lessons learn(ing).

Definitely not lessons learned. For I'm afraid I am a forever messy, complicated work in progress. But, really, aren't we all?

(Someone please say yes.)

No, these are most certainly not lessons I've already achieved, overcome and moved on from. They are simply little tidbits into this ongoing process of life overseas, as a sinner saved by grace, who continually stumbles, falls, laughs quite a bit at herself and then, by the grace of God, starts again.

These are my lessons learn(ing).

I am learning patience. Everyone who knows me is now saying to themselves, "Thank you, God!" It's no secret that patience is something I often lack. (It's my mother's fault, really.) I hate waiting, I hate traffic, I hate lines. I hate how I still don't know Thai (shouldn't 2 months of studying do the trick?), I hate how we ordered a desk 3 months ago and it still isn't finished, and I hate that mail takes 2 to 3 weeks to get here. But alas, I am learning. And I am learning that being in a hurry doesn't make things go faster and it doesn't necessarily make life more productive. Impatience simply breeds anxiety, fear, discouragement and failure. Patience creates peace, grace, confidence and faith. I am, and forever will be, learning patience.

I am learning that I still don't like vegetables. It's a lost cause, really. I came to Thailand with an open mind, to try new things, and to start liking vegetables. However, the hatred still remains. And I think our lunch guy at the market is starting to get the hint. Every day I return my plate to him with all the vegetables pushed to the side. Slowly but surely, he has put less and less veggies in my stir fry. Bless his heart. I love that he is learning that I still don't like vegetables.

I am learning how to be a 3 year old again. With knowing around 1,000 Thai words, my speech pathologist friend told me that I have now advanced to talking like a 3 year old. Woohoo. I am really starting to feel for all the 3 year old's out there. You want so badly to be able to communicate, yet the words just aren't there. And even when you do venture out and use the few words that you know, people just laugh and think it's "cute". Did I say the wrong word? Is my accent incomprehensible? Or are you just mean-spirited? Steven and I have succumbed to a lot of hand motions and simple statements. "I want the red cup." "I like bread." "I am from America. Yes, I know I look Thai, but I am Japanese...well, I don't speak Japanese and no, my grandparents have never lived in Japan...but I do speak Spanish...and English...and now I am learning Thai." Okay, so maybe we are doing a little better than I give ourselves credit for, but nevertheless, I am learning how to redefine my definition of communication.

I am learning how to be a team player. Our marriage has never felt like more of a team effort than it does now. We do everything together. Eat, go to class, study, ride the motorcycle, run errands, go on dates, watch TV, read, etc. We've spent more time together in these last 4 months than we have in our entire marriage previous to Thailand. And while sometimes we start picking at each other like brother and sister, for the most part, our marriage has never been better. There's something about working together towards a common goal that has uniquely united us. It takes the will out of fighting against one another and pushes us towards grace and encouragement. If I fail, we fail. If Steven has a good day, we have a good day. I have loved learning how to be one with my husband.

I am learning how to do nothing. Maybe the hardest lesson of them all. But there have been days where I have been depressed from the lack of activity and interaction in my life. As someone who prided herself on being busy and social, this whole "studying language all day" approach has really challenged me. Throw in the fact that we are living on support for the first time and the self induced pressure to be doing something worthwhile. It's a recipe for a major identity crisis. I am having to remind myself daily that it is not what I do that makes me valuable. It is who I am and who I belong to. My worth is in knowing Jesus Christ and being known by Him. Nothing more, nothing less. And somewhere in the midst of all this, I know that studying hard and taking time to learn Thai is God-honoring, God-exalting, Kingdom work. It just doesn't feel and look so glamorous to the me or the outside world. I am learning how to live for an Audience of One.

I am learning that I am not a Superhero. Crossing the ocean and calling myself a missionary has not given me any special powers. (And as funny as that sounds, I kind of thought it would...) But to my dismay, my flesh still remains. I still struggle with spending time in the Word every day. I still get impatient, snippy, and prideful. I still find myself reaching for the American dream. I still have a hard time trusting God. I still want control, I still miss home, and I still can't believe I am in Thailand. I am no more godly just because I am here. I am still me, with all my imperfections, just trying to live out the Gospel in a different place. I am learning that it's not my title change that changes who I am.

It's allowing God to keep teaching me the lessons He wants me to be learning.

for my momma.

I have always been attached to my mother.

Steven often wonders when this attachment will lessen--as he can only hope that one day I'll stop sleeping with her old, torn up t-shirt. Yes, I'm talking about my blankie. And yes, I brought them to Thailand and they are currently on my bed.

Stop judging.

Anyway. When I was a little girl, I remember never wanting to leave my mother's side. I would cry every day when she would leave me at this awful daycare--they would make me eat all my vegetables before I could have my "free time". It was such abuse, really. I'm convinced that's why I still cannot eat vegetables to this very day. I remember being frightened of the idea of spending the night over at a friend's house, for that would mean a night away from my momma. I would follow her around everywhere. Help her cook in the kitchen, run errands all around town, cheer my brothers on at whatever sport they were currently playing. To me, it didn't matter what I was doing. As long as my mom was right there, by my side, the world, my world, was just as it should be.

My mother has always been my safe haven.

When I was a teenager, I would tell my mother everything. We had a relationship that mirrored Gilmore Girls. I could tell her anything and she had this miraculous ability to then feel whatever I was feeling. If I was excited, she was excited. If I was sad, she was sad. My joys were her joys. My sorrows, her sorrows. I remember crying in bed one night to her when a boy I liked hurt my feelings. She just held me, reassured me and cried with me. As I look back at my teenage-dramatic filled years, I am sure my "problems" seemed so silly to her. What boy to go with to the dance, what friend was being mean to me, what outfit I should wear on my first date. And as silly and unimportant as those things really were, my mom always made me feel understood and valid. She never made me feel stupid, but built me up and cared for me. My confidence was born here--from her support and unconditional love.

My mother has always been my confidant and my best friend.

When I grew up and into adulthood, my mother continued to teach me. She taught me how to serve others well. For example, when I lived at home the year I was engaged, I would have to leave the house at 5 in the morning to make it to work ahead of the traffic. Every morning, without fail, my mom would wake up with me, cook me a warm breakfast and pack my lunch. (Seriously, who does that?) She has always done things like that for her kids--selflessly giving of herself to make our lives easier, better, happier. My mother has shown me what a good marriage looks like--to love someone unconditionally and whole-heartedly and to have fun doing it. My parents still hold hands, still cuddle, still banter flirtatiously and still are the best of friends. My mother has continually challenged me to not see everything so black and white. She has become a strong voice of reason when I can't see the other side of things. She is my truth teller, exposing hard and sinful things in my life and not being afraid to do so. I have loved watching my mom and following her lead as a strong woman.

My mother has always been my example.

And when I moved to Thailand, my mother let me go. And I don't mean it in the physical sense of letting me leave. I mean it in the most heart wrenching, faith building, utter dependence on God kind of way. I know full well that this is not her first choice for me. I know she'd rather have me close to home where we would watch tv together, cook dinner together, and do life together. I know she doesn't want her grandbabies an ocean away. And I know that the thought of me staying in Thailand longer than 3 years makes her heart hurt. But despite these things, she still let me go, realizing what many mother's never realize. That I am not her child, but that I am God's child first. And if I am God's, then He will know how to take care of me even better than she. That He, in His perfect love, will be my safe haven. My confidant. My best friend. My example.

When I moved to Thailand and my mother let me go, I have never felt more loved by her in my entire life.

And when I become a mom someday, Lord willing, this is the single thing that I will fight to hold on to. That my child is not my own, but God's. And in order to love them they way they deserve to be loved, means giving them back to God.

I am so very grateful for my mom. And I am so very proud of us. I am proud of us for always being open with each other and having such a solid relationship. I am proud of us for working through hard situations and extending forgiveness and grace. And I am proud of us for letting each other go. For as hard as it was for her, it was just as hard for me. This scared, attached little girl has branched out to a world of unknowns. And while it is my love for the Lord that drives me, it is her support and life-long training that sustains me.

Proverbs 31:28-29

Her children rise up and call her blessed;

her husband also, and he praises her;

"Many women have done excellently,

but you surpass them all"

So here's to you, Momma, for you truly do surpass them all.