The House Collective

the breakfast club | week one.

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

Sometimes it is so difficult to keep writing.

There is so much I want to tell you about. There is so much I want to record and never forget.

I want to tell you how we started The Breakfast Club this week. We have over forty kids coming into our house every morning between 6:30 and 8am to eat a full bowl of breakfast–rice or noodles, eggs, tofu, or  fish; tiny chopped vegetables so the kids gulp them right down. A well-balanced meal.

I wish you could see their faces or watch them pull out their Breakfast Club card like a badge. I wish you could see Thida show up with a smile at 6am or before to start cooking, to chop everything, to stir curry in a ginormous pot that covers two burners. I wish you could see, in person, what a five liter rice cooker looks like on our tiny little counter in our tiny little kitchen.

I wish you could see Thida bring them a full plate, make sure they are full before they go, and just ensure they are cared for.

I wish you could see the floor when they leave. And see how well Thida cares for that, too.

It’s working. We are watching kids come hungry and leave full. And it isn’t worst-case-scenario chaotic: just normal chaos.

But there are also so many things I want to forget, too.

I’d also have to tell you about the hungry moms. I’d have to tell you about the challenges of determining how to ensure we aren’t taken advantage of by some, but also not missing an opportunity with others. I’d have to tell you about the mom hiding in the kitchen, scarfing down the last of her son’s unfinished bowl. I’d have to tell you how, even among the malnourished, you can tell who is truly, truly poor and truly, truly hungry. You can see it in their faces and in their eyes and in their bowls.

You can feel it, and it follows you–through the day and to the next morning, when they eat two big bowls all over again.

I knew The Breakfast Club was a big task. I knew our house would be open at early every morning (the 5:30am was a surprise…), and I knew that’d be an interesting shift in our lives. I knew it’d be a new dynamic with Thida as we learn the ropes. I knew there would be people with questions about why their kids weren’t included; I knew we’d have others that would take advantage. I knew it would be a lot more shopping in the market and a lot more activity in our home.

It is all those things.

But I didn’t expect the weight of it. The joy and mourning, every morning at such an early hour. The mourning of hungry kids waiting at the front door and those so excited for a plate of food, perhaps because they are hungry from the last “meal” they had. The joy of having a hot, steaming bowl ready for them. The emotions of seeing some embarrassed because they are just so hungry.

Oh, friends–this place is heavy.

It is good, and there are good things happening. We are thankful The Breakfast Club is funded and functioning, perhaps at the best time possible while families are a bit panicked at new laws coming into play and the potential of their lives shifting. God knows, and God is good.

And God is here, waking with us each morning, listening patiently to our questions, wiping away our tears, and filling their empty bellies.

little wins.

by Filed Under: housewares, kelli, schoolhouse 1 Comment

The recent season has held quite a few unknowns, as Thailand cracks down on illegal labor nationwide (read: our best friends) and makes international visas more difficult (read: our futures) and lends very little information about the adoption process we wait in (read: no idea when or if baby bunny will come).

Unknowns, to say the least. Even more than there always have been, so…

And while we continue to try to keep a community center running, keep six women in jobs, sell bread and flowers once a week, continue praying and hoping for one woman in chemotherapy and ensure her family is cared for, and make sure the blind man doesn’t have tuberculosis but is cared for while he’s in isolation…

Sometimes we spend so much time just staying on top of every day life, I forget how great some of the things are that we see and experience.

But there are just two little side stories of this month that I don’t want to ever forget.

_______________________

First, this little boy. He’s been spending day after day at our house, where he is “watched” by his grandparents who live across the street. He mostly spends time by himself on our porch, asking multiple times a day if we’ll be playing at 4pm.

There’s definitely an opportunity for him to go to school in the area, but we weren’t really sure why he had slipped through the cracks. We talked to his parents and asked if he could go to school; it seemed money was the issue, and perhaps disorganization and disinterest. We asked the little boy if he was interested, and he was beyond keen.

So then we asked Thida to help, and asked her to check with the teachers to see if he could join late and what grade he’d be in; what costs would be. She got us the information and we “hired” her to help coordinate it all–she’s the best gift of a community help we could have asked for. At the cost of $59, the little boy was enrolled in a year of school, was given three uniform sets, new shoes, and a backpack. And Thida made $6 of that for her help in enrolling him and purchasing all the uniforms.

Thida’s kids attend the same school, so a few days in, they reported back that he didn’t have lunch with him each day. The family helped educate the parents on sending him with a lunch pail each day, so he could eat lunch there. The teacher reports back to Thida that he’s incredibly well-behaved and is just so excited to be learning everything and anything.

Fast-forward a week, when we’ve recovered from dengue and he’s situated into school. He arrives at our door in the afternoon, in an adorable uniform and shiny black shoes, wearing a backpack on and a proud smile.

Are you attending school? Do you like it? What are you learning?

He tells me he’s learning the Burmese alphabet and his Burmese numbers; he says he teacher told him they’ll learn English, too. And he tells me he’s writing it all in his book. He goes on about how his mom walks him to school and he walks home by himself, and how his friend Jor Lay is in the same class. And that he loves his teacher.

…Oh, and are we playing at 4pm today? He asks again.

And just like that, he’s in school. He has a piece of stability in his life, friendships, and new role models. He’s learning and growing, and he’ll be joining us for breakfast each morning starting next week, on his way down the street to school.

I don’t want to forget that. It’s a small, but so well-spent $59. Worth every penny.

_______________________

And second, this girl. Thida’s daughter, Mwei Mwei, has officially started sewing in our home three days a week and helping us with childcare during Flour & Flowers on Friday mornings. She’ll also be going to the market with me each week to help purchase food for the blind man in the community, purchase bread baking supplies, and purchase ingredients for The Breakfast Club that starts next Monday! She’s back from Bangkok, living with her family, and has a job in a safe environment.

She’s fourteen, and we’d rather her be in school. But if the family is going to take her out of school, we’d rather her be in a safe work environment that values her age and vulnerability, and gives her the opportunity to keep learning. So that’s us–finding a way to do that!

She was able to do six weeks of sewing training at a nearby organization where her sister also works. She is now sewing new items each week to expand her skills. And for about an hour a day, she also takes lessons from us. We have set her up on a computer with math lessons and typing lessons, while we work with her on spoken English, as well as reading, writing, and typing basic English.

And once a week, we’re also having her spend time reading a Burmese book, which I’ll also be reading in English. After each book, she’ll be writing a short paper or two in Burmese, which we’ll go over with a Burmese teacher, so that she can further her Burmese grammar and language skills. I’m excited that we’ve already found I am Malala and some Charles Dickens’ classics online in Burmese; and I’m on the hunt for a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird that is supposedly translated out there somewhere. I’m hoping it promotes some interesting conversations in Burmese between us, too!

And again, just something not to be forgotten. It’s a little success, a budding relationship, a few hours of study. But she’s safe. We get to watch her with her siblings each day. She gets to be told she’s doing a great job and oh-so-clever on a regular basis. And that’s a win.

Here’s to the little wins that just must not be overlooked in the unknowns 😊

double dengue.

by Filed Under: house calls, kelli 1 Comment

I go back and forth, finding it difficult to believe it is already the end of July, but simultaneously confused that it is still July. What a month.

We were hit recently with what I’m calling double-dengue.

I came home from Flour & Flowers deliveries on cinnamon roll week, after we had delivered 33 pans of cinnamon rolls all over town, in addition to 180 hand-rolled tortillas and a basket of bread loaves, exhausted and with a fever. It seemed reasonable to be tired, waking up at 5am, baking until 3pm, and jumping in the car to make deliveries until 7pm. But the fever persisted on Saturday, and I thought I was fighting some sort of virus.

We left on Sunday for a trip to Bangkok with friends, hoping I’d be over whatever it was soon. And for the record, they were contributing hand, foot & mouth to the car from their daughter, too, so it wasn’t just me!  Unfortunately, we learned the very next day that I had dengue fever; and then two days after that, Stephen did, too. Dengue is absolutely nothing to joke of–it is a beast. The fevers are high, the rash is red and horrifying and itchy. And the body aches! Someone asked if it is in fact like you’ve been hit by truck, and it is. Every joint and muscle throbs like you’ve just run way too far and swam too far and sat too long and been hit by a fast car, all at once. You want to sleep and sleep some more, but you ache like you can’t find a comfortable way to sit or lay. And if you do happen to sleep, you’ll wake up in fever fits before too long.

Ten days of that.

For us, we went to Bangkok with friends to drop them at the airport, which left us to drive back to Mae Sot. We ended up taking it slow–very, very slow. We would get up late, around 9am, to catch the end of the hotel’s breakfast. Then we’d go back for a nap, because eating a few pieces of toast can really take it out of you. We’d wake up to check out at 12pm, and take turns driving, about 1 1/2 hours each, before we’d pull into the next hotel and go to sleep, about 3 or 4pm. So for multiple days in a row we were sleeping upwards of 16 hours a day.

We also got checked to make sure we didn’t have internal hemorrhaging, which can come with dengue. And we found out it can also lead to hepatitis, or swelling of the liver, which I had toward the end.

What a mess of a disease.

We both were all-cleared for the bigger risks–dehydration, hemorrhaging, and hepatitis–last Sunday, just in time to cross the border for a new visa stamp on Monday. We were up and out of the house by 10am, and walked across the bridge at the edge of town, only to walk back for a new stamp. And then we went home to take a rest, because it plum wiped us out.

But alas–still another week after that, we’ve now made it through two days in a row without a nap mid-afternoon, so we seem to be on the up and up!

all things in common.

by Filed Under: house church, housewares, kelli, stephen 1 Comment

Thida and her family are such dear friends of ours. She reminds me regularly that I need to open a restaurant to sell bread, cakes, and all the meals they’ve ever tasted. She says she’ll be the kitchen manager and it will be so successful. She even tells me often that they’ll move their whole family to Burma with us if we’d prefer to open a business there!

Her husband built them a beautiful new house about three months–it sits back across a river, so you cross a handmade bamboo bridge to get into a shaded piece of ground, surrounded by trees. The house is beautiful, with three small rooms, a living area, and a kitchen. It’s the most elaborate shack I’ve encountered, with a collection of materials pieced creatively together. After building, they didn’t have electricity at their house, but would have to pay to have the government wire it out to them, particularly being Burmese. So they waited a few months without electricity, coming to our house each afternoon with a selection of flashlights and phones to recharge for their family of 12.

And just weeks ago, they got electricity to their new place. They they bought a refrigerator.

This is where she came to me: they had bought a large fridge for about $75, used from somewhere. She said her husband had told her last night: Stephen & Kelli use their fridge much more, making bread & cakes and such; and they have a smaller fridge. Why don’t we just trade? They could use the big fridge and we would be fine with the small one.

This pretty much melted my heart. For her family of twelve, she wants to trade me for my 4 foot fridge, so that we can have a larger one for all our baking?  The sweetest.

At this point, we’ve declined–I feel like I could just go buy one out of savings, but we’re making do! It doesn’t feel like a necessity yet. And she does have a family of 12!

And more than anything, I’m just honored that we do life together, with a willingness to swap appliances. She has been such a picture of Christ to me, even as I don’t know exactly where she’d say she is on her faith journey. We’re just having lots of conversations, and ultimately, I think she grasps the idea the church and the love of Jesus more than many of us.

“And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need.”
Acts 2:44-45

oh, kid.

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One of the little boys is just six, and has been dealt a rough hand already.

His parents were in prison for the first three years or so of his life; he was often watched by his teenage aunts and lived with his grandfather. Not so long after his parents were out of prison and he was living back with them, his father was diagnosed with advanced tuberculosis and dangerously malnourished, so he was admitted to the clinic and then transferred to a tuberculosis isolation spot about two hours out of town.  They whole family went.

They all returned months later, but just after school started. So he’s back to the familiar of our neighborhood, but doesn’t attend school while his friends do. He spends his days playing in our yard with two to four year olds.

He also asks every day if we are playing inside. We have tried to explain the days of the week and how certain days we play at 4pm and certain days we don’t. He’s not capturing all of it, so he now asks every morning: Are we playing at 4pm today? And we say yes or no. Picking our battles, at least he’s only asking once a day.

Last week his foot got caught in his dad’s bicycle. His ankle swelled quickly, so we took him to see if it was broken. It wasn’t broken, but sprained; and had a large cut on the side.  Most of the instructions we gave weren’t heeded, so I began changing the bandages at our house.

A few more days went by, with bandages just not staying put. I decided since it was closed, we should just focus on getting antibiotic cream on it, rather than keeping it wrapped in gauze. Again, we’re picking battles carefully.

I took medicine to the mother and explained it to her.

Fast foward to today: our house is full of thirty-some children and adults, coloring, playing on the computers, playing market…they are everywhere. Suddenly I look down and see blood on the floor. Everywhere. There are large drops and smears of blood–everywhere. Covering most of the floor.

Thida, Stephen & I see it at nearly the same time, and we’re shouting all at once: Wait! Stop! WHO IS BLEEDING? BLOOD. WHO IS BLEEDING? WHO IS BLEEDING??

It took ridiculously long to figure out who, but it was little friend. His cut isn’t healing so well and broke open; and apparently he didn’t notice his trail.

I carried him into the kitchen to try to bandage him up. Thida very sweetly came in and asked him if his mom had put any of the medicine on it. He said no. She explained that his mom was “naughty” (not sure how else to translate that!) and wouldn’t put medicine on it. She made sure he understood to come to our house every day to get medicine.

He went back to playing, and then left at 6pm with the other kids.

About 6:30pm, he was at the door, calling for us.

“Stephen, are we going to play today at 4pm?”
“Well, we did, buddy. 4pm already came. We already played. But we’ll play tomorrow at 4pm, too.”
And then in English–“Don’t you remember playing? You bled out on our floor!”

playhouse.

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Friends, Playhouse is thriving.

We open up the space four times a week in the afternoons, to catch kids and families after school and on Saturday evenings for a safe place to play. And each time, it fills up with old friends and new faces.

We still have two computers available for the kids seven & older to use, playing English games, typing practice, math drills, drawing, and Minecraft.

We have a selection of toys and games for all ages, including the newly popular board games. The board games have been an overwhelming success with the older kids and moms!

We had a team visit from my university campus ministry and do some projects in our community. They made two soccer goals out of PVC that we keep inside, with two soccer balls, until Playhouse. The kids can play in the street but easily pick them up when a car through.

The team also made a set of market items out of fabric–something I have wanted to make for a long time! They did a great job making local fruits and vegetables, a milk & juice, a bag of potato chips, and fish. They also laminated Monopoly money for the kids to pretend with. It has been such a hit!

And last, they helped us set up some more technology pieces! We had one more Raspberry Pi, and we wanted to use it to set up a gaming system. Stephen found a “RetroPie”–it’s old versions of Nintendo games that you can play with a Raspberry Pi, computer monitor, and a couple controllers. The team helped us set it up for the kids to play, and they are absolutely loving it. They really love StreetFighter and WorldCup Soccer.

It’s also fun to see how communal it is!

And last, we have had a 1st Generation iPad from when we moved. It runs very few apps these days, and we were gifted a 2nd Generation iPad last year. We wanted to get our old iPad et up for the kids to use, as another technology piece to get used to. I really think its so good for them to learn how to use their fingers on a touch screen on the iPad, as well as the mouse and computer programs; and even the controllers. I love to see how much they are able to experience and learn!

It was fun to have the team here to help us get some new activities rolling, and the kids are certainly loving it 😁

the best gift.

by Filed Under: house church, kelli, photos 4 Comments

I’ve recently gotten caught up in Matthew 7:7-11. I’ve been stumbling over it, again and again, just not sure how to swallow it down.

There have been some times I’ve felt like I was holding bread–a great, good gift we were celebrating–and it turned out to feel much more like a stone.

And sometimes I had to drag it along for a long way, feeling the weight of it rather than tasting it on my tongue.

But He does know his children, right? So what I think is a good gift may not be; and he knows what it truly good for me…I’ve heard it. I’ve thought it, and I’ve wrestled with that, too.

I keep coming back to the question: if the receiver doesn’t feel like it’s a good gift, is it a good gift? “Good” becomes a painful word in that scenario. And I’ve even sat crying out that while I’m sure this is good, I still don’t know how to swallow it. If it looks like a stone, feels like a stone, sounds like a stone, just saying it’s innately bread is just maddening.

I digress.

I’m obviously still stumbling over it.

Recently, we learned some difficult news about our adoption process here in Thailand. I’m not sure I even know what to say, except that our whole lives here require miracle after miracle, and this is no different. If we see this come to fruition, we’ll just know without a doubt that it was Lord and absolutely nothing less.

And if we find ourselves waiting or find questions unanswered; if we find it just isn’t what God has for us–well, we’ll have to find a way to swallow that down, too.

__________________

Fast forward to last Saturday, I sat snapping photos while Stephen played guitar, our little church group sang, and Yaminoo was baptized.

As I watched her say that yes, she believes in the Trinity; and yes, she believes Jesus died for her: I realized something. This is a good gift.

I have loved Yaminoo since we moved here. We met her within weeks of moving into the house, when she and her little friend group was just six years old.

And Yaminoo, she just captured our hearts. She often was watching her little brother, who we also came to love. She now watches her newest little brother, and we love him too. She spent countless hours in our home–in the mornings, during the day, and late into the evenings. She would often stay until 9 or 10pm, doing puzzles or playing games on a phone or looking over our shoulders at whatever we were working on. We knew her family life was rough at the time, and we just gave her a safe place to wait it out.

She was the first one to start cooking with me, and I loved it. She was always willing to help and just always wanted to spend time together. She was the first one we helped with a medical situation, taking her to the hospital when she broke her finger. She was the one that Stephen spilled an entire pan of (thankfully cooled) cooking oil on; right on her head and all over her.

I simply searched her name to find these stories I could link to, and the posts about her are uncountable. I’ve written for years about our prayers for her, our love for her, and the laughter we’ve shared together. In so many ways, she’s been a best friend for the past seven years.

And this week, she was baptized. This isn’t just a good gift really–this is the best gift I could have asked for. I can’t think of anyone I’ve prayed more for in the last seven years–I truly think I’ve prayed more for her than my own husband.

We have hurt for her and broken for her and celebrated with her and loved her so, so very much.

I might even say that her baptism is a better gift than getting a call that there’s a baby waiting to call us mom & dad.

And God knew that.

He knew I never would have guessed it. God knew I’d be sitting beside a beautiful lake, attempting to swallow losses in my own life while I watched her embrace her earthly father and her heavenly Father, and trying to reconcile the good gifts, the giving and taking, the mourning & rejoicing. He knew I’d be celebrating the greatest win in the community alongside one of our greater heartaches as a couple.

__________________

We’re in a pretty beautiful season in the community.

While we’re still dealing with all the same–poverty, fighting, hunger, sickness, drunkenness, crime, unemployment–we’re also seeing God bless things indescribably.

We celebrated nine baptisms last week. Mwei Mwei is back from Bangkok; God arranged a free sewing training for her and provided a machine for her to sew at our house. San Aye is thriving–she has a new tooth, her children are healthy, her marriage is improving, she is learning new skills and she has a steady job. Flour & Flowers is successful, making ends meet and successfully providing part-time jobs for four women. A young couple paid off their loan after two years and started a savings account. The Breakfast Club is funded and we are the process of measuring kids and creating a system. Children and parents are filling our home four afternoons a week to play and learn.

So many good things. And watching Yaminoo’s baptism simply illuminated them all for me.

And I thought of John the Baptist. In both Matthew 11 & Luke 7, the Gospels tell the story of John the Baptist in prison. He writes to Jesus–whom he baptized, whom he declared “The Son of God who takes away the sins of the world”–asking if he is “the one to come” or if they should wait for someone else.

After declaring him the Messiah, he asks from prison if He is the Messiah.

And Jesus replies, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.” (Matthew 11:4-6)

For some, the Messiah looks like healing, cleansing, hearing, hope; and for others, it looks like prison. It looks like a life in the wilderness that ends in a beheading.

But “blessed is the one who is not offended.”

Blessed is John, if he is not offended that the Messiah to him looks like beheading. Erwin McManus paraphrases, “The blind see, the lame walk, the dead are being raised, but you, John, you are going to die.”

What if that is not so different for us?

People are baptized, women are able to work with their children, women are protected from abuse, children are able to stay with their families, hungry children are fed, second chances are being given, sickness is being healed, truth is being spoken…but you–you might not get what you want. You might study language forever. You might be tired at the end of every single day. You might not be able to adopt a baby. You might not have a family of your own.

But God is still good. And blessed are those that not offended by Him.

I don’t know if that is was God truly has for us; of course I don’t know–but I do feel like that is what he asking me to embrace right now. I feel like He is asking me to embrace the unbelievably good gifts and unbelievable miracles that He is handing us, day after day, in the community, and hold those in the same hands that are mourning the questions, the unknowns, and the fears in our personal lives.

baptisms!

by Filed Under: house church, kelli, photos 1 Comment

We were able to celebrate nine baptisms this past Saturday! This did change from the number I last said, because, well, I’m not really sure. Whoops! Nine people total were baptized–five from our community and four are other connections from the church. Of those from our community, three we know very well and have for years; two we have met more recently.

We all met at our house first, at 9am on Saturday. Of course the neighbors came at 8:30am, so we took a photo of just our community group, played songs and chatted for a bit while we waited.

I’ll just tell you now that smiling in photo is very unpopular. We’re working on getting the kids to smile, against all cultural norms, and look! It worked on the two we spend every day with 😁  So despite the many frowns you will see in the following photos, it was a joyous day!

And then the group from church arrived.

Our pastor prayed, shared about baptism, and we had a cake that I had made. Cake is very, very popular in both the community and the church, so I try to find celebratory excuses to treat them!

We also gave new towels as gifts to the nine being baptized.

We then piled into two cars and headed out to the nearby reservoir. It’s just a few kilometers from our house, but right when it came into view our neighbors were ooh-ing and ahh-ing about how beautiful it was. I often forget how little they leave our neighborhood.

It was really stunning, and one of the most picturesque baptisms I could imagine.

I won’t show you photos of each baptism–but they are beautiful, and will be printed for each person to hang in their homes!–but I will include Yaminoo.

There is another post coming about what it means to see her be baptized, but for now, this is beautiful enough.

😍😍😍😍😍

So much to celebrate, despite the photos capturing less-than-thrilled faces ☺️

rejoice with me!

by Filed Under: house church, housewares, kelli, on the house 3 Comments

Since we returned to Mae Sot, it’s been a dark season. I’m not sure I can even put my finger on it, or words to it, except to say that I’ve wanted to move back more than ever before. I’ve questioned if anything is coming of this; if it is worth the heartache and challenges. If it is worth the mountain that constantly seems to lie in front of us.

While we were stateside, one of the ideas gnawing on me was this: I don’t just want to do good here. Good is, well, it’s innately good; but it’s so temporary. Take Flour & Flowers: I love it. It kills me every week, but I love it. I love that I can see the women learning new skills, building their confidence, and seeing their families better off. There are clear successes and clear results, which is unique in this work, and rewarding.

However, if we’re honest, it’s so minimal. They are still paperless; they are still poor. They are only slightly more comfortable and stable; and what happens when we go? Or people stop buying bread & flowers? It feels like you are working so hard for, well, a Band-Aid. A temporary relief of pain, while we’re all still stirring around in the same pot of brokenness.

{I told you this was a dark season, and I am wrestling with my own dark season. But I promise this post ends in great rejoicing. Get excited, and don’t give up on me!}

So I’ve been praying through this: how do we communicate hope in Christ? And how do we even continue to walk in it, broken situation after broken situation?

I’ve been praying through many prayers, wrestling through many questions, and crying many tears. Because I just feel like God hasn’t said to leave yet, but sometimes I’m not sure why we stay.

But this past week we have had some beautiful news.

And I’m simply going to report it in the order it came in, because really, where do you start? Apparently beginnings & conclusions aren’t my speciality. I’m just in for the long, long road in the middle.

First, two years ago in July 2015, we loaned a young couple a large sum of money. It was around $700, to help them pay off a loan they had taken with a loan shark & had a horrible interest rate–30% monthly if I recall correctly. Their plan to pay it off was to split up, with her moving to Burma pregnant & him staying behind to work it off. We offered a plan for them to pay it off in four months to us interest-free.

Two years later, it’s quite clear four months didn’t happen! After the first few $60 payments, they bailed for awhile. We then asked them to give her Flour & Flowers salary each week, about $9. And in $9 increments, for well over a year, they paid off the entire loan last week.

{Insert all the shock and awe and pride you can imagine.}

And then it gets even better: she told us last week that they now want to save with us! She’s going to continue giving us the $9 per week to save for their family!

{Internet writing is not equipped to express the emotions needed for this post, and even more is yet to come!}

And in another success story: Mwei Mwei is attending a sewing training here in town at a Christian organization, and she is loving it. We’ve “hired” her to do this training, and in just a couple weeks she’ll be sewing at our house five days a week. This will keep her with her family, out of a Bangkok job, and she’ll be able to study one hour a day.

She’s confident & smiling now; she’s excelling as a seamstress. Her mom tells me every week that she is so happy, and we couldn’t be happier.

I read a [horribly depressing] article this week on Al Jazeera about the loan business and prostitution that is all over Burma now. It talked about those at risk–taking loans, often from neighbors and friends, at ridiculous interest rates and ending up in endless debt. It talked about how many people are turning to prostitution to pay debts and survive. It talked about the young girls, dropping out of school at 13, and taking jobs for the family–sometimes in factories and sometimes in prostitution, but either way leaving them vulnerable for such situations in the future.

But while I read this, these weren’t vague stories: these were my best friends.

While I didn’t love the messy conversations about money or the ridiculousness of keeping track of $9 per week; while I don’t love hiring a 15-year-old and it isn’t easy to line up tutoring for her every day–it’s all worth it.

Because it’s keeping them from much worse, and it’s investing in dear, dear friends.

And now, the true jaw-dropper, friends.

For a long time, we’ve been attending church every week with one family–a couple with three boys–and then a whole lot of kids. We recently added a grandmother and a young girl with mental disabilities. And we always, always have lots of kids.

We’ve been inviting friends and telling them about our faith for years in the best language we can muster, and really, it’s been evident evangelism isn’t our gifting. We’re planters and waterers in this community.  But this family going with us: they are evangelizers. And so are our pastor & his wife.

And as of this week, six people from around our community are in a baptism class, and they’ll be baptized this Saturday at the local reservoir!

I don’t even begin to have the words or descriptions for this. One of them is our sweet little Yaminoo, who we’ve loved for so many years and prayed so many prayers for. And her dad–I don’t have the words.

All I know is that faith, hope, and love remain. All I know is that even if they are stirred in the pot of brokenness forever on this earth, faith, hope, and love will set their lives apart. All I know is that “he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me!'” (Luke 15:6,9)

Rejoice with us, friends. Because this is all worth something.

So if our adoption falls to pieces, or our social skills, or even our sanity: if we have jumped in this pot of brokenness with them and can only come home with more disorders and messes than we can ever deal with, it was all worth it. Because faith, hope, and love will remain.

Rejoice with us!

accentuate.

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

Some seasons it becomes vitally important that you accentuate the positives. And that is precisely this post: when I can’t find the words for all the situations around us, we’ll just accentuate the positives.

We made it to Bangkok last week, and overall had a good trip. We drove there so we could make a trip to Ikea (!!), which is a lot of good things in one sentence! We had a car that made it all the way to Bangkok and back with no problems (thanks, Hagelbergs!); Stephen also rocked Bangkok traffic for a week, which is quite an accomplishment. And we went to Ikea!

And one of the hotels we stayed in had the elevators covered in denim fabric?! It wasn’t a win. We stood in the middle so we didn’t touch the sides! 😂

We successfully completed our adoption course with about thirty other couples from around the world.

That’s us: we’re PAPs! That is, Prospective Adoptive Parents. I don’t know if they use this reference worldwide, but I would think any countries that use Pap smears wouldn’t. Just a personal opinion.

And since we’re accentuating the positives, I’ll just say that we finished the course!

Then we headed just outside of the city to visit our Burmese friends working in local factories. In short: Musana moved back to live with her mom, step-dad, & sister at the end of last year. While we were in America, her grandmother & cousin, Zen Yaw, moved there, too, to join the whole family.

The good part? The family is all together. Zen Yaw is reunited with his mom & dad, who he hasn’t lived with since he was an infant. Musana is with her family, and they are all in the apartment building. The grandmother has less responsibility, and they are overall doing better–the adults have jobs and are paid minimum wage; the apartments have running water and real walls; they are eating better.

The bad part? It’s pretty far from our street in Mae Sot, and we’re sad about that! They also aren’t able to go to school where they are, and there aren’t many kids to play with.

 But, we got to spend two days with them, and that was lovely. Zen Yaw remembered us and warmed up to us quickly; it was so fun to have him curl up into our laps. He also is doing really well for the amount of trauma he’s experienced in his 4 years.

They really are both doing so well emotionally, and they light up just having someone to play with. We played Chutes & Ladders, practiced some English workbooks, played games on our phones, and chatted with the adults. We try to bring them some toys, too, that are more long-lasting: dolls she can play with repeatedly; crafts they can do; English workbooks; a punching bag for Zen Yaw! And Stephen loaded up some videos onto a flash drive, so they can learn some English and listen to Bible stories, which they were oh-so-excited about.

As sad as it was to see them for such a short time, I can’t minimize the miracle it is to be able to see them after they’ve moved hours away. And we are truly glad to see them doing well and be able to reconnect with them often and continue to love on them any way we can.

And, because we drove, we wanted to find a place nearer to them to stay. We usually take a couple hours of train rides & taxis out to their house from the city. This time we found a resort about twenty minutes from them and decided to give it a try.

It was a WIN. It was set on 70 acres along the river, with beautiful paths and a lovely swimming pool.

They had three restaurants there, with food prepared from their on-site organic gardens. They also make soaps, teas, and other products organically right on their property, which was pretty great.

We got to go paddle boating out on the lake!

And now we’re back to Mae Sot, settled into our great new house and community space! We are loving it. Playhouse has gone so well in the afternoons, with kids coming from all over the neighborhood, and often parents, too.

We’re seeing moms coming with their young toddlers, sitting to play with them, read to them, and teach them. This is what we always hoped and envisioned, and it’s working!

I did attempt to teach Guess Who in Burmese, which was a bit of a disaster. Oh, well!

This week also held International Milk Day–who knew that was a thing?! It really just means milk was on sale and seemed a good treat for the kiddos!

This weekend, we braved a Bingo night! The first week we got back from America, Nyein Nyein asked when we’d have Bingo. (Nyein Nyein is an adult–one of the moms who bakes bread every Friday!😂) We recently have had a number of expatriates move back and leave us with some donations for the community. Since they are difficult to distribute evenly and fairly, Bingo is a great way to make it a fun community event and less of a stampede 😀 And we had SO much! In the photo below, the entire corner behind me was stuffed with clothes, shoes, bags, household items, toys, and other treasures.

And since this is all about accentuating the positive, I won’t dwell on the woman that grabbed a pile of things at the end and ran out the door…😳😡😕😡😣😡

Ultimately, it was chaotic and fun and everybody loved it.  We’ll do it again in another six months when our bravery has returned!

And, while the photo below is pathetic, it was a fun part of the week! Stephen is working on pieces of his OneHouse album and had a friend record some vocals and keys this week. It’s exciting to see projects moving forward, even if slowly.

So, here’s to accentuating the positives! Makes for easier blog-writing 😀