I’m writing this from my room in Chiang Dao, Thailand. I’m lying on my bunk bed which feels like a sheet stretched over a piece of plywood. I’m on top of my blanket, not using it, but still the oscillating fan only cools me for a few seconds at a time. My limbs are tired. My hands are covered with something that lies somewhere between a callous and a blister. I have a cough from the humidity and cold nights. But being here is a privilege.
We arrived in Thailand a few days ago. After getting our ministry information we found out we’d be working at an orphanage and farming. I was both excited at the chance to live with our host family and become a Thai farmer for a month, and nervous about the energy-intensive work we’d be doing. I know that farming can be some of the hardest labor, so, though I was looking forward to the month, there was definitely a sense of dread going into it. Ministry didn’t disappoint.
It’s been every bit as difficult as I had expected. We eat breakfast at 6:30 (home cooked, delicious Thai food. Seriously some of the best of my life.) before going to our ministry site at 7:30. There, we’ve spent the past several days clearing out ancient clumps of bamboo that have become knotted together at the roots. Our days are split between hacking away at bamboo and trees (all with hatchets and machetes) and digging trenches to lay the foundation of a wall. Our backs are sore and our arms ache at the end of each day from the repeated motion of swinging our hand tools into the hardened wood that we’re removing. It’s difficult work.
After seven hours of this, we go home and have a several hour period of time to play with the kids at Fountain of Hope. There are fifteen children. A few of the older kids know some English, and the younger kids know how to say “moon,” but for the most part, we’re unable to communicate through language. But we play games and do magic tricks, and meals are always eaten together. The children are joyful and it makes being here a joy.
This place is like a family. Which sounds cliche, but it’s really true. Wanida and Arron, our ministry hosts, are just a married couple from Chiang Dao. They’re ordinary people who have committed their lives to loving and raising fifteen children. And we’ve been invited in for the month to help them with work projects and invest in the kids.
I said earlier that it’s a privilege to be here. That’s because this isn’t my ministry. I don’t mean that in any way to sound like I’m uncommitted or feel unvalued here. I love this place, I love the kids, I love our ministry hosts and what they’re doing. But this isn’t my ministry because it was here for years before I knew about it. And Wanida and Arron will keep their lives dedicated to it for years after I’m gone. They’re wanting to build a new home and those plans are in their early stages right now—clearing fields, laying foundations, cutting down bamboo. I’m here for a short time in a ministry that I have no right to be involved in. I’m here purely by the grace of the Lord. Purely by His desire to share good things with His children, of whom I’m lucky enough to be one.
So it’s a privilege to be part of this family for a month, eating what they eat and following their schedules. It’s a privilege to sweat and ache through long days of hard labor. But mainly its a privilege to have been brought around the world to meet a family that worships the same God, and have the opportunity to help them in their plans. So, thank You, Lord, for bringing me to Chiang Dao.
