Not Perfect, Still Beautiful

Okay, I admit it... I love it when things go perfectly.  Whether it be a cake I’m baking, an event I’m helping to plan, even a family holiday.

Many of you know that I have struggled with speaking in Thai but did you know that I also struggle speaking in English too… okay, so maybe just in front of large crowds!! 

It’s all because I want it to sound perfect and if I think it’s not going to be then fear kicks in. Erg!

So anyway, last week, we had the opportunity to take a much-needed getaway with just us five. I was super-excited to have planned the PERFECT trip away.

 The plan was to have no plan.  Just stay at the beach and relax and hang out together. We were all looking forward to some serious “Crossie” time together.

We have lived in the ZOE Transitional Home for exactly 12 months now.  It’s been a rollercoaster ride of emotions and craziness. It has stretched us in ways that we didn’t realize we could be stretched and challenged us tremendously.  My heart has broken, once again, for the precious children that ZOE rescues.

It cries out for the healing transformation that brings life back to hearts that ache to feel loved and accepted, and longs for moments when they get to know who they are and to accept that they’re precious and worthy.

~

Well, our holiday location was perfect.  All the “bits” that I was able to control and organise worked out really well.

But despite the “perfect” setting, and many wonderful bonding moments and laughter… our beautiful holiday also included an ugly side of bouts of diarrhea, sunstroke, vomiting, an ear infection and five people who all desperately needed time and space to unwind, process and relax in their own individual ways!!

You get the picture…

As the holiday drew to a close, we decided to take one last leisurely stroll along the beach at sunset.  A few nights prior, I had found a really nice, big shell that some other people passing by had even stopped to comment on.

So, on this final night, I had just one more opportunity to scout the beach while the tide was out and I was determined to find another “perfect” shell for my collection.

Tobi and I were walking together, eyes both scouring the sand when we began to chat about various things.  “Isn’t it amazing?” I said, “How we all have such different taste about what beauty is?  Like I might pick up this shell and think it is so pretty, but you might be thinking it’s average and then you see a shell that you really like, and I might not think it’s very special at all.” He agreed.

Moments later, he produced a shell for me, “Is this what you’re looking for Mum? You can have it.”

“Aww thanks” I replied, at first glance it looked good but then I noticed something and my perfectionist side dominated, “but actually I won’t keep this one. See, it’s broken.”

His next words left me speechless.

“Yes Mum it is, but even broken shells are beautiful.”

His words stuck in my mind and began playing over and over.  He was so right.

Later that night after finishing a movie we’d starting watching the day before, Dave and I were just about to give the instruction for the kids to head off to bed, when Eliana spoke up suggesting we have a time of prayer as a family, thanking God for this wonderful time away we’d had together.  We all agreed, it was a great idea.  I love hearing my children pray. It gives me such insight into their hearts and minds.

After we’d prayed she suggested that we also have a time of encouragement for one another- isn’t it awesome when you see your children take the lead on the things that you, as the parent, usually instigate?

Towards the end of the time of encouragement, I decided to share the conversation that Tobi and I had had on the beach earlier.  I spoke about how it had reminded me that we are all imperfect.

We are all broken in some way and we each have so many things that God is working through in our lives, but that indeed we are still beautiful to Him.  And with the realisation that that is how God sees us, and other people, we are able to try to see others in the same way - broken yet beautiful!

After we’d talked about this, Eliana came to whisper closely. “At the start of the week, I used to only collect the perfect shells too, Mum” she said quietly, “But then Tobi explained to me how when a shell is broken, you can see right inside the shell, which you can’t normally see. He said that some shells aren’t that nice to look at on the outside but on the inside they’re beautiful.”

Our holiday ended faster than I would’ve liked (why is that?) and it was time to trade wading through warm salty water, for the long list of emails that awaited me.  As I skim read, one email jumped off the screen, “Would I share at a meeting on Tuesday about the Transitional Home?”

Despite the fact that this request made me feel physically sick and, after I'd read it, my heart started racing faster than a Japanese bullet train, I must remember that I may not ever be a perfect public speaker but what I can share is what God is doing beautifully in, and through, this transitional home… the progress in the lives of the young adults who come in and out… and what God is doing in my own family too.  It can be messy at times to strip away masks and expose inner fears but through God’s grace and love we can experience hope, healing, authenticity and love. 

Please know this week, there is beauty in your brokenness!!

Year Six

As each anniversary of us living here approaches, I like to commemorate it in some way, a reflection... going back through old photos... "then and now" comparisons etc.  This year as our family celebrates our 6th anniversary in Thailand, I want to not only remember how it all began but I'm going to share a bit about our smallest family member...

In the beginning...

On the 12th March 2009, I sent an email to a volunteer working overseas.  I had stumbled upon her family's blog shortly after hearing about a place called ZOE Children's Home. That email led to a series of other emails back and forth, then us contacting their U.S office and eventually beginning the lengthy process of applying to work in Thailand... at a children's home... we had never even been to!  Through a series of Skype interviews, conversations and a week-long trip to see the work being done in Thailand first-hand; we were accepted in July 2009 and we committed to begin preparing for the move that would totally change our lives... 

Right before our first Skype-interview in May 2009 

(Spencer is 6 months old)

Our first border run April 2010

Dave's first Thailand birthday March 2010

Visiting the ZOE building site (the current children's home) January 2010

 

Our little guy in February 2010

At ZOE March 2010

Six years down the track, Dave and I can now say that Thailand mostly feels like home.  For our children, who have lived well-over half their lives here (and for Spencer, most of his life) it is definitely home to them.

Many times, people say to me, "Oh it's so great that your kids are experiencing this. My kids are so ungrateful", or "Your children must really understand what it's like to go without" etc.

Our children are children. They struggle with self-centredness, ungratefulness and not being content just as much as ... well, all of us do.

Like other parents I know, I hope for life-changing moments for my children that rock their world, that challenge their feelings and inspire them to have a passion that, combined with a love for God, changes lives around them and in turn becomes part of their legacy.

In early 2009, as David and I sat on our new leather couch, upon freshly laid floating floor boards, a simple DVD was the tool that God used to break our hearts for something that breaks His; child trafficking.  It is moments like this, that we never forget, that change our life and demand that we do something about the wrong that we have become aware of and help to make it right.  With tear stained faces we looked at each other and said, "We have to go..."

This little guy, our youngest one who is all-boy, frequently mud covered, rough, boisterous, loveable, competitive, funny, loud, outspoken and gets away with way too much - strangely also has a very tender and soft side. A dim glow under the dirt-smeared skin, a very gentle and sensitive heart beneath the wrestles, pokes and pranks.

This kid, who had just celebrated turning one a couple of months before we left Australia and had not long been walking, really could be part-Thai.  

From fish eyes, frog legs and pigs blood, I'm not sure whether it's just the taste that he likes or the reaction that he gets from eating them.  He loves an audience, crazy dance moves, drumming and singing and it's no surprise that his chosen career-path (for now) is to be a racing car driver or a DJ.

Last Sunday night...  we had planned to visit a local market and try out a newish food section where I had eaten with my parents on their recent trip.  We were all craving some western food but unexpectedly when we walked there, we found a sign saying that it is closed on Sundays.  The problem was, that we still had the hankering for some pizza or a burger so we decided to keep walking and see what we could find.  Eventually we came to a restaurant that we had been to before and ordered our food.  With much anticipation we waited and eventually we were served. It did not disappoint! We all enjoyed the treat and decided to keep the remaining pizza slices for the next day's lunch as the kids would be at home due to school holidays.

By the time we left, it was dark and the footpaths were uneven so we carefully walked single file and held each other tightly as we crossed the busy city roads.

It was just as we were about to walk into our street that we saw him... a man with his t-shirt wrapped over his head and covering his face.  He was curled up on the step sleeping with no home... and no bed.

It became quickly apparent that our children had also noticed the man as they began to wipe tears from their eyes but most surprisingly was just how confronted they felt and within seconds, wailing  sprung forth from our youngest... big, gushing tears mixed with, "... that's just so sad".

Without hesitation, we all knew that we had something in our hands... something we could give.  The treat we had earlier thought of saving for ourselves was carefully placed beside the sleeping man and as prayers were tearfully uttered, we walked on.

As we rounded the next corner, into our street, we saw yet another man, sleeping in a similar position and rugged up with clothes covering his head. 

Our little-one's sobbing increased.

I held his hand. Both taken aback by his reaction and yet realising that it made plain sense - that this must be the first time he has remembered seeing someone like this, or was old enough to understand.

"It is sad" I agreed.  I held his hand tight.  The road was dark and quiet besides the crying.

But what was it that I really wanted him to know right now? I struggled for the words.

That's when my dad's encouragement, spoken out to each of our children on his last day in Thailand came flooding back. He was so right how he had summed each of them up.

"That soft and gentle heart you have, God gave you that heart. Remember how Gramps noticed the way that you knew all your teddy's names and the way you care for them. And the way you tenderly take care of animals? That sadness that you feel when something is not right... God must feel like that too. But He is going to use that softness in you so that you can help people.  Don't ever forget what you saw tonight.  When it makes you feel sad, you can use that to go and make a difference".

The crying continued into the night and as I lay down next to him and patted him to sleep staring down at his little tear streaked face, I remembered back to that night on the couch all those years ago when I too had wept for those who do not have a home and a family and know what it really means to be loved.

Why did I choose to share this little story? 

For us parents - let's continue to pray that our children have life-altering moments that begin to shape them and inspire them to be all that they were created to be.  

And in our own lives, let's continue to open up our eyes to see need around us and never forget those who have less than us or that don't know where hope, love and peace really come from.  

I'm thankful, that this situation has already allowed us to, not only, have many more conversations but to also act upon the needs that we saw that night.

As our family heads into this new year, both 2016 and our seventh year here, may it be a year where we allow God to continue to use our feelings of sadness, anger and injustice in combination with His love for people to keep making a difference and really see change in our community.

goodbye..?

It really seems too difficult to put into words the emotions that went along with having my parents come and stay with us for the past three weeks.  It wasn't just because it was the first Christmas we've had together in 6 years, or the fun we've had exploring new places, hanging out or trying new foods. 

For me, it seems best to articulate just how I felt, using the above quote from Winnie The Pooh, "Can't we go back and do it all over again?"  Yep! It was that special... I know I would be happy to repeat it all in a flash!

 Three weeks of "new favourite days"...

When adventure happens...

Sometimes it's the simple and "ordinary" things that are the most precious...

We've definitely felt loved these past few weeks...

 

But airport-goodbyes are still not getting any easier!! (Following this photo we pretty much all broke down in tears!)