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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• 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!

“If there’s no church in my village, can I start one in my house?”
That was Yut’s sister, Got, wondering about how to live as a Christian in her Buddhist community if she were to start following Jesus.

I had met Got once before, another time that she visited her sister in Bangkok. I had invited Yut to our combined church Christmas party in 2007, and Got joined us. I hadn’t gotten to ask her about her experience at the party, but it sounds like it made an impression. She started reading materials about Jesus and seriously considering following him.

Once Yut became a believer she started sharing with her family what was happening to her and who God is. When she found out her husband needed to make a trip to Bangkok at the end of July, she decided to come along– she wanted to learn more about Jesus, and to see Kevin and I again (who she remembered from the party).

The afternoon Got arrived, Kevin was leading a discipleship time in our house with the new believers, primarily about honoring God with our finances. Got came along. It became a significant time of sharing about the deep pain and anxiety these new believers are facing due to their deep debt. They confessed addiction, and recent failures. They prayed, and wept, and made new commitments. Got watched and listened.

Afterwards, Yut shared how Got has been really interested in Jesus, and may even want to start following him. That’s when she started asking about whether she can worship and pray from her house since there’s no church nearby. Will God hear her prayers? If her husband converts, could they be a church together? She seemed hungry, and excited. But there was some hesitancy and it wasn’t clear if she was ready right then to accept Jesus or not, and we didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything. Kevin asked if we could pray for her, and tomorrow we could talk again and she could say yes to Jesus then if she was ready.

She agreed, so we all laid hands on her and prayed. At the end, I caught a glimpse of her face and her eyes were wide, like she had experienced something powerful as we prayed.

She went back to Yut’s house, and spent the evening reading the Bible and talking more with Yut about her faith. The next day she ended up having to leave earlier than expected, so we weren’t able to meet again with her. But before she left, she told Yut that she really wished she had said yes the evening before. Is it okay? she asked. Will God know that I want to commit myself to him? Yut assured her he would. She encouraged her to pray, and later told me that she closed her eyes and said simply, “Dad, your child wants to receive you.”

Got didn’t have a Bible, so Yut decided to let her take hers, though she parted with it sadly since it was a nice version that really loved. But she felt like God was asking her to sacrifice for her sister. So now she’s using one of our cheaper ones until Got has the chance to come back and exchange with her.

Since then, Yut has been calling her sister regularly, making sure she’s praying and reading the Bible every day, teaching her what she’s been learning in our church and discipleship times here. Got has completely stopped going to the temple located adjacent to her house, stopped all idol worship, and though people have been looking down on her she’s stayed firm in her new beliefs.

Recently Yut shared with her, “Jesus is always with you. He’s right beside you when things are going well or when they’re hard, he’s with you every time you laugh or cry.”

“Really? Really?” Got asked, crying. “I’m so glad.”

We are hoping that some of us will have an opportunity to visit Got upcountry before I leave in October. Got is also praying that her husband will become a believer soon, and when we visit we’ll be able to baptize them both together. Pray for this! And that Got’s testimony and changed life will draw more people from that village into Jesus’ arms.

But up until a few days ago, I hadn’t heard any stories from people I knew about run-ins with the police.

Pai, the woman who was like a mother-figure for me when I lived in Permsup, told me her story on Friday evening.  The day before, like every other day, a group of about 10 or so were hanging out on the plywood platform they’d constructed below a prominant, shady tree in front of the slum.  Some of the kids had been playing Bingo, for a little bit of money– the quivalent of about a quarter each.

Pai had gone into the community briefly and as she came back out a black police truck was speeding up to their tree.  It screeched to a halt, and police came out, yelling for everyone to get into the back of the truck.  They even threatened a couple of kids, one of the little girls shaking from fright.  They had spotted the money the kids had left out from playing Bingo, and concluded the group had been gambling, which is illegal in Thailand.

Despite protests, eight adults and teenagers were herded into the truck, usually used for dangerous criminals.  Those arrested included Yay Kaew, an elderly member of the house church there with health problems, Pai and her daughter Pat.  Pai told me she kept asking the police “why do you let the drug dealers in this community go free, and arrest us for Bingo?  It’s just Bingo!”  She also scolded them for scaring the children.

They were taken to the local jail.  Pat said the ride was so frightening that the police at the jail asked if she was sick, her face was so ashen.

They were each forced to pay a 5,000 baht bail, plus 1,000 as a booking fee.  None of them had that kind of cash on hand.  Finally they were able to contact two women in the community who run a store and food stall, and had a bit more money available.  Pai had some sort of insurance that could reimburse her for the 5,000, but the 1,000 baht was gone for good.  To put that in perspective, Pai works 3/4 time cleaning our office, for 3,400 baht per month.  After paying the exploitative electricity bill that same day (slum dwellers often pay more than those in formal housing), and then the 2,000 baht fee for herself and her daughter, she now has no money for the rest of the month.  Her husband is working upcountry and it will be awhile before they see any of his earnings.

They didn’t get to go home until 10 p.m.

Hearing this story just made my blood boil.  Having committed no crime, my friends just lost a huge portion of their hard-earned income.  They have no recourse for this kind of injustice.  And the police have all kinds of incentive to repeat this kind of thing all over the city– no doubt a big chunk of that 1,000 baht fee goes straight into their pockets.  At the same time, the real criminals who are selling drugs to the youth and shedding blood, are protected with a bribe.

That evening, Pai and I rode with others in the back of one of my neighbor’s pick up trucks, returning to our communities from a special combined worship service.  I told her that our church has a mercy fund created by a portion of the offerings, and that the leaders would certainly consider helping her with her expenses this  month.  I was humbled as she said,  “I just praise God because he is always providing for me”, describing how she felt so fortunate that she still had just over 2,000 baht left of her salary at the time of the arrest.  But as she again recounted the details of the story, she was visibly pained at the helplessness she’d felt, at the injustice.

I told her that Jesus says those who are least in this world will be greatest in the kingdom of heaven, and that those who are great in this world will be the least.  I have frequently felt these words echo in my heart as I see the faith of my neighbors and friends here.  I told her that God, too, is angry when these things happen, and that he is especially close to people who suffer injustice.  She wept, and seemed to take some comfort in these words.

I pray she’d come to know the Lord more and more as a “refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble”, one who “does not ignore the cry of the afflicted” (Psalm 9).  Praise God that one day he will set right everything that has gone wrong in his creation.

The conversions of Yut and June were beautiful.  They made me feel like I was at a wedding, or witnessing a birth.  Both wept, and later said they didn’t know where the tears had come from.  As we laid hands on them to pray, both felt a presence bigger than themselves.  They both immediately said they felt “sabai jai” literally, “my heart is at ease.”

Yut received Jesus first, and six days later her story and her visible joy compelled her friend and neighbor, June, to also receive God’s grace.

Though they both came to God carrying with them struggles and needs and desperation for him to intervene in their lives, and he has tangibly answered some of those prayers, that actually hasn’t been what they’ve been talking the most about now.

“I wake up at night and just want to pray- I feel like someone is beside me inviting me to talk with him.”

“Even if I never see God’s miracles in my life, just knowing that I’m his child, that I haven’t been abandoned- that is enough.

“All day long I’m worshipping God.  I just keep saying in my heart, ‘Amen.  Amen.”

To women who are told in one way or another that they are inferior, here is the King of creation at their side, calling them their friend.  To women who have believed that their bad karma has made them poor, that they had to buy or work their way out of it, who believed curses spoken over them by seers, here is their Father washing all of that away, calling them his daughters.  To women who have been mistreated by their husbands, here is a pure love that won’t leave them or hurt them.

It is only the Holy Spirit that can do this kind of work, that can cause hearts so damaged and defensive truly believe these things.  Yut and June still know very little about the Gospel.  But they’ve touched this love, and I’ve been humbled by the faith and the joy it has produced.  I’ve already seen them be convicted of sin, lay things down they were carrying.  This is a God they want to submit to, because he has been so good to them.

Scripture has been really alive to me lately, because I have been seeing God’s promises and character expressed there, right in front of my face.  And I’ve been watching his new daughters discover these things about him for the first time.  These are a couple passages that I love right now:

“He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap; He seats them with princes, with the princes of his people. He settles the childless woman in her home as a happy mother of children.  Praise the Lord.” Psalm 113:7-9

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” 1 Peter 2:9

Below is a picture of Yut after she received her first Bible.  June, on the right, became a believer later that evening.  Tell me that this doesnt look like a woman who knows she’s loved by her King.

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

• Women in my slum put together a drug-awareness event for the kids as a result of house meetings
• New opportunities opening to develop youth in Phothong to be leaders
• My Buddhist neighbor Yut and I will begin studying Scripture together soon
• My new role and budget for when I move back to the States in October

One clear memory I have of the first one I tackled is of the last hill into Portland.  By that point I was over 190 miles down, with only a few to go.  My whole body hurt.  It must have been around 20 hours in the saddle over the past two days by then.  Not to mention I had a bad knee.  Not to mention I was riding with a couple guys who hadn’t trained so we were drafting with me in front, fighting the wind resistance.

I could see the skyline.  It was torturous that the mostly-flat route would turn on us at this point.  I suddenly felt like my legs were made of lead.  I had to stop.  It was stupid, I knew.  Nobody stops in the middle of an incline, and especially not when you’re only 15 minutes from the finish line!  All the bikers around me were catching a second wind, their adrenaline propelling them up that hill.  But I had to stop and take big gulps of air.  The guys I was with groaned.

I know there had to be something happening psychologically in that moment.  I mean, my quads had stayed strong for 190 miles, what was 10 more?  What about that moment of seeing the skyline would make my muscles turn to mush?  No, I think it was something happening in my mind.  Because I’ve seen it happen in other situations, too, when the end is in sight.

I’m working on a paper in college, pulling an all-nighter, and my eyes start closing right as I get to my conclusion paragraph.

I’m giving a teaching in Thai, and my motivation sinks to the floor right as we get to the last key point.

I’m cleaning my house, and though I know I should scrub the bathrooms along with the other floors, I just call it a day after mopping and leave the bathrooms for later.

And now, I’m 6 months away from moving back to the States, and I’ve never felt so tired in my 5 years here.

My proverbial muscles have turned to mush.  The end is in sight; there isn’t a literal skyline on the horizon, but a new job description I’m working out, a new budget I’m calculating, plane tickets I’m looking into are all constant reminders of how close I am to the end.  And instead of feeling energized to pedal hard across that finish line, I’m idling and gulping air.

Practically, my life and ministry are much as they have been, if not busier.  But internally, I’m much more fatigued by each activity.  It’s hard to think ahead or plan much.  I’m sleeping a LOT.

In some ways, this is very different from the STP.  First of all, a huge part of doing the STP is to just see if you’ll make it over that finish line.  Each mile pedaled is for the purpose of getting to Portland (especially for a “J” on the Myers-Briggs like me).  But becoming a missionary is definitely not like that.  The desire is to see God work throughout the journey, and living faithfully is the challenge– which is renewed each day, each moment.  There is an end to my time here, but the fruit and the reward come each day as I walk with God, not once I leave the field and can say that I made it to the end.  That’s nothing to scoff at, but it’s really not the point.

Secondly, 6 months is a lot different than 10 miles.  Taken out of the context of a 5-year commitment, 6 months is a significant amount of time to commit to something.  Being responsive to God in a slum community where I’ve planted roots and sown seed could bring about some really beautiful fruit between now and October.

I think what I need, from God, is help in living in the moment.  Living in the moment, and also in anticipation of what could be– next week, tomorrow, this afternoon.  It’s when I look back that I see how long I’ve been here and how quickly 6 months has gone by in the past and how tired I am and how much I’ve lived through here.  It’s when I look back that I realize how many miles I’ve pedaled and just how sore my legs are.  The hope of what God could do right now fails to move me; the exhilaration of pedaling up that hill and into Portland isn’t enough to keep me in the saddle.  I feel that I HAVE to rest NOW.

But God has carried me this long, I know he will carry me to the end.  Would I live out that belief each of my remaining days here, for his kingdom.

It was so great to see her and her little daughter Pahjai.  I first started to sit and talk with Yut while she was pregnant with Pahjai, saw her when she was first born and so precious, and now she’s walking and can say a few words already.  I’ve really missed them both.

I never heard the story of why she and her husband took off with their daughter, leaving their 6-year-old son with her elderly parents.  I asked the little boy, Keem, one day where his mom was.  He said very formally and somberly “she’s moved back upcountry.”  I could see the sadness and confusion on his face.

I thought it might have something to do with drugs, or debt, or crime of some sort.  Her husband deals drugs, drinks habitually, and has put the family deep into debt with his gambling addiction.  Yut frequently confided in me about the desperation she felt, what she longed to give her children but couldn’t, her deep questions about the evil people are capable of.  We talked about spiritual things, I told her I’d be praying.

Things went from bad to worse.  She, her husband and Pahjai left Bangkok in fear of her husband’s debtors who began to threaten violence.  After a month, though, they moved to the Bangkapi district, near our team’s office.  They told no one, though, including me, to keep their whereabouts a secret.  Yut started selling in a nearby market to earn a little bit of income (her husband refuses to look for a job), and now they’ve finally worked out a repayment arrangement with their debtors.

They’ll be moving back into Phothong at the beginning of February.  Yut said that once she found out how sad her son was that she had left, she couldn’t stand it, and knew she needed to move back.

But now she’s seriously considering leaving her husband.  It’s been 10 years, she said, that he’s been drinking and gambling them into so much debt.  She’s giving him another chance, he has said he wants to change, but even yesterday when I sat with her I watched him drink until his eyes turned red.

She’s also been given an offer to date and maybe marry a foreigner.  She has several friends upcountry who have married Westerners, and a few friends of one of these men are visiting soon and are interested in meeting her.   All she can see is how much better her friends’ husbands treat their wives and children, how much more responsible they are than her husband.  It’s easy for her to assume that all Westerners are that way.  “Some people want to marry a white man to get rich,” she said, “but for me it’s not that.  I just want someone who won’t destroy our family, who can provide a future for my children.”

It’s at these moments that I feel so inadequate, so lacking in wisdom, so unable to fix things.  I can understand the temptation, the frustration, the choice between staying in a destructive relationship that will likely never change, and getting out and pursuing this possibly better life.

I tell her I’ve seen God change families, I’ve seen him help people out of addictions, that I’ll be praying.  She nods, but it doesn’t seem to spark much hope.  I wish I had more I could say.  But there are no easy answers.  Thankfully, I don’t think that’s what she’s looking for from me anyway.  It can be my temptation to be my neighbors’ savior– to have the solution, some pearl of wisdom or inspirational words or strategy that will make things right.  But at times I’m grateful for my limitations.  If either I or my friends here thought I was the one who saved them, then I would be stealing God’s praise away from him.  I’m praying that God will use my presence, my prayers, but that ultimately he will act, that he will show himself strong and merciful, that Yut will see his hand of healing touching their family.