The Last Week

   This last week flew by. I cannot believe that the 2013 DTS lecture has come to a close. Welp, I guess time really does fly. And now it is time for Christmas break. Well, I guess I am officially on Christmas break even though I am not where I am spending my Christmas. Speaking of, I am at the airport and I am hungry. Only if I go get something to eat, I have to bring everything. TSA and everything, you know.
   It amazes me that I have spent the last seven and a half months here (not the airport, but Wisconsin). I have made some amazing friends, through SCF and this year’s DTS. I am excited at the possibility of going on outreach with the Nepal and India team (I still don’t have a plane ticket) and I know that, no matter what, God is going to work through the lives of everyone who goes- or stays.

   Lately, I have been thinking about why I do what I do. What are the real reasons? Not just what I want to think or hear, but, in my heart, why do I do something? Why would I purposely try to hurt someone or run from someone who might be the best person for my life? Why do I think I know what is best for me when there is a God who is in love with me and wants my best? Is it because I have watched love and know that there is something about it that is not real and true? Is it because I have thought to myself one too many times, “no, I would rather not have something that could or could not be true”. I am often so realistic it is sickening. I find I am void of hope many times. That my carcass is empty and shallow. Why is it that I will look for something, anything, to push people away?- especially men. Any little flaw or quirk- or even something positive. I look and look and then when I find it I come up with an excuse as to why we should not be friends. Why we should not even be acquaintances. The thing is, is that I know why I do many things. Including those.
   So, honestly, lately I feel God is challenging me. Specifically with this one question: are you willing?
   And to be honest, I am not sure if I am willing. What if something goes wrong? What if I end up hurt? What if I hurt someone so incredibly badly? But thinking I could do it by myself is what got me to this place. It is why I am now in this place. It is why I am now sitting at an international airport, trying to not go eat, people watching and thinking about all of this.
   I am a bit scatterbrained today and I cannot blame it on being busy because, as I said, I am sitting at the airport.
   Okay, I have another two hours. I am going to go eat… I will be back. Also, I love children at airports. There is a 5 or 6- year-old- boy talking about how cool it would be if the pillar holding up the building was an elevator... haha
   So I definitely ate some amazing food and had a great talk with my aunt. Something that I am wondering though is why is this flight so choppy? Haha And why I am I already hungry?
  I think about India and Nepal and my heart yearns to go. I yearn to step foot into that land and say I have been and my heart has met the people I have yearned to see for a decade now. How good is my God that He would give me this opportunity? And yeah, at the moment it looks like a lost opportunity, but you know what- my God is good no matter what.
   These past months, that phrase has been my song. It is always on my lips and ready to fall from my tongue at any moment, but not in an overused kinda way. Just simply in a way of, I have learned the truth. And therefore, I will speak it- and, hopefully, live it.

Retreat

   Well, I missed updating you last week, when I was on break for Thanksgiving... obviously, I was sleeping and sleeping some more. So now you know how my Thanksgiving went. haha
   Last Sunday, we began our "outreach retreats". My team (Nepal/India) decided we should go shopping on Sunday. I still want to know who thought going shopping with 12 people was a good idea. We had a good time, but by 2 pm I was done... we started at 1 pm. Although, I did buy a new sleeping bag at REI. I slept in it the whole week and was nice and warm. So I know I will be warm in Nepal and the rest of the winter here in Wisconsin. Sunday night, after supper, we began discussion time with a predetermined question: who are you? One of the staff team began with the answer (thankfully, it was not me). The answer could not be a simple, "My name is__ and I am __ years old.". We decided before we even began the retreat that those answers were, more or less, invalid. I was amazed at how well I could answer this question. Last year at this time, I definitely had to answer this question with, "I have no idea. God and I are in this stripping and peeling away process." One of the students answered the question that way and I was so proud of the fact that she did. It was a beautiful moment for me- and I know that if she allows the process to continue than she will eventually be in the place of "my God says this about me". 
   Sorry, went on a rabbit trail there. So we are answering this question and I am so impressed with the fact that I can say, "this is me" and it was true. The way that God has worked in my life in the last year is breath-taking, and frankly, beautiful. Sure, I have days when I choose not to listen to what God is saying about me, but then I have days when all I want to do is slow dance with my Saviour King because that is who He has created me to be. He says and I am. It is as simply as that. And it is really cool to see that in my own life I have said "God, who do you say I am?" and He has answered only with the truth of who I am. 
   Our nighttime discussions revolved around this question. Our days were filled with teachings on the art of storytelling and logistics and drama practice. Tuesday, before everyone went home, we sat in the living room of the house we were staying/meeting in and "Love Bombed" one another. (To be honest, I have no idea where that name came from, but the concept is like an encouragement circle.) Being with strictly the team made me so excited for outreach. All the students have money for a plane ticket and they are going with the one staff member who has money. haha
   I know my God will provide for Nepal and India. After all, He is a good Father. 
   So excited to be His hands and feet.

Been a Moment

It has been a while since I have updated and honestly, I did not look to see where I left off, so I am sorry if I seem to randomly come out of no where with some thoughts.

I am still in charge of meals for the DTS and the whole base (on Wednesdays) and, let's face it, I am having fun. At the end of the day I am exhausted, but knowing that "my kids" have eaten well today makes the tiredness worth it. I would rather be drained of all energy after having spent myself serving than having tons of energy with nothing to do all the time and gross food to serve. Although, I am craving pad thai. Which makes perfect sense with Thanksgiving right around the corner, right?

Tomorrow we have an outreach fundraiser and then our "Thanksgiving Love Feast". Coming together as a school and giving thanks to God for who He is and what He has done. I am rather excited. Outreach (team) retreats follow that. We will take Sunday-Tuesday to hang out as the Nepal and India team and just get to know each other and hang out and love on God and His children (our teammates).

As most of my time is spent in the kitchen, I find I do not spend too much time with the students, so I feel there is this block between me and them and the way we interact. Many of the students think I am rather serious and strict. Which, if you know me at all, is rather close to being the truth, but lately God has been teaching me how to be a kid. Today, the girls who are on lunch clean-up and I had a flour fight. (Don't worry, I reused the flour...to throw at them again.) I am relearning guitar, so that puts me with the musically inclined students more often and I find that just being around helps too. The worst part about all of it though is that often times, I am fighting for the energy to be around everyone. Oh, to be an introvert... :/ Sometimes, I wish I was more extroverted and then other days I get tired just thinking that thought.

The more I realize how much I have changed since May the more amazed I am. I would have never thought I could run a kitchen for 50 people. Let alone get the meals out in an edible manner and on time.

Well, I need to go make pies for tomorrow night.

The Ten Year Dream

  I feel like I am constantly asked "What is your plan?" when I tell people I have quit school to one day go into the mission field overseas. And I feel that what they are essentially asking is "what is your 5 yr, 10 yr, or life plan". Unfortunately, I don't have one.
   Or at least a solid one. My goal is to one day live life in a community of nobodies, showing them Jesus- being the feet and hands of a Man who gave everything for me. So why should I not give everything for Him? And that is what I plan on doing. That IS my life plan.
   But the title of this post is about something different.
   This post is amount a dream that will (hopefully) be fulfilled.
   Those who know my heart well know that since I was around 12 or so I have wanted to go to India. I had no idea why. I had no specific issue on my heart or anything specific area in India. I just knew I wanted to go. I knew I HAD to go. And for almost 10 years I have waited, usually rather impatiently, for an opportunity to go. Two years ago, I enrolled in the DTS here in Madison with the intent of going to India. Last year, for my outreach with YWAM Madison, I went to Thailand (as you know).
    However, what most of you do not know is the struggle. The desire to obey God and yet the want to fulfill a dream that I felt God was snatching from me. I struggled because I had told people that I was finally going to be able to go to India, and yet I felt like God was saying no. What kind of God would do that?- The good kind. The kind that wants what is best for me.
    This year though....this is the year. I am going to Nepal and India.

Oh Man! We Begin tomorrow!

It is hard to believe that a year ago, I was double and triple checking my duffle bag and hoping I would wake up on time to catch my 6 am flight. Catch the flight, I did. And I made it to Madison- and my whole world changed. All because I followed God's lead. It still amazes me.

And tomorrow, it begins all over again- only this time I am not a student. I am so excited for what God is going to do in the lives of the staff and students this year. I know He is going to do amazing things in each of their lives. I am going into this time with an expectation that their worlds will be so radically changed by the truth of who God is that no matter what they do they will not be able to get away from the heart He has for them and for the world. Whether that is here in America or around the world somewhere. Oh! If only I could share my excitement with you!

Hey, while we are on this topic of the students coming, be praying that as they feel overwhelmed or lost or excited or any other feeling that they would also have a "peace that surpasses all understanding". 

Thanks, my friends.

Also, I forgot to mention, I still owe money for my SCF, so be praying I get that in and raise my monthly support. 

Two Dogs and Menus

     The students in the Summer DTS are getting ready to go on outreach and it has me thinking about Thailand and Memuyl and all the other people I encountered. One of the girls asked me if I did anything stupid on outreach. I simply looked at her and shook my head. If you do not know me it is easy to assume I would have been the one to stay as close to the house(s) as possible, but that is not me. Especially when I am in a foreign country and there is so much to explore... and I am on a team of almost twenty people. Do not get me long, I loved every moment with them, but I had to have time to myself- and that usually happened by wandering around Thailand. Not the whole country, but where we were at. (;
     So, I would wander- a lot. My leaders knew I was going out, and one of them (who is a mother) would always tell me to be careful. I would get what time (roughly, since we are talking Thai time) I would need to be back and set off. I ended up getting lost multiple times- since I have a knack for that and all. But lost or not, something that always ended up happening was this: a man would start to follow me. You would think after the first time I would have stopped going out, but it did not deter me too much, if at all. So I would be walking and staring and taking in every part of whatever town/city we were in and I would begin to feel like someone was watching me. I'd half turn, act like I was looking at a booth/store and check to see what was going on around me. Many times there would be some man I had passed ten minutes prior not too far behind me. Being aware of this, I would make more turns through the town and be checking continually. One thing about living where we were was that I had to walk down a long, rather closed and mostly deserted road. Actually, many roads were like this. So being followed, I would begin to pray about it. Asking God to help me remember where to go and show me a shortcut, and make him go away. Without fail, two dogs would come and walk on either side of me. (Mind you, these are street dogs- you don't mess with them.) Within five minutes, the man would be gone. Every.Single.Time.
     Also, I am in the middle of my week "off". I have been working on the menus and I am so happy to say that I have finally completed them. Oh, what joyous relief. And now I need to fundraise. Yay!
     Also, I moved. So send me something. I like letters. And I am running out of pens and stamps. Just saying. Oh, I also like Nutella. (;

Wither on

It has been over a week since the SCF has ended. A week of feeling so tired and ,yet, accomplished and proud.

This past week, there was a Children @ Risk Seminar being held at the base in Madison, so I helped with that and this following week continues week 2 and the first (and only) week of Community Development Seminar. I am hoping to sit in on the Community Development Seminar as much as I can while still doing what needs to be done.

I am officially staff at YWAM Madison and, I feel, settling in nicely. It is almost the beginning of a new season- and that is a little scary, but I am looking forward to it. I think being here and working with the Fall DTS (Discipleship Training School) will be amazing and help launch me into the next part of what God has for me.

So excited.

Weeks 10,11, and 12

Wow, I got really bad at keeping y'all up to date on my adventure in the School of Communications Foundations. Let's catch up really quickly.
Week 10 was trends in communication. I thought this week was really fun. The speaker was a professor at the university here in Madison and I really enjoyed him. He focuses on educational gaming. So what did we do? We made a game! I partnered up with three of the guys and we built a game based on the North Korean prison camp, Camp 22. I learned a lot about North Korea during that time and all I did was help design the camp. One of the guys and I are hoping to finish it, but I do not know how realistic we are being in that dream. This guy is actually the one who led my outreach with his wife and he will be entering into a co-leadership role out at the Training Center and will be one of the leaders of the new DTS. So pray for him because he is coming out of a school and jumping into leading a school of a little under forty students. That was quite a side note. haha So week 10 was awesome.
Week 11.... Intra personal communication week. This week was amazing and at the same time, I despise it. Just being honest. Intra personal communication is how you talk inside yourself. (Hence, intra.) The speaker led us into a time of looking at Moses and the burning bush. Moses began to believe various lies about himself while he was in the desert. For example, Moses was raised with the princes of the land of Egypt and therefore, given the same education. All the princes were taught how to speak. To be influential speakers. In the New Testament (I have to look up where) it says that Moses was one of the best speakers in the land, but Moses is at the burning bush saying "No God, I cannot speak". Which is not true because he was trained. But he began to believe lies. We all do. Week 11 included a presentation: Risk Night. Basically, it is all in the name. This was a night about taking risks.  What did I do? Well, why would you want to know that. :P 
I had the worst time trying to figure out what a "risk" was for me. Performance wise, there is really not one. I have done almost everything possible on a stage and not a single thing is really a risk. There are some things that would freak me out more than others, but all in all, it was not about doing something on stage. For me, this night was what I would be saying. Actually, I did not say anything the whole entire time I was on stage- I did a mime to a voice-over. And I was shaking the whole time as I bared the truth of who I am. I tried to hide so much and for my risk, I peeled back layers and layers of who I try to pretend to be and try to show other people. My risk: vulnerability. Looking back, I can still not believe I was vulnerable with people I did not know super well.
Week 11: success
Week 12 was debriefing. How was the school, the leaders/staff, etc. Oh and a review. Over all: it was alright. Extremely tiring.
I am still realizing the different things I have learned throughout these three months and I am excited to continue in my new skills and this thing of vulnerability. For now, my next step is remaining in Wisconsin. I move out to the countryside in a couple of weeks and will be living there from September onward. New and exciting stories and lessons.  

Week 7,8, and 9!

Oh dear, so much has happened in the last month. So I am going to just go week by week and keep it concise, hopefully.

Week 7 was Biblical Worldview taught by the man who runs another school here- the Bible School for the Nations. He taught on worldview and how God is a God of justice. I had a hard time accepting this thought, so I have spent most of this month working through and processing that. We looked at how we need to remove our own lenses of what our world is and put on God's. Only then can we truly see change.

Week 8 was interpersonal week. Honestly, I found it a lot like active listening week. Of just constantly listening and being willing to communicate. He is a marriage counselor, so a lot of his teaching reflected on many of those aspects, but we were able to tie it into friendships and such as well.

Week 9 was special topics week. So we learned about hospitality and social media. During the days of hospitality, we looked at how hospitality radiates the face of God and how He always accepts, embraces, and cares for us. Social media: we looked at how today, many missionaries have a hard time raising support because we have moved to a digital age and many are trying to friend raise in a paper age. We looked at the pros and cons of both of these and how we can actually intertwine both.

These last few weeks have been great, but the highlight was this last Friday, the 19th. I turned in my 15 page research paper on the Thai people and their culture. Such a relief to have that in. Only three big projects left. And then graduation! And onto my next adventure. How did this go by so quickly?!

Week 6: Cross Cultural Communication

This week was amazing. I wish you could have been here to enjoy it with me. Before I go off of this week though I just want to say: this could be a long post.

Sunday night found me upset in the parking lot. I was crying and I could barely think. I simply wanted to leave and not come back. I was leading "Discovery" in the morning and I had everything ready, but I was getting so stressed about other things- like my 15 page research paper that I could not find any new information on and the fact that I did not feel 100% safe around one of the guys here. And so on, and it was all just really overwhelming and frightening.
Looking at my life today, I find I am afraid of a lot. And it is really saddening. How am I to tell others of my great God when I am often too afraid to open my mouth? Out of fear of being wrong, or starting a fight, or not being understood. How am I to tell others about the redemption of Jesus Christ when I am too scared to allow Him to redeem me? What are they going to do- look at me and say sarcastically "yeah, that has worked out well for her". And you know what, it would be true. I have not let God fully redeem me. But not just the things that mean I will change: I am scared of the dark and reading aloud (because I get agitated and start to slur and lisp my words) and sitting and having a meaningful conversation. I am scared of meeting new people and being honest with those I do not know super well. I am scared of being accepted for me (yeah, not rejected) and being loved for me. I am scared of not knowing myself and what I am thinking and feeling, but at the same time I am comfortable with that. I am scared of loving only to lose. (I hate losing.) The list would take too long to complete...and it is depressing. (;
I live in a place of constant fear. In any situation, if I let myself, I can find a reason to be afraid. But that is not who God has called me to be. I shared about Memuyl and Thai and Singo and Mae and Pon and all the others whose names I have no idea how to spell or never heard how to say correctly. I shared about how I felt brokenhearted each time we left a location. But one thing I realized was I was the loser each and every single time. The people I met will never know how they effected me. They will not know the lessons I learned, nor will they know the true,genuine love I felt for them. And that is okay. It is not relevant to where I am going with this. The point I am trying to make is this: I faced my fear. Without realizing it at the time, but I did. (I cannot really say I have been working on the scared of the dark one, but my roommates do not seem to mind.)
God has more in store for me than I can imagine. And I have a GREAT imagination. For those of you who have ever read or heard something I have written, you know firsthand I am speaking the truth. So if I imagine something awesome for my life, how much more spectacular is God imagining something? But I have to stop being afraid. I have to be willing to try.
So back to this week. Monday morning I am leading Discovery. Discovery is based off of Psalm 104 (I think that is right). So I read through the psalm a few different times before I saw something that really stuck out to me. In verses 5-9, the author of the psalm is talking about the flood. I began to look at the folklore (Folklore is simply a unwritten story.) of the flood. I looked at the different cultures/societies that have a story of the flood, which are a lot. Then I began to look at the flood itself. Water was destructive. The flood (water) destroyed the Earth. People, animals, just life- destroyed. It made me wonder, was Noah ever afraid of water after the flood? I know I would be. Each time the skies opened up I would look for the rainbow- even before the rain ended. As I am thinking about this, I wonder how has God, in a sense, redeemed the ocean (water)? I looked up information on the water. The water provided over half of the oxygen we breathe. It is life-giving. It went from being destructive to life-giving... it has truly been redeemed. As I looked at this on Monday morning, I could not help but ask where is it God is saying this was once destructive in your life, but I am going to redeem it into something life-giving? For me there are many places. What about for you?
Then our speaker arrives and the first thing out of his mouth is "Just try. Stop being afraid and try." This was exactly what I needed to hear. And I will probably need to hear it again before the month is up. (Yes, I am aware there are only two days left.) This was so profound to me because of what my friend and I had discussed the night before and because of the fact I had been wanting to try but I was too afraid of failing. 
The next morning John, our speaker, shows up and says I have a word of encouragement. What he said definitely did not make me feel encouraged! He said this: You will fail. I first felt defeated and really confused, but as I began to grasp what he was saying I realized how encouraging it actually was. I will fail. I will fail when I try. But that is a part of learning and growing. As a child, how many times do we stop and think before we fail? How many times do we fail? How many times do we let that failure stop us from trying something else?
I let it stop me from trying everything, but now I refuse to let it hold me back. I want to be a child. Ready to learn at all times. Whether it be from my friends or family or from someone who is trying to teach me how to do things their way in their culture. I want to learn. Like a child. A child who is not judging others, but simply willing to learn.
That is what this week was all about. Being like a child. Being willing to learn the way Jesus did. What an example we have in Jesus!

Tuesday, June 25

Obviously this post is not going to be about what the teaching as it has yet to finish... but it does involve the school, so hopefully it is not too boring.

Monday and Tuesday mornings are devotion and prayer mornings, respectively. This week is no exception. I led devotion yesterday and a classmate, Lo, led prayer (intercession) this morning. Lo and I both have a heart for human trafficking- as do many other people around the YWAM Madison base. Lo had us pray for the issue of human trafficking, but it did not just stop at prayer.

I walk into the classroom and sit down hoping I do not get too jumpy. Lo had already told me what was going to happen as a courtesy to me.
There is a cup of something in front of us. "Drink it, then put your head on the table and close your eyes." The drink was warm, so I drank fast and then put my head down and closed my eyes.
My head is yanked up and a blindfold is placed on me. I can feel my heart thudding, and I want to fight, but I know I cannot. "Often times traffickers will drug women."
"Get up, walk," I hear them barking orders. Then there is silence. I have not moved, did they forget about me? Then I hear them come back in to the room, someone grabs me and pushes me toward the door. One of the staff members has her hand on my shoulder. She is using me to lead her. I walk into a door. (I seriously did this.) I push the door open, still blindfolded and walk into one of the "hustlers". She leads us out the front door to a waiting van. We wait for only a second and then we begin to drive. It is raining outside, I can hear it. We drive for a couple of minutes before we are shuffled out of the car.
It is dark, and humid, and a little musty. "You may take off your blindfolds now." We pull off our blindfolds and listen as Lo reads out Psalm 10:7-18. As I reread the psalm I realize how applicable it is... we partner up and begin to pray. My classmate and I pray for the traffickers, women involved and children. We thank God that He sees all.
We are re-blindfolded and shuffled back to the van. (And they almost leave me.) We begin to drive again. "Many times, traffickers have government officials on their side whom they have bribed to allow them across the border."
We are pulled out of the car and led down to the basement of the building we started in. It is dark, we are not allowed to talk, and I do not like being led to some undefined place. A woman's wail fills the air, I hit a random filing cabinet. Where am I?
We begin to pray again. This time with different partners and for whatever God is putting on our hearts about this issue. I go back to the issue of the men. It is not a head issue. They can know it is wrong, but that does not matter to them. It is a heart issue. So we pray. We pray for a complete 180 degree turn. That these men would in turn become these girls' advocates.

Just thought I would share my morning and journey with you.

Week 4 AND 5: Creative Writing and Active Listening

Oops, sorry. I do not know how the whole week went by without an update. Well, I do. I was busy. haha

Week 4
Creative Writing
Definitely a good week. Out teacher was actually one of our staff members, which was nice. I tried REALLY hard to pay attention at all times, but some of the students in the class had never really done creative writing which meant she had to go over the basics. Good review though. On Friday night, we had an "Authors Night". We spoke the pieces we had written. Another student and I wrote two, we were also the ones who introduced and closed the time. I had fun, expect they made us dress up- and you all know that I develop a rash if I stay dressed up for too long. haha! I cannot believe how many people believe me each time I say that. It makes me laugh. (: Anyway, I ended up with an "A", so that was nice.

Week 5
Active Listening
Who would have thought active listening meant you had to talk?! Definitely a good week although not my favorite. Is it bad if I would just rather not talk at all? I feel like it is.. mainly because I know God has more for me than being mute in places where I do not feel comfortable. Anyway, I now have some really good tools in the realm of listening. And hopefully, I will stop being so scared and go up to talk to people... who knows, that is a rather large step.

Also, as I have mentioned before, I have been accepted on as YWAM Madison staff. I was given an update: I will be staying out at the Training Center with the DTS and my friends who are coming back on as DTS staff. This is good news as the rent, food, and utilities will be all rolled into one, rather low price. Although, I do not have enough monthly support to not fundraise. So I need to do that these next couple of months. If only there was someone to keep me accountable... but not in the "You need to kill yourself fundraising and doing the school" kind of way.

All for now.

Week 3: Research Week

This week was amazing! I learned so much from the speaker and life around the Global Missions Center (GMC).
Our speaker, Heather, gave us a model to look at this week. We looked at gender-cide in North Korea. Gender-cide is the killing of humans based on their gender. Often we will find these killings taking place during childhood against little girls. Heather had us look at how the different religions the country has followed has helped shape the view that men are more important than women. Why?
Many times, I thought now we are getting to the heart of the issue! But we were not there yet. We had only just begun.
God is a researcher. Therefore, in my DNA, I am one too. I may not research in the traditional sense, but I learned valuable tools from Heather that will help me research for my research paper and, hopefully, in years to come.
It is necessary to ask the correct questions.

SCF- Week 2

I fell ill yesterday, our last day of public speaking week. At least it was after we gave our speeches.
This week was on Public Speaking. The school leader, Amy, taught this week. Good week.

Feeling hungry, so I am going to eat before my body says no.


Sunday- update

Feeling a lot better today.
Public speaking is a serving gift. You look at your audience and you see what they need and then you give them what they need.
Public speaking is spiritual warfare. Last week we learned that when we speak we create. There will be times when we will be speaking in front of crowds and we will be creating a living and holy atmosphere.
Your audience is always number one. Or for those of you who like that phrase "For an audience of One". Either way, the audience is first and foremost. A speaking engagement is not about you, the speaker, it is about them, the audience.

"When we have the tools, you never know what kind of doors will open up."
-Amy, SCF leader and Public Speaking teacher

School of Communications Foundations- Week One

Fundamentals. This week started out really quickly.
I arrived Sunday evening, flying through a storm cloud. One of  my friends picked me up. I was so happy to see her. As soon as I arrived at the building I would be living in, I began to unpack. It is a mental thing. Once I am officially done, I am officially home or something. I don't know haha
We began class on Monday and went until Wednesday afternoon. Then we went on a retreat. We went out to the building I was at in my previous school, the training center, fondly dubbed the TC. Away from everyone and everything, we began to bond. We had times set up to intentionally get to know one another.
Part of me still wishes they asked the easy questions, but they did not. By the end of the first day, I was too exhausted for words. And I did not sleep well. Then the next day, instead of asking about our pasts, they asked us about our future. So glad, but what exactly is my future?
Is it what people have dreamt up for me? What I have dreamt up poorly for myself?- No, I know that is not it. I have already seen those plans fail.
As of right now, I am staying in Madison, WI until further notice from the Lord. I still really feel like this school and the time in Madison in the fall will be significant beyond comprehension.
Well, I have homework.

Steps of Faith

One day, I want to be like those mentioned in Hebrews 11. I want to have it said of me: "By faith, Maya..." and then whatever it was.
Went to Thailand.
Went to SCF.
I want to be known for my child-like, innocent faith.
The kind people see and are mesmerized by. The kind that is simple, but not naive.

So close. Sunday, take your time coming!

Why?

Lately, as I have been talking to a friend and lamenting the cold truth that I may not be going to SCF I have thought on this question much: Why do I want to go back? Why do I want to do missions? As I think on it, I see Memuyl and Simon and Mae and the kids at both the hostels and I see all of Grade 4. I see Thai and Singo Mae and Coco and NuNu. There is not a single story I can pinpoint and say "This! This is why!" It is a collection of all of them. It is the thought that these friends and kids could grow up and never hear the name of Jesus again. That they would never see the true love of their true Lover again. (Not saying that I am the only one who can do that.) I think about it and my heart aches, but it is more than that. It hangs on this fact: the greatest injustice in the world is never hearing the name of Jesus. Never knowing the truth of this Man.
I have been working on this piece for about two weeks now and I think I am finally done.  Enjoy. (: and feel free to give constructive criticism.

You know that saying, “Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”?

It is a bunch of nonsense.

The pain of loving only to loose; the pain of knowing before the game even begins that you will be a loser. The loser.

The single second it takes to realize that your heart had been stolen and the thief did not care. And it might not even be that they did not care; it could be simply they could not help it, as much as you could not. I know this because I met someone like that. More than one.

I remember the first time we met.

It was hot and humid and all I wanted to do was sleep after having none on the twelve- hour bus ride. We had just eaten and the money we had had left over we were going to spend on a treat, but we took you out to eat instead. You stole my heart in an instant.

From the very start, I loved.

Later that day, I met my other kids. They lived on the same street. We played together every day, usually a game of ling-chin-bon, monkey-in -the -middle.  They would teach me simple words and laugh at my mispronunciation of them. It was in these moments that I loved.

Then came goodbye.

Saying goodbye. I am sure that if I cried blood, I would have lost a pint. I would have needed a transfusion. Then a doctor to tell me I would survive. And perhaps I would have believed him, but more than likely not.

Normally, I do not cry at goodbye. But I loved them from the start.

I loved and lost.

Who said this was better?

Another bus; please God, no more. I cannot bear my own brokenness and we have only just begun.

There were so many and at the moment, I could hardly remember my own name.

They loved trying to say it though. They taught me a song in their native tongue and then in the country’s tongue. Two separate languages. And I loved them from the start.

Then we went into the mountain.

The whole way up I begged God. I did not want to love and lose. I did not want to be the loser again. No, I refuse.

But He beckoned to me,

Be My hands, be My feet.

Essentially, love.

And lose.

It was that first night. I was scared to death, not certain what they were saying, not understanding their games, so I danced. I was teaching the newest rendition of the chicken dance and laughing at their beautiful young faces when I fell in love.  After teaching, possibly eating dog meat, strange lights in the middle of the night, building a pond, bucket showers after a mud fight in the cooling temperatures, leaving was the hardest thing.

I had loved and lost more than I ever had before and, still, we were not done.

At the next house there were no kids, no children on the street to play with; we were too far away from the border for another urchin to steal my heart. Here, I would be safe. Here, I could survive.

Then, the unthinkable, we arrived at the school and Grade Four automatically had me. Had my heart.

Even in the very beginning, I knew I would be a loser again. And in that classroom,  between The Hare and the Tortoise and Maung Pau’s Egg, I loved and lost.

It is better to love and to lose than to have never loved at all.

Who would think that? Even better, who would say that?

I call nonsense. I scream nonsense.

Whoever said that had obviously not met my kids.

They did not have to live with the heartache. They did not have to live with the knowledge that they had loved and lost and might possibly never have again.

I call nonsense.

Then I think. What if God had said, as I am saying, not true. What if He had said: It is so much easier to simply not love. So much easier to not care. So much easier to forget about it all and move on. So much easier to leave this place and give them no hope.

It is better to love and to lose than to have never loved at all.
I cannot help but think this is true. That there is a solid, concrete foundation beneath this old saying.  That somewhere out in this vast world some other man or woman is saying the same thing.

Does not mean it hurts any less.

It is better, yes. It truly is better.

‘Cause as I think back, I would not give up a single moment. I would not take back a single smile, a single laugh. I would not retract a single hug or a single moment of broken conversations.  And though I would have loved to have cried less, I know that those tears fell for the first time because I had not only loved, but I had loved the least of these. I had loved the ones who could not or would not return that love. And now, after all of this, I understand just a little bit better the love of a beaten, broken Man on a cross.
Requiring nothing in return;

Saying simply,

I love you.

Also, I could not have finished this piece without help. So thank you. (You know who you are.)

Words

   As someone who adores words- mostly in their written form- I have been looking at the power of the word.

   Have you ever noticed that during a fight the last the you care about is what is coming out of your mouth? You just spew off whatever comes to mind, whatever your brain finds in the moment of 'I just want to hurt you'. And when you see that you have successfully hurt that person you might cheer, you might feel grief, you might feel nothing. Now, I am not going to tell you what you should or should not do during that time, I am here to talk about the power of our words.

   How often do you think before you speak?

   When I am excited? Rarely. When I am upset? Not usually. When I am by myself? I speak very freely to myself. When I am around people that I do not know? Usually, I just do not speak. What about you?

   In the Bible it says "Life and death are in the power of the tongue" (Proverbs 18:21). Have you ever stopped to think what that really means? James 3 talks all about the tongue, and therefore, the words we speak. In verses 8- 10, But no one can tame the tongue; it is a restless evil and full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the likeness of God; from the same mouth come both blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not be this way. How awful! I talk about the people that frustrate me or that make me want to scream and I can say awful things and then I turn around and say God, You are good. Bless Your holy name! Why? How? It is disgusting when you think about it.

   When you wake up in the morning and you look in the mirror, what do you say? What is your first reaction? Is it, "hello, gorgeous" or is it more along the lines of "please, tell me I do not really look this way"? What you say about yourself has power. I rarely look at myself in the mirror first thing in the morning. My first thing is to get caffeine, but when I do make it to the mirror, often my reaction is "God, You did a great job. (Although, I still have freckles.)" I think a lot of that confidence has come from DTS and learning the truth about myself. Having this outlook about myself though, changes everything I say about myself. Have no doubt, some days I look at myself and I think God messed up on more than just my freckles, but then I come back to the truth. And I speak it. I write it.

   Having put in my hours in front of people from public speaking to theatre performances, I know what it means to have to look and act a certain way. I know what it means to have your annunciation critiqued and hammered on. Despite all of that, I enjoyed the stage and I learned many tricks backstage.

   For example, if I was backstage saying over and over again, "I am going to be horrible", I usually was. Not because of nerves, no certainly not. My words about how horrible or horrendous I would be affected my atmosphere. My words sat in the atmosphere and affected everything- my performance, my attitude, and my belief in myself. On the other hand, right before a speech, if all I kept saying to myself, "You are going to be the best one out there. The judges/professor/etc are not going to know what hit them."it was true. Even if I stumbled over the words, even I forgot my attention getter (which I always memorized), even if I fell on my way up to the stage, my confidence in myself was so high that it did not matter. I delivered the best speech time after time. Often, a perfect score or just a mark or two below. Was it because I practiced a lot beforehand and rehearsed and rehearsed- no! Do not do as I did, but I rarely practiced a speech. More often than not, I improved and ad libbed. The words that I said to myself, about myself...

   I had a friend tell me that they could never speak to a group in a public setting the way that I did/do. I simply looked at him and thought 'yeah, with that attitude and those words you will not. You cannot.' What I said however, I do not remember. Probably a simple, yes you will. Want to know something- if you watch closely, before and after I step foot onto the stage, I am so nervous I am shaking. And I am telling myself, "You are going to knock their socks off". 

    As a person who likes to write a lot, I find that I have to be careful about what I write and how I write what I do write. Not going to lie, some days are harder than others and I choose to write about a fight or altercation I had with someone. And I keep that "record of wrong" that true, perfect love does not keep....

  All I am trying to say is this, take time to think about the power of your words. Think about your jokes- are they funny or do they just hurt and cause damage? Is the advice you give people allowing light and life or is it destroying and causing death? 

  Think before you speak.

  Think about a bully. Are you being a verbal bully? Be a bully of love. Shower people with it. Overwhelm people with it.

  Oh, a cardinal! Beautiful.

My Father

I have been thinking about my time in the classroom lately. Today, I have been thinking about God's Father-ness.
In the Bible, it tells us that God is our Father. What does that even mean? We took a week on this topic. I have a different experience than most when it comes to looking at God as my Father.
We looked at the ways we look at our earthly fathers. Was he performance/task oriented? Was he abusive? Was he absent?
Now, how do you look at God? When you hear that He is your heavenly father what do you think of?
Do you think you have to perform and do, do, do? Or that if you do something wrong He will smite you? Or that He is not really close to you- that He is absent?
In 1 Corinthians 13 it says "we see through the mirror dimly". This is true about just life in general. But also, in our view of God and His infinite love for us.
We often see God the way we see the man who raised us. That father figure in our life.
I have been accepted into both the School of Communication Foundations and on staff in Madison. In order to go to the school I am still in need of over $3,000 USD and to be on staff I need monthly support. The school begins in one month exactly and I have a totally of about $150 for it. But I know that this is what I am supposed to do next.
If I do not go then what? Is God not a good Father then?
NO! He is still the best, most amazing Father. He is still good.
And if I do not go then I will still say, Praise be to the One on High. Praise be to my Father.

Morning Glory School&&Mae Sot

Watch the video of Morning Glory Learning Center

At our last stop, Mae Sot, we had the opportunity to work and partner with Pastor Michael, founder of Morning Glory Learning Center. We had the opportunity to teach and lay the floor of a new kitchen at the school. I also saw a huge breakthrough in my life during this time.

It took me four days to finish a journal entry we were so busy.
January 31- I began the story of Ruth. In chapter one something hit me hard.
Naomi and Ruth arrive back in Bethlehem after Ruth's whole thing of "Where you go I will go." (Which is awesome.)  and in Bethlehem, the women begin to notice Naomi. I can just imagine them whispering to each other as Naomi passes them. Asking themselves and one another, "Is this not Naomi?" I feel like Naomi's response to them was more out of irritation that anything else, but I do not know for sure.
February 3- Naomi speaks and says "No longer call me Naomi, instead call me Mara." (Paraphrased) Futhermore, she says "I went out full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why do you call me Naomi, since the Lord has witnessed against me and the Almighty has afflicted me?"

I found this extremely significant. I believe in the power of the name. Naomi means pleasant, but Mara means bitter. Not only is she changing her name, but she is embracing the bitterness she feels toward life. She tells the Israeli people in verse 20 that "the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me".
Through life's circumstances, through the things that did not go her way, she allowed herself to become bitter and, eventually, took a new name.
Reading this, I felt like God was saying "Your story is going to be the same, but opposite". At first, I did not understand what He could mean by this. How is a story the same, but opposite? Then I realized. I understood days later.
My name, Maya, means bitter. The Maya people were some of the most bitter people and my name comes from my heritage in those people. Unfortunately, I have lived up very well to my name, but that is not who I am anymore. Not just through DTS, but through spending time with Jesus and letting Him tell me who I am and who He made me to be. I have a new name. It is tattooed on my heart.

Realizing this brought much joy and confusion to my life and my time in Mae Sot. Confusion simply because if I am not the meaning of my name then who am I? (I hope that made sense.) I found so much joy in the Grade 4 classroom and I find I miss them daily. I miss playing word games and reading stories and trying not to laugh at their failed attempts of pronouncing "tortoise". I miss laughing with them and harassing them when I really should not have been in the classroom. That classroom brought so much truth into my life and watching those kids succeed made me wish that I could have stayed.

I want to share one of my favorite memories at the school. One I hold dear to my heart and one that, as I think on it, I want to cry from missing the children and teachers there.
We had been working hard on The Hare and the Tortoise.  We had gone over each word that was hard, each word they did not know yet. We played games and reread the story focusing on those words. When one would get them I was so proud. When everyone seemed to have it, I decided to split the story up and assign each student a part. At first, they were so scared then, as they saw their peers doing what they thought they could not, they became excited. So the story was split into thirteen sections and we took about ten minutes with so many of them coming up to me saying "Sister, sister. This word what is?" Then I finally said it was time to read. Thai stood up first and began, then Singo, then each student and we made it through the story. We went back over the harder words and they asked to do it again. I was so proud of them and it was over the fable of The Hare and the Tortoise that those kids claimed a piece of my heart.

Don't forget to check out the video if you have not already!

School of Communication Foundations

Hey y'all,
Man, do I enjoy hearing that out of every other person's mouth. I have decided I like Texas and the weather here.
Since being here, I have been accepted into the School of Communication Foundations! I have also celebrated a birthday and been rejected by my old boss. Truth be told, he is trying to get me a slot at one of the other stores, so I can work a little while I am here.
School of Communication Foundations! (SCF) I am excited and yet terrified. Well, not terrified, but definitely nervous.
What is the SCF?
SCF is focused on bringing the Word of God to the world. We will go over speaking, writing and, the key of communication, listening. We will learn and be trained. We will start at the very beginning and we will lay a new Godly foundation.
I am so excited about this school. As many of you know, I like to write. I feel like this school will allow me to do that in a way that God has designed me to. I am not certain what will happen during this school, but I do know that this is where I am to be during this time in my life.
So excited! And please be praying!

Life After Graduation

  We graduated on the 12th of March and since then my DTS family has gone all over the world to their respective homes. It is crazy to think that each one of them have a piece of my heart and have played a huge part in my journey. Especially since before DTS I was not even sure if I would be able to make any friends. How faithful my Father has proved Himself to be! Not only did I make friends, but I made friends that will last a life-time.
  Mind you, I am not naive enough to think that we will all live happily ever after or that no one will face hardship, but I do know, that as long as we remain honest with one another than we can have 40+ people praying and supporting us in a blink of the eye. And I continue to meet people that I can add to this list.
  I am finishing off my thank you cards and as I am doing this I am finding that a handful of people never got theirs! I am so heartbroken! I hate having any of y'all think that I just wanted your money/prayers. I am sure this is my fault for not putting them in the mailbox myself and I would not be surprised if  YWAM calls me and says "hey, we found a handful of thank you notes in the office." Oh boy. But it does not matter what happened. Cards are being written and hopefully by the end of tomorrow everyone will have received/have one in the mail. If you find yourself without please, please let me know. I do not want you to think I have forgotten you.
  Also, I will post more about the school and staffing when I learn I am accepted. And of course, I will make a couple of posts about how I see I have changed during my six months of training with YWAM Madison.
  It just might take a week...or five.

Stateside

Right now we are in our Stateside Outreach phase. During this time, we have split into five teams and have gone across the Midwest and East Coast of America. We are telling our stories and raising awareness of the various issues we have seen and encountered along the way.
Tonight, we went to a youth group here in Madison. I shared the spoken word I had written about my time in Mae Sai with the street kids and sang a song with the ever so needed help of a teammate.
Here is what I wrote:

Memuyl, Mae Sai, Thailand 2013

I was with two friends the first day I met him. It was like I entered a trance; I became mesmerized by the scene unfolding before me.  There he was: so young; so precious; so dirty. His face was covered with dirt and grime. It made him look so much darker than he already was with his tan skin and dark eyes. His eyes captivated me. They told a story of too much hurt, too much rejection and extreme brokenness. And then they would shut off and I could see nothing. There he was in his torn, ratty blue shirt begging for money. He would switch back and forth between Thai, Burmese and English Asking for only a baht, less than a cent.  I wanted to call him over and hug him. Hold him. Keep him in the safety of my arms. I wanted to defend him from more of life’s cruel blows.

His name is Memuyl. He is nine years old. He and his friends live under the bridge they beg on during the day. There is no mother, no father. He does not go to school. He is addicted to glue. He acts tough because he has to be. And he is sassy like nobody’s business.

We took him and three of his friends out to lunch that first day. They led us to a restaurant they said they liked and we ordered food. The meal came and the children offered us food before they began to shovel it into their mouths. It was like they had not eaten all week. Have they eaten this week?
We begin to ask them questions, all directed toward Memuyl, as he is the only one who speaks English. What are your names? I repeat each one and everyone at the table laughs. Memuyl spells his name for us; pride evident in his voice that he can do so. I try to pronounce his name again and fail, but I do not mind as the children laugh again. How many times have they laughed today?

 How old are you is our next question. Their ages amaze me. They are street kids, they are not going to be as big and strong as those who eat daily, of course they are older then they look. They turn the questions on us and giggle as we tell them our ages, especially when I told them I was fifty-nine and a half. They ask questions about our families.  Do you have a mother and father? I cannot turn the question back on them for I cannot bear the answer.

They finish the meal and my heart drops: we have to say goodbye. We walk to the bridge with them, extra food in their hands. They climb back over the barbed wire fence. The boy in blue and the boy in yellow., would we ever see them again? Goodbye we tell them. Goodbye they say.
All around me is noise. People walking, talking, going about their day as if nothing significant has happened. But my world just got tilted. We stand there, the three of us completely absorbed in the moment. How many people pay attention to him…to all of them?
I saw him daily. We would stand at the bridge and talk- he on one side, me on the other. Sometimes, he would come over the barbed-wire fence and we would sit and chat. When was the last time he talked to someone who cared?
The day I had to say goodbye, I realized how fast this little boy had changed my life. How much he had affected my heart. Still affects my heart. I walked away from him crying; I could barely see through my tears and as I continued to walk away I could hear him screaming my name, telling me to smile, to yim. Telling me not to cry.  It was as if he thought he was not worth the tears. As if he thought he was not worth all the time we had spent together. It was as if he thought he was just not worth it. But he was. He is. He was worth getting to know, as little as I do know. He is worth all the tears I cried. He is worth all the money I spent. He is worth it all.
You, you see a street boy; you may see a hopeless cause, but I refuse to believe that my precious boy is just another case. That he is just another number in the faceless numbers. Cause he is not. He is more than that. He is precious. And bold. And brilliant. And too street- smart. He is adorable. And protective.  And broken. And sad. And addicted. And angry. And hurt. And rejected. And in such desperate need of love. He is a child of God. A world-changer. A valued life. He is Memuyl.

Pizza is here! Thanks for reading!

Partnering With Jesus

So much to say and yet I do not know where to start.
Since being back in America, I have flushed toilet paper and I have eaten everything but rice. I have realized that coming from Thailand, where it is a billion degrees out, to Wisconsin, where I am constantly freezing, does not mean that I get to live on coffee. Although, it is a lot of fun. I hate jet lag- I still wake at ridiculous hours of the morning thinking it is time for ministry or food. But I like hearing everyone else's stories and seeing all my friends that I have made while in DTS. 
I am excited for everyone's next step as it involves people going all over the world. Some are going to college, some to language school, some to staff, and some to a secondary school with YWAM. And as excited I am for them, I am even more excited about the turns my life is taking. Leaning on Jesus and waiting on Him is so much more fun and rewarding than freaking out and worrying. 
This morning, directly after worship, we were told about a new school they are doing here in Madison- The School of Communication Foundation. The SCF. Listening to Dow speak about this school got me thinking about applying and going to it. The school starts in May and the cost is close to $3,500 and there is no outreach. 
I had been feeling like the Lord was telling me to staff the fall DTS here in Madison, but I was not sure about what I was going to be doing over the summer. Where I would be staying,working, etc. Which was awkwardly fine. But now the opportunity of this school has arisen and I am totally thinking and praying about doing it. Please join me in praying. 
And would you please pray and consider partnering with me as I partner with Jesus? Being a part of YWAM and missions here in the States for the next year will take finances and support through prayer from you all. 
In order to be on staff, I need a minimum of $500 monthly support. In order to do the School of Communication Foundations I would need, basically, all of the tuition money, as I have about $2 to my name.
Whether you can financially support me or not, I covet your prayer for me.
Thank you all for reading my rambling and feel free to follow the page and even comment on the posts. I'll let you know what all is going on as I know.
Oh, also, a shout-out to the Europeans and Russians and Thais! I honestly do not know who you are, but I thank you for journeying with me!

Mae Sot and Bangkok

We arrived in Mae Sot the day before our visas expired and crossed over into Burma to gain a 15 day visa. We would do this again to gain a second 15 day visa. We were all tired and hungry, and as it was hot out, extremely thirsty. We had seen some crazy car accidents on the way to Mae Sot and I was just ready to relax. I do not recall what we did that first day, but I do know that Mae Sot changed my life and the outreach.
We did open air every night. We had no idea what that meant when we were first told about it. Did that mean...? Well, honestly, there was not really any questions because we knew there would not be an answer- including the question of "What time?". We went to a factory that first night. Speakers started blaring and I am sure, we were as confused as the migrant workers were. We were not sure what to do, but we figured we would do what we had felt the Lord told us to. It went well, other than the fact that they ran away from us if we went up to them. From there, open air was mostly the same. We pray, show up, and watch God do what He wanted to. There was one very special open air though. I am almost positive that the whole team feels this way. We showed up at a street market, there was a factory down the street, but this location was better to be at simply because the factory was on a more narrow road.
When we had prayed that morning, we all felt the Lord was saying to make it about Him. We did not understand what that meant fully and even after throwing around ideas for ways to do that we did not know. Not until we were at open air. We simply wanted to give God all the glory. There was one man there the whole entire time we were there. It was awkward, but somewhere in the middle of the program, as I stood there kind of grumbling, I felt the Lord say, "Hey Maya, you may not see anything, but you are changing the atmosphere. Do you really need people to do that?" Later that night, Coach had us sit down. I think he felt bad for us because no one was there. He opened up the floor and I knew I had to share what the Lord had said to me. When I finished a couple of my teammates said they knew the Lord told them the same thing. Crazy how God does that. That night would have to be one of my favorites. Of just knowing that no matter what, no matter who, no matter anything, we can always just say "Jesus" and release something great into the atmosphere.
We went all over Mae Sot. And even outside of the city. Many times, we had no idea where we were going. We would show up at Morning Glory school and work there or at the Burmese medical clinic or any other number of places. Let me see if I can remember some of the places we went: migrant factories, garbage dump, orphanages, schools (including one for the monks), markets, clinic, and I am sure many other places.
One of my favorite places in Mae Sot though, was the Burmese school. Morning Glory is a school where the Burmese children can go to school and get a very good education. They study mathematics, sciences, English language, Thai language, Burmese history and the Burmese language. They also study music, art and sports. These kids get a well rounded education and I got to be part of it for two weeks. However, when we were there, we learned that the Thai government had come in and said that the school needs to be remodeled. We helped with some of it, but it was difficult to try to do something when we were not 100% positive what they were saying. We did lay a concrete floor and I am sure that the measurements will never leave my head. I often went to the Grade 4 classroom wether we worked on the floor that day or not. The best day in that classroom was actually the last day. We were just hanging out and messing around and one of the boys pulled out a book that we had been working in. I sat down with him and watched him read one of the stories we had worked on. I asked him if he could read it to me. He read me The Hare and the Tortoise and then he read the second story we had worked on, Maung Pau's Egg. I was so proud of him. He only messed up on one word and paused only once or twice. I was so proud I thought I would cry. We played a game or two and laughed a lot. It was Friday and that meant it was a half day, they were all packing up to go home when one of the boys said, "See you Monday, Sister." It broke my heart to tell them that I left the next day for Bangkok. That I was on my way back to America.
That is what this trip gave me: a broken heart. I say that with as much love as possible. I fell in love back in January. My world collided with so many people over in Thailand and my heart was stolen over and over again. From Mae Sai to Mae Sot and even Burma and Laos.
Oh, and I am pretty much convinced that I am going to adopted a Burmese child. So stinking adorable.
Bangkok...I only love you cause you are a part of Thailand, after that I could not wait to get away from you. Although, the hotel we stayed in was great. It even had a shower head. Not that I minded bucket showers.
I need to sign off now, but I will update more either tomorrow or in a couple of days.
Thank you all.

Oh and also, you can follow this blog by providing your email address- you do not need an account or anything. Blogger sends you an email whenever I update. Just in case that is easier for you.

Continue to Break Me, God

We have spent the last couple of week in Mae Sot going throughout the city. Here, we do different ministry than we have done in any other place. Almost everyday holds something new. Afternoons are usually spent at Morning Glory, a school for Burmese kids. We have been working on the floor for a kitchen- one, two, three. Yeah, don't think I am ever going to forget the ratio after doing it so many times. So we did the floor and we also taught English. My friend, Brook and I taught class the first day and then he went to help with the floor and I was in the class by myself. We began to work on The Hare and the Tortoise. Kids who do not speak English as a first language saying "tortoise" and "will" is one of the most adorable things. Each day that I have not worked with them, I have realized that I miss them. They are such a joy. Especially the way they try so hard and are so interested in learning and saying a word correctly.

My Burmese is pretty bad and my Thai is awkward, but I have a language everyone speaks. A smile and a hug go a long long way. I learned this even deeper today at the prison. Not all the woman were released to spend time with us, and they would stand on the other side and watch us. One lady kept watching me; maybe because I kept smiling at her and trying to let her know that I saw her. I don't know to be honest. But I have seen a smile brighten days. Maybe a smile brightens their life. Thailand is the Land of Smiles and for the most part that is true, but the Burmese are not Thai. And it is evident to me by how little they smile in comparison to the Thais. 

The other night, we had finished open air and were sitting at a restruant to eat when this young woman came up to our table. She was 17 and pregnant and had a 2 yr old baby in her hands. The little boy was her nephew, but he was always with her. She was begging, same as last night. Brook and I looked at each other, then at Kevin, our team leader, and then to the girl. "Would you like to eat with us". She began to speak Thai and the team translator told us that she could not because she still had to get twenty one baht.  And there was also something about how she could not eat what we were eating, but we did not fully understand what was being said. If we gave her the rest of the money, but she at least sit with us? She sat and asked if it was okay to order for the little boy. I was glad to see that she ate as well. We asked her questions, but mainly she spoke with the translator who later told us her story. The little boy had an open wound on his knee and we had first aid supplies. We patched him up then Brook and Geert-Jan ran to the store to buy him some ice cream for his bravery. I have not seen the two of them since, but they are never far from my mind. Join me in prayer for the young mother and the two children.

We are forever hanging out with children. It is tiring work trying to entertain them and make sure they have a good time. We have worked with so many tribes and nations during this time and I am sure The Lord looks down and dances and sings and plays odd versions of rock, paper, scissors with us. Because when you get down to the heart of what we are doing, we are showing these children the tangible love of Jesus Christ. We are his hands and feet. And these children are Jesus. 

Treat everyone like he is Jesus Christ for who never know who is.

There is still another week of outreach left and then the dreaded plane ride. For me, releasing that my heart is here in Thailand with everyone u have met along the way. Thank you so much football your prayers and support.

Oh, and my outreach is still not paid off so if you could pray for that as well. Thank you.

The Karen

January 20 

Tomorrow we leave for a village further up the mountain. It is already hard to breathe at this elevation, so this should be interesting.

We have been in Om Koi since Wednesday- it is now Sunday and we leave tomorrow morning. Here, we have lived in a hostel and with students. There are 39 of them, and they are all Karen! So awesome. And on top of that, they have all professed Jesus Christ. It has been amazing telling them out testimonies, teaching them worship songs, and hanging out.

My team and I split into two groups for this village: painting the hostel and working the farm. Since it was simply a choice and I had painted with Not For Sale last week, I choice to work the farm. One Kilometer away from the hostel, we walked, is a farm. They told us the name of the trees we were planting and helping to grow, but I do not remember. I think tamarin, or something close to that. They also had banana trees and animals. Around noon, we would break for lunch and return around three, after the strongest  part of the sun. We would work until the students got out of school, around five, head back to the hostel and hang out. One night, I asked one of the boys, Suracha, to teach me a song. He ends up going to bed before this happened, but two of the girls, Branie and Lowet stayed  to hang out. Kaylie, one of the leaders, ended up joining us and we worshiped in English for a little and then Kaylie remembered a song she learned in Burma last year. They knew it. They sang in Thai, we in English. Then we asked them to teach us in Thai. So we sang for awhile, learning the song, making awkward faces, and finally getting it down. Last night, Saturday, I learned This Is the Day in Thai and we taught them a couple of songs in English. Now, they prepare for school tomorrow and, I guess, a send off for us tonight, most of my team is packing (other than those who left this morning for Chiang Mai) and, obviously, me. 

I had to get my thoughts down.

Tomorrow we leave, but we return to the hostel for a night after our time in Mew Kler Kee. I will probably cry then. 

Okay, time to go to the store.

Tonight(Sunday), the Karen people put on a program for us and some of the house sponsors. I went up to share a testimony on the Father's heart for us based off of my own experience. I got through without crying, but when I sat down I was shaking. I took a second to calm down and during that moment a woman came up to me and placed her scarf around my neck. I never got her name, but I will never forget her gesture of love to me. The scarf is pretty but the heart behind the gift is beautiful. Ah, God. :) and I shared in front of Buddhists. Ah, so cool God!

January 25

We leave Omkoi for good in the morning. Our school week in Mew Klew Kee was fantastic. Pretty much fell in love with the village. We taught English, the chicken dance, learned a little Karen and attended a wedding feast by accident. I cried as we left, heck, before we left. Then we arrived in Omkoi and I walked off by myself and found a lovely spot. I watched some girls play and enjoy the river, and I sang. I forget most of the song, but it was about the lives that I had collided with while here in Thailand. The lives of Dow and Oot and Simon and Mae in Mae Sai. And the lives of New and Dang and Suracha in Omkoi and the lives of Ibree and Thanglare and everyone else whose name I either do not remember or can not figure out how to sound out phonetically. The song was about how my heart is now in two; one part with me and the other with them here in the different parts of Thailand. And I cried as I sang because I sang my heart although I did not fully know what my heart was saying or wanting. 

Now I know a little of it. Today, I journaled how if God wanted to give me some of my heart's desires, I know which ones I want. ;) I know that this thinking is not...the best, or even correct, but if God were to ask me what I wanted; I know. I want a country and two people groups. Yeah, that's right. I want Thailand. I want the whole country. And I want the Shan and Karen people. 

There is a slight problem with these desires of mine, but I won't say what it is.

Even if I can not live in Thailand, I will be pounding on the door of heaven daily for this country, these people. 

Because my heart is in two

One part with me

And the other part

In the different pieces of Thailand that I have been to.

And we still have Mae Sot and Burma to go to.

January 27

Big surprise here! Got lost! Literally have no idea where I am, but that is part of the fun. ;) 

Wish I had brought a band aid though.

You know, I seriously have no idea where I am. Somewhere in Chiang Mai, but I went through a sketch part of town and now I am just looking for the wall. Haha from there I know where I am at. Still looking for a towel as well. Oh and my Aladdin pants. :) night market for those though. Oh, I ended up at Tops supermarket and found.. NUTELLA! One happy girl right here. Thinking about just getting a tuk tuk and going back to the hotel, but I stopped for a milkshake. I should have stopped somewhere with a bathroom though. Ha

Mae Sai part 2: Saying Goodbye

It is odd to think that this is my last full day in Mae Sai. I have fallen in love with this place and these people. Today lunch is at the same place as my first meal here in Mae Sai. God, I do not want this to ever be over. I want to continue on in this land, yet my heart yearns for elsewhere. Mayhap, just as travels as I would love to stay here. Learn the culture and the language. Know the land and different tongues. And yet, Moldova, Romania, Russia, India, and Myanmar are on my heart. Am I just to be held by these nations with no respect to my heart? Am I to be torn between the nations of the world? Will I have the privilege to simply do it all as The Lord calls me to?

There is no reason to stress about it. I just want to know. I want to wonder, write it down, and maybe see it come to pass.

(An hour later) It is amazing to think that right now, as I look at Memuyl and his friends that this could possibly be the very last time. How did this time pass me by? Was there more I could have done? Some other way in which I could have truly affected his life? I feel like, for a Monday, Mae Sai is not as busy. But then again, is it only me who feels this way? I am ready to cry as I think about my young friend and the life he is choosing. Why is it that we desire change for him moreso than he himself? Addiction. I hate that world and the ugly truth behind it. Memuyl is an addict. And nothing I do or say will change that. No matter how much I wish it would.

(Almost fifteen minutes later) I just said goodbye to my young friend and as much as I did not want to, as much as I knew I could not, I cried in front of him. And I am still crying. Crying and walking. Better than driving and crying.

(An hour and a half later) Somehow I made it back to the house. It is 4 pm and I have been out for the last 4 hours by myself. Now I feel like I need another 5 or 6 to cry and process. 

Saying goodbye is something I hate. Goodbye, to me, means forever. Yet I know I cannot say "until next time" because I do not know if there will be one. As I am saying goodbye to Memuyl and I begin to cry and walk away, he calls after me, "Maya , no". As he wipes his own eyes to explain what he is saying no about. I nod," I know". But I only cry harder. I walk away faster and he is calling after me. 

Maya, you Yim.

I know what he is trying to say, but it does not change the fact that I have no smile for this moment. I let the tears fall; at this moment I do not care if it is not a part of the culture. And I walk. I let my feet lead because my eyes are too full and I end up walking past the Not For Sale drop in center. I worked here all week and I was really surprised that is where I ended up, but it is. Assumpta came out and called to me as I had walked past the center, I turned and there she is in the middle of the road a huge grin on her face. " you and team not leave yet?" 

"No, tomorrow." I can not have this conversation right now. I want to finish crying over one goodbye before I need to add another. I walk in with her to meet some of the staff. Oot and Dow are there and all I want to do is run away. I do not want to have to say goodbye. I cannot be Yim right now. I say goodbye and Chu runs out of the building after me. Not the baby. Why is it that children pick up on feelings more than adults? Or at least are more keen to? I walk, again letting my feet lead. And I end up back at the house and am now sitting in the balcony continuing to cry and continuing to believe that even if there is nothing more I can do in this city God is faithful. I was not here this past week for nothing. Even if nothing else, I changed the spiritual atmosphere around here and made some great friends.

Week One: Already Broken

We arrived in Bangkok on January 1, 2013 so Happy New Year. Although for many of you it was still 2012, but we are all caught up now so it does not matter. Our first day in Bangkok was a relax and catch your breath kind of day. We went to the market for dinner and very awkwardly found food and something to drink as no one spoke English and we do not speak Thai. The next day we had orientation on the culture and went on a scavenger hunt for a couple of blocks around the YWAM Bangkok base. I am pleased to announce that my team was not the one that got lost. The following day we got on a bus to Mai Sai. How do I describe that bus ride but uneventful and long? After thirteen hours, we arrived and were quickly picked up by our contact, Brandon. He took us to this wonderful house on the outer part of town, yet within walking distance of everything.
There are many markets in Mai Sai. Many of the vendors are Burmese who walk across the bridge daily in hopes of something better in Thailand. They do not know that "that something better" is Jesus Christ.
One thing that I noticed about Mai Sai since the very beginning is the street kids. They are everywhere, but mainly by or on the bridge that connects Thailand and Myanmar. They are here because of the heavy foot traffick and many foreigners.
One the first day, the leaders gave us money for lunch and said explore. I was with Grace and Cierra, two amazing young woman of Go, we ate lunch by the river that separates the two countries. After lunch we walked the big market then we went in search of adventure. Little did we know of what awaited us. Memuyl, a nine year old street kid. He and his street "family" were out begging. Asking each person for just one baht (baht is Thai money. Thirty baht is one American dollar.) I was taken in by two girls, sisters I later found out. Why were they here? Did they have anyone? God, why these two little ones? Memuyl ended up getting a bag of chips of something and the three of them plus another boy sat together to eat. It took my heart. It was the middle of the day, tourist taking tons of pictures and I just stared at these kids. We stood right by an arch that read "Northern Most Part of Thailand" a huge tourist hot spot and my heart is breaking over Memuyl and his friends. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to do something. Memuyl eventually came over and asked for money.
"Are you hungry," I asked. All the while hoping he could understand. Turns out he spoke English. And have the sassiest "yes" you ever did hear.
"Come with us then," Cierra said.
Memuyl and another, Pitcha, began to climb the barbed wire fence. I feared for their safety, what if they for cut? Then we would have an even bigger problem. Neither girl could make it over, but another little girl did. Total we had three boys and one girl. They led the way to a restaurant and began to order food. Food came and as they are shoveling food into their mouths they begin to offer their food and ask questions. Do you have parents? What do they look like? Do you have siblings? Where are you from? Are you all from there?
Repeatedly they broke my heart. They told us all their names, but honestly I cannot tell you them. Like our names were hard for them to pronounce theirs are hard for us.
We went back later that night with two of the guys are our team, Brook and James. Memuyl remembered our names, but now a few days later, he only remembers mine as I see him daily along with the boys.
The three of us and Kendall make up the YWAM Not For Sale team. The team of Mai Sai only had room for four of us and we were it. We start our day with them around ten. We do work around their little house, helping them clean up and such. Yesterday we primed, today we painted and tomorrow we will finish painting hopefully. Then we go out to the market at three. With Oot and Dow, we give out vitamins and such for medical needs. Many of the people are Burmese.
Being in Maj Sai has opened my heart to the Thai and Burmese people both. There is a huge language barrier usually, but actions speak and I am determined that my actions with scream Jesus. Will point to the true living God.
There is still so much I want to say, but I need to sleep as the day starts early.
Please be praying for me and my team as there are many things going on. Pray we stay unified and we are humble with each other and before the Lord. Pray that when opportunities arise for us to share and show Christ, we will not be silent but speak with the truth and grace of God.