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Good News of Great Joy
God has woven our story.
When we were preparing to move to Thailand, we told many people the story of how God had been working in our lives for nearly twenty years to bring us to this calling and prepare us for this work. I shared about my hesitation to accept that God would be calling us to move to the other side of the world right when it felt to me that it was time to move into a more settled season for our family.
You see, it was just as we were finishing up on renovations of our first home (a fixer-upper in Colorado) that it was time for Rod to move from his job in law enforcement in CO to work on the family ranch in North Central Nebraska, so we moved to a new home that had recently suffered significant flood damage (an even bigger fixer-upper). It was just about when we were finishing up renovations on the ranch home that we needed to move to town to pour our energy into a new business venture that we were struggling to get off the ground. This move came with another new home: the biggest fixer-upper project yet. I told anyone who came to listen to our story that, as we neared the completion of our latest and greatest home renovation project, I had started to really dig my feet in. “Don’t make me move” became a mantra I repeated in contexts that hardly warranted such “drama.” So when Rod told me he was feeling called to move—not just to a new house and a new job—but to the other side of the world, I did not respond with the ready “Here I am LORD; Send me.” that my 10 year old self had longed for an opportunity to say.
When sharing our story, I admitted that I could see how the hand of God had been preparing my husband for this next adventure in every place he had sent us. Rod’s criminal justice degree, elite police academy training, and work in law enforcement had prepared him for the work he was being called to do in rescuing victims of child trafficking. When managing the family ranch in Nebraska, he had gained expertise in land management that would prove useful in helping to establish self-sustainable practices at the ZOE Child Rescue Center and Children’s Home. The knowledge and skills he developed while operating our own small businesses would also be instrumental in other projects ZOE is currently pursuing. It was not hard to see God’s hand at work in beautiful ways in my husband’s story, and I am sincerely honored that his story is my story, too. Of course we would follow God in this next adventure!
That story I told was true. All of it. But it wasn’t the whole story. There is another very important thread woven into each of those homes we lived in, loved, and left. You see, there was another calling on my life that, in the midst of all our pursuits, sometimes seemed to take the back seat. Relying on God’s sovereignty, I trusted it would all come together in His time…which often seems to be a bit slower than we expect it will be. But this last, biggest move felt like so many doors closing on my own truest calling…and it was difficult for me to make sense of why God would want to do that.
Another Thread
Let me back up a bit. Early in our marriage, we lived in a one bedroom of a house we shared with three of Rod’s fraternity brothers. After that, we spent a few months in a rented house while preparing to move to Thailand for some missions/relief work we were doing. We stayed in too many places throughout our year in Thailand to even count: but none of them were home. When we moved back to America, we rented a great apartment from which we could invest our time in my seminary studies and Rod’s academy training. It was only when we were pregnant with our first child that we moved into our first home. Building each home, for me, was always—really—about building our family.
Let me back up a bit further. When I was a girl, maybe 10 or 11 years old, I read an article in a “Focus on the Family” newsletter that was sitting on our kitchen counter. It was about a large family that had grown with a mix of biological and adopted children. I told God I wanted to have a family like that someday. He told me that is what HE wanted for me as well. I had such confidence in my call to be the mother of a large family that I always struggled to figure out what other kind of career I might pursue or what other dreams or ambitions might be worth pouring my time, energy, and talents into. In an age where little girls were taught to dream big and shoot for the stars, my heart was inescapably drawn to visions of home and family. In the deepest part of my being, I carried around a picture that God gave me of the family I would have one day: The faces were blurry, but there were a lot of them. In case I have not yet made it clear: the truest calling on my life since I was a girl, and the deepest longing of my heart, has been to have a home filled with a big, beautiful family. That desire and calling is the backdrop of every other story my life might tell.
Growing our family according to God’s timing.
While living in our first home in Colorado, we had our first two children. Honestly, compared to stories others tell, those pregnancies were easy. I was made to do that. Because the picture of my family I carried around in my head included many children that did not look like me, however, we pursued adoption next. We saved up and jumped in as soon as we were allowed (based on rules about the ages of other children in the home). Adoption from Thailand is a long, slow process. It wasn’t until 2015 (over three years after moving to our home at the ranch) that we finally brought Jeremiah home. That same year, we completed all the training and home certification to become licensed foster parents. We said “yes” each time we were asked about a placement, but each time another family was found closer to the children’s home or school district. We inquired about children on adoption advocacy lists who were in foster care waiting for a chance for permanency (usually sibling sets and older children). For one reason or another, we never received any of those placements either.
Doors Closing
When we moved to town, we moved into a home that I knew would not pass all the licensing standards without significant work, so we let our foster care license lapse. That move meant closing some doors in the process of growing our family. However, it was also at that time we were in the beginning stages of our next international adoption process. We saw Tallulah and Elijah in an advocacy post on Facebook and agreed they would be the next children we would pursue for adoption into our family. They were living in a special needs orphanage in China and China’s strict adoption policy stated they could be adopted only one at a time. Tallulah came home to our home in Atkinson in May of 2019. We would have to wait a full year (until May of 2020) to submit our application and dossier to adopt Eli. However, COVID shut the world down beginning in February of that year. Since then, we’ve been stalled in our adoption process as one of many waiting families longing to bring their children home from China.
Honestly, every day that passed with no word from China it seemed less likely the program would never re-open. For years, it has seemed unlikely that our adoption of Eli would ever be completed. Still, hope dies hard, so we did what we could to keep that door open. While we prayed that we would see Eli again on the day he became our son, we also prayed about how else God might desire to grow our family and fulfill this calling on my life.
We knew that our move to Thailand would mean we could no longer adopt children through Nebraska foster care. We knew that we would no longer qualify to adopt a child from Thailand as our family is too large for their international adoption program policies. We also knew that, as missionaries, our income would no longer qualify us for many other international adoption programs, even if we were able to figure our way through the red tape of the immigration process for adopting internationally while living in a different foreign country. We also knew that if we would ever have more children biologically, the clock was ticking, as I am now 40 years old. It seemed we were facing so many closed doors.
Our Plans In God’s Hand
We decided to leave both our stalled Chinese adoption and our chance at having more biological children in God’s hands. A pregnancy would disrupt the adoption of Eli but if we waited too much longer, we might no longer be able to have children biologically. We figured that, even if China DID re-open the program, there were so many families “in line” ahead of us (farther along in the process when it shut down), we might even be able to have a baby while waiting. When it came to be our turn to complete the adoption of Eli, that baby might already be a year old and cause no big complication.
It was just days after scheduling Rod’s scout trip to Thailand for the final stage of his interview and employment process with ZOE that I learned I was pregnant! This felt like a confirmation not only of the calling I received as a girl longing for a large family (my family was not done growing!), it also felt like confirmation that both Rod and I were walking into callings that God had prepared in advance for us.
Later, while Rod was in Thailand gaining confirmation and excitement for the journey we were soon to embark on with our family, the newest baby I’d wrapped my whole heart around died inside me.
We moved forward in the hope that God desired to knit another child together in my womb just as much as I desired him to do so. A few months after moving to Thailand, and almost exactly one year after we lost that baby, I visited the doctor for some health issues I was having. I wasn’t sure if what I was feeling was just the result of a drastic change in our diet, the severely polluted air we were breathing, or something else…but I knew something was wrong. Some tests revealed an infection, and when I went in for treatment, the doctor did some further testing and examination. When I left the hospital that day, it was with a diagnosis of Endometriosis: the most common form of infertility in women today.
The only treatments for the symptoms I’d been experiencing were hormonal and would close my womb. I decided instead to deal with the symptoms so that what seemed to be our final opportunity to grow our family would not turn out to be yet another closed door. I also worked to accept the fact that IF the door could still be considered open, it was barely a crack: there was a chance I could still get pregnant naturally, but it was very slim.
Hope and Loss
Over the next several months, I talked to God about what he was doing in my life. I asked if I misheard him when I was a girl, or if I had gotten off-course in pursuing and prioritizing his calling on my life. I felt reassurance of his love for me about all things past, and we talked about what he might desire of me next. While my longing to continue to grow my family did not go away, I decided it would be trumped by the deep gratitude I feel for the blessings already in my life, and somehow my unsettled seeking was balanced equally with the peace that surpasses understanding. Thinking about what else God might have in store for me, if it was not more children, even started to feel fun and exciting. He has already proven time and time again in my life that he has good things in store. The journey is always onward and upward.
It was when we were in Taipei, the day the big earthquake hit, that I discovered I was pregnant. The hope and excitement I had to grow my family felt new all over again. In some ways, I wanted to shout it from the mountaintops: look what God has done! However, I also felt a very real need to keep it quiet. The moment our pregnancy became public, it felt to me our adoption process would be ending…and I wasn’t ready for that. If we ended the adoption process and then lost the baby, like we’d lost the last one, we would be losing both of our boys in one fell swoop… and since walking beside a dear friend when she lost her beloved child at 34 weeks, it still never really felt “safe” to make such an announcement given what was at stake for our family.
While we anticipated the news for years, it was only a little over three months ago that China officially, permanently, closed their adoption program. Our Elijah is now 12 years old and will never be able to come home. The grief of this knowledge was admittedly tempered with the joy of the boy growing in my womb…and the comfort that we had not somehow made the wrong choice in praying for a baby while also praying to bring Eli home. But I still was not ready to make “Facebook official” the news of the little boy growing in my womb while that joy was still intertwined with sadness surrounding the other son we had loved and lost.
Unto us a Child is Born
On November 20, 2024, Noah William Keim entered this world. The next day, I am sure many of my stateside Facebook friends who were on the other side of the world while I was growing enormous, were surprised by our Facebook posts announcing his arrival.
While the news of the arrival of a new baby is easily met with joy, my joy is undeniably magnified in the context of the whole story. God is weaving a masterpiece, and I am right in the middle of it!
This child is so very deeply loved and undeniably wanted. This thread of our story bears the fingerprint of God as surely any other part. Carrying this child in my womb, bringing him into this world, and nurturing him each day is such an immense privilege. He is my hearts’ deepest longing, an answer to countless prayers, the preservation of a promise, and an embodiment of my truest calling. God has done this, and I am forever grateful.
For this child I have prayed, and the LORD has granted me that which I asked of him.
1 Samuel 1:27
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Learning Thai
As you probably know, our family lives in Thailand. You also probably know that, in Thailand, they speak Thai, not English. While kids are taught English in schools here, and there are several translators living here, 98% of the population knows either no English or only enough to sell you their product. Understandably, us few foreigners here should learn their language instead of expecting them to speak our language. So, that is what we have been doing, even before moving here; Learning Thai.
For a few months before we moved to Thailand, we were learning how to read and write Thai while also trying to learn the vocabulary. Using an online course, we actually got pretty good with reading and writing. However, our vocabulary was not there. The only words I could remember, were the words that are actually English words said in a Thai accent like สลัด (Sa-lad) and ชีส (Cheee-s).
We moved to Thailand only knowing how to read pretty well (although not fluently) and only knowing “Hello,” “Thank you,” and “Goodbye” (which happens to be the same word as “Hello”). Obviously, we weren’t going to get around as well as we wanted only knowing one word. Therefore, we started studying Thai at Lanna Language School. Within a few weeks of 2-hour classes on Mondays, we were already learning a lot more than we ever could have with online courses. Our teacher at Lanna, Khruu (Teacher) Lukmii, was very surprised that we could read and write Thai, yet knew no words. Usually when learning a new language, teachers prefer to teach vocab before trying to teach grammar rules and how to write. However, she soon got used to spelling words in Thai for us and said we had the best pronunciation of any of her students.
Instead of online courses, we were now learning Thai from a native Thai speaker. Our Thai improved immensely and were soon able to order food and buy groceries confidently in Thai. As great as that was, we didn’t think we were learning Thai the best we could, and needed more help. Additionally, Lanna Language School was 45 minutes to over an hour away from our home (depending on traffic)! Lanna Language School is located in หางดง (Hang Dong) district. Our family, however, lives in ดอยสะเก็ด (Doi Saket) district. That made it about 45min-1hour trip just to get there, and then we would eat because our class was in the late afternoon, and then come back home when it started to get dark. That made some days nearly 5 hours for Thai class. It was such a time commitment and challenge living so far away, especially because we needed to move to a new house which was an additional 20 minutes farther from หางดง (Hang Dong). Plus, my parents, who attended separate Thai classes, wanted more classes per week and the thought of making the commute to Lanna Language School more than once a week was insanity.
Our good friends, Lori and Simpson Tsang, (other ZOE missionaries) recommended their teacher ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) to my parents. Lori and Simpson both speak great Thai and they lived in ฟลอร่าวิลล์ (Floraville) our old neighborhood. ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) taught from her house which was only 20 minutes from our house. So, my mom and dad started going to her classes in addition to Lanna. They loved it. They both got noticeably better and more confident in their Thai, and they enjoyed the much shorter commute. Us kids only met ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) once when she taught us how to make Grathongs (don’t know how to spell that in Thai), but our parents wanted to see if we would like her and consider changing classes. We had the chance to do that when Lori and Simpson went to America for a few weeks to raise support and visit friends and family. Since Lori didn’t want to stop paying ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) for a few months, she and ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) offered for Selah, Jeremiah, and I to take over the classes and see how we liked learning with ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em). It was really nice and generous from both of them because Lori payed for all the classes and ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) kept it at the price of teaching one person instead of three.
In addition to going to Lanna every Monday, we started taking lessons with ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) on วันอังคาร (Tuesday) and วันพฤหัสบดี (Thursday), for around 6 weeks. We loved it. One thing about ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) that was (and is) very helpful, is the fact she is a Christian, as well as a born and raised Thai person. She knows and understands all the culture and religious practices of the Buddhists, even though she doesn’t practice or worship along side them. When we would learn with Khruu Lukmii, it was different. She was a devout buddhist. She even made sure we knew that the “ghosts” and “spirits” were real. I, as a Christian, do believe in spirits and demons and maybe even ghosts, but I am not going to buy a shrine and cover it in flowers and soda (they really do offer soda and candy to spirits) to ward them off. ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) explains the importance of different flowers on shrines and teaches us about Thai holidays such as Songkran and Loi Grathong (click to learn more about). She even told us about certain buddhist monks that practice black magic and sorcery, and how to stay away from them.
After a few weeks, we decided to quit Lanna Language School and go full time at ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em’s). After a lot of trial and error we now have a weekly schedule. Mom and Dad go for 2-hour classes every Monday and Thrusday afternoons. Selah, Jeremiah, and I, have class every Tuesday afternoon. And then just Selah and I have class on Friday mornings. On Tuesday, we learn vocabulary. And on Friday, Selah and I, improve our reading and writing (which I am really good at). Even though we could read and write pretty well before Thai class, our Friday classes with ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) have improved our reading and writing skill exponentially. All the Thai I have scattered throughout this post, I can read in seconds. I am constantly complemented on my speed when reading and my pronunciations are better than most foreigners (including my parents), especially when they are only taught vocab before reading and writing.
Some little things to know about Thai:
Thai is a tonal language, meaning they have different tones which change the word. One good example is with ใกล้ (Glaai) and ไกล (Glaai). ใกล้ (Glaai) is pronounced with a falling tone where your voice starts a little high and the falls in to a lower tone and it means NEAR. ไกล (Glaai) is pronounced in a flat even tone (mid tone) which is how you would basically talk and it means FAR. Yes, ใกล้ (Glaai) and ใกล (Glaai) are complete opposites just because they have different tones. Learning a tonal language has also showed me that English, and every other language is a little tonal too. I mean, to show surprise we take a higher tone of voice. To ask a question, we usually rise the tone, or if answering a question with a question you make your voice fall a little bit. Tones in English can make the same word be either a command, a question, a statement, or an accusation.
Second thing to know about Thai. English has 24 consonants and 5 vowels (6 if you count Y but who does that?). Thai has 44 consonants and 16 vowel symbols which can mix and match to make at least 32 vowel sounds! Every consonant belongs in one of three classes, High Class, Middle Class, and Low Class. The class the letter belongs in will change the tone of tone of the word. Most letters belong in Low class, but there are two letters, อ(Or Aan) and ห(Hor Hiib), that will sometimes be silent and put in-front of words to change the tone of the word. ห (Hor Hiib) is a high class letter that either makes the “h” sound or is silent and changes the word or syllable to High Class which will change the tone of the word. อ (Or Aan) is a middle class letter that is a consonant that is silent and silent to change the word or syllable to middle class which, also, changes the tone of the word. อ can also be considered a vowel and makes a sound which is kinda like “or” but the “r” isn’t pronounced.
Third thing, the way to figure out the tone of a word is the most confusing thing on the planet! ครู เอ็ม (Khruu Em) even says so! Here is what a Thai tone chart looks like;
as you can see, when figuring out the tone of a single syllable you have to take into account, the class of the syllable, the length of the vowel (for most vowels have along version and a short version), whether the ending consonant is soft or hard, and then you have to figure out what it is with the tone mark on top. All of that to find out the tone of a single syllable! And you cannot just ignore the tone because it literally makes the difference between, “I like to ride on my bike,” and “I like to poop on my bike.” I am not kidding. “Poop” and “Ride” are the same word with different tones.
Some other things about Thai is, like how in English we say “please” to be polite, they add คา่ (Ka) if you’re female and ครับ (Krab) if you’re male, to nearly every sentence. I would say it is one of my worst problems when speaking Thai to forget to add ครับ (Krab).
Also, you should rarely trust the transliterations. For example, if you come to visit, you may see the spelling of “Hello” spelled like this
This is incorrect. The Thai word for “Hello” (and goodbye) is สวัสดี and then ครับ (Krab) or คา่ (Ka). สวัสดี should be transliterated like Sa-wat-dee not Sa-was-dee. Here’s why, the letter “ส” makes the “S” sound unless it is at the end of a syllable, then it makes a hard “T” or a “D” sound. However, when amateur translators and/or computers translate, they just see “ส” and go, “Hey, that makes the ‘S’ sound!” and translate it like so. There are several letters that make different sounds if they are the end of a syllable than when they are at the beginning or middle of the syllable. In fact, that is why were pronouncing Jeremiah’s Thai name wrong his whole life. When he was first adopted, his birth certificate showed his Thai name as ประการ, and they transliterated it, Prakarn. This is totally incorrect. First of all, “ป” (Bpor Bplaa) makes a sound that is in-between a “P” sound and a “B” sound. It is not one or the other. “ป” is not a sound in the English language and does not make the “P” sound. Secondly, in Thai they roll or trill their Rs. Not really a mistake in the translation but it was another way we were mispronouncing his name. Thirdly, the “ก” makes a sound in-between a “G” and a “K” sound. A little more like a G but not a K. Fourthly, “ร” is one of the many letters that make a different sound whether it is at the beginning or end of a syllable. In the beginning or middle of the syllable, it makes the trilled “R” sound. At the end of a syllable, it makes an “N” sound, don’t ask me why. But instead of translating it one way or the other, they just put both sounds it makes. Therefore, it shouldn’t be written or pronounced Prakarn (Pra-car-n) it should be written and pronounced something like BpraGkan (ปรa-กaan).
I could go on and on about other little things in Thai like how if you mix 2 “ร” (which make a trilled R sound), you get (Aan). No idea why. Or I could talk about how ใ and ไ are the exact same, making the “I” sound (as in ice). Or how some vowels go on top of the consonant like อั (ah) or below the consonant like อู (oooh) or to the left of the consonant like เอ (eh or ay) or on the right of the consonant like อา (ahh). I could talk about how the consonants, อ ว ร, can all become vowels. But, I won’t, because that would be too long.
P.S. Here are some very boring videos of us speaking Thai.
*Fun Fact* We made these videos with Khruu Em. She can send them to the government to prove she is teaching us Thai, and we can use them to get school credit for learning a foreign language. But, though Khruu Em is fluent in English, she is not confident in her spelling so we wrote the subtitles for her.*
Yes, I know, my voice is terrible.
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Conversations with the Keim Kids
During the last school year, we (the Keim kids) set up a YouTube channel. Our friends in Atkinson Nebraska sent us pictures and asked us questions about our life in Thailand. We made videos to answer their questions, but instead of just making videos for them we decided to put all the videos we made on YouTube so everybody can see them. Josiah, Selah, and I did all the work so that we could learn about it and have fun with it.
These are all the videos we made so far if you want to see them:
Episode #1
Episode #2
Episode #3
Episode #4
Episode #5
Episode #6
Episode #7
Episode#8
Episode#9
Okay I got to go now, so see you next time!
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On the Road
It is so hard to capture in a photo the experience of driving in Thailand. Before we moved, I was very worried about my ability to adapt to driving on what felt like the “wrong side” of the car and the “wrong side” of the road. In truth, making this change was not as difficult as I imagined it would be. It does not feel “wrong” anymore at all…just different.
Handling the flow of traffic and wrapping my mind around a whole different set of safety standards has proven to be the bigger challenge to adapt to. Getting into our car each day and driving to our various destinations is (statistically) the most dangerous thing any of us does voluntarily over and over again. In Thailand, this risk feels exponentially higher. The motorcycles weaving in and out between the cars as we drive at high speeds (some of them with 3-4 people piled on and moms holding babies in their arms); the trucks piled high with boxes, bags and people; the narrowness of many 2-way roads; and the street sellers who take advantage of the waits at red lights all require a greater level of attentiveness than any experience I’ve had driving in America!
Here are some of the daily sites of being on the road in Thailand:
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My Home
Autobiography Part 5
I was born in Denver Colorado, after I turned one we moved to Atkinson; but we lived outside of town. When I was six years old we moved into town. Every time we moved; I liked the next house more that the first. I loved our home at the ranch and was sad to move, but then I started to like our next home even more (after we got all of the bats out of the house of course). It wasn’t just because of the house itself that I liked it, it was because of the life it gave me. When we moved, we met our neighbors and have been good friends ever since. Also, I lived closer to my friend, Paisley, and I got to see her more often out of school. We also started home schooling in that house, which was a big–but great–change.
Here’s the thing: Our house was the oldest house in town. Most of the people in the town thought we were crazy for wanting to move in. There wasn’t a single room in the house that we didn’t redo, and it took a very long time. Like I said, we moved in when I was six years old, and we finished the house when I was ten. That is a LONG time. But after all that time it was finished, and we even had an open house at our house and everyone in town was invited to come see our house as it was completely remodeled.
Our house was finished around Christmas time. When May came, the big news hit: We were moving again. This time, we were moving to Thailand. There were a lot of tears shed that night. I remember my mom calling us for a family meeting. I asked her if it was good news and she just said, “I think so”. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it was not that. Everyone was sad, but I think we were all a little bit happy too. Even if we didn’t say we were happy, I think that there was a little bit of happiness somewhere.
Then the journey began. We started fundraising by telling our friends and preaching in churches (this was mostly my parents work). Our church even hosted us a goodbye party and gave us a great farewell. We gave up a lot. I gave up dance, which was really hard for me. My dad gave up his business. And we all gave up things like our family, friends, and home. Even though it was hard, we made the most of it and came to Thailand feeling hopeful. We knew that this is where God wanted us to be, and we knew that new friends and a new life was waiting for us in Thailand.
Packing took a long time and a lot of effort. We had to think of all the things that we were going to want but we were also limited, so we had to think of all the things that we were going to need. Think about when you go on a trip and you must pack all your things. You are worried that you don’t have everything, and you must make sure you haven’t forgotten anything because you are not going to be back for some time. Well, think about that but you are not going to be back for two years! We had to make sure we got everything! When we got to the airport, we officially had thirteen checked bags and six carry-on suitcases. We also each had a back-pack on our back. We are a family of six, so that means we had a total of 25 bags!
We had three flights. The first flight was from Omaha to Detroit, the second flight was from Detroit to South Korea, and the third flight was from South Korea to Chiang Mai, Thailand. When we made it to Chiang Mai it was pretty late at night and we were all so tired that we could barely stay awake. We all were ready to get to our house and fall asleep. When we got to our new house some of the other missionaries gave us bed sheets and other things like shampoo and conditioner. Then, for the next week or two, missionaries took turns helping us shop for things that we would need and showing us their favorite places to get food. After a while, we started to finally settle in and Thailand slowly started to feel like home.
I have lived in Thailand for one year now, and I love it here. Even though I miss a lot of things in America, I think that I could live in Thailand for a long time.
PS. If you want to see our house in Atkinson, Nebraska for yourself, you can! Since we aren’t living in it right now, it is an airbnb for people to stay at. Check it out here:
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An Unplanned Trip to Laos
I don’t believe in luck or in jinxes, but whenever my mom says that we have to take a “short” trip to the Immigration Office, it seems we are actually in for a whole lot more. For example, this last trip was supposed to take “maybe two hours” if we get there early enough to be first in the queue line. I mean, we’ve done this kind of extension before and it was fairly simple. Mom was even hoping we would get home early enough to have a normal day of school. So, we left at 6:30 A.M. and got home at midnight. Here’s how it went: (read in a James Bond British accent, if you have one)
It was an early Thursday morning. The weather, some of the nicest I have seen since the Big Move. We all got into clean, respectable clothes, for this was the standard. We left as the sun was coming up, shining the world in its eerie light. We were some of the very first to arrive, acquiring queue numbers that would set us among the first to travel to the counter. We had some time before the counters would open, so we found the necessary forms and filled out the paperwork needed for this visit. Then, paperwork completed, we sat in the empty plastic chairs, and waited about 45 minutes before the counters opened. By then, there were no empty chairs and people were forced to stand.
After a kind gentleman came out to tell the novices (a category the likes of which we are not in) how to proceed, our queue number was called. My mother, my sisters, and I went to the counter and confidently passed them our passports and paperwork. They were supposed to look at them and verify the validity before handing them back and sending us on to the next set of chairs and row of counters with a new queue number in hand. But our life is not one of ease, for when we spoke to the dear officer behind the counter, he informed us we could only be permitted another 30 days in the fine country of Thailand if we first left the country at the border. So, accepting our ill-timed fate, we left and sat on the steps of the office, waiting for my father and brother to get their situations worked out (fortunately for them, they have VISAs of a different sort). My father then needed to stand in yet another line at yet another window for yet another process. While waiting for him to finish, my mother, siblings, and I went to the nearest 7 ELEVEn (which is, in fact, spelled as such) to get some snacks to satisfy our grumbling stomachs. This was the second time getting our sustenance from a petrol station that day, for we had earlier purchased fruit from a stand at a petrol station for our morning meal.
Our father met us, and from there we all left for another unexpected adventure. We piled in the car and left town to drive through the mountains of Chiangmai. By and by the hours went, though we all knew we still had several more kilometers to go. We stopped at a third petrol station to use the loo and to find our lunch. Fortunately, this was one of the fancier PTTs. Fancier meaning there was the popular KFC in addition to the Five Star Chicken vendor, Dunkin’ Donuts stand, Cafe Amazon, and, of course, 7 ELEVEn. Yet again, we ventured forward, this time making a dreadful mess in the car with a huge bucket of fried chicken in the middle seat.
Fast forward the hours passed. After several devices died and our only entertainment was staring out at the mountains, and we finally got to the border. Memories filled our brains from our previous failed trip to the Laos border (that fateful trip, we ended up turning back empty-handed and flying to Malaysia the next day). When we stepped out of the car, we immediately coughed and gagged for fresh air for the dreaded smoky season had already hit that region quite hard. We walked the short walk to the border from the parking lot and got in line behind the small hoard of backpackers that were there ahead of us. Leaving the father and brother behind, we journeyed to a new country. We each, in turn, handed the men our passports, scanned our fingerprints, and stared awkwardly at the face-surveying camera, before walking to the bus stop.
After a small wait, we climbed into the bus and drove for a singular minute over a wide river before stopping at another structure exactly like the one we had just left: that one in Thailand, this one in Laos. Leaving the bus, we stood in yet another line behind yet another counter. Upon discovering it to be the wrong line, we began again: another line, another counter. After handing over a pile of cash in exchange for Laotian VISAs and entry stamps in our passports (the likes of which would prove we left Thailand for a few minutes) back to the bus stop we headed. We were done standing and waiting, now we could sit and wait. After 30 minutes or so, we could board the next bus headed for Thailand. The scenery was beautiful for we were right by the mountains and they looked right out of a painting, especially with a film of smoke covering everything the naked eye could see. We boarded the bus and ventured back to Thailand.
Everything went rather smoothly after that. We drove another grueling 5 1/2 hours home in the dark, with leftover fried chicken and 7 ELEVEn for our supper. We did have the good fortune to find a 7 ELEVEn with an ice cream cooler, so our day was topped off with Thai quality ice cream for dessert.
We came home at midnight and immediately fell asleep. That was the end of it. Ha! It might never be the end of it. Nevertheless, this adventure is over, and a new one is coming. I can feel it.
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After 12 Days of Christmas: Epiphany!
As a grown-up, I don’t think I’ve ever taken the Christmas decorations down before today, and that was true before I knew Epiphany was even a thing. At first, I’d say it was just me dragging my feet about allowing the “most wonderful time of the year” to end. As far as it depended on me–I declared by lingering decorations–we would have our full 12 Days of Christmas even if the rest of the world around us was ready to move on into New Year’s Resolutions involving less clutter and fewer cookies.
The New Year celebrations in Thailand overshadowed Christmas, almost swallowing it up: the numbers 2024 were displayed in red and green almost as if it were synonymous with “Merry Christmas.” There are plenty of Christmas decorations around Chiang Mai, in keeping with the city’s intercultural flair. The last time I was anywhere a Christmas tree had been erected, it was still up…and I like that. 2024 is the year of the dragon, a tradition Thailand shares with other Eastern cultures: the red and gold New Year décor blends right in with the glitzy glittery sort of Christmas décor that seems to be favored here. [Sidenote: I’ve probably seen more of the puffy sort of tinsel garland this year than in the past 20 years of Christmases in America combined. It reminds me of my Grandma’s Christmas tree in the late 80s/early 90s…you know, around the same time in history that we rolled our jeans at the ankles so they poofed out like MC Hammer pants.]
Yes, our Christmas tree is still up. Christmas was truly lovely in all the most important ways for us this year. We had a joyful celebrations with the ZOE family, and hosted a Christmas party for the ZOE Child Rescue Team.
At our international church service, we heard scripture read in a multitude of languages I didn’t know existed and worshipped with believers from all over the world. We took our annual Christmas church service photo in front of palm trees instead of a Christmas tree, void of fancy dresses or sweater vests.
However, I admit the coziness of the days between Christmas Day and News Year’s Day left me wanting. I still snuggled under my “Joy to the World” blanket, drank my coffee hot (even though iced is more appropriate to the climate), and tried to bask in the glow of the Christmas tree in our living room for some heavy hours of reading and reflecting. But I missed my fireplace, the snow outside, the sound of the wind howling, and reddiwhip to put on my coffee.
I was today years old when I really realized just how culturally bound my “feeling of Christmas” has always been. Snow wasn’t a part of the first Christmas. There was no bedazzled Christmas tree beside the manger. Stockings weren’t hung by the chimney with care on the night Jesus was born in the stable. Of course I knew that … and yet those things have always been a part of how Christmas “feels” to me. Realizing that, Epiphany carries new weight for me this year and is more beautiful than ever before.
Traditionally, Epiphany is the day the church has set aside to remember the wise men coming to Bethlehem to find “he who has been born king of the Jews” (Matthew 2:2). The wise men came from the East. I am a Westerner, I think according to Western ideas and have been shaped by my Western culture. I now live in the East and am daily becoming accustomed to Eastern ideas and the deep-seated customs of Eastern culture. The men who came to find Jesus came from this side of the world. Buddha walked the earth hundreds of years before Jesus and so I wonder: were the wise men schooled in Buddhist thought like the kids here in Thailand are today?
The wise men were astrologers or magicians: wealthy men who accurately discerned a message written in the stars. They came to worship, but they were not Jews waiting for their Messiah: they were Gentiles from a foreign culture, with totally different ideas, practices, traditions, and culture. A lifetime of astrological study, a very long cross-country journey, and their diligent search for one bright star culminated as they “rejoiced exceedingly with great joy” over finding young Jesus (Matthew 2:10). They bowed in worship to a tiny king and lavished gifts upon him (Matthew 2:11). This wasn’t at the manger, but I am glad the wise men are a part of our nativity scene anyway…we need them in this story.
After the gifts were given and received, the wise men’s part in the greatest story ever told just ended: in a quiet, anti-climactic finale we are told they chose to “return home by another way” (Matthew 2:12). The wise men’s experience of Christmas brought exceedingly great joy and—also—complex feelings of a darker nature (fear? Anxiety?) that caused them to act in caution and secrecy. When they chose to “return home by another way” they were choosing to disobey the local government official’s direct orders (see Matthew 2:8). This, in part, led to the “Massacre of the Innocents:” the tragic deaths of so many innocent children at the hands of a power-hungry government. And so Matthew’s account of the Christmas story ends with weeping and lamentation that could be heard miles away (Matthew 2:18).
I scanned the Christmas accounts for emotive sort of words that give us clues to how that first Christmas may have “felt.” Here are a few of them, in no particular order: shame, resolve, contemplation, fear, rejoicing, great joy, warning, lamentation, weeping, refusal to be comforted, greatly troubled, fear, power, holy, wonderful, blessed, rejoicing, exaltation, mercy, great fear, great joy, haste, wondering, pondering, glorifying, praising, peace, marveled, give thanks, “and a sword will pierce through your own soul.”
Christmas is beautiful, as we celebrate our God who took on flesh in the most extraordinary way through the most ordinary of miracles. Christmas is complicated, for all the same reasons and more.
The celebration ends, after 12 days of Christmas, with Epiphany. Epiphany recognizes that Jesus is a gift not only to a specific people, but a gift unto all the world. The celebration of the coming of our LORD is one that transcends culture, and it has done so from the very beginning. Upon entering the world, Jesus radiated love so bright and so bold that the whole world could see. Those wise men from the East traveled far in search of the glory of God with lavish gifts and hearts of worship. Jesus came for the children of Israel AND for those in the East. He came for you. He came for me.
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Grace enough for this mom, too.
It is easy and fun to post pictures of our accomplishments when we are “ahead of the curve.” Like in 2019, when we dug in and worked hard to finish all of our homeschool goals in April before leaving for China to meet our Tallulah. Or 2020, when COVID shut downs left our homeschool days virtually unscathed. Or 2021 and 2022, when Selah set us a family goal to be done with school before her May birthday and we willingly complied with her request. It was an easy goal, we were on track to do so anyway.
It is now 2023. It is November. And we only just finished up the coursework that we’ve typically wrapped up in April or May. That is 6 months behind schedule for us, so it seems strange to take a picture…let alone post it for anyone to see. But in the spirit of #keepingitreal, here it is:
In a discussion I had about homeschool curriculum recently, it occurred to me that I have experience teaching all grades PreK-8. I’ve used the same Language Arts curriculum all along the way for every one of my kids (including various editions of the coursework as they were updated along the way). I suppose that means I’m your girl if you are looking for “mom who has experience homeschooling her kids using The Good and the Beautiful Curriculum.” Granted, that is a pretty specific niche of the world to claim expertise in, but I have found that I do indeed have plenty of advice to share as a part of a Facebook group or two.
Something I like about the homeschooling Facebook groups I am a part of is that people are genuinely asking for advice and help. When someone posts a question about the fourth grade concept they are struggling to understand themselves so that they can help their struggling child, others jump in within seconds offering exhaustive explanations, even posting pictures with steps written out or correct answers highlighted. There are always others who chime in with words of encouragement or at least a little huggy heart emoji, and rarely do you see any condescension or accusation. It is such a beautiful community of mothers who are taking responsibility for every aspect of their children’s education.
I am not on Facebook often enough (or in the right time zone) to be a part of most of those conversations, but I have chimed in several times when someone is asking for thoughts about the schedule they have put together for their day or sharing the list of curriculum they are about to purchase and the big question: “Does this cover everything?” I often have relevant input to offer regarding their specific schedule or curriculum selections, but most of my comments also include something along the lines of: “…but that is a lot, so be sure to give yourself plenty of grace if you can’t get it all accomplished each day!” Sure there are some who might seem not to be doing not quite enough regarding their kids academic development. However, what I see far more often is get-it-done, do-it-all homeschool moms like myself who pile too much on the plate and are in danger of forgetting to leave time for conversation, creativity, and the breaks that are sometimes needed for emotional processing when things just feel hard. It is easy to forget the WHY of homeschooling when we get caught up in the HOW.
I chime in when moms ask what do to at the end of the school year: “We aren’t done with level 1, can we just move on to level 2 so my daughter isn’t behind a grade level?” My advice is always DON’T SKIP it! There is so much good stuff at the end of each academic year: like wrapping up word lists, conducting final comparative assessments, the bigger creative writing assignments, and the sense of accomplishment they feel when finally getting through the “Personal Reader” that seemed so thick when they first cracked it open. I might say, “Sure you have the option to wrap it up early if you are just really burned out…but please don’t do it just for the sake of perception regarding grade level!”
I’ve also been known to comment on questions like: “My son is in second grade but reads at a 5th grade level, can we skip ahead a few levels to be sure she is challenged?” My advice, based on plenty of experience, is again DON’T SKIP! There are so many age-appropriate things to learn through the educational process besides just reading more advanced books. We’ve always just chosen more advanced literature for the personal reading time of our school day and taken confident baby steps when the concepts came easily.
Anyway, I say all of that simply to tell you that I decided to heed my own advice this year, and we didn’t skip a thing when we got colossally behind. We plugged away when we could, let life derail us when it insisted, and then plugged away again. I know that if it were some other homeschool mama living my life, I would have told her to relax and take the breaks needed for all the “life” that is happening. I might have said to her, “Give yourself some grace for the time being and jump back in when you find some semblance of normal that allows it (even if it is only a few days at a time).” And so, this time, I gave myself that grace as well. And I continue to do so daily.
We needed an extra 6 months, but I am glad we did not skip anything and I am also glad we took the time. We are all grateful to finally be moving on, though, too! Jeremiah shared one of his final writing assignments from Level 3 the other day, which you can read here. As a part of her Level 6 requirements, Selah practiced all kinds of prewriting strategies in order to create a series of autobiographical sketches then compile them into an autobiography. Part 1 is available here now and she plans to post the rest in pieces as she is able to add photos and re-format her writing for the blog.
Josiah actually finished his 8th grade curriculum before we moved to Thailand which is why he is not in the photo above. He has been working on high school language arts for the past several months, and I’ve asked him to share a recent “Insights Essay” he wrote on the blog as well. Potato chips and animal humor are more his M.O., but his talent is multi-faceted and deep. I pray his short essay will bless your heart as it did mine (I’ll try to remember to link it here when he publishes it). I do hope Tallulah will be included in our next photo as well: she is working hard on her letter sounds and may soon be ready for an adapted approach to this classical curriculum.
Homeschooling is not always easy: it involves so much input with very little recognition. But there are also days when these kids bless my socks off with the people they are becoming, the work they are producing, and ways they are thinking. I have the best seat in the house from which to watch it all unfold…but I am happy to give you all a glimpse as well 🙂
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Moving To Thailand
This personal narrative was originally written by Jeremiah Keim as a requirement of his coursework for The Good and the Beautiful Level 3 Language Arts.
The day mom and dad told us we were going to move to Thailand, I was scared because I thought I wouldn’t be able to see my friends again. I was sitting on the couch and it was dark outside when mom and dad told me and my brother and sisters. After I calmed down, I felt really excited about it. It took several days to pack and we made our house into a place for other people to stay. Finally, the week before we moved we went to spend time with our family. Personally, I felt really sad that we would have to leave them but also really happy because they said they would sometimes visit us.
When we went to the airport it was really early in the morning. When we got to the airport we said goodbye and then loaded all our stuff onto the plane. Our first plane ride, I took a nap and when I woke up we were nearly to Detroit. The next two flights were nice and comfy because I got to watch movies and wear soft, warm, fuzzy slippers. It was longer than I expected, but then we finally got to Thailand. I felt really happy because we met all the ZOE people and I finally got to breathe fresh air again (the air wasn’t really fresh it was actually smokey, but, hey, at least it was air that wasn’t inside the plane all night).
First, one of the missionaries took us to the house that we chose to live in. It was OK, but I was really scared of the geckos and of the snakes that might live here. Luckily, I haven’t seen any snakes. Eventually, I started to like geckos. I like to catch them and release them outside.
Next, the missionaries took us around to all their favorite restaurants and stuff. For example, we got to go with a missionary to a plant market. It was pretty fun. I saw lots of cactuses and Elephant Ear plants. Another example is that another missionary took us to this really cool art gallery where the paintings look super realistic, like you were holding a hammer in the painting or like you were fighting a dragon.
Also, one of the families took us to the zoo with them. It was really fun because we got to rent a golf cart and we saw a whole bunch of cool animals that live in Thailand and other places. Afterwards, we went to this awesome restaurant with an big pretend boat outside and we played tag on it.
I am really happy we live in Thailand now because my dad is helping ZOE stop child trafficking. I think my dad is doing what God made him to do. I want to support him and do what I can do to help raise money for ZOE so that we can give help to the kids who have been trafficked. My heart makes me feel like I want to help and give them a normal life again, because after being trafficked it would be hard.
THE END
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Airing our Dirty Laundry
Last time I lived in Thailand, I failed to take pictures of the “normal things.” In the years since, I discovered it was difficult to explain the basin of water in the bathroom that we used for bucket showers and flushing the toilet, and I wished I had taken pictures. So every once in a while I am the crazy person who takes pictures of the most uninteresting things I can think of: like laundry drying on a rack. I am also the person who documents the trip to the laundromat with photos of my children. Because there is a story of what God is doing in our lives even there.
When we renovated our home in America, I REALLY wanted a laundry room upstairs. It was one part of a huge process of reworking our home. See, in order to fit a triple bunk bed in the boys’ room (Eli was supposed to come home in 2020), we needed to move a wall and take over some space in the bathroom. This meant reworking the bathroom. The bathroom was sort of awkwardly large (we think it was originally the entire maid quarters of our 1890s home). We had knocked the exterior stairs out at an earlier phase of the renovation, so the bathroom wall included a second story exterior door to nowhere and I thought that wall should be occupied by the washer and dryer. This was totally possible if we also moved the shower and the door to the closet. And rerouted plumbing through 130 year old floorboards. And also rerouted wiring, which meant replacing all the old knob and tube kind (eh, details). A huge benefit of this idea was that by moving the washer and dryer out of the back entryway by the kitchen, we could gain mudroom space for shoes and coats. And since we were redoing that, we could also take over some space from the main level bathroom to create a pantry…as long as we got all new kitchen cabinets in a new arrangement so that we could cut a pantry door where it would need to be. Cutting into all these walls was helpful anyway so that electrical and plumbing could be correctly routed upstairs (yep, details 🙂 ).
My dad and my husband were amazing and worked so hard to accomplish this feat! It was certainly no small task, but I truly loved the finished product SO MUCH! Seriously, it was a game changer EVERY day. I could get a load of laundry done each morning while also aiding Tallulah in getting herself ready. And it was easy to stay on top of getting it all put away because it was seriously only a few steps to each person’s closet. Laundry never had to be toted up and down the stairs and the dirty laundry baskets were right there next to the shower, so it was almost as convenient to put dirty clothes where they belonged rather than leave them all over the floor! It was every bit as wonderful as I hoped it would be.
Then we moved to Thailand. My washing machine is now outside and we don’t have a dryer at all. At first, I had no regular laundry routine. The laundry on the line was never dry by sundown (around 6 pm) so the laundry stayed out all night. In the morning, it housed THOUSANDS of mosquitos who were taking refuge from the smoke and breeding inside our damp clothes. It felt like an accomplishment when I realized that getting the first load of laundry in by 7 am meant I could get two loads on the line in the morning AND they would be dry and ready to be put away at 4 pm. If I did 2 loads a day each weekday, I could stay on top of my family’s laundry needs. I also discovered pretty early that if I took over the front porch with drying racks, I didn’t run the risk of losing my progress to an afternoon rainstorm. Sometimes things need to be rewashed due to the droppings from the birds who nest in this grate thing on the porch ceiling…but not nearly as many as you might suspect based on the number of birds that swoop over my head while I hang the laundry each morning.
That worked through the hottest season and into the early rainy season…but then the truly rainy phase of the rainy season came. Now the laundry can be on the line for days on the porch and not ever be dry, because the air is just wet. All the time. On a sunny day, we can move the racks to the driveway, but it is so difficult to tell when the rain will come: it is a regular occurrence that without a moment’s notice it is pouring–even though the sun is still shining–and we are scrambling to run through the rain to pull in the clothes that are once again drenched. So instead, the laundry often takes over the living room and we use a fan to aid the drying process. This works alright.
There are still details we haven’t figured out. For example, I am still working to figure out how to get some of the funk smell out of dry-fit fabrics, but I think it helped the other day when I boiled a pot of water and soaked the worse offenders in a bucket first (we don’t have a water heater so most of the laundry is washed in cold water).
There was also the glorious day a rogue gecko slithered out of the bundle of socks and underwear I had just brought in to put away in my drawer. And so my boys got to dig around in their mother’s underwear drawer to find it and take it back outside since that gives me the heeby jeebies. Every day brings a new adventure around here.
We have another line strung between two poles under an awning outside where we dry towels. Bed sheets, though, are another challenge. One bed set takes over all the racks… and the sheets get covered with lint residue worse than the clothes do (you know all the stuff that you collect in the lint trap of the dryer? A lot of that ends up on the floor of the porch from shaking each thing out before hanging it…but with sheets it just stays stuck). I have declared that the best way to wash bedsheets is to take them all at once to the Otteri (the name of a chain of laundromats here) and to take advantage of the wall full of dryers!
Tallulah is a grand laundry helper and especially loves to help with the coins.
While it is a whole new system I had to learn and a lot of convenience we left behind, I really don’t hate it. I’ve found a rhythm that sort of works most days and have developed a lot of patience for all the mishaps. Dirty laundry is just one of the many little things in our lives that is both the same as always and also so very very different.
