Three Seasons

The change of seasons. We feel it in our bones. The changes tell us we are on track. They inform our culture and give us a deep sense that what we are doing is right.

From when I was born until I turned thirty, I lived in four different places that went through the cycle of four seasons.

I remember warm summers in Portugal building sandcastles at the beach. I remember our apartment getting cold and damp in the winter and feeling mesmerized by the beauty of frost on the grass some mornings.

I remember humid summers in Illinois playing for hours a day in our family's above-ground, backyard pool. In winter, we crammed in post-school snow play before the night fell early.

I remember dry summers in Colorado, thunder rumbling somewhere in the sky almost every afternoon. I remember Christmases - the grass all brown and crispy, patches of snow in the shade, bare trees, and the brilliant blue sky overhead.

Even California had four seasons. I remember summers getting hotter and hotter, not a drop of rain with temps peaking in August and September bringing wildfires. By December, it was finally cool. Drizzly rains came and citrus trees were heavy with oranges and lemons.

When I left these Northern climates and came to Thailand, a tropical country with three seasons - hot, rainy, and cool, everything felt… wrong. Without the cyclical unfolding of four seasons, I felt like I had lost my bearing. 

December 2017 visiting Colorado and building a snowman ...versus...

December 2019 in Bangkok tromping around the flowers at the King's Park

But, now approaching four years of calling this tropical country "home," I now recognize the march through our three seasons -- hot; rainy; and cool -- and as the seasons pass one into the other I feel comforted because I expect them.

Here in Bangkok, the holidays come not with pumpkin spice everything or avoiding slushy puddles in the Target parking lot, but with an end to the rains, a stiff breeze, and runs at the local park amidst millions of flowers planted in honor of the late King's birthday. Every morning, we try to decide "Should we open the windows to let in the finally cool air or keep them shut against the pollution?"

In a few months, just as trees in the States put out fragile tight buds, the schools here let out. The heat index soars to 110… 120. I walk slowly along the sidewalk, hugging the shade, and pouring sweat. The smell of motorbike exhaust mixes with the smell of durian being chopped, weighed, and sold from the back of a pickup truck. With no rainfall and no clouds to block the relentless sun, even the pool and the ocean get too hot to cool us down and the entire nation throws water at each other to welcome the Thai New Year.

Right around when teachers and students in the States press through the last stretch to summer break, the clouds here quickly pile up high and dark, the wind whips. And minutes later the rain pours hard marking the beginning of five months of rainy season - time to pull out the uniforms and sharpen the pencils… back to school the kids go.

In September and October, pictures from the US tease us with images of sweaters and carved pumpkins. Here, the hot and humid rainy season presses on, no changes perceptible, though if you step outside and look up, there are hundreds of dragonflies flitting about just a few meters above the ground. Where they come from and where they go, I don't know, but I look for them every year.

As I now cycle through the three seasons from hot to rainy (and still hot) to cool(ish) I feel comforted because I am beginning to feel the change in my bones. Things are starting to feel on track. Things are starting to feel right again.

Swimming in the Jungle

I've been thinking a lot about parenting out of my strengths rather than out of some notion of what I think a good mom "should" do.

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to bake cookies with my three kids, ages 6, 4, and 1. I don't like baking. When I think about the handful of times I've baked with my kids, I feel stressed. But, I have this image of a "good mom" in the kitchen, patiently helping her kids measure flour and crack eggs. So, I decided baking cookies together was a good idea.

Within about five minutes of starting, one daughter had dropped a raw egg on the floor, the other daughter had cracked a raw egg with the insides landing more on the table than in the bowl, somehow there was flour everywhere already, and the one year old was yelling "See! See! See!" wanting to spend the whole experience up high on my hip where he could watch the baking chaos leaving me short one hand that I so desperately needed.

I felt overwhelmed and I was doing everything I could not to roll my eyes and snap at my daughters. I told them how I was feeling, "Grace and Cora, mommy is feeling a little overwhelmed right now. You're not in trouble, but I need a break. I'm going to mix the dough during Isaiah's nap and later this afternoon, you can help me form the dough into cookies." Thankfully, they were chill and went with it. Who wants to bake with barely-holding-it-together-mommy anyway?

Fast forward a week, we were on vacation at one of the beautiful islands here in Thailand. After a couple of days of going to the beach and the pool, the pool and the beach, I pulled out my phone to see what else we could do and found the description of a short hike to a waterfall. "Michael are you up for this?" "Sure, let's do it."

The next day, we dressed our kids in swimsuits, packed lots of snacks, and coached them along a 600 meter hiking trail through the jungle to a waterfall that was just a trickle due to little rain. Over the next couple of hours, I took my kids swimming in the deep, cool natural pool showing them how to keep the fish from nibbling their feet and legs and showing them how to use the ropes to pull themselves up onto the rocks surrounding the pool so they could jump and slide into the water. We watched orange butterflies fluttering around and we fed cracker crumbs to the fish. The time flew by. I felt tired, but in a satisfied way from working and playing hard.

When I think of a "good mom," I think of quality time baking cookies together in the kitchen. When I think of a "good mom" I never think of quality time swimming in a natural pool on a jungle island. But, the cookie baking scenario stresses me out. The hiking and swimming scenario sounds SO MUCH FUN every time.

Since we live in a large city, adventurous hikes don't happen often, but I do enjoy sharing mini experiences of nature and adventure with my kids even if it's going to the neighborhood pool, trying a new Thai fruit or dessert together, playing at the park after dinner, or watering plants together on the front porch.

My husband doesn't bake and, if it wasn't for me, he probably wouldn't go swimming in the jungle. These are not his strengths. Michael is a total Bible nerd, devouring books and podcasts on theology and the Bible. He is also a gifted teacher. He can explain complicated subjects clearly and succinctly.

This strength has found its way into his parenting. When he is hanging out with the kids at home, he gets into deep conversations about God, theology, the Bible, and life - taking complicated topics that most adults don't even understand and packaging them in a way that our daughters can understand. When they talk theology, their endless questions meet his endless patience and Michael satiates their curiosity with stories, metaphors, and examples of really, really complicated stuff. He frequently keeps our girls happy and engaged for long periods of time by simply using this strength.

Doing only things I enjoy 100% of the time while parenting is totally unrealistic. There's usually a mountain of dishes at my house, homework to complete, groceries to buy. BUT letting go of my fantasy image of the good mom I "should" be and replacing that image with who I really am, strengths, weaknesses, and all… that sounds doable, life-giving, and runs a higher chance of me actually connecting with my kids and passing on some of the things I love to my little munchkins during these short years that they are under my care.

Finite

I am limited. I am finite.

When I look at my home, my marriage, and my kids and then look at my two hands and two feet, my intellect, emotional reserves, and the clock ticking on the wall, I feel so limited. The needs within my home and my family are often bigger than my resources.

How much more so when I look at the needs of my city, Bangkok, my countries, the US and Thailand, and this big, beautiful, broken world? I turn and look at myself and recognize that, without a doubt, I am limited. I am finite.

Into this space, come these two nuggets of wisdom, and I know the Infinite One is whispering Truth to me that swallows up the truth of my finite-ness.


"Our personal life is a finite thing: it is limited in every direction, in space, in time, in knowledge, in power. But God is not so limited. He is eternal, infinite, and almighty."


"It helps now and then to step back and take the long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work…

…We cannot do everything and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders
Ministers not messiahs
We are prophets of a future not our own."

I pray that we would acknowledge our limits and allow them to be enveloped in the limitlessness of God. May we listen carefully to discern what God is inviting us to do, and what he is not inviting us to do. And may we do it well, trusting God to carry it to completion.

(Quotes from J.I.Packer "Knowing God" and from Archbishop Oscar Romero who was martyred for his human rights advocacy)

Remembering my Grandpa - Arno Enns

My Grandpa passed away on February 20th. Here are the words I shared at his funeral yesterday.

~

My name is Christie Stalcup. I'm Bruce and Laurie Swanson's daughter. I have the privilege of sharing this afternoon a few memories of Arno Enns from the perspective of a granddaughter.

I've noticed that in families, there is the standard, socially acceptable hug that you give each other. My grandpa's hugs were about three times that long and three times that tight and they were filled with words of love and affection. As a child, when I received these hugs, I felt like I was the most special person in his world.

As I grew older, I noticed that he gave that exact same tight squeeze along with affectionate words to each of my cousins. As grandsons and granddaughters in law were added to the family, he embraced them and welcomed them with the same affection and care.

In 2014, my husband and I were appointed as missionaries with WorldVenture in Bangkok, Thailand. With my grandparents having served in Argentina, my parents in Portugal, and now us in Thailand, that makes me a third generation WorldVenture missionary. It's been such a privilege the last few years to be around various WorldVenture folks because I've gotten to hear story after story about my grandpa and the theme is always the same -- he warmly embraced people even remembering specific details of their lives from years ago.

My grandpa was also goofy and he loved to make us grandkids laugh. We all happily filled the role of adoring grandkids and we loved to draw out his fun personality.

I remember sitting around the dinner table with my cousins and grandparents and we would ask grandpa to tell us one of his jokes. They say a good joke is all about timing and my grandpa's jokes had terrible timing. They were long, and drawn out and us grandkids would laugh until our sides ached at our grandpa's theatrics as he told his long-winded jokes.

I remember at my wedding rehearsal, my grandpa sat in a pew next to the aisle and as each of my bridesmaids practiced walking down the aisle, he playfully stuck out his cane and tried to trip them!

Grandpa was also so faithful. Faithful to my grandma, to his family, and to the Lord.

My grandpa absolutely delighted in my grandma, Cora Lee. Sometimes, he would be sitting in his armchair in the family room reading a newspaper. She would walk in the room and he'd exclaim, "Cora Lee, you're still here?! After all these years!"

My husband's favorite memory of my grandpa comes from six years ago, when the entire family, all four daughters, sons-in-law, and all the grandchildren were gathered in my aunt's family room on Christmas Day listening to my Grandpa share a few words, well a lot of words, on the incarnation, the word made flesh. As my husband looked around the room, he was stunned at the depth and breadth of the Kingdom impact of Arno and Cora Lee Enns' lives just in that family room. They truly embodied Psalm 145 which says that "One generation will commend your works to another and declare your mighty acts."

I remember before meals, my grandpa would often start his prayers the same way. 'Gracious, heavenly Father, we thank you for…' So I would like to close my words here in the same way my grandpa started all his prayers, 'Our gracious, heavenly Father, we thank you for the life of my grandpa, Arno Enns.'

Here is a biography of his amazing life as well.

Unplug

"I am noticing that the more I fill my life with the convenience of technology, the emptier I become in the places of my deepest longing.

"I long for the beauty and substance of being in the presence of those I love, even though it is less convenient. 

"I long for spacious, thoughtful conversation even though it is less efficient. I long to be connected with my authentic self, even though it means being inaccessible to others at times.

"I long to be one who waits and listens deeply for the still, small voice of God, even if it means I must unplug from technology in order to become quiet enough to hear." 

~ Ruth Haley Barton "Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation"


I'm always learning and re-learning this one. You too?

May God form us into people who are strangely forgetful of our devices and who are present to our spouses, our children, our friends, our work, our passions & longings, and the still small voice of God.

Amen.

Celebrating Small Victories

"I worked so hard today, I got nothing done, and I am so tired."

This was the constant complaint out of my mouth for the first half of 2016 as we adjusted to life in a new country. In California, we operated fluently in the language, culture, and everyday life. When we moved, we stripped away most of our competency. In Thailand, everything was (and is) foreign and new. We worked hard those first months to complete the simplest tasks. The systems are different here, so moving required constant learning for several months.

At the end of most days, complaints were on my lips. "Michael, can you believe it took me three hours to get the grocery shopping done? I could do it in a little over an hour back at home with both kids in tow." "Michael, I only got in an hour of Thai study today because Cora wouldn't nap!" "Michael, today I got nothing done."

Enter: the outlook changing practice of acknowledging and celebrating small victories.

After a few months of complaining, we decided to begin talking about all we accomplished rather than all that we didn't get to that day. We would take turns most evenings. One of us would list out for the other all we did and the other acknowledged the hard work that went into each of those victories no matter how small.

Our lists were simple, "Today, I reviewed my Thai tutoring session, learned where to buy the shoes Grace needs for preschool, and called my mom." (Though I must admit, it took at least a month to reach that level of productivity in a single day!)

When we acknowledged the hard work that went into even a small victory, at the end of the day, we felt proud. We felt grateful each evening for the progress we had made in learning to operate in a new language and culture.

Even today, we sometimes feel frustrated and tired at the end of a day or week that appears to be fruitless. So, when we notice our hearts bending toward dissatisfaction and complaint, we stop to acknowledge and celebrate small victories together.

For you, it may not be moving around the globe with little children that has taken away your competency. But, there may be something else that has stolen your ability to produce -- becoming a parent, starting a new job, coping with chronic physical or mental illness, etc. So, I encourage you. When you are able, try listing out your victories, large and small, to a friend or even to yourself. I hope it's a game changer for you too.

I've Never Read the Whole Bible and That's Ok

I am the slowest Bible reader in the world. I still have never read the whole thing. I recently finished reading, studying, and meditating on the book of Isaiah. It took me five years.

Photo credit: my friend, Dani Larson

Why am I so slow? 

Well, for one, I stop and start. I would study Isaiah for a few weeks or a few months and then take a break to connect with God a different way -- going for a walks, writing, reading a good book, staring off into space. Then, after a couple months, I would feel ready to dive back in, so I did, and loved it, but inevitably got bored or my mind got too full, so I again took a break.

I also get stuck. There were so many passages in Isaiah that made my jaw drop and my heart melt under the brilliance of the truth. When I reached these passages, I was often stuck on them for days or even weeks. I could not move on. I would ruminate and think and meditate on them basking in the truth at all angles. The Word is rich and flavorful and sustains my soul. Sometimes, a bite enters my mouth and I savor it. Sometimes for weeks!

I used to feel guilty about this tendency to consume the Bible so slowly. My mind would think things like, "I've been a Christian who can read for over two decades, shouldn't I have read the whole Bible several times by now?" or I would compare myself to my husband who has been inductively studying the Bible for years. Almost without a break.

I remember one day while hiking with my husband through the dry, yellow Claremont Wilderness Trail, I explained these burdens to him. I felt pressured by the American Christian culture of having a daily "quiet time" where you read a different passage of the Bible every day. For me, that felt like an obligation. I usually didn't enjoy it.

And, thank God for husbands, he told me that a slacker-Christian wife was not what he saw. He said he had the tendency to consume gobs of Scripture without allowing it to change him. He was often in awe of the way I soaked in passages for a long time, and he saw them change me from the inside out. He said he saw my heart and mind as a stone tablet and truth was getting chiseled onto it. It was a slow, very slow process, but once the truth was written, it was near permanent. 

Since that day, I have embraced my slowness. I open the Bible as I sense the Spirit leading. I read as I sense the Spirit leading. I meditate as I sense the Spirit leading. All of this is very slow. I doubt I will ever do a "Read Through the Bible in One Year" plan. And, I no longer feel guilt. I feel free to be the way I am, and God graciously uses the way I read Scripture to continually form me and change me.

Has the traditional "quiet time" form of connecting with God ever felt like a burden to you? What creative/unusual ways do you hear from, learn from, or connect with God? I'd love to hear in the comments.

Writing to Share

Over the past couple of years, I've written more and more, but shared less and less of it here, on my blog. I'm not sure why that is.

I write in my journal on my laptop when my fingers need to fly to keep up with my thoughts. I write in cursive with an inky pen, stream-of-consciousness style in my large black "morning pages" notebook. I write out slower, more meditative thoughts, prayers, and lists in my moleskine journal. I brainstorm, calendar, plan, and vision for my life in my big blue bullet journal. And, occasionally, some of it ends up here but the vast majority of my writing stays tucked away. I'm mostly satisfied with this.

My laptop, morning pages journal, moleskine journal, bullet journal, and the crowning glory, my "keep clam" bag filled with inky, colorful pens.

But, I do miss sharing my writing frequently here, more than once or twice a month. I find satisfaction in refining something I wrote, sharing it with you, and sometimes hearing how it caused you to laugh or to think or to try something new. Art of all types is meant to be shared.

So, during the month of April, I’m going to post about ten times. Most of it will be old writings I've dug up. Some of it might be new. Some of it might just be pictures or quotes. Who knows!

I will count this as post #1.

Heartbeat

When I press my ear against my daughter's chest,
And I hear her heart beating - quick and strong,
And I marvel that it's been beating since she was the size of a sesame seed,
And will beat until the day she dies,
And that her life depends on this little, toddler fist-sized organ thumping away,
I realize: life is so fragile but so strong.

31

For the past several years right around my birthday, I have written a reflective post on the past year. This past year was rough, so I found myself wanting to just move on rather than stop and think about it. But, I stopped anyway. So here's my 31st year, the good, the bad, and the ugly:

What was the best thing that happened this past year?
Simply being alive, being Michael's wife, and being Grace and Cora's mommy. These are the most basic, everyday things and they are the best.

What was the most challenging thing that happened?
For the first half of the year, the most challenging thing was saying goodbye to people and places in the U.S. and adjusting to life in a new country.

The second half of the year, the challenges of adjustment were overshadowed and compounded by the news of our good friends' deaths. The loss of any one of them would have been difficult. The loss of all five at once was, at times, unthinkable.

What was an unexpected joy this past year?
I've always loved nature. When we decided to move to the concrete jungle that is Bangkok, I thought I would have to just get used to life without much green. Then, we discovered an enormous park with trails, gardens, a lake, and a huge playground located just a twenty minute drive from home. The first time I went, I almost cried, it was so beautiful and I felt so grateful!

What was an unexpected obstacle?
This was the year of obstacles, most of them unexpected. I could probably list 100. Here are the first few that come to mind: mold, rats, diarrhea (gross, but true!), navigating the world of Thai preschools, hunting for a car without understanding how car purchasing works in Thailand, and temporary deafness caused by a bad ear infection. I'm hoping that working through all these obstacles made me a more flexible and resilient person!

What image best captures this year?
I love this picture Michael got of Grace sitting on a wall. This year has been all about our family adjusting to a new life in another country. This picture captures some of that entering in.

With whom were your most valuable relationships?
This year, there were so many people who lovingly cared for us. Just a few who come to mind… 

• Each and every kind Thai person who helped us figure out life here all the while being patient with our poor speaking skills. Especially our Thai tutor, Khruu Sasipa.
• A few women in the U.S. who regularly prayed for me and cared for me from so far away (one of whom was Kathryne Pals).
• My siblings and our parents too who are a constant source of support and prayer.
• Friends/colleagues here who have become like family.

What was the best way you used your time this past year?
Digging deep into the Thai language; video chatting and emailing with people in the U.S.; taking trips to the beach; and spending time with God praying, writing, reflecting on the past, and visioning for the future.

What was the biggest thing you learned this past year?
God is completely good and sovereign (in control) of everything. Even events that look like detours, accidents, and tragedies are a part of his big plan. I have found so much peace in this truth.

What days will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I will carry the memory of our first weeks in Bangkok and the memory of the Pals family for the rest of my life.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
The enormous progress I've made in learning Thai. A year ago, I knew just a couple dozen, mostly food terms. Now, I can converse with people (up to a point). A year ago, the script looked like gibberish, now I can slowly read it.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
My new nephew, Malachi. So far, I've gotten him to smile at me three times while video chatting. I also got really excited about visits from both our parents, my sister and brother-in-law, and good friends.

What kept you sane?
My husband's calm, hardworking, always willing to help spirit. Coffee/tea. The large park and gardens near our house. Line, Facebook, and Skype for keeping in touch with family. Monthly calls with my spiritualdirector/amazingfriend, Larissa.

What are you looking forward to the most this year?
Adjusting more to life in a new country, becoming a better Thai speaker, learning more about Thai culture, and thereby making Bangkok feel more like home.

Here are my posts from when I turned 30, 29, 28, 27, 26, and 25.

Things I Learned This Rainy Season

Since moving to Thailand nine months ago, I have lost seasons as I've always known them. There is no summer, winter, fall, and spring here in the tropics. Rather, we have hot season, rainy/monsoon season, and "cool" (aka not-quite-as-hot) season.

Hot season comes in April and May. School is off and the smallest exertion makes us sweat buckets.

June through October or November is rainy season. We get almost daily rain and some wild thunderstorms.

They tell me cool season has started and will run up into hot season. But, with highs around 90 degrees + humidity, it's still hot to me!

What did I learn this rainy season?

In Bangkok, September is dragonfly month.

One day in September, while watching my little girls play at our neighborhood's dinky little playground, I looked up and saw dozens and dozens of dragonflies flitting around just a few meters over my head. For the next few weeks, while walking down the sidewalk, I would occasionally look up and there they were: hundreds of dragonflies. Then, after a couple of weeks, they were gone. I look forward to dragonfly month next rainy season.

We all need awe and wonder in our lives.

For Thanksgiving, I wrote about allowing our gratitude to turn into awe and wonder over the mystery of what the God who gives us all good things must be like. Many people really connected with this idea and expressed their need for a life lived in adoration of God.

My three-year-old is fairly athletic.

My first-born, Grace, took 15 months to learn how to walk. At that point, she was already speaking in two to three word sentences. From that point on, I assumed she was a smart, not athletic kid.

Six weeks ago, we got our hands on a tricycle and little bike with training wheels. She had never ridden a trike or a bike before. Nevertheless, on day one she mastered the trike and on day two she was pedaling the bike everywhere. I remember watching in shock at how quickly she learned it.

Here's to not labeling very young children, but rather giving them opportunities to try all sorts of new things and allowing them to surprise us.

I missed cooking.

For the first six months after moving to Thailand, I rarely cooked and we relied on super cheap, super yummy, super high sodium street food to carry us through. In August, I began cooking simple, healthy meals for my family of four again. I really enjoy being able to do this again for my family.

I am learning to ask God throughout my day what it means to be faithful to Him in the present moment, and I am learning to ask Him for the strength to do it.

Sometimes being faithful means tackling a pile of dishes (we don’t have a dishwasher) and practicing new Thai grammar while my kids nap. Sometimes, especially when I notice anxiety creeping into my soul, being faithful means setting aside my language study for half an hour to brew a cup of tea, pray, and rest.

I am so grateful that God doesn’t call us to be successful. In most areas of my life, success isn’t entirely within my control. Instead, He calls his followers to be faithful people who rely on Him. With His help, that’s something I can do.

From Gratitude to Adoration

"I'm thankful for my husband and my kids. I'm grateful that we're all healthy. I'm thankful for my house, my friends, my books…"

This was how I used to pray when I reflected on the good things in my life.

Then, a couple of years ago, I came across two sentences that changed the way I view the gifts generously dumped across each year of my life.

"Gratitude exclaims… 'How good of God to give me this.' Adoration says, 'What must be the quality of that Being whose far-off and momentary coruscations are like this!'" -C.S. Lewis

Moments of joy and things that are beautiful are just distant and brief coruscations (glimmers and sparkles) of the indescribably awesome Being who is behind it all.

Now, in addition to thanking God for things, I am drawn into awe and wonder over who He must be.

When I enjoy the simple goodness of watching my two-year-old swinging ("Higher, higher!") and singing every nursery rhyme she knows at the top of her lungs, I thank God for my healthy, second-born and I wonder in awe, "How good and playful must the Being be who thought up children and swings and songs?"

When my eyes close and my brow furrows in concentration to hear the subtleties within the richness of a new piece of orchestral music, I thank Him for music and I wonder in awe at the richness of the creativity of the Being behind it all.

When I walk home from the market, see storm clouds coming, and hear the sound of thunder rumbling deep and powerful like a growling cosmic dog, my pulse quickens as I realize this is just a glimmer of the most powerful of storms and the most powerful of storms is just a far-off coruscation of the power of God.

When, in the middle of a busy day, I tell my husband my back hurts from scrubbing black mold off the walls the day before and he massages the sore spots, I thank Him for Michael and wonder, "How tender and good must be the Being who thought up the tender, loving care of a good husband?"

This Thanksgiving, by all means, be thankful for all you have. Then, marvel at how all those things are but a brief glimmer of the good, good Father behind it all.

This Presidential Race

In my twelve years on Facebook, six years of blogging, and seven months on Instagram, I don't think I've ever posted about politics -- I just don't like thinking about, talking about, or writing about politics. But, the absurdity of this Presidential race drives me to it.

I'm sure you've already read and heard many opinions, so this will be brief…

I remember last summer when I first heard about Trump's infamous "Mexicans are drug dealers and rapists (and maybe some are good people)" remark. Having had many Mexican and Mexican-American friends, acquaintances, classmates, colleagues, supervisors, and clients; having walked with one very close Mexican-American friend through her journey of going from undocumented status to documented status; I felt shocked and offended at this racist and untruthful comment. At that moment I counted him as unfit to become a party nominee, much less President of the United States.

Over the past year, he has spouted an entire canon of racist and misogynist comments and lies that are as shocking and harmful as "Mexicans are rapists." I am deeply convinced that he is a horrible man who is only out for himself. 

I have been appalled as I've watched him successfully woo half of the US population.

My shock reached an all-time high this summer when I found out that the vast majority of white evangelicals support his candidacy for President. As a white evangelical who is not voting for Trump, I am in the minority. This is absurd to me.

Today, I went to the Bangkok post office to drop off an absentee ballot with my vote for Hillary Clinton for President. She is far from perfect, but in this 2016 race, perfection is not my standard. Preventing a Trump presidency is. So, I gladly cast my vote for Clinton.

Remembering the Pals

Over three years ago, we sensed that God was inviting our family to move halfway around the world from the USA to Thailand for the big picture vision of sharing the hope we have in Christ with Thai people and for the more particular vision of working with a nonprofit that restores women coming out of prostitution. In our social network in Southern California, we didn't know any young families doing anything like this.

Enter: the Pals

Last summer, our family attended a two-week training in Colorado with our missions organization, WorldVenture. I remember we were running late on the first day of the training, so we slipped into the back of the room and sat down at the first table we saw next to another couple that looked about our age. We introduced ourselves, found out that they were Jamison and Kathryne Pals, they were indeed our age, they had two kids our kids' age, and they were headed to Japan.

We were thrilled to meet another young family who shared our passion. (Though, after getting to know Jamison, I must say, his passion far exceeded ours!) We instantly clicked. We sat with the Pals through all the training sessions, hearing each other's vision for moving to Japan and Thailand, swapping parenting stories and advice, and praying for each other.

By the end of the two weeks, the quality of their character, the gentleness and patience of their parenting, and the passion they had for Japanese people to find joy in Jesus deeply impressed us. We felt close to them and hoped to keep up with them over the years. I remember feeling giddy when we found out that they felt similarly about us. We said goodbye and went back to our homes in Minnesota and California.

Over the past year, Kathryne and I have kept up a sweet friendship thanks to a few Skype/phone calls and numerous emails. I remember when we moved to Thailand last February, I had very little margin and my kids were struggling quite a bit with the adjustment. Kathryne would always remind me to rely on God for strength hour by hour. I remember one time a couple of months ago when things were particularly hard, rather than reminding me to rely on God every hour, she told me to rely on him for strength each minute! I believe this was the key to her gentle, patient parenting -- she constantly relied on God for strength.

Last fall, Kathryne found out that she had a large cyst growing in her lower abdomen. At the same appointment, she also found out that she was pregnant. As I prayed for God to protect Kathryne and her baby, I marveled at how a tumor and a baby could grow right next to each other, vying for the same space. For me, it became a parable of life: evil and death so often share the same space with joy and life. The suffering and brokenness of this world so often intertwine and overlap with the great joys of life.

The surgeons successfully removed the tumor and six months later, baby Calvin was born. The parable continued: Yes, one day all evil and death in the world will be removed and Life will be fully born.

On Monday evening here in Bangkok, Michael and I saw Jamison's mom's Facebook post: "Dear friends, our hearts break as we let you know that our son, Jamison, his wife Kathryne, Ezra age 3, Violet almost 2, and baby Calvin, just 2 months old were all killed in a car crash yesterday (July 31). They were travelling to their final month of training before going to Japan as missionaries. They were stopped at a construction site when a semi rear ended, rode over them, and consumed their van in fire. They are now in the presence of our Lord. Job 1:21"

In my life, I have never been slammed with so much shock and grief at once. The evil, death, suffering, and brokenness of this world was at hand; it had taken five people that we loved; and the pain cut so deep. And I constantly remember that the loss we've experienced this week is just a fraction of the loss that their parents, siblings, grandparents, and closest friends are feeling.

And yet, even now, next to this malignant tumor of grief and death I see joy and life starting to form.

Numerous news stations and newspapers have sent the story of their love for Christ and their hearts for Japan far and wide. Some people have expressed the desire to go to Japan in their place. Jamison and Kathryne's parents are saying "no" to bitterness and are extending forgiveness to the truck driver. Jamison's wise, eloquent words on his blog, Joy of Japan, are being read by thousands upon thousands of people.
** 8/7 update - Their story has easily stretched to hundreds of thousands of people, perhaps millions. People.com; John Piper's funeral prayer **

The sorrow of losing this precious family is still so fresh. We were looking forward to years of friendship and co-laboring in Asia. Yet there are inklings of the joy and life that is to come. I am reminded once again that, just as the doctors extracted that deadly tumor allowing Calvin to grow and be born, one day, God will remove all brokenness, suffering, evil, and death in this world and a joyful, life-filled new heaven and new earth will be born. And this time, nothing will ever take it away.

Someday, we will all be reunited, and we will share and hear stories of how God worked this tragedy out for unimaginable good. I cry and grieve because the death of loved ones hurts, and yet I cling to these promises with great hope and expectation -- someday death will be swallowed up in victory!

Jamison's blog: joyofjapan.org
My favorite post on his blog was when Kathryne wrote: click here.

Consider giving to the Jamison & Kathryne Pals Family Foundation