kelli – Page 48

miracles.

August 27, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli Leave a Comment

I don’t know if this is just me or if this is a inevitable piece of human nature, but I’m not very good at thinking outside of now.

As I write that, I know I’m particularly bad at this, even if it does come within human nature to some extent. Stephen has told me.

If I am cold, it’s difficult to imagine being truly hot. I am reminded of this every time we return to the States and attempt to purchase clothing for here. There is just no possible way for me to stand in an air-conditioned dressing room, often after being cold in the store and wearing a sweater, and attempt to determine if this piece of clothing is good for Mae Sot: is it light enough? Is it dark enough to cover stains or whatever splashes up on you in the market? Is it modest enough for a conservative culture? I just never know. If I’m not there, I can’t even imagine it.

The same is true for most things. While we are Stateside I find myself wondering if I am crazy or dramatic: is the bed really as hard as I remember? While I sit on this incredibly soft bed, I think I must be remembering it wrong. It just can’t be that hard.

Or I saw ants in a friends home in America, and I thought, That isn’t so bad. Why do I feel so overwhelmed by the ants in Mae Sot? What is different? Maybe I am just crazy there.

Even over the things we see in the neighborhood: as we talked with pastors and friends, I wondered if we were just dramatic. Is it really that sad? It can’t be that traumatic. I must be just a pansy.

And then we come back.

Yes, our bed is that hard. The ants are that overwhelmingly horrible, along with the lizards and cockroaches and everything else. And yes, this is a sad place to live.

I might still be a pansy.

But those things are still true.

————————————-

One of the things that Stephen and I have been mulling over is the line between helplessness and hopelessness.

We are pretty helpless here, if we’re honest.

On a practical level, we are working with people that are paperless and stateless, and we can’t change that. On a spiritual level, we can love well and live as Christ would love, but at the end of the day–we are planters or waterers at best (1 Corinthians 3:6).

And while that sounds depressing, I’m learning to be okay with this. On the whole, humanity is likely helpless in plenty of things we claim to know or control. And beyond that, we serve a sovereign God who I believe is good; and I’m learning to rest in that.

(Emphasis on learning there.)

The thing is, helplessness is a slippery slope to hopelessness. The only difference, really, is the subject: is it me or Him? We either hope in Christ while recognizing our own helplessness, or we give up on both of us.

Some days it is harder than I’d like to admit to stay on the side of hoping in that sovereign, good God we serve.

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Just days before we left we sat across from our pastor as he asked how we felt about returning and what our church family could be praying for.

I told him this: I feel like we are desperate for God to show up.

We felt called to return, and we still feel called to be here. But as we look at what is front of us, we won’t make it without miracles.

We need miracles in our language study. We need miracles in our friendships and English classes and visas and finances. We need miracles to greet everyday with hope and grace and love and joy. We need miracles as we try to straddle two cultures and love on families that we see a few weeks out of the year. We need miracles as we try maneuver our futures. We need miracles for this entire experience, however long it may be, to make any eternal impact on this community we love.

I said I felt like we were walking into something so much bigger than ourselves, and if God doesn’t show up, we’ll just fail. Just miserably fail.

Isn’t that faith? I’m pretty sure that’s what we all concluded with at the same time: isn’t that right where we’re supposed to be?

When I thought that then, and when I write it now: it feels so light for just a split second. It feels so poetic and picturesque, as if its a new discovery, Oh! You go in faith!

And the poetry and beauty continues as you envision all the miracles, all the answered prayers, all the hope.

But shortly after that, I realize that it is my life, and it isn’t that picturesque. It’s still a mess of prayers and wrenched hands and questions and tears. It’s still plane rides and goodbyes and hugs and English classes and ants and hard beds.

It is still choosing to hope in the sovereign, good God of miracles we serve.

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Will you pray with us?

I don’t begin these blogs with the intent of writing something heavy, but I suppose it is obvious that I feel it. I do feel keenly aware of our dependence on miracles; on God showing up, if you will. Not even in our lives on the whole, but in each day and each moment as we go forward.

We have returned because we believe He will be in this, and we are praying for it. We are begging it: His presence, His hope, His miracles, His grace.

And I guess I just ask that you pray with us.

chunky soup & other words of wisdom.

July 31, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli Leave a Comment

We’ve been given a number of wise words throughout a number of meetings over a number of cups of coffee. One piece of wisdom came from a pastor & mentor who was asking about the questions & the tensions we are facing. He mentioned the tension that generally exists from living overseas and between cultures. He said sometimes he found that it was like a chunky soup–sometimes we want it smoother, we want it all blended together; and really we have to leave them to coexist as chunky soup.

Meanwhile, Stephen and I have been reading in Ecclesiastes. In chapter 7:1-4 we read,

“A good name is better than fine perfume,
and the day of death better than the day of birth.
It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart.
Frustration is better than laughter,
because a sad face is good for the heart.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.”

This gave me a sense of rest, that it was okay to hurt and it was okay to mourn. It was okay to think of death as a gift and something to be thankful for.

But then we were sitting in church on Sunday and listening about joy. I don’t remember the passages specifically, but it was about us being heirs of Christ and this being something to be joyful for–if we aren’t joyful, we are missing something.

This was a bit discouraging. Joy has been more of struggle. Sometimes the house of mourning seems easier to find.

Obviously I think far more than necessary, so these were all rumbling around in my head together. And it is starting to make sense to me, this idea of chunky soup holding ideas that seem incongruent and irreconcilable. How do we dwell in the house of the mourning and walk in joy?

For me, it’s beef stew. It’s the carrots next to the beef chunks, not mixing well together but coexisting. {I realize every metaphor breaks down at some point, but bear with me.} In my head, the mourning is the beef. It is tough; you have to gnaw on it. It just takes a little longer. And maybe, it gives the flavor. It gives the depth and meaning to the carrots & potatoes, which are just the little pieces of joy for me.

And they coexist. They make a messy, chunky soup.

____________________________

In yet another conversation over another cup of coffee, I was given this to mull over:
Goals are things we can work toward.
Desires are things we can pray toward.

Today at church we looked at Jesus’ prayer in John 17. In verse 3, he prays, “And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”

The pastor explained that the word “know” used here is the same as when “Adam knew Eve his wife” in Genesis 4, and throughout the Bible when referring to the sexual union of a husband and wife. It is also the same used in Matthew 7:21-23, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.'”

Jesus prayer for us & the definition of eternal life is that we know the only true God.

Sometimes, I question if I truly know Him. Obviously some of us who think we know him do not–we know the way is narrow. Some of us see ourselves as sheep, but will find ourselves among the goats. Some of us will “do many mighty works” in His name and still not know Him.

So I’ve grown up in the church, I’m seeking Him however I know how. I’m finding Him more and more each day. But do I know Him?

And that brings me to the bigger question for me: How do we possibly share the love of Christ with our community in a way that they actually know the only true God? How do possibly communicate truth when we struggle so much to even communicate?

I want them to know Him–in the way I am learning to know him and even more, in the way that is uninhibited, in the way that is eternal life. But ultimately this is a desire. I can set some goals–we can study language day after day, we can try to love the person in front of us well–but ultimately, we can pray. We can pray toward knowing Him and making Him known.

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I’ll state the obvious: this is coming out of another conversation, more words of wisdom, and even more coffee. You’d think we had jet lag or something.

We were just sharing our story of getting here to the States. We were sharing about the day the military came to our community, about losing our friends in a car accident, about moving our neighbors into new houses, and about cooking community meals with our friends. And Stephen brought up something we discovered amidst the chaos of those couple weeks–a little story of hope we had forgotten to share.

There is a man in our community, maybe around our parents’ age. He lives with his wife and they recently took on the responsibility of their grandson when their daughter moved to Bangkok to find work over a year ago. Another daughter, her husband, and another grandson about the same age live in a different house in the community. And still another son & his wife are in a different house.

This man, the father & grandfather, is named Jor Gee. A little over a year ago he wasn’t feeling well, but had some odd symptoms I couldn’t really place. I had a nurse friend come out to see him, and she discovered that his liver was very enlarged. We got him to the hospital, he was diagnosed with cirrhosis, and he was given some medication to sort it out temporarily. But he needed to stop drinking.

Not cut back, but absolutely quit cold turkey.

We told him this in no uncertain terms and in a few different languages through a few different translators. We scared him enough that we were asked daily for the next week or two if he could have coffee, if he could drink water, and if he could chew betel nut.

But he did it. He quit, and he improved quickly.

And it wasn’t until we were moving his house–and his daughters and sons–that we realized just how much he had improved. He is in really good health–physically, yes. He is alive, which is a miracle in some senses. But also as a father and grandfather, he is amazing. He is involved! He is loving. We watch him take his grandsons around the neighborhood on his bicycle day after day; we watch him bicycle to work and faithfully care for them all.

And in the midst of a really difficult time, we watched him provide for his family. We watched him work alongside his son. We watched his grandsons run up to him with joy.

It was just a little glimpse into the restoration that has come here and the redemption we are praying for in eternity.

“that’s a good question.”

July 25, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli Leave a Comment

As we have been dialoging with friends, family, and pastors, we ask a lot of questions. Probably too many. Questions about suffering, poverty, and hope. Questions about tomorrow and eternity, absolute truth and cultural truths, joy and pain.

I’m not sure I could count how many times we’ve been told, “That’s a good question.”

Sometimes that makes you want to scream.

But really, all of our questions keep taking me back to trust. Trust in a few absolute truths. Trust that God is good; trust that God is God. Trust that He is big.

And maybe trust that I am small. Trust that I don’t know goodness or even which way is up sometimes. I don’t know why there is suffering, how I fit into it, or what I am to do about it.

And apparently I have a lot of good questions.

_______________________

As I chatted with mom over breakfast today (so much to be thankful for in that sentence!), she listened to my questions. She asked some, too, and we contemplated the unknowns. And she wisely concluded, “Isn’t it that we keep coming back to the garden of Eden? We still want the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. We want to know if we are right; what is good and what is wrong; which way we should go.”

_______________________

It’s messy to think that all the unanswered questions just come back to God being big. It’s messy to think that it is just trust; that it is simply a choice to believe the few absolutely truths.

It frustrates me a little, if I’m honest. But then I also love it. Isn’t that the beauty of it?

Would I want to serve a God that wasn’t bigger than me? That wasn’t worthy of being trusted with suffering?

Isn’t my smallness and His bigness the beauty of it?

_______________________

So we’ll keep asking questions. We’ll probably be told a few more times that we over-analyze and over-think. And hopefully we’ll hear “that’s a good question” a few more times in our lives.

May we never stop asking questions; may we never stop coming back to trust.

9 august.

July 22, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli Leave a Comment

We are here! There are delicious things to eat, soft beds to rest on, and conversations to be understood! There are more people to see and things to be done than there is time for. There are way too many stories and smiles to share.

But we are here, and we are thankful for that!

And we’d love to see as many people as we can.

Because we are here a short time and because we are intentionally focused on seeking counsel and rest, we won’t be traveling too much or meeting up with friends for meals and coffee. Instead, we’re having an open house at my parents’ home, and we’d love to invite you to come!

9 August 2014
2pm-9pm
20800 Pansey Road, Little Rock

This is a great opportunity to catch up and swap stories, share photographs and see growing families! We’d love for those of you in Little Rock and surrounding areas to be there.

love snack.

July 14, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli, photos Leave a Comment

On Saturday–twenty four hours before we were leaving–I was up early to get the house cleaned from Friday’s community dinner and finish packing and preparing to go. Jee Miew came over just after 8am and asked if I could drive her and a friend to the market.

I was a little confused why, but she just kept asking, so I agreed. It was a little chance to spend some time with these ladies, and I figured we’d sort out our details later. And by later, I mean after midnight when we were just aching to go to sleep, but that’s neither here nor there!

About 9:30 three of us piled into our little Zuk and headed to the market. I was trying to put the pieces together of what they needed and why now. It was pretty unclear through the whole trip: they bought large amounts of rice flour, MSG, sugar, oil, ghee, and what looked like sand.

I was pretty confused, but figured it wasn’t really vital. We spent the time together, laughed about how I shouldn’t get confused and end up at Mae Tao, and called it a trip.

I went back to finish packing and cleaning.

About three hours later, Jee Miew came to the door. She said we should come “look at this–come look!” We found a group of men and women gathered around a huge fire and a huge wok, stirring what looked like a large glob of taffy.

It was epic. It was so sticky, so thick, and so hot. They were using all of their strength to stir this and broke two spoons in the process.

And with much explaining, we learned that they were making a Burmese snack for us to take back to America and share with our friends and family! All the ingredients they had purchased that morning were for this snack for us to take back with us. They had been cooking and stirring over the fire for three hours!

And we sat while they continued to work for another hour, mixing in a few more ingredients while the substance got thicker and thicker.

And then we were served up a plate to try.

The snack itself actually had a great, coconut-y flavor. It was incredibly sweet, and you did have to ignore the large amounts of oil.

You could tell it was a delicacy of sorts–all the kids were excited for a bite and the adults were wiping clean the pot and licking off the spoons. Not something they make or get to have everyday.

And in the end, we were delivered two HUGE containers of this snack to take back with us to America! A whopping 14.5 pounds worth of it, in fact!

We were a little worried about taking it all back with us, namely because it was a suspicious looking substance in an unmarked container. What would TSA think? And will this container even hold? How will we ever get that sticky, oily substance out of our bags, clothes, and shoes if it spills?

But, y’know, they had sacrificed so much to make this for us–a large amount of money in their world, a day of labor, and whole lot of love.

I put a container into a Ziploc and then into a trash bag. I put it in a box with Ziplocs filled with air to pad it. And then we strapped it into our checked bag, with a few prayers that it stays sealed and we aren’t questioned.

Within five minutes of getting in the door at Chiang Mai Airport, we were pulled aside to inspect it.

Hmm…this love snack could make this trip interesting!

i get by with a little help my friends.

July 14, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli, photos 1 Comment

We had such a lovely day on Friday. It was full, and to be honest, it isn’t good when you aren’t sure when you wake up how you will fit in time for meals. But it was a day full of really lovely moments and memories.

We visited around to the different families and homes on Thursday afternoon to invite everyone to a community dinner on Friday. We explained that we were going back to America for a month, but that we would be coming back. And we also introduced the lovely Bex, a volunteer who is staying in our house while we are going and taking on our chaos.

These visits were sad. It was hard to tell people we were leaving; we could tell they were worried. They would ask: what do we do if it floods? Bex will be there, and she is happy to help, too. That’s why we’ve asked her to stay in our home. What if I need medicine? Bex will help with that! What if the police come again? Well, Bex will do the same thing we do–very little, but the best we can.

In that moment, I was so grateful that God provided Bex here, now, and looking for a way to plug into a local community. There is still fear: we don’t know who will be there when we come back and what changes will have happened. But we are trying to rest in the fact that we are doing what we feel God has told us to do, and we have to trust that He’ll fill in the blanks for us.

And while we wait, we give good hugs and throw huge dinners!

Friday morning Bex & I headed off to the market with two ladies, Thida–an amazing mom of seven–and Jee Miew, who is now helping me with Karen translation all the time since Mong Ey moved a bit further away.

It was a fun little adventure. I gave Jee Miew some money–about $90 to feed 150 or so people–and told them to go for it. They knew how many we were hoping to feed, and we requested both meat and vegetables. They gave back about $15, and we came home with piles of food, including 15 kilograms of raw chicken to stuff in our fridge until that afternoon.

The market is a pretty crazy place, and this was the first time I had driven through with a car. I usually take a motorbike or bicycle, and do my best to park somewhere nearby and walk. It’s just absolutely chaos with all the vendors oozing into the already narrow streets, with pedestrians, bicycles, motorbikes, motorbike taxis, tuk tuks, carts, and cars.

By the time we were leaving, I just wanted to get out of the over-crowded areas, so I told Jee Miew that I was just going to get away from the people and we might take a longer way home. I made a couple more turns until I knew where we were, but then noticed we were near Mae Tao, the primary clinic where I take everyone. I asked her in Karen if I could show Bex where that was, since she didn’t know yet.

Somewhere, though, I didn’t say all this. I headed towards Mae Tao and pointed it out to Bex from the road, and then turned around to head back to our house. Jee Miew and Thida were just rolling with laughter, leaving Bex & I confused.

I learned later that Jee Miew thought I had gotten confused trying to get away from the market, and somehow just started heading towards Mae Tao since that is where I usually drive our neighbors. She thought it was absolutely hilarious that I just got confused and drove to Mae Tao. And this is now our inside joke. When we get in the car together or when I would head off somewhere, she’d shout to me: Don’t get confused and just take them to Mae Tao!

I’m not sure I really understand the humor of it all, but I love that she laughs so hard and that we have a little joke between us!

When we got back from the market, I headed off to visit my Karen teacher and to see her three month old twins before we would be gone for a month. It started pouring as I headed out the door, so a number of women were gathered under our porch. One sweetly ran me out to the car with her umbrella, and I just smiled with joy. It was just a little reminder of how we help each other out and look out for each other, and somehow we all get by with that little help from friends!

The cooking commenced about 1pm, starting with most of the women and children chopping vegetables and spices.

They don’t usually use cutting boards, so they chop right into their fingers. This is terrifying for me, being the opposite of what I was taught, so I would use my thumb to slice. Either way, I was working with a butter knife and lacking a cutting board or counter, and they found it hilarious how horribly my onions came out!

The men & boys helped to “clean” the chickens by the well (water from the same water table that we have found hundreds of colonies of E.coli in) and chop it.

And then everyone collectively cooked and spiced. Instead of buying rice this time, we just asked each family to bring a pot of cooked rice to contribute to a community bowl.

The kids were a little crazy to wrangle for the four hours it took to prepare all the food. We started with games and toys, moved on to coloring, and then commenced with watching Cars on the iPad. I laid out a row of books and instructed everyone to stay behind the line, not to touch the iPad or speakers. I came in a few minutes later to find Pyi So sitting right in front of the line.

They enjoyed the movie, though, and it kept a fewer number of kids near the fire!

Bex was so great with the kids and so helpful. She was also great at taking everything in stride and will be perfect for fitting into the community while we’re gone! After we left Sunday at 10am, we got a text from her at 1:30pm saying, “…already had our first little medical emergency blood everywhere lol so been an eventful afternoon…”

Pyi So has just figured out how to pose for the camera and now absolutely loves to see himself!

Before dinner, Stephen headed up a small meeting with the adults to make sure everyone understood that we were going, but also that we were coming back! He introduced Bex again to everyone, and we gave out little cards with her photo, name in Burmese, and phone number. We also gave them a little calendar showing the dates we’d be traveling, with a little airplane on the day we’ll arrive back to Mae Sot.

At the bottom, we gave them a schedule for some activities we’re going to begin when we get back: we planned English classes three days a week, with once class for 0-4 year olds, one class for adults, and two classes each for 5-9 year olds and 10-14 year olds.

I am also going to start making trips to the market once a week, where I can take a couple women with me. Our hope is that we can encourage them to coordinate together and buy things in bulk to save money. It also gives me a regular outing with some of the women. And last, one morning a week we’ve invited over the moms & kids-too-young-for-school to play.

This was all explained into a schedule so they know when we’ll start when we get back and what to expect every week. They were so excited about the English classes coming to fruition, and overall just seemed to encouraged to see that we are not only coming back, but we are excited to come back. I think this helped all of us to look forward and feel like things will be okay, rather than be fearful of how they might change.

And then food was served, or inhaled, and the chaos really began!

I would pick off little pieces of chicken or potato to give to Jor Lay, and he absolutely loved it! He’s such a ham.

And then we crashed. We grabbed dinner out–which we always do after community dinners to sort of close the doors on the chaos and prevent our house from being flooded with “help” in the clean up process. And then we crashed, really thankful that God gave us such a good day and such good community around us.

We get by with a little help from our friends!

more random than most.

July 14, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli Leave a Comment

This post is more random than most. I just have a few thoughts swirling in my head.

I have two thoughts on language learning:

First, it is very, very difficult to utilize a secondary language while driving in a foreign country. It is possible that it is difficult driving in any foreign country, but I don’t know that. I do know that it is very difficult to maneuver the narrow streets and unexpected, not-so-rule-following driving habits that surround you while you try to understand the bullets of words coming at you or think of that word you just can’t seem to pull from who-knows-where.

Second, it is very fun to dream in another language. Kind of euphoric, like you almost didn’t understand your own dream, but you did!

And, perhaps even more random: When people carry fans on the back of their motorbikes or piled in the back of trucks, I love–really, genuinely find such joy–in the fact that the blades spin in the wind, without being plugged in! It just feels like we’ve beaten electricity. I followed a girl on her motorbike with a large pink fan attached to the back the other day, and I’m still thinking about it.

make-up kit.

July 11, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli, photos Leave a Comment

The other day three little girls brought by a make-up kit, and it seemed the best thing to do was just go along with it.

Would the 10 baht make-up destroy my face? Probably.
Would I be able to get this wax off? Not without some patience.
Would the shop owner look at me oddly when I made my purchases? Most definitely.
Were the girls overjoyed to smear it all over my face? Of course!

A before photo that morning. Clearly we needed some more color!

This is Zen Yaw, a nephew to the little girl in pink and a cousin to the little girl in red. They are his primary caregivers, leaving them to either not attend school or take turns every other day. We are working on that and how to help, but obviously he is not a big fan of white people. It’s a little difficult to just take him–even for a photo!

recently.

July 8, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli, photos Leave a Comment

Because sometimes you just can’t help but be catching up.

_______________________

Every day looks different around here. This particular morning, Stephen was out to breakfast with a friend, and I was sitting down to bowl of yogurt and granola. Since we were up early enough, we had visitors before school.

The kids walk to school together around 7:45am. From about 7:30 to 7:45, we have kids popping in and out to say hello as they wait for the crew to be ready. They come in and plop their lunch baskets on the table. They’ll sometimes play with magnets, sit on laps for a moment, or pull out a quick puzzle.

And on some days like this one, they said they hadn’t had breakfast when I asked. I offered some yogurt and granola. They really liked it.

And then before long they are called to go and head off to school.

Mornings like this are very nice.

_______________________

A few weekends back, a neighbor family bought a bunny. We learned pretty quickly that they bought a female bunny and intended for little Kayak to get her pregnant.

She was pretty cute. She had one ear that stuck up and one that flopped down. We gave her the name Lucy.

We did try to put her and Kayak together, but he sort of panicked a bit. Did you know bunnies can growl? They can. Our sweet little Kayak kept trying to bite Lucy, and when Stephen picked him up, Kayak bit him and left teeth marks.

We tried, but decided it might not be the best idea.

Either way, the kids were very happy about “Kayak two!” We are pretty sure they think “Kayak” is English for bunny rather than a name. Whoops.

_______________________

We got a little grill this week and used it for the first time to make burgers on 4 July!

Yes, it’s very little.

Yuh Meh Oo was helping us cook and took the phone to take some photos. This is one of about forty!

We also made a cake for a 4 July party, and the kids helped to whip the icing. Afterward, I told them they could each was their hands with soap and then stick one finger in for a lick.

_______________________

More children experimenting with the art and error and phone photography.

_______________________

After the said 4 July party, I was going to jump in the shower before bed. I changed into my towel and headed toward the bathroom, but was distracted–this happens often–by Kayak. He was sitting in his cage but kind of antsy; I wanted to get him some sand to sit in.

On the top shelf in the kitchen I have a basket of plastic containers and jars that I use. I reached up, took out the container I needed and went to put it back. On the way, however, my towel started to fall, and with four large windows in the kitchen, I shoved the basket up there and grabbed for my towel.

I didn’t get the basket on far enough. It fell, along with all the plastic and glass jars. The glass jars and made locally and are quite cheap glass. They were all hitting my head and shoulders, shattering everywhere. I was up on my tip toes, with shards of glass sticking to my feet, my arms, and my head. Kayak was also just to the right of me, and I was scared glass was just pummeling him.

I wasn’t able to look up or try to catch anything for fear of glass getting into my eye, so–with great logic, I’m sure–I screamed. I screamed and screamed while tons of glass hit the ground.

And I continued to scream until Stephen just lifted me out of the glass mess and set me down across the kitchen.

He then proceeded to sweep up about ten broken jars worth of tiny little shards of glass. Whoops.

_______________________

And this–proof that despite having no children of our own, we have so, so many children in our lives!

jor lay.

July 2, 2014 by Stephen & Kelli Spurlock Filed Under: kelli, photos Leave a Comment

Meet Jor Lay.

We’ve known him since the day he was born. He was delivered to our doorstep during a flood when he was five days old; I held him until the mother was delivered a few minutes later on an inner tube. The father and older children helped to get valuables and the littles out from the rising waters.

He was one of the first little babies to like us, and he was often left for me to hold. He learned our names, he learned high fives. He peed and vomited on our floor more times than I could count.

And now he will be two years old next month. He ran in and out of the chaos while we helped tear down their bamboo hut and rebuild it half a kilometer down the road just four weeks ago.

Since they are just a half a kilometer down the road, we usually see at least one member of their nine-member-family every day. The kids are often around to play or to see friends.

But in some ways, half a kilometer is really far. They used to be just steps away. We used to see everyone day after day, at wee hours of the morning and wee hours of the night.

Today, I was making bread in the kitchen when I heard a little voice shouting our names.

I’m getting better at recognizing, but I hadn’t heard this one in awhile. And he’s pretty little to be walking over by himself. I shouted to Stephen anyway, “Is that Jor Lay?”

Sure enough. He had walked over with his mom and five-year-old sick brother, Jor Gee, to visit! We sat outside chatting for a minute, got some medicine for Jor Gee, and gave high fives and hugs.

Apparently he had asked for us all morning, saying in Burmese, “Kelli Stephen house go!”

So they came. And we loved it.

And it was an answer to prayer.

Just hours earlier I was praying for God to show us the ministry we have here. Sometimes it feels like we are just crazy: to live here, to make this our lives and now our work, to think for a second that it makes a difference. To hope that maybe, just maybe they might see Christ in our daily lives.

The doubt creeps in–more days than I’d like to admit–and all the decisions we made boldly suddenly look pale. Today was one of those days. I just prayed that in the next couple weeks before we go to the States that we might see the hope of why we live here, why we will come back, and what He has planned for us ahead.

And then Jor Lay came, and we saw the relationships with these beautiful families. We saw their beautiful smiles. I was reminded of how my heart jumps when I hear voices I haven’t heard in a few days!

Because God is good, even through little bitty almost-two-year-olds.