For previous updates about my life and work State-side, go here.

2.  You can’t get over the conveniences of drinkable tap water, washers and dryers, hot showers.

3.  You still frequently think and dream in Thai.

4.  You feel strangely isolated knowing that no one around you would understand you if you spoke in Thai.

5.  You feel confused about simple things like telephone etiquette and tipping.

6.  You get unnaturally gleeful over a plate of rice.

7.  Certain worship songs you knew in both Thai and English are now more familiar in Thai.

8.  You think about people back in Thailand a LOT.

9.  You cringe and try hard not to judge people whenever food is thrown away.

10.  You try hard not to judge people about a lot of things.

11.  You feel guilty, somehow, for leaving.

12.  You feel more poor in America than you did living in a slum in Thailand.

13.  You don’t recognize a single song on the radio.

14.  You’re back on season 2 of Lost.

15.  You don’t get fazed a bit by L.A. traffic.

16.  You still calculate prices into baht.

17.  You realize one day how nice it is not have any mosquito, ant, or cockroach bites.

18.  It seems like everyone around you is always SO BUSY.

19.  You find yourself forgetting that certain topics are taboo here that you’re used to being open about.

20.  You feel like you knew who you were in Thailand, but have to figure out who you are now in America.

21.  You realize you’ve adapted Thai values that people around you don’t necessarily have.

22.  You assume that, like Thais, your friends often have a hidden meaning to what they say, when they usually don’t.

23.  You feel like you have to start over from scratch in every area of your life.

24.  You realize you aged during your time overseas, and haven’t returned to a former age as well as a former country.

This morning I have the opportunity to share about my five years in Thailand, and the great challenge of condensing it into 20 minutes.  Let’s see, that would be about four minutes per year, less than 30 seconds per month….  No, don’t worry, I won’t try to do that.  I’ll just give some highlights, some snapshots into what God was doing that I got to be a part of.

For people who aren’t familiar with what I’ve been up to:  in October I returned from five years of living and serving in the slums of Bangkok, Thailand.  My team and I worked alongside local Thai church leaders to reach out to the poor in that city.   Our vision was to see God’s Kingdom coming to the slums.  What that meant to us was not just spiritual salvation, but healing and justice and things made right in all of the brokenness in those slums.  So we worked with people in the communities to address their felt needs, to become empowered to work for change, as well as sharing verbally about Jesus to those who were interested.  We partnered with a Thai foundation to minister to tangible needs in the slums.  And ultimately we wanted to see churches planted, led by Thais in Thai ways, that reached out holistically to its neighbors, and reproduced to other communities.  Later I’ll give some examples of how we did those things.

When I found out that today the church celebrates epiphany, I thought that was really cool timing.  Because in the last few months I was in Thailand I watched my slum community have its own epiphany.  The meaning of this word in Greek is similar to “manifestation” or “revelation”.  We say things like “I had an epiphany!” often to mean we figured something out, had a flash of insight.  But the Biblical epiphany means God making himself known to man.  His initiative, not ours.  God coming to live among us, rather than us figuring out how to get to God.  Jesus was born into our world, born into each of our hearts, born into that slum in Bangkok.  I was there in Thailand as a missionary, but really it was God doing the work, drawing people to himself.  I just got to be along for the ride.

At epiphany we often reflect on the magi, or wise men, and their journey to Bethlehem.  The passage I chose from Colossians captures beautifully what it is that these magi discovered, what it is that my neighbors experienced and that I got to experience anew as I saw their child-like wonder of new faith.

(Colossians 1:15-23) He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his fleshly body through death, so as to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him— provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith, without shifting from the hope promised by the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven. I, Paul, became a servant of this gospel.

There is so much packed into this passage.  It’s rich with meaning and symbolism.  I’m going to just touch on two themes and how I experienced this in Bangkok.  The first is this idea of Jesus being the “fullness of God”, which was “pleased” to dwell in Jesus, to dwell in our flesh and walk our earth.  This is an incredible thought!  Look at who Paul says this is—the “image of God”, the creator of everything, the one who holds all things together.  This is who came to live among us as our friend.

The magi saw the sign of the star, and even though they were not Jews, they still sought out Jesus.  These were dignified astrologers, and yet when they discovered Jesus, this small, vulnerable child, they fell down and worshipped.  It’s quite the scene to picture!  One might imagine them coming to see Jesus and being less than impressed—I mean, he’s just a child, and born in a barn, to an unwed mother…  But instead, they clearly experienced something about Jesus that caused them to realize this is no ordinary child.  And he wasn’t—he was all of God’s fullness, made flesh and blood.  And for me, the fact that he did choose to be born in such humble conditions, rather than in a palace among the rich and powerful, causes me to worship him more, not less.  Jesus was, and is, pleased to dwell among the ordinary, the poor, the weak.

This kind of seeking, and then having an experience with Jesus, is often how Thais come to believe.  Most Thais worship a variety of gods and idols, and those who have begun worshipping Jesus often talk about how different an experience it is.  They talk about how they feel that God, rather than their idols, is alive, how they feel like Jesus is right beside them as a friend.  While Buddhist spirituality has some positive benefits in the lives of its followers, it lacks a love relationship with God.  In Jesus, they discover a living God pleased to dwell among them.

This first picture is of a typical Buddhist temple, and the second is at one of our combined worship services.  These are three believers from a slum community doing a traditional Thai dance in worship.

In the first slum community I lived in, I led a Bible study with some teenagers (in the picture above) who wanted to know more about Jesus.  Early on, they asked if we could learn about the birth of Jesus.  We talked about who his parents were, where he was born, who his first visitors were at the manger.  And I asked them, “if Jesus were born today in Bangkok, where do you think he would be born?”  And they answered, “here in one of our slums.”  His first visitors, rather than shepherds, would have been rice farmers like their own family members.  The magi would have been the city’s elite, but rather than coming in as experts or patrons, they would have knelt to the ground.

This was really an incredible story to them, because in their Buddhist society, the rich and powerful were seen as the “good” people, since they must be full of good karma.  But the poor were poor because of their bad karma, from this life or previous lives.  But here is Jesus being born among them, replacing shame and lies with hope and new identity.

Three of these girls became followers of Jesus, and though the fourth didn’t officially make that decision while I was there, she was so captured by Jesus that she read through the entire Bible and sought after him more than many Christians I know.

This incarnation, this “fullness of God” that is “pleased to dwell” among us, is why we ministered by living among the poor in Bangkok.  We want to bring God’s love and his healing into those communities, rather than just inviting people to come to church in another part of the city.  Church is his body of believers, anyway, rather than a building.  We tried to take on as much of their lifestyle as we could, honor them through learning from them, and break down some of the barriers that naturally exist between us.  Soon they stop seeing us as just “western” or “wealthy”, but as fellow human beings seeking similar things.

Below is a picture of my bedroom and also a view down one of the three lanes in my community.

These are more pictures from my house.  Here I’m making Thai food with my friend Yut, and the second is a picture of children singing from worship books on our front porch.

These are pictures from the first slum I lived in that has actually been evicted now.

We have church in homes right within the slum.  People feel the most comfortable dropping by to experience worship, and more likely to join in as we sing songs using their instruments, in the style that they most resonate with.  Buddhists are used to having to go to the temple in order to “make merit”, and many are thrilled that they can worship and pray wherever they are.

This is another picture of what worship looks like.  This was the church that started in my house in those last few months I was there.  In that community there were no believers when we moved in, but after a long investment in relationships and trying to show God’s love through our actions as well as words, 6 people became believers within 2 weeks.  So we started this weekly gathering for worship, studying the Word, praying together.

We always start with a Thai meal, sharing from communal bowls of hot curry or stir-frys, eating everything over lots of rice, of course.

We also try to follow Jesus’ example of caring for the whole person in all of their needs.  We work with people to identify what they feel are the most pressing issues in their communities, help them to develop as leaders and work together to find solutions, rather than always depending on outsiders.  In my community they were most concerned about the children, particularly that they weren’t being supervised well and had nowhere safe to play.  So these are a couple pictures of events they planned and led together that were both fun and educational, and really helped the kids feel loved by the adults in that community.  Events like this helped the adults have hope that they could work together to bring about change, and that they didn’t have to stay isolated or fatalistic.  This is one of the least visible but most destructive effects of poverty: it steals people’s dignity, the identity God gave them when he created them and said “it is very good”.  But when we help people to begin to dream, to plan, to act, then some of this damage falls away.  Eventually they plan bigger actions, try to get at the root of the issues they face in their slums.  They can then seek outside resources and help instead of just waiting for someone to offer it.  They are more empowered to partner with those who can bring lasting change instead of feeling at the whims of those in power.

Below is a picture of my good friend Yut, the very first believer in the second community I lived in.  I’d like to share her story to illustrate the second theme that stood out to me from today’s passage.

At epiphany we often think of the magi making their journey, and then about the three gifts they gave Jesus.  But the greatest gift in that story is Jesus himself.  In the passage in Colossians it says that through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. And that because of this, we are now holy and blameless and irreproachable.  This is an amazing gift—God is making all things new!  He is reconciling, healing, the things in this world that are broken, such as poverty.  He is reuniting us with himself, and with the identity he gave us when he created us.  Gifts that we give, that the magi gave, are in response to this greatest of gifts, rather than attempts to earn it.  They are simply signs that we are giving our worship, our loyalty, our hearts, to God, which is what he really wants.

This was very good news to the poor in Bangkok.  Buddhists in Thailand, most of them, believe their gods DO need their offerings.  They believe they must work their way to a better next life, they must appease the spirits so they will be blessed rather than cursed.  The poor often feel their poverty is a curse because of their bad karma, so they try to make more merit.  This is often done through monetary offerings, which they just don’t have.  So they feel stuck in their poverty, aware of their sin but unable to cleanse it on their own.  Many of them just accept poverty as their fate, and give up trying to make their lives or their communities better.

When my friend Yut began really seeking after Jesus, it was largely because her attempts to buy the favors of her gods had failed.  She told us, “I’ve been a good Buddhist my whole life.   I’ve made merit, gone to the temple, but none of it is working.”  Her family was on the brink of falling apart, she had lost a job and they were in serious debt.  She felt at the end of herself.  But when she heard that Jesus wanted to make his home in her, that he offers her grace and freedom from the law of karma, and that she doesn’t have to (and can’t) pay him back or earn it somehow, that was such good news.  Like the magi, her journey took her awhile.  After investing months into our friendship, many hours talking through her questions about Jesus, she was finally ready to commit her life to him.  On the day she made the decision, she said, “even if I don’t see God do amazing miracles in my life, just knowing that I’m his daughter, that I’m not alone—that is enough.”

This picture is of Yut receiving her first Bible.  We threw a party for her shortly after she committed her life to Jesus, and she was so thrilled to receive that Bible.  She practically grabbed it out of our hands.  The other woman in this picture, one of Yut’s friends, also became a believer that night because of Yut’s testimony.  As we met with them later, both of these women talked endlessly about how much peace they had received, how they were no longer afraid of spirits or death, how they would wake up at night feeling like Jesus was right next to them, inviting them to talk to him.  It was amazing.  Instead of an identity based on karma, they are now “holy and blameless and irreproachable”.  They are daughters of the King of kings, this fullness of God who dwells among them.  Instead of giving offerings to nameless, frightful gods, they are now worshipping a God of love.  One day as church was getting started, Yut turned to me and whispered, “do you know what I would do if Jesus were right here in this room?  I would throw my arms around him.”

This amazing gift of Jesus among us, come to reconcile all things and bring new hope, inspires people to give in return.  This is why the magi gave gifts—because the gift of Jesus is worthy of everything we have.  It is why Yut shared the Gospel so freely with others, leading this neighbor, her sister and her husband (just last month) to Christ.  It is why she gives away bags of rice to those needier than her in the community, why she has recently fought successfully to give up her gambling addiction and truly care for her children.  It’s why Thai believers we work with lead house churches as volunteers, help run a scholarship program for youth from the slums, help a community being evicted save together and relocate to a new plot of land.  When people receive this gift, this hope of Jesus’ reconciling work, they give their lives in response.  And the Kingdom in all its dimensions begins to take shape.

For me, after watching this epiphany take place in slum communities in Bangkok, I’m hooked.  I feel like it is such a privilege to be a part of this healing work Jesus is doing.  I’m going to continue to work with Servant Partners in their L.A. office, as well as move into a low-income community there and see how God would use me to reach out to my neighbors.

The original epiphany happened over 2,000 years ago, but Jesus continues to take on our flesh and blood to make himself known.  He is pleased to dwell among us, and pleased to use us as his hands and feet, to be his church inside this building and outside.  In this new year, may we experience this Christ within us in a new way, and offer this gift to others with greater boldness and love.  Amen.

Servant Partners: Change in Urban Poor Communities

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Servant Partners: Church Planting in Urban Poor Communities

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friends from the market I frequent, the day before I left for the States

I have at least a couple blog posts backlogged in my mind about things that happened in my last few months in Bangkok.  But first I thought I’d jot down some of the random things swirling around in the front of my mind as I transition back to life in America.

This time, unlike my visit half way through my term, the change feels less shocking.  I think memories of that first reverse culture shock have helped me to be less surprised.  But still, this is a big change.

I was often over-stimulated in Bangkok, being the crazy, noisy, city full of contradictions that never sleeps or slows down that it is.  But somehow I often feel over-stimulated here in small-town Oregon, too.  In stores, I can’t just scan over items anymore– every product and label is unfamiliar or at least something I haven’t looked at in years.  I forget what items are common and what aren’t (where are the long rows of soy sauce?  single-serving soy milk?  pepsi max?  nescafe packets?)  I don’t know what things are supposed to cost.  And there’s just things for sale now I’ve never heard of (enhanced water??).

Other times, I’m struck by the vacuum of sound.  The only time I was ever in a silent environment in Bangkok was on a relatively quiet night with my earplugs in.  This is something I longed for there, and don’t get me wrong– it’s nice.  But sometimes it can seem a little, I don’t know, creepy.

It’s also weird to live in such an isolated bubble from my neighbors.  The people I see or even who come to our house are connected to us in some way other than geographical, for the most part.  It’s strange to leave the neighborhood and come back without greeting people, having a couple little kids grab my hands and walk me home, buying some fried snack being sold by a neighbor along the way.  I miss that.  The independent side of me (and it is a well-developed side) likes the privacy and freedom of this lifestyle, but also feels the loss of that kind of community I’d lived in for five years.

I’m always cold.  Except when I’m in my bedroom with the space heater on high and many layers of clothes on.

I never have a sense of what time of day it is because it’s so dark all day long.  Ah, Oregon, I love your beautiful hillsides and colorful leaves, but you sure can be gloomy most of the time.

Everything is easier about life here.  Hard to believe I got so used to 20 minute walks to the bus stop every morning, breathing in black traffic fumes, sweating all but a couple hours of the day, dodging downpours, switching between languages, struggling to keep food fresh, setting out glue traps for rats, cooking (and eating) on the floor, doing laundry by hand and trying to get it dry in muggy weather…  I kind of like how that has made little things feel like luxuries now.  I feel so spoiled by our washer and dryer, for instance.

I love the abundance of cheese and good bread here.  I miss newly-harvested Thai jasmine rice.

The whole “going green” movement started while I was gone, so that’s new– but I like it.  I’m having to get introduced to pretty much all of the TV shows on.  The news on TV is so full of graphic effects that it’s kind of distracting and feels even more like entertainment than it used to.

I finally caved and bought a pair of those huge sunglasses that somehow became popular while I was gone.  I kind of didn’t believe people were really wearing them until I got here and yep, that’s all they’re selling now.

It’s weird to eat so many things out of cans or bags or boxes rather than bringing home fresh produce and meat from the nearby street market.

My parents got a new dog, my house has a whole new kitchen, the church I grew up in has a new fellowship hall, my hometown gained several thousand residents and several new stores and restaurants.  People I remember as kids are now teenagers or adults.  Coming home felt a little like time travel, or waking up after a really long sleep.

But ahhhhh…. it’s good to be back.  I feel like I can breathe again (literally and figuratively).  There’s space to rest and reflect, I can blend in if I want to, I don’t have to translate or wonder about my grammar, I get to enjoy people and simple pleasures I’ve been away from for so long.  At some point I will start longing for the home I left behind, but for now I’m just enjoying the return to this one.

I’ve been back in the States for over 3 weeks now.  In my last days in Bangkok my house was something I doubted I would miss: the heat, mosquitoes, holes in the walls from rats, sleeping on the floor, noisy neighbors, a recent discovery of a king cobra skin (which deserves its own blog post)…  And while I am thoroughly enjoying the comforts of a real bed, carpet, washer and dryer, I do miss the bright Thai sunshine through my windows, the sounds of children laughing, cooking Thai food with neighbors.  As I posted these pictures I was actually really thankful for my home in Phothong.

• Six new believers and a church planted in my slum!
• The challenges of discipling the urban poor
• Signs of fruit that will outlast my time here
• Details about my return to the US
• Prayer requests and pictures!

Below is a quote– I’d encourage you to read all of it.  I’m frequently challenged by many of the blogs over at conversantlife.com– worth a place in your feed reader!

I’m increasingly convinced that our ambitions related to making an impact are misguided, nothing more than a cloak to cover our own insecurities with God’s ‘blessing’.  Instead of an impact, our ambitions ought to be related to being an aroma, as Paul says, “TO God… AMONG men.”  Aromas are a byproduct that reveal the essence of something.  They don’t set out to BE aromas, they simply are:  Pine trees smell like pine; cigarette smoke like tabacco; coffee like heaven.  That’s the way it is.

I’m leaving in October.  In THREE months.  The last few weeks of that I’ll be completely useless, trying to say goodbyes, tie up loose ends, deciding how and what to pack up or leave behind from my life for the last five years.  And in the midst of this preparing for the end, God brings new life.  Two new believers in one week (maybe five, depending on how you define it) in this place I’ve labored in for so long.  And so little time to nurture them, to lead this house church, to enjoy this new season of harvest I’ve prayed for over the years.

With things happening so quickly, with everything feeling so DIFFERENT, it’s tempting to try to figuring it out using human logic.  If only I’d shared the Gospel in THAT way earlier… if only I’d taken Yut to visit that church a year ago… if only I’d told that story or prayed in that way…

There are definitely lessons to learn (I feel like my mind is bursting with all that I’ve been learning from this).  But really it comes down to the Spirit.  We really don’t know where it’s going to blow.  Or when.  I’ve been planting seeds into dark, mysterious earth, not knowing if they were germinating or just dead, not knowing if the soil was good, if God’s Spirit was blowing over this place and causing growth.  For so long it’s been about waiting… waiting… hoping… praying…

A lot has happened in terms of developing relationships, working with people to actively choose hope and change over fatalism and resignation.  I’ve seen parts of the Kingdom advancing here.  But despite continuing to share about Jesus, it just seemed like the words about his grace, love, invitation to relationship, were falling flat as soon as I’d speak them.  The only thing that kept hope alive for me was a couple of significant prayer times when I felt like God was clearly saying I was in the right place; that despite things looking bleak, despite talk of me maybe needing to move to another slum, that I would be able to stay.

And now this just seems to be his time.  It really does FEEL spiritually different in my slum right now.  I can’t explain it.

I don’t know why it’s taken this long.  I don’t know why my main role has been planting seeds—small, seemingly insignificant, full of a power that’s largely hidden and at times hard to hope in.  It’s a role that has required faith and patience, that until recently has forced me to find joy in something other than the fruit from my labors.  Harvesting is so much more fun!  But I’ll choose to trust God even when he’s mysterious.  After seeing how carefully and lovingly he’s worked in my two friend’s lives, I know he has his reasons, that are ultimately for my good and for the good of his work here.

I’ll just really need him to help me to get on that airplane on October 21^st…

Follow this link to watch the video, The Street Where They Live (video will start automatically).