Tonight Hannah and I went to a birthday party. It was for Khruu Khwan's son. It was awesome.

There were these two missionaries there from Australia. One of the ladies works up in Burma with a specific hill tribe group working on developing a written language in order to translate the Bible for those people. We were all sitting around talking about learning languages and she told us about a man she works alongside.

He is a Burmese man who speaks eight languages. Eight....crazy, right? But that's not the craziest thing. The craziest thing is that God has actually given him a few of those languages (I forget how many...). What does that even mean? I thought the same thing.

She told us this: He was going to a group of people in order to establish contact with them. He brought along with him a good friend of his who spoke the people's language in order to translate for him. He began speaking in his language...but the words came out in the language in which he did not yet know. He was thinking in his own language, intending to speak in that language, but the words came out as the people's language. So...God literally put the words into his mouth. God taught him the language.

Okay...confession. When I heard this I really could not believe it. But than I thought about the numerous times this summer when I have had the same reaction to a story, either read in a book (Brother Andrew...see a previous post) or heard from missionaries. Even from talking with a Korean man in Cambodia at our hotel (ask me to tell you that story sometime). Each time I've heard some account where it could only have been God working, I have stood there, opened mouth, wondering about the truth of it. And than realizing that it is in fact true. That my Father could actually work in those amazingly unbelievable ways.

And I finally understood tonight something that God as been try to teach me all summer. Something he has been trying to teach me through the stories and accounts I have heard. The lesson is this: my understanding and belief of what God can do, how he can work, is too small. My belief in God's working in this world is too small. I have put God in a box...thinking he is powerful. But not believing he is powerful enough to literally put a new language in someones mouth. Or make seeing eyes blind (as Brother Andrew experienced). Or provide for every single need of George Muller. And the list could go on.

I have always easily accepted the stories of miracles Jesus did in the Bible. Healing people. Raising people from the dead. Feeding thousands from a boy's small offering of five loves of bread and two small fish.

But why than do I find it harder to believe that He can still work in similar miracles ways today? Why is my faith so small? And my unbelief so big?

I want to believe that He is so powerful that He can still do similar acts today. And I want to believe that He is still working this very moment to care for the forgotten of this world and to melt hearts of stone. I was thinking of camp songs the other day. Paw, the girl I teach English to, always wants me to sing songs with her. To teach her new songs. So I was trying to remember the many songs I have learned over the years at camps and Sunday school and vacation Bible schools. And God remained me of this one: "My God is so BIG, so STRONG, and so MIGHTY there's NOTHING my God can not do, for you!" How true that is.

So slowly, God is reminding me of his power. And I learning to believe that he does have the power to protect the thousands of hill tribe people in Burma fleeing their villages as the army burns them down. And He does have the power to cause reconciliation between Thai people and hill tribe people. And He does have the power to come into the urban slum where Paw lives and give those girls hope for a brighter future. A future where they can become teachers or doctors, not prostitutes. And He does have the power to make his name known in a nation where over 90% of the population are Buddhists. And He has the power to direct my path for the future.

Things I like about Thailand:

1. the rain
2. being able to look outside and see the mountains
3. Khruu Khwan (my Thai teacher)
4. talking with Mrs. Veldt...and soaking up her wisdom
5. dancing with the Veldt's in their living room
6. spending time with my girls at House of Love (the orphanage)
7. walking through the markets
8. Tim Tam sucking parties
9. riding rot dangs and song-thaws
10. the Sunday market
11. eating dinner on top of the East wall of the old city
12. running in the rain
13. the funny things Cal and Tristan say (Hannah's brothers)
14. drinking Sprite in the huts next to the lake
15. browsing used book stores
16. teaching Paw English...and having her teach me about contentment finding joy in the small things
17. riding on the back of Phii Kay's motorcycle
18. the food...and learning to enjoy spicy food
19. having a ton of time to journal, read, and pray
20. people watching
21. learning about what God in doing in this part of the world up close and personal
22. hiking the mountains
23. talking with Phii Kay and Phii Dao...they practice their English while I practice my Thai
24. watching the beautiful Thai dancers...and learning to appreciate new cultures

Things I don't like about Thailand:

1. knowing that people try to charge me more because I'm a farang (Westerner)
2. the heat in the middle of the day
3. the smell of the meat area at the markets
4. the fact the Chiang Mai is filled with farangs

About a week ago the Veldt family, their friends Liz and Dave, and I all piled into a truck at 6:30 am...heading for Burma (now called Myanmar).

Our mission: border run. We had to renew our visas.

It was about a five hour drive up north. Once we arrived we headed across. And once we crossed into Burma we were immediately face to face with the people of Burma. Most of whom are probably internally displaced peoples (IDPs). The streets were full of people wanting to sell the farang (Westerner or Caucasian person) anything from tours of Burma to CDs. Here's a picture of one of the streets. We didn't spend too much time there since Mr. Veldt and Kevin (our friend from Wheaton) were waiting on the Thai side of the border for us.

After we left the border we headed for a village where some the the "B-people" live. Liz, Mrs. Veldt's friend, works with Bible translators. She lived on and off in this specific village for five years learning the language and working to create a written language. She still works closely with these people and she's still is very close with many women in the village. She invited us to visit her there and have dinner with them. It was one of my favorite memories thus far.

Before dinner, we went on a walk around the village meeting many of the women. And than we headed for the rice fields. And I quickly discovered one of the most beautiful places in the world. The pictures I took really do not do it justice. Each family owns a certain portion of the fields that they are responsible to care for. And that is the rice they own, both to eat and to sell. Although the fact that they care for their own portion is individualistic, the entire layout of the rice fields depends upon the community to survive. They have a way of directing the water from a near-by stream to different parts of the field. And if one families' land needs more water, they all will work to redirect the water in order to support that family. It's beautiful the way their way of life is so dependent upon community. Sometimes I often wonder if we in the West have gotten it terribly wrong with our teachings of individualism.

We spent a lot of time just walking around the fiends learning about how rice is grown. And enjoying observing God's artwork. Here are a few pictures...again they really don't do it justice.

We then headed back to the village to have dinner. And once again I was struck with the fact that much of Thailand is a mix of old and new. Around Chiang Mai it is not uncommon to see people working the fiends by hand (the way they used to before machines) right next to shopping malls. And here in the village the same is true. At one house we passed there was a HUGE satellite dish right in the front "lawn" of this simple looking house. Liz said that television has really begun to change aspects of village life. For example, meals used to be the time when the family came together. They would talk and tell stories. Now it is not uncommon to find them around the television. Sound familiar?

I know these people's lives are hard. They work literally all day in the fields, only to come home needing to complete chores and make dinner. However, I sometimes wonder if maybe their way of life is better. Simpler. How different my life is from the lives of these "B-people". They do not have many "things". They do not have a closet full of clothes. Or a new car. Or the newest iPod. But they are happy. They are generous. And brave. And beautiful. Seriously, I think they are the most beautiful people in the world.

And I began to wonder that if all I owned was taken from me, could I still be happy. Sure, I liked to believe that the "things" I own don't make me happy. That if it was all taken away, if I lived as they did with very few "things", I would still be content. But I wonder how much of that statement is true. And how much of it is just talk.

We then went and had dinner. It was delicious. And definitely the way to experience a meal. We all sat on the floor in a circle with big bowls of food in the center. It was really fun sitting in that home listening to them talk and hearing about Liz's experiences of working with these people. She has so much wisdom. And once again was thankful I was able to spend time soaking up the wisdom and advice from the missionaries here.

In other news: I climbed a mountain on Saturday with my friend Christa. Chiang Mai's Guardian Mountain to be exact. The final destination was Wat Phra That Doi Suthep...and the trail followed waterfalls all the way up. It took us five hours to complete...but probably should have taken us about three. That's another story for another time. I'll try to post picture from that adventure the next time I get the chance.

I hope this finds all of you doing well, where ever you are in the world.

Some of the day care kids the day I went to the Chiang Mai Zoo with them. The little boy in the orange shirt (on the right, second row), Som Sak, was my buddy. He's very energetic and talkative...it was an awesome day.

Umbrellas. We went to a place where we watched artists make this beautiful craft.
Christa, Kevin, Hannah, and I on the 4th.

Tristan and Cal getting ready to partake in the Watermelon Eating contest.

Cal got second. Tristan got third. We were all pretty proud... The whole group celebrating the 4th of July at the American Consulate...
in the middle of Chiang Mai.

Today is the first day of July.

Weird.

It's crazy how fast time goes.

Last night Mr. Veldt, Tristan, and I took a night drive up to the top of one of the tallest mountains in Chiang Mai. The view was amazing! You could see so far...and besides a few passing cars there was no one around. It was funny to think how busy and crazy the area bellow us was. And here we were up on this mountain almost completely alone. Away from all of the busy streets and noisy markets.

At one point we got out of the car and walked over this neat bridge. I thought the bridge would lead to a Wat (the name for the temples). However, it just lead to this neat field that dropped off over looking the city.

The only noises we could hear were crickets and frogs. No airplanes. No cars. No people. No music.

Just frogs. And crickets. Just creation singing a song of praise to it's Creator.

And we had the privilege of eavesdropping.

"The Lord reigns, let the earth be glad; let the distant shores rejoice. Clouds and thick darkness surround him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne. Fire goes before him and consumes his on every side. His lightning lights up the world; the earth sees and trembles. The MOUNTAINS melt like wax before the Lord, before the Lord of all the earth. The heavens proclaim his righteousness, and all the peoples see his glory."

~Psalm 97:1-6~

Since I have been in middle school I have been telling myself, as well as anyone who asked, that when I grew up I wanted to be a missionary. For the first time in my life I was ahead of everyone else my age in something. I was defiantly not the first to learn to read or to write. Or other things that kids usually succeed in early in life. However, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was so sure.

How can a 13 year old know what they want to be when they grow up? Well, sure, many kids have ideas, but I was certain.

You see, I had grown up in the Church. Grown hearing countless stories of those who have gone to distance lands. Those who have lived among people unlike them. Those who have been faced with eating strange foods. Those who have lived lives of adventure.

And even as an infant in my journey with the Lord, I knew that the reason all of those people lived they way they did...eating strange food...being away from home...learning to cope in a new environment...was because of love. Because of the love that God gave to them. Because of the love Christ showed to people when He walked this earth. Because of the love they had for other people. People just like them. People who messed up in life. And were lost. And were living in a state of brokenness. People who felt pain and joy. People who had dreams. And hopes. And people who wanted more than this world could offer.

Even in my small heart and mind, I understood that. And I knew that I wanted to be apart of that. Who was I to be selfish and not share with those people what I had found? I wanted to tell them about Jesus. Tell them that in Him they could find hope. And life.

Among that understanding and desire to spread the Gospel, there was still that appeal of adventure. Adventure that would take me around the world to unknown peoples with more interesting lives than my own. People with stories of living in the exciting jungle instead of the predictable Midwest.

It's only now that I think I'm beginning to understand just how much that desire for adventure blurred my view of reality. I desired the adventures a life overseas would bring more than I desired to show Christ's love. Once again (as it so often happens with me) my own wants and self-centered heart began to overshadow the Truth I knew. My view of life as a missionary became completely focused on the adventure that it promised to bring. And for a while I forgot the reason all of those people chose to live that way. I forgot that it was because of love. And suffering. And the desire to make Christ known to all peoples and nations.

But, the funny thing about growing up and learning about the world, is that along with all of the amazing things in this world (all of the possible adventures), you also begin to learn about all of the sad things as well. You start to learn about war and poverty. About hunger and diseases. About pain and suffering. About selfish governments and harsh leaders. About hopelessness. And you begin to understand there are no easy answers. That many of those problems are connected and effect other problems. And those things...the things that are in this world because of our searching for something other than God that will make us happy (as C.S. Lewis so beautifully states)...are the things that reminded me of the need for Christ in this broken world. This learning reminded me that the main goal of the Christian life should be to tell people about freedom they can find in Christ.

However, learning about the sad things in the world can also begin to weigh down dreams. These things can plant seeds in one's mind about not being gifted or talented enough to deal with and overcome the hard and terrible things in this world.

As I have been learning about the suffering in this world, I have found myself sinking into the pattern of panic. Panic because I don't see how my gifts can help deal with and help those that need help.

And with that panic comes doubt. I began to doubt what I was so sure of back in the seventh grade. I find myself doubting that I can live a life of a missionary. Because, let's face it, I've had a pretty easy life. I've grown up with two parents who love me unconditionally and are always looking out for my best interest. I've grown up in a suburb of America where I've never had to worry about running out of food. Or if the water I'm drinking is safe. I've grown up going to school and I'm now at a great university. I have never gone through the experience of losing someone close to me. How can I possibly relate to and help those whose lives are different than mine? How can I help those who have experienced things I can't even imagine?

That was what part of the summer was supposed to be. Exploring the ways God is working in the world. Exploring different types of ministries. Exploring how my passions and gifts could possibly be used by God in this world to bring love and hope and peace to his suffering children.

But since arriving, I have felt no closer to discovering that than from when I left. Sure, I have been able to explore the ways that God is working and see different types of ministries. And though those things I have become more aware of God. More aware of his love. And mercy. And goodness. I have been encouraged and humbled by the Church in Cambodia...for their joy and contentment in Christ when they have so little in the world's eyes. I learned much from talking to missionaries in many different types of ministry. And, here too, I have been encouraged through their stories of God's faithfulness. And I have finally been able to see what living as a full time ministry is actually like on a day to day basis. (Of course, I know that this is drastically different depending on the type of work one is in and where one lives, among other factors).

However, up until today I was feeling restless about finding how the gifts and passions God has given me can be used for his glory. There have been many times over the past month when I have wished that God had given me the skills and passion for medicine. It has been so evident that there is a need for doctors and nurses around the world. So many ways to use those gifts.

And I've also seen ways teachers can be used overseas for God's kingdom. And, again, I have found myself picturing my life as a teacher overseas...telling myself that's it's ok that I'm not passionate about it. That it's ok to sacrifice the "passion factor" because there is a obvious place teachers can play in full-time ministry. However, I do believe that as Christians we are called to be people of passion. Passionate about loving God and loving people. And I believe that God made us as a body in order to express that love in different, unique ways.

Today I met a lady who works with an NGO called Partners Relief & Development. This organization works with Karen refugees from Burma. It was refreshing to hear about her organization because the needs went beyond doctors and teachers. I began to see how my gifts could fit into full-time ministry. She told us about her work and as she talked, it became so evident how passionate she was about her work and serving the Lord through her work.

And I found myself realizing that it's wrong of me to think I need to settle for something that I don't love. And it's wrong for me to look at myself and count my shortcomings, asking God why he didn't gift me in certain ways. I have spent too much time trying to convince God of what I should do when I "grow up".

And one of the most amazing things I have been learning is that amongst all of the pain, there is hope. One of the great things about God is that he can work beyond our shortcomings. We don't have to have all the answers and solve the problems of this world. All we need to do is allow God to guide our steps, trust Him to use us as he intends, and love Him and others.

It is in our weaknesses and inadequate lives that He is glorified even more!

One of my favorite things about summer is that I finally have time to read. I mean really read. I read all the time at school...and most of the time I really enjoy my reading. Who wouldn't want to read Ethnographies? Some of you may think I'm being sarcastic...but I'm not. I really do enjoy most of my reading for classes. For example: I was given the opportunity to read a research paper (similar to ones from my Social Research class) an intern from some school in Canada wrote for the NGO I'm working with. About child protection policies. Like why they are needed, ways different organizations have written their policies, and best of all, the importance of understanding the culture and cultural tendencies of the people you are trying to protect.

However, in the summer I have time to read books that are not covered in my classes curriculum's. Such as children's books. And memoirs. And historical fiction. Michael Jones, a good friend of mine and my (sadly) ex-CPO boss, has been suggesting different books for me to read for quite sometime now. Among the suggestions have been books about great men in the Christian faith, who at different points in history have lived miraculous lives for Christ.

Hannah handed me God's Smuggler by Brother Andrew a few days ago and insisted on me reading it. She has read it four times...maybe more. It is the story of Brother Andrew, a man who smuggled Bibles across the Iron Curtain. He never relied on his own cleverness or strength for anything. There are stories upon stories telling readers of the times when God showed his faithfulness to Brother Andrew and those surrounding his life. Often times while reading, the accounts were so miraculous that I found it hard to believe. I would find my self wondering, "oh...come on...that is crazy...how could the boarder guards not see those Bibles...they are sitting on the seat in plain daylight..." Brother Andrew brings up the point many times that it is instances such as this that we see God's work the clearest. Brother Andrew prays many times that just as the Lord made blind eyes see while he was on earth, that he would make seeing eyes blind when bring the illegal material into different countries.

I was struck over and over again by the faith and dependence Brother Andrew placed in the Lord. I am praying that the Lord would allow me to trust Him like that. And that no matter how little or how much of the future is clear to me that I would obey what I hear Him telling me to do in the present. As Brother Andrew says, " That's the excitement in obedience. Finding out later what God had in mind." It's encouraging to know that we in the here and now are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, whom have experience the surpassing joy of life following Christ...such as those talked about in Hebrews 11, Brother Andrew, and many others.

I encourage all of you to read this story if you haven't before. As for me...I think I try to read about George Muller. Or Hudson Taylor. Or whatever book I can find first.