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.

writer's block

whenever i can’t deal with things, i give up writing.  for most of my life, i have been terrible about keeping in touch with those i love the most.  separation overwhelms and hurts me, so writing people is given up.  and while writing is one of my favourite cathartic exercises, it is abandoned when a situation becomes too big or pain-filled. 

2012 was a rough summer.  it was more than rough, actually.  it brought me to my knees.  i’ve come through heartache, wrenching goodbyes, depression, insomnia…and not all gracefully.  and since july, i haven’t been able to write.  i’ve had plenty of ideas and thoughts, but the inability took over. 

…one of my favourite thoughts is that we will never stay exactly like we are.  ‘but let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery i'll probably never fully understand. we're not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed (1 corinthians 15.51).’  there will always be a change in us or our circumstances. sometimes the change seems worse for a bit, but we know that we won’t be left stagnant, moulding in a corner of life.  there is ALWAYS hope for change. 

as God has graciously done for me countless times in the past, He has surrounded me by incredible people during this last semester.  there have been many days where i have barely limped through, but beautiful humans held me up, encouraging me to keep going forward, looking toward the hope of change.

so this december, it’s time to write again.  

durian challenge!

a dirty diaper burning on a pile of hair.  the worst B.O. mixed with wafting sewage.  a perfume of rotting flowers in toxic gas.  these are all descriptions i've heard for durian, a big, smelly fruit that is often well-loved in this part of the world.  it's usually issued with a warning, however; many places have signs: no durian allowed inside!  it's certainly a daunting fruit--one that most visitors are not eager to try. 

both katie and i had it growing up.  neither of us were fans.  ray had never experienced the incredible mix of slimy and chewy, silky and pungent.  i know so many people, however, who LOVE durian.  i've always wondered if it's a taste i would grow into one day.  a few months ago we had dinner with a man who grew up in indonesia and now lives in thailand.  he introduced us to his theory: if one will eat durian at least three times within a two week period, one would be changed to a durian-lover!  so the three of us (katie, ray and i) set out to be converted!  here are the pictures:

 durian!

 unsure about where this smelly journey will take us.

 ready, set, eat!

 ray finds himself pleasantly surprised and rates his first tasting a 7.

 katie is less impressed and designates a 3 to this try.

 i am unable to conceal my disgust.  a 2 is generous.  

 a few days later we were back for more!

 sadly, this round was not as good for anyone.  ray came down to a 5.

 katie holds steady at a 3. 

 yet again, i am impolite in my response.

 i barely manage to hold up a 1.

 last chance to turn us into believers!  and, yes!  katie gives it a 6!

 ray jumps back up to a smile and a 7!

 it was improved for me at a 3, but i'm still not happy about it!

a 3 with a smile, since i felt badly about all my faces....

songkran

happy new year!  it's the traditional beginning of the year...celebrated in chiang mai by the biggest water fight in the world called songkran!  this was a time that used to focus on showing respect to the elders in one's life.  the purification symbol of water was used to bless superiors; often water was poured on the shoulder. 

all that has morphed into an incredibly fun time of dousing people with water.  the streets are lined with people in garishly-coloured shirts and buckets of water, throwing it at motorcycles and trucks going by who are armed with their own barrels or waterguns. 

getting ready for a passing motorcycle...

contact!

we went with some friends down to the main part of town--the remnants of an ancient moat.  before taking two steps we were promptly soaked.  we were sucked right in to the wet mayhem.  warm water from the moat was flung from buckets.  ice water from barrels was poured down our backs. 

ready for a water fight!

at one point, i stood in the middle of the huge, water-soaked crowd, pushed the wet hair out of my face, and could not believe how unbelievably fortunate i was.  i loved seeing a whole community come together with gusto.  the fact that we get to live here and take part in such fun is beautiful to me. 

this is a time that started for cleansing.  and now, after this songkran break, with time to think and pray and be and participate in a huge water fight, i indeed feel cleansed and ready for the sprint to the end of the school year!

note: since i didn't want our little camera to get ruined, i didn't take it out of the car.  i sacrificed good pictures for the chance to take future pictures!  so be sure to do a google search on songkran and its history!  then go out and organize your own water fight!

impromptu goodbye

i had to say goodbye to one of my students today. 

his family has an amazing story.  they were being persecuted in their passport country.  they barely escaped to thailand and started over with nothing.  for the last five years they've been living here, the kids attending grace and trying to get asylum in the united states.  it all finally went through a few days ago.  i learned he was leaving yesterday afternoon.  and i have kept up a pretty steady diet of tears ever since (though not in front of the kids--just in case you're worried that they've had to put up with a soppy, red-eyed crazy teacher!). 

i hate the fact that will not see him again this year.  i hate that my time with him is done--just like that.  he was just learning to push himself in school and think more critically and live with more empathy.  i don't think he needs me.  i just love being part of his journey.  i love it every day.  

even after a lifetime of constant and consistent goodbyes, i STILL don't do well with them.  i'm a strong believer in doing them right.  but i still hate them.

i am so very sad.  i know email and facebook and skype exist.  i know this is an opportunity for his family that is necessary and miraculous.  but i also know i am so sad to lose a student overnight.  obviously, if it was up to me, i would only add students and never let any present ones go!   

but here's what i can give him: i can teach him how to say goodbye.  i at least can offer that to him.  after all, i'm an expert from a lot of experience.  i sat with him yesterday afternoon during study hall.  together we wrote 'a plan on leaving.'  i stressed the importance of apologizing for any hurts caused, the necessity of thanking those who had a positive influence on him, the value of saying goodbye to people AND places, and finally the joy of looking forward at all the good to come.  he made a T chart of what he would miss in thailand and all that he was looking forward to in the move. 

he struggles to be serious.  he loves having fun.  i told him that will get him through a lot in life!  but i also was direct: his life as he's known it will drastically change overnight.  he's had very little prep time and it is vital for him to acknowledge the hugeness of all that's happening.  he told me tears feared him!  i laughed and said he didn't need to cry to have huge emotions, but he DID have to acknowledge.  if we go through life not recognizing what's happening to us and not naming it, we are people out of touch with ourselves, our lives and our God. 

we had an impromptu party for him.  the day coincided with 'pi day,' which meant yummy pies!  a fellow student made a huge chocolate cake and a sweet mom brought in a tray of cookies and brownies.  in all the craziness of the day, it whirled to a close too fast.  everyone signed his yearbook and i wrote him a note folded into an origami e. 

i told him i was proud of him and that i would miss him.  he skipped away for the last time and i went back to being a seven-year-old.  back to having to say yet another goodbye, closing up a relationship stretched across oceans, back to having no control over the pain.  i cried because i know despite all the good in his life, there's also confusion and homesickness and sorrow in store for him.

he's done what he can in this short breath of time.  we've done what we can.  so now the awful goodbyes have been said, we acknowledge the pain, and we continue being present for those still here.  

goodbye, elijah.  i will miss you greatly.