bandit

we lost our cat, bandit, today.  it was awful.  for the last week he fought a virus that he contracted from a live vaccination.

he came to us sick.  we didn't know it but thankfully realized something was wrong before it was too late.  he underwent major surgery, took awhile to heal, got to wear a cone and finally emerged
healthy and carefree.  the vet believed he was fine to

two cats and a cone.

have the vaccine...

originally, we got bandit as a playmate for reshma, since she's a psycho kitten and needed a friend to calm her down.   one of my students rescued him, but couldn't keep him at her house.  from the minute he arrived, he was the calming force to reshma's crazy.  he was the most laid-back, easy-going, happy kitten i've ever met.  he was perfect for our house.

bandit & ray were made for each other.

but he was only with us for two months.  and i've only learned to love cats in the last few years of my life.  so why did i weep so much today?  loss is awful, yes.  and watching something helpless suffer is horrid.

but i finally realized there was a lot more on that cat

playing in the sunshine.

than just sickness.  there's been a lot of death recently.  two of my dear friends just lost husbands suddenly.  another lost her dad and ray lost his grandma.  the tragedy in the philippines weighs heavily on all of us.  so today when bandit died, i cried over all the loss.  all the events that don't make sense and catch us by surprise and hurt.  when we brought the little cardboard box home and dug a hole and buried bandit, we felt the sorrow of billions of souls for those minutes.

a little life can represent so much more than what it is.  it can stand for loss...but before today it stood for innocent joy that i don't deserve but was grateful for at the end of the day.  it reminded me that there is always sunshine with the shadows.  thank you calm, sweet, quiet bandit, for that reminder.

bandit.

back to school for the summer!

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” 

―F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

the great gatsby JUST came to thailand a few weeks ago.  that event, plus the end of the school year, makes this quote appropriate.  so how is life beginning over again for us this summer? two words: thai school.  after two years here we finally have the time to devote to language study!  and while we are excited and learning and hopeful, there is nothing quite like being made to feel transported back to kindergarten on a daily basis!

the language school is 40 minutes from our house, so i have gotten two daily lessons for the price of one--how to learn thai PLUS get to and from (anyone who knows me well knows that i have no fears in driving, only in navigating)!  it's organized by the company ray contracts for, so we were generously given a discount.  since it's where ray works we need to take two vehicles in every day.  i would be willing to drive him in every morning, but our old car can't make that trip twice a day!  so he motorbikes in and i meet him there in the afternoons and then we race each other home (just kidding-- safety first)!

so we now find ourselves waist-deep in flashcards and having stilted, elementary conversations with our delightful teacher (i don't know how many times she can listen to us tell her we have a blue pen and a green notebook, but she always smiles!).  the classes are already paying off.  we are finally able to say more than the token six words to our neighbours.   i think the whole village around our house is invested in this adventure--we're getting more smiles and some helpful vocab advice wherever we go.  and just yesterday we met friends for breakfast and we were able to order completely in thai.

my main complaint is that we are taught in english phonetics.  while that's not a new language, it's still a lot to remember that the 'c's sound like 'j's and the 'ph's are aspirated 'p's and NOT 'f's--all while we're trying to remember which of the five tones to use.  i wish we could go straight to the thai alphabet (it's 'not how things are done,' however).  written language makes so much more sense to me.  when we first arrived (and we were delusional enough to think we could study thai a few hours a week while working full schedules and adjusting to a new culture) we asked a coworker at school to teach us the alphabet and speaking simultaneously.  ray does better with speaking; i do better with the written part.  we eventually had to quit due to money and time constraints, but i still remember the little we were shown.  i keep practicing with road and street signs, but i need more written thai knowledge before i become dangerous!  my solution for the present is to focus on building vocabulary and relationships (since it would be awkward to just pass notes to the neighbours for the rest of my life), but supplement my learning with alphabet flashcards (i just found this helpful site: http://slice-of-thai.com/flashcards) and practice with everyone's favourite kid's book, manee and friends (also helpfully found online here: http://www.learningthai.com/books/manee/)!  with those useful links, you can join us in learning this incredible language!

we'll keep stumbling on these tones and maybe pull a tongue muscle or two trying to say the long 'u' with frog mouths...  i'll keep questioning where the money will come from and if the car will keep agreeing to make the trip...  our teacher will keep learning we are indeed holding a blue pen and that i would not like to order bananas...  our neighbours will keep wondering why we're so slow to remember the 10 new words they rattled off to us the day before...  but we'll keep trying.  the costs of communication are a worthy venture and we can't wait to be able to do more than smile at people! 

17 days

this has been such a sad time for bangladesh. i've been so upset that i've had trouble sleeping this last week. and then: today. this story comes during an awful time, and thus, the perfect time. praise God for hope. reshma's life is so utterly precious against the backdrop of devastating loss.  this is amazing.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-22477414

walking alongside

the 4 of us enjoying chiang mai.

we had some amazing visitors come over break.  johnmark mangiameli is like a little brother to me and his wife jessica is just as amazing.  it’s one of those weird stories where i met her when i was 11 in america—years before i knew johnmark…but don’t remember meeting her.  she told me that my family’s visit inspired her to work overseas helping people.  j&j ended up at the same college years later, married and eventually moved here to thailand to work in bangkok with a group called the well.  they work with women in the red light district, offering support, job training and counseling.  we sat around our little dining table and talked, talked, talked.  i am so honoured to know them and do my tiny little bit to encourage their incredible work.  their hearts are so big and sincere and strong…though weary.  they’re doing hard work that’s oh so necessary.

i had so many fleeting moments of inadequacy as i listened to them.  they’re doing REAL work.  i just teach…  but something else happened as we talked.  i remembered.  memories came flooding back.  you see, there’s a story of how johnmark became my little brother.

the story takes place when i was a senior in high school.  due to many different factors, i moved schools/countries/lives in 12^th grade.  i moved to the philippines to go to a boarding school named faith academy.  within three weeks of starting school and being the new girl (yet again), i got really sick.  i had been a healthy person up to that point.  i had somehow managed to avoid all the crazy tropical diseases that everyone around me succumbed to at one point or another. 

the situation wasn’t handled as well as it could have been, maybe.  i wasn’t taken to a doctor as fast as i should have.  the doctor misdiagnosed.  i didn’t get true results until 6 weeks in.  finally it was shown: i had mono, but at that point it had gone on so long without proper treatment and rest that it turned into some extreme case with far-reaching consequences (really far!  i was sick in some form for the next 10 years…but that’s another story!).  for ultimate recovery, i was moved out of the dorm and in with the mangiameli (mangi) family. 

i remember arriving with my few earthly possessions at their house right before christmas.  they had a daughter my age and four younger boys (johnmark included).  they were the dorm administrators and had previously worked as dorm parents of boys only.  i showed up, threatening this precious history and balance of testosterone and estrogen.  i was treated as one of the family, but in the very beginning still regarded with some suspicion.  who was this other girl that just landed on the doorstep with no history and no knowledge of brothers?! 

but the mangis accepted me so quickly.  johnmark let me take needed naps without bothering me, josiah went with me to the mall to listen to music, i helped micah with homework and drew washable marker tattoos on clay.  caroline became a workout partner, fellow baker, and sister to me.  uncle joe fed me with his quiet wisdom.  and aunt deb celebrated who i was.

care&me in high school.

a visit in america a few years after high school.

they were there for me at such a crucial time.  i arrived so much more broken than i thought.  the physical was the thin layer on top covering the sickness within.  i was coming from pain and fear and confusion and anger and loneliness.  and they took me and loved me and accepted me and gave me hope.  they were real about life and failings, while giving wise counsel.  mostly, they let me be me, giving time to accept who that was.  there were so many days of crying (after years of denying myself that right) and aunt debi was right there, letting me. 

last night i was following the news story about the police hunt for a suspect in the boston marathon bombings.  his name is dzhokhar and he is 19.  i don’t know his story and i certainly don’t know the ending.  but the fact that someone this young is being hunted down is so sobering and sad.  i immediately wondered if his story would be different had he had support and positive influences.  maybe he did.  i don’t know.  but it made me think of my students.  they’re just starting out in this land of independence, discovery and hormones.  who knows what will happen between now and 19 years old?  when/what if they get to a place of such confusion and brokenness BUT they have someone come alongside to listen?  what then?  i’m not naïve enough to think that will automatically change everyone, but isn’t it a start?  it changed my life.

i had an incredible family who gave me a strong and loving legacy.  but i still had to leave and grow up and take all the things that come with that.  and i needed someone to stand with me when i felt like i stood alone.  that’s what the mangis did for me.  that’s what i hope to do for this next generation.  and that’s why i’m here.  to live alongside, to offer my bit of wisdom, to hold while the tears come, to accept.  it’s not a lot, but it could still change lives. 

meeting ray for the first time.

healing

i have a crazy story to tell you!  honestly, this is not a story i ever thought i would write, but it’s happened, i’ve lived it, so i need to tell you… 

in february, ray and i were walking in a local market called warorot, looking at all the set-up for the upcoming chinese new year festivities.  i remember feeling so great that morning.  and then suddenly, in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded by people, feeling weird and awful.  i started feeling dizzy and exhausted and nauseous. 

of course i insisted on going to school the following monday (even though ray told me i was dumb) and ended up being wheeled out and taken to the emergency room (thereby probably scaring all my students beyond repair).  over the course of the next 6 weeks, i couldn’t move for fear of the world spinning out of control.  my symptoms were getting worse and worse.  i had multiple appointments and check-ups and an eventual MRI and the doctors eventually settled on the diagnosis of meniere’s disease.  a hearing test showed that i had indeed lost some hearing in my left ear and i was told to brace myself for a lifetime of sporadic dizzy attacks and low-salt meals and to reconsider teaching as a career.  i lost chunks of memory and spent most of my days alone in our house, lying on a couch, unable to think or move in a straight line.  i would whimper at the room to please stop moving, while listening to the tv for some noise (while avoiding visual contact since things move fast on tv!).

this was all lonely and exhausting and frustrating.  but somehow, none of this felt like a complete punishment.  my default when life feels overwhelming is to work harder and worry more.  i was in a cycle of exhaustion and stress and didn’t see an end in sight.  i realized i probably needed this time…though discouragement was a constant battle.

the support and love shown to me (to us!) held me back from the edge of despair.  countless people drove up the mountain to visit for a few minutes, drop off food, deliver water, pray for me and give me cards.  my former colleague, jillian, has her doctorate in vestibular disorders, and checked in with me often (despite the time differences between america and thailand) to give advice and encouragement.  i had an amazing long-term sub at school that loved those kids and taught with excellence.  my co-teacher held it all together and still came up every few days to see me.  and my husband never wavered.  that man deserves a gold medal!  i’m still reeling from the community that cushioned us FROM DAY ONE of this experience.  i will never be able to say thank you enough.

some of the incredible, creative cards I received.

but i’m getting away from the best part of this story: this crazy, amazing healing!  God deserves all the credit for this miracle.  He spoke to many people last week about specific prayers for me.  two women came on sunday saying they had been convicted by the bible passage of james chapter 5 to lay hands on me, anoint me with oil and pray for healing.  they wanted to bring a large group of people, however, and that had been discouraged since i had to keep all stimulation to a minimum.  i thought it sounded great, though, and they said they would organize it.  even before they were able to tell people of their plan, God spoke to three other individuals about a similar thing.  one felt led to speak to the kids about it in elementary chapel.  they drew an outline of me (or really: a cute kindergartener!) and every student signed their name and oil was pressed into the paper and prayer was spoken for my healing.  another woman came up the mountain to encourage me and shared a bible passage that spoke deeply to me. the other dear woman came up on monday.  ever since she prayed, my symptoms of dizziness and exhaustion were greatly reduced.  there was a great heaviness of darkness, however, that permeated the week.  i couldn't sleep and felt great oppression.   

on thursday three cars pulled in to the house and many, many people from school streamed out.  what followed was a beautiful time of protection, freedom, worship, thanksgiving and emotion.  the darkness lifted, light poured in and God's spirit was in this place.  people stayed for almost an hour—much longer than the 20 planned minutes!  

when they left i was still on the couch—tired, but nowhere close to what i was normally after even a short conversation.  i was overwhelmed with people's love and God's presence.  i was so overwhelmed i was on my face on the floor, crying and praising.  i then got up to play the piano.  i hadn't played in months—most recently because of the memory loss and couldn't make sense of the music.  suddenly i could read clearly, however, and had such fun playing!  following that i went to write down the main things that God had said to me during the prayer time.  at the bottom of the page, i had almost run out of room, but i felt like my hand was taken over and i didn't know what i was writing.  i looked to see what was on the paper and i saw: ‘i am healed.’  and that's when i knew.  God had worked a miracle.  

the paper when i saw that i was healed.

earlier that morning i couldn't walk a straight line and that evening i was running around our yard!  when my dear calm husband walked in from work, i hugged him and exclaimed, 'are you ready for this?!  i have so much to tell you!' 

it’s been a week now and i keep feeling better and better!  i feel the best i have in many long months!

i am overflowing with gratefulness.  so many gave encouragement, meals, notes, water and time.  i doubt i will ever lose this feeling of amazement over abundant provision.  thank you.  

reunited with some of the teachers who came on that thursday.

i will be returning to teaching on monday.  i will work part-time, teaching classes in the morning for the next two weeks.  the wonderful marge will continue teaching in the afternoons.  following the april break, i hope to be back to teaching full-time for the duration of the school year.  

seeing some of my students for the first time in a long time!

i know that many of you are going to be weirded out by this story.  i can only tell you what’s happened to me and let you take this account how you will.  but i do hope you’re stretched to be amazed at this mysterious, beautiful world and have a conversation with God about it.