A month and a half of silence here on the blog.
That’s not indicative of nothing happening, it’s more a sign that my mind just can’t wrap itself around how to put it all into words.
The truth is, I’ll never be able to. God is so much bigger than my mind can grasp. I’m not even going to try too hard to catch you up to speed. Instead, I’m hoping to discipline myself to use this space as something of a journal that I record in most days.
I so desperately want to never forget the way God has led and I know I will if I don’t get it down.
This morning we had to say goodbye to the company of fellow missionaries that we’d enjoyed for nearly two days. There are literally not words to describe the blessing of that fellowship.
Our worship times were made beautiful by the gift of music they brought with them. The stories shared about ways God is moving, even beyond human capacity to understand, was such a bolster to our faith.
It was sad to watch them drive away.
Their time here, and the conversations had, stimulated the realization that missionary life is so very different than our family, or maybe just I, had anticipated.
I imagined coming here and doing remarkable things. Sharing the love of Jesus with everyone we met. Feeding all the people and doing all the things.
It hasn’t been like that.
Predominantly we’ve been pouring into what’s right in our home. We’ve been learning to have two parents home full-time. Learning new ways to incorporate Scripture and worship into our mornings, days, and evenings with kids who don’t speak English. Learning to be friendly when in the shops and at the market when we experience an overwhelming sense of shyness.
Doesn’t feel a whole lot like ministry most days.
But then there are the times when a cat wondering the village attacks our kitten and our little Thai girl, Sky, asks me to come pray over the hurting little thing with her. Or the evenings when things get rushed and we forget to take them individually to read from the Bible after family worship and before bed and our spirited little Thai guy, Wind, reminds us.
Or when the incredibly sweet and hardworking Thai lady that was sent by missionaries we’d just met, to help keep us from drowning (though we didn’t even know we needed help) tells us how much she loves our children because they’re kind to each other.
And then we see ministry with a different skin on. Because maybe it’s really just about living the gospel as much as it is about sharing it.
Maybe it’s in the little things that we’re called to do no matter where we are on this planet but that somehow take on new meaning when we’re outside all that’s familiar.
There’s a lot happening outside the home, too, with some outreach opportunities unfolding in beautiful ways we could never have orchestrated. A church that, by the grace of God, will soon be planted. A couple homes in a slum region about to be improved. Progress being made forging friendships in that area thanks in large part to a fellow missionary fluent in Thai who was able to go visit (and translate) with Robbie yesterday.
Those things feel big and at the same time so small. Our desire to work is intense but our ability to have an impact always feels so stunted.
And so while we learn to allow God to write our stories in His time and His ways, we’re intentionally learning to look for His fingerprints anywhere we can find them.
Even when they’re just within our own little Thai home.