A trip down memory lane

Feeling nostalgic, I started reading through my old posts from my first year teaching in Thailand, and it nearly brought tears to my eyes -- both tears of joy and longing.  I'm incredibly grateful that I had taken the time to record some of the day to day occurrences while I still had the chance.  Looking back at that time (especially when living in Asia was so new), there's no way for me to post-record some of my memories.  I'll still relay some of my experiences in places I visited, things I've done, places I stayed at (posterity reasons), but nothing will replace the fresh memory of moments with locals, students, colleagues, and the random stranger.  As years made the strange eventually familiar, my posts grew further apart, until there were literally years between posts.  I wish I recorded more of my first moments in Seoul, Korea in 2016. Instead of taking time for blogging, I used other social media platforms to convey the quick moments -- Facebook and Instagram -- but nothing can replace the online journal, as laboriously relay snapshots of my life overseas.

While I do not make New Year's resolutions, I feel a need to declare my desire to write more often.  Although "Hell is paved with good intentions," I feel secure in the knowledge that I am not on my way there.  However, the sentiment is not lost on me -- intentions without action are meaningless.  I will strive not to be meaningless with these intentions.

Some of my favorite memories I've read through involve my interactions with my beloved students (particularly my first class) -- that are now all adults -- but they sure were the cutest 8th graders I have ever had the privilege of teaching.  They taught me how to laugh, forgive, relax, and love like no other.
I poured myself into my first class of 8th graders.  It was my first year teaching, the first class I could intentionally influence, and they had a mind of their own! They had a living charisma, a personality I have never seen since.  Granted, each class after them also had their own distinct personality, but nothing like my 8th grade class from 2010-11.  Did I have favorites? Absolutely.  This entire class was my favorite out of all the classes I taught.  I could also say that about other classes for very different reasons.  But they were my first love.  I speculate it is similar to a mother who tells all her children they are each favorites.  But a first-born....they have a special place simply for being first.  A mother's love does not divide among her children, it multiplies.  And I continued to love each class that came after my first, continued to hone my teaching skills based on previous classes.

One day, hopefully soon, I will find my favorites and laugh over the ridiculous antics that took place in the classroom.  I hope above all hope that they don't grow up too much.  We all need to remember what made us laugh with abandon. <3 br="">

The road I never thought I'd travel

"A man plans his course, but the Lord directs his steps."

Prov. 16:9

I've told and retold this story so many times in person, it's about time I write it down.  This post gives you some background about when I decided to leave the education field and enter missions.  For now I'll be sharing more about the plunge into missions and how you can be a part of that.

Lesvos sunset, 2018

God first introduced me to refugees wayyyy back in 2010 when He brought me to Bangkok, Thailand.  I had agreed to help a coworker teach English to a large Pakistani family, and we ended up growing close over the next two years.  We were no longer just teachers and students.  We became a family during those two years.  I shared what I could about American culture to help prepare them for a life in the States.  They in turn shared their warm culture with us and their delectable culinary skills.

I wished I could devote more time to working with refugees, however, I couldn't figure out realistically how that would work.  I was teaching full time, after all.  I had to earn a living, didn't I?

I was wrong.

If I truly was relying on God to handle  my finances and future then I would have realized that I could devote myself to His work and not worry about financial stability (Phil. 4:6-7, Matt. 6:25-34).  The truth of the matter was, I needed to live my life as though I believed what God said in His Word -- after all, faith without deeds is dead (James 2:17).

In June of 2017, while volunteering with Lighthouse Relief, I was sitting on a rocky beach on a Greek island when I finally submitted to His will. And it was a relief.  I was struggling with teaching and I knew it.  God new it.  Ever since my time in Bangkok, I felt deep inside that I was headed toward something big.  Little did I realize it meant changing careers and moving to another country on another continent.  That's the beauty of God's plan -- it is far grander than anything we could imagine for ourselves, and will ultimately take a route we never saw coming.  I couldn't believe I was seriously considering quitting teaching.  At first I was startled, but I was immediately flooded with peace.

I was brimming with excitement.  This meant I could now devote all my time to working along side refugees without feeling like I should have a "real" job (i.e.: earn a salary).  So by June 2018 I headed back to Oregon without a definite time frame for heading into the mission field or what exactly I would be doing with refugees.  I had been in contact with Greater Europe Mission (GEM) since January, and was accepted as a one-year intern.  My plan has been to work as a substitute teacher in my hometown while I raise a year's worth of financial support.

Then in the month of August (before the school year really kicked off), I had the opportunity to go on a vision trip to Athens and the island of Lesvos to check out the ministry opportunities available.  I am so incredibly grateful for this trip!  Lesvos had my heart since I first volunteered last year.  I wanted to stay open to where God would led me, but if I were honest, I was pretty set on returning to the mission field on Lesvos.  But then God showed me the overwhelming work that needed to be done in Athens.  The families that want to integrate into Greek life.  The minors who are trying to reunite with their families.  The divide between Greeks and refugees caught in limbo.

And it broke me.

Even after my visit with the mission team on Lesvos, I was hesitant to give up my dream of returning to the island.  I desired Lesvos for selfish reasons, and sensed God was not drawing me there.  If I truly cared for the Kingdom, then I would have to be obedient to His calling.  He would take care of Lesvos with people He was equipping.  I am so thankful that God has brought me such peace through this entire decision-making process.  Although the need in Athens is great, two ministries in particular caught my eye, and can be found in this post.

Lesvos sunrise, 2018

"Now you are the body of Christ, and each of you are a part of it."

1 Cor. 12:27

It has not been easy, but God has been gracious.  I have never had to raise support of this magnitude before, so asking for financial support when I have always been self sufficient has been a humbling experience.  However, I also know, and have been reminded several times, that God equips certain people to go and certain people to stay.  Those He sends out of their home country are not alone, but are one part of the whole body of Christ.  We cannot all be proverbial feet, or ears, or eyes (1 Cor. 12:12-27) -- this was something I had to come to terms with.  I was not a failure if I couldn't do it all. God never expected us to be able to do everything.  And He never expected us to be everywhere.

Ultimately, His lesson is clear: we all work as one body.  All I can do is trust others to do what they are called to do, and support them as much as possible.

This is where you come in.  As I said, I cannot do this alone; which is why I am boldly asking you to join me on this venture.  If you have ever thought about ministering to asylum seekers and refugees, this is a wonderful opportunity for you! I need to raise $24,500 USD to live for one year in Greece, and I greatly need support!  I am confident God will supply this financial need.

Currently I am around 40% of my financial goal.  I would like to be in Greece by the end of January/beginning of February, however, I cannot set a 'launch date' until I have reached my goal; therefore these funds need to be in before the end of the year.

If you would like to make an end of the year donation, know that all financial contributions are tax deductible.  The best way to partner with me is through this link: www.gemission.org/missionaries/40130 and you may choose to make a one-time donation or become a monthly supporter.  This link operates similarly to a crowdfunding page, only it is directly through the GEM site.

Working with asylum seekers and refugees has weighed heavy on my heart for eight years.  Please consider helping this dream become a reality in the near future!  Let me know if you have any questions, and I will be happy to answer them!

-  Lissa 

On leaving my work in Asia behind

I struggle with the life I've left behind in Asia -- both in Bangkok and Seoul.  Naturally I miss many culture-specific things that I grew accustomed to.

 But this is not about reverse culture shock.  There will be other posts lamenting that ongoing struggle.  This is about guilt.  No matter how long I've been away, I cannot help but feel like somehow I quit. Somehow I gave up the race before crossing the finish line.  Somehow I didn't finish what I started.  Somehow. . . I lost.

Quitting carries such a negative connotation.  It implies giving up.  And giving up implies failure.  I don't want to fail at something I feel God has gifted me in.  I don't want to admit that everything I did overseas -- the countless hours invested in the classroom, in students' lives, in the lives of my coworkers -- was all for nothing.

But it wasn't for nothing.

Not a moment of it was.  I cherish the relationships I built with people during my time in Thailand and Korea.  I connect to places by the people I met there, and boy did God bless me with relationships!  Even the times I spent sitting in a classroom in a darkened hall trying to grade, prepare, lesson plan, set up, and sometimes even cry, taught me how to overcome obstacles and rise above challenges.  Sure, the work was difficult.  There was often too much for one day to handle.  But these were growing years, stretching years.  Interactions with friends and colleagues taught me much about myself.  I've had to eat humble pie more times than I can count.  I've had to learn to laugh at myself, and be gentle as I laughed at/with others.  I only pray these lessons stay with me as I drift through life.

But on days like today, I question my decision to leave Asia and teaching behind.  I doubt my decision to return to America.  I wonder if I gave up a good -- great, incredible, secure -- thing with people who have blessed my life immeasurably.  My gut clenches every time I think about sunny days in Asia: lounging on Thailand beaches, roaming the streets of Seoul, exploring incredible nature, laughing at yet another situation where foreigners collide with everyday Asian culture.  Not to mention gathering with friends every chance we got, creating music together, discovering another restaurant, sharing our struggles as believers and foreigners, connecting with students and sharing real life with them in ways I've never done in America.  And still my gut clenches because all the things I struggled and cried over don't hurt nearly as much as the things I rejoiced in now that I left them behind.  If I make a list of my blessings, they would far outweigh the difficulties, as insurmountable as they seemed at the time.

Oddly, the job that brought me to Asia is the one currently sustaining me.  I haven't quit teaching cold turkey.  I substitute teach middle and high school and enjoy it for the most part.  It reminds me that I could still teach.  If I wanted to.  Although it's not consistent work, it is work I can do, then leave behind when the bell rings.  No staying late grading.  No lesson planning.  Some teachers leave me fantastic lesson plans where things are laid out -- and sometimes I can actually teach (instead of playing a video)!  Others expect me to teach their class without any direction.  It can be frustrating sometimes, but the work is very flexible, and I am thankful.  However, I am still left with that feeling in the pit of my stomach.

God moved me from Asia, and I chose to follow willingly.  I do not know the future.  But He has given me a new direction and purpose.  I know this to be true with a resolution I can only account to faith.  Although that doesn't stop me from looking over my shoulder into the past, my only hope is to learn from what is behind me and press forward.

Who knows?  Perhaps He will bring me back to teaching.  Perhaps He will bring me back to Asia.  For now I find peace in knowing He is preparing me for a very different future than I have ever imagined.  And I cannot quit.

AIR CANADA

Reasons I will never purposefully fly Air Canada

- Operates like a budget airline
- 7am-2:30pm flight: no in-flight meal served; for purchase only.  At least they served me water!
- 1st flight: Entertainment system did not work for several rows (mine included)
- Overhead lights stop working
- 2nd flight (international): no entertainment system at all; must download app while in WiFi
- Minimal overhead storage for carry-ons for a pan-Atlantic flight - less space than most regular airlines
- Thin, cheaply constructed seats that are packed in; no adjustable headrest
- No USB charging
-*this flight was supposed to be operated by Lufthansa, but for no apparent reason, was switched to Air Canada. I would have rather flown with Lufthansa!

      

A couple Greek churches and their AMAZING impact

Back in September of this year, I had the chance to go on a vision trip to Athens and the island of Lesvos to check out the different refugee ministries that GEM partners with.

Athens in relation to Lesvos

In total, I visited five different ministries, but two particular ones in Athens caught my eye. This is a true testament to churches pouring themselves into reaching a people in need...

The first one is called Faros.  Faros, in Greek, means "lighthouse".  This ministry sprang up from a small church plant in the Exarchia neighborhood in Athens, and has grown tremendously! They focus mainly on refugee women and unaccompanied minors.  They run a day center for women to come and receive services and resources as they are living in Athens. Women can take language classes, get care for their toddlers/infants, shower, and speak to a number of different representatives from other organizations, including Doctors without Boarders.

Another facet of their ministry focuses on unaccompanied minors.  They have a shelter that can house up to 22 boys between the ages of 10-16 as they seek to reunite them with their family.  A vocational center sprung out of the shelter to meet the needs of these boys.  Through it, they teach young boys vocational skills they can take with them anywhere.  They have caught the eye of MIT, who is now partnering with them as volunteers teach crucial skills such as: carpentry, science/technology, tailoring/sewing, language lessons, etc. They are also hoping to open up the 2nd floor of the building for women, and build a similar program.  I am most excited about this center! I'd love to put my background as a teacher to good use! I know I'm not meant to put my teacher self in a box on a high shelf, it will always be a part of me, but it's going to take a different form.  I can't wait to see what that form is!

Bunk in the shelter

Sewing room in the Vocational Center

 Further evidence that the Exarchia church is investing everything into refugee ministry is shown through their actual church building.  They converted their church offices into temporary apartments for refugee families while the families work on integration and assimilation into Greek life.  Through their integration program, the families work with a social worker to get proper documentation so they can find stable work and their own housing.

The second ministry is a family integration home, called At Home Project, started by a church in Glafada, a town just south of Athens.  The purpose of this home is to assist refugee families as they integrate into Greek life.  This integration home is very similar to the one run by Faros, only At Home Project has the capacity to house more families and allow them to stay longer.  Refugee families are given about a year of living in a shared apartment with other families as they begin the integration process.  The apartment also has a small library and a clothing/baby supply distribution room to assist the families while they are living there.  Although a Greek social worker helps the families with all the official paperwork that needs to be processed, the Glafada church needs someone to be in the home regularly to build strong relationships with them, and help advise/encourage the family through the process.  They would also like someone to teach English to the families (which is right up my alley!).

One thing is clear with both ministries: they reach out by forming genuine relationships with those they are serving.  I do not speak Greek or Farsi.  I cannot assist with any legal documentation.  But both churches seek to form strong bonds with these families and build trust.  It is only through these relationships can Christ's love be shared.  It is not about proselytizing; preying on the vulnerable in their time of need. It is about reflecting the love of Christ. It is about sharing hope and light in a place plagued by darkness and hopelessness.

What NOT to donate

I get it.

We want to be helpful to others - especially when we have a very abundant closet. We can spare last season's fashion for people who find themselves with very little.  The reality is, some of our donations go to waste.  And when you spend hundreds of dollars shipping clothing and other items around the globe, only for half of those items to be deemed useless to the very people you are trying to aid, it makes one wonder who you are ultimately helping.  Please think about who you are trying to help as you are gathering clothing to donate.


Before I go through the types of donations I've seen that are useless, I should preface this by saying I'm coming at this from a refugee NGO standpoint.  Donations are sent world-wide for a number of reasons -- natural disasters, governmental crisis, sudden economic shortages, etc. The most common donation collections these days are for those suffering from natural disasters (as seen by the 2010 earthquake in Haiti or the 2013 typhoon in the Philippines), and the refugee crisis (donations concentrating mostly in Europe despite less than 1% of world-wide refugees crossing into Europe). So as you consider helping refugees, please remember to think about them as people, not a faceless mass who will gladly wear your clothes.



It is vital to understand the people you are trying to help.  Do not simply throw clothing and items into boxes willy-nilly and ship them off.  Here are a few things to consider as you start packing up a few boxes:

1. If you're answering a call for donations by a particular NGO or other organization, ask them directly what their most desperately needed items are.  I've meet too many people who offhandedly remark, "Oh, they'll take anything"...."beggars can't be choosers".... and "they'll take what they can get."  After working very closely within an NGO (specifically in the donations department), I can tell you first hand how ignorant and flippant such remarks are.
Why waste hundreds of dollars/euros/etc. on shipping boxes of clothes/items that are just going to be stored in the-land-that-time-forgot because not even the NGO has any idea how to pawn off these yard sale discards.
2. Know who your donations are going to.  Know the demographics, know the culture, even try to understand their religious affiliation.  This will undoubtedly alter what you give.  The asylum seekers crossing into Europe are mostly from the Middle East (Afghanistan, Syria, Iran, Pakistan) and Africa (Congo, Algeria, Somalia, Eritrea, etc.).  It goes without saying that these are conservative cultures.  I am still flummoxed by some of the completely inappropriate clothes that are shipped over!

1. Please send functional clothes and other items specifically requested by the organization you are donating through. Durable tops, bottoms, shoes are great! New baby bottles and formula are also welcome items.
2. Do NOT donate clothing that has obscene/inappropriate language/symbols on it.  No matter what organization you are donating to, the people who are receiving them still deserve dignity, so be cognizant of what you would want to wear if in the same situation.  I've seen shirts with figures giving the world the finger, pinup girls in compromising positions, and this...
   

   

   1) All people see is TERRORIST in bold 2) There's no way I would hand this to a Middle Eastern refugee
3. If the organization requests a particular size of clothing, please only send that.  The NGO knows the demographics, and knows the size of the people coming across the sea.  To be quite frank, they are not large.  Western donations are often rife with large-sized, well-intentioned donations that are unfortunately just being stored.  If you do not have the size requested, then perhaps consider purchasing the clothing.

   Shoe sizes are also important to keep in mind.  European size 44+ isn't as needed, so please be aware before tossing your giant basketball shoes into the box.
4. Another reason they are requesting a particular size is because they have a surplus of other sizes and do not have the space or the use for other sizes.  Donation warehouses are not large, and are only meant to store items temporarily before being handed out.  It is best to send sizes that are requested so that they are not sitting in a room somewhere and can be given out to those who need them most.
5. Lingerie is completely useless to a refugee.  Understand that they will probably be living in a camp, and such luxuries are unnecessary and useless. There is often no distinction between 'night clothes' and 'day clothes'. To further make this point, clothing that is distinctly pajamas is also unnecessary.  They will most likely wear sweatpants/leggings both to bed and during the day.

   

   The nightie fashionistas!

6. Ball gowns/night club dresses, high heels, and three-piece suits also have no place in your donation box.  Where do you think they'll be using them?? This speaks to both functionality and culture.  Women from these cultures will never wear strapless, body-hugging cocktail dresses.  They will be walking on dirt/gravel, so high heels/strappy shoes are more than useless.  And while it's a nice gesture to donate a three-piece suit, something that nice shouldn't be worn in these conditions.

                           
   
   
7. Dresses are welcome, but please think of who will be wearing them.  Light fabric with long sleeves with a skirt that goes at least to the knees (or longer) is perfect.  While dresses with a low neckline or thin strapped sleeves could be layered with a long-sleeved shirt underneath, it is much easier to give women a proper dress/tunic that fits their conservative standards. Heavy woolen dresses don't work well -- even in the winter.
8. Booty shorts/mini-skirts cannot be used.  I stare at these boxed items and imagine the horror on the face of a young woman who just risked her life crossing the sea, only to be handed a pair of shorts to change into because her jeans are soaked through.  It ain't happening.  Trust me.  Cultural sensitivity will go a long way as you are packing up your donation box!

   
   
9. Camisoles, tank-tops, and tube-tops also have no place in a refugee camp for the same reason.
   

         3. If these items you're donating aren't good enough for you to use, they probably won't be for others either.

1. Used clothing is completely welcome as long as it is not thread-bear, ripped, stained, missing zippers/buttons.
  Please understand, it's not about simply clothing them, it's also about allowing them some dignity in what they wear as well.
2. To reiterate, ripped/stained clothing or broken items is not acceptable. It's not worth it for anyone. Whenever I find ripped clothing as I sort through donations, I toss them out, and you should too. NGOs are stretched so thin, they do not have time to mend these clothes once they arrive.

   

   

   This isn't even the worst of what I've seen; just the quickest example I could find.
   
3. The same goes for shoes -- if the sole is falling off, why are you sending it? If the shoes require laces, please be considerate to send shoes with laces on them.  I'm always puzzled whenever I come across lace-less shoes since these cannot be distributed.
   Also, please take an extra 5-10 minutes cleaning off the mud caked on tennis shoes and work boots before shipping it over.  We know these shoes are still usable, but again, they may not be dignified to hand out.

     4. Please wash your clothes before sending them! This is also true for anything you donate.
 
     5. It would be AMAZING if the clothing was sorted and labeled beforehand.  I've spent countless hours sorting through boxes of donations.  The donations are great - don't get me wrong! - but it would save us tons of time on the receiving end if the box already has the gender, size, and other specifications (long/short sleeve, trousers/shorts, etc.) written down somewhere on the box. Don't sweat it if you don't have time; this is just a helpful tip from a donation sorter. :)

The last suggestion I will make concerns money.  Oftentimes we might shy away from "throwing money at a situation"  because we want to be more impactful.  But when considering where we are shipping items, it usually costs more to ship than the actual worth of the items being shipped.  Sending money to an organization (especially a grassroots NGO), does far more good than you realize...

1. It helps the organization purchase the specifically needed items much quicker than waiting for a box to come in the mail. 
2. It is far more cost-effective since all the money would go to the organization instead of shipping. 
3. It supports the local economy that is most affected by the refugee crisis.  This is more vital than you may realize.  Speaking for Greece in particular, their economy is already struggling without the added weight of trying to support the thousands of refugees that cross the boarder every year.  By sending money to NGOs working in Greece, they are able to purchase items in-country and perhaps improve the perception of the NGOs and refugees in particular.

For some organizations, it is possible to specify how you want the donated money to be allocated. If you are concerned that the money may not be used appropriately (or mismanaged), I encourage you to speak directly to members of that organization, coordinators of the operation, and the volunteers themselves.  Grassroots NGOs are often struggling to make ends meet while still meeting the needs of the people they are assisting.  They are often forced to get creative using sub-par methods simply because the funds are not there.  Volunteers themselves are not only donating their time, but their money because they believe so soundly in what the organization is trying to do.  Believe me, any amount of money goes a long way here! One of the best ways to do this is by managing your own go-fund-me type of campaign, and contacting the organization when you're ready to make a transfer to them directly.


If you're curious, I volunteer with Lighthouse Relief on Lesvos, Greece.  I was here last summer and it was literally life-changing. Operations on Lesvos are emergency response, assisting with landings of those who arrive at the north shore from Turkey. Lighthouse Relief also operates on the mainland with the Ritsona camp through Child Friendly Space (CFS) and Youth Engagement Space (YES).

If you would like to know more about Lighthouse Relief, donate, or volunteer, please see their website: http://www.lighthouserelief.org

Americans...

I've been living overseas too long.

The sight and sound of so many Americans in one place is disconcerting.  All I can do is sit back and observe, how loud they are, how upfront they are, and how completely comfortable they feel around each other. The confidence they show around one another and in any given situation is fascinating. They're not obnoxious when they're loud, that's just how they are; it shows their confidence. I just don't know how to respond in kind in such a situation. I know how to be loud in my own circle of friends (and usually in private), but being in public is another matter.

I feel introspective whenever I see Americans outside of America; like an outsider watching a new culture.  But isn't that telling?  Have I been gone too long that I don't know how to be "American"?  Even now, after being in Oregon for over a month, interacting with local, everyday Americans on a daily basis is jarring. I still feel like an outsider.


Perhaps it's because I am.

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men."

So...this is a blog draft that I found from 2014 that was never published.  Am I four years too late? Nah. I like to think of it as aging like fine wine.  I don't know what four year old wine tastes like to be honest, but I'd like to imagine it's better than one hour wine, so here you go...

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men."

Sure, you may recognize these lyrics from the popular Les Miserables musical, but here in Bangkok it has a whole new meaning.  In the throes of the Bangkok Shutdown, protesters have taken up these lines as their mantra; relating their struggles with the corrupt Thai government to the French Revolution.  Does it work?  Meh.  Is it a cool song to sing?  Definitely.

Banner near the Asok intersection

I won't even attempt to make sense of Thai politics or the Bangkok Shutdown, but the gist of what I've gathered is this:  PM Yingluck tried to pass an amnesty bill that would allow her exiled brother Thaksin (former PM and responsible for embezzling the equivalent to millions of dollars from the government), to return to Thailand fully pardoned.  This, of course, sparked cries of outrage from anti-government supporters who have merely tolerated Yingluck's office, believing that she has been controlled by her brother this whole time. 

Before continuing, it's important to know the color-coded protesters.  The red-shirts are considered the pro-government supporters and are comprised mainly of the poor to middle working class and rural inhabitants.  The yellow-shirts are supposedly anti-government protesters.  "Anti-government" doesn't mean they are anarchists who don't want to be ruled by a government; they are simply tired of the current government and want to elect new officials.  Coincidentally, yellow is the king's color and so the yellow-shirts are seen to rally behind him; however, the king has chosen to remain neutral.  So has the military.

Standing in honor of the Thai national
anthem at Asok intersection

Protesters at Asok intersection

Except when a military coup enforced a curfew. The curfew came at the end of May (the above picture was taken in February I believe), and caused city-wide panic.  Since the curfew was announced in the afternoon instructing all people in the Bangkok metro area to be indoors by 9pm, businesses, restaurants, grocery stores, and entertainment venues rushed to shut down in order to allow their employees enough time to get home.  Even then, traffic was gridlocked, and the skytrain was jam-packed with Thais fearful that they couldn't make it home in time.  What made it worse was that even taxis refused to take customers since they also had to be home by 9pm.
The curfew was then lifted to 11pm a week later.  I was still quite anxious, however, because I had booked my flight to the States well before the curfew was enacted, and it was a 6am flight.  With taxis unable to drive at 3am, I would have to get a taxi ridiculously early, and spend the night in the airport.  Thankfully another week later, it was lifted to 1am; still too early for my flight, but much more manageable.

The purpose of the curfew was to put an end to the protesters out in the streets at all hours of the night.  As you can see from the photos above, they literally blocked entire major intersections and camped out in the middle of the road on mats and in tents.  Most protesting was actually a joyous occasion for the Thais - other than blocking intersections, they were fairly orderly.  They set up a huge stage at the Asok intersection, and in between speakers, they used the stage to host concerts to keep people's spirits high in the midst of the tension and heat.  In fact, most of the clashes didn't erupt between the red and yellow shirts, but between the police and protestors.  Tear gas was sprayed into the midst of rallies in order to force them to dissipate.  Protesters retaliated with rocks and bottles.  But overall, the protests remained relatively peaceful.
The media, on the other hand, made it seem as though Bangkok was in complete anarchy.  Over 45 countries posted advisories on their embassy's website, warning citizens of the dangers of visiting Thailand.  As a Bangkok resident, I can heartily say, I have never felt unsafe in this city.  While foreigners have been warned to stay away from the protesting sites, which is easy to do, my life remains vastly unchanged through this "Bangkok Shutdown".  All this to say definitively that I am extremely safe in the midst of this nation's upheaval.

When God calls....and I take eight years to answer

It’s time to let the cat out of the bag.  It hasn’t been a secret, but I also haven’t been openly sharing with everyone - especially with people outside this tiny peninsula of mine.  Friends, I made the decision almost a year ago to leave the teaching field - possibly for good.

    May 30th will be my last official day with students.  June 8 will be my last official day as a teacher. I am planning on making the rocky transition into the missional/humanitarian field, working with refugees in Europe.  I say rocky because the path is entirely uncertain. This is my “plan” - but we all know what God does with our plans. I only hope I am not too blind to see how He directs my next steps.  To say that I feel ‘called’ is an understatement. The idea has slowly rooted itself into my soul and lay dormant for years while living in Asia, before igniting into a fire that cannot be ignored or snuffed out.  I had often kidded that I would love to go into the humanitarian sector full time if only I had a husband who could support me financially in the process (we all know humanitarianism is not a cash cow).

    Well, God did not provide me with a husband.  He did, however, provide me with a purpose. A purpose that quickens my heart, keeps me up at night with anticipation and longing, and makes my current ‘purpose’ pale in comparison.  Two years ago I prayed in earnest that God allow me to be His hands and feet. It has been the prayer of my heart while living in Korea. I was scared of such a prayer in Thailand for the petty reason that He would take me seriously when I wasn’t sure how He’d use me.  This only highlights my insecurities when I’m not in control. Those inhibitions have long since fallen away. The excuses I made for why I wasn’t ready to be His hands and feet seem ridiculous in light of who my God is. If He is almighty, He will take care of me. He is a father that will not give stones when his child asks for bread.

    And so the true adventure of trust began when I released all hold on my future. I made the decision to leave teaching in August, 2017 with no plans of coming back.  I purposely did not look for teaching positions abroad or in the States when October/November rolled around. I did not try to renew my contract at my current school. I did begin a fevered search for NGOs working specifically with refugees.  I researched Christian organizations associated with refugees. I filled out an application to join UNHCR, despite being totally unqualified. Needless to say, I never heard back from them.  And I reluctantly began exploring the possibility of becoming a missionary.

I’ve shied away from that term my whole life.  I always thought missionaries were trained as missionaries. They attended seminary school, they had a deep theological background, and they were the equivalent of homeschool kids - just as adults.  Images of remote villages without running water, and the sound of languages I would never truly understand caused me both panic and despair at my own feeble limitations.  I consider myself an outdoors person, but I can only handle ‘roughing it’ for about a week. It is not a lifestyle choice I would willingly choose to make. But that’s not the life of a missionary, is it? Missionaries exist in urban settings  just as much as rural ones; first-world nations, as well as developing ones. Missionaries are both introverts and extroverts. Some have the ability to learn languages easily, others struggle for years just to have conversational capabilities.  Some work within a team, while others are called to minister alone.

Over the summer I had a list of questions God had asked me repeatedly that I always responded with a resounding NO.  But by the end of the summer, I ran out of excuses. God reassured me on every point that those don’t matter if He is looking out for me.

    - Am I okay with leaving the teaching field?

    - Am I okay with not making stable money?

    - Am I okay with not planning my future 8 months in advance?

    - Am I okay with going back to Oregon while I figure out the transition into humanitarian work?

    - Am I okay with an unpredictable future?

    For someone who craves control, God was ultimately asking if I was willing to allow Him total control of my life.  I ran out of excuses. I ran out of a life plan. The only place to look was Christ and His wondrous plan. He was still waiting for me.  Waiting to begin His work in my life. Waiting to launch me on the ultimate adventure of faith. And I finally said yes.

    So Oregon it is for the next six months (hopefully) as I do the one thing that missionaries have in common: raise financial support.  I’m partnering with a mission sending agency and beginning a one year mission with them as I sort out what it means to be the hands and feet of God.  How long will this venture last? I have no idea. But I know He has something incredible in store for me. Eight days in Lesvos was enough for Him to break through my excuses to ultimate surrender.  It wasn’t torturous. It was a relief to finally say yes.  Because it means I don’t have to control every step of my life anymore. As independent as I am, I get tired making life decisions, I truly do. Now He can make them for me, and I know there won’t be any wrong decisions this time.

Skala Sikaminas harbor, Lesvos, Greece

    I realize I never got to the moment that God turned my heart around - it was on a rocky beach in Lesvos - but I will share some of my experiences in my next post.  This is a huge step into the unknown for me. I am excited, cautious, and yet filled with peace. As though this was God’s plan all along, and I am just now realizing where I need to be.  These next several months of limbo may actually be the hardest part of transition; what with reverse culture shock, moving back into my childhood home, and figuring out support-raising. For now, I ask for prayer.  That is what will get me through everything.