One Delightful Year

Today marks one year since our precious Calla Olivia entered the world in our own Thailand home. She is my special gift from God. My only son was also my only child with whom I got to stay at home. I longed for a final little girl to share the same experience. Despite having three older daughter, I had never had the opportunity to name one after a flower. My tenacious, curious, curly-haired Calla Lily is definitely my daughter!

After four children, it could be difficult to imagine it would be possible to have another child with such a distinct personality. Yet again, Calla is unlike any of her siblings. She delights in being surrounded by her family. For awhile, she can be friendly with church members and Kids' Club attendee, but then she is ready to recharge with those who love her best. We used to think she was a "homebody," because she would be so excited to come home after being downstairs for Kids' Club or away at church. But then, she had just as much fun when it was just our family in a cabin at a national park. She is really a "family-girl."

With the possibly exception of Eris, Calla is our most persistent. She has pushed and squeezed herself past the baby gate into the kitchen when I was cooking. She has also used her little finger to patiently unscrew a small screw from a kitchen shelf. If she wants something, she will find a way to get it or scream to let the world know of her frustration; but she will not give up until distracted by being scooped up and taken away.

Our little Calla is also very observant. She learned to crawl, then walk, by watching a little boy at church. She noted that a child her age was accomplishing something she did not yet know how to do, so she figured out how to do it. Not long after her friend Luke learned to walk, Calla and I were unable to go to church for a series of Sundays. Calla used those weeks to perfect the technique she had observed in Luke. Our first Sunday back, she proudly walked right up to Luke and began to play with him. I frequently find her attempting to do something she has seen one of her siblings or parents doing. She knows she can learn much from carefully watching.

As always with a little one, Calla has occupied much of my time. But I have tried to cherish the snuggles nursing on the couch, the little hands clinging to my skirt, sharing my pillow in the night. I've not taken any moment with her for granted, and I've even managed to document a few of her "firsts" in a journal. This year had been one delightful blessing with my miracle number five!

A Visit to the Royal Crematorium

A week ago, after our trip to the U.S. embassy, we adventured off to Sanam Luang to view the Royal Crematorium of the late King Rama IX. Sanam Luang is a large oval field near the Grand Palace, specifically set aside for building a crematorium when necessary. At other times, it also serves as a parade grounds for royal birthdays and such celebrations. Its primary purpose only becomes necessary rarely.

A Thai Royal Crematorium is a lavish structure built for the funeral pyre of a king. The sandalwood for the building comes from a special forest which can only be harvested for this reason. The building is designed to replicate Mount Sumeru - the center of the universe according to Buddhist tradition. The structures are temporary; thus a new one is built for each king. The current crematorium is scheduled to be dismantled and make a tour around the country. Its final resting place is to be determined.

We had looked online to find a bit of information to help us navigate the wheres and hows of visiting the crematorium. However, nothing in Thailand is set, so we knew we would have to be flexible. Parking around Sanam Luang is terrible during the best of times. With thousands of people estimated to visit the crematorium each day and roads around it closed, parking would be a nightmare. We read about free buses from various parts of the city. We decided to leave the truck at a park near the embassy with free, unlimited time parking; take the subway to the train station; then take a free bus from there.

The first part of the journey was straight forward. Once at the Hua Lamphong Train Station, it took some asking around before we found the right spot to catch the bus. The bus did have a special sign over its usual number designating it as "Hualamphong-Sanam Luang." We had to wait a bit in the sweltering bus before it started and we could get a bit of breeze from the movement. The ride to the right part of town did not take too long, and we were soon hopping off ready for the next step.

We found ourselves in a crush of people, following a Chinese tour group. It was only about a five minute walk to the entrance of a large fenced area encompassing Sanam Luang and the roads around it. We were about to walk across the entrance bridge, when we were summarily and bit rudely shooed away. "Thai only! Foreigners that way!" We began to walk and walk and walk. The sun beat on us. I carried Calla and held Simeon's hand coaxing him to keep walking. Calla was getting heavy; I was hot and thirsty; my sandals were giving me blisters.

After walking about a kilometer, we came to the foreigners' entrance; the same place where one could enter to visit the Grand Palace. We got in line to display our passports and step through the metal detectors. At first, the guards wanted each person to hold his or her own passport up for the camera as they walked through. Calla was asleep in the baby carrier, but I attempted to display her passport as well as mine as I walked through. Hollis came next, then Simeon. After that, they gave up and let everyone else just walk through.

Now we had to walk the kilometer back to where place where Thai could enter; directly across from there was the entrance to Sanam Luang. If we were Thai, we would have been at Sanam Luang in about five minutes, instead we walked for an hour to get to the same place. When we arrived at the entrance, a lady first asked us why we were there. I guess she wanted to make sure we knew we were going to see the Royal Crematorium and weren't just there to wander around Sanam Luang. As if we would have made all that effort if we didn't know what we were planning to see. She then told us we might have to wait for an hour, and it might be too long. Philip said, "We've already been walking for an hour, what's another hour."

Once inside, we were welcomed with cold bottles of water, bags of little oranges, and banana muffins. We were each given a pink tag designating our group. We filed into plastic chairs under a white canopy and settled in to wait. We had scarcely finished our snacks, and our slowest eater Hollis was still eating, when our group rose and was ushered toward the Royal Crematorium. I was happy not to wait an hour but at this point a bit longer rest would not have been unwelcome.

The day before, I had showed the children the different parts of the crematorium, and we had read about the building and its uses as preparation for our field trip. They were excited to recognize a miniature rice field and patch of vetiver grass, as well as a small reservoir, in honor of King Rama IX's  in honor projects in those areas. Next we passed the building where the royal family wait prior to lighting the funeral pyre.We walked through a display of photos and drawings of past crematoriums. Finally, we were right at the current Royal Crematorium itself.

At 50 meters tall, with six pavilions surrounding the Principal Pavilion, towers grandly over Sanam Luang. The majority glitters with gold leaf with deep red stairs on all four sides. At the base, exquisite statues decorate the edges of a misting pond. Each of the four sides is dedicated to a different "auspicious" creature. The first side we see is the Elephant side. It is especially interesting to observe the elephants with fins and fish tails lounging in the water. Each elephant is brightly painted in fantastical colors.

We walk to the left to the Singha side. A singha is a mythical creature, a bit like a lion and a bit like a dragon. Some of the singha appeared to be dancing; others fighting. We continued to the third side, dedicated to oxen. Some of the oxen had fish tails and others had wings. The fourth side was for horses, including a few winged horses. Each statue was beautiful and carefully detailed. We enjoyed looking at each. As we looked, Simeon stated multiple times that he "really wished we could climb the stairs. Don't you wish we could climb the stairs?" We were thankful that he restrained himself and did not attempt to climb them.

After we had seen our fill, we walked to the exit. A lady there began talking to us, counting our children, and so forth. In a moment, we became a side tourist attraction with people lining up to get their picture taken with us. The lady-guard shouted out to all exiting, "Here are some farang (white people) who live in Thailand. They have one boy and four girls...." It took us awhile to politely extricate ourselves. Simeon was hamming it up smiling and saying "cheese!" to everyone and Calla was practicing her new skill of blowing kisses.

Finally, we made to the exit point. Last chance for bathrooms, so we all went. By the time, we got out, Philip and Calla had attracted another crowd. Another round of photos. This time Simeon was grumpy, so he hid behind me. We made it across the bridge and back into the crush of people. It didn't take long before we were able to hop on the right bus back to the train station.

Forty-five minutes later, the bus had basically made it around the block. The traffic was so bad we were literally going nowhere. Calla was tired, hot, and fussy. She couldn't get down and walk around; she couldn't get comfortable on my lap or Philip's. Simeon managed to fall asleep. A homeless lady intently watch Eris journal in her little diary. Hollis and Meriel played a game of their own devising. Finally, we made it through the seven-way intersection which was the bottleneck. It felt like we were able to speed the rest of the way to the train station.

A long day away from home, hot and sweaty and exhausted. We treated ourselves to picking up pizza on the the way home. That night, we were all in bed early. We were glad that we went; it was perhaps a once (or maybe twice) in a lifetime opportunity to visit a Royal Crematorium. We had experienced a bit of Thai culture and appreciated the beauty and artistry of the structure. I will long remember the experience, and I think the older children will as well.

(We forgot the camera at home, but we did get some not so good photos on Philip's phone. I will try to figure out how to get them on the computer to add sometime.)

I've Never Been

I long for Ireland. It may seem strange that I would have such a strong desire for a place I've never been. For nearly as long as I can remember, Ireland has captivated me: the songs, the dances, the stories. I delight in green; I am fond of rain; I am enchanted by wild seascapes. And I believe in fairies. I can't entirely explain it, but to Ireland I yearn to go.

This week, we have been studying the Irish Potato Famine. In preparation for this, a couple weeks ago, I pre-read Maggie's Door by Patricia Reilly Giff for Eris. When ever I read about Ireland and the Irish, my fascination revives and intensifies. Reading the story, I could picture my ancestors struggling through the famine, making difficult decisions, losing loved ones to death and emigration. Though my great-great grandparents did not travel to the United States until years later, they most certainly had friends and relatives who voyaged during the Hunger. I have been proud to share with my children a window into the story of our ancestors, and they have been eager to learn. Now, I'm ready for a field trip to Ireland next week.

As much as I really do want to visit Ireland, I don't know if I ever will have the chance. Amidst my wishful dreaming this week, another place I have never been for which I long has come to mind. I am assured that I will some day live in this place, and while Ireland may not live up to my expectations if I do visit, this place will certainly surpasses my most elaborate imaginings. I may not be able to defend my desire to visit Ireland, but I can tell you about this place. Jesus has said He is preparing a home for me there. If He is preparing, it will unquestionably be wonderful. More amazing even, is that He will dwell there with me.

I need to be careful not to let my wish for Ireland make me discontent with my current location. On the other hand, my eagerness for Heaven encourages me to live each moment here with and for my Lord. In daily, worshipful obedience to Him, this life can be more like Heaven, and I will be prepared when it is time to travel there. I can still hope to walk the Emerald Isle, but I will keep my heart on the streets of gold.

A Morning at the Embassy

Tuesday we had an appointment at the U.S. Embassy to renew the four older children's passports. They all expire in 2018, and we need to have new ones before we get our visas for next year. While dealing with the U.S. government is less complicated than the Thai government due to being able to speak English and clearer requirements, it is still not a pleasant experience. And anytime five children have to wait in a confined space for very long is even less enjoyable.

Bangkok traffic is notorious. We thought leaving at six o'clock in the morning should leave us enough time to get to our seven-thirty appointment. It was, except for the problem of parking. Philip let the kids and me out of the truck to walk to the embassy while he drove into nearby Lumpini Park to find a parking spot with unlimited hours. All of the parking spots were full, and people just idled in their vehicles until someone left. It took Philip ten minutes to get into the park, another ten for a parking spot to open up, and then he walked the ten minutes to the embassy. By this time, we were already late for our appointment, and we still had to go through security.

Even though we don't get to enter the luscious grassy grounds of the embassy, remaining on the "caged" perimeter, the security is strict. Each person is only allowed one cell phone which has to remain at the security desk. Electronic devices are not allowed nor large bags nor food and drink. This all makes the job of entertaining five little ones more difficult. I can only fit necessaries in my purse - one diaper and a package of wet wipes. No books, no toys, no snacks. The children look longing at the swathes of grass and beautiful flower gardens on the other side of the floor to ceiling fence. "Why can't we go over there?" This has already been a long morning and it's just begun.

We haven't had a chance to get passport photos because all the photo places near us use a blue background instead of the U.S. required white. The embassy is supposed to have an onsite place for photos, so Philip asks about this. The lady behind the heavy glass directs us down the ramp to a different entrance to the same building. The embassy website had warned that we needed to have exact change for the photos - 150 baht - but we had thought we would be able to pay 600 baht at once. We are dismayed to find that the photo booth is unmanned and only take bills not coins. Now 50 baht bills are hard to come by, while everyone has plenty of 20 baht bills and 10 baht coins.

I have one 50 baht bill, so I begin the process of taking photos while Philip goes off to try to find change from the cafe. I ask Eris to watch Calla so she doesn't wander too far, feed a 100 baht bill and then the 50 baht bill into the machine, and try to get Simeon situated for his photo. The camera cannot be adjusted, so I have to try to get Simeon's face in the oval. He is too short while kneeling on the tall stool and too tall when standing. I have to boost him up with one hand and stay out of the picture. He is craning his neck and nearly closing his eyes with the effort. After several terrible attempts, I decide to give him a break and get a photo of Meriel instead.

After Meriel photo is taken, I step aside to let another gentleman take a turn. Just then, Philip arrives with two more 50's. He runs off to try to get one more. I watch as the gentleman now in the booth inserts six 20's. The machine accepts them. I had assumed that it wouldn't take more than the required amount. We would be willing to lose ten baht to get this done. But by this time, Philip's already run off, and I don't have a cell phone to call him back. I try again with Simeon, and this time get a passable photo, though not great. (Yes, blame me for the terrible passport photos the kids will have for the next five years.) Then I get Hollis's.

Finally, Philip is back. An embassy lady has noticed our plight and given him 50 baht, even though she is technically not supposed to. At least Eris is tall enough not to have to do any strange contortions to get her face in the correct place. We get the photos taken quickly and wait for them to print. And wait and wait. None of the other photos has taken this long. I stick my face up to the slot to see if there is a jam, but notice nothing. The screen doesn't show any sign of anything being wrong - not "paper out" message or anything. Just asking for "150 baht." While we wait, I look over the booth for something that could help. There is a phone number to call for assistance. The sign says we can use a "wall phone" to call. Philip goes off to find a wall phone. He finds one that is broken. Another man waiting for his photo to print goes in different direction and find another phone that works. He comes back and tells us that someone is already on the way to fix the problem.

Now in Thailand, "someone is on the way" usually really means "someone will be leaving in about fifteens minutes to come fix the problem and he is not in a hurry." Surprisingly, we don't have to wait very long; maybe someone was actually "on the way." He added paper to the printer and out came Eris's photos. So now we had everything we needed.

We went back to the first room; Philip waited in line to show the paperwork and get a queue number. I tried to find a relatively out of the way spot for the kids to wiggle. The most open spot happened to be right near the television on CNN. Just then a sobbing lady came on the news describing in detail some horrible acts that had been done to her. (If you've been following the news, you probably can infer what it was.) I quickly ushered the kids around a corner into a tiny hallway where the payment counter was located and distracted them by beginning a silly word game.

It turned out we were in the right place, because the next step was to pay - no one will do anything until you pay first. I was going to pay with a credit card. We had to get four different receipts - one for each passport. This meant that four different charges were going to appear. The first three charges went through just fine, but the fourth wouldn't. The lady at the desk said that it was common for U.S. credit cards to reject after a certain number of charge and often, if we waited, the system would reset and we could proceed. She didn't know how long we would have to wait, and we did not want to wait any longer than necessary. We paid for the fourth passport in cash.

Now we could find submit all the paperwork for the passports and wait for the approval step. The kind lady at the payment counter had handed out U.S. candy to the children which entertained them for a few seconds. I was thankful for the wet wipes stashed in my overcrowded purse. Some chairs had cleared at this point, so we sat down. Hollis and Simeon kept arguing over chairs; Calla kept wanting to walk all over, bumping into strangers; Meriel wanted to be left alone in a too crowded space; Eris watched the television which had moved on to discussing Trump and Wikileaks.

We had finally settled down a bit, when the news looped back to the distressed woman. I told Philip that I was going to take the kids outside; we would be close enough, he could just poke his head out when our number came up. I scooted them out as fast as I could. Even though there wasn't really a place to play, it was less crowded outside. Calla kept running down the ramp, and actually only fell once or twice. Eris and Meriel took turns scooping her back up and returning her to the top. Simeon and Hollis tried their best to get in the way of every person ascending or descending the ramp. Then I caught them sticking their arms through the fence to grab a leaf from a tree on the other side. I thought, We're going to get kicked out of the embassy for dangerous children!

We waited for over an hour. Inside, Philip repeatedly heard people being told they didn't have all the proper paperwork and would need to come back another day with this or the other "official, notarized, legalized" document. Then, of course, while Simeon and Eris were in the bathroom, our number was finally called. I hurried Meriel and Hollis into Philip while I waited for the others to come out. The man that had our paperwork was kind and friendly. He smiled at the children as he called each name. He asked Philip and I if we swore that the information in the paperwork was true to the best of our knowledge. Yes, I'm fairly certain that I know the birth dates and locations of my children, considering I was there. Then he said the magic words, "Looks like everything is in order. You should be able to pick up your passports in about two weeks." Followed by the even better, "Only one of you has to be here to pick them up."

Ten o'clock in the morning, and it felt like three pm, but we had accomplished on goal and next time only Philip would have to make the trip. Now on to lunch and Sanam Luang.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Light Shall Shine Out of Darkness

Each year on the twelfth full moon, the country of Thailand celebrates light. This was our first windy Loi Kratong, which really highlighted the futility of the "prayers" floating down the canal. We are blessed to know and follow the Light of the world. We pray that we are able to shine our lights to lead others to the Light.

 The people who walk in darkness
Will see a great light;
Those who live in a dark land,
The light will shine on them. Isaiah 9:2

 but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.
1 John 1:7

 You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.“Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven. Matthew 5:14-16

Praise Him, sun and moon; Praise Him all stars of light! Psalm 148:3

  For you light my lamp; the Lord my God illumines my darkness.    Psalm 18:28

As we light the kratong...

 for you were formerly darkness, but now you are Light in the Lord; walk as children of Light Ephesians 5:8

We have light!

 The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? Psalm 27:1

The wind has blown out the light, but we have no need to worry. The LIGHT shines on.

  Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, “I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life.” John 8:12

Shielding from the wind...

We have light!

 For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness,” is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. 

2 Corinthians 4:6 

Praying this for Pratunam Pra-in and all of Thailand.

Plan, Replan, Plan Again

This week was one of those weeks where things just don't go as planned. Over the summer, I spent quite a bit of time outline our Bible and history lessons for the year. Each week I put together a daily schedule of subjects for Meriel and Hollis and a weekly checklist for Eris. This week, we managed to complete all the activities for celebrating Reformation Day - this year being the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther nailing his 95 theses to the door of the church in Wittenberg. The rest of the week seemed a lost cause.

Simeon was sick on Sunday (again). Sunday evening, Eris became violently ill. Into the wee hours of the morning on Monday, I was soothing her best I could. Just about the time Eris's sickness passed, Calla woke up. I settled Simeon, Eris, and Calla into bed with me. We managed to sleep the rest of the night fairly peacefully, but I was alert each time someone stirred. Simeon woke up at 6:30. I excused Eris from school for the day, and I was too exhausted to complete the full list of subjects with Meriel and Hollis.

Simeon vomited in the wee hours of Tuesday morning. At this point, he had been having intestinal problems for a month and the round of empirical (treating without knowing the exact bug) had not been effective. I made the decision that he had been sick too long, and it seemed that we needed to do some lab tests to figure out what was wrong. I really wanted to do the Reformation Day activities and his sickness wasn't urgent, so I planned to take him into the hospital on Wednesday. I knew it would mean that particular day would unproductive as far as school.

I was correct. After nearly 8 hours at the hospital, we were no closer to a diagnosis. (Partly because Simeon was the least sick he'd been in a long while - it always happens like that). And I knew I was going to need to go back to the hospital on Thursday to drop off a sample, meaning yet another day of little schoolwork. I was able to be thankful for the time with Simeon, as all four girls had stayed with Daddy. Though, next time we have one-on-one time, I'd rather it not be at a hospital.

Wednesday night, I was discouraged and exhausted. I was thinking about how I would manage to rearrange the schedules to fit all the schoolwork in. I quickly realized that now was not the time to figuring out solutions. I needed to rest and recoup first. In the morning, I would be able to see it all in a clearer light.

That is exactly what happened. As I was getting ready to make the trip to the hospital with Calla, I decided to take one of the girls for one-on-one time. I also realized, that I had the freedom to scrap or revamp any schedule of schooling that I needed. I am not required to teach a certain amount of material nor squeeze two weeks of learning into one. I have the joy of teaching my children so that they learn, so that they delight in learning. One of the things I can teach them is that things do not always go according to plan; we need to step back and re-evaluated what is most important and make a new plan.

So this afternoon, we did just that. We didn't stress about what we didn't do this week. We picked a few subjects to complete this week, a handful of topics to move to next week, simplified a couple of activities, and created a new completely doable plan. So even if our school week didn't go according to plan, maybe we learned a bit more than if it had.

King

Today marks the finale of a year of mourning in Thailand. King Rama IX will be cremated in a ceremony this evening. I do not in the least understand all the events and proceedings, but I do know it is solemn and unique occasion. Even all the 7-11's (which are many) and chain supermarket Tesco Lotus stores are closed. Less traffic than usual zooms by on the road in front of our house. English Class and Kids' Club are cancelled this weak. Most people I do spy out the window wear solid black.

Our part in these events are small and peripheral. Last year on October 13, we were riding in a van with church members to participate in a weekend youth retreat. We chatted and kept the children entertained. Then Pastor Winnet (the head pastor) received a call on his phone. As he hung up, he quietly announced that the king had passed. Even though it hadn't been unexpected, we were all a bit stunned. When a man is nearly 89 years old and has served his country for more than 70 years, his passing is a shock.

Everything seemed normal as we arrived at the army owned retreat center on the sea. We began to wonder if Pastor's contact was mistaken. The official public announcement didn't broadcast on television until we were eating our very late supper. Then we all watched as the television showed black and white footage of King Rama IX's life. Philip and I were glad to be in the company of Thais with whom we were comfortable and could ask questions. In those first days, there were many unknowns.We took our cue for how to behave from those around us. We had not packed black clothing, but tried not to wear our most flamboyant shirts and skirts. My outfit options were particularly limited since I was almost 8 months pregnant. The wild outdoor games planned for the youth were switched for calmer activities. Mainly, life went on as usual just a bit subdued.

We chose to participate in the year of mourning recommended by the government by wearing predominately black. Philip felt that it wouldn't be remiss to be considerate to the point of even dressing the children in black. Over a year later, we are still dressed in black, at least when we go out in public. The only time Calla has worn bright colors was during the four weeks we spent in the United States last winter. I don't share this to show how "wonderful" we are for doing this or how much of a "hardship" it has been, but just as a major part of our lives here in Thailand.

Tomorrow will venture outside wearing pinks, blues, purples, flowery skirts, and vivid shirts. It will feel a bit strange. But we are also ready to embrace all the colors of the rainbow back into our wardrobe. For tonight, Philip will be with church members joining hundreds of thousands from all over Thailand to bid farewell to King Rama IX.

Last year, three year old Simeon was a bit confused between King Jesus and King Rama IX; he knew both died but  had trouble remembering which rose again to live forever. After much repetition and encouragement, he now knows that Jesus is the King of the world who reigns forever. We are blessed to know this King and pray that Thailand will come to know Him as well.

Of Plants and Prayers

Just the day after I wrote about my laundry balcony and lovely plants last week, I discovered that my two little trees are infested with mealybugs. These are little white, fuzzy creatures which suck their sustenance from the plant, destroying their host. Ants feast on a nectar-like substance that mealybugs excrete, so I was able to follow trails of thousands of ants around the plants, tracking down hundreds of bugs and squashing them. In my zeal for ridding my plants of these pests, I probably spent nearly thirty minutes searching them out. I finally had to return downstairs when I heard Calla screaming, Simeon fussing, and Meriel shouting. I don't normally take that long just to start a load of laundry and chaos was breaking loose.

Later in the day, I went back up to hang laundry. I discovered still more of the creatures of the blight.  One of the trees looked especially droopy and had a few yellowing leaves. I berated myself for not noticing earlier, but the bugs like to hide in places where to two branches cross or under leaves, so are difficult to spot. We always have thousands of ants around our house, so their presence didn't seem unusual. In the limited time I could spend on the balcony before running back downstairs to corral, calm, and teach children, I killed all the bugs I could find. While I hung laundry, I found myself praying that God help my plants to survive.

I know that God cares about me and all life on earth, so I don't think praying for my plants is wrong. However, the story of Jonah did come to mind and convicted me about my priorities. If you don't remember the less celebrated ending of Jonah, I'll give a quick synopsis. After Jonah warn the Ninevites about God's impending wrath, he sits outside the city to see what happens. A plant grows up and provides shade for Jonah. While Jonah rests in the shade, the people of the city repent and God forgives and spares them. At this point, Jonah becomes upset with God; he wanted the people to get what they deserved. (How easily we forget to be thankful that we don't get what we deserve....) Then God allows a worm to come and destroy Jonah's plant. When Jonah complains, God explains to Jonah that his love for people, including those of Ninevah, is greater than Jonah's love for the plant which he did nothing to help create or grow, so why shouldn't He have pity on His creation?

I concluded that I could indeed continue to pray for my plants, but I should first be more diligent in praying for the people whom God loves and asking Him to give me His heart for the lost. I do regularly pray for the ministries here - Kids' Club and English Class. But I don't routinely pray for the neighborhood and the future of this church. In this season, God is teaching me to pray faithfully for that which He lays on my heart. So I am using my afflicted plants to remind me to bring to the Father all the lost walking, riding mo-peds, and living in my neighborhood each day.

In January, Tawipon Church (where we live) will begin holding regular Sunday morning church services. Ajan (Pastor) V, will be leading with Philip also sharing some. I commit to praying diligently for my neighbors; for Ajan V, his family, and other involved in the ministry; and for the upcoming infant church. God used the jeopardy of my plants to get my attention and remind me of something I should already have been doing. I hope that my trees don't have to die, but if they do, may many new lives be born through the resulting prayers.

Why I (Still) Hang the Laundry

This week I've been thinking about my laundry time. I've delegated many household chores to my growing children. They wash the dishes, sweep the floor, pick up toys, and fold laundry. So why do I still hang the clothes? About two years ago I wrote about hanging laundry (Thoughts on Hanging Out the Wash), and most of those thoughts are still relevant. I actually do, in a way, like hanging laundry.

As the children have gotten older, they don't always follow me upstairs, so I can sometimes snatch a few moments for myself. Despite hundreds of neighbors living within fifty feet, I consider myself in solitude. I've always felt closer to God outdoors, in nature. My small balcony garden has grown, and now I have twelve potted plants. Chances are one of them will have a blooming flower; I might get to spy a butterfly feeding or a spider spinning. Just seeing the green is refreshing.

My laundry hanging time is my prayer time. I'm often thrown into the day by a child dragging me from sleep. I change diapers, start a load of laundry, prepare breakfast. As I stumble out of bed, I call out, "Good morning, God. Help!" Not until about two (or more) hours later do I have a chance to breathe. I dash up the stairs and begin hanging. I thank God for my green, for my family, for His will. If you're a family member, I pray for you here; if I pray for you daily, it happens here; if I've told you you're on my "laundry hanging" prayer list, this is when I do so; if God brings you to my mind, I cover you. I pray hanging up and taking down. I do at least one load of laundry every day except Sunday. These laundry prayers keep us going.

Many times a child or two will follow me upstairs: to water the plants, to ask questions, to play with the sprayer in the bathroom (Simeon!), to push the buttons on the washing machine (Simeon, again!). But I still pray. Mommas are pretty good at multi-tasking. If I'm having a hard day, my prayers are more serious and concentrated. If the day is going well (or it's a rainy day, which I love - maybe another post in the making), I sing. Remember those hundreds of neighbors? They've gotten used to it, but they used to look out their apartment windows and wonder, "Who is that crazy white lady?!"

My favorite time of day? Maybe when all the kids are in bed and I'm just now getting around to bringing in the laundry. This happens fairly often. Even if it rains, I just roll laundry rack indoors and grab the clothes on hangers, so I still have to take them down later. On the balcony, it's finally cooling down a bit; maybe there's a breeze that doesn't make it into the house. I might see some stars or the moon peeking out behind cloud skittering across the sky. A bat chasing mosquitoes dips and whirls. I breathe deeply; I relax; I take down clothes and pray.

Last night, I felt worn out. I just sat on the rickety plastic stool on which I usually set my basket. My prayers didn't have words. Finally, I mustered enough energy for the final push of the day. Before I stepped in the house, I looked up at the cloudy sky. A lone white crane winged his way home across the sky; peace entered my heart. Thank you, God, for the gift.

Now how could I delegate all that to my children?

First Steps

Let me invite you to a scene of delight: last Thursday evening...

I am reading Hollis's bedtime story, Jungle Drums by Graeme Base, about a little warthog who learns to be happy with who he is. Calla is standing, leaning against the couch. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her stepping forward; she takes one steady step, then a second, before toppling forward to her knees. Her first steps! I interrupt the story to clap and cheer for her. The kids are wildly excited - hopping about, laughing and cheering. I finish the story with a wide smile on my face.

A bit later, Philip is eating a late supper after English class. The younger kids are supposed to be completing the final steps in preparing for bed. Calla is trying to climb up onto the couch. I kneel on the floor a few steps away. "Come here, Calla! Walk to Mommy!" And she does.

All thoughts of bedtime are put on hold as Calla becomes a star. The kids take turns. One of them helps Calla stand steady against the couch, while another kneels a few steps away. "Come here, Calla! Walk to me!" And she does. Sometimes two steps, sometimes four or five. A few times, she successfully toddles the distances and walks confidently into outstretched arms. More often, she ends up falling headlong the last bit.

Every effort is met with cheering and clapping. Calla delightedly claps for herself. Simeon crows about the "wonderful baby walking show." Philip beams from the dining room table. I gladly take my turn as the receiver of the this talented baby. A baby taking her first steps is a small miracle. This night will become a precious jewel of a memory for our family.

A Day at Namtok Haew Sai

This week, I'm going to back track to our Nam Nao trip to tell you about my favorite day. You've read the story about our waterfall hike day (Bees!). We so enjoyed our short time at Haew Sai Waterfall at the end of the trek, we decided to plan a day to just play. We dressed in grubby clothes, packed a picnic lunch, applied sunscreen, and climbed into the van for the short drive.

The day was relaxing. We did not encounter any exciting animals nor enjoy an thralling adventure. It was a time of pleasure in God's creation - a natural swimming pool with a cascade of water splashing down. The water was cool enough to be refreshing but certainly not cold. Downstream from the waterfall the creek shallowed out into a perfect place for the children to splash.


Since we live in the city without a yard, the chances for Calla to get dirty outside are few. A sandy beach sloped down to the edge of the pool, so she could sit and splash.  It was truly a pleasure to let her play in the muddy sand and water. She dug in the dirt, splashed herself and anyone near her, and crawled in the sand. She had so much fun, she didn't want to take a nap.

Grandpa took each of the kids across the pool to shower in the waterfall. I played in the falls with Grandpa, too, jumping and splashing. Eris managed to build on her scattered sessions of waterpark "swimming lessons" with Mommy and finally learned to swim with Grandpa. Meriel had a short lesson, as well.

Even though, she can't swim yet, we discovered Meriel can make quite a splash and keep part of her head above water. We had warned her to stay in the shallow part of the creek and pointed out a deep area. She forgot and tried to make a short cut across to a rock. Next thing we knew, Meriel's hair was just clearing the water while she frantically splashed. It didn't take Daddy but a moment to rush to her and pick her up.


I had some "child-free" time to swim in the deep water. Floating on my back, looking up at the beautiful foliage, bright blue sky, and stream of falling water, I felt peaceful and thankful. I wished we had a place nearby like this, but mostly I chose to be grateful for the time I did get to spend there.

Jaz the Caterpillar

A little more than three weeks ago, I noticed a large caterpillar on my jasmine plant. I have a few plants on my balcony, and it really brightens up my day to see them the several times a day I go up there to take care of laundry. For a couple days, I carefully watched the caterpillar and began to get concerned that he would kill my small jasmine with his voracious appetite. I decided to put him a in a jar, so I could pick leaves from various parts of the plant and see if he would eat anything else. Well, once I set a "home" up for him inside the house, I realized I was committed to keeping and raising him.

The first thing to do was see if he would eat anything besides jasmine leaves. I researched what kind of caterpillar he was - finally figuring out he was a 'death's head hawk moth caterpillar.' Turns out there are three species, two are found in the Asia and the other Europe. I was able to find the most information on the European kind, but this turned out to be not very helpful. Apparently, European caterpillars will eat lettuce and cabbage - not so my Asian caterpillar. I did find that he would eat the leaves of another one of my plants, but it was also quite small. With such a voracious appetite, I wasn't sure either of my plants would be able to survive, but I couldn't just leave him to die now! I carefully fed him leaves of both plants and began considering trying to find another jasmine plant or even surreptitiously sneaking a few leaves from neighbor's plants along the street.

On the first day of school, I decided to officiously declare the caterpillar a part of school. We had already been taking care of him together - picking and feeding him leaves, watching him eat, cleaning up the frass (caterpillar poop). We felt he must have a name. After various suggestions, mostly regarding his appearance, I hit upon Jaz for the jasmine plant on which he was found. All the children thought this was perfect. So Jaz became part of our school. I did remind the children that when he turned into a moth, we would let him go!

On the morning of the second day of school, I noticed that Jaz had turned an odd orangish color and was trying to bury himself in the shallow dirt of his enclosure. That was the sign he was ready to pupate. Hooray, my plants were saved! I quickly got a more suitable container with a more dirt so he could bury himself properly. I called the kids, and we all watched him quickly push under the dirt. He was fast! I told the kids we needed to leave the container alone for a few days, as Jaz would be really vulnerable.

After three or four days, I carefully brushed away the dirt above the place where Jaz was buried. He had made himself a little hollow of hardened dirt. I gently broke a small hole in the case, so we could peer in at the cocoon. Jaz surprised me by squirming a bit. From then, it was a waiting game. From what I had read, I expected it to be about 3 weeks until he emerged. I also knew that the cocoon would become black before the exciting event.

I carefully removed the dirt covering to get a good look.

Two weeks after he had buried himself, I noticed that the cocoon seemed to be becoming darker. In fact, in just a few hours it noticeably darkened further. Even though it was early, I decided to place netting over the container to be ready for the "hatching." We all hoped to be able to see the actual event, but in the case it was at night, we didn't want Jaz flying around loose in the house.

Here the dirt case is replaced.

The next morning, Calla woke me early. The first thing I did was check on Jaz. Things appeared to be unchanged. I did my normal morning routine, then settled on the couch to check on the world via Facebook. A moment later, I noticed some fluttering out of the corner of my eye. I looked more closely and saw a moth fluttering around the house! This couldn't just be coincidence. I ran over to the container on the dining room table. The netting looked mostly in place, but a bit of it had been slightly pushed up. The cocoon was still mostly concealed by the little dirt cave Jaz had created, and the part I could see seem whole. I carefully removed the netting and the dirt covering. Sure enough, the hidden part of the cocoon was slit open!


I had really expected the disturbance in the container to be obvious if Jaz had emerged. And I did not expect that he would so actively try to push his way out. I thought he would calmly sit and dry his wings for the 6 hours required. But no, it seems he had been very secretive in his activities. Either he had hatched very shortly after I had gone to bed, or he hadn't waited the full time for his wings to harden. Now I had to find him before he got lost in the house and died or made his way out without the kids ever getting to see him in his moth form!

I spent nearly an hour going from room to room, searching without success. Hollis, then Simeon, the Meriel awoke. I delivered the news to each. Hollis stared wide-eyed and serious. Simeon wailed, "I didn't get to see him and now he's gone!" Meriel calmly noted, "If I couldn't see him hatch, I at least wanted to see him as a moth." Not knowing what else to do other than wait to see if Jaz would appear on his own, I began to get ready for breakfast. I stepped into the "dressing room," a small windowless room in the middle of the house where we keep our clothes, to get shorts for Calla. I switched on the light and happened to look directly above the door, and there was Jaz! I don't know if I had somehow missed him earlier or if he had moved, but I was certainly relieved. I excitedly called the children. I woke up Eris to come see. We looked, exclaimed, and took pictures. His size of 2 1/2 inches made me suspect he was the smaller of the two Asian species (Acherontia styx). (I am uncertain as to whether he was actually male, but it seemed easier to pick a pronoun rather than to say "it.")

 So we all got to see Jaz as a moth. Even though we didn't get to see his emergence, his escape made the event quite exciting. When Philip awoke, we quickly alert him to Jaz's whereabouts so his wing wouldn't get clipped by a shutting door. Philip helped on get him into a jar to take him outside. Jaz flapped and buzzed rather alarmingly in the large jar, but we got him up onto the balcony onto the trunk of a potted tree. Each time we checked on him throughout the day, he appeared not to have stirred. We hoped him wasn't injured. I saw him at about 6:30 shortly before it began to get dark. When I went up again about an hour later, he was gone.

So our science experiment from munching caterpillar to buried cocoon to moth flying away in the night was a success! I'm think the children will remember this experience for the rest of their lives; I know I will.

Loneliness

I like to write about our interesting travels, day to day life, and some of my struggles. Sometimes, it is hard to be transparent with my difficulties, but I want to share the "real me." Ever since we've moved to Thailand, loneliness has been a challenge for me. I am not some one who needs to be around a lot of people most of the time. Neither do I require very much alone time (Thankfully, since I get virtually none.) What I do desire is one or two friends, companions with whom to live and discuss life. From childhood through medical residency, each place I've lived and stage of life has brought new friends - really family that have support and encouraged me. People I could cry with, pray with; those who would help me in any way and I could help them.

Here in Thailand, I've not developed anything I would consider a true friendship. It takes time and shared experiences. Bangkok traffic is such that it take so long to get anywhere, so people don't get together outside of weekends unless they live quite near one another. Culturally, Thai people don't generally invite people to their homes. The people who come to Tawipon Church (our home) to minister with us are loving, kind, and could be friends if I could ever get my Thai up to scratch. For me friendship involves being able to communicate desires, fears, daily life joys and trials. I am simply unable to do that in Thai. I go months without a face-to-face conversation with a native English speaker outside of my family.

So what about my family? Philip? Yes, he is a good friend, but he is also a man. He has not clue what it is like to be a woman, a mother. He is willing to listen but cannot share in the same way a girl friend can. Eris? Well, she is a friend, too, but she is ten. She can understand things that Philip cannot, because she spends much of the day with me. She can commiserate with Calla figuring out how to climb up on everything; she help me to cook and clean. But she is my daughter; I am teaching her, discipling her. I am the one she comes to for help and encouragement. It is not time for her to reciprocate.

What about Skype? That is probably what keeps me sane. I can talk with my parents, and especially my sister-friends. When the internet connection is good and my children cooperate, it's great! We can really share our hearts and prayers, struggles and joys. But we can't hug one another. We can't exchange baby-sitting for date nights. But it's enough to satisfy some of my longings.

The last time I read "Little House on the Prairie" series to my children, I really noticed the isolation of the family. As a child, I used to think why Ma was so set on living near a town. Now I understand. I am with Ma, now; I want to join in times of singing and spelling bees and Christmas dinners. I can imagine not seeing anyone but my family for weeks at a time living in the big woods; then leaving family to travel to a place where I wouldn't see anyone but my family for months. So yes, I am thankful to have what I do have.

I've just started reading A.W. Tozer's "The Pursuit of God." In it, he talks about how we as humans have the innate ability to know God - that have a friendship with God. We can and need to pursue this. This is what Christianity, our very lives are all about. In the midst of my loneliness, I don't always turn to Jesus, but I am learning to. I don't think it's wrong for me to desire human friendship; God designed us for that. But when I don't have it, I can use this time to develop an intimacy with the one who "sticks closer than a brother." Maybe I'll even write Psalm or two as I shepherd my little flock in the concrete wilderness.

Bees! (Grandpa's Perspective)

Wasps at Nam Nao National Park - August 2017
Introduction:  I am Grandpa.  I was once Daddy, and before that I was Uncle William, then William, then Bill, and way before that I was Billy.  Identity can be confusing, because inside I am just the same old me.  When I am with my Daughter's Family I am Grandpa, Daddy, and William - depending on who is addressing me and my role at the time.  In this story, I will be addressed as Grandpa, which means everyone is who they are from the perspective of the Grandchildren.  So, here I am, Grandpa telling his story about "Wasps at Nam Nao National Park".

We had driven the five, or so, hours up North from Ayutthaya (sp?) to Nam Nao National Park.  Grandpa (65yrs), Grandma (60yrs), Daddy (37yrs), Mommy (34yrs), Eris (10yrs), Meriel (8yrs), Hollis (6yrs), Simeon (4yrs), and CallaOlivia (8 months) all looked forward to the 6 night stay in a jungle cabin.  We had stayed 3 nights in a jungle cabin before at Kao Yai, but this time we really wanted Mommy to get out of the city noises and replace them with the peace that comes with the sounds of the jungle.  

This day we were on one of Daddy's long walks.  Daddy usually chooses a goal and we go for it, and nothing can stop us, except wasps and leeches (another story).  Daddy had decided on two walks, and it Grandpa's duty to follow-up in the rear so tigers and elephants don't eat the Grandchildren.  I do not allow Grandchildren to walk behind me because that is how the wild animals pick off the young and weak - of which I am neither.  I am at my peak in my fierceness, evidenced by how few tigers and elephants show up on my walks.

So, Daddy says we are going to do two walks, the loooooong one first and the short one second.  Of course I had my compass and flashlight in my backpack, along with Pepsi and water, bug repellent, sunscreen, flipflops, extra shorts, longsleeved shirt, extra cellphone batteries, and plenty of double A batteries for my flashlight, just in case we got lost.  I never was a boy scout, but I am prepared.
And here we are on the long walk through the Jungles of Nam Nao where, as usual, the trail comes to a fork.  When we get to these forks, we have a system.  Daddy goes one way and Grandpa goes the other way and then we (hopefully) come back and tell the other what we have found - like if the trail keeps going, or it is an animal trail where tigers and elephants are waiting, or if we indeed have found the correct human trail.  I knew if we stayed on the ridge we could turn around and find our way home.  In this case Daddy goes left and Grandpa goes right, staying on the top of the ridge.  And this time, Daddy had taken (almost) 4 year old Simeon with him, and I/Grandpa had gone ahead with the ones who usually lag behind with me and Grandma, Meriel and Hollis (who I dropped off with Grandma).  10 year old Eris usually takes care of whoever needs her, so in this case she had been with Grandma and Hollis (6yrs), while Meriel (8yrs) was with me.  Mommy had CallaOlivia (Baby-in-Arms) and she always keeps up with Daddy, but in this case she and Grandma and Hollis were waiting at the Fork in the Trail.  Grandma, never wanting to waste time, decided to make an big arrow out of logs to point the way back home.  Now, if she had asked me (which she usually doesn't), I would have told her that this was not necessary because the trail is obvious since we are following the ridge.  But, Grandma made her Log Arrow as Grandpa, Meriel and Eris blazed the trail ahead.  I hear Daddy’s call to me that I am on the right trail as the other one was obviously an animal trail.

 "Whew", I was thinking, "this is indeed a long trail, I wonder when we will turn around?" 
 Now Meriel and Eris were walking behind Grandpa and we were way ahead of the "slowpokes" :)  and we were making really good time.  Of course I was looking out in the distance through the jungle, trying to see tigers and elephants, and I have to admit, while we didn't see any, we certainly smelled some big wild ox and even saw their fresh footprints.  And then we would also see occasional footprints of the deer as well - but no elephants.  I honestly did not expect to see any tigers, but the Visitor Center did have impressions of Tiger Footprints, and a clear plastic box of Tiger Poo, so one never knows.  So I was seriously looking for elephants, wild ox, and maybe even a silly monkey (we knew how to deal with monkey attacks by throwing one peanut-butter and jelly sandwich to the pack of them and letting the fight over it as we ran away).

So, here we are, just happily minding our own business, with me up front and Meriel right behind, and she and Eris just chattering away, when all of a sudden, there was screaming behind me!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I turned to see Eris running back on the trail and Meriel running towards me.  I turned from Billy the explorer to the fierce Grandpa in action.  Somehow I threw off my pack, ripping out the longsleeved shirt, throwing off my hat, and was beating the wasps off of Meriel with my shirt.  Yes, my Granddaughter was being attacked by wild beasts!!!  And I was attacking them ferociously. 
At this time we were about 30 feet from the hive and the wasps were just swarming all around us, but somehow we were making real headway as we moved even further from the nest and the wasps were not resisting being knocked away.  I felt a sting in my right shoulder and awaited more when all of a sudden they were gone and I had a crying little girl who I examined carefully and found free of wasps.  Daddy then came and swept her into his arms and took her back to the main group.  Hmmmm …  Well, I was wondering what would turn us around from that loooooong walk.

I carefully recovered my backpack which was close to the swarming nest, but they didn’t seem interested in chasing or stinging me, but they were still swarming all around me.  I couldn’t find my hat and I determined that I was not going to leave without it.  Meriel’s camera was right in the middle of the swarming nest and so I started looking for a long bamboo stalk to pick it up by its strap.  Daddy showed up then and told me that he had grabbed my hat when he picked up Meriel.  It was obvious that everyone was doing OK in Mommy and Grandma’s arms, so the two of us found a long bamboo stalk and recovered her camera.  We amazingly didn’t get stung and the wasps were not at all interested in the camera.  We took a good look at the swarming nest and saw that it was about a foot off the ground on a small cutoff stub of a tree on the edge of the trail.  A human trailmaker had obviously cut the small tree off and unfortunately for everyone, including the poor wasps, the wasps decided it was a great place for a nest.  I kinda wanted to get out my camera and get a good picture, but I kinda did not want to get stung anymore, so we just took a good look and left the wasps alone.
So now Daddy and Grandpa had returned to the Group for our hike back, but we found the Group in disarray because Eris and Hollis had ran off back down the trail.  Grandma had called after them to stop, but the wild animal instinct in them was so great that they had just run and run and run.  So Daddy ran after them, frantically calling their names, “Eris !!!  Hollis !!!!  Eris !!! Hollis !!!”  Grandpa was calculating how long it would take to get a search party out.  I remembered all of the Search and Rescue gear at the Ranger Station, and saw all of the soldiers there in their gear for the Celebration of the Queen of Thailand Birthday, so I knew that, if we didn’t find them soon, the soldiers would be swarming the jungle in no time.  Grandpa, Grandma, Mommy (with CallaOlivia), Meriel, and Simeon were walking back when we came to Grandma’s “Arrow in the Trail”.  Mommy remarked how bad Eris’ sense of direction was, but that she was glad that she was with Hollis because 6 year old Hollis has an excellent sense of directions.  Grandma remarked that hopefully they had remembered her arrow and followed it.  

Mommy couldn’t just abandon her children to the fates, so she and CallaOlivia took off, leaving Grandma, Grandpa, Meriel, and Simeon following behind, as we heard the distancing cries,  “Eris !!! Hollis !!! Eris !!! Hollis !!!”  We listened carefully for the girls answer back, but heard only forlorn silence.  We had hoped the girls’ wild instincts had not sent them running down some animal trail off into the jungle, but hoped and prayed that they had found and stayed on the main trail.  We also kept, in our hearts, that they would wait, about a kilometer away, at the top of the Falls for us.  Somewhere along the long trek we heard the girls voices joined with their parents and relief flooded Grandma and Grandpa.  

We found Daddy and Mommy (and CallaOlivia) sitting with Eris and Hollis on the top of the Waterfalls.  Eris’ swollen foot was soaking in the cool water.  She had been stung once.  Turns out that she had run away from the wasps and told Daddy, “BEES!!!!” and Daddy had told her to “RUN !!!”, so Eris ran, grabbing Hollis along the way, and ran down the jungle mountain.  Grandma had called out after her, but Eris held true to Daddy’s imperative, “RUN !!!”  When Eris came to Grandma’s Arrow, she followed it faithfully.  Grandpa just chuckled when he heard this as Grandma beamed proudly.  So we gathered ourselves and we prayed together thanking the Lord for safely bringing us back together and then we walked down to the place which indicated, “Short Walk and Loooooong Walk” and we took the short walk to the base of the falls and we all went a splashing in the beautiful tropical falls pouring itself into the refreshing pool.   We found some Thai young people there as well and they played in the water and gave us their beautiful smiles as well.

Did I mention that I had put my swimsuit into my backpack?  Well, Mommy gave me permission and I changed into it and jumped into the water and even splashed a Thai boy with my cupped hands.  Grandpa also decided to tell them, warn them, about the wasp nest and what had happened to Meriel.  So Grandpa skillfully re-enacted the whole scene to them as his family just laughed and shook their heads.  Grandpa was very sure that they understood his sign language, especially the part with the wasp wings buzzing around.  I mean, doesn’t everyone understand flapping hands held about shoulder height as the wings of insects?  Grandpa could hardly wait to tell them, at the Ranger Station, about the wasp nest.