Asian Blend: March 2011

Monday, March 21, 2011

Sad and tragic, yet hopeful day!

Well... I went to my first memorial in Cambodia. What a sad weekend and Monday at school.

Over the weekend a second grader's (at Logos) sister was killed in a moto accident. She was only 4; she was planning on attending kindergarten at Logos in the fall. Her Pakistani family are Christians, which made the memorial hopeful. Yet, even though we know, and the family knows, that they will see her again one day, there is immense pain, grief and sadness. The mother was also involved in the accident, but survived.

It was the first time I had to talk to students about a death this close to their hearts. My third graders know this second grader, and a couple of my kids are even close to this family that lost their little one. We talked, they asked questions and I answered them. We made cards for the second grader and his family.

Tim and I attended the memorial this afternoon. We can't even imagine, nor do we want to, what we would be feeling if we lost one of our boys, daughters-in-law, or grandkids to such a tragic death. What this mother had to go through that day was unmentionable, in this country where if a foreigner is hurt or dead, no one comes to help. No one is there, you bear it alone. Unthinkable...tragic...it can even make a person angry at the injustice or coldness (it seems) of people's hearts here. This truly is still such a backwards country.

But you go on...God has called us here to minister to these people, to their children, and we go on, daily praying, daily teaching, daily mentoring, daily answering questions. So many of our Christian Cambodian students have families/parents who are Budhists. Students wrestle with questions such as, what do we do when our parents want us to go offer sacrfices to our ancestors? How do we show respect for our parents and honor them, and not alienate them, yet keep true to our beliefs? (Khmer New Year is coming up) Believe me, you can't give them pat Biblical answers, you have to take into account their culture, their traditions, etc. Many of these students carry such big burdens for their parents who are not saved; knowing that any day their parents could die without knowing Jesus and the students don't have that hope that they will see their parents again in Heaven, that instead their parents will be suffering in Hell forever.

It tears at our hearts; it is so sad. Tim and I pray each day for Godly wisdom to teach these students, to answer the tough questions, but mostly to love them, to show God's love to these kids who so much need hope for their lives.

Those of you who are supporting us in prayer and/or financially, thank you!! We treasure your prayers, we treasure your committment to us, we treasure your communication with us. Keep it up! We love you! And God blessings to you!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Family that Slays Together Stays Together

Here's how my Thursday morning began...

2:30 a.m. - My loving, caring spouse wakes me up to ask me to scratch his head cuz he has a horrible headache. I mumble something unintelligble and plop my hand close to his head and begin scratching...he promptly falls asleep

about 4:30 a.m. - I am now wide awake and have been tossing and turning for a couple hours. I decide to get up and go work on lessons or something...I groan and grumble and sigh, looking over at the blissfully sleeping spouse of mine, the one who woke me up...

As I stumble downstairs I hear this shrill squeaking and instantly recognize the clatter as coming from a rat (no mice here, only rats). I immediately begin checking all our sticky "plates." No rat on the one by the bathroom, no rat by the one beside the washing machine, hmmm...I continue to hear the squeaking which now sounds like terrifying screams from a small animal...I follow the noise and realize it's coming from behind the shoe rack by the door. I look under the shoe rack and lo and behold what do I see? No, not only one rat, but two rats! I didn't know Tim had put a sticky plate under there.

One of the rats was laying sideways, not moving at all, but its eyes were still open...
the other rat was trying to escape the plate, its forepaws scratching up the wall, its hind legs stuck to the plate. I thought, there is no way I'm going to pick up that plate, with that rat almost off the plate. It was trying desperately to claw its way off the plate...and I didn't want to get bitten!

Ok, now what do I do?

A conversation came to mind. Now keep in mind. this conversation happened during lunch at school. Only in Cambodia do you find yourself discussing various ways to catch and kill rats with colleagues during lunch!

The conversation went like this:
Me: "Yeah, we use those sticky plates to catch our rats, then we place them in a plastic bag, tie the bag up and throw the bag in the garbage pile out by the street (that's where the garbage goes and gets picked maybe weekly)."
Principal: "That's horrible, how inhumane. They take days to starve..."
Me: "Yes, but we just can't bring ourselves to bash them over the head with a brick. Besides we are helping to feed the street animal population."
Another teacher: "We did that once - bashed one with a brick; it was horrible, blood and guts everywhere..."
Principal: "I catch the rats and then put them in a plastic bag. Put the bag in the sink and fill it with water...make sure the bag has no holes and won't leak. I then put the rat in the bag and drown it. Works great, only takes a few minutes..."
Me: "Ok, I'll try that..."

So back to 4:30 a.m....I decide to try this new trick. Then I decide I do NOT want to pick up the sticky plate and get bitten. I mean, if both the rats were laying sideways and not moving that would be fine, but this one rat was halfway off and really fighting! So....I decided to return the favor...I trudge upstairs to wake up the loving husband who is still sleeping, the one who woke me up at 2:3o

I lean over him and say quietly, yet firmly, "Honey, wake up. I need your help with a mouse."
He sat up suddenly and stared at me. Then after about a minute or two, he said, "Only in Cambodia, will I probably ever something like this at 4:30 a.m."

We both stomp downstairs. I tell him the plan and how I heard about it from the elementary principal. I fill a plastic bag with water in the sink...I look over at my courageous protector...he is leaning over staring at the rats...no movement from him. He says, "move the shoe rack and lets see if he gets away..." So I do...the rat is still stuck but NOT happy! Tim doesn't want to pick it up either...then he comes up with a ingenious idea. He gets one of the other sticky plates and smacks that plate on to the the plate that already has the rats on it; thereby, making a rat sandwich! Now why couldn't I have thought of that? Then he gingerly places the plates in the bag with water. I hold the handles up, and Tim adds more water to make sure there's enough to drown the rats. We both stand at the sink somberly, yet curiously, looking on...At first there is much movement...then only a couple minutes later, all is still.

I say, "It worked! Cool!" (No, I'm not one of those people who hurt small animals and will one day blow up a building or massacre a bunch of people). I'm just glad I found a way to kill the rats faster so they don't have to suffer as long.

We empty the water out and tie the bag up; job done, and quite efficiently if we do say so.

We actually feel closer, like this crisis has brought us together...our new motto to survival in Cambodia is, "The family who slays together, stays together."

Monday, March 7, 2011

The Train

My Dad died on March 4th 2011. From Cambodia, I am reflecting on death and the experience of life, and my perspective on this whole earthly exixstence. I hope you will all enjoy this blog. At least it may challenge you to view our existence here in the light of God's grace. Enjoy!

"The Train"

Tim Jones

Life is a train that moves on down the tracks and keeps a very demanding schedule. This train has no deviations and no layovers; it does not stop for other trains to pass. It has the right-of-way over everything else. No one can stop it nor slow it down. This train, we call "Time," is a ruthless taskmaster carrying us all forward at what appears to be an increasing velocity toward our own date with Death. I am very thankful that the Conductor of my train is the Lord Jesus Christ. And when I get to my final destination, He will be in charge of managing all the arrangements for my departure. He will call my name and I will go forward to take his hand. As the train doors open He winks at me and chuckles, as any good father would who has a secret that he knows his child will love. He nods, smiles and gestures me to follow Him. One step outside the train and I am stunned into silence and tears fill my eyes with the overwhelming beauty around me. Before me is place that is so alive with faith, hope and love that I feel soiled if I have to spend another moment on this train that I thought I would never want to leave. I walk into a world that is outside of time and space, a place of joy and rest, a place where the train of time that I just stepped off of is a relic in a Heavenly museum. People walk by and comment, "How could our lives have been so controlled by such a gloomy and sullen task master as the train?"

Jesus clears His throat to get my attention. His smile radiates love and acceptance as He spreads His arms wide, encompassing all that I see around me, and shouts, "You are home, my son." Then He gets down on one knee, holds my face in His scarred hands, His eyes piercing my soul, and whispers gently, "You are home." As he smiles, I feel His nature permeate my whole being with understanding and joy. It is all-consuming, like a star exploding in pure joy. I understand, not as I came to an understanding on earth through years of study and struggle, but all at once, in a moment. It is He who has taught me this in an instant and I feel small in His world, now become my world. Yet at the same time, I feel like I am home. Like everything I ever knew before was just a room with no window, in which I had been kept in for far too long. I am home. There is a knowing that everything is going to be good, not just for a short time until the next bad thing happens, but FOREVER! I am home! I shout it out, "I am home!" And a multitude of brothers and sisters I have yet to meet share my joy and thunder out praise, joining me in laughter and celebration at the birth of my own understanding. He looks at me and simply laughs at my puzzled expression and wonder and says, "The best is yet to come. The best will always be before you forever. Welcome Home my son!" As I walk with Him, I realize that forever He will always be with me...Heaven simply vibrates with the intensity of Him. Everything is in perfect tune with Him. I get the distinct impression that the propaganda on earth of what Heaven is like, well...it is going to be blown away by the reality. He looks back at me and looks at me like someone who can't wait to tell a secret, but doesn't want to ruin the surprise. If discovering Him in his infinite beauty will take forever, and will be anything close to what I experienced a few moments ago, then I am sure glad I won't sleep.

I turn the corner of a golden street that looks like spun glass and watch Jesus take the throne at the right hand of God. The Holy Spirit joins them and the Triune God speaks His love for all gathered. It is like a deep, powerful wave of all that is good, like the best feelings of happiness and joy you ever felt, only so intense I feel I will burst with the sheer consummation of my soul by this love that slams into and through me. Along with millions of others I fall to my knees in what I can only describe as complete and utter awe of who God is. If this is the Fear of the Lord, what was I ever "afraid" of? I understand how the Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. I mean, who can stand against this type of goodness? Who could ever not bow before the enormity of His love? I could stay here, in this moment, just looking at God and having Him loving me forever...

I now begin to understand worship. Oh to do it all over again and to be able to know what I know now and take it back to earth. To bring this joy to my friends. Then I sense God's wisdom burst over me as He imparts the truth of His thoughts. "Tim," he says, "I already sent this Joy to earth. "People refused to accept Him, my own Son. Truly those who hated Him there would abhor, and fear, Him here in Heaven. Separation from me is the goodness of my judgement. There is no evil in me. Even in my judgement for their sins, my nature is expressed. You see, they would not be happy here, for they would no be able to enter into this joy you feel. This would be a world of fear and torment and isolation forever. To be with me, without being my children, would be torture for them. My judgement is good and pure and loving. They will be apart from me forever, since they refused the offer of becoming my sons and daughters."

I drop to my face in understanding as I realize that I had always thought of judgement as somehow being bad. But it doesn't line up with God's nature. In a blink of an eye, so many stories from the Old Testament make sense. It was not the evil God, but the loving God in everything. It was the shortsightedness of man caused us to misinterpret God's movement throughtout history. So much to learn, and it has only been my first hour in Heaven!