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.

I’ll admit that Thai election campaigns don’t hold a candle to the US campaigns, but I will still be more than happy to see the campaign trucks say goodbye on Monday.  The trucks drive slowly through town with huge speakers and a few people standing in the back of the truck shouting through megaphones. It’s a bear to get stuck behind one. Thankfully, they’ve only been going for a week or so.

And elections are today!

As of six o’clock yesterday evening, alcohol was illegal to sell at stores or restaurants. Everyone must be sobered up for the elections, even if less than half of this border town can actually vote.

We’re quite far from the cities and in some ways we’re much more affected by Burmese politics than Thai. Even so, prayers appreciated!  The governor of our province could be very influential in the future of the refugee camps, and the party with national majority could make changes for NGO regulations and visas, which are a big part of our lives as Partners is an NGO and we have visas.

Here’s to a sober, non-rioting election day!

We received an email this week from a team hoping to come visit in January of 2013.

2013.

Really?

We live in an area where we’re not sure what areas we’ll be able to get into next week.  We wait to make plans with our local contacts until just weeks or days before.  The entire culture here works on a schedule that lacks, well, schedule–no calendars, no clocks, no dairies to write down reminders.

One of the headmasters of a local migrant school tells us every week that maybe he will be here or maybe he will go home soon to Burma if the new government is good.

There’s no telling when the camps will close or how long we’ll be able to do what we do here.

There were elections last November in Burma, and we’re still discovering the repercussions of them. And there are elections in Thailand next week and we’re waiting to see the repercussions of those.

We are constantly repeating to teams that things change and flexibility is key.

And then we have this team, wanting us to plan on them for January 2013, when we may or may not be here, when the camps may or may not be closed, and when Burma may or may not be freed.

And then, as we spoke with our boss about how to respond to this request, I realized how overwhelming it all is to me.

We made the decision to move here because we knew that’s what God called us to. But I’m still wrapping my head around it all–day by day, taking each thing as it comes.  This week, I’m grasping that I’m missing out on a family vacation & reunion in Gatlinburg, wishing I could be a part of the fun and catch up with cousins, aunts, and uncles I have seen in nearly a decade, which is quite a long time for someone as young as I am.

I’m grappling with the fact I won’t be there for my best friend’s wedding in a month. That I won’t be there for the wedding showers, the pedicures, wedding dress shopping, the bridesmaid events, and the beautiful wedding itself. I haven’t even seen the engagement band on her finger.

To so many of the staff here, this is life. You give up family, friends, and all things familiar. You embrace this.

And once you embrace it, I think it’s hard to remember what a commitment it was. Sometimes I feel like everyone here is just waiting for me to just toughen up, swallow it, and be all here.

But I’m on this island between: between that and what was once home. I’m between America, family, vacations, buying a house, having a family, going to movies, shopping at Target and this new life of–well, shopping at local markets, always being lost in translation, being stared at regularly, cockroaches & lizards, suffering across the street, maybe just a general lostness–whether its me looking for black beans in the market or the orange soda being offered up to the spirit house. Lots of lostness.

Anyway, it was in this team wanting to come over for the New Year holiday of 2013 that I realized this island I’m standing on.

We’re in this for as long as God tell us to be here, and there’s a good chance we’ll be here then.

But I can’t commit that time away yet.

For example, when we first arrived, we already had two teams set up for December of this year. And in my first couple weeks, this nearly pushed me over the edge. I knew we wouldn’t be going home for Christmas–we had agreed to two years before furlough (minus emergencies or major events). But, I still wasn’t ready to see my Christmas holiday filled up with things here.

And it’s the same with this next Christmas and New Year holiday 2013: I can’t schedule it yet. I realize I may not have many Christmases at home with family as long as we’re here. But take one at a time. I’m still getting over Father’s Day. I’m still trying to figure out how to get Stephen a burger and fries for the 4th of July.  Christmas is yet to be swallowed.

And even as I’m on this island–I don’t even know which way I want to go. That’s probably the worst part of all. I feel like the one side is yelling for me to come home and the other side is yelling for me to jump in wholeheartedly.  And I don’t even know which way I want to go. I can’t grasp the person I’ll become if we stay here long; and I don’t know how I’d slip back into America after what I am now.

So I’m just standing there. Maybe yelling, “Take one thing at a time, please! Just one thing at a time!”

Oh, yes. We’re the newest members of a local gym.

Well, “gym”.

It’s in a local resort hotel, and apparently they aren’t getting enough visitors.  I can’t imagine why not–Mae Sot is such a resort-like location!

(I say that completely sarcastically. It’s just a shady little border town.)

Anyway, they have opened up their fitness center and pool to the public, so we joined.

And we love it. The gym is a little aged, but it sports two treadmills (maybe 3…I’m not sure what that last thing is), two bikes (currently broken, but hopefully to be fixed!), and a selection of weight machines. I’m just thankful for the opportunity to run without the sun, rain, and stares bearing down on me.

The pool is amazingly nice, both clean and cool, and a great way to end a workout. I still feel a little naked in my one-piece swimsuit after months of always having my shoulders and knees covered, but I’m getting used to it again.

Oh, and they will have member cards for us later this week.  They usually take photos, but they said they didn’t need to for us because they could remember us. Y’know, the white ones.