The House Collective

grounded and weighted.

by Filed Under: house calls, house church, kelli 1 Comment

I started doing yoga regularly at the end of last year.

After trying yoga a few times in the past, I was never really a fan. I really do love my time swimming or running or biking. However, I found that yoga has provided a great wind-down for the day and I became a regular.

(It also helps that my son loves it, and walks around suddenly saying, “Tree!” and standing in position. Adorbs.)

It’s become a great way for me to be aware of my body, particularly as it’s been fighting chikungunya for the past year. I can daily evaluate where my pain is and how intensive it is.

One of the Gaiam videos I have done over and over ends in relaxation pose, where the speaker talks of feeling where your body rests on the ground and the weight of your body on the earth. He reminds us to be thankful for another day lived with our weighted presence on the planet.

The first time I listened I started to cry, thankful for another day here. And since then, each day and each yoga session has meant more to me; for another day, weighted and present here.

Sometimes that is thankfulness for another day with Oak, here together as a family of three. Some days that is a thankfulness for another day completed, with Oak, fighting through a battle.
Some days I am weighted with thankfulness for our nearly ten years, right here in this community and in this house, and on this ground that has become so hallowed to me. Sometimes I am weighted by the days spent here, and the weight I tend to carry in from my friends, pressing me into this ground while I wish to fly away.
Some days I can hear my husband in the next room, praying with our son and singing to him as he goes to sleep, while I feel the weight of our lives together. Some days I feel the lightness of the gift he is to me. Other days I feel the weight of what we have experienced and waded through together, right here, on these floors that sometimes covered with water or sweat or blood.
This tile has carried so much of me, of us.

Some days I am thankful for the ability to move and stretch, feeling light in my capacity. Some days I am sad that an unlucky virus months ago has left certain muscles still aching, and I can’t hardly believe how some muscles feel 31 and others feel 131.
And then now, there are days where I realize not all of us will be able to have our weight on the earth day after day, as another virus spreads around the globe. Sometimes I feel thankful for my son breathing easily in his bed in the next room, my husband singing along to the music, with air in our lungs. Sometimes I feel worry for our parents sitting just beyond a travel ban.

These are such odd times.

Now, I’m doing yoga with Oak while we hang out at home. His preschool is canceled and we’re doing our best to keep our house not the hub of the community.

There are some positives: I’m loving the extra time with Oak. I’m loving the family time. That is a unique gift to receive ten months into an adoption, and we’ll take it.

I’m trying to focus on that.

In other ways, I’m terrified of what waits around the corner. While we pray Covid doesn’t hit our neighborhood, it will be tragedy if it does. Even as it hits Thailand and our town just twenty-four hours ago, we wonder how day-laborers, who live on daily wages, will make it past tomorrow. If there is no work, there is no rice. Pantries and refrigerators and cupboards don’t exist. Even now, as the shop down the street is closed, I wonder what the coming days will look like.

And that’s just eating, assuming we all stay healthy.

After seeing how hospitals in Italy and America have been over-run, I can’t imagine how our little border town medical establishments will fare. (The same town that gave me the wrong vaccine for my first dog bite and only found one break in my finger instead of two.) I’m nervous for supplies and ventilators; for how treatment will be given to those without legality, let alone insurance or universal healthcare. I wonder how the hidden caste systems and hierarchies will affect those who get treatment and those who don’t.

And I worry for my poor, illegal migrant friends who can’t even get six feet from their whole family within their own home. I worry for their lack of running water, and how that translates for washing hands.

How do you keep a pandemic out of a slum?

(I don’t like that word. I don’t want to call my home and my friends homes a slum; I want to call it a community or a neighborhood. But I know what you will think of with those words, and it usually doesn’t evoke images of one-room huts with outdoor “kitchens,” no running water, and shared “bathrooms.” So forgive the word, but apply the word picture that comes to a Western-reader’s mind.)

So we wait. We are trying to be wise. We are trying to be hopeful.

We are trying not to worry about our visa situation, where we will be overstaying our stamp ten days from now. We are trying not to worry about our visa situation, where we might be required to leave and Oak might be required to stay.

We are trying not to worry about Oak’s paperwork, that might be further delayed. Perhaps this process won’t even be completed as cross the five year mark next month.

We are trying not to worry about what we might see and experience in the coming days and weeks. We are trying not to be concerned about the decisions we might be forced to make.

Instead, I have my son doing downward dog right under me, his new favorite way to yoga. We are making tree poses in the swimming pool and falling over with a splash. I am ending the day, laying on the floor in relaxation pose again, thankful for another day on this tile, another day with breath in our lungs, another day with this little boy giggling beside us.

the collective christmas 2019: bits & bobs.

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I had the hopes of fitting this into one post this year, but who am I kidding? It’s the most wonderful time of the year! And this, partnered with a three-year-old experiencing Christmas-in-community for the first time? There’s just too much goodness.

I’m starting with the bits and bobs of Christmas that happened throughout December, following our lovely #မိသားစုmonday of setting up our Christmas tree.

Our tree soon became a photo opp for the community, so much that one friend said in English, “It’s the most fantastical tree I have ever seen!” I also overheard another friend telling someone else, “You can come take pictures in front of Kelli & Stephen’s tree. They’ll even take the picture and send it to your phone. And it’s free!”

We did quite a lot of cookie decorating, including a gingerbread cookie evening with our friend Jason’s English class. After teaching a group in our community for nearly a year, they are heading back to the States in a few months, and I’ll be picking up teaching this class. A cookie decorating party & English lesson was their farewell.

We also took advantage of a local coffee shop offering pre-made cookie dough and icing! This was our celebration of the end of a year of self-defense, consisting of a twelve-week course and six months of regular review.

The “mall” in town also had a huge Christmas tree this year, so I took the ladies by to see it. And mostly to take photos (for free!).

This is Asia, and we’re here for it 👊

I also went back that evening to the same coffee shop offering the same pre-made dough & icing (and their own clean up!) to do this with Oak & Stephen–for very, very obvious reasons.

We had a lovely time as a family, too! 🥰

Earlier in December, we did a 5k walk/run with Sojourn Studios to benefit local migrant education. This means we woke up extremely early with two of the jewelry artisans on one of the coldest Sundays of the year and walked–with a very little bit of running–a 5k!

We also had a Sojourn Studios Christmas party at a really lovely restaurant in town, and the ladies & their kids all loved it!

Oak was excited to have two of his best friends along.

Closer to Christmas, we did two Sunday night movie nights to watch The Star & Home Alone with the community. We pulled out all the stops: we bought dozens and dozens of hotdogs for snacks!

We did a craft with the kids just before and had red & green beans for the kids (and adults) to string.

In the midst of all the Christmas excitement, we also had a new baby born into the community! Pyo Pyo, one of our bread ladies, had her third child– a healthy little girl!

And still amidst the chaos, we saw Phway Phway off to university! The university system in Myanmar is a force to be reckoned with: they decide the university you’ll attend, what you’ll study, and when you’ll go. But they don’t tell you until just days before! It was a whirlwind for us walking through this with her through November and December, trying to maneuver the logistics while she also maneuvered health issues and a surgery the first week of school. She’s now healthy and attending class!

And, drum roll, please:
She’s the first in her family to graduate high school.
She’s the first in her family pass Myanmar’s infamously difficult matriculation.
She’s the first in her family to attend university.
She’s the first in our community attend university!
She’s the first recipient of The House Scholarship Fund!

More on that to come.
For now, we couldn’t be prouder. Really, I feel oddly parental-proud and we both nearly cried sending her off!

Stephen and I went to see the new Star Wars, because somehow they’ve managed to become a Christmas tradition?! Not sure how I feel about that, but an oversized Star Wars sweatshirt? I’m here for that.

And last, of course we started shopping for the community! Oak did surprisingly well at purchasing hundreds of toys that weren’t for him!

And then we started wrapping.

That was quite a few bits and bobs to fill the holiday season, but the main events are still to come! 😊

safety.

by Filed Under: house calls, house church, housewares, kelli, on the house, photos, stephen 1 Comment

We got a new lock for our front door.

This might not seem significant, but I love what it represents. For years we have had the same lock on our front door, and we’ve slowly been sharing keys. I’m not sure how many we’ve printed now: too many to count. Not only do all our employees have keys, but we also have provided keys to women in challenging domestic situations so that they are able to leave and find a safe place when necessary. Because of this, we also lock it from the outside every night, ensuring people can get in even if we’re asleep or away.

As we worked through our self-defense class earlier this year and dealt with a few different situations, Stephen wasn’t sure it was a great plan, though. It’s hard to flee a situation and remember to grab your key and papers; it’s also fairly easy to take a key from someone or lose it. There were times some friends didn’t have access to a key and thus didn’t come when we were away.

So Stephen started researching. As he loves technology anyway, it was a new challenge. Within a few months, he found a new lock technology that reads fingerprints, storing up to fifty. It also connects to our phones, telling us when the door is both unlocked and locked.

And so, this week we replaced the old lock with this new one, fully equipped with a number of fingers: the bread ladies, The Reinforcers, the jewelry & sewing ladies, the Sojourn Studio staff, our house manager, the girls in our self-defense class, & the two teenagers who are responsible for the community soccer ball! Stephen made sure all the fingerprints were saved and working; everyone was duly impressed.

And best of all, women can escape to our house without finding a key first. They always have their finger with them, and it’s ready and waiting. It’s also helpful that we know a bit of what’s going on when we’re away, seeing as people come and go. If anything goes wrong, we can even remote-access open it, which just blows my mind.

We were pretty excited about this for many reasons.

And then we headed off to Bangkok. It opened one night pretty late, and we wondered a bit about the kids putting the ball away so late and made a note to follow up with them. (We had told them it needed to be in by 9pm, it was a bit after that.)

But instead it was one of our staff members, a dear friend. She told us she and her son had stayed at the house two nights while we were away because of some problems with she & her husband.

And while this isn’t great to hear, it also is. It’s times like this we are thankful we are here, or at least our house is: for such a time as this! And we’re thankful for a place we can share with friends freely, for work and play and safety.

So a new lock is sort of a big deal around here.

in review.

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I love paper. I like writing things down. 

I like writing list after list, and then losing them or sticking them in pockets all over the place. 

Last year at Christmas, I was gifted a beautiful paper planner. I wanted to write all the things in it.

But I also love my husband, and he really loves those online, syncing calendars that we can share. He can always read the handwriting. He always knows where to find it. He runs out of patience my list-writing and list-losing habits. (Which if you know his patience, is saying quite a lot.)

So, I turned this lovely planner into something of a record. I set a few goals and just started keeping track. I wanted to run, swim, and bike through the year. I wanted to read 52 books. I wanted to study Burmese, and I wanted to practice my violin again. 

I bailed on violin. 
I did study Burmese faithfully through the year. (Still.)

I read 54 books. 

My favorite author of the year: Fredrick Backman. He’s followed by Jim Wallis, for what he believes and how he presents it so well; and Rainbow Rowell, for writing truly fun fiction.
My favorite autobiographies: Madeline Albright & Ruth Bader Ginsburg. 
Most terrifying read: Fascism: A Warning by Madeline Albright. Even more terrifying, actually, than Night, a memoir of the Holocaust by Elie Wiesel.
Most surprisingly genius: A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles. And all of Fredrick Backman’s work. Every single one is charming, even if you at first think its horrifying.

I ran 405 kilometers. 
I swam 77 kilometers. (Most of those were in an 18-meter pool, so that’s about 4,277 laps!)
I bicycled 773 kilometers.

And thanks to Stephen’s great ideas to keep records of other things (on the computer, in organized charts and graphs), we know other things about 2018.

The Breakfast Club served 8,791 meals!

Flour & Flowers—just from January to September—baked 815 loaves of bread and rolled out 5,170 tortillas. They sold 248 pans of cinnamon rolls. At the end of the year, they each took home 5,000 baht (about $158) in savings, in addition to their weekly salaries. 

For all my railing on paper and records, it’s pretty cool to see! I love seeing the books I read, remembering all I learned. It’s good to know that I could run across Arkansas on I-40 in a year if I needed to. It’s good to know that I could swim across Lake Balaton—in Hungary, in a year—if I needed to! I like seeing how all those crazy Fridays played became huge amounts of bread and savings accounts. I like seeing how all those 5:30am wake ups fed oh-so-many kiddos.

Here’s to 2019. 

52 more books. 
52 verses memorized with Stephen. 
Hopefully 104 more runs, 156 more swims, and 52 more bike rides!

what’s to come.

by Filed Under: house calls, housewares, kelli, stephen 1 Comment

We’re still alive over here.

While some days that is just barely true, it’s true all the same; and a gift not to be taken lightly.

Last week was a deluge. And now, sitting miles away on a couch in the countryside of France, I can tell you: we barely made it here. In the seven days before we flew out, we made five trips to the emergency room for friends. Two new babies were born. There were some truly scary situations where I thought we might lose dear friends.

There was also our last Flour & Flowers week before this time away. The Mae Sot community loves these bread products more than we realized, and they ordered with gusto! This past Friday the ladies baked and sold 65 loaves of bread, 330 tortillas, and 180 cinnamon rolls. That’s incredible, for three women with two ovens and a tiny little kitchen on the Thai-Burma border.

So incredible, in fact, that one of the ladies went into labor that evening! She was a month early, so when we got the call at 3am, I asked multiple times, “Now?! She is in labor now?!”  After my panic and worry that we hadn’t given her enough breaks or we had pushed her to pre-term labor; the baby arrived safe and healthy. She is a beautiful little girl.

And her sister-in-law told us, “I told her she did a great job going into labor before you left!”

There were also the plans to be set up while we are away: jewelry and sewing projects that will continue; friends that will step in to help the kids and adults continue English, guitar, and cajon lessons; The Reinforcer that will continue some sound editing projects; and our house continuing to be open for Playhouse three days a week. Our blind friend, Aung Moe, must still eat; and the insurance program still needs premiums paid every month.

Oh, and when you travel, you must pack bags–which thankfully managed to happen the day we left.

_________________

I suppose I should back up and explain. I’ve been out of words for awhile now. They just don’t seem to come like they used to, so I stopped writing.

We’ve just left our little community for two months away.  We are visiting family in the States, with the intrepid hope that this might be our last opportunity to visit before we are placed soon for our adoption.  And we’re taking some time in France, where we are anticipating space to pray, think, and dream for the future, with some healing and rest mixed in.

We still love this community, and we hope that somehow, by sheer miracles, we will see change come: changes in patterns, changes in futures, changes in systems, changes of heart.

We also hope that we can have the stamina to keep going when we feel this worn out.

Here is a short video Stephen put together of the different happenings around our home and what we envision for this time away.

____________________

Recently I’ve struggled so much to write. The stories, they are too close; they are too much a part of me, a part of us. Sometimes I’m not sure how to even tell them, while respecting my dearest friends or even myself.

So as the silence reveals, I bailed on the words and the stories; particularly the ones that hurt so much to tell.

But there are still so many, that are good and fun and joyous. And Mway Mway has been capturing photos recently, and I’m loving it. They are beautiful glimpses into some of our favorite people and favorite spaces.

Thus, in a new twist for this writing space, I’m launching a mini-series, if you will. “Our Favorites”–a few of our favorite things as we step back and look over the photographs of the life we live.

Stay tuned.

trying again & counting wins.

by Filed Under: house calls, kelli 1 Comment

Development is no easy task.

We took a giant leap for this community in April: we partnered with a local insurance program for migrants in the area. This involved creating a few difficult boundaries in the community. First, we would no longer provide rides out to the free clinic; nor would we be footing any medical bills at clinics or hospitals. Instead, we would continue to provide basic medicine here in our home, and then help to subsidize the new insurance program.

To give you an idea, it’s an amazing deal. Healthy adults and kids pay $3 per month; basic chronic cases pay $5. Pregnant women who join pay an entry, plus $6 per month–which allows them to birth at the local hospital with C-section accessibility & their children receive official Thai birth certificates that can allow their children to become partial citizens if they stay to 18. Nearly all visits to the hospital, including surgeries and deliveries and bloodwork and admittance, are all free to the M-Fund member.

To help promote this in the community, we set up a subsidy system. It was a chaotic mess, involving colors and systems, and looked like this:

(If you’re really trying to understand the above mess, S = “staff” of The Breakfast Club, Flour & Flowers, The Reinforcers, Sojourn Studios, or our sewing project; A = you’re in our community and we know you well; B = you’re looking for a cheaper way to get insurance & we support that, but I wouldn’t know you in the market; P = pregnant.)

And yet, two months in, people were struggling to get their payments in on time. One month the payment fell on a Flour & Flowers delivery day, which found Thida and I sprawled on the floor with a pile of insurance numbers and names and money from the community and money from the House Fund and a couple calculators, all while the insurance staff waited for the money. I was late for deliveries. Thida had spent the whole day going door-to-door asking for premiums that people may or may not have. For about four families, Thida was paying for them and they’d “pay her back tomorrow.”

Something had to change, but it’s just always a challenge to maneuver. How do we encourage development: savings, investing in insurance, stability? But we also recognize and don’t want to belittle the real issues of poverty, struggling to make ends meet, being fearful of arrest, trying to get their kids fed, and trying to get clothes washed with water they are pulling out of a well.  How do we inspire these families to value insurance enough to pay on time?

________________

In May, we had two families ask for money to pay for their kids’ school fees. We do value school, and we want to encourage kids to attend and parents to make that happen. But we also don’t feel it’s fair to have 90% of the families around us paying the fees, and yet we’re funding the last 10%. What will motivate them all to pay next year?

For each situation, we came up with a different solution. If there is one thing we have learned, every situation requires something different; something to fit this particular person or child, this particular financial situation, this particular need.

For the first situation, we really felt she didn’t have access to the money. Her husband was working and spending most of the money; it was a win if she & her son were given food in the scenario. Because of this, we were fairly certain we’d never see a single baht if we offered a loan. So we offered her an option to work off school fees. We’d pay the fees in full, and she had to work twenty days for The Breakfast Club, helping Thida. We also talked to Thida, explaining the opportunity for her to work off the school fees, as well as learn from a more experienced mother. We presented it to Thida as an opportunity: to talk to her about how to cook and serve healthy food; for how to discipline and set expectations for kids without hitting them.

Honestly, it’s been an epic success. She has since stayed on, hired to help Thida with breakfast every day. She’s eight months pregnant, and yet able to work a few hours in the morning to put money into her hands (very significant in some relationships), where she can make the choice for it to go to food or other necessities. She also has come to know and trust us; and has since spent a few nights at our house when she felt unsafe at hers. Her son comes for breakfast every day, and also gets to take some to school for lunch.

For the second situation, the husband did work and really did love his family. There are some budgeting choices that are difficult; but it’s clearly a choice to spend it on alcohol or save it for food, clothing, and school fees. For them, we offered a deal: we would pay the school fees in full, at $30. She would give back $3 per week: every week, on the same day, with no exceptions. If she was on time and had the full amount for 5 weeks–at which point she’d have paid $15, or half–that was all she had to pay. But for each payment she missed, she had to pay $3 more of the total.

Again (and surprise!)–an epic success. They didn’t miss a single payment. They were able to have school paid at half price, and we were able to have a successful loan system that didn’t weigh on our shoulders as we nagged and nagged for the next payment.

________________

With these two successes, we looked to M-Fund. How would we motivate this community to pay on time?

We couldn’t realistically offer everyone work to ensure they had the money, so we took Option #2! Last week we had yet another community meeting, to reiterate the value of M-Fund, to remind them that we will not always be here, and explain that this our effort to encourage a long-term improvement.

And we offered a simpler subsidy system. For anyone in with M-Fund in our community, money is due on the 29th of every month. If they submit their money by the 20th, House Fund will pay 50%. If they submit their money by the 25th, House Fund will pay 25%. And if they wait until the 29th, they pay the entire premium. We do have an exception for pregnancy: we begin at paying 100% on the 20th, if they ensure their entire group or family has paid by then.

Simply: If you value this enough to save and organize ahead of time, we’ll pay some. If you are disorganized or refuse to plan ahead, we won’t. And this will last until April, at which point it’s your responsibility to pay the full amount.

This did involve a re-working of the entire system, and if I’m honest, I’m tired of re-organizing health insurance programs in a Numbers chart, in Burmese.

But, we did have three community members go to the hospital this month for major issues: one for a CT scan (so expensive, but free!), one for surgery (so expensive, but free!), and another little toddler admitted with dengue (expensive enough, but free!). So I was motivated. Sure, let’s try this again!

As the 20th rolled around this month, just a week after our meeting to announce this, all but three members had their premiums paid in. Next week, we’ll be ready when the insurance staff As Thida and I went over the numbers and figures, she smiled, “Thank you so much. This is such a good idea. So much easier!”

So we’re just over here counting our wins.

all in a friday.

by Filed Under: house calls, housewares, kelli, photos 2 Comments

We had an epic Flour & Flowers day on Friday. So epic, in fact, I was up before 5am, and met the ladies at 5:30am to begin. And because it was such a full week of orders, I helped them pretty consistently through the day to help with details and be an extra set of hands.

Our two ovens were on constantly from 6am to 4pm.
We used about 30 kilograms of flour.
We made 35 loaves of bread.
Nyein Nyein rolled out 170 tortillas, because that’s her specialty.
We made 30 pans of cinnamon rolls.
We delivered to 33 customers around town.

Nyein Nyein & Pyint Pyu Hey had to finish baking while Pyo Pyo and I showered and headed off to make deliveries. We came back to pick up the rest mid-way through. For Pyo Pyo and I, we finished deliveries and finances about 6:45pm.

It was such long day, but also so very good. They were optimistic about the sales, and they made quite a bit of extra money to reward them for their early morning and late day. They also put a large portion into their savings account for the end of the year, which is exciting! To be able to reward them both the day of and in the future seems like a win!

We also had good conversations and laughter. There are great things about having a tiny little kitchen filled with four people (five during The Breakfast Club hours!) to run into each other and step over each other and laugh together.

There were so many good things about the day.

__________________

At one point the conversation turned to our husbands. They commented that Stephen & I don’t fight; ironically, we had just had quite the argument the previous morning, during The Breakfast Club, which I was sure at least some of them had heard or been aware of. But the conversation, loosely translated, when like this:

You and Stephen never fight. 
We do fight sometimes.
But we don’t hear it. When my husband and I fight everyone can hear it and everyone knows!
Well, we fight, but you might not hear it. And Stephen doesn’t hit me.
Because in America men don’t hit their wives, right?
Well, in America, men can be arrested for hitting their wives. But also, Christians mostly don’t hit their wives, because of what the Bible says. Stephen doesn’t hit me because he loves God and doesn’t think that is okay.
Yeah, Stephen doesn’t like it when men hit women. He really doesn’t like that. And he loves you. You love each other. 
Yes, and because he loves me. We do love each other. And yes, Stephen doesn’t like men hitting their wives or other women.
He always comes out and stops them! So I’m not worried when you are here. I can come here or Stephen will come stop my husband.
Do your husbands hit you?
– One time. He hit me one time. Our son didn’t like it and said, ‘Don’t do that! Don’t hurt mommy! She doesn’t like it!’
– Sometimes. Have you ever seen the marks on me? It hasn’t happened for a long time. The worst time was when you were in America. I had marks all over me; my face, my arms, my legs. He was really mad and hit me a lot. Until his brother came to pull him off me and told him to stop. But everyone heard and saw it.
You weren’t here so I didn’t know what to do. But I don’t worry if you are here, I know Stephen will come! My husband is so much bigger than me, there isn’t anything I can do. But Stephen will come. 
Was he drunk when he hit you?
Yeah. He drank to much and came home; I hadn’t finished the rice yet and he was really angry. My daughter was so scared and kept shouting, “Daddy, don’t do that! Mommy is hurt! Daddy, DON’T!” But it hasn’t happened for a long time now.

I was processing all this, and that was obvious. I love these women, and their kids, and their husbands. And honestly, in this context, they are pretty healthy families, all things considered. My mind was swimming: the father of that little girl? They actually have a really sweet, beautiful relationship. The brother that pulled the husband off? He’s a Reinforcer. He’s in high school.
It’s true, Stephen will come if he can.
It’s true, he doesn’t like men hitting women; husbands hitting their wives. And in his words, “If that’s what they remember me by–the crazy American who didn’t like men hitting their wives–I’m okay with that!”

The ladies were watching me, and asked, It makes you sad, doesn’t it?

Yeah, it makes me really sad.

Sometimes there is so much we want to change in this neighborhood. I want them to have more education and more opportunities: to learn English and to learn how to use computers; to learn guitar and Thai and literacy. I want them to have a job where they manage the books and count the money; where they learn more reading and writing Burmese and doing math; where they learn to manage their time and do their best: so we sell bread and flowers every week to do that. We make jewelry and sew bags.

I want the kids to love books and play safely. I want the kids to go to school, not to work or be sent off to who-knows-where. I want them to learn to save money. I want them to eat healthy and have enough to eat. I want them to go to the doctor and receive treatment. I want their babies to be born with paperwork. I want them to have access to safe, clean water. I want them to have a safe place to ask for help when it floods or they lose their jobs or someone gets really sick.

I want them to see their value. I want them to have confidence. I want them to know how much God loves them–so much that he sent this young married couple halfway around the world, to this seemingly random street, to fall in love with this neighborhood. To struggle miserably at language, but keep on trying. To struggle miserably with learning to love here, but to keep on trying. I want them to see that God really, really loves them, and he can show them mansions of his goodness that I haven’t figured out yet, but I believe is there. And I believe it’s good.

But yes, I also want them to learn that husbands hitting their wives isn’t a normal, and that its okay to expect something else. I want them to see how to stick up for each other. I want them feel loved when someone else does stick up for them.

There are so many things we want to change; and it feels overwhelming.

But I have committed: “I will listen for the echo of rejoicing in heaven when those I minister among step into the light or even take a small step forward, and will remind myself that persistent celebration rolls back the power of the enemy.”

And somewhere, in that sad conversation, there was an echo of rejoicing.

__________________

It was just hours before this conversation became more real. We were about to leave for dinner, but instead, the evening found us outside standing next to these same ladies, while we all tried to determine if another woman in the community was safe. It was a fight; a loud argument. But it has turned violent before, so we waited; prayerfully and carefully trying to determine when it’s preventing violence and when it’s prying.

Stephen went over to ask if everything was alright, and the mother said she was okay.

As we waited not too far away, her little boy came over within ten minutes, “My mom said to come call you now. She said to go call Stephen.”

So Stephen went to get the mother; and I went inside with the little boy. He had tears in his eyes as I sat to talk with him.

He and Stephen played MarioKart and Donkey Kong; and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles–which took so long to understand: The men, different colors, with the knives, cutting down…grass? What? Oh, turtles? No, frogs? With knives? What?” 

I sat with the mother while she cried and calmed down. She told me she didn’t want her baby–the one arriving in just a month or two; and didn’t know how to take care of her kids. Would we take them?

Oh, the painful irony, folks: of being in a slower adoption process than we hoped, while being offered children–A little boy you already love and know! Newborn babies about to arrive across your street!–and know they are paperless; knowing the line between trafficking and adoption is so grey here; knowing that she needs to be equipped to care for her kids, not have them taken away. So we talked about this little baby that she would soon love so much. That she would look into his eyes and love him. How her son needs his mother and they love each other so much. They can stick together. He’s going to be such a great young man someday…

We talked about options, too: how we can help, how we can get outside help. How this isn’t the end of the story.

But as the story continues, it is not lost on me, as Stephen played video games with a little boy over a bowl of Mama noodles in front of the prayer painted on our wall:

May God bless us with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that we may live from deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of God’s creations
So that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless us with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war,
So that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with just enough foolishness
To believe that we can make a difference in the world,
So that we can do what others claim cannot be done:
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and all our neighbors who are poor.

__________________

I have been thinking more recently that this blog is on it’s way out; because who would want to read this? I’m sure there are rules out there about how many words I’m supposed to write; and this has to be way over that!  It’s quite sad, and I know it. You might even think I need to pursue more counseling (than I already am!).

Can I just tell you: there are so many good things in our lives. I love how many jobs are created in our home; that women able to work safely and be paid fairly with their kids nearby. I love that they are given opportunities for more education in a variety of ways. I love that the youth have a safe place to be and learn. I love that the kids know we won’t hit them. I love that the parents know Stephen doesn’t hit me. I love that the littles come calling for Auntie Kelli and Uncle Stephen; and they’ll always find a hug, a smile, and safety. I love that we are in the neighborhood and culture; but also bringing in a new perspective. I love that we have so much to learn and so much to teach. I love that the kids teach pretend school on our porch; I love that they no longer dig through our trash. I love hearing English songs sung on our porch, whether the words are right or not. I love seeing the kids bring books to Thida to be read to. I love that the kids know to say thank you at our house, while the parents are amazed. I love that I can see kids on their way to school in the morning, put bandages on their cuts, and send them out the door after a steaming bowl of rice, vegetables, and meat.

I cannot believe what God has allowed to happen here. I cannot believe that he has been so gracious to us; for something so much bigger than a couple that didn’t know what they were getting into.

But while the goodness continues, every single day, I feel like I must also write about the sadness, because it’s true. It’s real, around the world, including this seemingly random street; and yours, too. It’s in your country of residence just as much as mine.

I recently read in Jim Wallis’ America’s Original Sin book, “Are we hiding behind untruths that help make us feel more comfortable, or are we willing to seek the truth, even if that is uncomfortable? [John 8:32] is telling us that only by seeking the truth are we made free, and that hanging on to untruths can keep us captive to comfortable illusions.”

All the conversations yesterday, the fighting: it made me uncomfortable. Honestly, even the 5am wake up and endless baking made me fairly uncomfortable! But I also encountered truth. And for this little neighborhood, the truth is that God both hurts for them and loves them more than we ever will. And that this is precisely why we’re here: to let the truth set us all free.

come on in.

by Filed Under: house calls, housewares, kelli, photos, playhouse, schoolhouse Leave a Comment

Life in this neighborhood is a rollercoaster.

Summertime here is from mid-March to the first of June, and it is chaotic to say the least. The kids are absolutely crazy: climbing fences and gates and trees before 7am, with so much energy and so little structure. We have kids napping on our porch; there are so many I fear aren’t fed regular meals. They’ll easily spend all day in our yard and on our porch and in our house.

Hence, the summer program. We still do Breakfast Club every weekday morning; we have two days a week of summer school classes, and two more days of play and games. We do mid-day fruit at least twice a week, plus other days of milk and packaged snacks.

Then it gets even more complicated. Many of the kids in the community live with grandparents or aunts or uncles through the school year, and their parents “call” for them over the summer. They will be sent off to Bangkok or places in Burma to stay with their parents for a few months before they return for school.

It’s also common for kids to live in Burma with grandparents while the parents work in Mae Sot. The parents, likewise, “call” for their kids over the holidays, so we have a whole new slew of kids in our neighborhood that we don’t know, but their parents know us, and they are here just for a few months.

And there is yet another group that lives here with their immediate family, but goes off to visit aunts, uncles, and cousins in Burma for the holiday.

It’s a very big, very convoluted switcheroo.

So while we still have The Breakfast Club, we added about fifteen kids and lost about twenty, presumably both temporarily. And while we have the summer program, some of the kids don’t know the routines: what our rules are, the fact that we speak Burmese (but not perfectly; no, I didn’t get that spiel…). It’s a big learning curve for all of us.

And it’s messy.

______________

This little boy, he left us in early December, just a few days before his birthday. We had a cake early and said our goodbyes as he moved back to Burma with his dad. Then he came back, just two weeks later. He didn’t like it, and came back to live with his mom, older sister, and younger brother.

He and his sister left again at the end of March, to leave over the summer. They said they’d be back for school in June. We gave them hugs and said goodbyes; just a few months, right?

The little brother followed just a few weeks after. I asked Thida last week, and she’s talking now about how they might stay. It is going well with their dad and grandmother–maybe the mother was the problem, and she’s still here in Mae Sot.  Now they might start school in Burma this year.

That might be the last of their living in our community; I don’t even know yet. And I won’t even pretend I can swallow that. We’ve been snapping photos together for over seven years. To say we love them is the understatement of our lives here.

______________

This little boy: he left us last year.

His parents got in a fight and split; he was left with a grandfather and an aunt. He was then called to Bangkok by his grandmother and yet another aunt; we said our goodbyes and hoped it might be better for his messy little life.

Then he came back, a few months later. His parents are back under the same roof. They are expecting again, and I’m just not even sure what to think.

______________

This is a family of first-borns, amazingly enough.

Three are first-borns in their individual families, but all sent to live with their grandparents here in Mae Sot. The littlest is a youngest child in every way you could imagine! They are two more cousins & brothers that have joined at different times and then been sent back, just to really confuse it all. But these four have stayed, and made a second little family of over-achievers.

Over the summer, the oldest got a job, which we hope is just for the summer. Reality? With her switch to Thai school last year she was put back into first grade. And money in the pocket is more generally more tempting than the promise of money through education. I’m nervous she might be a nanny forever.

The older boy was called by his parents to go to Bangkok, as was the littlest little guy.

This leaves one. Left behind, not called by his parents; and now having a few breakdowns as of late.

______________

This girl is one of Thida’s, and we love her!

She left to go to visit an aunt for the summer, and I was so sad to not have her in the summer program. Her smile can light up a place, and a she’s a natural leader.

Thida casually mentioned she called to ask after her daughter, and they said she was in Yangon. Thida laughed about all the fun she was going to have.

I have been praying all week for her. It terrifies me to have her traveling on her own, generally a paperless young teenage girl, in a world and region where human trafficking is rampant.

______________

One of our Breakfast Club families is in a hard season: in the past six months they have moved into a field, living in a shanty hut with no water or electricity. They are unable to afford the insurance program we are offering and supplementing; and it’s putting us in a challenging position.

Her baby was due for vaccinations last week, and while we are no longer driving out to the clinic, I did agree to drive her to a free vaccination clinic in the market. As she got in the car, Thida asked her if her husband was working that day. She said no, as her husband was hungover from yesterday and unable to work.

Thida later told me this is her second husband, and shared their sad story. Apparently their are two more kids in Burma, and it’s just messy.  We talked about how we just aren’t sure how to help, because if we help with one thing, it will just be another.

______________

This little boy moved to Bangkok to join his mom and dad, aunts, uncles, and cousins in Bangkok last year.

We have visited him there, and while we missed him terribly, we were hopeful.

But his grandmother & primary caregiver didn’t like Bangkok–not enough people to talk to during the day–and wanted to move back to Mae Sot with him. This week, we helped move them in a shanty room off the main road, amidst a rough crowd.

______________

One of the bread ladies is unexpectedly pregnant again, struggling with morning sickness with a toddler and unsure about the coming season. This week she said her husband’s boss left town–he had a great job installing windows, and the boss owed him a month’s salary when he left.

This happened last month to another bread ladies’ husband. A month’s salary owed, and the boss skips town.

______________

The Breakfast Club is no easy task. Creating a summer curriculum for forty kids in your house in 100 degree weather sans air con is not to be taken lightly. Sharing your kitchen with a breakfast service and bread business is challenging.

The hard part, though: It isn’t serving breakfast to 50 kids before 8am. It isn’t even the hot, sweaty kids shouting out their ABCs.

It is opening up your door to fifty kids with broken families, painful stories, instability; and saying,
Yeah, COME ON IN, with all that baggage.
Every day before 8am.

the breakfast club | year one.

by Filed Under: house calls, kelli Leave a Comment

On March 30, The Breakfast Club completed it’s first school year!

The very next Monday we started The Summer Breakfast Club, so I can’t say it looks much different. Except to say that one school year was completed!

And in the first year, Thida smoothly served up 5,977 meals before 8:00am.

Did I mention she’s my hero? And the families who have committed to support this project!

one giant leap for this community.

by Filed Under: house calls, kelli, photos 2 Comments

We made a big leap last week.

Just a few months after we moved into this community, a seven-year-old little girl broke her finger {at our house, because of our “creative, fun” idea}. Her parents said they couldn’t go to the hospital because they were afraid of the police. And since her finger was blatant perpendicular to where it was supposed to be, and because it was our fault, and because she is adorable–we took her to the hospital.

Little did we know, but this would unfold years of helping with medical in this community. It opened doors to trips and admissions to the hospital, trips to the emergency room, trips to the free clinic. It turned into trips for more labors & new babies than we could count, more vaccinations, more broken & set bones, and more bloody disasters than we knew a community could create.

If I didn’t love that little-girl-turned-teenager so very, very much and have celebrated her baptism last year, I might regret that first trip to the hospital. And if so many of those emergencies hadn’t turned this community into our best friends, I might regret them.

Instead, we celebrate that House Calls has created epic opportunities this community.

We’ve had to adjust our methods all along–when we couldn’t afford to pay for the hospital for everyone, we started accessing the free clinic. When they couldn’t do everything, we had to learn what their specialties were. When we had medical problems beyond our capacity, we had to call in reinforcements.

And after a few recent situations–including the breech baby emergency–we realized the free clinic was no longer a good option for our neighbors. We felt we needed to come up with something else that was still feasible. It was also through the breech baby emergency that we learned about M-Fund.

M-Fund started last year, and is a local organization that has partnered with the public Thai hospital to create an insurance program for undocumented migrants in Mae Sot and surrounding areas. For our neighbors, they can pay $3 per person per month (plus family discounts; and a higher rate for chronic situations) and receive entirely free treatment at the public hospital, up to $3200.

For those of you in the turmoil of American healthcare who perhaps just paid a premium of hundreds or thousands of dollars, I know you’re thinking this is insane. It is a bit. Even at $3 per person, that’s about 1/3 of a day’s wage, and not readily available for the community around us.

But, it’s an incredible development. For our community, access to this means that they will get better treatment available within biking distance. The better treatment includes X-rays and CAT scans; casts for broken bones; and surgeries. It also means that pregnant mothers can have their baby in a hospital, where a C-section is available if necessary, and their child will receive some form of official birth certificate & access to some Thai social programs and even legality in some cases.

!!!!!

For us, it means we can be done with 30 minute trips out to the clinic multiple times per week.

!!!!!

However, it is no easy feat to convince a community of impoverished families to invest in healthcare and insurance. We admit we are a bit of the problem: if we provide a free ride to a free clinic, even with poor care, it’s still free. It’s still easy and non-committal. We also realize that jumping into pay for your whole family is a big portion of their income–comparable to rent–and not easy.

Looking at our community budget, so much of our finances goes toward emergencies: C-sections, broken bones, and hospital stays. We decided to present a plan to the community that we think (we hope!) uses our community fund more wisely and more sustainably for the next couple years, while also helping our neighbors toward development.

Our plan, which we presented at a community meeting last week, is to offer M-Fund subsidies for the first year. After a community family applies for M-Fund and is given their premium, they have an opportunity to apply with us. From now until October, we’ll pay a percentage up to 50% for different families. We’re creating a tiered system–50% for Tier 1, 25% for Tier 2, and 10% for Tier 3. We pay that percentage for 6 months, and then they are moved down a tier (or out for Tier 1). This happens again six months later. So that even for the highest tiers, we no longer subsidize at the end of 2019.

We have also committed to help with pregnant mothers indefinitely, and we’ll pay their individual premium from the time they know they are pregnant until 3 months after birth. This is mostly because of the breech baby emergency, and that paying premiums has both the potential to save us thousands and change the trajectory of the baby’s life by giving them access to Thai social programs.

Meanwhile, we hope that this creates a window for development: a chance to see how insurance works and how it is beneficial for the family. It also creates a habit of saving and planning. It also helps to create a long-term plan for the community for the future, when we might not be here to help in the same capacity or at all.

And guys, it feels pretty epic. We’re not driving out to the clinic anymore! I just gained two hours most Tuesdays!
Instead, we’re pushing for huge strides toward development.

Following our community meeting last week, we’ve had three more to register new families. Over 60 people have registered!

It comes with challenges to: drawing a hard line in the sand is complicated. There are grey areas; there are hard no’s and situations to mourn. It’s not easy.

But it’s also a part of moving forward. And we do feel like more than ever, our strategies and involvement in the community are intentional: intentional for development, for projects that create returns, for things that are sustainable. And honestly, it wasn’t something we set out to do or had a long-term plan for, but God has led us.

Despite it just being the two of us, despite being in over our heads regularly, despite our inexperience and disorganization, God is good. He has heard our cries, and we are often amazed to look around and see how he led us forward, even just showing us a tiny step in front of us.

And that’s how we’re seeing M-Fund. We didn’t know it would come or when, but we’re excited for what it means practically and developmentally for the community. It’s a giant leap forward for these friends of ours.