I struggled for a while, thinking how to begin this post. I thought I would post something in April. After all, I had a wonderful Spring Break; I took a much-needed vacation with my dad to the beach in Phuket. Then I thought, with all the lessening of teaching in May, I would surely be able to post then. Maybe something fun about the differences between Thailand and the U.S. and all the little things I’ve had to get used to in my adopted country.
But I realized that a fun, cheery post would not do justice to the last two-and-a-half months of my life. Neither would a doom-and-gloom post. Because my life has existed in a place of paradox these past months.
I could focus on the negatives. My mom has been battling with jaw pain and the prolonged side effects of medicines ever since February. My grandmother passed away in April. A friend of mine struggled heavily with anxiety and depression. On top of that, I had to find my footing with teaching, a struggle which I discussed in other posts. I had days I just wanted to hide in my apartment and not come out.
Or, I could focus on the positives. I got to pet TIGERS. I went snorkeling in some of the most beautiful water I’ve ever seen. I got to see students make ACTUAL PROGRESS in their English reading, writing, and speaking. I’ve been in outdoor markets with the best food ever, and I now know how to navigate taxis enough not to die (or get ripped off). I learned another language! I made friends. I found a fantastic church. I have managed to make a living for myself, in a country not my own.
And both sides would be true.
Shortly after I arrived back in the U.S., a good friend gently asked me what one of my best moments from the last few months had been. At the time, I told her I didn’t know how to answer that. Life lived in a foreign country, often like life in our native countries, is often lived un-examined.
But after a few days, I realized that I did know how to answer her question.
Picture, if you will, a crowded chapel with rows of wooden pews. About 100 children sit (or squirm) in them. Their teachers squirm, too. It is the weekly Grade 1 and 2 chapel. We are all hot and tired.
I am sitting with the class of the teacher in charge of the chapel lesson that week. The lesson was short, so we are doing a few songs to end the time. I hear one of the students whisper, “Oh, it’s the stand song!”
The music plays. And I hear 100 tiny Thai babies sing the following:
https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=just+give+me+jesus+and+i%27ll+be+alright
(Please listen to the whole song. It is a bit long, but profound. VERY profound.)
Most of these children have no idea the weight of the lyrics they sing.
The song ends with a verse from an old hymn:
“Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him
How I’ve proved Him
O’er and o’er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus
Oh for grace to trust Him more…”
I don’t remember if I cried. But in that moment, I knew what heaven would sound like. It would sound like 100 tiny Thai kids, singing praise to the King of Kings.
Also in that moment, I knew that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I had many moments of feeling entirely inadequate this past semester. But standing in that chapel, it hit me, once and for all, that God did not make a mistake when he sent me to Thailand. To my school. To my students. To my colleagues.
Jesus, Jesus, how I…often don’t trust Him.
How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er!!!
Needless to say, I played that song on repeat the last two weeks of school.
As I end my first quasi-year of teaching, this is the message that is left in my heart:
Jesus is leading me. I’m not always going to know where, or how, or why. Trusting Him is going to be hard. There will be days I kneel in the shower and scream at the heavens, wondering why I am where I am.
And then, there will be moments of grace, where I realize that yes, I am still on the path. I am right where I should be.
As I take a summer of rest, and prepare for another year, I’m left with that last, ringing lyric:
Oh for grace to trust Him more!
I pray that my second year will be marked with the grace to trust, to surrender, to humble myself, more and more and more.
Teach; Think; Write. 