I haven’t written much since we’ve been back in Mae Sot.

And to be honest, I’m not sure if its because there are too many thoughts in my head, or too few.

In many ways its the same: the same effort to take time for the kiddos across the street, that at times make me want to say “buh bye” in a syrupy sweet voice and shut my door; the same effort to embrace the opportunities we have living here–shopping at markets, communicating without words, and celebrating simplicity–while aching for a few complications of the West; the same effort to live life while poverty watches you to evaluate every step you take.

So perhaps there are equally as many thoughts, but few fresh ones.

I can say this: I still love Mae Sot, and I do love our lives here. I do still sense the lack of community–or perhaps the shift, which leaves a hole in the articulated, voiced community I’m familiar with. I do still see things changing constantly, and hope keeping everyone alive. And I still love the gorgeous hugs from beautiful little girls with newly shaved heads.

I didn’t know our office had powdered creamer.

I went to make coffee yesterday and discovered powdered creamer on the counter. And when I was a kid, it was one of our jobs to add creamer to dad’s coffee, and then we could take a bite of the powdered creamer out of the little brown glass jar.

One bite.

Mom preferred it to be half a spoonful, but I always pushed it to be full.

And yesterday, I added one small spoonful to my coffee. And then I took a bite before I stirred the coffee.

Loved it.

Probably horrible for you, not natural at all; and really, in my head I know it’s probably disgusting.

But I loved it. And I had another bite in the afternoon and another one this morning.

“I like your face. You remember I say before?”

Yes, I do remember her saying this before.  I thought it was an odd compliment then, too.

“An answer was coming,
along with an adventure.
I just needed to be patient, trusting,
and watchful as it unfolded…”

–from Shake, Shake the Mango Tree by Mallory McCormick

…Remember this post?

[vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/35314237 w=400&h=227]

Well, this time I was making hummus. And it was two girls that asked for something to eat. The same things ran through my head: the politics, the mouse asking for milk, and the verse.

And I still just couldn’t turn away.

I had half of a pita left over from dinner the night before, so I broke it in two, gave it to them, and turned back to my cooking.

But if you give a mouse a cookie, he not only asks for a glass of milk, but tells all of his friends where he got it.

But I only had that one piece of bread. So I began handing out pieces of candy.

And the whole neighborhood showed up. Kids I hadn’t even seen before, suddenly here at my back door. And Stephen laughing at me from the kitchen table.

It’s amazing how candy can draw kids from great distances. The idea of not taking candy from strangers? A foreign concept here.

One little girl about six was even striking up deals: if she showed the kids where to find candy, she could take a cut. They get the two pieces from me, and she takes one as they turn away.

Get candy, get candy, get candy.

It’s not always hot here. And you don’t have to sweat every day.

And though we are sorry we lied and hate to be wrong, we are loving it!

We’ve officially found our favorite time of year. We don’t have to turn on the air, and we don’t have to have fans blowing in every direction. Instead we wear sweaters from about 5pm to 10am. We cozy up under blankets at night. I wear long sleeves on my runs in the morning. We rush into the office for warm coffee in the morning after a very cold motorbike ride. It warms up during the day, so weekend afternoons can still involve swimming.

It’s beautiful.

The only downside? Our water heater for the shower can only heat up a certain amount: if you start with warm water, it can make it hot. But if you start with cold, as we are on these beautiful mornings, it can’t even get it to lukewarm.

And thus, we could see our breath in the bathroom today. I guess that just made me more excited to get into my sweater!

 

One of the many blessings of visiting America was having a chance to purchase clothes that fit. We came back with one large suitcase full of clothing, all in our size, ready for us to sweat in every day of the next year or two.

In light of these purchases, we thought we would purge our closets of the clothes we no longer need in an effort to keep things simple. We each chose a small pile of things and put them into a garbage bag. We then took them outside and placed them beside the trash can nearest to our neighbors’ yard, where we usually set items that are clearly of value to them.

One woman watched Stephen set it down and quickly went over to grab it. We watched from the window as she walked toward her house.

She opened the bag while she walked, and we heard a loud gasp. She then began to run into her house, with quite a few women following, and they each came out a few minutes later with a few treasures.

As of this past week, the Karen National Union has officially signed a ceasefire with the Burmese government.

{Please take a minute and let that resonate.
Please let a warm, thankful smile spill onto your face.}

The Karen have been the most determined in their defense, and they have resisted and fought the Burmese government and military for decades. They have also set the tone for resistance in many ways, and since pursuing a ceasefire, other ethnic groups have followed into talks and now into signing.

We had a long staff meeting today discussing the hopes, fears, and dreams that are encompassed in this event.

And as we discussed it, you can sense the deep hope. It is a step forward; it is a reason to be excited. It could be the horizon of something beautiful. This could be the beginning of the end.

But, a ceasefire was signed a few years back right around the time of Karen New Year.  The celebration that year was huge as Karen from all over came to celebrate.

The party was interrupted with gunfire and a brutal attack.

One of our staff members was actually present at this New Years celebration many years ago; and her excitement today was through teary eyes.

And now, more than ever, we are praying.

We are praying for the Karen; we are praying for freedom. We are praying for Partners to be wise and discerning. We are praying for hope to resonate in the hearts of the Karen, for prayer to come forth out of hope, and for hope to not put them to shame.

“Home is an illusion we all chase.”

My roommate said this in conversation a few years back, and it has continued to reverberate in my mind over the past few days.

I have no idea which feels more like home, America or here.

But I can tell you what did feel like home:
being received into twenty-five hugs from friends and family at the airport in Little Rock.
being received into twenty-five hugs from the neighborhood children on our dusty little street.

Both were absolutely beautiful.

And then weeks went by without a word.

The past weeks have gone quickly, but have been so good. There have been so many hours spent with family, a few hours with friends, and even fewer hours resting in an exceptionally soft bed.

And now we’re flying out tomorrow.

Erwin McManus once related in a lecture, “I am on the board of a seminary where they have a psychiatric wing, and they wanted to send psychologists around the world to work with missionaries.  They were coming in telling us how they were going to spend millions of dollars to bring mental health to all of our missionaries. And I couldn’t hold in; I said, ‘No! Don’t do it! We don’t need healthy missionaries. We need missionaries who are delusional, who are out of their minds, who are insane.  There are two of them among ten million and they think they can change that whole city. You make them normal, healthy, sane and they’re going home to Kansas tomorrow.’”

Let me first say that I don’t particularly like being considered “missionaries” to Thailand. This seems to glorify the fact that we are simply living in a different country, but living life in much the same way. Yes, it has been wonderful to be among family; to have coffee with friends.  It was fun to understand conversations, read signs, and have salad. America is so soft: comfortable couches, cloud-like beds, painted walls, carpeting under your feet, cozy sweaters, warm fires. But the reality of it is, even when we lived here, we still lived in the Asian district of town; I still spent alot of my time with people I couldn’t communicate with; I was still served questionable dishes on multiple occasions. God has given us a love for the Karen and Burmese that transcends beyond the group living across the street in Mae Sot.

Even so, I have found great comfort in this quote.

Perhaps because insanity seems closer than I’d prefer as I plan to get on a plane to return to a place that I know is uncomfortable; where we are much more isolated; where our sisters are miles and miles away from us.

Perhaps because I know I need to remain insane enough to believe that we are part of something that makes this worth it; that all things left behind are somehow justified in the hope of playing one small part in God’s plan. I know that there is a level of insanity to believing that playing Go Fish with our neighbor children is somehow communicating Christ.

Here’s to insanity.