Lost in Translation

It has been a challenge to get around these past several days. Spending a week “alone” in Bangkok was a very enlightening experience. For me it was motivational.

I have spent the majority of my professional career communicating with a wide variety of people. Pastoring, counseling, speaking, consulting, teaching, writing; I have become pretty skilled at being understood. For most of the last two weeks I have struggled just buying dinner. The majority of my interactions have been nothing more than a smile, a few gestures, a confused expression, and a half successful attempt at the few Thai phrases we have picked up.

I understand and ultimately agree with the notion that we needed to wait until we arrived to truly begin language learning. I would hate to learn wrong and have to try and re-learn. And again, for me, this has been a motivating time. I really want to learn Thai well, for a few reasons.

The first is practical. I can’t communicate with the world around me. I feel like a toddler; pointing and grunting and hoping the sales person has some idea of what I am asking for. Example: I went in last evening to pay the water bill at 7-11 (that’s where you pay some bills here, how cool is that?). The interaction consisted of me handing the clerk the bill, her telling me in Thai how much to pay (I already knew but I still didn’t understand a word she said), handing her a few Baht, and getting the receipt. I muttered ‘Kap cuhn krap” (“thank you” in Thai) and left.

The second is relational. Of course, this piggybacks on the first. I want to be able to have a conversation with the people, to learn about them and their culture. In fairness, many of the local Thai people – even in Ubon – speak decent English. Their English is far better than my Thai. But it’s deeper than that. Part of me I feels like I need to hide, to just keep my mouth shut. And I don’t want that. I want this to become a part of who I am.

The third is deeper still; I want to honor the people whose country I am living in. In those rare times that I was able to utter my pidgin-Thai and be understood, where I was able to assimilate a cultural act and not look clumsy; in those times the people responded very favorably. They responded with a lot of grace. And they seemed to genuinely appreciate that I had at least tried.

I have said all along that my goal is to learn the language well enough so that I don’t embarrass my kids. They have assured me that’s an impossibility. So that’s not my goal anymore. Now… my goal has become to learn the language well enough that I can truly honor our host country, well enough so that I can make the people feel like I feel their language and their customs are important. I want to learn well enough to make them feel like I feel they are important. 

Melancholy Excitement

Next week will begin many “firsts” for us. We’ll be living in another country, learning a new language and culture, and dealing with embassies on a regular basis. We’ll be in a different climate and a different time zone.

This week we have run across several “lasts”; the last time we will be able to do certain things for a very long time. Things such as:

• ·         take a ride on a Washington State ferry,
• ·         see our granddaughter in person,
• ·         complain about being too cold,
• ·         drive on the right (hand) side of the road,
• ·         be able to read a menu,
• ·         go to an English-speaking church…

      the list goes on. Pretty much every activity now brings reflection on whether it will be our “last” for a while. It’s causing a condition I’m calling “melancholy excitement”.

This is something we’re been planning and looking forward to for a few years. And it’s a good thing. But it’s also a realization that life is changing. We’re saying goodbye to friends, but we’re also saying goodbye to a way of life. We’re saying goodbye to comfortable.

There’s exhilaration. It’s a new adventure. But there’s also sadness and closure. 

Melancholy excitement. 

Transitions

We’ve gotten our stuff packed into our suitcases. We’re not shipping anything (a friend had asked me how many crates we were shipping… none). We’re not taking any shoulder bags (another friend asked if we were carrying anything beside the rolling bags… nope). All of what we’re taking has been stuffed into six checked rolling bags and four rolling carry-ons. The rest has either been left with friends or donated to someone with more need for it than we have.

I know that sounds sort of harsh, but we learned a lot on our Survey Trip. Among other things… when traveling through Customs – multiple times – don’t carry anything you don’t have to. It gets heavy. I almost think we might have brought more stuff on our Survey Trip. Just kidding. We have decided that most of what we will need we can get once we arrive, and most of the stuff we would have to ship really isn’t worth shipping.

It’s frightening, but it’s freeing.

Tomorrow – 19 June 2015 – we will drive out of Eugene for the last time for a long time. A week later we will be heading to Thailand with what we have deemed as the most necessary of our worldly possessions; most of our clothes, computers, one guitar and a mandolin, some Christmas decorations, and a few other things to make life in another world just a little more familiar. It’s a very exciting time, to say the least.

Unless something significant comes up, the next time I update this we will be in Bangkok. See you on the other side.

Bringing Back the Blog

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." – Bilbo Baggins

When I originally began this blog almost four years ago, the idea was to keep a running commentary on our preparations for going overseas. We had recently joined Pioneers and were anticipating launching into Southeast “SoFarAwAsia” pretty soon after that. That’s not how things have worked out. Over the past three-and-a-half-plus years, we’ve learned that God’s timing is not always our timing. And quite honestly, we were beginning to wonder if it was ever really going to happen.

Slowly, over the months, the blog become more of a commentary not of our preparations, but of our attempts at self-encouragement. It became a tally of the ways we were telling ourselves that it surely had to be happening soon. But as time wore on, that became more and more difficult. And so, eventually, I stopped updating it entirely.

Here we go again.

Our tickets have been purchased. Our visas have been activated. We’re now (finally!) scheduled to land in Bangkok in the early morning hours of 28 June 2015, and then to Ubon on 3 July. The first few weeks of July will be orientation to the Team, then a Team Retreat, then back to Ubon to begin language and cultural training.

It’s time to bring back the blog.

“Tongue-Thai’d” was intended to be a play on words: exploring the joys and pitfalls of learning a language and culture that are so vastly different from what we’re used to. We chose that because we were going to begin learning language prior to departure. Yeah… that didn’t happen. But it’s about to begin, so we’re keeping the title.

I’m hoping over the next few weeks to share some of the processes we have gone through recently; getting our visas (a great story of the hand of God), saying final goodbyes, condensing our belongings into just a few suitcases. And then once we land in Thailand it will become a more of a tally of lessons learned (both in and out of the classroom), and the joys and trials of following God to a vastly different side of the world.

"I think I’m quite ready for another adventure!" – Bilbo Baggins

Staying Focused

One of my favorite Tom Cruise movies is The Last Samurai, but it's probably not for the reason you think. I'm not a huge Tom Cruise fan. The reason I like the movie is that Tom Cruise - repeatedly - gets his butt kicked (I know, it's not very spiritual)(Sorry). But I also like the reason he gets his butt kicked. At one point he is told by his butt kickers that he is "of too many minds".

I love that phrase; "of too many minds". For Tom, it implies that he is trying to do too much. He needs to be focused. He needs to concentrate on one thing at a time.

I was asked the other evening what things we're most intimidated by in our upcoming overseas ministry journey. My initial response was that we were intimidated by the prospect of learning the language and the culture well enough to not embarrass our kids. After the first few months, though, it would probably morph into the general feeling of culture shock and homesickness and the "what have I done?" syndrome. But, as I more explore this, I wonder if it isn't the fear that we will become "of too many minds". Trying to fit in and do ministry and educate our kids and get along with teammates and measure nebulous results and raise finances and... you get the idea.

I think the fear is that we'll lose our focus because of all the other stuff we feel like we have to do. Our focus needs to be Jesus. Starting now.

All around us, people are asking how they can pray for us. The simple answer: pray that we're not so focused on the work of the Lord that we lose sight of the Lord of the work. We, like maybe just about everyone, need help and encouragement to fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. And to maintain praying that not just now while we prepare to go, but also when we're there and have been for however many months it might be.

Pray that we're not "of too many minds". Because the lesson from The Last Samurai is that if we have too many minds, we will most assuredly get our spiritual butts kicked.

 

Unsafe and Unsure

I don't listen to a lot of Christian radio. I don't listen to a lot of radio period. I prefer to cycle through the myriad CD's I have at my disposal. But for the past few days I've been driving the car without the CD player. Thus this morning's foray into Christian radio.

One of the first songs I heard was by the band Audio Adrenaline. It is called Believer. It starts like this: "I want to live my life unsafe, unsure, but not afraid. What I want is to give all I got somehow; giving up, letting go of control right now."

I don't know if I can really describe the way I felt when I heard these words, but I do want to take a minute to explain why it made me feel the way it did. Yesterday, I gave my notice at Sears.

I know what you're thinking, but hear me out. This was by no means a snap decision. Andrea and I have been talking and praying about this for weeks now. I/we haven't been able to devote the kind of time we needed to prepare for our journey to Thailand. And after bringing it before our Bible study group, it was decided that I needed to resign. Immediately. I will be finishing out the current pay period, but as of the 16th I will no longer be a Sears employee. Hence, the title.

We're officially living unsafe and unsure, but not afraid. Unsafe and unsure because there is little to no common sense in this decision. But, it's a decision we have felt for awhile was the right one, and it's a decision that has been confirmed by several others. And we have a lot of that famous peace that passes all understanding. We are not afraid.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7.

We're devoting all our energy now to getting ready for moving overseas. It's unsafe and it's unsure. It's not scary, but it's certainly exciting.

A Mountaintop Experience

I climbed Spencer Butte last Friday. The last time I climbed it was probably thirty years ago. I don't remember it being that difficult last time...

Spencer Butte rises from about 1300 feet at the base to a little over 2000 feet at the summit. There are two trails up; one is about half a mile mostly straight up, the less steep one stretches on for a little over a mile. Among other things, I discovered that I am hilariously out of shape. That's not all that I discovered.

There is a trail intersection about halfway up. It's a convenient place to turn around if the summit seems too much. I was already quite winded by the time I got to that point. But I had no intention of quitting that easily, so I took a short breather and continued on. The trail immediately got steeper.

I slowed my pace. After all, I concluded that I wasn't out to set any speed records, I was just out to finish the climb. Even a mild slowing of the pace made the trek easier, though I still found myself stopping more than I would have liked to. As I came to the last probably 100 feet of elevation, the trail all but disappeared. It was replaced by more or less bare rock face. I picked my way through, trying to find the most easily traversable path that I could yet never seeming to come any closer to the summit. It seemed an eternity before I finally crested the last rock and gazed over the top of the butte. I had made it.

I rested for a few minutes, then began my descent. As I looked down, there was the trail that I had missed. I made my way to it and followed it downward. A couple of times I turned back to look, and was amazed to not see the trail I had just walked along. It was hidden, somehow only visible on the way down.

There's a few pretty obvious metaphors at work here.

We've got some mountains coming up on our horizon right now. At the beginning of January, Andrea's job came to an end. Now, in just a couple of weeks, the folks we've been house-sitting for will come home. The idea for the timing on both was that we figured we'd be in Thailand by that time. That has now changed as well, and we're looking (hopefully) more toward late spring or early summer. We've got a tough, uphill road ahead of us. Sometimes we have a difficult time seeing the path we're supposed to be on. And with every bit of progress, it seems that the goal moves further away from us. We can see the destination, but it continues to elude us.

However, when we look back we can see the trail that God has had us on. It's definitely clearer in hindsight. And honestly, slowing down our departure time a little might make raising what's left of our support a little less stress filled. After all, it's the end goal that is important. And we don't think God wants us to give up on following the call. It really is all about timing. The point is to make it there, not burn ourselves out trying to do it too quickly (that's a very hard thing for us to admit, but it's true). And every step is a step closer to our summit.

Please join us in praying for more partners. Please join us in praying for perseverance (not patience, that's a really dangerous thing to pray for).  Please join us in praying for wisdom and strength and peace through the process.