promises

I was remembering the other day, something that my pastor, Jon Dupin said a while ago in church. It was one of those things that has just stuck with me.

It was the last message of a series he did last September called Breaking Point.

He was talking about what happens when we don't get the point of the hard times that we go through. When something happens, but we can't understand why. It doesn't make sense to us. We can't see the joy in the pain. We know that "in all things God works for the good of those who love him" (Romans 8:28). But, what happens when we can't see the good? What happens when God doesn't tell us the point? Because sometimes He won't. Sometimes He may explain the point of why we had to go through whatever it is we had to go through. Sometimes He may reveal to us the purpose behind it. But then there are times, where we won't get the point. And that is when we rely on his promises. We may not always get the point, but we have His promise that one day, there will be a day of resurrection, of restoration.

What Jon said was relevant for me then as I was only three months away from marking two years since my youngest sister, Emily had passed away.



Emily was 13 years old when she passed away. In November, 2007, Emily had her 2nd relapse of Leukemia. If you want to read more about Emily's story, my dad started a blog about her and has been using it now to celebrate the memories of her life.

From the time that Emily relapsed, until the second that she passed away I just knew that God was going to heal her. He always had before. She always got better. That was just the way it worked. Of course I was scared. But I just thought that this was another bump in the road that God was going to pull her through. I just knew that He was going to heal her. And He did. Just not my way. On December 30, 2007, my little sister went to be with Him and received total healing. But it wasn't the healing that I was asking for. It wasn't my plan. And to be honest, I liked my plan. God's plan didn't make sense to me. I thought, God had to know how much we needed her. She was the constant bright spot in our family. She knew how to love in a special way, and we needed that love. It didn't make sense to me that God would take her. And people tried to say things that would be comforting, that she was "in a better place", that God would use it for His glory. But I couldn't wrap my mind around that. What would have made sense to me would have been for God to bring glory to himself by healing her regardless of what the doctors said. And I didn't find peace in knowing that He was going to use it for His good. Because He's God, and I knew that He could have healed her my way and still brought the same glory to himself. But that wasn't His plan. And I still can't wrap my mind around all of that. And her death is something that I doubt I will understand until I see God face to face. It's one of those times when I didn't get the point. God hasn't sent angels to my bedroom to sit down and explain to me exactly what His purpose was in taking her. All I know is she's not here, and it hurts. But I find comfort in His promises that one day I will see her again. I find rest in the promises He gives in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18.

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.

I can rest in the promises He gives in Philippians 4:7 that "the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

That was how God used what Jon said in my life then. Now, fast-forward to the last couple of months that I have spent in Thailand. Sitting in a pool bar or a gogo bar, hearing the story of a girl who hates her work but says “I don’t have a choice. If I do not work, I cannot take care of my family. So there is no choice.” Or the story of sisters who were in school and whose brother was working with some company to provide for the family. But he died in a motorbike accident when the older of the sisters was only 15. She tried to work for the same company but it was too hard for her. So she and her sister went to work as a maid, and then as a waitress and job after job led them to Bangkok where they could make enough money to be able to support their family. Or the girl who’s 15 years old, who goes to school during the day, but works in the bar at night because her mom asked her to. Or the stories of the girls who say they have to work in the bars because their families want them to find a farang husband to support the family. And it is so engrained in them that this is just the way it has to be, that this is what they’re supposed to do. When I can’t even walk down the street to get food with one of my friends that works in one of the pool bars, without a man approaching her and trying to purchase her for the night. The twisted culture that doesn’t value women enough to educate them and yet expects them to be able to find a job that will support the entire family. And I could go on.

I find myself asking similar questions now, that I have over the past two and a half years since Emily passed away. I don't get it. I don't get why these girls had to be born into the family that they were born into, or why the brother had to die when his sister was only 15 years old... I don’t understand. And I don’t have to. There are times I want to shake my fist at God and demand an answer. But that’s when I’m brought back the truths that Jon reminded me of that day. This is where I’m probably not going to get the point in this lifetime. But I have His promises:

They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."
Revelations 21: 3-5

You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted;
you encourage them, and you listen to their cry,
defending the fatherless and the oppressed,
in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more.
Psalm 10:17-18

Clinging to those promises.

mothers day

Last Thursday was mothers day. They celebrate fathers day on the kings birthday and mothers day on the queens birthday. They got Thursday and Friday off school for the holiday, so we decided to head to the beach for a day over the long weekend! I can't decide if my favorite part was the fire dancers we saw on the beach at dinner, or walking on the rocks by the water, or seeing the baby elephant. It's a toss up.





































Happy belated Mothers Day!

soul sisters

At Rachel and Mary's going away dinner, Bonita gave each of us a copy of this book. It's a compilation of twelve paintings of women in the gospels, done by Louis Glandzman. The poetry in the book is done by Edwina Gateley. In the preface of the book, she writes "When I first saw prints from Louis Glanzman's paintings of twelve of the women of the New Testament, something happened inside me. After a lifetime of knowing all about the women of the gospels, I felt that at last I had actually met them. Indeed I had. They were women whom I had encountered and connected with in my own life. They were homemakers, sex workers, child runaways, crones, teachers, mothers, senior citizens - and all of them knew Jesus. All of them were archetypes who reflected the journeys, struggles, joys, and dreams of women today.
As I spent time with each woman, I knew a deepening understanding of who she was and what she had experienced. Entering into her story of two thousand years ago, I tried to capture it in poetry and in so doing realized that I was also writing the stories of women I know today."

One of the paintings she wrote about was The Pentitent Woman:



There was a certain Pharisee who invited Jesus to dine with him. Jesus went to the Pharisee's home and reclined to eat. A woman known in the town to be a sinner learned that he was dining in the Pharisee's home. She brought a vase of perfumed oil and stood behind him at his feet, weeping so that her tears fell upon his feet. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissing them and perfuming them with the oil.
Luke 7:36-38

I think you have been weeping,
my sister,
for your eyes, limpid,
shine moist and haunted
and I see in them
a grief locked tight and hiding
beneath the glitter of favors
hanging from your hair.
What is your story, sister?
Where have you been?
What did you do
to carry such pain in your eyes -
heavier, indeed,
than the coins flashing
upon your brow?
No name for you but sinner -
shrouded in public shame,
breaker of the moral code.
You are anonymous -
but for sin.
Did you sell yourself
for the coins that hang upon you?
We will never know why...
But we do know, sister,
that there is always a reason
for despair.
We do know, sister,
that women like you
are not born intent on sin
and self-destruction,
but come,
like all of us,
full of expectations that our lives
will be happy and fruitful.
We women have come to understand
that selling ourselves
is not something we desire
and dream of,
but is, rather,
an act of self-annihilation
driven by despair.
We know that beneath it all
there is an untold story
locked in childhood memory -
too horrific for the light of day.
We know this, sister,
because so many others
have walked your path
of condemnation -
and even come to tell it.
The violence done to woman
is no longer a secret.
Now we see
beneath the baubles,
now we see
beneath the masks
and we call you sister -
not sinner.
You have your own brave story.
Risking the anger and the ridicule
of those around you,
cloaked in their shallow respectability,
you broke through
their righteous ranks,
slipping your silken veils
past their long stiff robes,
gate-crashing the patriarchal party,
bearing, tight to your bosom,
your rich and precious perfume.
They did not know
who you were, sister -
only what you had done.
It was enough
to leave them aghast
at your intrusion and your daring.
But you were driven
by something far deeper
than they would ever know or feel -
a passion
that poured right out
from your belly
and flowed into warm tears
that fell upon the feet of Jesus.
Your tears were your story, sister,
told for the first time
to the man who looked upon you
with compassion -
illuminating your soul, sister,
and revealing all the longing
breaking from within it.
With eyes that penetrated
he knew, sister,
who you were.
And he loved you
for yourself.
Not so,
the crowd of accusers
who gathered around,
in shock and disgust
at the spectacle of raw emotion,
right before their eyes.
How could anyone
(their looks betrayed)
with a modicum of honor
receive a woman such as you!
The lovely smell of your perfume
rose from the feet of Jesus,
assailing with floral bouquet
the outraged dignity
of the dinner guests.
Disapproving,
brows furrowed,
the mumbled about the poor
and the wanton, inappropriate waste
of expensive oil
poured on the body of Jesus.
(They did not know who he was either.)
But Jesus knew,
and you knew, sister,
that the perfume
bathing you in sweetness -
like clouds of grade -
belonged to you both.
So you knelt,
expectant of compassion,
at the feet of the one
who knew you and loved you
for yourself
and for your inner truth.
Like the perfume you unstopped,
it was for you, sister,
a moment of release
as all the crushed
and wrapped up pain within you
dissolved,
all the insults and blows of the years
you had borne,
faded now -
dispelling all despair forever
in a moment of grace and honesty.
Now, sister, you are free -
your story told,
your love revealed
to all of us.
Our invitation is to look deeper
than we do,
to intuit and honor
what so often lies
beneath the surface
of denial, anger and diminishment,
grace pulsing to break through.
I once knew
another woman like you.
She ran a brothel in the city,
managing sex
for her clients and her girls.
The money she surreptitiously slipped
into her roomy pockets
was exchanged for sexual acts -
considered still
one of the greatest sins of all.
Even so,
she welcomed me into her home
and place of business,
plying me with cookies, tea
and homemade cake.
The clients,
smart, professional men
in politics and business,
(taking a quick break for sex
from their offices downtown),
slipped furtively in and out
the darkened rooms
like thieves -
eyes down but wary.
When all was still,
after the lunch-time rush,
the madam thrust a twenty-dollar bill
down my blouse, muttering:
"For your ministry."
I was horrified
knowing that the money
had come from prostitution.
My whole self protested...
Until I saw
the tears and longing in her eyes
crying out unspoken plea:
Do not reject me too...
Then I remembered you, sister,
and your story.
Her twenty-dollar bill
became a waft of perfumed oil
moving in her sad, dark home
like a whispered breath of sweetness
playing on my senses.
Who was I to judge
the heart which broke
into that moment,
spilling kindness and longing?
Who was I to dismiss
her story
because I did not know it?
No matter, sisters,
we are all capable,
in the midst of murky deeds,
of bearing perfume,
and shedding hot repentant tears
to wash and bless each other -
as you did, Soul Sister.

happy birthday sister!!!

Happy August 11th! Today's my beautiful sister's birthday!




I can't even believe she's 18 years old! She really is amazing, and I'm not just saying that because she's my sister.

I knew that staying till December would mean that I would miss some things back home, and unfortunately Abbie's 18th Birthday was one of those things.

But, I still wanted to say a special Happy Birthday from Thailand!











Even the pets wanted to say Happy Birthday! :)





Sister, I am so thankful for you and I hope that you have a wonderful birthday! I miss you and love you so much!!!

good news!

I have some really amazing news to share with you!!!

The newest wonderful additions to our family here at Beginnings, accepted Christ as their Savior today!

All of the other girls living at Beginnings had already accepted Christ. How beautiful.
Since these girls arrived, our prayer for them was that they would also accept Him as their savior and would come to know the freedom, love and grace that comes with that.

I am just so excited for them!

Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God
John 1:12

Rejoicing!