“I came here tonight to be congratulated. But today when I visited the Red Cross camps, overwhelmed by the flood of refugees fleeing from the horror of Kazakhstan, I realized I don’t deserve to be congratulated. None of us do. Let’s speak the truth. And the truth is, we acted too late. Only when our own national security was threatened did we act.

“Radek’s regime murdered over 200,000 men, women, and children, and we watched it on TV. We let it happen. People were being slaughtered for over a year and we issued economic sanctions and hid behind a rhetoric of diplomacy.

“How dare we? The dead remember. Real peace is not just the absence of conflict, it’s the presence of justice.

“And tonight, I come to you with a pledge to change America’s policy. Never again will I allow our political self-interests to deter us from doing what we know to be morally right. Atrocity and terror are not political weapons and to those who would use them, your day is over. We will never negotiate. We will no longer tolerate, and we will no longer be afraid. It’s your turn to be afraid.”

Stephen’s been enjoying quite a few movies over the past few days of being sick, and one of them was Air Force One. This speech is given at the beginning of the movie by the US President, played by the wonderful Harrison Ford, and it got us thinking about Burma. We just thought it was interesting to see the similarities: the refugee camps, the economic sanctions, the letting it happen. We predict it will probably play out same, where the world will remain uninvolved until they feel threatened themselves.

We also decided it was a pretty convincing movie, and we’d probably vote for Harrison Ford if he ran.

 

We drove back from Mae Sariang today after finishing up with our last team. It’s about a five hour drive along a shady border, from one shady little border town to another.

And it was uncomfortable.

Stephen was on day three of being sick with fever, chills, and stomach pains. He was uncomfortable.

Due to his discomfort, I was driving. And thus I was uncomfortable.

I hate driving. And I really hate driving in the rain. I know Dad would have been so proud–I was in and out of 4wd; I was climbing hills in low gears and using low gears to avoid using the brakes; I was checking my mirrors and extra aware. But I was very uncomfortable.

And the other woman in the car with us–I can’t tell you most of her story, but she hasn’t spent much time in a car. We knew this early on, when she took off her shoes before she got in the car, and we nearly left without them. She was loaded up with Dramamine and given about ten plastic bags before we left. She then spent the entire trip with a death grip on the back of the passenger seat and her head against the seat trying to sleep. She wasn’t comfortable.

It was a long day. We were thankful to get home. Or here–whatever this is–and be more comfortable.

This past Saturday, Stephen and I headed out early to scour the clothing stores of Mae Sot. We walked the “downtown area”–it’s called this locally, but I really think it’s quite a stretch from any picture in your mind that phrase creates–and promised to go in each store that had clothes, no matter how unpromising it seemed.

We were on the hunt for a bridesmaids dress to be Skyped in to my best friend’s wedding. The criteria: gray dress that fit.

Harder than it seems.

Dresses aren’t too common around town, really. And once you find a dress, gray–without sequins, writing, or other embellishments–is rare. And then to future complicate it all, my size is entirely too much to ask for, apparently.

Let’s just say there were significant amounts of laughter when I asked for this dress in another color or this dress in another size.

I did find two things while we were out, both of which were purchased in size extra large.

Thus, a special order was made today. My sweet friend, Yim, came with me to the shop today and helped order a dress.

It was shockingly quick. I brought in a photo from online, she looked at it and said she could make it. When I asked for gray fabric, I had two to choose from: one that was business-like almost tweed texture, and another that was silky & shiny. Silkier & shinier than I usually choose, mind you, but the winner all the same.

She then measured me quickly, and we discussed a few technicalities.

And it should be ready 25 July, just five days before the wedding. And if all goes according to plan, it will be gray, fitting, lovely, and $33–not cheap for Mae Sot, but cheaper than ordering a dress from America and having it shipped to Mae Sot!

I can’t believe this girl is getting married in just 19 days.

And more than that, I really can’t believe I’m not going to be there for it.

I’ve been dreaming about it recently. I have had quite a few dreams where I’m at her wedding or talking with her about it. I’ve even had one dream where I was at another friends wedding and thinking in my mind that I would rather have been at Laurel’s.

And now, the decision that was hard to make three months ago is only getting harder.

I was really sure this was what was best. We knew we’d miss out on things. We knew that this wouldn’t be easy.  We knew we didn’t have the money to go back this soon. We knew it wasn’t wise and would make this whole process of adjusting just that much harder.

But as I ordered that dress today, I began to wonder if I’ll regret not being there. If I’ll regret trying to make the wise decision.

Would it be unwise? Or would it be loving well?  Would it be trusting?

Were there times that Jesus loving people looked unwise?

[And maybe there were, and maybe I’m still not supposed to be there.]

I’m really not sure. And I’m not sure what my not knowing can do but simply admit that this is going to be hard.

And that it’s only the beginning.

 

Sing, weary children, for we are fighting the victory.

We peered out the window this morning to evaluate the rainfall overnight and instead saw that corn had been transferred and re-planted into our garden!

The goal of the garden was to both work together and to equip our neighbors with the land, tools, and seeds necessary to work on their own. We knew we’d be out of town and busier some weeks with teams, making us unable to keep up with everything. Thus, they have a key to our gate so they can work on the garden any time.

This, though, was the first time they went and did some work by themselves, which we were so excited to see.

We went over into their yard earlier this week to deliver a huge roll of plastic that Partners had no use for. One of the staff suggested they might need it for their roofs during rainy season, which are compiled from a collection of leaves and trashed plastic or metal. And then they come over into ours. We’re slowly crossing boundaries and communicating through actions.

Recently, the relationships we are building with this community across the street have become the most encouraging part of being here.  It’s been trying, too, and we’ve had to scrub crayon off the side of our house three times, pick up large amounts of litter each week, and throw away the destroyed hammock that used to hang in our yard. Even so, it’s wonderful.  The kids play on our front porch nearly every day, playing this rubber band game with the lines on our tile. They run to hug us when we leave and form welcome lines on the road when we drive by. The backup to the sides of the road and wave shouting “hello!” and “goodbye!” at the same time. (I don’t think they understand when to use either one.) And each day, amidst leaving all their trash, they are sure to sweep off our front steps.

It’s really lovely, and I can’t even describe it. As long as we’ve worked with the Karen and other resettled refugees in the States, I’ve never experienced so little communication. I’ve never been where I can’t even ask their names. But we’re friends.