"Give us this day our daily [rice]" -Matthew 6:11
As splashes of cool water hit me, I wring the soap duds from my hair in contentment. I am simply thankful. Thankful for bucket showers. Especially the refreshing ones following an early 5am run before the sweltering sunrise. Four weeks ago, I don't think I could have said such a thing. I would have demanded a little shower spout, a warm temperature control, and a clean, soft towel that smells of lilacs. But The Lord is changing me, stretching me, and expanding my comfort zone. He is working in ways I have asked Him to.
It's thankfulness for the little things. Bucket showers, a cozy nook for sleeping on the floor with my Burmese sisters, rice and fried eggs, Kari Jobe songs on my roommates' phones, and boiled water for instant coffee - these little daily blessings really put other things in perspective. Yes, there are hot, buggy nights and times I really wish I could simply sit on a couch instead of a floor mat, but The Lord has given me all I need and more here. And first and foremost I simply need Him.
And, oh how blessed I am with an apartment of love and laughter. All three of my roommates are roughly my age, take wonderful care of me, teach me new phrases, and laugh with me when I make a fool of myself. Just the other night I had about had it with the army of mosquitos invading, so I jolted up from the floor, grabbed my bug sprayed and doused myself in... hairspray. If only laughter killed mosquitos...
As I continue to adjust to a new standard of life, I can identify more with the people around me. We have so much in America. We are paid much and can afford much. We have a high standard of living, and that is not a bad thing in and of itself - indeed, it is a blessing to be used well and to thank God for. Here, salaries are extremely low, yet much to my surprise, prices are still high. It is an inverse relationship, and one which drives the system of poverty in a developing nation. As many products - like cars - are imported, prices are often higher than in America. Money is stretched tightly. For some children, school is overlooked as they find day labor jobs to bring home money to feed their families. Those children without an education then have no skills to offer a future employer, and thus, the cycle of child labor and extreme poverty continues.
I have thought much as I have observed different situations here. Two weeks ago, fifteen hours on a bumpy Burmese bus traversing peaceful countryside brought me to Mandalay and Pyin Oo Lwin, where the golden sun shines brightly. There I met an amazing couple, pastors, the leaders of Myanmar Bible Institute, and a man working on a dictionary for his Naga language, of which there are 58 dialects. From there, I flew with the director of Asian Children's Mission up to Myitkyina in Kachin State.
As we stepped off the plane, I knew we were in territory where very few foreigners step foot. What beauty surrounded us. The bustling, overly crowded streets of Yangon gave way to vibrant green fields, peaceful Lisu villages, fresh air, and domestic animals running everywhere. My heart began to come alive. Cows, goats, water buffalo, dogs, cats - you name it - they owned the roads. "Free country. We are free here," my Lisu friend joked as he pointed to the two cows sitting in the middle of the road. I laughed. Yes, I thought, freedom comes by different standards.
While in Kachin, I had valuable opportunities to spend a bit of time with the children of one of Asian Children Mission's orphanages as well experiencing two eye-opening compounds as we observed two refugee camps. My heart was able to connect full-circle that day at the camps, as I sat solemnly in the midst of sickness, disease, and filth and retraced back to my memories with the Karen and Hmong children in St. Paul, Minnesota, whose refugee families had immigrated from Burma and surrounding countries. The families and children who first opened my heart to Southeast Asia experienced this. And now it was my turn to walk in their shoes, and it was hard for me. Though, an experience that will equip me and one I won't soon forget.
The children at the orphanage were beautiful. Bright faces, shimmering smiles, and exuberant hope. They knew their Savior at that orphanage, and He had given them a zeal for life. Though I feel I was able to do very little, I knew God had brought me there to taste of His kingdom of Heaven, to realize how much can be done with very little, and to give encouragement to His children. Sometimes love does not have a price tag but instead is shown through the gentle act of sitting beside someone, offering a heart that is ready to listen to one's struggles and joys, and instilling the value given by God upon each unique child created in His image.
Through all I am seeing I continue to pray, "Father, open my eyes." It is easy to be blinded by my own selfishness. It is easy to look the other way and forget about things I can't do much to change. It is easy to think of returning to America where everything will be "back to normal." Except God did not bring me this far with doors flung wide open to simply crawl back into my hole of comfort and safety. He continues to pull me gently out of what I know and through seasons where I have to grasp His hand tightly, and I pray that He will accomplish His intended work in me - that I may be refined, equipped, and changed.
As splashes of cool water hit me, I wring the soap duds from my hair in contentment. I am simply thankful. Thankful for bucket showers. Especially the refreshing ones following an early 5am run before the sweltering sunrise. Four weeks ago, I don't think I could have said such a thing. I would have demanded a little shower spout, a warm temperature control, and a clean, soft towel that smells of lilacs. But The Lord is changing me, stretching me, and expanding my comfort zone. He is working in ways I have asked Him to.
It's thankfulness for the little things. Bucket showers, a cozy nook for sleeping on the floor with my Burmese sisters, rice and fried eggs, Kari Jobe songs on my roommates' phones, and boiled water for instant coffee - these little daily blessings really put other things in perspective. Yes, there are hot, buggy nights and times I really wish I could simply sit on a couch instead of a floor mat, but The Lord has given me all I need and more here. And first and foremost I simply need Him.
And, oh how blessed I am with an apartment of love and laughter. All three of my roommates are roughly my age, take wonderful care of me, teach me new phrases, and laugh with me when I make a fool of myself. Just the other night I had about had it with the army of mosquitos invading, so I jolted up from the floor, grabbed my bug sprayed and doused myself in... hairspray. If only laughter killed mosquitos...
As I continue to adjust to a new standard of life, I can identify more with the people around me. We have so much in America. We are paid much and can afford much. We have a high standard of living, and that is not a bad thing in and of itself - indeed, it is a blessing to be used well and to thank God for. Here, salaries are extremely low, yet much to my surprise, prices are still high. It is an inverse relationship, and one which drives the system of poverty in a developing nation. As many products - like cars - are imported, prices are often higher than in America. Money is stretched tightly. For some children, school is overlooked as they find day labor jobs to bring home money to feed their families. Those children without an education then have no skills to offer a future employer, and thus, the cycle of child labor and extreme poverty continues.
I have thought much as I have observed different situations here. Two weeks ago, fifteen hours on a bumpy Burmese bus traversing peaceful countryside brought me to Mandalay and Pyin Oo Lwin, where the golden sun shines brightly. There I met an amazing couple, pastors, the leaders of Myanmar Bible Institute, and a man working on a dictionary for his Naga language, of which there are 58 dialects. From there, I flew with the director of Asian Children's Mission up to Myitkyina in Kachin State.
As we stepped off the plane, I knew we were in territory where very few foreigners step foot. What beauty surrounded us. The bustling, overly crowded streets of Yangon gave way to vibrant green fields, peaceful Lisu villages, fresh air, and domestic animals running everywhere. My heart began to come alive. Cows, goats, water buffalo, dogs, cats - you name it - they owned the roads. "Free country. We are free here," my Lisu friend joked as he pointed to the two cows sitting in the middle of the road. I laughed. Yes, I thought, freedom comes by different standards.
While in Kachin, I had valuable opportunities to spend a bit of time with the children of one of Asian Children Mission's orphanages as well experiencing two eye-opening compounds as we observed two refugee camps. My heart was able to connect full-circle that day at the camps, as I sat solemnly in the midst of sickness, disease, and filth and retraced back to my memories with the Karen and Hmong children in St. Paul, Minnesota, whose refugee families had immigrated from Burma and surrounding countries. The families and children who first opened my heart to Southeast Asia experienced this. And now it was my turn to walk in their shoes, and it was hard for me. Though, an experience that will equip me and one I won't soon forget.
The children at the orphanage were beautiful. Bright faces, shimmering smiles, and exuberant hope. They knew their Savior at that orphanage, and He had given them a zeal for life. Though I feel I was able to do very little, I knew God had brought me there to taste of His kingdom of Heaven, to realize how much can be done with very little, and to give encouragement to His children. Sometimes love does not have a price tag but instead is shown through the gentle act of sitting beside someone, offering a heart that is ready to listen to one's struggles and joys, and instilling the value given by God upon each unique child created in His image.
Through all I am seeing I continue to pray, "Father, open my eyes." It is easy to be blinded by my own selfishness. It is easy to look the other way and forget about things I can't do much to change. It is easy to think of returning to America where everything will be "back to normal." Except God did not bring me this far with doors flung wide open to simply crawl back into my hole of comfort and safety. He continues to pull me gently out of what I know and through seasons where I have to grasp His hand tightly, and I pray that He will accomplish His intended work in me - that I may be refined, equipped, and changed.