jumping for joy.

With a few skipped weeks around Christmas and with guests in town, we are getting back into a groove with our weekly fasts and celebrations.

I love it. I love that it’s a weekly, conscious effort to celebrate three things.

Most obviously, we celebrate the good things in our lives that particular week. Imagine a Thanksgiving-style share-what-you’re-thankful-for, but every week. But also, its a chance to celebrate that the story of Christ, the story of our redemption, and the story of hope coming into the world (Advent, if you will) is enough to celebrate for the rest of our lives; so we look back to celebrate what has come. And then last, the truth that Christ is returning, that this isn’t the end, and that a new kingdom is on the horizon–we look forward to that with anticipation; we celebrate what will come. (And what is anticipation except for a little pre-celebration?)

It’s been interesting to make it a celebration, particularly for two self-proclaimed dull folks. Our “parties” usually involve something of our favorite food, but otherwise tend to run late, are a bit scattered, are often interrupted, and sometimes involves books 🙄

But alas, we’re making an effort to celebrate, attempting to make it epic, attempting to make it joyful.

And this week, as we sat outside grilling salmon and veggies, I thought about what our neighbors celebrate.

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The first week of December, we wanted to host a Christmas Bingo. We had been collecting donated items from friends for quite awhile, and the neighbors just love it. It is, in truth, a collection of our expat friend’s and our trash. While we try not to make it truly worthless, I’ll admit that our last Bingo night did include stacks of paperplates and plastic spoons; Tupperwares missing lids. Things I am so tempted to throw away, but that they do love, they do look forward to. They ask regularly for us to play.

They comment often about how much they love the used clothes from the States that are such better quality. They love the hand-me-down toys, dishes, pans; socks, shoes. The plastic bins, drawers, and baskets are always a popular item. I saw a teenage boy wearing neon pink New Balances today, which he had won a few months back, had carefully washed yesterday and set out our gate in the sun to dry. They are still treasured shoes, months later.

That week, I had told everyone we’d be playing Bingo at some point in the week, and the ladies that work in our house were particularly curious. The bread ladies kept asking when, and it just became a big joke:

When are we playing Bingo?!
We want to play! Let’s play Saturday.
When are we going to play?
She doesn’t know yet; stop asking.

Oh, I know. I’m just not telling you!

Anyway, we went round and round all week. Then, as the bread ladies left on Friday afternoon, I asked nonchalantly, “Are you free Sunday?”

“Sure. What do you need help with?”

“I was just going to play Bingo if you wanted to come…”

They leapt, guys. All three ladies screamed. The two younger women–moms, 20 and 23, started jumping up and down and screaming with excitement.

They were celebrating more used clothing, more Tupperwares, and more mismatched dishes.

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This week, I bought apples for The Breakfast Club. On Friday, due to a kitchen full of bread and bakers, we give fruit and soymilk. This week I found a huge box of apples in the market, 80 apples for 550 baht, or about $16. That’s more than we usually spend on fruit–I can usually get 10 kilos of watermelon for about $3, or 10 kilos of oranges for about $6. But sometimes we splurge for apples because the kids love them.

Mwei Mwei, who is fifteen and sews at our house; has been to Bangkok and worked there. She’s in one of the “wealthier” families in our community, if you will. She’s perhaps been around more blocks than I’d wish for her.

She saw the box of apples, and her face lit up–are we having apples for breakfast tomorrow?

Or the little boys in the street, who asked what was for breakfast tomorrow, when I told them apples and soy milk–they leapt. They actually shouted and jumped and cheered. For apples and milk.

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So while I thoroughly enjoyed my salmon and grilled veggies; I gave thanks for the things we can do to celebrate–whether that is weekly or for our anniversary. We are so privileged to have celebrations in our life.

I also gave thanks for my neighbors who teach me, day after day. I love that they open my eyes to a new perspective, a new joy, and new ways to celebrate.

I want my kids to jump for joy when they get an apple, too. And if they can pull that off at fifteen, I’ll be impressed. I want to celebrate a crisp apple myself, too.

I want to be thankful when I friend shares a bag of hand-me-down clothes or offers an used book from her collection. Or when the neighbors share a dish of noodles.

I want to celebrate every week with abandon, but I also want to celebrate the little gifts of every day.