I wish a blank page were readable so I wouldn’t have to conjure up words to decorate it. So I wouldn’t have to try and untangle the mess of thoughts and emotions inside my heartbroken being.
I have less than 7 hours in this place– this place I’ve called home for a month and have truly meant it. In the early hours of the morning I will have to face my dread and say goodbye. Give one last hug, one last kiss and move on to Cambodia to love on new people and work a new ministry.
It’s not fair. It’s not fair to move when your heart has planted its roots. It’s not fair to meet strangers and so quickly fall in love with them and they, in turn, adopt you only to have to say goodbye too soon. It’s not fair to make so many memories but not be able to relive them whenever you want because the people that occupy those memories will soon be thousands of miles away in a once again foreign country, culture and language.
So of course I can’t sleep when I have less than 7 hours left to bask in the beauty of this home in Selaphum which is outside the city of Roi Et in the country of Thailand.
I want to continue to watch the mangy dogs walk by, protecting my mama, my friend and I as we lay cozy inside a mosquito netted hut. I want to soak in the sounds of life here: the sleepy Thai my newfound sister, Ja calls out to her dad, the soothing hum of the crickets, the barely audible landing of the sly cats jumping from the ice cream freezer.
Thailand has released a floodgate of emotions in me that I’m not quite sure I’m ready to swim in. Pastor and Mama have become like parents to me, so much so that I wish to be the little daughter who refuses to grow up. “Home” no longer leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but rather makes me smile and feel safe. Love has a whole new meaning to me, and acceptance is an avenue I’m beginning to dance down instead of crawling around in the shadows.
I’ve discovered more love, more genuine Kingdom living than ever before. I’ve struggled here, yes, but it was in the quiet whispers and silent exchange of smiles that I truly overcame myself. I was broken by simplicity, even in the midst of comfort. Simplicity in the fact that nothing major caught my eye or grabbed at my heart, but rather the addition of every little blessing, every seemingly mundane task or moment.
I am enraptured. I am torn apart. I am a mess of tears and broken pieces and anticipation for what’s next. But I am grateful. I am overwhelmingly thankful for being sent here, and for being chosen by this family even after the fact. I am eternally blessed by the love that’s been poured into me so that I may, in turn, pour it into others I meet. I am showered with the blessings of hugs, cuddles and silly exchanges I had with all the kids running around these grounds. I am overcome by all of these things, and I can’t even begin to comprehend the love of Jesus if these people are hardly even a sliver of it.
So, yeah, it’s not fair that I grow attached to people only to have to tear apart or to settle down only to have to move again, but… You know I really don’t have a rebuttal. I don’t want to accept that beautifully destroying my heart is justifiable. But if I need a but, it’s that God is sovereign. He has a plan. And I guess Thailand isn’t the final phase of that plan, as I have many more steps and hurdles to run and jump over. I can only hope that my running and jumping comes full circle so I can twirl with my girls again, laugh with my mama, decorate this blank page with tears of joy and colors of a full life.
Until then, Thailand…
