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.

It occurred to me this morning that right now I am in the first extended period of not being in some kind of outreach-based ministry since my freshman year in college.

I led Bible studies or evangelistic outreaches or short-term missions trips for 3 out of my 4 years in college.  I discipled people, I shared the Gospel, and somewhere tried to fit in classes and homework and tests.  Then I spent a year interning with InterVarsity, immediately after which I left for Bangkok for 5 years.  Where I not only helped plant a church and train leaders and disciple new believers, but did it all while sharing my space with rats and mosquitos and the sounds of all sorts of chaos of my slum.

And I wonder why I’m tired?

I wouldn’t trade a minute of my last 10 years.  And I hope that sometime soon God will lead me back into direct ministry, will again give me people to whom I can be his hands and to whom my voice can speak his words of love.  If it were strictly up to me, I’d have that now.  I’d choose to be full of energy; having had a couple months of rest I’d come down to L.A. and hit the ground running again, rather than feel the way I do now, like I’m moving through molasses.

So since I don’t have a choice in the matter, I’m resting a minute.  I’m taking a deep breath.  And after so many years of finding my significance in the people who became believers, or numbers in my Bible study, I’m now remembering that I was significant to God before I could take my first step.  And I’m significant now, though I feel once again like a child who needs to be carried and cared for.

I’m still playing a key role in Servant Partners, though it is much more behind-the-scenes, much less emotionally exhausting.  I have time to sleep and to read and to process things I had no energy to deal with while in Bangkok.  I can see God’s hand, now, in preparing a room for me out in a nearby middle-class suburb, though I’d hoped to live among the poor in the ghetto.  It hadn’t made sense at the time, but now I see God knew what he was doing (imagine that).

Jesus says the call is to lay down your life, to lose it in order to find it in him.  I think this is what I’m learning– that sometimes this life-surrender looks like sharing in the suffering of the least of these, of following Jesus to the margins and the marginalized.  But sometimes it looks like laying down ungodly ambition, as righteous as it may appear, to allow God to bring his Kingdom more fully into one’s own weary heart and soul.

It’s Mary kneeling at Jesus’ feet when so much could be done in the kitchen.  It’s the expensive perfume poured out on his feet, which could have been sold and given to the poor.  It’s my feet, bare and dirty, being washed by Jesus’ holy hands.

So coming back to the States and being able to just rest, to enjoy people and nature, was beautiful.  It was also such a good time of reflecting on what God was doing in those last 5 years.  There is something about telling the story to others that shines light on God’s movement more brightly for myself.

So here are some pictures to illustrate a bit what this gift was like for me.  You can click on each photo for a brief description.

I was on the city of Pomona website this evening, looking for pictures I might be able to use in my presentation tomorrow, to illustrate the place that will soon be my home.  I visited the “New Resident Information” page, which is mainly some helpful essential info like how to set up a phone line and locate your local public school.  Then down at the bottom is a list of “frequently called numbers”.  Here it is.  I’m not making this up.

Abandoned shopping cart reporting
Grafitti removal
Illegal dumping reporting
Landlord/tenant disputes
Weed abatement – vacant lots
Fire prevention and complaints
Roaches, rats and vermin
Sewer main back-up
Sanitation special pick-up
Street/alley potholes

Not exactly the best advertisement for your city, Pomona.  But I guess it’s a tactful way of showing me what I’m getting myself into.  Well, I’ve had “roaches, rats and vermin” in my house and sometimes my bed, slum children writing on my walls with whatever they could get their hands on, mounds of garbage floating on the swamp under my house, for five years.  So here I come.  You don’t scare me.

photo credit: prakhar

“Don’t listen to him, this is your decision.  Do what YOU want to do.  If he really loved you he’d love you enough to let you follow your own heart.”

“(enter name of product here)- for whenever the urge strikes.”

“It’s up to you, you have to choose your own path in life.  I will support whatever decision you make.”

“Go ahead, pamper yourself– you deserve it.”

These aren’t direct quotes from anything, but doesn’t it sound familiar?  I keep hearing things like this on TV dramas, commercials, daily conversation, and they seem to go unquestioned.  The values of being true to yourself and independent have some positive elements.  But there seems to be a widely-held ideal that we are only responsible to ourselves, we should listen to and obey every urge or desire we feel, and we should not pay too much attention to requests or desires of others or we may lose ourselves, not be “true to our hearts.”

Obviously, I’m exaggerating and generalizing some.  But not a whole lot.

On the other end of the spectrum is Thailand.  (No, literally– I saw a spectrum recently that put America and Thailand on opposite ends of the individualism/collectivism spectrum).  I think that if Thais were to make a list and rank who they believed they are responsible for and to, they would put themselves quite a ways down the list.  Family would be number one, followed by the king (though those two might be switched).  Friends, neighbors, patrons would make the list.  They would likely mention their ancestors, their country and culture, Buddha and the idols they worship.

photo credit: munir

In making decisions, it is rare to hear a Thai talk about what they want to do or their “gut instinct”.  Instead they try to balance the effect of the decision on important people in their lives.  There is a word in Thai that we don’t have in English except as a phrase: “grengjai”, or “to be afraid of imposing on someone.”  I think it’s one of the most commonly-used words in their language:

“I wanted to, but I was grengjai”

“No, please, you don’t have to be grengjai.”

“How rude– he wasn’t grengjai at all.”

At first glance this can seem much more gracious, much less selfish than the extreme our culture often goes.  But in the extreme, this aspect of collectivism can be pretty ugly, too.  People really can lose themselves and their boundaries.  Relationships stay surface-level because people don’t want to do the uncomfortable work of conflict and reconciliation.  Bitterness grows as people constantly stuff down what they want for what they feel they “should” do.  Unhealthy compromises are made and abuses suffered.  One person is treated unfairly in favor of another of higher status or closer connection.

Having now lived and adapted to both cultures, I find myself trying to reconcile these extremes.  What in each of these worldviews needs to be redeemed?  What is from God?

So what I’ve come up with is that the most important thing is that we are responsible to God, first and foremost.  Otherwise I become my own god, or people around me become gods.

Jesus does teach us to lay down our lives for others, which is something we Americans could learn a bit about from Thais.  But if this is not as a submitted act of worship to him, it becomes idolatry or moralistic duty.

God also tells us that if we are believers we have the Spirit inside us to guide us, and that sometimes, in obedience to him, we have to do things that are offensive to others.  This comes more naturally to us in the West than those in the East.  But without submission to that Spirit within us, we follow our own broken, diseased, selfish hearts and become our own gods, justifying the destruction we leave in our wake.

It seems to me that from Scripture, the correct hierarchy of responsibility should be first to God, then to others, and finally to ourselves.  After all, we are supposed to think of others as greater than ourselves.  But sometimes we must be like Mary, sitting at Jesus’ feet rather than helping her sister with the meal preparation, or like Paul, confronting those in authority.  How we relate to others and to our own desires must be submitted to God.

This challenges me to be more in prayer.  Because the Thai side of me pulls me in one direction (defer to others, don’t assert yourself too much, figure out what will keep the peace) and the American side pulls me the other (listen to yourself, ignore what others think, go your own way).  But when I’m most connected to God I sense that he is guiding me, and I can be counter-cultural, responsible to him, governed by love.  And he is a much better guide than myself or my perception of those around me.

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.

• 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!

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…

• 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