversation, she kept saying the same thing: “Just love them. Just love them.”
When I remember that, it simplifies everything. It stops me in my tracks when I am trying to be someone I’m not, or wishing I had certain gifts or personality traits I do not. God created each one of us differently, but we are all capable of love. Extraverts are not the only ones capable of living among the poor and loving them. Though it may manifest itself in different ways, if we have the love of Jesus in us, we can share that with those around us.
Love is a fruit of the Spirit, not a spiritual gift given to a select few. It is a command, not a talent.
On my reteat I was reminded of this again as I meditated on 1 Corinthians 12 and 13. Chapter 12 is on spiritual gifts, how we are all part of the same body, that God created us the way he did ON PURPOSE to serve a special role in his mission.
Then the last sentence: “And now I will show you the most excellent way.” And that is love. Gifts are useless without love. Even giving to the poor and self-sacrifice are worthless without love. And though we may not all prophesy or teach or have gifts of healing, though the places and people we are sent to are different, we are all called to love. And love is really what the poor need. By God’s grace, that, I know, I have to give.
May God have such access to each of our hearts and wills that his redeeming love would flow from us, in the unique manifestation that we each offer. May he continue to show me what unique role he has created me for, so I can give him full access to use me in that way. But more importantly, would I be willing to love, without fear.
Feeds
