eyes like his.

Well, I am happy to report that Pawn did decide to go through with the surgery.  Praise God!

After she had originally told us no, Steven made a trip to see the doctor again.  He wanted to know what our options were and exactly what the outcome would be if she didn't have the surgery.  Just as we thought, the doctor told us again that Pawn would most likely never walk normally and that her life and lifestyle would be drastically different.

So we prayed.  For wisdom and leading in how God wanted to use us, for the ability to communicate at a heart level (something very new to us in Thai),  and for Pawn's heart to not be fearful and discouraged, but open and willing to walk by faith.

That afternoon we felt the Spirit give us freedom to pursue Pawn once more, so we made our way over to her small block home.  (which calls for a blog all it's own... we had never seen her home before and my heart broke seeing the stark contrast of the way she lives to the way we live.  having seen poverty numerous times before through mission trips and living abroad, there is just something different that resonates in your heart when you personally know and love the people living in it.  it changes things.)  Anyway, as we sat down with Pawn we simply asked her to reconsider.  We told her we weren't there to force her to change her mind, but were praying and hoping she would.  We told her that we cared about her future--that she would be able to work and provide for her family, to run and play with her daughter, to live a life without constant pain or disablement.  We reassured her that the surgery wasn't too expensive--that it would be our joy to help her and that she was worth more than any sum of money.  And we tried, in our very broken Thai, to make her see the Gospel.  To see that God continually gives us free gifts, that He has already paid all our debts, and that He has blessed us to be a blessing.

Miraculously, through all our mumble jumble, Pawn seemed to understand.  I'm sure she understood our facial expressions and look of concern much more than our attempts to explain our hearts in Thai, but nevertheless, Pawn grasped enough to change her mind.  After all was said and done, she told us she would move forward with surgery.  (Now that deserves a big "hallelujah, thank you Jesus, amen!" interjection, don't you think?  Looking back, I actually think those were the exact words I exclaimed to myself when she said yes.)

The following day we took Pawn in for surgery.  We got to the hospital at 10 am, they took her for surgery at 2:30 pm, and she didn't return until 8:30 pm.  It was a long day of waiting.  When they finally rolled Pawn back into the room, I wasn't expecting to see her awake.  In America, when the patient comes out of surgery, they are usually still "out of it" and not feeling much of anything.  Well... not in Thailand.  Pawn was wide awake moaning and crying, the pain on her face overwhelming.

It caught me so off guard.

Standing there in shock, Kristi (our team leader's wife) and I immediately started crying.  I felt absolutely horrible seeing Pawn in so much pain and felt this deep sense of guilt for encouraging her to have the surgery.  Doubts started popping through my head... Should we not have done this?  Is Pawn going to hate us for letting her go through all this suffering?  Will she understand that this is for the better?

And there again, at a time I least expected, God reminded me of His love.

Like He spoke to me before, we are all just like Pawn.  When we accept His free gift of love and grace, it doesn't mean we accept an easier life.  A better, more fulfilling, eternally significant life?  Yes.  But easier? No way.  There are times where God allows, encourages and ordains pain in our lives.  Not because He wants to punish us, but because He knows the sanctification process will ultimately be for our good.  Pruning hurts, but it always produces more fruit.  Pawn was in pain today, but I knew that tomorrow she'd be on the road to recovery and renewal.

What spoke to me even more was seeing this image, this picture of truth that God hurts with us.  That even though God puts pain in our lives, it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt Him too.  I think it hurts Him more than we know.  I think when we're weeping, He is weeping right along side of us.  Most of the time though, I view God as this insensitive, distant, and cruel master pointing His finger at me from heaven telling me "I told you so".  But seeing Pawn in pain and then feeling a strong, painful ache inside my heart, allowed me to see that we have a God who sympathizes with us.  That He is a loving, comforting, tender-hearted Father who hurts when we hurt and hates seeing His children in pain.

Sympathizing with Pawn, in that dark hospital room in the middle of Thailand, felt like I was almost seeing through the eyes of God.  In that moment, the tangible image of God's deep compassion, concern and care for us was so real it took my breath away.

The day before, God had shown me what it felt like to have a heart like His.

Today?  Today he showed me what it looks like to have eyes likes His.


**As I post this, a couple days have passed and Pawn is out of the hospital and resting at home :)  Below are a couple of pictures I took after her surgery...

The x-ray post-surgery!

Go ahead and count em... 6 screws, 3 pins and 1 metal plate.

The doctor also tried to stitch her MCL & ACL back together, but we won't know how those will heal until much later.  After seeing everything, we definitely know Pawn wouldn't have been able to walk again without having surgery.  We are so incredibly thankful that that is no longer a concern!

A different angle

Her beautiful scars :)

(She was definitely freaked out seeing the staples in her leg!)

All wrapped up and ready to go home!

(One the lefthand side is Pawn's mom--it was really fun to get to meet a lot of Pawn's family through this experience)

Steven and I just want to thank you for all your prayers for Pawn these past couple of weeks.  Every time we told Pawn that people were praying for her, she would smile and say: "Khoop khun maak kha"!  (Thank you so much!)  She will have a long 2 months in this cast with no walking whatsoever and then months of physical therapy.  Our prayer is that her bones and ligaments would heal together well and that God would spare her from a second surgery.  Again, we are so thankful for your love and support for us and Pawn.  We are blessed!

a heart like his.

One of my silent fears in coming to Thailand was whether or not I would like the people. I know it sounds shallow, but it was the looming question in my heart as we boarded the plane.  As I wept for all the ones we were leaving behind, I naturally wondered if I would ever shed tears for the Thai people.  It was something I couldn't imagine at the time--having relationships deep enough with people I had never met and probably had nothing in common with.  And so, as we left Chicago, I prayed that God would grow in me a love for the people.  That even though I didn't know them yet, God did.  And He found them precious.  Valuable.  Worthy of His Son's life.  With little faith, I asked God to give me a heart like His--one that loved and broke for the Thais.

God has answered my prayer.

God put Pawn in our lives.

As many of you know, Pawn is our "maebon" and the one we have helped to start a bagel business.  Originally our house-helper, she has quickly become my cooking companion, language helper, business partner and friend.  Every Tuesday and Thursday I get excited because Pawn is "coming over!"  This means that I get to cook, talk and hang out with Pawn all day.  She teaches me how to cook panang chicken, I teach her my favorite cookie recipe.  She tells me about her family, I tell her about mine.  She asks me the difference between yellow and white cheese, I ask her the difference between the words "mai^" and "mai`".  I love it.  All of it.  To Steven and I, Pawn has become like family.

Two and a half weeks ago, Pawn got in a moped accident.  She was at home in her mom's village over New Years Eve when she lost control of her bike and fell.  She called us from the hospital, pretty groggy, only to tell us that she couldn't come to work the next day.  Our understanding was that she was okay, but something pretty bad had happened to her knee.  As I got off the phone with her, a rush of emotions overcame me.  Worry--how badly is she hurt?  Sadness--how will she recover?  Thankfulness--it could have been worse.  Frustration--I need to speak better Thai!  I unexpectedly found myself crying to Steven about all these things.  Little did I know that this was only the beginning.  God was about to show me just how deeply He had answered my prayer.

Pawn eventually got transferred to a government hospital back in Chiang Mai.  The hospital in her mom's village said they couldn't take care of her needs, so she was brought back here.  In Thailand, they have socialized healthcare called the "30 baht program".  You basically pay 30 baht ($1) per visit to have all your medical needs taken care of.  We went to go see Pawn multiple times while she was in the hospital and began to worry she wasn't getting the best care.   Throughout the 10 days that she was there, she only saw the doctor a couple of times.  All the doctor told her was that she had hurt her knee badly (obviously) and needed physical therapy.  She laid in the hospital bed all day, except for the 20 minutes they took her to do electric shock therapy.  Eventually Pawn told the doctor that she was bored and wanted to go home.  So, not to our surprise, they released her.

Because she still couldn’t move her leg or put any weight on it, we sensed there was something more going on with her knee.  We asked Pawn if we could take her to a different doctor and she agreed.  We took her to a private and highly recommended orthopedic specialist and within 5 minutes he concluded that she had at least a torn MCL and ACL.   He told us that he needed an MRI and an X-ray to know more, so we went that night to have it done.  The following day, the doctor told us that not only did Pawn have a torn MCL and ACL, but also a torn PCL and a broken bone.  (What?)  A part of her joint bone had broken off and was "floating" in the back of her leg.  Not to mention he thought there was another fracture, but couldn't be 100% sure from the MRI.  His recommendation was for her to have surgery immediately.  He voiced concern that it had already been two weeks since the accident and the longer we wait, the harder it would be to repair.  He would do surgery to fix the bone (and possible fractures) while also seeing if he could repair the torn MCL.  After surgery, Pawn would need to be in hard cast for at least a month and then possibly have another surgery to repair the ACL and PCL.  To sum it all up, her knee was destroyed and the road ahead would be long.

So, he explained all of this to Pawn and we scheduled the surgery to happen in two days.  I could tell by the look on Pawn's face that she was scared and doubtful.  Why wouldn't she be?  No one that she knows has ever had major surgery and the other doctor told her that she could go home and everything would be fine.  We figured that her previous doctor probably knew how badly her knee was hurt, but either couldn't perform the surgery or thought it would cost too much for a person on the "30 baht program".  But how could we really explain that to her?  We also knew that if she didn't have this surgery, she would probably not walk normally again.  The doctor said she'd always walk with a limp, always have pain, and definitely have arthritis.  To not have surgery was not really an option.

Knowing the gravity of the situation, we tried to tell Pawn not to worry.  We told her that we would take care of all of the expenses.  That the surgery wouldn’t be that scary.  That we were committed to walk through this journey with her.

However, the following morning I got a call from a friend telling me that Pawn had to decided to decline the surgery.  Our friend tried to explain to Pawn again why the surgery was a good idea, but Pawn seemed to have her mind made up.  Too expensive.  Too scary.  Too many unknowns.  As I hung up the phone, I ran to Steven and cried once again.  No surgery would mean so many things.  I cried at the thought of Pawn never walking again.  I cried thinking of her not being able to work and what that would mean for her and her daughter.  I cried knowing how confusing this all must be for her.  I cried from feeling helpless, wanting to make the decision for her, yet realizing we couldn’t.  And I cried, mostly because she was declining our free gift that we so desperately wanted to give her.

As I sat there journaling and praying about what to do next, God sweetly reminded me of the Gospel.  Suddenly, I saw so many parallels of what was happening with Pawn to what happens with mankind every day.  Here was Pawn--someone we have grown to love so much, so deeply--lying helplessly broken and in need of fixing.  Wanting to do it on her own, yet knowing she couldn’t.  And there was Steven and I--knowing her healing would come through surgery--just wanting to bless Pawn by offering to pay for it all.

I was getting a small, tiny glimpse into how God must feel every day.

Because the reality is, we are all broken.  We are all limping around in need of healing, trying our best to fix ourselves.  And we have this God--a God who passionately and perfectly loves us-- who cries over our brokenness and offers freely the gift of new life.

The tears I shed for Pawn suddenly seemed to pale in comparison to the tears I am sure God sheds for us.  How his heart must break when the people He loves reject His love and grace.  How He must weep watching people turn to their own destructive ways, knowing He is the only one who can sufficiently heal their wounds.  How badly He must want us to accept His gift, for only He knows how much was truly sacrificed.  And all of a sudden, my heart was weeping with God’s.  Not just for Pawn, but for the broken world we live in.  For all the people in Thailand who have never heard that “the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23).  

It was in that moment that I knew God had answered my prayer.

I originally came to Thailand because I knew God loved the Thai people.  But now I know, that somewhere in the midst of this year, God has allowed my heart to love and break for the Thai people as well.  To see them as He sees them, wanting nothing more than to see them free of bondage, running boldly to His throne of grace.  They aren’t strangers anymore.  No longer just another "people group” or statistic I read about in missions books.  Now they have faces and stories.  They're real people with a real need for Jesus.

Amidst all that has been going on with Pawn, I praise God for using her and this situation to show me that my silent fear never came to be.  For He has provided for me once again in giving me deep and genuine relationships with people I never imagined would mean so much to me.  And through that, all glory to God, my heart has grown to be more like His.

*I plan to write another blog about the rest of what's been going on with Pawn, but for now I wanted to just pause and praise God for the work He's been doing in our hearts :)