chunky soup & other words of wisdom.

We’ve been given a number of wise words throughout a number of meetings over a number of cups of coffee. One piece of wisdom came from a pastor & mentor who was asking about the questions & the tensions we are facing. He mentioned the tension that generally exists from living overseas and between cultures. He said sometimes he found that it was like a chunky soup–sometimes we want it smoother, we want it all blended together; and really we have to leave them to coexist as chunky soup.

Meanwhile, Stephen and I have been reading in Ecclesiastes. In chapter 7:1-4 we read,

“A good name is better than fine perfume,
and the day of death better than the day of birth.
It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart.
Frustration is better than laughter,
because a sad face is good for the heart.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.”

This gave me a sense of rest, that it was okay to hurt and it was okay to mourn. It was okay to think of death as a gift and something to be thankful for.

But then we were sitting in church on Sunday and listening about joy. I don’t remember the passages specifically, but it was about us being heirs of Christ and this being something to be joyful for–if we aren’t joyful, we are missing something.

This was a bit discouraging. Joy has been more of struggle. Sometimes the house of mourning seems easier to find.

Obviously I think far more than necessary, so these were all rumbling around in my head together. And it is starting to make sense to me, this idea of chunky soup holding ideas that seem incongruent and irreconcilable. How do we dwell in the house of the mourning and walk in joy?

For me, it’s beef stew. It’s the carrots next to the beef chunks, not mixing well together but coexisting. {I realize every metaphor breaks down at some point, but bear with me.} In my head, the mourning is the beef. It is tough; you have to gnaw on it. It just takes a little longer. And maybe, it gives the flavor. It gives the depth and meaning to the carrots & potatoes, which are just the little pieces of joy for me.

And they coexist. They make a messy, chunky soup.

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In yet another conversation over another cup of coffee, I was given this to mull over:
Goals are things we can work toward.
Desires are things we can pray toward.

Today at church we looked at Jesus’ prayer in John 17. In verse 3, he prays, “And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”

The pastor explained that the word “know” used here is the same as when “Adam knew Eve his wife” in Genesis 4, and throughout the Bible when referring to the sexual union of a husband and wife. It is also the same used in Matthew 7:21-23, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.'”

Jesus prayer for us & the definition of eternal life is that we know the only true God.

Sometimes, I question if I truly know Him. Obviously some of us who think we know him do not–we know the way is narrow. Some of us see ourselves as sheep, but will find ourselves among the goats. Some of us will “do many mighty works” in His name and still not know Him.

So I’ve grown up in the church, I’m seeking Him however I know how. I’m finding Him more and more each day. But do I know Him?

And that brings me to the bigger question for me: How do we possibly share the love of Christ with our community in a way that they actually know the only true God? How do possibly communicate truth when we struggle so much to even communicate?

I want them to know Him–in the way I am learning to know him and even more, in the way that is uninhibited, in the way that is eternal life. But ultimately this is a desire. I can set some goals–we can study language day after day, we can try to love the person in front of us well–but ultimately, we can pray. We can pray toward knowing Him and making Him known.

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I’ll state the obvious: this is coming out of another conversation, more words of wisdom, and even more coffee. You’d think we had jet lag or something.

We were just sharing our story of getting here to the States. We were sharing about the day the military came to our community, about losing our friends in a car accident, about moving our neighbors into new houses, and about cooking community meals with our friends. And Stephen brought up something we discovered amidst the chaos of those couple weeks–a little story of hope we had forgotten to share.

There is a man in our community, maybe around our parents’ age. He lives with his wife and they recently took on the responsibility of their grandson when their daughter moved to Bangkok to find work over a year ago. Another daughter, her husband, and another grandson about the same age live in a different house in the community. And still another son & his wife are in a different house.

This man, the father & grandfather, is named Jor Gee. A little over a year ago he wasn’t feeling well, but had some odd symptoms I couldn’t really place. I had a nurse friend come out to see him, and she discovered that his liver was very enlarged. We got him to the hospital, he was diagnosed with cirrhosis, and he was given some medication to sort it out temporarily. But he needed to stop drinking.

Not cut back, but absolutely quit cold turkey.

We told him this in no uncertain terms and in a few different languages through a few different translators. We scared him enough that we were asked daily for the next week or two if he could have coffee, if he could drink water, and if he could chew betel nut.

But he did it. He quit, and he improved quickly.

And it wasn’t until we were moving his house–and his daughters and sons–that we realized just how much he had improved. He is in really good health–physically, yes. He is alive, which is a miracle in some senses. But also as a father and grandfather, he is amazing. He is involved! He is loving. We watch him take his grandsons around the neighborhood on his bicycle day after day; we watch him bicycle to work and faithfully care for them all.

And in the midst of a really difficult time, we watched him provide for his family. We watched him work alongside his son. We watched his grandsons run up to him with joy.

It was just a little glimpse into the restoration that has come here and the redemption we are praying for in eternity.