house church

miracles.

January 23, 2023 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli Leave a Comment

On Saturday night, I found myself on the other side of town, singing in Burmese and English. A local organization held a worship night, and we all came together to sing.

We—our community, not me specifically!—were managing sound and were the first band to play, and we were late. So many things weren’t working, and allowing three hours for set up wasn’t enough.

And then they played. We sang.

All my life you have been faithful. All my life you have been so, so good.

This week required a lot of miracles. We are in the midst of {a few} significant family transitions and ministry transitions. This week, Stephen was traveling to work out some details, which left Oak and I at home in the community. We needed miracles for Stephen as he was away attempting to accomplish far more than humanly possible. We also need miracles for Oak and I, for safety and behavior regulation in a difficult season. We also needed miracles in the community, for safety and difficulties that often arise.

So as I sang, I thought of all the ways God had been faithful over the last week, to just get us in the door (albeit late).

But also—this transition we’re undertaking: it’s required so many miracles. Every step we take in this country requires government approval for our visas and what work we do, and for our second adoption; never mind the two of us seeing eye-to-eye on the decisions, considering our family and kids needs, and working with ministry partners to make it all happen. Initially, when we stepped out into what we felt God was asking us to do, we got a no from the adoption agency and a few lawyers, telling us it wasn’t possible.

And then miracles. Suddenly, yes upon yes, open door upon open door. Miracle upon miracle.

So in one of the most challenging years yet—2022 was a doozy, and I never would have thought I’d be saying that in 2020—I can now sing, All my life (including 2022!) you have been faithful. All my life (including 2022!) you have been so, so good.

But I realized it goes so much further than that. We’ve now lived in Mae Sot for twelve years, and it has been an uphill climb every. single. year. Each season held different things that made it challenging, but perhaps now if I was facing that challenge I wouldn’t consider it a challenge? But I digress—it’s required so much bravery, if I’m honest. The whole time. It’s required faith. It’s required hope for something I can’t see right now.

Moving to a country where I didn’t speak the language with limited cultural knowledge, or starting to learn one of the many languages. Driving a motorbike or driving a car. Taking that bleeding man to the hospital, and welcoming the bleeding woman to spend the night in my house. Hearing that another friend was arrested, or hearing another attack across the border. Starting a little business, and then another. Having an awkward conversation in another language. Seeing another year go by and choosing to continue waiting for our kids. Watching Covid unfold in a foreign country, in an impoverished community, with a multinational family and no country where we all had visas. Visiting my daughter and then saying goodbye as we wait on a court system.

This has all required so much more than I have or had to give or offer. I have needed miracles almost every day of the past twelve years.

And they were there, in all the faithfulness and goodness of God.

So these young men, they made a little band on Saturday. One played drums, another on bass, another on acoustic guitar; two sang. Stephen played the keyboard with them and sang. Another young man ran the projector, and another ran sound.

Five of them have chosen to follow Jesus in the past five years, four of them are the first to do so in their family. They didn’t really know how to play any instruments five years ago. They didn’t know how to set up a show or manage the equipment.

The gathering of this crew–even late and with mistakes–sound coming out of the speakers and words on the screen and worship: these are miracles, and nothing less. This is the faithfulness of God. These were bones, and they have taken on flesh and sinews. God knew they could live!

And it was so good for me to see this. Because in the day to day…there are challenges. Sometimes you can’t see the forest for all these trees! There are conversations about things that “aren’t too big of a deal” that you think are a very big deal. There are conversations with your kindergartener about words he can’t say even if he hears his bros say it. There are phones and girlfriends and parties and futures and brave decisions and stupid decisions. There are food bills!

But this, this is the faithfulness of God. Because all of my life—the twenty-one years that made me who I was to marry that boy and get on that plane, the twelve years of chaos and uphill climb, the miracles that were required every step of the way—he has been faithful. He has been good.

And I have had a front-row seat to miracles, in me and around me and with me.

bones.

January 16, 2021 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, photos, stephen 4 Comments

We moved into this neighborhood eleven years ago now. The kids that were five and six are now sixteen and seventeen. The ones we watched get married are bringing home second and third kids. The ones who had kids have grandkids.

In the short version, we worked for an organization that wanted to change the big picture, while we saw the need—and maybe our place—in the small picture right in front of us. We wanted to invest here, so we started building.

We built our relationships slowly. In another language, over some tragedies and Memory games, over meals and community meetings. It was weird and nontraditional, to say the least.

And then somewhere along the way, we wondered if we were even the right people for this anyway. We wanted to see more local leadership, and we wondered if we were just in the way. And maybe I just felt like I’d been building for years but wasn’t sure what I was looking at.

I was ready to step back: back into my passport country, back into English, back into an adoption system that would tell me the next step in the process.

But in the most unexpected way, it felt like God said we were placed. We were in position for something. I’m not speaking to philosophy or ideology here, just my own story: while we might not be local or the best for the job or the ones you’d pick out in a crowd, we were placed now. We were in position. We did know the language. We did know the families. We did know the unknowns. We’d started building something that we should continue. It felt like God just said to stay put. Keep building. Wait.

So after that visit to the States, we still went back. With mixed feelings, yes; but we did.

______________

I’ve had Ezekiel 37 on my mind for years, woven throughout this story. I’ve had different people speak to me about it; to share about our community and reference it. I memorized it earlier this year, meditating on the poetry of it.

“Oh, Lord God, you know.” (v.3)

It’s been a long decade of meditating and ruminating.

And then this year—amidst all that 2020 brought us!—there was a rattling.

It’s hard to put it into words. It was dreams, shared by a teenager in tears. It was in conversations, some very, very hard. It was in tears. It was in actual miracles. (Clearly I’m a skeptic. I’m using “actual miracles” so that I believe it, too.)

And then this.

In December, I was sitting on the steps of our church waiting for Stephen to return for the second trip home. This particular Sunday was the first of the month: we had brought bread for communion and flowers for the church from Flour & Flowers. The Reinforcers had run sound and managed the new projector recently installed. The Sunday school teachers fell through unexpectedly at the last minute. With ten or so kids from our community attending and dropping coins all over the tile floors, Stephen and I gathered all the kids outside for a pick up Sunday school lesson.

I was tired as I sat there.

“I’m getting baptized. I’m taking the class and then I’ll get baptized next month.”
“What?”
“Baptized. You know? I’m getting baptized next month. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. And this is what I’m going to do. It’s true. It’s what I believe.”

Later in the week, as we did our Honest Advent by Scott Erickson (recommended!), we read this,

“It’s a surprise that life can come through barren places.
It’s a surprise that meek nobodies partake in divine plans.”

This is how I felt in that moment. I’ve been looking at this desert for a number of years. Sometimes the endless English classes and market runs; friends telling me of the problems in their marriages and families; language learning and impromptu Sunday school in my second language: it feels like endless desert sometimes. It feels like dry bones. It feels like God is asking me, “Can these bones live?”

And often I’m replying–with a sigh or groan–“Oh, Lord God, YOU KNOW.”

Subtext: Oh, Lord God, you know if this is worth anything. Oh, Lord God, you know if we are building anything.

And then life pops up. And I’m sitting in front of a fifteen-year-old that we’ve known since he was five. He’s walked in and out of that door hundred and hundreds of times. We’ve watched his face get rounder and then thinner over and over again. We’ve had conversations about who the Buddhist god is and who our God is. We’ve watched him draw on his hands while sitting in Bible study some weeks and eagerly join the discussion in others.

And now he’s telling me he’s choosing to blaze the path in his very Buddhist family. He’s pondered it, he’s considered what he sees. And he believes.

Because there is a divine plan here, and we as nobodies get to be a part of it. We get to sit on the steps in the middle of a desert and see the the life pop through. We are watching dry bones take on sinews and flesh and breathe life, because we serve a God who does that. He is Emmanuel, here with us in the desert and among the dry bones.

Creating life.

i is for ice cream.

July 31, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, on the house, photos, schoolhouse Leave a Comment

In July, as Thai schools began to open back up, we decided to re-start our weekly English program. Every Saturday, we open our doors at 9am for a crowd of kiddos.

We start with music and a couple read-aloud stories–I’m still working toward story hour right here in my home! Lun then teaches a Bible story, sometimes with music or a memory verse.

We then gather around for rice that Thida has beautifully put together. I love this time every week.

We then break into groups for English and Burmese classes. We have four groups. The 2-5 year olds begin with Burmese with Thida and then move to English with Pwin Pyu Hein and I; the 6-9 year olds are opposite that, with some extra writing practice in both English & Burmese.

In English, these two groups are working through the alphabet and focusing on a letter each week–which brought us to “I is for Ice Cream!” this week.

The older two groups are divided by level. Lun helps them to learn new English words connected with the Bible story she’s just taught. Our expatriate neighbor, Mia, comes by to teach the two older groups in English, too–usually with a game or craft or something magical!

And just like that our house is a menagerie of voices for an hour or so, until they all move outside.

Each week we try to give the younger kids a creative way to work on their English: making grapes with their fingerprints and eating grapes; folding origami hats…and then ice cream. Can you really learn ice cream without eating it? I think not.

We went all out with beautiful cones and rainbow ice cream!

feeling old and loving youth.

July 28, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, on the house, photos, playhouse, schoolhouse Leave a Comment

Per usual, every season looks different for us. And ’tis the season for youth!

As things unfolded after our COVID quarantine here in Mae Sot, we have seen more and more opportunities for the youth in our community. I can’t always explain how things unfold, but we have a youth room now. And twice a week, we have youth night: one night with dinner, English and games; a second with a bible study and games. For English, we are doing a study on Planet Earth, and we’re all learning so much! For our bible study, we are working through the Alpha Series for youth, and we are really enjoying the conversations it’s opening up.

We also mix in a few birthdays and movie nights! And they are loving the new games we have set up on the projector each week.

We also have a whole lot of youth working with us, particularly Stephen. We have hired Pyint Soe full-time, so he works with us five days a week. He continues to serve at church, running sound and Powerpoint, and manages all of the correspondence with our pastor. He also makes the bulletin and oversees four other youth helping to gather the materials for each week. Through this, they are all learning live sound, Powerpoint, typing in Burmese, and other computer skills.

We also have these youth creating a database of music resources for the Burmese church. Pyint Soe is also overseeing this: teaching three teenagers from our church to type in Burmese and use computers regularly, as well as overseeing all the data entry. He’s incredibly organized and a great teacher; and he and Stephen are quite similar. He’s perfect for this!

Further, Stephen continues to train Pyint Soe and two of the other youth on sound recording and editing.

They are working on two different projects right now as they continue to do at-home education because of COVID. Their more-open schedules are allowing them to continue working, and a few of them are practicing & learning musical instruments two to three times per week.

In all, this hires seven youth in our church and community each week, providing snack money for those living at the church with their needs provided for. For those in our community, this helps to provide for their families each week.

Beyond this, Stephen also has two interns from the local technical college working with him for six months. They are working on an album as a part of OneHouse–including weekly translation nights!

As you can see this adding up, it’s busy. Thankfully, we have Lun helping is all of this! Also thankfully, Oak loves the youth; he can join for Planet Earth, and our meals with the youth and translators. It is fun to hear him call for his “big sisters” and “big brothers” when they walk in the door. He also prays for them every night before bed.

That said, having your toddler call the youth his brothers and sisters has a way of making you feel quite old. Then I cringed at one of the girl’s gaudy make-up, and encouraged another not to just stare at their phones all day, and then crashed into bed after doing the dishes at 9:30pm…it’s all making me feel a bit old.

Even feeling old, it is so fun to have this time with the youth every week. They are all in really pivotal seasons, both making big decisions now and having more on the horizon.

Speaking of all the decisions they have on their horizons–leave it to me to have a language blunder & make a story!

We have a prayer board at the front of our church, and last week I was reading it, where it had 26.07.2020 in big letters, and then an announcement. I didn’t know the first word, but the second is “celebration”–used often in wedding ceremonies–and then had two names: Khiang Khaing Win, who comes to youth and works with us, and another name I didn’t know.

I sort of panicked: getting married? She’s only fifteen! And she’s living at the church–the same place Yaminoo lives and is also fifteen. My brain was scrambling. Was she pregnant and they were requiring her to marry? What brought this on?! I hadn’t even heard of a boyfriend. It all seemed so fast, and I was completely overwhelmed. I was already trying to figure out how I’d make a cake in the next week, because I knew I’d be asked to provide the wedding cake.

Then they announced it up front–the following week, a word I didn’t know + the word sounding like wedding; everyone responding happily…I was overwhelmed.

After the service, I ran up to Yaminoo and asked, “She’s getting married? I don’t understand! Who?”
To which Yaminoo responded, “Yes! Khaing Khaing Win! Wait? What?”
“She’s getting MARRIED?”
“NO! WHAT?!”

Turns out the word I didn’t know and kept skipping was the word for baptism. A baptism celebration. No cake needed, no boy involved, and nothing to panic over. And a week’s notice now seemed acceptable 🙄

Yaminoo and I cleared it up, but of course the crazy foreigner lady’s language blunder made the rounds.

But we did have a lovely thing to celebrate this Sunday!

our first family easter.

April 14, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, photos Leave a Comment

I felt this at Christmas, and I feel it again now: three-year-olds are great at experiencing wonder. This makes them such fun companions for holidays: just went we start to feel on repeat, they show us the awe.

I loved seeing Oak’s wonder at Christmas: the tree suddenly in our house, the lights, the friends gathering for songs and food, the presents! He loved reading about the story of Christmas; he woke up every day bounding to the advent to open up a cardboard character.

And for Easter, we found it much the same. He loved washing each other’s feet as we talked about Jesus washing his disciples feet; so much so that we re-enacted it three times. He loved the make-shift tomb that we made, while he made a sad face and said, “Jesus. Oww-oww. Sad.”

We checked on Jesus in the tomb–Lego Batman wrapped in toilet paper–and saw the scary Lego CAT guards still standing firm all day Saturday.

And then Sunday. At first sight he shouted, “OH, NO! WHERE JESUS?”

We promised we’d talk about it after breakfast, when we’d all gather around to read the Easter story. But instead, Dad decided to put his deodorant, where Oak found Jesus in the drawer…this time he came bounding to the shower door, “MOM! JESUS! JESUS!” 😂

We had a really lovely Easter. I haven’t had an Easter with our son before; we’ve only celebrated with family gathered around Sunday lunch a few times in the past decade. So for us, it was just really lovely. We enjoyed reading the story and acting it out with a collection of toys.

We enjoyed a morning walk. We enjoyed a dump truck Easter basket and playing outside in crazy Thailand summer heat. We even enjoyed packing up fifty packages of food for our neighbors.

Thankful for so many things to celebrate, and a cheerful little one to point us to joy!

covid food distributions, take three.

April 13, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, on the house, photos 1 Comment

Week three went better than week two, with the first step being to just have more available. It should be noted that week one we gave out about 300 kilograms of rice; week two we increased to 400 kilograms.

This week we purchased 600 kilograms of rice. Plus oil, eggs, tomatoes, cabbage, cucumbers, carrots, onions, and garlic.

And we decided to include something special for Easter. All the families with kids received a bag with a message from us in Burmese, the Easter story in Burmese, a coloring book, colored pencils and sharpener, clay, marbles, a top, one small toy (UNO or a Rubix cube), a couple handfuls of candy, tea, coffee, and a few treats. Those without kids still received the message from us and Easter story, but we only included coffee, tea, candy and a few snacks.

So we packed a whole lot of things over the past few days.

It went smoother today…I think. I still had three families show up at the door, and only two of the teenagers made it today. And they think we need a new plan for next week; so they might be a bit exhausted of all the hullabaloo themselves. I still found myself in tears, because this is still overwhelming.

But we didn’t run out of rice, so we have some bags to spare as families come this week. We even have some eggs and oil to share.

Hopefully the kids are taking a break from starting at devices to color a picture or read the Easter story or play UNO. {…One can hope. That’s what we’re all leaning into these days, and what a better time that for Easter Sunday?}

grounded and weighted.

March 24, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock 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.

a gift.

March 21, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, schoolhouse 1 Comment

For those of you who have followed along, I think it’s quite obvious we spend many of our days in over our heads.

We live in a border town, working in a poor migrant community, operating in a different language. Now raising our recently-adopted toddler. We have a few small side businesses we support: local bread & flowers sales, sound reinforcement, a sewing project. We teach English to about sixty kids every week; we attend a local church in another language. We provide cajon, guitar, and (new!) singing lessons every week for the youth.

Oh, and we live overseas, trying to keep all of our paperwork up to date while we wait for our son’s paperwork to be completed.

There are two of us.

Yeah, I think we’re in over our heads.

And if you’ve followed us for the past decade, this isn’t a sudden realization. We’ve spent plenty of years praying for help, seeking it, and waiting for it. We have trained up neighbors to help in various ways and delegated whatever we could; even if that meant teaching a new language or skill.

And more than anything, we’ve just let God provide and amaze us and care for us.

And he has, again.

We’d love for you to meet Lun Ngai. We’ve known her for a few years; she’s been our Burmese teacher and my self-defense teacher. She helped teach our Life Skills classes for community dinner last year and helped us translate for our Family Christmas. She’s a dear friend.

And now, she’s a team member!

(Our lives are so odd I’m not sure I know how to put this into text, but I’ll try.)

She recently resigned from her job at a local organization and she’s attending a Bible school part-time. She’s continuing to teach us Burmese weekly, and we began to explore options of how we could work together.

She’s excited about community ministry. She’s excited about women and families and youth. And as of March, she’s excited to join us!

For the foreseeable future, she’ll be attending Bible school classes part-time, and she’ll be teaching both Burmese & English classes around Mae Sot for some income. Since it is difficult to raise support in the local church, we are also transferring some of our monthly support to her, to allow her to serve in our community, too.

She’s already jumped in with the youth and kids; she’s helping with our Summer Book Club and she’s teaching every Saturday at Schoolhouse (more on both of those to come!).

We have been planning a bible study to lead up to Easter that was scheduled to begin last Friday; she’s been helping us prepare and pray through this. It’s now on hold until we know how Covid-19 is handled locally; but we’re still excited to have her help us!

We are beyond thankful to have her with us. While we both operate in Burmese most days, talking about difficult things in another language is challenging and risky. We are really thankful to have another Christian working with us, who speaks Burmese and is the culture in ways we will never be able to know or be.

And so we’re thankful! I don’t really have the words, except to say we’re so excited for where God is going to take this, and my heart is grateful every time she walks in the door.

youthfulness.

March 17, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, on the house, onehouse, photos, playhouse, schoolhouse Leave a Comment

This might be our favorite crew right now. We have been spending more and more time with the youth in the community, and we feel like so much is happening for them. The hope is vibrant.

For many of these students, we’ve known them since they were six or eight. Now they are teenagers, in high school or finishing it up. They are making vital decisions about how they will live; how they will emulate their parents and brothers and sisters or how they won’t. They are working outside of school, and we’re desperate to keep them attending. They are on phones and at football fields after school; we’re doing our best to be involved and be present.

Many of you know of The Reinforcers, students Stephen has been training in live sound reinforcement. As the kids have grown and situations have changed, this is changing often, too. But in short: it’s growing! And it’s amazing.

We currently have three Reinforcers: Pyint Soe & La Point are brothers, and Yedi is a cousin. We’ve all known them a decade! Pyint Soe is taking his final high school exam this week and we’ll be celebrating his graduation this weekend. He’ll be continuing with us in a heavy part-time roll as he waits to get his exam results and decide about university options. La Pyint & Yedi are working extra over the summer with some recording projects, and partnering with two other youth from a local Burmese church. Stephen is teaching recording and coordinating projects every week for all five of them.

We also recently hired another teenager, Thaw Thaw, who is our new Computer Manager. We have three desktop computers available for the older kids to play games and video games together during our open house hours. It’s our effort to keep kids in a safe place, encouraging collective community play, rather than individualized phone time or the nearby questionable hangout.

Thaw Thaw has been learning new games and teaching the younger kids, while managing it all weekly.

This group is now called The Reinforcers+, since it’s a broad sweep! We’re trying to meet with them regularly in a mentoring capacity. We are addressing difficult topics and trying to give them openness into our lives and our decisions, while challenging them to be intentional with theirs. This past month we met to talk about phone and computer safety and addictions.

They all happened to show up in yellow, then voted for us all to match!

Throughout the year we have a weekly English class for the youth, and we’ve expanded it for the summer. Every Monday, we are watching Planet Earth and doing a workbook about what we are learning using a curriculum created by a local non-profit. We then play games and talk together, again providing safe fun and conversation.

The students are also a part of our Summer Book Club, which I am so very excited about. More on that to come.

And beyond that, we do whatever we can do bring the students together for fun! We want them to trust us and know us. There is a youth worship night held in town every month or two, so we’ve been inviting them to come along. They absolutely love it.

There was also a breakdancing competition a few weeks ago that boys went to watch. And Stephen took one of the guys out for ice cream and games yesterday afternoon.

We’re really excited to have these friends in our home a few days through the week, for English and cajon and guitar and worship nights and games. We love that Oak knows their names. We are hopeful for breaking some generational patterns within the community, and we are really hopeful for their futures!

the collective christmas 2019: still coming.

January 14, 2020 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: house church, kelli, photos Leave a Comment

Sometimes it just keeps coming!

Every year [recently], the hotel where we having a swimming membership has a gingerbread house in the lobby. Not just any gingerbread house–a GIANT gingerbread house.

I love it.

I had been to swim once or twice on my own and had seen it, but it had been really cold, so Stephen nor Oak had been by in the week before Christmas. So I put it on the list to stop by. [It was particularly epic this year with a bridge crossing two tables!]

We didn’t make it before Christmas, but since Christmas Day is very relative here, I didn’t think anything of it. We piled into the car after Oak was in pajamas on the 26th and headed over to see it.

WE MISSED IT.

I was sad. Stephen really couldn’t have cared less–he thinks it isn’t as cool as IT IS– and Oak didn’t even know what he was missing. But they made sad faces with me for camaraderie.