Thursday Nights…

Thursday nights are fast becoming my favourite time of the week. Two or three of our team, (staff and volunteers) head into the bars to meet and build relationship with the teen boys and young men who work and/or find a sense of community there.

The first few times I went (back on my initial visit to Thailand in 2010), I was distracted by the interaction taking place between young men and old western men, (see previous blog entries: https://redeeming2011.wordpress.com/2011/12/09/enough/ and https://redeeming2011.wordpress.com/2011/12/08/father-to-the-fatherless/).

I’ve purposely shifted my attention from the things in this environment that make me angry or sad, towards finding the beauty and the joy that exists there. I love that in this environment, my still limited Thai doesn’t matter so much. The laughter emerging from our games of Uno (and the cookies or muffins from our Weds afternoon UL baking program that we take with us), draw boys to our table and I know enough Thai to ask them boy to join us and play and to find out a little of their story.

Last week it was so obvious we were in the right bar at the right time. On Thursday night we met ‘N’ who after an hour or so of Uno, shared that he arrived in Chiang Mai just the day before.

The next night, (we weren’t meant to go to the bars that night but found ourselves with a spare couple of hours before going to see our friend’s Muay Thai fight), we met ‘B’ who having recently moved to Chiang Mai from Bangkok was in the bars that night for the first time. Whether either young man finds his way to UL, it is encouraging to know that on their first or second night in these bars we met them and were able to let them know of support that is available to them in the future should they desire it. Many of the young men in these bars come to Chiang Mai alone and find ‘family’ among other boys working here.

Our time in the bars is very much about bringing some fun and light into the boys lives and to gradually build relationship. Sometimes these boys find their way to the UL drop in centre, some of them become regulars and start to pursue a different future. Of course, we love it when that happens, but that’s really more just a by-product. Our purpose of being in the bars is to love, to esteem, to value.

No matter how tired I am by that point in the week, I always ride home on my bike feeling energised and thankful for the privilege of being able meet and hear a little of the stories of these courageous and vulnerable young men who are trying to find their way in a society that misunderstands, mis-labels and largely ignores or forgets them. I love seeing God’s amazing creativity in the special personality and unique story of each boy we encounter. There are many funny characters and others who are shy, unsure and seem very out of place. I love how our team finds a way to include them all, even if it is sometimes just through a smile.

Can’t wait to see what happens this Thursday night!

CRAZY JOHN & CRAZY TIGER…

In the midst of a hilarious weekend here in Chiang Mai.

CRAZY JOHN MUAY THAI
On Friday night, a bunch of UL staff and boys went to the local Muay Thai fights. A long-term UL volunteer John who has been learning muay thai (essentially a form of kick-boxing), for a while now was fighting a Thai guy. I’m not much of a ‘fight’ fan. I’ve never really understood why two people would want to get in a ring and try to knock each other out. But I went along to support our man and to see what all the fuss is about – Muay Thai is huge in Chiang Mai with fights on pretty much every night of the week!

It cost me 300 bht to get in (about $10), while my Thai friends didn’t have to pay to get in, (a common occurrence here). There were several fights before Johns. We arrived just as a Thai fight was finishing with losing fighter in serious pain having what looked like a badly sprained or broken ankle. Being a pretty sensitive lad, the mom in me stressed inwardly through the rest of the fights, hoping no one would get seriously hurt. 🙂

But, it wasn’t long before I got distracted by the grace with which some of the Thai fighters moved. Moved is not the right word. They almost danced or bounced in time with the distinctive accompanying music. It was a little hypnotic and somehow beautiful despite being interrupted by attempts to cause serious bodily harm every few seconds.

Most of the fights saw a Thai fighter pitted against a farang (Western) opponent. A friend told me that typically the five round fights start with the Western fighter on allowed to get the upper hand, (the paying crowd is farang after all), but as the fight draws on, the Thai fighter (who has been in the sport often since they were little children), gradually takes apart the farang opponent. We saw this unfold several times in the lead up to our friends fight.

John is a real character. he has a big red bushy beard – and I mean BIG! He hasn’t worn shoes for about four years. He is funny and a real generous guy – he lives simply and is forever buying food for many of Chiang Mai’s flower-selling street children. He drops in to UL very regularly to support and encourage the UL team and boys. So the UL crew were there with signs and painted on bushy beards to support him as he got in the ring. John is definitely an entertainer and got the crowd going in a big way (probably a third of the crowd were there to support him).

The fight, unlike all the others we’d seen, lasted just two rounds. In the first, John got knocked to the canvas and I was worried. In the second, the Thai fighter, faced with the full wrath of ‘crazy john’ (the name given to him by the fight commentator), went down several times before he couldn’t get back up and the ref intervened. I think the Thai fighter may have been scared of seeing John’s beard close up or perhaps didn’t want to cop John’s barefeet in the face more than once, (remember – no shoes for four years!!!). Seriously, John was pretty amazing and was the only Western fighter (that I saw) for the night.

CRAZY TIGER FOOTBALL
Saturday night, I went with my friends, The Cross family to watch a football, (soccer) match. Chiang Mai FC were taking on Trat FC. The game was played at a large stadium (maybe 30,000-40,000 capacity). There were several thousand fans there, (mostly going for the home side Chiang Mai).

I’m not much into soccer. Being an Aussie Rules man, I don’t see the point in spending 90 mins watching a game that has a high chance of being a draw and usually results in very few, if any goals being scored. While I appreciate the athleticism and skills on display, the academy award winning acting on display when minimal contact takes place while adding to the drama, makes for frustrating viewing.

The game standard was high, though most fans seemed to be more interested in watching the Chiang Mai FC mascot (a guy dressed up in a tiger suit) work the crowd. He was certainly earning his wage dressed a huge furry suit complete with tiger head. I’d imagine he’d lose a couple kg per game given the heat here in Chiang Mai. Fans near us threw him a beer which he tried to drink on the sly while having photos taken and interacting with the many kids who wanted to meet him.

Half-time had the scores level at 1-1 and the tiger mascot looking slightly shaky on his feet, (not sure if this was due to the heat, the beer or his over enthusiastic kamlang style dancing).

As the game drew closer to it’s end, more and more eyes watched the action on the field. Chiang Mai FC were pressing hard and it seemed almost inevitable that another goal would be scored with many opportunities going begging. With about two minutes to go, the CM FC striker put a goal in the back of the net and proceeded to undertake the biggest celebration of all time. He ran off the field towards the biggest grandstand, (followed by a couple of his team mates), slipping over on the way and then crawled on all fours towards the crowd doing a slow motion impression of a tiger growling/attacking, (reminiscent of the closing scene from the movie Little Miss Sunshine). One of the refs tried to interrupt the celebrations, pointing the players back to the field, but the tiger was having none of that.

While the Chiang Mia FC players celebrated (in style that reminded from of the closing scenes from the movie Little miss Sunshine), the clever lads from Traf FC realising that the umpire had not yet called full-time, took their kick off, ran the length of the field and scored against an undermanned defense. I watched the CM striker (mid celebration) slowly turn from his tiger impersonation in time to see his Traf opponents score. The tiger was unimpressed. Twenty seconds later full-time was called and the place went absolutely nuts!

The Cross family have three young children, so we didn’t stick around too long, but we were there long enough to see the field invaded by a hundred or so angry and alcohol fueled fans, (though no sign of the tiger mascot). The handful of police on duty were hopelessly outnumbered and it so easily could have gotten really, really nasty. It would have taken just one punch for it to have been on in a big way. It was quite amazing to see Thai people, normally such a quiet and peaceful people, so animated and angry. I guess, football brings out the best and worst in people the world over.

So, I’m not really a fight fan or a football (soccer) fan, but…
it’s been an AWESOME weekend…
who knows what will happen when I go to…
church later today! 🙂

loving the adventure that is my life.

happy birthday to you…

‘happy birthday to you…’

I love birthdays at Urban Light. The cake (or whatever we buy in it’s place), the thought and sincerity which the birthday boy puts into his ‘wish’ before blowing out the candle and the volume and joy of off-key voices singing one of the world’s most sung songs.

Today, I half spoke, half sung the birthday song to ‘T’, (see previous post for background). Each word seemed to form somewhere deep in the back of my throat, threatening to choke me as it made it’s way somehow into the atmosphere. On a table sat a solitary chocolate muffin with one candle. Around the table, sat T’s older brothers, one of our staff and I. The table was in the middle of a meeting room in a juvenile detention centre that T was last week sentenced to spend the next twelve or so months in. We sang and tried to make it a happy moment. But it is hard to sing when the one you are celebrating is trying to keep himself from totally losing it, and when you yourself are not far behind.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, just being ‘present’ with a person or ‘turning up’ is powerful. I suspect that most of us in the West know this to be true, but we rarely experience it, because life is full of a million and one meetings, events and acquaintainces that keep most of our interactions brief and shallow. Today, I only said a few words to ‘T’. I mostly let his brothers talk with him. Occasionally, we would catch each other’s eye and grin. I gave him a letter that one of our staff kindly translated for me. I trust that the words of affirmation and honour that I struggled to put on paper will encourage him through some lonely and sad moments in the months to come. But just turning up, just being there, was what mattered most today.

Today despite the environment, despite the tears and despite the woeful rendition of the song, ‘T’ had an hour that was deeply happy, (and not just from the sugar high from the snacks we brought that he devoured during the visit). We turned up. He was remembered and celebrated. He was not forgotten.

I’ll never sing ‘happy birthday’ in my life again, without remembering today. And I sure hope I’m around to sing a super happy song with ‘T’ (and celebrate with a couple hours of ping pong), when he gets free!

Slow down.

Turn up.

Be present.

And say a little prayer for ‘T’.

The Power of the ‘Pong’

I met ‘T’ when I was volunteering at UL back in November last year. T would come to the UL drop-in centre pretty much every day of the week. You’d know when he was around, he has the most wicked and infectious laugh I’ve ever heard.

T won me over the day my shoes got ‘permanently borrowed’ from outside the UL centre by a guy known to be a drug dealer in the area. T, hearing what had happened and concerned that I had no shoes to walk home in, picked up his flip-flops and handed them to me. I don’t know what you’d do when confronted by a display of such simple yet profound grace. But I couldn’t take T’s shoes. What I did do later that night, (back in my hotel room where I had another couple pairs of shoes sitting in the closet), was ball my eyes out. I was moved that a teenage boy, who many nights of the week was being exploited and abused by Western men in the boy bars of Chiang Mai, would so willingly give up his shoes to me, a Western man, that he’d known for all of two weeks. I think I’ve known since that day, that I would fight for this kid, for his future and his freedom.

Fast forward to late April 2012 and I arrived back in Chiang Mai to start in the role of Thailand Director of UL. T was doing fairly well. He was in the UL housing program and working six days a week in construction – and we thought moving gradually away from life in the bars.

But soon enough the influence of some older boys and drugs brought T to a place of some bad decisions, which led to his removal from UL housing. I was gutted, the day we told him he was out of housing. I remember after the meeting just sitting beside him on the stairs, my hand on his shoulder, not saying anything, but just being with him in his sadness.

Over the last couple months, we’ve seen little of T. We were concerned about the company he was keeping, the drugs he might have been using and his regular presence in the bars,.

A few weeks ago, T started showing up again. Usually late in the day when the UL day is winding down. One day, we played some ping-pong. Usually UL boys who are better than me at ping-pong rarely want to play. They say, ‘Why play, I always win’. But when T and I play, it’s all about fun. We don’t even usually score. He’s better than me but I can hold my own enough to surprise him every now and again. The last couple weeks when T comes to the centre, after a quick ‘hi’ to everyone else, he comes over to me, grabs my arm and pulls me away from whatever else I’m doing to start another ping-pong marathon. If I’m honest, it doesn’t take much convincing. But I’m learning that if we start, I need to be ready for a minimum one hour of play, sometimes two. He never wants to stop. When I’m spent, I say, ‘just one more’. We play one more and then T says, ‘just one more’. Thirty ‘one more’s’ later or when the ball we’re using decides it has had enough, we finish.

Over here, ‘play’ is sometimes the best therapy we can offer these amazingly courageous yet broken boys. Ping-pong provides T (and me), with a physical workout (an endorphin hit), a healthy way to express his anger, (boy does he hit hard sometimes!), a huge amount of joy and laughter (my cheeks often hurt as much as my muscles), a healthy connectedness with another human being and an opportunity to play – to forget about the very adult problems he faces back out on the street – to just be a kid for awhile. And trust is slowly being re-built. I play with ‘T’ and other boys at UL to convey to them that I love hanging out with them, that they are worthy of my time and attention, that I value them, that they matter. It’s for this reason, that ‘play’, ‘presence’ and ‘ping-pong’ are among my greatest weapons right now!

For those reading who pray, please pray for ‘T’. He’s a great kid, who deserves a life full of hope, freedom and opportunity, just as much as you or I do. Pray that the negative influences in his life will be silenced and that he will choose to make a change that leads to life!

‘farang’ or ‘one of us’?

My time at Urban Light working with the courageous young men of the Chiang Mai red-light districts is flying by – I’m fast approaching 4 months here! The work is chaotic and challenging, allowing little time for reflection and writing.

After doing some serious apartment cleaning this morning I’ve finally found a spare few minutes to share a couple of little stories from the last couple weeks. they’re nothing amazing but perhaps sweet little snippets of generosity, community and thoughtfulness.

Two weeks ago, one of our young men, ‘W’, started his first full-time job, in a busy restaraunt. The night before he started, ‘W’, our case manager June, another of the UL boys and I went to church together, (perhaps I’ll share at another time about the beautiful way several of the UL boys are experiencing community through their connection to this unique little church plant – the likes of which I never thought I’d find here in Thailand).

After church, ‘W’ asked us out to dinner at the place he most regularly eats. It was a place that I’d driven or walked past many times, but I’d never thought to stop in and eat at. The best way I can describe it is that it was a small shed made out of corrugated iron, (kind of like you might find on an old neglected farm). It was dark, had a dirt floor, a couple of plastic tables and several assorted plastic chairs. Just a step or two away from the street, a very old shirtless Thai man, who looked like he had lived several lives, sat behind a huge (think industrial kitchen) pot of curry. ‘W’ ordered for us, (making sure that my bowl of noodles and curry didn’t contain any of the local ‘delicacies’ that might make for an unenjoyable experience). I brushed aside thoughts of my recent bout of food poisoning that resulted in me losing several kilograms in the space of just a few days and dug in, trying to get the little bits of meat off of the bones floating in the curry.

We ate, we talked, we got up to leave. I reached for my wallet, thinking that I would pay the bill, (20 baht or 65 cents each). But ‘W’ was one step ahead of me and he wouldn’t take any money from anyone. He was so delighted to have shouted us dinner in response to all that UL has invested in him over the last few months. I was moved. This was the first time in the last nearly four months that one of the young men we work with had invited me to ‘their place’ for dinner or bought me a meal. It’s beautiful to see the pride and confidence that grows deep in the hearts of guys like ‘W’ as they are loved, valued, believed in and given opportunities to grow!

Last week, we had a team of twelve people visiting UL for two days. We don’t often have visiting teams come through – sometimes they’re awesome and sometimes they are incredibly challenging! Often when a team comes we cram them, our staff and as many UL boys who come to UL that day into a couple of song taos (red truck taxis) and head 45 mins out of town to the lake. There we spend the afternoon swimming, playing frisbee or soccer and just generally having a great time. We often bring the UL boys here without visiting teams too, to enable them to get out of town, to enjoy a beautiful setting and to play – to have a break from their very adult existence.

This particular day I was in a red truck with two of our boys, (one of whom has recently joined our staff as a peer leader) and seven of the visiting team. As we approached the lake, ‘A’, (our new peer leader), asked the visiting team members for 20 baht each, (as there is an entry fee to get in to the lake). He started counting the number of people in the truck to figure out how much we needed. I had the money for our staff and our boys and was getting it out ready to pay at the gate. I asked ‘A’ how many people we had and how much we needed. He said, ‘there’s seven farang and three of us’. I did a quick count of heads to confirm his count. I lost count as I replayed in my head, the words ‘A’ had just said, ‘there’s seven farang and three of us’. I suspect his words were unintentional, but they were a beautiful affirmation to me that he no longer sees me as a ‘farang’ or ‘Westerner’, but he sees me as ‘one of us’.

There are many little ways that the UL boys and staff affirm to me that I have been accepted into their amazing community, but it can be really easy to feel like a ‘farang’ alot of the time. When we have no visiting teams or no short-term volunteers with us, I am often the only Westerner at UL. Our staff and boys are either Thai or Akha (hilltribe ethnicity from the north of Thailand – not far from the Myanmar border). Our founder, Alex is from the USA, but she has been here several years and speaks Thai ten times better than me and she is often back in the US, leaving me as the only Western voice & face among many Thai/Akha. Often that means there are Akha and Thai conversations happening all around me that I understand little of, (thankfully our staff and some of the boys help me out with transalation at times). But it can sometimes feel a little isolating, especially when you unknowingly make typical ‘farang’ mistakes or ask typical ‘farang’ questions! 🙂

Part of me didn’t want to put these little stories into words, because on the surface they seem to be as much about me as they are about the young men at UL and the work we’re doing. I know that I am not the point and I know that my sense of affirmation doesn’t even come close to making my priority list for being here. But as I’ve reflected on these and other moments, I love that through the young men I work with each day that I see such generosity and beauty. I’m reminded afresh of the power that words can have to give value or take value, to include or exclude. I am humbled to see, experience and be part of these moments. And I am challenged to love and serve, with a relentlessness and a ferocity, free from condition or expectation.

home

Image by Sian Rutherford. Copyright Passionfruit Images

today sucked.
in a big way.
i’ve been searching for ‘home base’ here in Chiang Mai for four weeks.
i didn’t think it would be so hard to find the right place.
earlier in the week i found what i thought would be home.
today was meant to be move-in day.
i paid a bond yesterday.
i checked out of my short-term hotel this morning.
i went to pay the first month of rent and pick up the keys to my new digs from the agent.
as soon as i walked in the door i knew there was a problem.
it was written all over the faces of several of the staff.
someone had made a BIG mistake.
i wont bore you with the details.
but the only place I moved into was back into my old hotel room.
there were moments today where I’m sure had someone taken my picture,
there would have been steam visible rising from my head.
I was so angry, so frustrated, so wanting to punch something or someone.

a couple hours ago I sat in a bar watching my footy team play an uninspiring game.
a very ‘helpful’ Western goon thought I must have been looking for some inspiring words of wisdom.
passing by he said, ‘don’t look so sad, she’ll come back to you’.
i don’t know what possesses a complete stranger to invest such stunning insights into someone else’s life, completely oblivious of their situation.
if i’d been a little quicker off the mark, I may have thanked this lovely man for his inspiring pearls of wisdom, with some gems of my own.

back at my hotel room, I got to thinking about what he’d said.
it hit me then how important it is for me right now to find home and why today disappointed so much.
eleven months ago, I left my home of the last ten years.
i don’t mean four walls and a kitchen sink.
i mean the love, the life and the creatures, (the human and the canine kind), that really make home.
my family have done an amazing job at providing me with an amazing temporary home these last few months.
but I realised tonight that i’ve been longing deep for a new home,
for somewhere that I can settle, where I can love and where I can ‘be’,
even if it’s to begin with just four walls and a kitchen sink.

maybe today i am getting the tiniest taste of what our UL boys experience.
a lack of permanence, security, comfort, loved ones … a lack of home.

it feels good to acknowledge the longings,
to reflect and learn and put words on this screen,
and to ignore the pull within to medicate with unhelpful things.

it feels good to put this day to bed,
to say goodbye to what seems like a wasted day
and to ask God to somehow redeem what has been.

it feels good to know that perhaps tomorrow I’ll find my Chiang Mai home,
and that the next day I have opportunity to give a bunch of home-less boys a taste of home at UL.

and maybe a few thousand days after that, when all things are made new,
we’ll walk in the door of a place called home that blows our minds,
the home we were truly created for.

more than just a medical clinic…

most of us complain at times about doctor’s waiting room times or perhaps how it might take two or three days to see our busy family doctor when we are sick.

imagine for a second that you have no ‘family doctor’.

you have never had a medical check-up.

you have no records of being vaccinated or immunised.

you have no mum or more experienced family member around to ask about how to treat that weird rash that just wont go away, (you know the one!!!).

imagine that when you do go to a doctor or to the hospital, in search of medical treatment, you face discrimination or lower quality care because you aren’t a local.

and that you have no way to pay for any medicine prescribed or the consultation bill.

today, thanks to Katherine Welch from Go Relentless, who coordinated and spearheaded an amazing team of health professionals, we bypassed all of those obstacles to ensure that fourteen young men received the best quality medical care of their lives to date.

today was urban light’s first ever medical clinic day.

it was so much more than just a bunch of medical consultations.

it might seem like not a whole lot to a casual observer.

the UL office was split into three examination rooms with some wobbly table tennis tables and a wall of paper sticky-taped together.

blood pressure readings were taken. weight and height measured. lungs and heartbeat listened to. questions asked and answered.

all except one of our regular boys wanted (with a little prodding) a consultation.

the quality of care was better than most of us get in the West.

there was no hurrying, no rush.

quality was the priority.

today I saw our boys respected.

i saw them listened to.

i saw their concerns addressed.

i saw their fears relieved.

i saw love in action.

and today was just a beginning… a starting point… a base line…

we hope to make this a regular part of life at urban light.

as I watched one curious 16 year old boy listen to the beat of his own heart through a stethoscope for the first time, I found myself believing that perhaps, just maybe, in spite of all the odds stacked against him, this exploited, homeless kid could someday be a doctor.

it’s unlikely. but on days like today, the impossible seems not quite so far out of reach.

i’m so proud of the gifted team who planned and executed such a brilliant day.

huge thanks to the medical team, alex for all your organising and the UL team on the ground for being your usual level of brilliant.

thanks to everyone who is praying and supporting the efforts of urban light each day. may you be encouraged and stirred to continue to give yourself to this redeeming work alongside us.

love

age

I’M RETURNING TO THAILAND…

I’m returning to Thailand at the end of April for twelve months.  Find out why and how you can be part of the adventure HERE.

goodbye Trace…

i hate goodbyes.

i especially don’t like goodbyes that are final.

today some special people and I said a final goodbye to our dear friend Tracey.

Tracey was 34 years old.

She was a rare sort of person.

She was at times brutally honest.

She never held back speaking what she believed to be true.

I’ll admit sometimes she scared me.

Because there was no bullshit with Trace.

You have to be a special kind of brave to be the kind of person she was.

Tracey was no friend of cancer.

She fought hard.

But she made peace with her Creator.

And she will definitely be rocking the karaoke at heaven’s welcome party.

She will be pleased to know that old friends came together today to remember and celebrate the consistent and special friend she has been to each of us.

She will have cacked herself laughing at those of her friends who turned up at the wrong church this morning!

She will be hoping that in her absence, that we live bold lives of extravagant love and truth, lives that matter for something.

Trace, I’m sorry I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye.

Thankyou for being such an amazing soul mate to those who are dear to me over many years.

Thankyou for being you.

You are beautiful.

You are true.

You are missed.

 

‘Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared.  And the sea was also gone.  And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a beautiful bride prepared for her husband.  I heard a loud shout from the throne saying, “Look the home of God is now among his people!  he will live with them, and they will be his people.  God himself will be with them.  He will remove all of their sorrows, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.  For the old world and its evils are gone forever.  And the one sitting on the throne said, “look, I am making all things new!”.    Revelation 21: 1-5

redeemed!…time for a new blog name

About three months ago, I sent out on an adventure in an attempt to ‘live out’ Isaiah 58. To see if the promises of God hold true when lived out in the nitty gritty of real life.

2011 had been one of, if not, the worst year of my life. Even now, there is little that is good that I could suggest came out of most of the year.   Through my summer with Urban Neighbours of Hope (UNOH), The Sold Project & Urban Light, I’ve discovered in such a profound way, that when you take your eyes off yourself and serve the needs of those who truly know what suffering and hardship is about, it is there that life and hope and freedom and love is to be found.  The words of God to his people hold true:

‘and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,  

then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear;

The Lord will guide you always;

he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame.

You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.’

God has been very gracious to me through the last few months.  He has helped me to be caught up afresh in His grand adventures.  He has reminded me of just how BIG his heart is for all!  He has shown me that in the midst of great personal loss and suffering, He is to be found.  My life circumstances haven’t changed dramatically, but my perspective is completely different.

I am so thankful for all who have been a part of this journey with me.  My brother-in-law asked me the other day whether I feel like Thailand was a bookend to the chapter of life that has just ended.  I think the answer is yes.  2011 has been redeemed – something useful, valuable, beautiful has come out of the last weeks of it.  And yet, while I simply set out to redeem a year that was lost, I suspect that God had and has something much more stunning in mind.

On Sunday night, I had opportunity to share what God has done through my summer adventure in Thailand.  To listen in visit: www.werribeebaptist.org.au/podcast   It was such a privilege to watch as God began stirring the hearts of people in this service to catch His heart for justice.  Several people came and shared after the service some creative ways in which they might become part of the solution.

Since returning to Australia, I have had several great long-term opportunities for work and ministry open up to me.  If you’re reading this and are a pray-er, I would value your prayer as I seek to know where God would have me serve in the coming season.  Watch this space for more as it continues to unfold and thanks for being on the journey with me.

p.s suggestions for a new blog name are welcome!  🙂