The House Collective

treasures.

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

2 Corinthians 4:7-10

But we have this treasure in jars of clay
to show that the surpassing power belongs to God
and not to us.
We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed;
perplexed, but not driven despair;
persecuted, but not forsaken;
struck down, but not destroyed;
always carrying in the body the death of Jesus,
so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.

As I read this verse yesterday, I immediately thought of the treasure all around me: our community.

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Flour & Flowers is a treasure. I never thought we’d make it this far, and we’re over three years in. Somehow we’re weekly providing salaries to four families by driving around town with a car load of flower bouquets and bread. Those relationships, the miracle of it making profit and creating a savings plan–these are treasures.

And it rests in jars of clay. It rests on a foreigner market that flows in and out. We are losing and gaining customers nearly every month. It rests on a small store in the market that may or may not have the exact ingredients we need; or might have a different size pan this month, or perhaps a new type of flour. It rests on changing weather and a kitchen that is practically outside in that weather, so that some weeks the bread rises like a charm and other weeks we’re re-doing batches into the afternoon. It rests on second language learning that sometimes leaves us going in circles. It rests on women who haven’t completed high school, and sometimes keeping count of how many tortillas they’ve rolled or writing down the time the bread started rising is a challenge. (Just this week, the paper where they are to write the rising start time said “40 minutes,” and I had to ask, “But what hour?” It took us awhile to sort that.) It rests on changing government and laws; it rests on families dealing with the challenges of poverty.

We’re three years into me wondering if we could possibly keep this up every week. So that every week, when we finish and the books balance and salaries are handed out, I know that God made it happen again.

___________________

The Breakfast Club just keeps growing. More kids, more days, more meals.

Every evening I wonder if it’s too much for Thida to be making breakfast for fifty every morning at 6. Every morning she awes me with her grace–her uncanny ability to predict portions, her kindness to the kids, her ability to check in on so many while serving so many others. Her checklists of each kid, while also reminding me of who needs to go to the clinic and who needs medicine.

And she reminds me if I forgot to give money for Aung Moe, the blind man in our community, eat, she reminds me, which has happened more often than it hasn’t…🤦🏼‍♀️

Because while Breakfast Club is amazing–a treasure, for sure–it rests in jars of clay. It rests on funding from around the world, on records that need to be kept up, on early, tired mornings.  It rests on a sacrificed kitchen.  It rests on Thida, whom I love and thank God for regularly, and who is herself a reminder of God’s surpassing power.

___________________

The kids still come to play in the afternoon. (And they still ask every morning if we’re playing at 4 o’clock.)

It’s a treasure to see them pile in the door for Storytime; to see them clap and dance to If You’re Happy & You Know It. It’s a treasure to hear them sing Praise Ye The Lord outside our door on Saturday. It’s a treasure to see them learn to say thank you. It’s a treasure to see them master Minecraft and the alphabet. It’s a treasure to see them beat me at Mario Kart. It’s a treasure to see them win at Memory with pride and confidence. It’s a treasure to watch this girl come in every day to grab a pillow and a blanket and curl up on the floor.

But it’s one big jar of clay. It rests on me not losing my temper when one child throws a toy at another child. It rests on my explaining in broken Burmese why we don’t bite each other. It rests on getting that crayon off the wall. It rests on cleaning up water off the floor and having specific towels for cleaning up after un-diapered kids.

___________________

Many of our most treasured moments of the past 7+ years have come in medical & trauma needs: women going into labor and babies seizing; women running from their machete-clad husbands; bloody wounds and broken fingers; stitches and daily bandage changes. In these moments, there are treasured conversations, treasured assurances, prayers and miracles.

But it all rests in jars of clay. I hate stitches, and they make me horribly queasy. I hate blood. I hate changing wounds. I hate hospitals. I am one big mess of clay when it comes to all of these, and yet–it’s a reminder.

___________________

Light of Love Church is a treasure in our lives. This week I got to watch these two teenagers–off to the left in yellow & red–sing and worship together, while Stephen played guitar with the band, and two teenage boys ran sound by themselves.

And it sits in a jar of clay as we attempt to get everyone there before ten (and often “tiptoe in the back” with fifteen kids). I am a jar of clay when another kid gets shoved out of the back of the car on his birthday and eats concrete.

As I sing the Burmese lyrics and we pray together as a congregation, I’m often feeling the treasure. When we’re halfway through the sermon and I’m struggling to make the words into anything…pulling out every little word I understand: I aware of my clay, breaking.

 ___________________

Our newest treasure is The Reinforcers. As we are struggling to finalize a logo and create some promotional materials for around town, they had three gigs over the past two weekends. It’s working and the guys are doing amazing.

But it is in jars of clay, too.

We received incredible gifts that made it possible to purchase the speakers–but not without usually Thailand-level difficulties of three hours on Bangkok public transit to sign a credit card slip, or picking up the delivery in multiple trips to town because the Mae Sot branch office offers “no service.”

We haven’t gotten the correct modem in the mail yet, so we’re currently using an old one we had. It works sometimes, but two times gave us a scare that it wasn’t going to. But when it worked in two last-minute miracles? A treasure.

Stephen had to bike home with one of them at 11pm on Friday, after a day that started at 6am, because the kid is still only 15. His mom waiting for him at the door with a huge smile of gratitude: a treasure.

We don’t know how it will all unfold; how popular it will be; how it will balance with the boys’ school and exam schedules. But we know it’s a treasure to get the time with them, to see it working. And we know that every little unknown will point us to it all resting on the surpassing power of God.

 ___________________

This little community holds so many treasures for us. And we can’t control or handle or manage one of them.

We are afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down. {Read: This isn’t easy. Some days I’m done. Some days I want to “go home,” wherever that is.}

But we are not crushed. We are not in despair, we are not forsaken, we are not destroyed.

Instead, we are reminded every day of clay that we are. We are reminded every day that the treasures only happen by the surpassing power of God.

jumping for joy.

by Filed Under: kelli, on the house 2 Comments

With a few skipped weeks around Christmas and with guests in town, we are getting back into a groove with our weekly fasts and celebrations.

I love it. I love that it’s a weekly, conscious effort to celebrate three things.

Most obviously, we celebrate the good things in our lives that particular week. Imagine a Thanksgiving-style share-what-you’re-thankful-for, but every week. But also, its a chance to celebrate that the story of Christ, the story of our redemption, and the story of hope coming into the world (Advent, if you will) is enough to celebrate for the rest of our lives; so we look back to celebrate what has come. And then last, the truth that Christ is returning, that this isn’t the end, and that a new kingdom is on the horizon–we look forward to that with anticipation; we celebrate what will come. (And what is anticipation except for a little pre-celebration?)

It’s been interesting to make it a celebration, particularly for two self-proclaimed dull folks. Our “parties” usually involve something of our favorite food, but otherwise tend to run late, are a bit scattered, are often interrupted, and sometimes involves books 🙄

But alas, we’re making an effort to celebrate, attempting to make it epic, attempting to make it joyful.

And this week, as we sat outside grilling salmon and veggies, I thought about what our neighbors celebrate.

———————

The first week of December, we wanted to host a Christmas Bingo. We had been collecting donated items from friends for quite awhile, and the neighbors just love it. It is, in truth, a collection of our expat friend’s and our trash. While we try not to make it truly worthless, I’ll admit that our last Bingo night did include stacks of paperplates and plastic spoons; Tupperwares missing lids. Things I am so tempted to throw away, but that they do love, they do look forward to. They ask regularly for us to play.

They comment often about how much they love the used clothes from the States that are such better quality. They love the hand-me-down toys, dishes, pans; socks, shoes. The plastic bins, drawers, and baskets are always a popular item. I saw a teenage boy wearing neon pink New Balances today, which he had won a few months back, had carefully washed yesterday and set out our gate in the sun to dry. They are still treasured shoes, months later.

That week, I had told everyone we’d be playing Bingo at some point in the week, and the ladies that work in our house were particularly curious. The bread ladies kept asking when, and it just became a big joke:

When are we playing Bingo?!
We want to play! Let’s play Saturday.
When are we going to play?
She doesn’t know yet; stop asking.

Oh, I know. I’m just not telling you!

Anyway, we went round and round all week. Then, as the bread ladies left on Friday afternoon, I asked nonchalantly, “Are you free Sunday?”

“Sure. What do you need help with?”

“I was just going to play Bingo if you wanted to come…”

They leapt, guys. All three ladies screamed. The two younger women–moms, 20 and 23, started jumping up and down and screaming with excitement.

They were celebrating more used clothing, more Tupperwares, and more mismatched dishes.

———————

This week, I bought apples for The Breakfast Club. On Friday, due to a kitchen full of bread and bakers, we give fruit and soymilk. This week I found a huge box of apples in the market, 80 apples for 550 baht, or about $16. That’s more than we usually spend on fruit–I can usually get 10 kilos of watermelon for about $3, or 10 kilos of oranges for about $6. But sometimes we splurge for apples because the kids love them.

Mwei Mwei, who is fifteen and sews at our house; has been to Bangkok and worked there. She’s in one of the “wealthier” families in our community, if you will. She’s perhaps been around more blocks than I’d wish for her.

She saw the box of apples, and her face lit up–are we having apples for breakfast tomorrow?

Or the little boys in the street, who asked what was for breakfast tomorrow, when I told them apples and soy milk–they leapt. They actually shouted and jumped and cheered. For apples and milk.

———————

So while I thoroughly enjoyed my salmon and grilled veggies; I gave thanks for the things we can do to celebrate–whether that is weekly or for our anniversary. We are so privileged to have celebrations in our life.

I also gave thanks for my neighbors who teach me, day after day. I love that they open my eyes to a new perspective, a new joy, and new ways to celebrate.

I want my kids to jump for joy when they get an apple, too. And if they can pull that off at fifteen, I’ll be impressed. I want to celebrate a crisp apple myself, too.

I want to be thankful when I friend shares a bag of hand-me-down clothes or offers an used book from her collection. Or when the neighbors share a dish of noodles.

I want to celebrate every week with abandon, but I also want to celebrate the little gifts of every day.

makro.

by Filed Under: housewares, kelli, on the house 4 Comments

We have a store in town called Makro. It’s similar to a Costco or Sam’s, sans the membership, where you buy things in bulk for cheaper.

They also have a song that they play in the background. While you can’t hear it over this blog, I’ll tell you it’s a catchy number:

Makro, Makro, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Makro, Makro, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

It then carries into verses, but these are all in Thai, so 🤷🏼‍♀️

While the two of us don’t really need bulk groceries, we buy some of our breakfast and bread baking supplies there, so I go nearly every week. Stephen used to come to help, but this led to him getting the song in his head and singing it repeatedly. It took about three days to get it out of his system…at which point I was only four days away from going and hearing it again.

And it’s not even a real song.

(Tesco also has it’s own theme song, so if we went there in between, well…🤦🏼‍♀️)

Anyway, when Breakfast Club took off, we made weekly market & Makro trips a part of Thida’s job description. She and I go every Wednesday to buy all the rice, soy milk, flour, salt, meat, veggies, yeast, butter, oil…We buy it all.

And if Thida goes with me, then Stephen doesn’t. And if Stephen doesn’t go, no song. #winning

Fast forward six months, when I really think I’m winning. I only have to listen to the song once a week for about twenty minutes, which is reasonable for any human to handle.

We’re all happy.

Then, last week over breakfast, I hear Thida in the next room, teaching the Makro song to her three-year-old granddaughter. Teaching it to her, like it’s a real song. #thewinningisover

And then this week as we’re shopping around Makro, and Thida sings along with the song and comments, “Ha, ha. Stephen loves this song!”

I want to shout #itsnotarealsong! at the top of my lungs.

the collective christmas: 23 december.

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Saturday was already a full day with OneHouse Carols that evening, so we woke up early (a theme for this holiday season; and our lives?) and headed back out to finish Christmas gifts.

Thankfully we were able to find everyone and had lots of fun. This was probably our most specialized year, and a bit less equal.  We really tried to find gifts that fit each person, and a little bit of how well we knew them. It made it so much more fun to purchase, pack, and deliver!

The rest of Saturday was full getting ready for OneHouse that evening. Stephen helped The Reinforcers get the equipment all set up, while I sorted a meal for the band, cookies for the community & visitors, candles all around the house, and last minute gift shopping.

Oh, and I ran to the store and lost the card for my motorbike, so I spent an hour sitting at the security desk to get my motorbike back 🙄

But OneHouse was so lovely and completely worth it. Stephen had half the songs available in both Karen & Burmese, and after a number of issues finding a Burmese singer, our friend NuNu stepped in on Saturday and sang in Burmese!

It was really beautiful. The candles, of course; the Christmas carols. But also the sound of voices singing together. I was surrounded by kids from our neighborhood, as well as mothers, singing together in Burmese. Our church family surrounded us, too, with kid’s voices and British accents; young old. It was really amazing to see everyone singing together, collectively trying to prevent a fire.

One of my favorite moments this Christmas.

Every year a new song resonates with me. (And I write about it apparently! 2012, 2104) This year, as I sat surrounded by some of my neighbors, we sang Go Tell It On The Mountain.

This might be one of my least favorite Christmas songs, partially because it always seems to be sung with a twang. It gives me visions of people on horses and Santa hats; it just doesn’t fit Christmas for me. But, alas, we sang:

Go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born

This is what we had gotten up early every day this week for, and gone to bed late for. This is what we wrapped hundreds of gifts for. This is what we cooked hundreds of meals for. This is what we serve breakfast for every day before school. This is what we bake bread for and deliver flowers for and sew things for. This is what we run sound for and go to church for and study language for. This is what we live in this hot little town for, a million miles away from our families that are cozied up by a fire together. This is what we have hard conversations for and wrestle with our faith for.

This is what just keep trying for.

In that moment, surrounded by women from our community that I love as sisters now, holding a little girl asleep in my arms that I love exponentially, watching my husband do his life so well–it felt worth it in that moment. Like we were doing what we were supposed to do this holiday season: we went, and we told it a million times over bowls of fish soup and story times and Christmas bingo. And ultimately, over mountains chaos, we shouted it.

It doesn’t always feel worth it. But in that moment, it did. And that made it one of my favorite days over this holiday season.

After worshiping together and watching our candles burn to nothing, we shared a collection of cookies our friends had brought with them. Kid were stuffing their hands full and coming back for more, and it was adorable. Everything is adorable by candlelight. (And maybe when they aren’t your kids with the sugar high?)

the collective christmas: 22 december.

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The 22nd was a Friday, so we had our usual Flour & Flowers chaos. We also offered a special cinnamon roll week before Christmas and added gifts to all the customers, so we added our own bit of crazy.

This was also the coldest–the absolute coldest!–day we can recall in Mae Sot.

So cold, in fact, we couldn’t get the bread to rise for the first time. Stephen to the rescue: he started the rice cooker with just water in it and created us a little steam room. We had water pouring down the walls and beautiful, plump bread in no time. And all of us loved volunteering to go in there to work! It was the warmest place in the house!

That evening, we started gift deliveries. We got them all loaded up, but honestly, they didn’t go amazing.

We made it through about 20% before we were waking everyone up (at 8:30pm. It wasn’t that crazy.) and we bailed until the next morning!

the collective christmas: 21 december.

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Thida returned before six on Thursday to make breakfast for 50 kids, followed quickly by finishing up mohinga for 400. Did I mention she’s the best?

The bread ladies all came at 9am to make pumpkin bread as a special treat for our Flour & Flowers customers.

From the beginning I’ll say this was the BEST Christmas meal we’ve had yet. We are learning, and have learned this: Delegate. Let somebody else do it better!

So Thursday afternoon found us taking a nap.

By the afternoon, all the food was put into bags and ready to be served. We had some extra time to play games with the kids–repeats of the previous night (below, “Toss the Jingle Bell into the Jar”) and a few made-up-on-the-spot balloon games & races. Did I mention these kids are so easily impressed?  We also did another practice of the kid’s songs, just in time for our church to arrive at 5:30pm.

First: singing the first verse of Joy to the World in both Burmese & English; then Hark The Herald Angels Sing in Burmese. This was followed by a dance a couple of the girls have learned at church.

Ah Tee then shared the story of Christmas and the gospel, and did a great little science experiment. We’ve now seen it three times this Christmas, and it’s still impressive! He has a bucket of clean water labeled “person” or “human.”  He has lots of little bottles–I believe of iodine?–that are labeled with different sins. He talks about the time they were hungry, and stole something to eat; the time they slept with a prostitute; etc. Each time, he adds more iodine as the water gets darker.

He then adds a cross, which has a little notch in the bottom, and he has stuck a tablet of some sort. (My science friends tell me it’s starch?) As he stirs the water with the cross, the water clears and returns to the clean water.  He continues to share about what happens when we sin after Christ–he adds more iodine, and then stirs again until it’s clear–we are purified again and again.

He finished with an invitation for those who want to know Christ, and he got an incredible response, which I wrote more on here. Ultimately, the church did an amazing job! We are so thankful they came to help, allowing us to share the Christmas story in a more relevant and cultural way without translation, and by helping us serve food–our first year without a stampede! Really, no fighting, which is a huge accomplishment.

I’m telling you: delegate. Let somebody else do it better!

the collective christmas: 20 december.

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On Wednesday, we headed to the market to prepare for the Christmas meal. Since Thida is rocking it five days a week for The Breakfast Club, we figured she could handle the community meal on her own, too.  She managed to serve over 400 people mohingya–Burma’s famous fish soup, and what she is famous for. Everyone was so excited.

At the market, we bought:
35 kilos of fish
1 kilo of fish paste
100 kilos of noodles
10 liters of oil
many bottles of fish sauce (Do you see a theme? It’s pretty fishy.)
6+ kilos of onions

And for Flour & Flowers, we bought 10 kilos of pumpkin & 50 kilos of flour.

…And more things I can’t remember. But our car was full. And fairly smelly.

The community began cooking on Wednesday and left the 35 kilos of fish in our kitchen overnight. Once again, we were pretty thankful for the door between our house and the community space.

That afternoon, we also practiced singing Joy to the World & Hark the Herald Angels Sing in Burmese with the kids.

That’s Stephen leading us on the guitar with one toddler on his lap and two hanging on each knee. The guitar is super popular with the kids!

After we sang and sent everyone home for dinner, one of the two-year-olds came up, quite upset about something. After help from his sister, we gathered this, “I learned. Where is my soy milk?”

Every week after Storytime, Liz gives the kids a small snack and soy milk. He was pretty confused that he had participated in “learning” the songs didn’t get a soy milk on his way out! 😂

And just to really round ourselves out, we went to a friends’ house that night to bring some Christmas cheer. They’ve had a hard season as of late, so we brought games and prizes and activities for the kids, and just made Christmas joy. Truth? A lot of us in that room really needed it.

Truth? We came back to a domestic argument that resulted in Stephen lifting a man out of his own home & take him for a mandatory walk/stumble around the block while I sat down to comfort a crying girl and a shamed mother while we all tried to get the other daughter out of her hiding spot. Not all of Christmas is storybook-friendly.

…But a lot of it is!

the city with our pseudo family.

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Of course our Christmas was a whirlwind, and of course it will take some time to catch up on all the stories.

We started purchasing & wrapping gifts early this year–a few in November (!!) and early December. But we had fun, so that’s the important part 😊

We also had help in wrapping them all, which we are beyond thankful for.

The weekend off the 15th, we headed off to Bangkok just minutes after returning from Flour & Flower deliveries. We packed up the car with our pseudo family here in town and made it halfway that evening.

The next day we started early and headed to Musana & Zen Yaw’s house. We wanted to deliver Christmas presents to their whole family AND it was Musana’s 12th birthday. That exact day! So we brought a cake, balloons, and presents all around. We also brought videos of her friends wishing her happy birthday, which she loved. It was such fun.

Each and every time we see them, I’m amazed that we have found them, over and over again, and get to see their faces occasionally. It is a miracle each and every time.

{Side note: These last two photos are probably some of my favorite captures of Stephen. I love how he has so many kids that love and trust him so deeply. I also love how he cares for the vulnerable in the community. See him with arm wrapped around this tiny old woman, with this little boy in his arms? He loves so well and is such a father|Father figure to them.}

We then headed off to the city to shop for last minute Christmas gifts and drink Christmas Starbucks drinks and all other fun holiday things.

That night at 11pm, we all piled back into the car to go pick up the Fetter’s two girls who are in university in the States and returned for Christmas! We were all decked out with a sign & bells & lights, and, uh, perhaps more Starbucks 🙂

We spent a couple days in the city: watching Star Wars! Watching Wonder! Finding candy canes and watching them be made! Enjoying all the Christmas sparkle the city has to offer!

The Fetters took our car home (now filling it with their family & luggage) and Stephen & I took the bus. I sort of love the bus, so this was Stephen’s little Christmas gift to me.

Since he doesn’t sleep well on the bus (and I do), he came home to sleep the morning away and I headed off to finish packing all the Christmas presents for the community! Thankful for all of the help we got from friends to pull this off.

All the gifts were wrapped and labeled by the 19th, which might be our PR!

Liz also came to do Storytime that afternoon, because she is still amazing us with that. The kids love it, and I love it! It’s one of the highlights of my week: I do nothing, but watch the kids shout back in English and learn songs and do crafts like they are little Westerners with their own library. 😍

snippets: november.

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

Y’all, these past few months have just beat us in so many ways. But, hey, there is still so much to say.

We started November with an anniversary trip to Chiang Mai. We took on the city for a day or two of good food and fun shops, and then headed outside of town to ride bikes and go for hikes and enjoy the beautiful weather of northern Thailand.

At the end of October, the mourning season for H.M. The King officially ended for the country of Thailand, and we slowly, hesitantly have begun to wear red again.

This was Stephen first day to wear his favorite red t-shirt, to which he put on and said, “Hi, I’m Stephen. And I’m back!”

After just returning from our anniversary trip, we got a call from the adoption agency to meet our new caseworker. We packed up the car the next week and trekked to Bangkok.

This was right before a disappointing, four minute “meeting” in the hallway–a literal “meet her”–with our fifth caseworker. We’re still on the waiting list.

{When Stephen & I were dating long distance, I learned pretty quickly that there are lots of emotional moments that you want to remember–for the moment but not necessarily for your face. I started encouraging photos of the backs of our heads, of our feet. And well, it’s stuck. I don’t want to forget this moment in our lives, but there are parts of it I don’t want on record, either.}

Thankfully Bangkok has more to offer us, including visiting these favorite faces.

And nice parks & skylines.

And since we’re still having celebrations once a week, we went out to our favorite live jazz venue and talked about what good things were going (this list didn’t include the flop-meeting with our caseworker).

Since Thanksgiving isn’t really celebrated worldwide, Thailand tends to jump into Christmas pretty early on.

So we just jumped, too, enjoying some Starbucks peppermint mochas (over a Skyped missions meeting in a hospital waiting room, because…well, our life is still our life!).

And I found a Real Simple in the hotel lobby, so I read through that in my shorts & tank top in the air conditioning.

Within a day or two of returning from Bangkok, I had another abscess under my arm. Not wanting to repeat the last very painful experience, as soon as we knew outpatient surgery was necessary, we got in the car to go to Chiang Mai. Ultimately, it was a good call, but it wasn’t pleasant on many fronts. I’m still recovering, and we’re working so hard to build up my immune system.

The doctors say that with my immune system down (which it seems it has been since dengue fever in July and my dog bite in August; and the following reported infections), this will keep happening. We’re currently downing green smoothies and fresh fruits & veggies and vitamins like there is no tomorrow, and we are praying, praying, praying we can be done with this season of poor health.

We’re still trying to participate in the local community, and went to the art show our friend hosted, the grand opening of our friend’s restaurant, and a fundraiser for an organization working to end abuse of women & children. {It might sound like we have a lot of friends, but I’ll just remind you that we do sell bread & flower bouquets in a small town every week, so…}

To raise funds, you bought a t-shirt & decorated it, and then it was auctioned off.

My contribution was auctioned for $30! {From what I gather, one of the higher ones, & they were pretty surprised. To be fair, many people were painting pictures of abusive situations or fists in the air; things that might not be worn as commonly…} Either way, since this is something we deal with regularly in the community, it was refreshing to be able to fight from both angles of the issue.

I also ran a 5K to fundraise for another local organization that supports Burmese migrant schools around Mae Sot.

The Breakfast Club is still happening, and Stephen is still on the look out for budding romances! He’s convinced of this one.

Our seamstresses are still busy sewing for a few projects. San Aye and her two kids are thriving, and I love how her smile captures it all.

Mwei Mwei loves sewing, but isn’t a huge fan of the required studies. It’s a bit like pulling teeth, but teeth I really want to pull–I really want her to know a higher level of math (I’d like her to be comfortable with multiplication & division, but she currently does alright at addition & subtraction); to be regularly reading & writing Burmese; and to learn some English & Thai.

Math has been a particular battle. At the beginning of November, we struck a deal (offered a bribe?)–if she would memorize her times tables, we would give her additional money (on top of her salary, which goes to her family) and take her for a shopping trip. She has two chances to get 90% on all her times tables (1-12, in the form of minute math pages), and her first try was this past Thursday.

She’s at least appearing to be motivated and we’ve caught her studying in between Breakfast Club & her workday. She’ll finish up the exams this week and hopefully head out for a day of shopping with us! Here’s to hoping she can do well and it can build her confidence a little.

We found out one of the mothers in the community is pregnant again–with her third, the oldest being 3 1/2. Culturally this is rare, and a “mistake” if you will. As the general response was overwhelming fear and concern; others asking how she let this happen again, we wanted to be sure she knew we were there to support her and wanted her to welcome this baby with joy. We bought two maternity dresses in the market and delivered a bag of rice to the family; and then offered to take her to the clinic for her checkup. Within that week, her oldest was also bit by a dog, at which point we learned he didn’t have any vaccinations–including his tetanus which is really needed for dog bites. Thus, by the following week, we were at the clinic two days with them, catching both boys up on all their vaccines, getting them their birth certificates, and getting an ultrasound and bloodwork for the new babe. While we believe it was so important to support her this, it did mean I ended up locked in the car with three toddlers because I couldn’t manage to keep them all within reach at the clinic.

And after over an hour of that, I just drove them home and told her I’d send Stephen back for her.

That resulted in me at home with four toddlers for the afternoon. Our lives don’t always go as planned, mostly since I don’t usually work children into my schedule since I don’t have any to call my own!

Fast foward to this Saturday, when Stephen had to pick up The Reinforcers to return sound equipment to the church before we went to get four kids for a Christmas dance practice. As we planned our day, “Let’s go to Sai Bo Bo’s birthday party at 8; and then you go at 8:30 to get the kids and return the sound equipment. Can you pick me up by 9:30 so we can get the kids to dance by 10? Then maybe we can go work at the coffeeshop until we have to pick them up…”

Again, lots of children and yet none we call our own!

After a three-hour dance practice, we learned they hadn’t had lunch, so we took the kids out to lunch. It was a unique group–some of our favorites–and I’ll probably cherish that meal forever.

They got chicken fried rice with a fried egg on top, and they were so excited to have meat and an egg. Laytahoo also asked, “They’re paying for this, right?!” at one point, which had all the other kids shushing him and Stephen & I rolling on the floor. We got ice cream, too, and listened to Christmas songs on the way home, while Jorgee drummed on his legs and snapped his fingers just like his hero Stephen. It’s a memory I won’t quickly forget.

On a Sabbath, we went up into the mountains to read and hike in the quiet. It turned out to be colder than we thought, so I was layering two sweaters and we eventually started a fire. We couldn’t believe the chill, so we looked up the temp–according to our phones it was 82 degrees 😳 I’d like to assume that was incorrect, but not sure how much margin of error I can credit!

The kids think its pretty cold, too, and it’s adorable when they come for breakfast in the morning all bundled up.

Birthdays just keep coming, and this little guy turned 2 years old. He usually licks of the icing and toppings of things, so we went all out with the strawberry on top.

And now it’s December, and we’re going big for Christmas this year! More snippets of chaos to come 🙂

the breakfast club | week seventeen.

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

Last week we wrapped up our seventeenth week of The Breakfast Club, and as of last Friday, Thida–with very minimal help from us–has served up 3,070 meals to kids in this community.

3,070!

That is so much rice I can’t even wrap my head around it, even after buying it and lugging it home from the market each week!

Thida is an incredible gift. She is a chef, server, leader, mom, grandma, and friend to each and every child, mom and dad that comes to the door. She understands the power of a steady, healthy meal in the unsteady, unhealthy lives of these kids. She gets why some are served free and some not. She gets why it’s hard to draw lines in the sand. She gets the value of it and the challenge of it; and she’s taking it on day after day with excellence.

And she’s become one of my best friends, in many ways through this endeavor. While we’ve shared the responsibility of early mornings and market trips and planning for feeding, that isn’t what brought us closer. It has been sharing the pain of the poverty of this community.

They ask her for loans, too, and she has to figure out what to do. They tell her their pains and ailments and worries, and she has to find words, too. She has unknowns in her future, too. She has become a confidant on how to handle difficult situations, what to say (in theory and in actual vocabulary!), what to hope for, and what to pray for. I don’t know exactly what she believes, but I know we’re having regular conversations about our prayers and hopes.

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Last week as two of the bread ladies came in to bake, they dropped their kids at the door for breakfast & came into the kitchen. As they looked back at the large group of kids gathered around our Thanksgiving leftovers, one of them asked, “Do you just like feeding the kids? Are you happy?”

You see, while Thida gets it, most of the community doesn’t. It’s weird that we serve breakfast for free, only to the kids, and only to the skinny ones. It’s weird that we pour in loads of meat and eggs and pumpkins and beans. It’s weird.

But I was a little confused at her question. Am I happy…today? Am I happy to feed them Thanksgiving food? Am I happy…for what?

And once I understood, I tried to explain. This is in short what I attempted to say in Burmese: Well, yes, it does make me happy to see them eating good food. But, that’s not why we do this. We knew many of the kids were too skinny and not getting enough food. So we told our church about it, and asked if they would help us feed the kids breakfast. We thought about 50 of the kids would be “too skinny.”  Now, it’s more than that, so sometimes I get nervous we won’t have enough money to feed everyone. But, I think it’s really important. If they eat enough food and eat healthy food, they will be smarter. When they get older, I think this will help their lives be easier.

Easier? They asked.

Both of them have recently been in very hard seasons, and we’ve been helping them out. So I felt comfortable to say: I see how hard life is for you. It’s hard to get work, it’s hard to live, it’s hard to live here without papers, it’s hard to have enough money. I hope that if you’re kids eat healthy, life will be easier for them than it is for you.

And while this isn’t the first time we’ve explained The Breakfast Club–maybe more like the one thousandth time?–they seemed to see it. Three thousand meals in, and maybe a couple moms looked me in the eye and got it: it’s a long-term plan.

And it’s enough of a plan we think it’s worth getting up at 5am for. It’s enough of a plan we are going to measure all your kids and put them into a system and keep track of their growth. It’s enough of a plan for us to go to the market every week and buy insane amounts of food. It’s a plan, and it’s working.

We’re 3,070 meals in, folks!