It is not news to me that I am a smaller human. (I believe the choice word is “petite”) Honestly, I’ve come to terms with it. In fact I rather enjoy being smaller, the amount of hand me down clothes I’ve gotten this past month is actually ridiculous. Every once in a while though I’m reminded of certain limitations that go along with being “petite” and that has really been revealed through our new ministry this month.
Probably the most common form of ministry for all of the teams stationed here is manual labor. (Absolutely no surprise there) We are working at an orphanage that helps keep children out of certain disastrous trades (I can’t be specific, but feel free to fill in the blank ) I love kids, so hearing we would be at an orphanage no doubt sparked an absolute excitement! Which no doubt lead to a tinge of disappointment when I discovered that once again we would be doing manual labor rather than being with the kids. Bud, our ministry host (who isn’t afraid to cut the bull and is completely honest about all that we will be doing) , informed us quickly about our fate for the month. There was a line of pipes blocked up that created huge puddles of water, that fermented creating a huge health hazard for the kids. Our job, get the pipes out and find the problem. The method, dig some (ha) trenches.
Now I brought up being “petite” for a reason, because it is one thing to change your attitude and get enthused for ministry and then a completely other to jump with all your force on a shovel and immediately fall to the ground without making a dent. That was pretty much the entirety of day one at our new ministry site. Team members rotated in helping me “start” my holes, which soon turned into me walking around and just singing songs of encouragement to them as they did it. I put on a smile and pretended like I wasn’t effected, but in reality all I really saw was a limitation that had haunted me all these eighteen years.
Let’s get real for a second. It’s October, so don’t think for one moment that us racers aren’t brutally aware of the fact that you are all probably snuggled up in your favorite fall sweaters, and shamelessly sipping on your pumpkin spiced lattes or (for you non coffee drinkers) chai, most likely right in this moment as you (hopefully) are reading this very fantastically written blog. My point, Thailand is hot. The closest we’ve gotten to sweaters is just sweat. A lot of sweat. And some stylish neck, sock, and glove tans. For this same reason, Bud, our ministry host only has us work half days, much to my immediate relief.
I was a little bummed i was so excited it was only a half day, thats not how ministry should be, I should always love what I’m doing. I think part of my limitation however was simply the excuses brought on by frustration. As I bent in the trenches chipping away at the multitudes of rocks, ceramic, and leftover bits of cement from the buildings foundations, I could hear kids inside playing music and giggling. I longed so desperately to be with them but realized as continued digging that this was the absolute best way I could serve them. It wasn’t my presence in their lives that was going to help. To be completely honest, these kids don’t need another person to come in for a little bit and then disappear. The more I go outside to help fix problems, the less the people who can really pour into them, provide consistency, and love have to be the ones fixing it, and the more they can be the ones present in those children’s lives. Doing the job well allowed them to have a life without the fear of unnecessary health risks, and looking at it that way I was so honored I was spending my (half) day knees deep in a ditch. My problem wasn’t my size it was my stubbornness and pride, my savior mentality was blocking my Gods reality.
One trench lead to a pipe that revealed a problem that lead to yet another trench, which lead to yet another issue revealing the need to dig yet another trench. I think its fair to say our team was truly in the trenches, these past two weeks. Wouldn’t you know though, one morning it started pouring rain, and Bud decided it best that we spent our day inside playing with the kids. Its without a doubt that I say that day was by far the best ministry day I’ve had on the field. We danced, we sang, we played, we painted, and one girl even taught me guitar ( a feat my own brother couldn’t accomplish, turns out its easier when you don’t speak the same language, or at all for that matter) in the end it filled my heart more than I can say, getting to worship our Father in both Thai and English! Oh what a blessed life I’m living, that day reminded me such a thing.
This morning we walked on sight and I was completely refreshed, come to find out the rain filled all our trenches, resulting in more “creative” and muddy digging, and I didn’t mind at all. It’s still hard. I still fall when I jump on a shovel. I still look forward to Bud saying its time for lunch. Manual labor still isn’t my cup of tea, and thats ok. I love being able to be out there with my team, singing silly songs, and making each other laugh. I love hearing the girls play music from inside. I love the ability to minister in uncomfortable and unique ways. I guess thats just whats required of me until the end of this month, and so be it. I wouldn’t trade a day here for anything, and thats how I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Well thats all for now! Ciao!
