an unexpected dilemma.

So, here we are.

Finally in Thailand.

Finally on the ground with a real picture of what life will look like. Finally able to smell it, see it, feel it, experience it. Finally able to embrace this place as home. (And before I go any further, I just need to take a moment to praise God for this. For the past year we have been saying to ourselves and everyone else, "We just need to get there." And well, here we are. And my, how blessed we really feel. There's this excitement in the air of finally getting to see the plan unfold and go to work. To soak it all in and dive in head first. And so, we are giving thanks. Raising our hands in praise and saying, "Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus! We are here!!")

But even with all that being said, I must say that Thailand is nothing like we imagined. At all. (Funny how nothing ever really is...)

And while I'm not exactly sure what we expected, all I know is that this definitely wasn't it. It was probably our arrogant view of missions mixed with our American ethnocentrism, but we came to Thailand expecting to suffer. We left home thinking we were giving up everything, never expecting to get anything in return. And even though people had told us that Thailand was an "easy" place to live, we still had in our minds that we would sleep on dirt floors, never have a warm shower, eat strange and unusual food and feel incredibly lonely and deprived. The funny thing is, not only did we expect to suffer, we actually wanted to. Call us crazy, but to us, that was just the definition of being a "missionary". Call us prideful, but the more we suffered, the more we thought we were doing for God. The more we suffered, the more we mattered. And consequently, the more we suffered, the more people would pray and the more our supporters would keep on giving.

But we have to admit to you, whoever "you" are out there, that the Sauders are not suffering. People were right. Thailand is, in fact, a very easy place to live. We have hot showers. The buildings are air-conditioned and clean. The infrastructure is developed and manageable. The people are friendly and helpful. There are equivalents to Walmart, Whole Foods, Ikea, Macys, Home Depot. The hospitals are good and safe. The houses, beautiful. The weather, perfect.

And while you'd think that all these things would make us thankful, we are actually having a really hard time with it. I guess you could say, the lack of suffering is causing some tension within our hearts.

What an unexpected dilemma.

This tension came to a head when we found and signed the lease for our house...

(See? I told you we weren't suffering.)

To be very honest, posting this picture is also really hard for us. We hate that it's not a grass hut like we imagined. We hate that it could come across that the Sauders have moved to Thailand to "live in extravagance". We hate that it could be seen that we are going about this all wrong--that we know nothing about cross cultural ministry and are hurting our witness by living in this home. We hate that it could be said by many that we are being irresponsible with people's financial sacrifices to us.

We know these concerns. We know some people will not understand this decision. And we know that we may be judged for being missionaries, on support, not suffering for Jesus.

But, we also know our genuine hearts in moving to Thailand, in searching for a home, in serving God. We know that we walked away from the American dream, never even thinking we'd have a home in Thailand. We know that we didn't come here to pursue comfort or our own selfish desires. We know that we have prayed through every big purchase, asking God to give us great wisdom, discernment and peace. And we know that God has answered many of our prayers through the blessing of this house.

We prayed to live in a neighborhood close to our language school and team leaders. Check. We prayed for a place that fit within our budget. Check--our landlords even came down 1/3 of the price to accommodate our financial needs. We prayed for a Thai neighborhood with friendly neighbors to develop relationships with. Check--we've been told that our neighbors are so very excited to meet us and want us to stop by (a blessing in and of itself as Thais are usually very private people). We prayed for a person of peace, for someone that would take us under their wing and embrace us. Check--our landlords are, simply put, amazing. They remind me of my grandparents, which is saying a lot. The landlady, Air, is one of the most hospitable, fun-loving, accommodating, helpful people I've ever met. She told me that I could come to her house every day, that she'd take me to all her favorite markets. She said we'd be great friends and that she'd help me learn Thai. Right after we met them, I just looked at Steven and said, "Could God really be giving me a set of "grandparents" here in Thailand? Does He really love me that much?" Yes, God has been so good to us. We have felt His goodness to us through our landlords.

And so, we know that God has gone before us in finding this house. We are confident that this is where we should live for now, even though we are uncomfortable with what image it could project. This unexpected dilemma has been so good for us to wrestle through. We have been forced to process a lot of our own issues and unbiblical thinking and as a result, have been sanctified and grounded in our one and only identity--Christ followers.

As Christ followers, we are accountable to the Lord and the Lord alone. To buy a nice house for the approval of man is wrong. But, to not rent a nice house for the approval of man is also wrong. For both seek after man and not the Maker.

As Christ followers, we are serving the Lord through all things--whether we live in a grass hut or a nice house.

As Christ followers, we find our worth in the person of Jesus Christ, not in our suffering for Him. "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God-- not by works, so that no one can boast." Maybe God wants us to see that our desire to suffer is an unacceptable sacrifice--for it has been rooted in pride and sinful motives. Maybe He wants us to see that it's not works, no matter how good they may be, that wins His heart. Maybe He wants to crush all our expectations so that we can't boast in anything but Him. Maybe God was seeing that suffering was becoming for our sake, not for His.

As I was talking through this the other day with a friend, he said this to me:

"Thanks for being there. And no less thanks just because you might enjoy it."

Wow. How truthful and freeing that was to hear. So freeing to know that I don't need to be miserable to serve God here. So freeing to know that it's okay to be blessed by God, both spiritually and physically, and to enjoy His gifts to us. So freeing to know that I don't have to feel guilty that Thailand has Starbucks, that it doesn't take away from our ministry or love for the Lord. So freeing to know that I can relax, enjoy these little bits of home that God has given us here, and be unashamed of it.

So, here we are. Finally in Thailand. Dealing with unexpected dilemmas that were never on our horizon before. But feeling free. Free to walk by the Spirit and not by our own pride, our own expectations, or our doubts and fears. Free to show the world how our God has abundantly provided and paved the way. Free to be blessed, to be a blessing.

Promises not made.

Leaving was a lot harder than I thought it would be.

God had given me so much strength and grace leading up to our departure that I thought I was in the clear. The excitement was building, the anticipation was rising, and we couldn't wait to get on that plane. I was golden. This was going to be easy.

And then it happened. Two days before actually leaving, I did a 180. Something in me flipped and all of a sudden I was fearful, doubting and reluctant to leave. Maybe the reality of what we were doing was setting in, maybe it was the really hard goodbyes to my family, maybe it was the evil one trying to attack. Either way, I found myself in a completely different state of mind.

I felt like a total hypocrite.

It was so easy for me to talk about giving up everything for the sake of the Gospel, but when I actually had to do it, I got cold feet. Way to go, me.

I remember sitting on the plane in Chicago, watching us pull away from the gate. Without even realizing it, I said under my breath, no, no, no! Steven must have heard me because he responded with a strong and excited, yes, yes, yes! He was obviously ready. Which left me wondering why I so suddenly wasn't.

We eventually made it out of Chicago and landed safely in San Francisco. However, my state of mind was still the same. I couldn't shake the idea that maybe we had just made the biggest mistake of our lives. I remember thinking that there was still time to turn back. Still time to call off this crazy endeavor. Still time to regain my sense of security and control.

But somehow, God got me on the next flight. And it felt so significant. This was our flight to Japan. The flight that would take me away from America and into a world of unknowns. In other words, this flight meant there was no turning back. We were on our way to Thailand whether I liked it or not. We were going to live our lives in Thailand where I liked it or not. We were going to do ministry in Thailand whether I liked it or not. We would be away from our family and friends for a long time whether I liked it or not.

And before I knew it, this taunting question kept replaying in my mind...

What if I just don't like it?

And with that, a wave of what if questions engulfed me. What if something happens to my grandparents while I'm gone? What if Leila doesn't remember me? What if I lose Steven? What if I have no friends in Thailand? What if I never learn the language? What if this ache in my heart from missing my family never goes away? What if we fail?

Somewhere in the midst of suffocating in my thoughts, I turned to Steven and just started bawling. I told him that I wanted to go back. I told him that we couldn't stay in Thailand, that this was stupid of us. I had changed my mind and wanted a normal life. Who did I think I was, anyway, trying to be a missionary? I should have seen this coming. Steven should have married a different girl--someone stronger and better suited for this hard stuff. I don't know how to quite explain it and I'm sure I sounded ridiculous to Steven, but there was this deep unrest and almost panic within me.

And so, I asked Steven to pray. Not because I really wanted him to or because I was seeking Jesus, but because it was the only thing I could think of that could stop all of it--the voices of doubt and fear that I was starting to believe. I needed the Spirit to calm my emotions and ground me in Truth.

And as Steven prayed, the Spirit did just that. God came over me and reminded me of one simple truth. A truth that I've heard before, done before, blogged about before, judged others on before, prayed against before.

I was clinging to promises not made.

God never promised me this would be easy. So when it's not, I shouldn't be surprised.

God never promised me that my grandparents would live forever. Moreso, I'm not even guaranteed tomorrow.

God never promised me the luxury of having family close by. In fact, He says, "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple" Luke 14:26. I was getting a sobering taste of the seriousness of Jesus' call.

God never promised me Steven for the rest of my life. Steven is a perfect gift from God that He has chosen to bless me with today.

God didn't promise me friends, He didn't promise me the gift of learning language, He didn't promise me success.

These are all promises He has never made me. Yet, I was holding them so near and dear. Ready to abandon God's calling at the thought of losing something I was never entitled to in the first place. Oh, how I continue to struggle with clinging so tightly to something that God has never promised. How often I hold lies as truth and then get mad at God when it doesn't pan out. And goodness, how patient God is with me as He teaches me this lesson over and over again. To recheck where I find my security and claim Him and His promises as the only solid rock on which I stand.

And so, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean I tried to, again, let go of these promises not made. I tried to let my mind, heart, and soul release these dreams I had made up for myself. To repent of putting words in God's mouth and believing them. And then, I tried to embrace and hold fast to the promises He has made me--for they are eternal, hope-giving, and abundantly gracious.

He is with me. Always. He is for me. Always. He is redeeming me. Always. He is near. Always. He is pouring out His love, grace, Spirit, power, presence, wisdom. Always. He is saving. Always. He is more than enough for me. Always. He is in control. Always. He has a plan, a good plan. Always. He is the Alpha and Omega, the One worthy of everything. Always. He is the Giver of eternal life and the Reason I lay down my false hopes. Today, tomorrow and always.