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MORE IMPORTANT THAN A FILTER
I was explicitly told to by my manager at work to always relate whatever project I’m working on or the changes I’m suggesting back to the Scriptures. Let Jesus be THE authority, not Rodney Keim “The Missionary.” The Thai people by nature and culture, are very deferential. Even if they fully disagree with everything I might say, my position as a missionary from America, places me in a position of authority, whether it is merited or not. They might know a better way or have more experience than me, but they will very likely acquiesce to my position simply because their cultural upbringings tell them my status is greater than their’s. We as Americans don’t have a problem verbally battling for better ideas. However, observing our cultural differences is critical to moving forward as a team.
My job title at the moment is “Facilities and Agricultural Advisor.” My current role is to look over the property with fresh eyes and seek out areas of improvement, research how these improvements can be made, and make efforts to implement my research. An area I stumbled upon that didn’t look quite right was the tilapia and catfish farm. ZOE raises their own fish for consumption, but it hasn’t gone as smoothly as they had hoped. The fish have either underperformed, taken too long to reach consumption size, or simply died off. I have no training when it comes to aquaculture, but I do have a knack for spotting things that don’t seem on target. My first look at the fish farm tanks immediately piqued my curiosity as to a potential problem. The water looked like chocolate milk. A general rule I learned many years ago was “animals under stress don’t perform.” Regardless of the animal in question, if they are stressed because of poor handling, extreme temperature, the presence of pests, or low-quality environment, they simply won’t thrive. They won’t eat right or enough. They’ll get sick. The problems pile on top of each other ultimately leading to death.
There are over 300 white and orange Tilapia in this tank. Where are they? I could have explained all my training to the Thai staff, but it likely wouldn’t have landed with the weight with which it had bothered my conscience. Fish in Thailand are raised in dirty water all the time. The large ponds and lakes around are all murky and yet people still catch seemingly healthy fish. Plus, they’re fish right? Who cares about a stupid fish?
Remembering my manager’s imperative to allow the Bible to be the supreme authority, I believe God sparked my creativity. I asked a couple of the Thai staff in charge of the fish farm to picture what the water looked like in the garden of Eden. When everything was made perfect, could they picture what type of water the fish were swimming in? Of course, they said the water was clear and clean. This isn’t a revelation. No one needs to be told what perfect water looks like. We all intrinsically know that water should be clean. Furthermore, I told them to think about the air quality we were experiencing. I asked if they felt healthy, strong and motivated to work. I asked if they thought the air in Eden was smokey. Again, they knew immediately it wasn’t. I explained how we all felt off-balance breathing the smokey air and knew we would feel better when the rains come and clean the air. Would it be hard to imagine that the fish would feel the same way, that the water they live in has a direct effect on their wellbeing like the air we breathe? The lightbulbs clicked on in their heads and got excited about solving the problem.
For less than $60 USD, we were able to build 2, double barrel fishpond filters utilizing a lot of materials already on hand. The one Thai staff member who has felt demoralized by the failures of the fish project, has had a renewed sense of purpose, taking pride in his work. He knows healthy water equals healthy fish, which in turn equals healthy food for rescued kids. He knows his area of responsibility is directly related to restoring trafficked kids and orphans. The pride I’ve seen swell in him as been a joy. He stands taller, smiles brighter, and looks forward to making his area look better. We’re still tweaking and adjusting the fish farm, but the Thai staff have a joy about the process which I hadn’t seen before.
You can actually see the bottom of the tank which is more than 2′ down. Had I not been emphatically told to relate all my projects back to God, we still would have likely installed filters at my recommendation but the joy in my co-worker’s heart would most assuredly be absent. Could it be God cares more about His children’s hearts than fish? I think so. I’m slowly learning to do things His way, but learning nonetheless.
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Bloom where you are planted.
There is a tree growing in the empty lot next to the home we are renting, and I love it. It has more flowers than leaves, and the color is striking against the blue sky.
Trees like this one are growing all over our Muubaan (neighborhood), standing here and there to bless me each day on my morning “walkabout”. Last month, there were yellow trees in bloom. With the onset of rain and the appearance of blue skies, these orange ones now shine.
I have always been drawn to the simplistic beauty of the adage “Bloom where you are planted.” I like the idea of a master gardener placing each seedling right where He knows it will do best. I like that a tree’s job is simply to put down roots and keep reaching up. I like that the tree reaches for food, sunlight, and water but can do little more in the way of providing for itself.
When Rod and I bought our first home, one of the things I remember stood out to me about the older neighborhood we moved into (as opposed to the newer subdivisions we visited), was the trees: they stood tall above the homes and shaded the roadways.
When we moved to the ranch, I fell in love with the ancient tree in the yard…
…the one with the baby raccoons and the tire swing.
When we moved to town, there was an old tree to greet us there, too. This one blessing us with seed pod helicopters in lieu of the cotton that “snowed” each summer at the ranch. It sheltered a fairy garden and held the tree fort that became the water slide.
Each home gave us a tree, each tree, a blessing.
The trees around me now inspire me because of their resilient growth.
They bend, adjust: growing around power lines and avoiding snares. Always beautiful. Still blooming bright.
I love that these people bent their wall around the tree. And the tree, in turn, bends out from their home, leaning over the road to provide a canopy of welcome shade.
And then there is this one. While standing tall and strong, it still finds a way to lean toward the water: drawn to its refreshing stillness and abundant source of life.
In each place I have lived, I have worked to put down roots, reaching deep and holding tight. Torn up, replanted, pruned, I admit I feel lost some days. I have been busy reaching, growing, dreaming in one direction: but if that way is cut off, I too must grow in another direction. Like these trees, I am doing the slow work of bending. Like these trees, I lean into the still waters where I find refreshment for my soul. Always, forever, finding new ways to reach up.
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“IT COULD BE WORSE” IS NOT THE SAME AS BEING “GOOD”
It’s amazing to realize how fast I can adapt to new surroundings and at the same time fail to understand the impact of that ability. If you have been following us, you’ve likely seen us post about the air quality in Chiang Mai (like Alisha’s post from a few weeks ago: https://ourparadoxology.com/breathing-paradox/). From mid-January through late April or May, villagers in Northern Thailand, Laos, and Myanmar routinely burn the jungles, fields, ditches, and rice paddies. There’s debate as to the reason for this practice but the results are the same. Due to the mountainous terrain, lack of seasonal rainfall, and shortage of wind, the rising smoke has nowhere to go and subsequently hovers like a suffocating blanket over Chiang Mai.
Having lived on open prairies of North Central Nebraska, I never once thought about air quality. We were always breathing fresh air. “Bad air” was how we might have referred to seasonal pollen, but, even then, the pollen signified vibrant and healthy ecosystems all around us.
The Air Quality Index (AQI) has six color ranges: Green 1-50, Yellow 51-100, Orange 101-150, Red 151-200, Purple 201-300, and Maroon 301+. The air quality in Atkinson, NE, regularly hovers in single digit territory, or comfortably Green. When we stepped off the plane in Chiang Mai, the air quality was about 125 – orange. By mid-April, we had air quality readings in excess of 500. Just this week, it has dropped for the first time since we’ve lived here to below 100 – yellow. Comparatively, we now feel incredible, and yet, we are still a long way from the air quality we’re used to.
What I am learning through all of this is how easily I adjust to circumstances around me, regardless of if they are positive or negative. When adversity becomes normal, I adjust to the new normal without regard to the consequences. It is like the slow boiling frog analogy. I think It is easy to understand the metaphor of the water increasing temperature just like the air quality getting worse. Just like the proverbial frogs, I acclimate to the harsh environment around me. One might argue to be an enviable dexterity of personality. What I don’t as easily recognize is that when the environment starts to improve (the water temp drops or air quality cleans up), I become excited and thankful for the relief, but don’t even realize that the new present conditions are still worse than what I should expect or desire. A water temperature of 120 is far less than 212, but not remotely close to the temperature a frog would normally be expected to thrive in.
While it’s a skill and positive attribute having the ability to function amid turmoil, tribulation, adversity, or hardships, the danger is being content with the new normal, or adjusting to a dangerous situation that isn’t as bad as it was at its worst, but still worse than it was before the situation arose in the first place. To put it another way, a child may start off clean but when he finds an irresistible mud puddle and proceeds to cover himself head to toe, the first action is to hose him off. It’s true that he’s cleaner than he was when the mud was caked in his hair, but it’s not the same as being clean.
My spiritual journey is the same. I may not be as flagrantly bad as I once was, but that’s not the same as being as clean as I should be. My ability to adapt is not a strength when it comes to getting comfortable to the sin around me, even when I experience great relief from previous degrees of sinful bondage. I think Satan uses the skill of contentment as a weapon against improvement: I’m better than I once was, but that is not the same as being as good as I should be. It’s not an argument for effort. I can’t clean my sin away more than I can make it rain to clear the smoke. My ability to adjust easily to new situations can subsequently be a barrier preventing me from experiencing the necessary cleansing only Jesus’ blood can offer.
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Som Tam
Today I tried Som Tam. We ordered it on Food Panda and it came in this big bag, which is pretty normal in Thai delivery. Thai coffee shops often deliver their drinks in bags like these with a cup of ice next to them.
Som Tam is Thai Green Papaya Salad. It is usually made with unripe or green papaya, Thai chillies, garlic, peanuts, fish sauce, and limes. There are hundreds of other things you could add of course but those are the basic ingredients. This one also had shrimp, green beans, and tomatoes.
Som Tam is one of my dad’s favorite dishes. I loved the flavor. It was a perfect balance of sour papaya and vegetables. One thing they didn’t balance though was the spice level. My mouth was on fire. I was melting ice cubes in seconds by breathing on them. I could only take a couple of bites before my eyes started watering. I offered my sister, Selah, 5 baht (Thai currency. Only about 15 cents, but it goes pretty far.) if she would take a bite. One bite and she was tearing up too. The other thing off balance was the texture. It was crunchy and stringy and kept getting in between my teeth.
I would strongly suggest trying Som Tam, but when you do, order it “not spicy” or prepare for your last meal.
Part of the reason I wanted to order Som Tam is because I tried some potato chips a while back that were Charcoal Grilled Chicken & Som Tam flavored chips. The chips tasted like a BBQ chip at first but then I really got the chicken flavor. And then, when I swallowed the chip, the sour Som Tam flavor hit the back of my tongue. They really did taste almost exactly like Chicken and Som Tam.
P.S. My dad came home and tried the Som Tam and said it wasn’t the spiciest ส้มตำ (Som Tam) he has had. That made me a little mad.
P.P.S I was not lying about the 5 Baht (or Haa Baht). If the exchange rates are good, 35 baht is about one dollar.
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Road Trip Chips
Try saying that 5 times fast.
If you walk into any 7Eleven in Thailand there will probably be a whole row of potato chips. And there will probably be at least 25 different flavors that you would never find in America. But not all of them taste like Thai food. We found these two flavors at an 7Eleven on our trip to Myanmar (or how the Thai say it, PaMaa, or, พม่า,) and we had to try them. First we tried the double cheeseburger. No one in my family liked them. They tasted like over-peppered American cheese with a tiny bit of a pickle taste.
The Carbonara Parmesan weren’t bad but we don’t need to get them again. They taste like Carbonara (creamy spaghetti) with a ton of salt, a little lemon, and much more parmesan than I like.
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Breathing Paradox
In the life we left behind, I was the kind of person who avoided shampoo with parabens or sulphates. I paid a premium for natural deodorant even though it stains your clothes (and admittedly doesn’t even always “cut it”). I chose all-natural soaps and lotions, but also felt that taking care of our skin was actually more about what we ate than what we put on it: so we avoided processed foods and ate a lot of fresh meat and produce. I chose organic when I could and most of the meat that filled our freezers were from animals that were raised and processed within 15 miles of our home. I loved having our own chickens to supply organic eggs and kept a compost bin so that I could grow garden produce and care for our landscape in a way I felt was most consistent with the garden of Eden. My kids ate more vegetables than most and knowing that I was doing all I could to keep them healthy was important to me: a part of my identity, really.
We rarely had sugary drinks, and never artificial sweeteners. Although we loved fresh-squeezed lemonade for a treat, we drank a lot of water…and GOOD water. For a while, we lived near springs that I felt must supply our well because we had the most delicious drinking water at the ranch that I had ever tasted. When we moved away from the springs, we ran our (still very good quality) city water through a reverse osmosis system to make it the best we could. And then got a fridge and ice dispenser that filtered it yet again. Our water bottles were stainless steel or glass…because that is easy enough to do if what they say about drinking from plastic is true. Our leftovers were stored in glass containers, too, and we didn’t even have a microwave. These were all healthy choices I had the luxury to make in that life: and prioritizing the health of my family felt right and good. After all, God made these bodies of ours and gave them to us to use in serving him and to enjoy living in every day.
You know what else we had? Something I never considered as a notable factor in our health: the air we breathed. I took it for granted. We lived in a small town surrounded by more plants than people. The air we breathed each day was probably among the purest on earth, EVEN when the wind blew the smell from the sale barn into town.
Then God, my God, the God who loves each member of my family in unspeakable ways, asked us all to move to the other side of the planet. For the last few months we have been breathing THE WORST quality of air on earth. This is not an exaggeration, but a confirmed fact:
Thai City Tops World Pollution Table
We’ve all suffered headaches and noticed just how tired we feel each day, despite the fact that we have equipped our home with several air purifiers and are able to stay sealed indoors during the worst of it. It has been hot and sunny, and yet the sky has been nothing but shades of gray.
This is a part of the paradox we live.
I no longer have a budget that can support my all-natural body care regiment, nor access to the same kind of food options to feed my family (though I am finding new treasures in the local markets). The water that comes from the faucet must do for showering, washing dishes, and even brushing our teeth; but it is not safe to drink…so we have drinking water delivered in big re-usable PLASTIC bottles. But all of these adjustments confronting our bodies pale in comparison to the difference I see and feel in the air we breathe.
I once spoke on the the Breath of God: teaching that the Hebrew word referring the the Spirit or Breath of God was the same as the Hebrew word for wind. In some mysterious way we are not able to fully comprehend, I believe the air we breathe is 78% Nitrogen, 21% Oxygen, and 1% other gases AND ALSO 100% the Breath of God. So it truly saddens me to see it so polluted. It breaks my heart to realize that most of the people we now surround ourselves with have NEVER known the kind of pure air I’ve breathed my entire life. Nor do they know of the life-giving, soul-cleansing, power that comes from the knowledge and acceptance of the Breath of God.
A few days ago we finally had a major cleansing rain. The difference between the air today and the air a month ago is stark. We can now see far enough to know that our entire city is surrounded by mountain ranges not just smog. However, now that I know how one measures air quality, I am aware that even when the air looks this clear, it is still not as clean as the air back home at its worst. And I imagine our Nebraska ranch land air is nowhere close to as perfect as it was the day God breathed the world into existence. (This idea has Rod thinking in kingdom metaphors as well, see his post: https://ourparadoxology.com/it-could-be-worse-is-not-the-same-as-being-good/). Someday, the kingdom will come and the whole earth will be made new. I pray my new neighbors will be with me in that kingdom, when we taste the Breath of God free of all contaminates. Come Lord Jesus, Come.
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Celebrating Tallulah
4 years ago, we met our Tallulah. When she first saw us, she ran away. When it was time to take her home, she kicked and screamed. When we got “home” to the little apartment we had rented, she was determined to keep her jacket and backpack on, ready to go at a moments notice. When it was time to go to bed, I laid beside her and watched huge crocodile tears roll down her face. When I laid my hand on her in an attempt to comfort her, she lifted it off and set it down on the bed beside her. She could not yet feel our love. She was so big and brave, and yet so tiny and broken.
I think they quit shaving her hair at the orphanage when they knew she had a family coming for her, but–even though she was dressed in pink–other adoptive families asked if this was our “little guy.” So I was determined that our beautiful girl should have long hair, and kept at it for years even when we had to adjust our plans to accommodate Tallulah’s DIY haircuts.
Last week, we celebrated Tallulah’s 14th Birthday, and our teenager got a new grown-up “do.” The gentleman who cut her hair was wonderful, and made her feel so so pretty!
When we returned home, she was eager to show off her new hair and was excited by the surprises and celebration dad and her siblings had prepared while we were gone.
But it’s this video that takes the cake…wait for the moment when she knows, for sure, that this song is all about her!
Love sure looks good on her!
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แมงมุม! (SPIDER!)
Living in Thailand has its privileges but it also has its downfalls: like sharing our home with unwanted guests. We have found countless geckos and ants in our kitchen, but everyone (in my family) can agree that geckos are better than these disgusting, eight-legged fiends that trespass into our dining room.
แมงมุม was very smart and hard to kill, even with the state-of-the-art bug smasher my mother created with my father’s shoe and a broom.
Somehow we got it trapped in a container and set it outside. And, while we were still freaking out, Dad came home, shook up the box, dumped the spider on the road, and stomped on it.
P.S. Just know that if God ever calls you to Thailand you will have unwanted critters in your house. No doubt about it.
P.P.S. My mom is not sure about the factual basis of that final statement. She still has hope that it is not true.
