culture shock.

I have been crucified with Christ.

It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who now lives within me.

The life I live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God.

Because the Son of God loved me.

And He gave Himself for me.

They say culture shock is supposed to be hitting around this time. The honeymoon stage should be coming to a close and the daily nuances of living in another culture ought to be settling in. All of a sudden, the people, the food, the language are no longer fun and entertaining. They're draining.

We were warned about this stage. We knew it would eventually happen and we were prepared to handle it and "ride it out". However, the culture shock still has taken me by surprise. Not because I wasn't ready for it, but because it showed its face in an unexpected way.

You see, I am still loving the people. The politeness, gentleness, friendliness, and helpfulness of the Thais is something I hope to never take for granted. It's something I hope to learn from.

I still love the food. The fact that we can get a delicious meal for only $1 still amazes me. Besides the coagulated blood soup and fried insects, Thailand has some of the best food in the world.

And believe it or not, I am still loving the language. Even though the word "mai" means mile, new, no, right, and silk. Yes, it can be frustrating at times, but I am still enjoying the process and the challenge.

No, it's not the people, the food or the language that is causing this culture shock.

It's the location.

I miss home.

It's a weird feeling, really. To be so content and at peace in one place, yet still be longing to be in another. Since leaving home, a lot of big things have happened. Friends have gotten engaged, family members are moving, weddings are being celebrated, loved ones are having babies. Life is continuing on. And we're not a part of it.

I hate that.

And somewhere in the midst of this unexpected culture shock, my heart has grown bitter. At random times throughout the day, I have found myself thinking thoughts like...

Why do some people get to live in the same town as their entire family and I don't?

Why do some people get to have coffee with their best friends every week and I can't?

Why do all our friends get to start their families now and we need to wait?

Why are some never drawn to serve God overseas and we are?

It doesn't seem fair, God...

Without even realizing it, I have found myself wishing for someone else's life. Someone else's circumstances. Someone else's calling. In other words, I caught myself thinking our time here was a curse rather than a blessing. I started measuring my life based on earthly treasures rather than heavenly ones. I was falling in love with my own plans again rather than being hopelessly devoted to God's.

Maybe God's plan wasn't worth my everything. Maybe I could please God and my flesh at the same time. Maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to be crucified with Christ.

But here I am. On Good Friday. Pondering what this day really means. Pondering the crucifixion of Christ and its eternal weight. Pondering the fact that my sinful soul is counted free because the sinless Savior died. Pondering the unmatched call and will of Jesus Christ and wondering if He ever told God that "this doesn't seem fair".

Somehow I don't think He did.

Despite His pain and suffering on this day, somehow I don't think He was whining to God like I have been. I think He knew the will of His Father and saw it not as a curse, but as a gift.

The gift to do what God had purposed for Him and to do it with faith and obedience. The gift to be used by God for the sake of others.

The gift to offer Himself as a living, perfect, and holy sacrifice.

Jesus' life and death and resurrection. What a gift.

Our life, our death to flesh, our resurrection for the glory of God. It's a gift, too.

So on this day, I am challenging myself to shock myself out of this culture shock. To stop believing that this far away journey is a curse and, instead, embrace it as a sweet and gracious gift.

...For I have been crucified with Christ.

It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who now lives within me.

The life I live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God.

Because the Son of God loved me.

And He gave Himself for me.

I've never really been into art...

...but I couldn't help but notice this little shop on the side of the road.

Steven and I were walking the streets of "Ban Twai" one afternoon. It's one of our favorite places in Chiang Mai. It's an area outside of town that the Queen originally set up for the village people of Thailand. The purpose was to give them a populated place to display and sell their original and unique handicrafts.

It's so fun.

Steven and I have already been there 3 times--going from store to store looking at antiques, intricate woodwork, handicrafts, ceramic tableware, clothes, etc. You name it, Ban Twai probably has it. And if they don't, they'll make it for you. (Steven and I brought in a picture of a desk and credenza that we really liked to one of the woodwork shops and they are custom making it for us! Pics to come...) Who needs Pottery Barn when you have Ban Twai?

So as we were perusing one Saturday afternoon, my eye was caught by this little art shop. Sidenote: I have been wanting to get something to make our house a little more "homey" since we moved in. All of the decorations and furniture were already provided (praise God!), but I was itching at the chance to put pick out something for our house that was "us". Call me high maintenance, but nesting has become a big deal to me. I think it helps me feel settled and at peace. Don't get me wrong, I love our house. But now I just want it to be home.

And so, we started looking at this woman's paintings. They were beautiful. Abstract, full of color, life and a story. I was getting really excited.

A couple of years ago when we were in our couples Bible Study in Chicago, we challenged each other to come up with a mission statement and vision for our marriages. As we shared them with each other over the following weeks, one of the couples had a great idea. They thought it would be cool to narrow down our mission statements to just one word and then have it displayed somewhere in our houses. It would be a simple reminder of the purpose and vision for our marriages, while also being an interesting and fun conversation piece.

I loved the idea.

And as I walked around this little art shop in Ban Twai, I was reminded of it. Wouldn't it be cool to have this woman paint a picture for our house with our mission statement somehow in it?

I was sold.

A couple days later, the woman was at our house with her little boy, helping us come up with the colors and design of our painting. It, again, was such a gift to see God continue to bless us here. Not only with a great house and something special to make it home, but also with this unique opportunity to make a new friend.

And so, here it is. Our proud display of the mission statement of our marriage.

Hesed in art.

The hesed of God means the saving from enemies and troubles; the redemption from sin; the keeping of His covenants; a passionate and relentless love.

The hesed of man means kindness towards others, servanthood; lovingkindness extended to the lowly, needy and miserable; mercy and grace.

What a beautiful reminder of God's hesed towards us and our call to be hesed to the world around us. We pray this artwork will be the beginning of many conversations of the unfathomable hesed that many do not yet know.

¹ Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good.
His hesed endures forever.
² Give thanks to the God of gods.
His hesed endures forever.
³ Give thanks to the Lord of lords:
His hesed endures forever.

⁴ to him who alone does great wonders,
His hesed endures forever.
⁵ who by his understanding made the heavens,
His hesed endures forever.
⁶ who spread out the earth upon the waters,
His hesed endures forever.
⁷ who made the great lights—
His hesed endures forever.
⁸ the sun to govern the day,
His hesed endures forever.
⁹ the moon and stars to govern the night;
His hesed endures forever.

¹⁰ to him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt
His hesed endures forever.
¹¹ and brought Israel out from among them
His hesed endures forever.
¹² with a mighty hand and outstretched arm;
His hesed endures forever.

¹³ to him who divided the Red Sea asunder
His hesed endures forever.
¹⁴ and brought Israel through the midst of it,
His hesed endures forever.
¹⁵ but swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea;
His hesed endures forever.

¹⁶ to him who led his people through the wilderness;
His hesed endures forever.

¹⁷ to him who struck down great kings,
His hesed endures forever.
¹⁸ and killed mighty kings—
His hesed endures forever.
¹⁹ Sihon king of the Amorites
His hesed endures forever.
²⁰ and Og king of Bashan—
His hesed endures forever.
²¹ and gave their land as an inheritance,
His hesed endures forever.
²² an inheritance to his servant Israel.
His hesed endures forever.

²³ He remembered us in our low estate
His hesed endures forever.
²⁴ and freed us from our enemies.
His hesed endures forever.
²⁵ He gives food to every creature.
His hesed endures forever.

²⁶ Give thanks to the God of heaven.
His hesed endures forever.

Psalm 136

March 17th.

I never liked Saint Patrick's Day.

Maybe it's because I'm Asian. I could never fool anyone into thinking I was Irish like the rest of my friends. In elementary school, I remember wondering why there was never a "Samurai Day" where I could wear a "Kiss me, I'm Japanese!" shirt.

In middle school, I didn't liked Saint Patrick's Day because, not only did I not know who the guy even was, but we didn't even get a day off of school for him. I mean, atleast Casimir Pulaski got us a three day weekend...

And even as I grew up, I still didn't like Saint Patrick's Day. In college, while most loved waking up at 8 am to drink green beer and celebrate the day, I found it extremely sad. I remember one Saint Patty's Day, sitting in speech class where a guy gave an entire speech completely wasted. While it was admittedly (somewhat) impressive, it always bothered me how so many people on campus got so ridiculously drunk that day. I just didn't get it.

And even today, the distaste still stands. But not because I can't wear a cool shirt or because I have to watch people drink themselves into oblivion. I don't like Saint Patrick's Day because its careless and naive celebration seems like a total blasphemous and dishonoring act towards the man most people think is a leprechaun.

Let me explain.

A couple of years ago I actually learned who Saint Patrick was. No, he's not a leprechaun who looks for pots of gold at the end of rainbows. And no, he's not even Irish.

Without getting into a huge history lesson, simply put, Saint Patrick was a hero of the faith. An ordinary man, yet a great missionary used by God in big ways. Born in Britain, but captured and sent to Ireland as a young man, Saint Patrick was enslaved for 6 years. He eventually escaped back to Britain where he grew in His faith and love for the Lord. It was there that he felt God calling him back to Ireland--to bring the good news of the Gospel to the very people whom he had fled. And so, he returned to Ireland and began boldly preaching the Gospel. First to the Royal family, then to the masses. Through God, he and his disciples converted thousands and built churches all over the country. Bottom line: Saint Patrick is the missionary credited with converting Ireland to Christianity.

And look at the way we celebrate his life and mission.

It just seems so wrong.

Since learning about Saint Patrick's story, I have often wondered if he's up in heaven hating the way the world has changed his story. I wonder if he identifies with Jesus--knowing that their day of celebration has just become another commercialized holiday. I wonder if he is disgusted by the way he is remembered.

I told Steven tonight how I'd be so sad if people remembered me wrongly. How I want to be remembered as a woman who feared the Lord, a woman who loved Jesus and His calling, a woman who failed every day but felt the grace of God abundantly and honestly. I told him how I would hate to be remembered any differently. For my children, my grandchildren, my great-grandchildren to not know of my deep love and gratitude to my Savior. Or worst yet, for them to celebrate my life by dishonoring or abandoning their God, my God.

And as I was imagining the heartache, I realized that it probably doesn't matter. That Saint Patrick probably isn't mourning his misrepresented life. Because it's not about how people remember me. Or him. And it's not even how people remember God in my life. Or how many people were saved through his.

It's about how God remembers us.

For He is our Audience of one. And if God can remember my love and saving faith through the sacrifice of His Son, then does anything else really matter? My reputation. My accomplishments. My remembrance. Who cares. The only one who needs to truly know me and celebrate me is my Heavenly Father, the eternal God, the righteous Judge.

I bet when Saint Patrick finally met God face to face on that glorious day, receiving a "Well done, my good and faithful servant" was all he cared about. That day, today, and for all eternity, the Lord our God will remember every good and faithful deed carried out by His servant. And well, that's more than enough. That's all there is.

*To read more about St. Patrick, click here.

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.

"How are you feeling?"

It's the main question we've been getting as of lately. Everyone's been wanting to know what kind of emotions we're experiencing with Thailand only a few days away. "Are you excited? Scared? Hesitant? Ready?"

It's a seemingly simple question that comes with a layered and complex answer. Steven and I have laid in bed numerous nights trying to process our varying emotions, asking ourselves the very same question...

"how do we really feel?"

Because the reality is, there isn't just one thing we are feeling. Each night brings about a different emotion, with different epiphanies and lessons from God. And while they are some times hard to navigate, it has been a really encouraging and bonding experience for us.

And so, here's my attempt to process through all the paradoxical emotions that are going through the Sauders at this very moment--4 days from moving our lives, hearts and dreams to Thailand.

We are excited. This is mostly how we feel and our most common response to people. And it's not a fake answer or what we think we should say. We are genuinely and deeply excited. We are so ready for this. We can't wait to board that plane and step into an unknown world, only having each other, God and 4 suitcases. We love that. We love that our encounter with God will be more sweet and intimate than it ever has been before. We love that we will have to depend on God more than we ever have before. We love that we will grow and struggle in our faith more than we ever have before. We love that it will be less of us and more of God than it ever has been before. Maybe to say we are excited is an understatement. As a girl who still can't sleep on Christmas Eve because of the anticipation of Christmas morning, you can probably imagine the small amount of sleep I've gotten this past week. Even Steven is showing signs of excitement, and well, that's saying a lot.

We are thankful. Steven usually prays for us before we go to bed. The other night, instead of praying, we just started shouting out things we were thankful for.

Thanks God for our amazing families.

Thanks God for raising up people to financially support us. Thank you for their sacrifices.

Thanks God for healthy goodbyes.

Thanks God for such a straight path.

Thanks God for working out all the details.

Thanks God for all the unexpected people who have encouraged us along the way.

Thanks God for giving us each other.

Thanks God for selling our cars.

Thanks God for our friends who love us so well.

Thanks God for this opportunity.

Thanks God for being worthy of our lives.

Tears start to well up as I recount all that we are thankful for. It's such a hard thing to explain--this deep sense of gratitude we feel. So for now, just know that we are so very humbled and grateful to God and the body of Christ.

We are conflicted. This is a strange one. Sometimes I feel bad about it, but we often feel like we're living inside one big paradox. We're happy, but we're sad. We're excited, but we're nervous. We're counting it all joy, but we're counting the cost. We're prepared, but not fully. We want to sell everything, but we want to hold on to things. We enjoy this life, but there are days we hate it too. The range of emotions are sometimes overwhelming... My poor husband asks me every day, "How are you feeling?", knowing full well that I could answer with a big hug and smile or crumble into his arms with a deep sob. He never knows what he's gonna get. The biggest paradox we are facing is feeling so ready and excited, yet not wanting to say goodbye and leave. It's a big divide in our hearts. We know what awaits us in Thailand, we know this is the Lord's will, we are chomping at the bit to bring glory to God in a new place. That's exciting stuff. Yet, we love being "here". Being close to family. Having deep community with our friends. Seeing Leila grow up before our very eyes. That's hard stuff to leave behind. As Steven and I have talked about this conflicted feeling, I asked him if we were maybe getting a glimpse into how Jesus felt before coming to earth. Not to put ourselves on the same playing field as Jesus, but it gave us insight into the immense sacrifice He made for us. Leaving His heavenly home, His sweet communion with His Father, a safe and warm place. All to be made low, to be born in a manger, to be crucified, to save us all. Maybe Jesus was conflicted too. And maybe being conflicted isn't necessarily a bad thing for us to feel, but just another way to make us more like Him.

We are in awe. There is a peace we have that transcends all understanding. If you would have asked me 6 months ago how I'd be feeling a week before leaving, I would have probably used the word miserable. As much as we have wanted to do this, there was still a deep ache in my heart about leaving and I would cry any time I thought about it for too long. (Again with the whole paradox thing...) I was dreading the month of January. There would even be times of panic where I would look at Steven and say, "I don't want to go anymore. This is too crazy. I can't do this." But as we continued on, we kept praying for a deep sense of peace and JOY. I knew I wouldn't make it without God's supernatural help. I desperately needed Him to completely fill me so there would be no room left for fear. I was counting on God to somehow show up and get me on that plane. And you know what? His grace is sufficient. It's more than sufficient. It's everything. I am only able to stand here today, healthy and joyful, by the grace of God. Not by my own strength, but as a pure testament to God, who gives you the grace you need to carry out His will, however hard it may seem.

We are confident. We are no longer held captive by our fears or thinking too little of God. We have seen God at work and we move forward with a great confidence in His power and hand in all of this. I don't know how this all happened. I don't know how we raised support in 4 months. I don't know how we've been able to walk away from all that is comfortable. I don't know how we've managed to pack in only 4 suitcases. I don't know how I said goodbye to my grandparents. I don't know how all these hard things were made easy. But I do know that God was in it all. Walking by our side, holding our hands, whispering truth, gently encouraging, painfully sanctifying, constantly comforting. What sweet intimacy we have had with our God through this process. Upon reflection, Steven and I wondered if there were times in our lives that we've missed this opportunity. We questioned how many times we've let fear or disbelief stop us from doing hard things for the Kingdom, and as a result, missed times where we could have felt the deep hesed of our Father. That is why we are confident. Because we have been held by God and stand in His strength, not ours.

And there you have it. That's how the Sauder's really feel.

In honor of MLK Day...

Here's a recording, written and audio, of Martin Luther King Jr.'s last speech called "Drum Major Instinct". We listened to this at church yesterday and I just had to post it.

His speech was given on February 4th, 1968 and was an adaption of the 1952 homily "Drum-Major Instincts" by J. Wallace Hamilton, a well-known, liberal, white Methodist preacher. King encouraged his congregation to seek greatness, but to do so through service and love. King concluded the sermon by imagining his own funeral, downplaying his famous achievements and emphasizing his heart to do right.

Martin Luther King Jr. was shot exactly 2 months after this speech.

Below is an excerpt from his actual sermon 43 years ago. I also posted the speech in its entirety. It's rather long, but I bolded the last part where the audio coincides with it. I read through the whole speech. And it's a great message.

It was a great reminder of what we should be living for and how we should be living for it. Being just like Jesus, a humble servant for the Kingdom of God. I love his last line and pray it over my own life...

"Yes, Jesus, I want to be on your right or your left side, not for any selfish reason. I want to be on your right or your left side, not in terms of some political kingdom or ambition. But I just want to be there in love and in justice and in truth and in commitment to others, so that we can make of this old world a new world."

May we remember today a great man who stood for love, peace, and justice in the name of Jesus. And may we all be remembered as great as he.

The setting is clear. James and John are making a specific request of the master. They had dreamed, as most of the Hebrews dreamed, of a coming king of Israel who would set Jerusalem free and establish his kingdom on Mount Zion, and in righteousness rule the world. And they thought of Jesus as this kind of king. And they were thinking of that day when Jesus would reign supreme as this new king of Israel. And they were saying, "Now when you establish your kingdom, let one of us sit on the right hand and the other on the left hand of your throne."

Now very quickly, we would automatically condemn James and John, and we would say they were selfish. Why would they make such a selfish request? But before we condemn them too quickly, let us look calmly and honestly at ourselves, and we will discover that we too have those same basic desires for recognition, for importance. That same desire for attention, that same desire to be first. Of course, the other disciples got mad with James and John, and you could understand why, but we must understand that we have some of the same James and John qualities. And there is deep down within all of us an instinct. It's a kind of drum major instinct—a desire to be out front, a desire to lead the parade, a desire to be first. And it is something that runs the whole gamut of life.

And so before we condemn them, let us see that we all have the drum major instinct. We all want to be important, to surpass others, to achieve distinction, to lead the parade. Alfred Adler, the great psychoanalyst, contends that this is the dominant impulse. Sigmund Freud used to contend that sex was the dominant impulse, and Adler came with a new argument saying that this quest for recognition, this desire for attention, this desire for distinction is the basic impulse, the basic drive of human life, this drum major instinct.

And you know, we begin early to ask life to put us first. Our first cry as a baby was a bid for attention. And all through childhood the drum major impulse or instinct is a major obsession. Children ask life to grant them first place. They are a little bundle of ego. And they have innately the drum major impulse or the drum major instinct.

Now in adult life, we still have it, and we really never get by it. We like to do something good. And you know, we like to be praised for it. Now if you don't believe that, you just go on living life, and you will discover very soon that you like to be praised. Everybody likes it, as a matter of fact. And somehow this warm glow we feel when we are praised or when our name is in print is something of the vitamin A to our ego. Nobody is unhappy when they are praised, even if they know they don't deserve it and even if they don't believe it. The only unhappy people about praise is when that praise is going too much toward somebody else. (That’s right) But everybody likes to be praised because of this real drum major instinct.

Now the presence of the drum major instinct is why so many people are "joiners." You know, there are some people who just join everything. And it's really a quest for attention and recognition and importance. And they get names that give them that impression. So you get your groups, and they become the "Grand Patron," and the little fellow who is henpecked at home needs a chance to be the "Most Worthy of the Most Worthy" of something. It is the drum major impulse and longing that runs the gamut of human life. And so we see it everywhere, this quest for recognition. And we join things, overjoin really, that we think that we will find that recognition in.

Now the presence of this instinct explains why we are so often taken by advertisers. You know, those gentlemen of massive verbal persuasion. And they have a way of saying things to you that kind of gets you into buying. In order to be a man of distinction, you must drink this whiskey. In order to make your neighbors envious, you must drive this type of car. (Make it plain) In order to be lovely to love you must wear this kind of lipstick or this kind of perfume. And you know, before you know it, you're just buying that stuff. (Yes) That's the way the advertisers do it.

I got a letter the other day, and it was a new magazine coming out. And it opened up, "Dear Dr. King: As you know, you are on many mailing lists. And you are categorized as highly intelligent, progressive, a lover of the arts and the sciences, and I know you will want to read what I have to say." Of course I did. After you said all of that and explained me so exactly, of course I wanted to read it. [laughter]

But very seriously, it goes through life; the drum major instinct is real. (Yes) And you know what else it causes to happen? It often causes us to live above our means. (Make it plain)It's nothing but the drum major instinct. Do you ever see people buy cars that they can't even begin to buy in terms of their income? (Amen) [laughter] You've seen people riding around in Cadillacs and Chryslers who don't earn enough to have a good T-Model Ford. (Make it plain) But it feeds a repressed ego.

You know, economists tell us that your automobile should not cost more than half of your annual income. So if you make an income of five thousand dollars, your car shouldn't cost more than about twenty-five hundred. That's just good economics. And if it's a family of two, and both members of the family make ten thousand dollars, they would have to make out with one car. That would be good economics, although it's often inconvenient. But so often, haven't you seen people making five thousand dollars a year and driving a car that costs six thousand? And they wonder why their ends never meet. [laughter] That's a fact.

Now the economists also say that your house shouldn't cost—if you're buying a house, it shouldn't cost more than twice your income. That's based on the economy and how you would make ends meet. So, if you have an income of five thousand dollars, it's kind of difficult in this society. But say it's a family with an income of ten thousand dollars, the house shouldn't cost much more than twenty thousand. Well, I've seen folk making ten thousand dollars, living in a forty- and fifty-thousand-dollar house. And you know they just barely make it. They get a check every month somewhere, and they owe all of that out before it comes in. Never have anything to put away for rainy days.

But now the problem is, it is the drum major instinct. And you know, you see people over and over again with the drum major instinct taking them over. And they just live their lives trying to outdo the Joneses. (Amen) They got to get this coat because this particular coat is a little better and a little better-looking than Mary's coat. And I got to drive this car because it's something about this car that makes my car a little better than my neighbor's car. (Amen) I know a man who used to live in a thirty-five-thousand-dollar house. And other people started building thirty-five-thousand-dollar houses, so he built a seventy-five-thousand-dollar house. And then somebody else built a seventy-five-thousand-dollar house, and he built a hundred-thousand-dollar house. And I don't know where he's going to end up if he's going to live his life trying to keep up with the Joneses.

There comes a time that the drum major instinct can become destructive. (Make it plain) And that's where I want to move now. I want to move to the point of saying that if this instinct is not harnessed, it becomes a very dangerous, pernicious instinct. For instance, if it isn’t harnessed, it causes one's personality to become distorted. I guess that's the most damaging aspect of it: what it does to the personality. If it isn't harnessed, you will end up day in and day out trying to deal with your ego problem by boasting. Have you ever heard people that—you know, and I'm sure you've met them—that really become sickening because they just sit up all the time talking about themselves. (Amen) And they just boast and boast and boast, and that's the person who has not harnessed the drum major instinct.

And then it does other things to the personality. It causes you to lie about who you know sometimes. (Amen, Make it plain) There are some people who are influence peddlers. And in their attempt to deal with the drum major instinct, they have to try to identify with the so-called big-name people. (Yeah, Make it plain) And if you're not careful, they will make you think they know somebody that they don't really know. (Amen) They know them well, they sip tea with them, and they this-and-that. That happens to people.

And the other thing is that it causes one to engage ultimately in activities that are merely used to get attention. Criminologists tell us that some people are driven to crime because of this drum major instinct. They don't feel that they are getting enough attention through the normal channels of social behavior, and so they turn to anti-social behavior in order to get attention, in order to feel important. (Yeah) And so they get that gun, and before they know it they robbed a bank in a quest for recognition, in a quest for importance.

And then the final great tragedy of the distorted personality is the fact that when one fails to harness this instinct, (Glory to God) he ends up trying to push others down in order to push himself up. (Amen) And whenever you do that, you engage in some of the most vicious activities. You will spread evil, vicious, lying gossip on people, because you are trying to pull them down in order to push yourself up. (Make it plain) And the great issue of life is to harness the drum major instinct.

Now the other problem is, when you don't harness the drum major instinct—this uncontrolled aspect of it—is that it leads to snobbish exclusivism. It leads to snobbish exclusivism. (Make it plain) And you know, this is the danger of social clubs and fraternities—I'm in a fraternity; I'm in two or three—for sororities and all of these, I'm not talking against them. I'm saying it's the danger. The danger is that they can become forces of classism and exclusivism where somehow you get a degree of satisfaction because you are in something exclusive. And that's fulfilling something, you know—that I'm in this fraternity, and it's the best fraternity in the world, and everybody can't get in this fraternity. So it ends up, you know, a very exclusive kind of thing.

And you know, that can happen with the church; I know churches get in that bind sometimes. (Amen, Make it plain) I've been to churches, you know, and they say, "We have so many doctors, and so many school teachers, and so many lawyers, and so many businessmen in our church." And that's fine, because doctors need to go to church, and lawyers, and businessmen, teachers—they ought to be in church. But they say that—even the preacher sometimes will go all through that—they say that as if the other people don't count. (Amen)

And the church is the one place where a doctor ought to forget that he's a doctor. The church is the one place where a Ph.D. ought to forget that he's a Ph.D. (Yes) The church is the one place that the school teacher ought to forget the degree she has behind her name. The church is the one place where the lawyer ought to forget that he's a lawyer. And any church that violates the "whosoever will, let him come" doctrine is a dead, cold church, (Yes) and nothing but a little social club with a thin veneer of religiosity.

When the church is true to its nature, (Whoo) it says, "Whosoever will, let him come." (Yes) And it does not supposed to satisfy the perverted uses of the drum major instinct. It's the one place where everybody should be the same, standing before a common master and savior. (Yes, sir) And a recognition grows out of this—that all men are brothers because they are children (Yes) of a common father.

The drum major instinct can lead to exclusivism in one's thinking and can lead one to feel that because he has some training, he's a little better than that person who doesn't have it. Or because he has some economic security, that he's a little better than that person who doesn't have it. And that's the uncontrolled, perverted use of the drum major instinct.

Now the other thing is, that it leads to tragic—and we've seen it happen so often—tragic race prejudice. Many who have written about this problem—Lillian Smith used to say it beautifully in some of her books. And she would say it to the point of getting men and women to see the source of the problem. Do you know that a lot of the race problem grows out of the drum major instinct? A need that some people have to feel superior. A need that some people have to feel that they are first, and to feel that their white skin ordained them to be first. (Make it plain, today, ‘cause I’m against it, so help me God) And they have said over and over again in ways that we see with our own eyes. In fact, not too long ago, a man down in Mississippi said that God was a charter member of the White Citizens Council. And so God being the charter member means that everybody who's in that has a kind of divinity, a kind of superiority. And think of what has happened in history as a result of this perverted use of the drum major instinct. It has led to the most tragic prejudice, the most tragic expressions of man's inhumanity to man.

The other day I was saying, I always try to do a little converting when I'm in jail. And when we were in jail in Birmingham the other day, the white wardens and all enjoyed coming around the cell to talk about the race problem. And they were showing us where we were so wrong demonstrating. And they were showing us where segregation was so right. And they were showing us where intermarriage was so wrong. So I would get to preaching, and we would get to talking—calmly, because they wanted to talk about it. And then we got down one day to the point—that was the second or third day—to talk about where they lived, and how much they were earning. And when those brothers told me what they were earning, I said, "Now, you know what? You ought to be marching with us. [laughter] You're just as poor as Negroes." And I said, "You are put in the position of supporting your oppressor, because through prejudice and blindness, you fail to see that the same forces that oppress Negroes in American society oppress poor white people. (Yes) And all you are living on is the satisfaction of your skin being white, and the drum major instinct of thinking that you are somebody big because you are white. And you're so poor you can't send your children to school. You ought to be out here marching with every one of us every time we have a march."

Now that's a fact. That the poor white has been put into this position, where through blindness and prejudice, (Make it plain) he is forced to support his oppressors. And the only thing he has going for him is the false feeling that he’s superior because his skin is white—and can't hardly eat and make his ends meet week in and week out. (Amen)

And not only does this thing go into the racial struggle, it goes into the struggle between nations. And I would submit to you this morning that what is wrong in the world today is that the nations of the world are engaged in a bitter, colossal contest for supremacy. And if something doesn't happen to stop this trend, I'm sorely afraid that we won't be here to talk about Jesus Christ and about God and about brotherhood too many more years. (Yeah) If somebody doesn't bring an end to this suicidal thrust that we see in the world today, none of us are going to be around, because somebody's going to make the mistake through our senseless blunderings of dropping a nuclear bomb somewhere. And then another one is going to drop. And don't let anybody fool you, this can happen within a matter of seconds. (Amen) They have twenty-megaton bombs in Russia right now that can destroy a city as big as New York in three seconds, with everybody wiped away, and every building. And we can do the same thing to Russia and China.

But this is why we are drifting. And we are drifting there because nations are caught up with the drum major instinct. "I must be first." "I must be supreme." "Our nation must rule the world." (Preach it) And I am sad to say that the nation in which we live is the supreme culprit. And I'm going to continue to say it to America, because I love this country too much to see the drift that it has taken.

God didn't call America to do what she's doing in the world now. (Preach it, preach it) God didn't call America to engage in a senseless, unjust war as the war in Vietnam. And we are criminals in that war. We’ve committed more war crimes almost than any nation in the world, and I'm going to continue to say it. And we won't stop it because of our pride and our arrogance as a nation.

But God has a way of even putting nations in their place. (Amen) The God that I worship has a way of saying, "Don't play with me." (Yes) He has a way of saying, as the God of the Old Testament used to say to the Hebrews, "Don’t play with me, Israel. Don't play with me, Babylon. (Yes) Be still and know that I'm God. And if you don't stop your reckless course, I'll rise up and break the backbone of your power." (Yes) And that can happen to America. (Yes) Every now and then I go back and read Gibbons' Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. And when I come and look at America, I say to myself, the parallels are frightening. And we have perverted the drum major instinct.

But let me rush on to my conclusion, because I want you to see what Jesus was really saying. What was the answer that Jesus gave these men? It's very interesting. One would have thought that Jesus would have condemned them. One would have thought that Jesus would have said, "You are out of your place. You are selfish. Why would you raise such a question?"

But that isn't what Jesus did; he did something altogether different. He said in substance, "Oh, I see, you want to be first. You want to be great. You want to be important. You want to be significant. Well, you ought to be. If you're going to be my disciple, you must be." But he reordered priorities. And he said, "Yes, don't give up this instinct. It's a good instinct if you use it right. (Yes) It's a good instinct if you don't distort it and pervert it. Don't give it up. Keep feeling the need for being important. Keep feeling the need for being first. But I want you to be first in love. (Amen) I want you to be first in moral excellence. I want you to be first in generosity. That is what I want you to do."

And he transformed the situation by giving a new definition of greatness. And you know how he said it? He said, "Now brethren, I can't give you greatness. And really, I can't make you first." This is what Jesus said to James and John. "You must earn it. True greatness comes not by favoritism, but by fitness. And the right hand and the left are not mine to give, they belong to those who are prepared." (Amen)

And so Jesus gave us a new norm of greatness. If you want to be important—wonderful. If you want to be recognized—wonderful. If you want to be great—wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. (Amen) That's a new definition of greatness.

And this morning, the thing that I like about it: by giving that definition of greatness, it means that everybody can be great, (Everybody) because everybody can serve. (Amen) You don't have to have a college degree to serve. (All right) You don't have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don't have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don't have to know Einstein's theory of relativity to serve. You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. (Amen) You only need a heart full of grace, (Yes, sir, Amen) a soul generated by love. (Yes) And you can be that servant.

I know a man—and I just want to talk about him a minute, and maybe you will discover who I'm talking about as I go down the way (Yeah) because he was a great one. And he just went about serving. He was born in an obscure village, (Yes, sir) the child of a poor peasant woman. And then he grew up in still another obscure village, where he worked as a carpenter until he was thirty years old. (Amen) Then for three years, he just got on his feet, and he was an itinerant preacher. And he went about doing some things. He didn't have much. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never had a family. (Yes) He never owned a house. He never went to college. He never visited a big city. He never went two hundred miles from where he was born. He did none of the usual things that the world would associate with greatness. He had no credentials but himself.

He was only thirty-three when the tide of public opinion turned against him. They called him a rabble-rouser. They called him a troublemaker. They said he was an agitator. (Glory to God) He practiced civil disobedience; he broke injunctions. And so he was turned over to his enemies and went through the mockery of a trial. And the irony of it all is that his friends turned him over to them. (Amen) One of his closest friends denied him. Another of his friends turned him over to his enemies. And while he was dying, the people who killed him gambled for his clothing, the only possession that he had in the world. (Lord help him) When he was dead he was buried in a borrowed tomb, through the pity of a friend.

Nineteen centuries have come and gone and today he stands as the most influential figure that ever entered human history. All of the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned put together (Yes) have not affected the life of man on this earth (Amen) as much as that one solitary life. His name may be a familiar one. (Jesus) But today I can hear them talking about him. Every now and then somebody says, "He's King of Kings." (Yes) And again I can hear somebody saying, "He's Lord of Lords." Somewhere else I can hear somebody saying, "In Christ there is no East nor West." (Yes) And then they go on and talk about, "In Him there's no North and South, but one great Fellowship of Love throughout the whole wide world." He didn't have anything. (Amen) He just went around serving and doing good.

This morning, you can be on his right hand and his left hand if you serve. (Amen) It's the only way in.

Every now and then I guess we all think realistically (Yes, sir) about that day when we will be victimized with what is life's final common denominator—that something that we call death. We all think about it. And every now and then I think about my own death and I think about my own funeral. And I don't think of it in a morbid sense. And every now and then I ask myself, "What is it that I would want said?" And I leave the word to you this morning.

If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral. And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy, tell them not to talk too long. (Yes) And every now and then I wonder what I want them to say. Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize—that isn’t important. Tell them not to mention that I have three or four hundred other awards—that’s not important. Tell them not to mention where I went to school. (Yes)

I'd like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others. (Yes)

I'd like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody.

I want you to say that day that I tried to be right on the war question. (Amen)

I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry. (Yes)

And I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe those who were naked. (Yes)

I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison. (Lord)

I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity. (Yes)

Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice. (Amen) Say that I was a drum major for peace. (Yes) I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter. (Yes) I won't have any money to leave behind. I won't have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind. (Amen) And that's all I want to say.

If I can help somebody as I pass along,

If I can cheer somebody with a word or song,

If I can show somebody he's traveling wrong,

Then my living will not be in vain.

If I can do my duty as a Christian ought,

If I can bring salvation to a world once wrought,

If I can spread the message as the master taught,

Then my living will not be in vain.

Yes, Jesus, I want to be on your right or your left side, (Yes) not for any selfish reason. I want to be on your right or your left side, not in terms of some political kingdom or ambition. But I just want to be there in love and in justice and in truth and in commitment to others, so that we can make of this old world a new world.