Missions

I saw a young family on the stage of my church. We prayed for them and their work in Missions. People applauded. “Awe, so cute,” the women around me smiled as they looked at the two beautiful daughters on stage. A crowd of 2,000 clapped, smiled, thought of them. The Pastor explained their work. It was an honor to be up there, appreciated, for sure! Perhaps it showed their lives to be a little glamorous, a little adventurous . . . maybe it was even a little guilt-producing or inspiring as we thought about what WE were giving in our own lives. But it was nice. Yes, nice.

Well . . . I don’t really know what anyone was thinking, or if they would think about it much more than the two minutes the young family stood on the stage. But whatever my eyes showed, or however politely I clapped, I knew I felt more than just a little bit amused, or encouraged. It was too reverent of a moment to cry . . . tears could not express my emotion . . . I held my face still, foggy memories becoming clear. I wondered if anyone knew what I knew of this young family . . .

I met that couple my freshman year in college. The girl and I fast became friends. Our personalities were different . . . me thoughtful . . . her as bubbly of a girl you ever met. But we both loved the Lord, felt a call towards Missions, and loved being with people. Our last year in college, we had each been praying, unknown to each other, about taking a particular trip to Thailand, and then decided to share it with the other on the very same day, a day we met for accountability. The chances of us both praying about the same trip were . . . unlikely. It didn’t necessarily confirm that it was meant to be, but with my excitement and all of the logistics working out, I knew we were to go!

Another girl joined us, and our team of three went for a month in the summer. My friend’s boyfriend, travelling around the area at the time, came to welcome us when we first arrived in Thailand. He took us to restaurants and taught me my first Thai words. I practiced them as I volunteered at the school and as we made our way around the crowded city every afternoon and evening. Both of their hearts for Southeast Asia were contagious. I saw His love for the people in their lives, hearts, words, and even their eyes as they talked!

I cannot explain my feelings or thoughts towards Thailand . . . as much as I journal, I have never been able to really put them to words. Perhaps words can never express them. But there was a tug, almost an aching pull, in my heart, which, I didn’t know at the time, I would never be able to lose. My three friends left, as was planned, at the end of the month. But . . . I decided to stay, unplanned, for another month. Another year . . . another 3 years . . .

I came back for a couple months to be in their wedding. I cried when I watched her walk down. When I saw the hearts of two people I respected and loved so much come together, to make a commitment of forever to each other.

However, during my two months back home, I encountered reverse culture-shock, a feeling of being out of place back in the States. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but it felt lonely. They invited me over to their new home, cooked a Thai dinner for me, and we sat around a mat on their floor, Thai-style! We talked about our hearts again for the people, mixing in Thai with our English! They asked about my feelings with being back in America, and explained reverse-culture shock to me-- the concept of returning to a familiar place, but feeling so different. I felt for the first time of coming back to the States that I could be real with someone. I had so many things to say, to share with everyone, but many people did not know the questions to ask me. I started to close in, to feel so alone. With so much compassion, my friend’s husband explained that people only know what they’ve been experienced to, and it is not something they can be judged for. His compassion for people in general inspired me, and I too felt grace towards those who didn’t have the same burning desire for, or knowledge about, seeing the world evangelized . . . but I was so glad to talk with two people who did!

They raised their support, sure now that they were called to full-time work overseas, and moved to Southeast Asia my last year in Thailand.

They came to visit me in the small town I lived in. I heard again their heart for the people, the stories of what they were doing. While they were with me, we went into the city for my friend to get a sonogram of her first little baby on the way! I knew the city well, and led the way on our motorcycles down side streets. Road laws in Thailand are not always, or even often, followed, and as I had done for the past year, we went the wrong direction on a one-way only street. A motorcycle cop waved me down. I knew more Thai than those two, at the time, and explained our “mishap” . . . we rode away without a ticket . . . um, not my proudest moment . . . but I did enjoy the smiles of my friends behind me at my finesse in Thai ways.

I hated to see them leave, as I felt so lonely in that town by myself. But I knew we each had work we were called to. Hugs were brief . . . till next time . . . till we see each other next time . . . I kept telling myself. Goodbye was just too hard.

I finished my year . . . they’ve been there for four years . . . but have recently just come back for a sabbatical. I had dinner the other night at the home they are living in . . . met their second daughter for the first time. We started with superficialities, laughing, what’s new with me, what I’ve been up to, what their plans for the ministry are, cute things the kids do . . . I was almost afraid to let it go deep . . . but I did. “Are you lonely,” I asked her. She looked at me. Sometimes it’s hard to go deep . . .

We got to talk a little bit that night, but knew we still had much more to talk about. Knowing that they are here for this time, I feel so glad . . . and I wonder . . . what things might my heart be stirred to . . . again . . .