Dirty Feet.

Thailand, April 2010.

My babies.

So here I am. Thailand. I have been here for 20 days now. I am attempting to formulate words for what has occurred thus far, and it is proving to be difficult. Let’s start from the beginning…

I arrived in Bangkok, Thailand on March 27, 2010. After a 17-hour plane ride, one feels dazed and dirty, having inhaled recycled airplane air for far too long. By this time, I had said goodbyes to those I love, been crammed in a tiny seat in the lovely economy class and had a small breakdown of tears on the flight. There was a movie on the flight about a man and his dog, in which the man ends up tragically dying. The dog goes back everyday to a train station to greet his owner who is no longer there. I sobbed. In the middle of the night, with my headphones in, sitting next to a little Filipino girl who is staring at me while I cry. It wasn’t just the movie that did it.

The revelation of what I was doing had finally, fully hit me. I had bought a $900 plane ticket, quit my job of 6 years and was about to move to the other side of the world for 3 months. What in the Lord’s good name was I doing? I know we’re supposed to be obedient to God’s call, but this was ridiculous. I had known I was doing this since probably September of last year, however, it took me getting on that plane to comprehend what I had said yes to. But that is what the call of God is. It’s inconvenient. It’s not comfortable or fun all the time, but in that, true heart changes happen and God is able to move.

Back to the airport. I arrived and I was overwhelmed by the crowds and the fact that I could not read any of the signs around me. I was alone. The whole time I was walking through the airport, I was telling God that I needed Him. What if I cannot find my bag? What if no one comes to pick me up? What if I am abducted!? (Overactive imagination) I found my luggage and managed to haul it through the airport, realizing how nice it is to have a daddy to carry your cumbersome luggage. Finally, I found Debbie who picked me up and housed me until I went to live at the orphanage. Her driver was this tiny, Thai man named Santi who proudly displayed a golden buddha on his dashboard. Debbie was kind and hospitable, and an old friend of my grandmother. She helped me call my family from her cell phone after dialing what felt like 26 numbers. Ring…ring…ring. My mom answered. Hearing her voice made me realize that I will not see her in person for 3 months. I cried hard.

We arrived at Debbie’s house, tucked down a small alley filled with food vendors and street dogs. Her house was not what one would imagine, at least in that area. Gated, beautifully landscaped and very clean. Upon getting out of the car, a basset hound puppy came flopping up to my feet; Jack. Debbie’s daughter received him as a Christmas gift. I was already in love. After a quiet night and dinner at the Hard Rock cafe, I passed out at about 8pm. Then wide awake at 4am. Oh how I hated the time difference. The next morning, Debbie’s daughter had horseback riding lessons at a nearby equestrian center. There we met Angela, a German woman who worked there and was very involved at the orphanage. She’s very much a mom; I felt so comfortable around her.

That night we stayed at Angela’s home. She also had basset hounds so, needless to say, I was very entertained. We stopped by the supermarket to get food for my kitchen at the orphanage. What an different culture. I glanced at some lotions that claimed to “whiten” the skin. In the Thai culture, the whiter your skin, the more affluent or beautiful you are/look. I was thinking back to supermarkets at home with aisles of lotions claiming to tan the skin. We want to be darker, they want to be lighter. So interesting to see the different views on true beauty.

The next day we drove to drop off my stuff and look around the orphanage. Upon arrival, I felt the peace of God wash over me. This was God’s heart. Surrounded by vegetable gardens and an orchestra of birds, there stood the three-house complex called Chaiyapruk Children's Home. The name meant victory tree. We came at the resting time for the children, so I was only able to meet another volunteer, Gary, from Singapore and one of the older children, Nat. While meeting Nat, a tall 18 year old, I felt like I was being introduced to him as his future wife. Everyone was looking at us and smiling as if we are about to have an arranged marriage. A little awkward. I took off my flip flops to enter the cafeteria, adding my shoes to the multitudes of other shoes blocking the door. We toured the new bakery, the kitchen, the vegetable garden, the library, and lastly, my room. It was in a separate building about 20 feet from the children’s building and kitchen. I can already feel my feet are extremely dirty. Took shoes off again. It was time to check out my room. It was much nicer than I expected, very clean, organized, and equipped with 2 fans. Hallelujah. Dropped off my food in the small refrigerator, and it was time to go back to Angela’s. The next day I officially moved in and met all of the children. I went to sleep that night, encouraged by the visit to the orphanage and excited for what the next day would bring.

After figuring out how to get a cheap cell phone and internet access, we arrived (late) to the orphanage. It was Sunday. Church time. We walked into the small chapel-type building where there were many people singing old hymns in Thai. We were automatically noticed. I met Dr. Cleo and her husband, Somsak, the two doctors who run the orphanage. They are quite possibly the cutest couple on the face of the planet. They were Christian and radiate the love of God. Sundays were usually busy with visitors and church service, not to mention the only time the doctors were able to visit the home. The children called Dr. Cleo.... Mama. It’s beautiful. After a long day of people and introductions and moving, it was time for bed. There was no turning back now. This would be my bed for 3 months. This would be my extremely hot room, with only fans and a small shower to keep cool.

March 30. My first full day with the children and living at the home. Homesickness hit me. I called my family right when I woke up. Hearing their voices only made it worse. The pain of being away from all that I knew and the comforts of home and my loving family was more than I knew what to do with. I felt so selfish. I was here to love and serve these people and here I was, desperately close to buying a ticket home. I couldn't possibly do this. What was I thinking? No one here spoke English. I was alone. My feet were dirty. They ate rice for every meal. It was 110 degrees out and about 90% humidity. No. I don’t know why I signed up for this. But God is so good. He speaks even in the awkwardness and the pain and the homesickness. I then felt a small voice say to me, “I have sent you for a reason. My grace is sufficient.” I remembered I had asked for this. And He, like the amazing God He is, gave me the desires of my heart. It’s so easy to say you want to be a missionary. And dream up ideas of dramatic conversions and healings that begin when you arrive in the country. But to actually take the risk and do it. That takes a mighty work of God. I will not ever say I was strong enough to do that. I’m not. But He is. He saw my heart for this and prepared me before the trip. He sees me now, in the process of it, struggling but loving and leaning on Him. And best yet, He sees the end. It’s not for nothing that He chose me. I am not a fiery prophet or a bold evangelist. But I can love. And if the one lesson I learn out of all of this is to love more, then I consider this an incredibly rich experience. I am humbled by the fact that I GET to love these children. I have been loved, and now it is time to pour out that which I have received. Hearing their stories and seeing how each orphan has responded to life, challenges me to be bold in loving. I am beyond lucky to be able to have a family to miss. I am beyond blessed to have to make monthly payments on a new car. The things I once took for granted, I can now see that I have all that I need and then some. I want to love the unloved, to notice the ignored, to rescue the abandoned. What the enemy meant for evil, God WILL restore and redeem. And if I get to be a part of that, dirty feet included, then I am overjoyed.