Absence

I realize I've been lacking in my blog updates for the last few weeks. I wish I could say it was because we were off on a tropical adventure. The reality is that in the last month and a half, Gib had an emergency appendectomy, Levi was accidentally hit by a woman on a bicycle outside of our apartment, faced a bout with hand, foot and mouth virus (not a serious virus, but makes for an irritable toddler), sprained an ankle, and currently has the stomach flu.

Hello, adventure! Just not adventure of the tropical vacation kind.

I'm currently less than three weeks from my due date with our sweet little one, and I've been working to finish my research paper for class, get things organized and keep up with my boys!

It's been a bit of a crazy fall, but it's made me even more thankful for our wonderful friends and family, and the fact that I have two incredible guys here with me. Gibster has been taking good care of our family, even during his own recovery, and our little dude keeps us entertained while consistently melting our hearts.

And, we've had some really great moments, along with the less pleasant health issues. Levi loves singing Christmas carols, is learning to count to ten, and continues to amaze us with his memory and vocabulary. He's also become quite the fan taking his Flintstone vitamins.

I took a monthlong challenge of not eating out, and instead cooking every meal for our family. It was hard, especially living in a city that offers many delicious choices that are more convenient than dirtying dishes, but I learned some fun new recipes, and I thoroughly enjoyed knowing that our evenings would be spent together, eating healthy meals. And while we have eaten out since then, the challenge did motivate me to cook a lot more, which I love.

Gib now works one day a week at home, and while he does actually work during the day (truly!), it's nice to have him here for lunch, and Levi loves waking up knowing that his dada is out in the living room. Gib and one of his good friends also just completed an amazing construction project for a new piece of living room furniture for us. I am thoroughly impressed with the end result, and I know they had a lot of fun doing it.

So that's our fall in a nutshell!

Hoping everyone's Thanksgiving was enjoyable and that the remainder of 2012 is memorable in the most wonderful ways!

21 months!

Levi BLAZE!
I had to capitalize your last name because, in the last few days, when we greet you with Levi Blaze, you smile and repeat, "Blaaaaaze." I think you know that you are our little Blazer, full of energy and spunk.

Last week, as we were driving to the zoo, I noticed the signs posted as we neared one of our favorite places: Now entering the Adventure District. I smiled and realized how appropriate that sentiment was for life with you. Every day is a day in our own adventure district, and ooooooh how I wouldn't trade that for anything.

I realized, in going back and reading through some of my old blog post commemorating your monthly birthday milestones, that some of them… ok, many of them… are pretty sappy. I'm laughing now just thinking about that, but the truth is, I can't help it. I am so crazy in love with my little boy that you bring out the gushing adoration in me.

Your dada and I love continuing to watch you come into your own personality. One of my favorite sounds, and it happens a lot, is the sound of your dad laughing. Now, your dad's laugh is one thing I fell in love with in the very beginning, and now, that laugh is often a result of something you've just done. Soaking him during bathtime, squirming while he tries to dress you, or when he's giving you "goosies."

I love the bond that you and your dad share. There's nothing like watching my two boys together. You ask for him throughout the day, and as soon as you hear him come in the door after work, you run to make sure it's him, pause, and then take off toward your room, a mischievous glint in your eye, beckoning him to chase you. He never fails to take off after you, and the two of you laugh and laugh.

You've learned, from an early age, how fun your dad is. I am still learning how creative that man is. Today, for example, you were incredibly frustrated that "pump" (your pumpkin) would not stay on your lawnmower for a ride. It got to the point that I was ready to take the pumpkin outside for a little break, to focus on something else for a while. But as I was finishing up cooking breakfast, I heard the two of you talking about a "belt," and sure enough, I came in to see him taping pumpkin down so that it wouldn't move. You couldn't have been more pleased.

I've come home to find the two of you in a makeshift fort, or walking a newly constructed balance beam from boxes, or just laughing together. Adventure, I tell you. Always adventure.

You've gotten more physically daring in the last few months. It's not uncommon to get some bumps and bruises throughout the day, and this week you've flipped off of the ottoman not once but TWICE. You didn't mean to either time, and I learned a valuable lesson that day, that in the seconds it can take me to cross the room to remove you from your newest launching pad, you can become airborne.

At this stage in life, you are fascinated by the alphabet, and you know at least a dozen letters. I think your Grammy sparked your interest in this with her bath letters, and you love seeing the letters you know out in public. I am constantly amazed that you can point to a menu or a shirt or a book and call out the letters there. And words? Oh, my boy, you are a sponge, soaking up new words every day and repeating them back to us. You know the anatomy of a bicycle (seat, pedal, tire, handle), many of your body parts, animals and their sounds, and the difference between nighties, jeans, pants and shorts. And, you are becoming quite effective at verbally communicating what it is that you are asking for or would like to do, which is so fun.

And, while you are a lover of things physical and fun, you are also my sweet little boy. Sometimes, you reach out and say "hand," indicating you want to hold your momma's hand. Sometimes, you want to be held or rocked. Often, you want to sit in my lap and read or gaze up at me, pointing out my eyes, nose, cheeks, neck. I savor those moments so dearly.

I know this is getting long, and I could keep going. I can't wait to see what the coming months hold for you. We love you so very much!

Love,
Mama

Whirlwind week

I think the reality of the last week is finally starting to sink in. I still have a few precious hours of sleep left before my little dude awakens, but my mind is racing, so here I sit, at the computer before 5 a.m. What a week! What a week it's been.

Looking back, Gibster hadn't felt 100% for almost two weeks, but with previous gallbladder issues, or what we thought were gallbladder issues, that wasn't necessarily a new thing. It was new, however, for the pain to increase to such a level that he couldn't leave the couch for two days, and so a CT scan was ordered for him. The result of that scan would send us to the ER just a few hours later for an appendectomy.

My Gibster? That man is a trooper. So brave, so tough, and so much patience for his wife. You know, the member of our spousal unit who didn't have surgery last week. That wife. You see, when you take a woman pregnant in her third trimester, whose parents happen to leave for vacation the very day of the surgery (as of course they could have no clue this would happen), who's thrown into a logistical battle of mother-of-toddler and wife-of-surgery-patient, it turns out that she isn't as patient or as graceful as she hoped she might be.

Ok, Lord, I thought. My husband is in immense pain, with tubes coming out every which way, who can't sleep, whose body is wracked with chills and then sweats, and yet I'm the one crying. What on earth.

My heart was broken for him, and I wanted to spend every hour of the day with him, but the reality was, I couldn't. There were a few days last week when I got to see my husband for a grand total of an hour because, as you might imagine, a 21-month old little fireball of energy and a hospital room full of tempting knobs and tubes are not compatible for more than 15 minutes. What am I supposed to do, I asked God. How in the world does this work? And in His mercy and love, it was as if He sent a bright beam of light down from heaven to highlight our community, and He sent them into action.

A friend sat with me into the wee hours of the morning as I waited for GP to come out of surgery. Friends didn't hesitate to host my toddler for a slumber party along with their kids, or for play dates at the last minute. Countless texts, phone calls and e-mails were sent to check in on us. Friends sent the most beautiful and delicious box of strawberries. My family sent sweet balloons which, while certainly enjoyed by their intended recipient, have also provided hours of entertainment for his son. Gib's family drove down to take turns sleeping in his hospital room and helping out with his recovery. Friends leaving town offered us their amazing house for the weekend, so that we could spread out a little bit and so Gib didn't have to tackle stairs upon his release from the hospital.

And then there's Ben, who actually took two days off from work to go and sit with Gib in the hospital. When I thanked him, words not even coming close to expressing my gratitude, he simply said, "it's what you do."

God's kindness never ceases to amaze me, but in situations like this, He gives me a fresh reminder of who He is. He is Peace, He is Joy, He is Healer God, He is Provider.

The surgeon expressed that, in his opinion, issues with Gib's appendix had been occurring for some time now. With all of our travel lately, even overseas, and with a baby expected in the next two months, God's timing on this was once again so gracious. He knew that my parents, who would normally be the first to swoop in and take Levi to their house, simplifying so many logistics for me while giving their grandson a peaceful and enjoyable environment, would be gone. He knew what a mess I would be.

And, He knew what an amazing community we have and that they would take care of business. He also knew what an amazing husband I have, and that Gib would, even through this physical ordeal, remain the rock of our family.

One of my dear friends, who possesses more wisdom and encouragement than she'll ever know, prayed over me as we waited for Gib to come out of surgery. She prayed the Peace of Jesus, and also reminded me that peace is in fact a Person. Sweet Jesus. I knew at the time that she was right, but I didn't yet realize the impact of choosing to see Him as such. Whether or not I looked to Him as the Prince of Peace didn't change the reality of who He is. But choosing to look for the peace and kindness of God in every situation, every day, changes things. I can't say I learned that lesson in a particularly graceful or immediate manner this week, but God is a pursuer and a lover of my soul. And that lesson has finally begun to sink in.

This is a long post, I realize, but I just want to say thank you. Thank you, friends and family. Thank you, Gib and Levi and little one. Thank you, God.

Imagine.

Imagine.

Imagine the seediness. The dark corners of the bars, illuminated only by the contrasting harsh, fluorescent lighting in blue, pink, red. The heavy beat of the dance music, thumping in the rhythm of a heartbeat yet without any heart behind it at all.

Imagine the leering eyes of passers-by, sizing up each place, and specifically each woman within that place. Men with wedding rings and men without wedding rings but with tan lines that indicate their presence only moments before devour the scantily clad bodies before them with their eyes in a matter of seconds. Old white men, young white men, middle-age Asian men, and even couples of all ages, scouring each establishment to see which meets their criteria. Pretty enough? Young enough? Easy enough? Cheap enough?

Consider the stares, the judgment of those who've come to see this spectacle without any intent to purchase, whose curiosity fuels the lust behind those looks. The clean-cut teenaged boy staying in a hotel just down the block, who probably told his parents he was running to the 7-11 for a coke, can't help but glance inconspicuously, longingly, as he passes by. Except it isn't inconspicuous at all. Only in his mind and in his conscience.

But this isn't just a place of voyeurism. Imagine the feeling in the pit of the stomach when that old, overweight man with the grabby hands actually comes into the establishment. Or maybe it's the handsome younger man with a steely look that conveys his true heartlessness and the determination to get what he wants on demand. Imagine the internal struggle, the agony on the inside masked by the bright, seductive smile on the outside. The smile is automatic now, no longer having to be prompted by the boss to be more friendly, more seductive, more enticing. That lesson was learned the hard way.

Imagine the thoughts that run through the mind throughout the duration of the drinks, or maybe dinner, through the cheap small talk. What comes next is inevitable, and yet the client has to be placated by feigned interest in his life. The dread only grows stronger as the minutes count down, as the last bites are taken. Yet through the dread, the flirtation and the come-hither eyes are second nature now. The deal must be sealed, after all.

Imagine that you were lured to this city, the promise of a job in retail or a restaurant providing enough motivation to leave your village, your refugee camp, your impoverished life. Parental expectations of financial support for survival, and the weight of responsibility for multiple younger siblings, perhaps made these empty promises seem like the only way to make the family proud. But, shortly after arrival, the realization comes that no such job exists. Physical brokenness awaits at the hands of a cruel new boss, and a new reality begins. Someone's property now, with a transportation debt so high and threats against family back home so convincing that escape seems impossible. Maybe it actually is impossible.

Or, maybe it was a willing choice to be here. In the beginning, at least. Maybe entering this lifestyle happened purposefully, with a steady income to be had and the illusion of finding a wealthy man to marry enough of a mirage to look past the stench of the back room that would become a permanent fixture in life. That man of dreams? Sure, many men have come and gone for the past 15 years, but no marriage proposals. Only business transactions, sometimes resulting in a child that would, out of necessity, go to live with its grandparents. The logistics of life in the red light district aren't exactly conducive to child-rearing.

In the end, the circumstances by which this lifestyle was entered are less important than the now. Now is the reality that one's economical value is determined by client after client, night after night, month after month, year after year. That one's self-worth deteriorates each time her body is exploited, taken advantage of. It's a consumer-driven business and her needs, her protection, her dignity, her dreams… well, they don't exactly count. For the price of a fast-food dinner in the States, she is forced to surrender again, and again, and again, and again. No holidays, no sick days, and certainly no vacation or benefits package.

And while the physical aspects of the job are by no means pleasant, just as ugly are the knowing looks from shopkeepers, tourists, religious organizations. Those looks speak volumes. The clients don't make one feel beautiful or loved or valued in any way, but the pariah status speaks directly to the heart. No value in your life. No purpose, no worth, no hope, no future. Unredeemable trash.

Just imagine.

Friends, this bleak reality is exactly that - a reality for millions of women and children around the world. In Thailand, where prostitution is illegal, the country is estimated to have 2.8 million prostitutes, with 800,000 of those being children. Red light districts appear in every major city, and victims there are forced into slavery… or they entered willingly but are now trapped. These women have captured my heart because they have captured the heart of Jesus. They don't know Him, not yet, but He knows them. He's known them from the beginning of time. He loves them. He weeps with them. He has plans for them, purpose and a future for them. There IS hope for their lives.

Even here, in Oklahoma, prostitution exists and yes, even the trafficking of women and children. How can we attune ourselves to the heartbeat of God for these women? Instead of making snap judgements or jumping to conclusions, we can choose to see them as He does… as beautiful, valuable, fragile. Just as He invited us into community with Him, we can reach out and do the same for these women. And in doing so, we can change the world.

Rocking with my kiddos

It's late at night, so late that it's actually the beginning of a new day, when I hear the cries coming from next door. Nothing interrupts my toddler's sleep cycle like hardcore teething. I wait a few minutes to see if he's really awake or just momentarily disturbed, when I realize that the cries are only escalating.

As I roll out of bed, I'm not the least bit irritated, strangely. There aren't many things that could wake me up in the middle of the night with such a peaceful feeling, but this kiddo is one of them. I open the door to see a disoriented little boy, standing in his crib, his arms up.

"Mamaaaaa," he cries. As soon as I pick him up, he points to the rocker in the corner. "Chair," he says. He may have been abruptly awakened from his sleep, but this kid knows what he wants.

I sit down, and we begin to rock. He puts his head on my shoulder, and I can feel the drool already starting to seep through my shirt. If I wasn't certain that teething was the sleep culprit before, I am now.

"Ay yah," he says, indicating he wants me to sing to him. Ay yah is the chorus of his favorite song, and he associates it with singing in general. Sometimes I have to go through the first lines of a few songs before finding one he likes. I know I've arrived there when he stops making the "UH" sound a few bars in.

As I rock and sing, with his little body lying against mine in complete relaxation, I feel my other little baby start to wake up and kick and punch. There we are, the three of us, rocking in the dark.

I'm thankful for countless things in my life, but this moment ushers in a feeling of thankfulness like no other. I realize that in just a few months, I won't be able to rock both of my kids together in such a peaceful environment. Kids. The fact that I am a mom to one precious, fiery little boy is a gift I'm in awe of each and every day, but kids, plural? I never knew that reality could bring so much joy.

It may be 3 a.m., but I couldn't be more thankful to be awake.

Thailand photos

As you might imagine, with all of our photos combined, the number is well into the thousands. Here are a few that encompass many aspects of our trip:

We're HERE!

  

Agape House, an AIDS orphanage:

Gib spent time with this little boy last year, and it was fun for him to see how much this little guy had grown!

We spent two days each way driving through one of the most curvy mountain roads in the world on our way to/from the refugee camp. The first photo is as we are getting ready to leave. The second is a bathroom stop a few hours down the road. Distraction was key to forgetting about the fact that we had several hours ahead of us!

While the drive wasn't exactly enjoyable physically, it afforded us the opportunity to see some of the most beautiful parts of the country:

Halfway through the marathon drive, we surprised the team with elephant rides! 

Refugee camp on the Burmese border:

A child's artistic creation depicting heaven.

Praying over these beautiful children

I spent time with her last year, and it brought so much joy to my heart to see her again!

Praying over a teacher in the area who hadn't been hugged in more than a year. It's not a cultural norm to hug, and our ladies were able to love on her.

Hannah House:

Meal with members of the local church:

On our way to Doi Suthep, a large temple overlooking the city:

One evening, we gave the team a few hours of free time to explore the market. When we walked by them unexpectedly, this is what we found: the group praying for a vendor. 

On our last day in-country, we spent time at this waterfall to reflect on everything we'd experienced:

  

The funny side of travel

We had countless moments of intense laughter over the course of our trip. Some of the situations were just plain funny, while others had lessons to be learned hidden within. We're so thankful to have been with a group of people who weren't afraid to laugh… at themselves, at us, and at the inevitably funny things that happen on overseas trips:

- In the chaos of getting multiple people and multiple bags on a plane, amidst a sea of military personnel traveling somewhere en masse, our bag didn't make it to the counter. That's right - as leaders of a team, our suitcase, full of clothes and toiletries and chargers and shoes, did not travel to Thailand. Instead, it sat in the middle of the airport until some gracious friends of ours drove back to retrieve it. We realized it as soon as we got to Los Angeles. Fortunately, we'd packed some underwear in our carry-ons and had just enough time to make a mad dash to a nearby LA Target to grab some shirts and pants/skirts/shorts that we hoped would fit. Lesson learned: we didn't need as much stuff on this trip as we thought we did! It would have been nice to have had our contacts with us, and not appear in the same shirts in about every photo, but it was actually pretty liberating to travel so simply.

- Another team member forgot a suitcase, as well, but realized it in time for it to arrive prior to take-off. Wow, these early morning flights have a way of wreaking havoc!

- One team member, seated in the Buddhist temple we visited, was having meaningful time with the Lord, praying and worshiping… when the man in front of her broke wind right in her face!

- Two team members fell into rivers (one was bucked off of an elephant)!

- One team member initially thought that a man in the Red Light area was coming to our table to solicit her services, misheard his innocent question about her t-shirt, and emphatically began saying, "NO, NO, NO" to him!

- One team member, after riding for several hours on curvy mountain roads, informed the driver that we needed to pull over. I got the cue and jumped out of her way instantly (I also had the benefit of sitting right next to the door) - the other team members didn't move so quickly and thus were the recipients of her… shall we say… gift of lunch. While certainly not initially pleasant, the group of us, standing on the side of a mountain highway, cleaning off/throwing away clothes, recovering from the shock of the situation, was pretty laughable. And laugh we did!

- One team leader (hint: not me!), when introducing our team to a crowd of about 100 people, went down the line, introducing our team, until he arrived at one team member and proceeded to blank on her name. Ha!

I'm thankful for these moments - I dare say they'll stay captured in our memories just as long as the more poignant stories will.