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 :)

16 things to my 16 year-old self.

Has anyone heard of this book yet?  It's a collection of letters from different people, from all different walks in life, writing letters to their 16 year-old selves.

Now, don't get me wrong.  I'm all about the sovereignty of God and I believe whole-heartedly that God has used each of my past experiences to bring me to where I am today... but... this book did get me thinking.

Knowing what I know now, what would I tell my immature-dramatic-naive-16 year-old self?  

And in no time at all, I found myself jotting down these 16 things to my 16 year-old self:

1.  It's not about you.  And it's all about Him.

2. I know you're more worried about what's going on in school right now than spending time with your family, but one day, you'll want nothing more than to be with them.  Cherish the moments you get to sit around the kitchen table laughing at your hilarious brothers, making fun of your corny dad and cooking with your mom.  

3.  Remember how you thought Naperville would always be home?  Well, you're wrong.  Start putting down roots in your relationship with the Lord.  He's the only place that you'll be able to consistently call home.  

4.  Forget Spanish.  (You'll forget it anyway.)  

5.  Believe it or not, farmers still exist.  And not all of them have to milk their own cows for milk.  They can go to the grocery store to buy food just like you do.  I know... shocking, right?  

5b. And as if that wasn't shocking enough, I thought I should let you know that you'll actually end up marrying one some day (a farmer, not a cow).  Take a deep breath.  It's okay.  He's actually pretty cute and treats you far better than you deserve.  And no, he doesn't wear overalls.  Give me some credit here!

6. When you go off to college, stay far far away from the self-serve ice cream machine.  In times of stress you think that it's your friend, but trust me.  It's not.

7.  God wants all of you, not just some of you.  So stop thinking that it's a sacrifice to give your hopes and dreams to Him.  Because whatever you give up, He gives back 10 fold.  It's actually the greatest investment you can make with your time, money and life.  

8.  Khun naa^ ja` rian phuut^ phaa-saa(v) thai dtoon nii/ phra waa^ khun ja` yuu thii^ bpra`-theet^ thai nai a-naa-khot/.  (You'll understand when you're older.)

9.  Who you go to the homecoming dance with really doesn't matter.  What does matter is how you treat and love others.  You're not very good at it now, but God will grow in you a love for people and their stories.  

10.  Don't waste time on boys.  You're not ready to get married and you shouldn't spend time thinking about it yet.  You'll change so much between then and now that it doesn't matter anyways.  Instead, spend more time with your girl friends.  

11.  When your heart is broken, don't be scared of it.  God sees it as one of his favorite times with you. He gets to hold and comfort you like never before--it's a sweet fellowship that will change the course of your life.

12.  Do not, I repeat, do not agree to coach the freshman cheerleading team your first year of teaching.  It will suck the joy (oddly enough) right out of you.

13.  Stop bleaching your hair.  It's not flattering.  

14.  When in college, stay as long as you can (change your major a few times, study abroad, fail a few classes...whatever you gotta do).  No real responsibilities + lots of free time + friends within a 2 mile radius = Some of the best years of your life!

15.  Your grandpa is still your favorite person in the world.  Cuddle with him more.

16.  One day, you'll wake up (with your blankies next to you, of course) in a strange land, next to a farmer, speaking a language you've never heard before, eating strange foods and wondering how in the world you got there.  Don't panic.  It's all evidence of God's goodness.

... So what about you, my friends?  Is there anything you'd like to tell your 16 year-old self?  As silly as this was, it served as a great reminder of the crazy, radical work God has done in my life.  It makes me excited to write the "27 things to my 27 year-old self" as I anticipate God maturing my walk with Him even more in the years to come.  Praise be to the One who pours out steadfast love throughout the ages!  

Unexpected thankfulness

Well, I can now officially say that I have "survived" my first real holiday away from home.

Phew!

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday to celebrate with my family.  The strange tradition of going bowling with about 100 other Asians (I'm convinced that the people working at the bowling ally at 8am on Thanksgiving morning either hate us or feel sorry for us because they assume we don't know it's Thanksgiving...), eating Chicago hotdogs and appetizers at Grandma's house, watching football and taking naps, stuffing ourselves with all the traditional Thanksgiving fixings (white rice included!) and then finishing the day off with a rousing game of BINGO and ridiculous prizes.  Ahh, I love it all.

So as the holiday season approached, I was quite anxious.  I had already admitted defeat and was fully expecting to be depressed, lonely and sad on Thanksgiving day.  (You people out there seriously need to pray for Steven... He's got one emotionally draining wife on his hands!)

But, to my surprise, being in Thailand and away from my beloved family and traditions wasn't nearly as hard as I anticipated it would be.  I often wonder when I'll stop being surprised by God's goodness and gentleness with me.  Last Thanksgiving, I remember sitting around the table with my whole family having just come back from our 6 weeks of training in Colorado.  My emotions were high and the anticipation of leaving was more than I could handle.  As it became my turn to share what I was thankful for that year, my throat closed up and I was left speechless. (I know, I was just as shocked as you are...)  So many feelings were going through my heart at that moment-- being incredibly thankful and humbled by the love and support from my family, yet at the same time feeling overwhelmingly scared.  Scared of what the future would look like without them and afraid my heart would only ache every holiday I was away.

Yet, as I sat at the table this Thanksgiving the fear of the unknown was gone and my heart was full.  And even though I didn't get to go bowling, play Bingo, watch football or cuddle up with my grandpa for a nap, it still felt like Thanksgiving.  The faces around the table were much different, but each one represented God's faithfulness to me.  In less than a year, I was celebrating Thanksgiving with new family and friends.  With new traditions, in a new language, making new memories.  It wasn't sad at all.

It was special.

And for that I am most thankful.

Setting up for our guests

Phew, that was a lot of cooking!  Turkey (bought from an American restaurant), stuffing, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, rolls, green bean casserole, cranberry jello, my mom's famous marble brownies and Pawn's pumpkin pie!

Our Thai friends had never seen a whole turkey before!  And they ended up looooving it!  (Now Stevo wants to start a turkey farm here... yikes.)  Oh and I must shamelessly praise Steven for the awesome job he did praying and explaining the history of Thanksgiving--all in THAI!  Way to go, babe!

Our guests :)

From left to right:

Joe (our neighbor), Pum (Joe's wife and my language helper), Alex (Joe & Pum's son), Pawn (our house-helper), Mind (Pawn's daughter), Boom (our Thai friend), Som (our Thai teacher), Chris (Som's boyfriend)

What a diverse group!

The women in my every day life.  So very thankful for them.

Thanksgiving celebration #2 with the Hambrice family the following day!

They truly are our family here in Thailand.  Don't know what we'd do without them!

Quite proud of our homemade feast

Praising God for new friends that have become very dear to us in such a short amount of time.  Praising God for the intimate way in which He has cared for our every need this year.  Praising God for the love poured out on us through people back at home.  Praising God that we get to serve Him in a place that so desperately needs Him.  And above all, praising God for choosing us--for allowing us to know Him as our mighty King, our humble Savior and our gracious Father.

Happy Thanksgiving!  

Love, 

The Sauders

happy bounciness

It's no secret that I usually blog when something's heavy on my heart. It's my way of crying out to God, processing my thoughts and finding an outlet for my many emotions.

But alas, I haven't blogged in over a month! And even though it was partially due to laziness, it was mostly because life's been pretty calm around these parts lately. And for that I am so very thankful. After the roller coaster ride of what was going on with my grandpa, God so graciously gave me a little breather. (insert contented sigh)

So here's to looking back on this month with a thankful heart, seeing all the ways God has given me bits of joy.  As a self-proclaimed "happy-bouncy-one", I'm about to give you a good dose of some happy bounciness :)  And while that may sound a bit annoying or overly dramatic, just trust me.  It's good for the soul.


This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

 of this guy.  

And yes, he always usually makes me happy.  (Sorry Stevo, had to be honest there. I mean there are just some times you makes me quite angry!)  But seriously, with each passing month, I really do fall deeper in love with this boy.  While he was away on a business trip to Bangkok last week, I gained a newfound appreciation for all that he does for me and all that he adds to my life.  So many times I wonder how I tricked him into marrying me.  He's seriously way too good for me.  Babe, you put the bounce in my bounciness.  (You can all imagine Steven rolling his eyes right about now, can't you?)

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

my mom and dad booked their tickets to Thailand!

If it was still acceptable to raise the roof, Stevo would definitely see me doing a little "raise the roof dance" all around the house.  Words cannot express how excited I am to have them here.  With the holidays approaching, there's been an ache in my heart to be home...to which I will not expand upon because this is not the time nor place!  So, when my parents decided to go ahead and book their tickets to come for the first 2 weeks in February, I was ecstatic!  Knowing I'll see them a month after Christmas makes spending the holidays away from family a bit more bearable.  I am so, so, so thankful that they are making the effort to travel all this way to spend some time with us.  Seeing their itinerary arrive in my email was definitely a happy moment for this girl.

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

so many random people have sent encouragement our way.

Even as I'm writing this, two childhood friends just sent me facebook messages.  People I haven't seen or talked to in ages, just writing to say that they've been thinking and praying for Steven and I.  I'm blown away.  My best friend from high school, taking the time to write me a hand written note and send me a picture of her adorable baby.  It made my day.  Friends from home that are always making an effort to Skype with us, send us care packages and find unique ways to love us.  It makes us feel pursued and not forgotten.  My brother sending me videos of Leila, along with random ones of him singing to himself in the car.  A little weird, but they're always a  guaranteed laugh.  Most people don't take the time to keep in touch or send a little note when they're thinking of someone.  So to be overwhelmed with little reminders of people's love is so appreciated and life-giving.  Thanks friends.

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

I've gotten to cook, laugh and hang out with Pawn and her daughter.

With Thai school being on a break, Pawn has brought her daughter, Mind, with her to work.  And boy, is she cute.  Just look at that face!  Mind has always been incredibly shy with us, but I think we've made some good progress this month.  We went out for a pizza dinner, cooked together and had a few good laughs with one another.  Just a couple days ago, we were both sitting on the counter stirring cookie dough talking about how much we love chocolate.  I savored the moment and thanked God for His sweet blessing.

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

we've been spending time out here.

Steven and I have been able to take advantage of our cute little porch!  We bought the table and chairs at a garage sale awhile back, but it's been too hot to sit out there.  Until... this past month where the weather has finally begun to cool down and the nights always bring a light breeze  :)  This is quickly becoming my favorite spot in our home.  Thank you Lord for the cooler weather, a shady nook to sit and read, and the perfect place for a quiet dinner.

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

these guys just applied with GEI.

Yes, those are two of our best friends.  And yes, they are praying about joining our team and coming to Thailand. (!!!!)  I have been telling myself for the last couple of months not to get my hopes up, but who am I kidding?  My hopes are way up.  It's always been a dream of Steven's to keep working along side his best friend, Brett, and from the moment I met Liv I knew we were two peas in a pod.  What a blessing it would be to have them here.  But regardless of whether or not they decide to come to Thailand, it has been a joy watching them grow, pray and take leaps of faith this past month.  Seeing them humbly and openly walk by faith inspires us to do the same.  And while it's no secret that we want them here with us, we (yes even Stevo's included on this one) are just excited to be a part of the journey and see where God leads them.

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

Uuai Pawn Bakery is officially up and running.

This month marks our second month of delivering bagels around Chiang Mai.  Pawn has not only been busy with many orders each week, but we now have an original logo, flyer and business card!  (Thanks to a friend of Steven's who did all the design work for us for free!)  It's been really fun to see Pawn take ownership of the business.  She's buying all the ingredients, learning how to keep a ledger, putting money aside to expand the business and delivering the bagels on her own.  We're so proud of her.

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

we celebrated 6 months of learning Thai full-time.

It may not seem like a long time, but wow.  It's a big accomplishment for the Sauders.  I think Steven would say learning Thai has been one of the most challenging things he's ever had to do.  I am so proud of his determination and how he never complains about all the studying.  It's been interesting watching him grow through this process.  He's one of the most capable and talented people I know, so to watch him stumble around and have to trust God in a new way has been remarkable.  And while we still have a looooong way to go, we are encouraged by the great progress we have made.  All glory to God!

This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

Grandpa's home!

Just last week, Grandpa was released from the hospital and rehab center.  I really can't believe it.  Last month the doctors were breaking the news to my grandma that he would probably never live at home again.  And now, he's home!  It's a miracle really.  There's not much to say other than I am really thankful and proud of both him and my grandma.  My grandpa has fought hard to get better and my grandma has patiently and lovingly been his encourager.  It's been a hard, stressful, and rocky couple of months but they continue to fight to support and love one another.  I'm so blessed to know them.

And last but not least...
This month, I've been happy bouncy because...

Doug did this.

Which makes me officially, without a doubt, the better looking one.  Enough said.

too cool not to share

Our good friends just got back from John Piper's Missions Conference last weekend.  And as they were there, Steven and I tried watching the live videos along with them.  (The time difference made it difficult to do this, but we managed to hear and watch some pretty amazing sermons.  If you're interested in viewing any, click here.  I'm still amazed that we can be in Thailand, but also "sit in" on a conference in Minnesota.  Amazing!)

Anyway, our friends told us that we just had to watch the talk by opening speaker, Louie Giglio.  It was their favorite session of the conference, exposing them to new phenomenas that radically expanded their view of God.

I was excited.

And you should be too.

Because after watching it last night, we knew our friends were right.

It is awesome.

I don't want to give too much away.  My words will just take away from the power and beauty of it all.  So, I'll just leave it at that.  If you have ten minutes (which I know you all do), do yourself a favor and watch this part of his talk.  It'll rock your world.  And your too small view of the great, BIG God we serve.

Psalm 148

Praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord from the heavens;

     praise him in the heights!

Praise him, all his angels;

     praise him, all his hosts!

Praise him, sun and moon,

     praise him, all you shining stars!

Praise him, you highest heavens,

     and you waters above the heavens!

Let them praise the name of the Lord!

     For he commanded and they were created.

And he established them forever and ever; 

     he gave a decree, and it shall not pass away.

Praise the Lord from the earth,

     you great sea creatures and all deeps,

fire and hail, snow, and mist,

     stormy wind fulfilling his word!

Mountains and all hills,

     fruit trees and all cedars!

Beasts and all livestock,

     creeping things and flying birds!

Kings of the earth and all peoples,

     princes and all rulers of the earth!

Young men and maidens together,

     old men and children!

Let them praise the name of the Lord,

     for his name alone is exalted;

     his majesty is above earth and heaven.

He has raised up a horn for his people,

     praise for all his saints,

     for the people of Israel who are near to him.

Praise the Lord!

This global God is worthy to be praised, amen?  May we make it our life ambition to join in this universal song of praise with all nature, all creatures and all peoples for the glory and adoration of our King!  

Caught between two worlds.

The other night we went out to dinner with some new friends.  It felt normal, natural and easy.  And I was so grateful.  I remember coming home and bouncing up to Steven saying, "We have friends and it feels so good!"  And even though it only happened a couple of days ago, I think I'll remember the moment and feeling for a long while.  For it was a sweet reminder and confidence builder that our lives are beginning to take root here.  That night I went to bed content and satisfied with the feeling of  I want to stay here peacefully overwhelming me.

But the feeling didn't last long.  The next morning I woke up to a painful phone call with my mom.  With my grandpa being in and out of the hospital many times since I've been gone, my mom and I have had to have some pretty serious conversations about him.  And to be honest, I was beginning to become numb to the news that my "grandpa is back in the hospital".  While a couple of years ago hearing that would have been devastating, it was now a quiet expectation whenever I talked with my mom.  But this conversation was different.  Yes grandpa was back in the hospital, but this time I could hear the hopelessness in my mom's voice.  I sat there silently as she explained that there were many things going wrong in my grandpa's body.  Possible stroke, bleeding in the brain, liver problems, heart problems, the list went on.  As big tears began to drop down my face, I tried to settle my voice as I asked, "Well, what does this mean?"  And as soon as I said the words, I knew what her response would be.  For it was something I have dreaded hearing my entire life because my relationship with my grandpa has always run deep and strong.  "It means, Lauren, that grandpa's dying."   And all of a sudden, the feeling of I want to stay here from the previous night was no where to be found.  Instead, it was replaced with a deep longing of I want to go back.

And so, yesterday I cried.  A lot.  Not only for the news of my grandpa's declining health, but for feeling so far away and not knowing what to do about it.  Should I go home to say goodbye?  Or should I just stay in Thailand?  Should I go alone or should Steven come too?  Can we afford it?  Does money matter?  What would grandpa want?  What do I need?  What will other people think?  And because I'm a pretty black and white thinker, I'm not used to this feeling.  The feeling of being unsure.  The feeling of being so conflicted.  So caught between two worlds.  

I always thought I'd go back if my grandpa died.  When people asked us before we left whether or not we'd come back within our 3 year commitment, I always replied with a "We're not planning on it.  Unless, of course, my grandpa dies or if Kelsey or Doug gets married."  I guess those were the non-negotiables in my mind and heart.  It seems unfair that I would only want to come back for my grandpa, but there is just something so very special about my relationship with him.  I don't know why, but he has always had my heart.  Maybe it's his sweet and endearing personality.  Maybe it's his quiet yet strong presence.  Maybe it's the comfort I feel when I get to cuddle up next to him.  Maybe it's how tenderly he has loved me.  It's an unexplainable relationship, yet anyone who knows me well understands it.  When I think about my grandpa and our deep love for each other, I want to go back.

But things are just starting to pick up here.  We are finally starting to feel like we are making progress with language.  Longer conversations are taking place.  Deeper relationships are being developed.  We just started helping our maebon (house-helper) open a small bagel business.  And as our lives are becoming more settled, my desire to go home lessens.  Right now I feel happy and content with my life here in Thailand.  I don't doubt this is where we should be.  But what if going home makes me question all that?  And do I really want to say my goodbyes all over again?  Getting on that plane was hard enough to do once, would I have the strength to do it again?  To go home and then come back again seems too hard.  And when I'm honest about those fears and what they could mean, all I want to do is stay here.  

But then I'll ask other missionaries.  What would you do?  What have you done?  And surprisingly, all of them have told me to go home.  And to take Steven with me.  That location doesn't matter, but family does.  That this is the perfect time to go.  We don't have kids to think about, Steven isn't in the heat of starting the business yet, we are ahead in language learning and can afford the time off.  When we suggested that I just go home by myself, they encouraged us to both go.  With this being the first time either of us will have lost anyone close to us, it will be healthy to go through it together.  They said it will make our marriage stronger and our calling as a couple deeper.  When I hear their responses and the freedom that comes with it, I want to go back.

But it feels so weak.  To be going back after just 7 months on the field.  It feels less "godly", less "sacrificial", less "missionary".  We knew this was part of the calling.  When we moved our lives half way around the world and said our goodbyes, we knew there would be sacrifices and we said we were ready to make them.  So when I feel a deep longing to go back, my head tells me that I'll be a failure if I do.  That people will look at me like I'm not cut out to be a missionary.  That I'm not tough enough.  That I took on this big endeavor without ever counting the cost.  Did I think we wouldn't miss out on things being in Thailand?  Life is inevitably going to continue on without us--people we love will die, friends will get married, holidays will be celebrated, babies will be born.  I can't expect to go back every time something significant happens.  Our lives are in Thailand now.  Our lives aren't in the States anymore and I need to let go of thinking that.  When faced with this truth,  I want to stay.

But what if I regret it.  Our friends that have gone home for loved ones have never regretted it.  They've never regretted being able to grieve with family.  They've never regretted having time to say goodbye.  They've never regretted the tender memories that have come with the decision to go back.  And so, I know that I would never regret seeing my grandpa one last time.  I will never regret being able to tell him what I know about heaven and watch him prepare to meet His King.  I know that I will never regret being able to share my hope in Jesus and the new life we can all have in Him.  Going home means no regrets.  And if that's the case, I want to go back.

But we live on support.  And even though we are only accountable to God, I can't help but shake the feeling that we are also accountable to our supporters.  It's the most humbling feeling knowing that people are sacrificially giving to us so that we can be here.  It's something you can only understand once you've actually done it.  People back at home are making sacrifices for us, shouldn't I, then, make sacrifices for them?  If we use support money to fly back home, I'm afraid it will seem as though we are being careless.  That we don't appreciate all that has been given to us, that we are taking advantage of people's generosity.  And the thought of that makes me want to say, "Okay, I will stay".

But this is my grandpa.  And that's what I keep coming back to.  And maybe it's just an excuse I'm choosing to believe, but this situation is different.  Because it's my grandpa.  My heart just breaks knowing that I'm going to lose him soon.  My heart breaks hearing how my aunt walked through the door and my grandpa mistakingly said, "Hi Lauren".  My chest physically hurts from the reality we are facing and the fact that I am not there.  I can't even write this without taking breaks to go weep in Steven's arms.  This is hard.  Not because I haven't counted the cost.  Not because I am starting to love our life in Thailand.  And not because I have mixed feelings about going or staying.  But because this is my grandpa and my heart feels weaker without him.  

And so, here I am.  Caught between two worlds asking God for help.  Knowing He will and trusting in His timing and love for me.

*Update: For now, grandpa is stable and feeling very loved by all the people who have gone to see him.  I was able to skype with him tonight and he told me in his sweet, low voice that he was "going to try very hard to get better".  I am thankful.  Thankful to hear a small sense of hope, but also thankful for the extended time God seems to be giving him, my family and me.  What a sweet blessing.  With his health being so unpredictable, I am taking comfort in the fact that God holds the world in His hands and is ultimately the One in control.  Praise Him.