“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

This verse has become very real to me recently.

The word seasons hits me first, as we are currently missing out on the cool winds, warm colors, bright leaves, and chilly rains of autumn.  It’s all wonderful, from the pumpkins and soups and scarves. And cardis!  And this only followed by the beauty of winter, when everything turns so gray and cozy. The knitting, jackets, warm fires.

We need none of that here.

I keep hearing good reports of the cool season coming our way, but needing a sweater at night just isn’t the same as needing two shirts, a cardigan, a coat, and scarf to walk out the door. It also isn’t the same when I’m still wearing a tank top while I cook dinner in the most humid kitchen you could fathom in your head.

But I guess seasons go far beyond that. We are also in a season of rest.

With Chris & Jenn here, we’ve been enjoying some time off. It’s been a wonderful blessing to pull back from it all and reconsider. Stephen and I have been slowly working our way through The Rest of God by Mark Buchanan for the past few months, where he discusses Sabbath rest. It has really challenged me to actually rest and find pleasure in new ways. I’ve found myself seeking out rest–and ultimately beauty and thankfulness–in unexpected places.

In this, I began to see this next phase of our lives as a little bit of a Sabbatical. This might be a little generous, as we’re going to be working once Chris & Jenn leave, and we’ll be traveling to about six locations along the border before journeying to the other side of the globe for the holidays. Maybe not obviously restful. But all the same, we have a chance to re-experience Thailand with family; to take a break from teams and see Partners from a new perspective; to reunite with family.

Its a new perspective, pushing us to look toward thankfulness.

We’re also learning that seasons change, and we’re having to just roll with the punches. This has been true in every way. We never thought we’d be going home at Christmas after just eleven months here. We never thought we’d be mourning with family, as we deal with health problems around the world.

At risk of adding to Scripture, it’s beginning to mean to me that there is a time to save and a time to spend; there is a time to work hard and a time to contemplate rest; there is a time to Skype and a time to fly home; there is a time to eat rice and a time to savor a sandwich.

(And yes, I did just choose sandwich there. I miss good sandwiches.)

“A time to mourn, and a time to dance” has become more real to me with each day. The mourning has sunk deeper, and the dancing has risen up with an appreciated grace.

But I suppose, as I read over these, many are striking me closer than they ever have before. And I suppose it’s the season I’m in.

We’re cherishing the fun of having Chris & Jenn in town with us, and it has been a wonderful few days already–full of unexpected adventures!  With time we’ll share more and post photos.

But as we are so thankful to have some family close, today we can also feel the weight of some family being so far away. Stephen’s mom is going into surgery today, and we are painfully aware of the ocean between us. We ache to be there with his family.

So I guess we simply ask that you’d be praying for his mom today, as well as for his dad, sisters, and us as we all stretch across the world’s largest waiting room.

We’re about to load a bus and head off to Bangkok to meet Jenn & Chris at the airport!

And thus, joy abounds 🙂

That is how Stephen began his sentence today. I’m not sure it was possible to end well, really.

But he chose to finish it anyway.

“Don’t take this offensively, but when you wear goggles, you kind of look like the young Kelli.”

Awesome. So I looked like a frog as a kid, too?

Oh, and after some observation during our regular visits to the pool, we’re pretty sure they simply lay the towels out dry in the sun and fold them back up.  I guess there is the off chance they are letting them dry and folding them up to take them to the laundry, but it seems unlikely.

Oh, well. I guess the smell can only really be blamed on us then?

I love hooks.

It’s a simple thing, but they are wonderful. You can hang up everything: dirty clothes, clean clothes, clothes you haven’t decided if they are clean or dirty; wet clothes and pajamas; even belts, jackets, and bags. Or here, helmets and umbrellas, which we seem to have in abundance.

Either way, they’re ideal.

And we have this amazing little factory outside of Mae Sot where they make bamboo furniture. It’s all lovely, and it gets shipped around the world, to places like Pier 1 where they can sell it for hundreds of dollars. Or they can sell it here for $60.

So we went and ordered some hooks. We got to hand pick the kind we wanted, the color of the stain, the number of hooks.

I was very excited. But it would take two weeks for them to be ready. It’s a factory and not always open, so though we were lucky on this trip, we asked when they were usually open. Every day, they said, except Sunday. Afternoons, not mornings.

It sounded simple enough.

We returned two weeks later, only to meet the guard and receive the hand motion for closed. And if you’re ever in town, that’s the same hand motion for not here, don’t know, don’t have, or don’t do that.

We weren’t sure why they weren’t open: it was a Tuesday about 4:00pm. Sounded like not Sunday, in the afternoon to me. But we left, and decided to come back the next week.

That was today. We biked over, a little earlier in the afternoon this time. Maybe 1:00pm is more their definition of afternoon?

Closed. The guard gave the same hand motion, but this time with some laughs and one word: three.

Three? Three what?  Stephen motioned to his watch: three o’clock?

“Yes, yes,” he shook his head. “Three, three.” And he pointed at his wrist.

So we came back at 3:30pm this afternoon. And mind you, this is not oh-so-close. Biking takes a good forty-five minutes if you’re booking it. Motorbiking is obviously faster, but it’s not so comfortable to go too far on a motorbike seat; but then a bicycle seat doesn’t scream comfort, either.

Anyway, same same. We got the closed motion and a few more bouts of laughter, but from a group this time. Stephen motions to his watch: 3 o’clock, right?  But this time, the man walks over to his calendar and points to 3 October.

I’m sorry. What?

Please note that it’s the 21st today. It’s either going to take a whole lot of magic or a whole lot of patience for me to pick it up on 3 October.

And I’m going to have to say that is not what I first assumed when you said three.

We pointed some more. I pointed to the 21st, they seemed confused. I pointed to 3 November, and they pointed to 3 October again. I tried Karen, but they responded in something else.  We did a lot of pointing.

And I guess we’re going back Monday. Maybe three days?

Most of the time I’m amazed how much you can accomplish without words. And other days I’m amazed at how much can be miscommunicated with them.

There have been so many ups and downs recently; some I can disclose on the blog and others I cannot. More times that not, the past few weeks have been hard. I have been drained. I have been hurting.

But we’re on the brink of something good.

Many good things, really.

My sister and brother-in-law arrive in Thailand one week from today. One week!  I have been so excited for them to come for nearly three months now, and it has been continually building. I’ve imagined meeting them at the airport so many times, I occasionally have to re-think if it’s already happened. I am so excited for the time to cook together, visit the markets, and show them our lives here.

My excitement has been multiplying as the days lessen, and this week, my excitement has become more urgent.  It’s become more of an ache–for familiar faces to be here and experience this with us for just a moment.

We have more things planned than anyone thought possible in a shady little border town like Mae Sot.

We’re on the brink of something good.

But it doesn’t stop there.  After my sister departs, we have just one month in-country before we fly to America for the holidays. Yes, one month. So short of a goodbye to my sister that tears can be denied.

And amidst some time to catch up, this month will chock-full of traveling and Christmas festivities. We’ll be traveling about five hours south and eight hours north in these few weeks, helping to host six Christmas parties for our children’s projects all along the Thai-Burma border. That will be six Christmas parties of games, crafts, the Christmas story, and a gift for each child. Six Christmas parties for the lovely orphaned Karen children that have stolen our hearts.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

Or does it?

Because the 18th of December welcomes us back to American soil for some cherished time with our families. I’m aching for it already.

It’s been a rough go, yes.

Today?  Not wonderful, to state it mildly.

Tomorrow? Exhausted at the thought of it.

But, we’re on the brink of something good.