I’m sitting outside a Buddhist temple talking to a monk, wondering how I got here. I’m standing on the rooftop balcony worshipping God, wondering how I got here. I’m talking to the nicest people in the world wondering how I got here. I’m painting a women’s house, wondering how I got here. Okay, I know how I got here. I know exactly how I got here. I flew from Atlanta to New York and sat in the airport for 12 hours (it actually went by really fast). Then I boarded a Shanghai airlines plane and sat for 14 hours in a seat with a fancy paper on the seat head. I slept and woke and slept again, and never saw the sun rise on Thursday. I arrived in China in the dark. I waited and waited and waited in different lines. I watched as a marble city was swallowed by clouds. I stared as waterfalls of rain ran off the roof of the extremely fancy airport in Bangkok. I frantically tried to notify my bank that I was in Thailand so I could buy food. I took one last flight to Chiang Mai and fell asleep before we even left the gate. I arrived in Chiang Mai in the dark Friday night after leaving from Atlanta in the dark Wednesday morning. And lastly I laughed as we sped through Chiang Mai in a mini open bus called a Songthaew. Yet, I’m wondering how I got here. I’m wondering because I’m awed that this is where my life has brought me. I’m overjoyed to be here. I love this city with its crazy traffic and beautiful people. I love the crazy jumbled beautiful mix of old and new. I’m shocked by the potted plants EVERYWHERE! The ornate and delicate designs on practically everything draw the eye in wonder. I enjoy my lame attempts to learn Thai from people. I have to ask people how to say words many many times, and I still have only mastered a grand total of two Thai words. I struggle understanding the spirituality that is a part of most things here, and I struggle to understand my place in this big group and sprawling city. I’m learning how to let go of expectations and entitlement everyday, and I’m full of anticipation for what is to come. So much was unknown coming here and still much remains unknown but that’s okay. Like the Buddhist monk said when I asked him if he was going to be a monk for life, tomorrow is unknown. Tomorrow is not a promise. Today I painted all day. We are helping some Thai women who work at the coffee shop near our hostel repaint their rooms. Seeing their excitement has been the best reward. We will continue to paint the rest of the house this month. The house is going to be a permanent and temporary place for women to rebuild their lives. Yesterday we prepped for painting and wrote prayers and scripture and words of encouragement on the walls. We wanted to speak life and strength and joy into the lives of these women before we sealed the words under the new paint. I treasure the friendships that I’ve been making and I realize how much the little things matter. This is my life now. This is my new family. This is World Race. Thank you so much for helping me get here!
