Epilogue

I am back in the States now. Have been for just a little over a week, wondering if my few months in Bangkok have left any impression more permanent than the fading flip-flop tan lines on the tops of my feet. The hope is always to have been changed, to have grown in that capacity of living we call theology. God knowing. Not merely to be a self-subsisting top spinning on its own axis of knowing and conceiving, but to be taken more and more up into that union where we are Christians before we are personalities. It is the progress of subtraction; the desperate wanting to be a less-ness in the largeness of Christ. What follows are the few conclusions I have retained with any clarity, both as relating to this messy pursuit of Christ and a few more practical thoughts.

Gospel to the Poor

Our brief mission in Bangkok was intended to be framed by an identification with poverty in the context of the gospel. Chris Heuertz, more or less co-founder of Word Made Flesh (WMF), says that we have for too long over-spiritualized "the poor" in Scripture. There is a knee jerk reaction to that statement, and I had it. That reaction would be, if you do not read "the poor" spiritually, we must scrap the gospel as we know it and a good deal of us would be damned. I do not think this is what he's after. What I think Heuertz means is that, particularly in America, we use the reality of spiritual poverty to defend our apathy toward the poor in our own midst. It's a little like casting out demons in the name of Satan and the Church cannot stand in that contradiction. Here even I defer to the Papists, who say, "It is a fatal error to separate these two--[daily bread and evangelization]--and even worse to oppose the one to the other." The truth is more encompassing: the gospel in which we believe wraps itself in poverty.

I have a very un-academic approach to examining this gospel to the poor. In my limited view of history, and of Scripture, I see two paths. One is toward unilateral liberation theology which has all the gloss of perfect Christian charity, but which I feel is an angel of light preaching a different gospel. The good news is not that the hungry are fed and the prisoners freed. I believe now that these outpourings of God's grace are indeed a dimension of the gospel, but they do not fully describe the fruition of redemption and peace with God.

The second path I see is the gospel of hope in eternity. This path often reminds me of the spiritual songs of American slaves. In their poverty and oppression, what I think many American slaves understood was the greater scope, the eternal grace, their ultimate home. It is not that we do not see people healed and the oppressed delivered in this life. We see this in manifold ways and means. We are not left with nothing to do but live in an evil world until we die and go to heaven. Scripture refutes this directly. It is merely a clarification of scope. Redemption and peace with God concerns a scope of nothing less than the fullness of eternity. Time stands within that fullness and, as such, we will see people healed and delivered through the ministry of the church, which has in its sights the eternal, unshakable kingdom.

What we can hope to learn of God's gospel of redemption is still to be found among those same poor, who we always have among us. Christ came in poverty, died in poverty. He willed Himself to be revealed in shame and humiliation. There is no reason to leave this gospel of the Cross and turn toward the "weak and beggarly" elements of our fictitious human wealth. There is no Christ there.

The question I often posed to myself during the last four months, and still do today, is "Did you commune with the poor; did you meet Christ there?" And I cannot answer myself satisfactorily. I simply do not know. I sat with the poor, but perhaps too distantly. I spoke to them, but often while clinging to selfish discontent. "Communion," then, seems a stretch. But where we are weak, there is God strong. And I have to believe that sharing twice-a-week awkward silences with those meek souls on Sukhumvit Rd. were a grace to me, a grace to them. I have to believe that the weakness of those moments will preach strength to my soul for the ages to come, according to God's will.

Meeting People is Easy

WMF's vision is primarily relational and a lot of our ministry consisted of the simplicity of presence and the simple beauty of trust that came from communication over time. As I struggled through my limited Thai with those I now know on the streets of Bangkok, I wondered that I had not tried to know the poor that have been around me my whole life. I can attest that our efforts bore, if nothing else, the fruit of trust. Though the vast majority of our spoken words were lost in translation, over time many folks who formerly received us with cautious eyes greeted us with eager smiles. It is not that a shared first language necessarily makes knowing and loving easier, but knowing I can meet folks on a dark thoroughfare in Bangkok armed with nothing more than a month's worth of Thai makes me suspect that the only thing between me and the poor in America is my faithlessness. It makes me a little bolder.

Visit Old People

I picked this up from our visit to the facilities operated by the Missionaries of Charity in Kolkata, India. The two houses we worked in were mostly for the elderly. Their loneliness and alienation from what was going on outside their walled-off home was striking. Bethany and I talked about the universality of this situation and each vowed to visit the elderly wherever we lived.

Slavery is Real, Albeit Grey

I suppose one could dismiss the truth of modern slavery outright, but I've yet to meet someone who doesn't accept the idea. The problem is actually when one confronts this ugly reality with an elementary textbook idea of slavery.

There are people, especially women, who today match our romantic idea of a slave: brought to a foreign country against their will and held in captivity to do things against their will. Others know the nature of the work they will do and, under the duress of poverty, make the choice to sell themselves for money only to be held in a deceitful system of debt repayment that they cannot possibly escape, enduring threats of violence to their family and themselves should they renege on their "deal." The common element is that both of these people are treated as property and none of them can leave when they want. That satisfies my definition of a slave. What we as Christians need to be careful of is not to be scrupulous about the circumstances of one's slavery and to confront this evil with the gospel and with the same fervor as our abolitionist forebears.

Conversion is the Miracle

There is little I can think to say about this except to reaffirm orthodoxy. In Thailand, I was witness to the conversion of two souls. In a world fascinated with the exaggerated and lusting after the ecstatic, I was amazed that this most supreme miracle, of God's enemies becoming children, comes so quietly. And I tried not to miss it.

The Needs

Many people want to know what they can do. Having done so little in Bangkok, basing so much of our work around deliberately avoiding the practice of "doing" at the expense of "being," it is hard to come up with a very convincing "to do" list, but I do have a couple things to recommend.

Pray. This is not preached enough. We, as Christians, on the whole, do not believe in the power of prayer. I do not think our negligience of it is any sort of harmless laziness, but a real and terrifying faithlessness. I often justify this frailty in myself by using reason. And it is true that prayer is most unreasonable, which is why it ought to be practiced all the more with energetic faith. Our team talked a lot about how all great revivals were preceded by committed prayer. Do not neglect this grace. Pray for the coming of God's kingdom and simply trust.

$100. It costs roughly $100 to send a kid to school in Bangkok for one year. Many of the begging families we know are Cambodian and, thankfully, their children are legally entitled to attend public school in spite of their family's illegal status. There is even a small organization in Bangkok, with whom WMF has recently partnered, that tries to steer disadvantaged children towards enrolling in school. This costs $100. If you have $100 or know someone who does, you could ensure a child goes to school for that year. It's rare that you can be promised this level of causality, but I can assure you it's that direct. Contact me if this interests you.

People need to know about the degree to which the sex industry dominates tourism to Bangkok, Pattaya, Phuket, and even Chiang Mai, not to mention other destinations in Thailand. The response to this is up to you, but being informed and informing are the first step to seeing an end to the selling of human life in Thailand. If you know someone who's going on a business trip or vacation to Thailand, let them be warned. As I've been telling friends: just have your business retreat at Dave & Busters.

Thanks

There is more to be said about more than I have mentioned. A good face-to-face can probably sort out any questions you have. For any of you that have been supporting me through prayer, as well as anybody who contributed financially, I want to thank you. Your support has produced fruit. Prior to our team arriving in Bangkok, many of the dimensions of WMF's ministry were as yet unrealized. As a team, along with the Hupes, we helped shape the work for teams who will go in the future. You have, through your support, brought the gospel to the poor. Thanks be to God for you and for your help.

Soli Deo Gloria,

Richie

Week 16 - Fin

Fin, because I have four days left which will consist of a debriefing tomorrow morning during devotions and a community dinner on Tuesday night. On Thursday, our time with Word Made Flesh is officially complete. I plan to take another week and a half to explore Laos and North Thailand before returning home to Dallas.

This last week, we had our final night of outreach on Monday. Meant to be an all-night affair, we actually arrived around 10:30 and left around 3:00 am. Our Thai partner accompanied Emily and me on this night, thus adding a new dimension to our conversation with B__. B__ wept over her situation, retelling the story of how her husband abandoned her and her three children to live in the park and beg on the street. This I knew. B__ also told us she had been a Christian for twenty years. This I did not know. It changed things for me, her changing before my sight from neighbor to sister. The veracity of her profession aside, I was very troubled to see my sister in such a vulnerable situation. We are all, especially Tim and Amy, trying to meet her needs, but in the meantime, she still has no safe place to sleep and men still offer to purchase her children for God knows what purpose.

When we finally caught up with our friends at Nana, we were walking into a celebration. These children, these teenagers we know who spend the night begging are in vulnerable situations, but they are still teenage girls who delight in talking and laughing with friends. So with a lot of talking and laughing, hugs and tears, our group said goodbye to them. We take heart in knowing that Tim and Amy will continue to be that strong Christian presence and loving relationship in their lives and some of us take greater heart in the possibility that we will return, but for now we have only the complex vacancy one feels in their guts when parting for an indefinite time. I will miss them all.

Because of all that, it was with heavy hearts that we took our servant team retreat to the island of Samed in the Thailand gulf. It felt odd to move from our place in the street to a warm place in the sand, almost improper, but we did not spend three days in pensive thought. We had a good time reading on the beach and snorkeling. I was able to fit in a run since I'm hoping to do a roadrace early tomorrow morning here in Bangkok.

I do plan a more comprehensive wrap-up in the next couple of weeks, something more appropriate to cap off four months, but I do not have the luxury of time at the moment. Tonight, we will go, with no other purpose in mind than visiting, the third red light district in Bangkok after Nana and Soi Cowboy: Phat Phong. Be in prayer as we encounter more of the evil, but always be confident that God is conquering it through the people of Christ, who in all things is preeminent.

Week 15 - Phayao

Happy Advent.

Last week started as usual, with outreach on Monday night. We missed several of our friends and I wondered if it didn't have something to do with the recent police "cleanups" of the area.

We did see one child sleeping on the bridge with a puppy, a cup, and no one else around. Emily and I sat on the sidewalk nearby watching the girl for a while. As we did, we were approached by an Irish man who said he'd seen us around. We get these occasionally: tourists or Western ex-pats who want to stop and say they appreciate what we're doing. I never know what to do with the compliment, so I usually smile and nod. But this guy had a different angle.

He wanted to know if we could help him with something, but we had to pledge confidentiality. I have fewer scruples than Emily, so I eagerly accepted his terms, knowing that I would keep confidential only whatever I felt like keeping confidential. Emily was a little more forthright about our willingness to report the reportable. It didn't seem to matter to the guy, as he went on.

He has a Thai girlfriend that he met at the mall, not on the street, he was eager to clarify. She had a history of prostitution, which she had left when she met him, but now she's pregnant. He suspects she's returned to her old life and wonders if we would be able to identify her as someone we see on Sukhumvit if we were introduced. Basically, he wanted to use us, a Christian NGO, as his personal private detective. I explained that that's not really what we do, but that we could refer him to someone who could help his very vulnerable girlfriend. He shook his head vigorously. "These people," he lectured, "are very smart." By which he meant, "I'm the victim of a conspiratorial scam." Not only did he believe that he'd been duped into a relationship--a likely possibility and not a unique story--but he believed she intended to hire someone to kill him. After we reiterated that we could not help him, he said goodnight and went on his merry, paranoid way.

Nearly the entire rest of the week was spent in Phayao with Phillip and Constance, some American friends of Tim and Amy's. We took an overnight bus there to celebrate Thanksgiving with them, Thai style: fish, curry, thom yum, though Bethany did manage to make a bowl of mashed potatoes. Phillip and Constance work for the Education for Life Foundation and had gotten a large donation of bikes. They loaned us a few and we got to bike around Phayao, which borders a lake. Getting away from the city was absolutely therapeutic.

Now I'm feeling a bit dissipated--thank you, Rachel. After an impromptu vacation in Phayao, we're looking forward to our planned servant team retreat this week on the beach in Kosamet. Before then, we do have outreach tonight. This will be our final outreach and it's going to be an all-nighter. We had planned this for a couple months earlier, but never executed the idea. It should be very illuminating, seeing when our friends are able to go home and seeing how many of them may have control factors, people who are managing their begging.

Prayer requests:

--That I'd stay awake tonight.

Week 14 - Last "Normal" One

As I walked near the King's palace and throne hall yesterday, I could see workers putting up lights around what equates to several city blocks' worth of fencing to prepare for the King's 82nd birthday on Dec 5th. It's not Christmas, but it does give the sense of a new season, which is appropriate given that the temperature sank drastically over the last half a week. I nearly didn't use my fan at all last night until I heard the high-pitched flapping of a mosquito above my ear.

Yesterday, we had our last day out at Klong Toei. I thought we would be teaching, but activities were limited to a two hour party. There was a lot of dancing and, strangely, a lot of throwing baby powder in our own faces and at each other. Not all of the kids were there, but most of the familiar faces. I think sometimes one underestimates the depth of connection made with another person, particularly with adolescents who hide it better.

On Thursday, and to a lesser extent on Tuesday, we celebrated Emily's birthday, the third and last birthday of our group of five during these four months. The only thing lacking was the Thom Yum soup our neighbor, Bah Oot, prepared for our last two parties.

Monday and Wednesday outreach per usual. We are coming up against the reality that we will be leaving and that we'll have to tell this to some of the people we see twice a week on the street. I began this ordeal with B__ and it was more difficult than I thought. Difficult, because it seems to me she saw more of God in me than I saw in her, appreciative as she was of the meager relationship I'd formed with her. She said all of our group had Jay Dii, literally "good hearts." Great are God's works and unprofitable are His servants.

On Tuesday, Jeff and I joined with the MST project, which seeks to engage in conversation Western men visiting the popular sex tourist areas in Thailand. It wasn't nearly as confrontational as I imagined, but that made it all the more frustrating. The Devil often comes masquerading as foggy logic and cyclical debates. I can only pray God did something through all this, will continue to do this in my life and their lives.

This coming week, we will visit American friends for Thanksgiving in Phayao, with some opportunities for working with them and for hiking.

Prayer Requests:

--That the relationships that the five of us have formed with transfer as seemlessly as possibly to Tim and Amy and that these relationships would bear fruit for the Kindgom of God.

Week 13

A fair amount of my time here in Bangkok has been spent reading. As a whole, the five of us were required to bring along six books to read and discuss while here. I've spent a lot of the last week reading the remaining two: Sexually Exploited Children and Sex Slaves. As I found out four months ago in Dallas, these are awkward titles to have on your office desk if you aren't a social worker or something close.

Sex Slaves, at one point, refers to Bangkok as "the world's brothel." When people ask me what I think of Bangkok, I usually say something about the food, mostly because "the world's brothel" is often what first comes to mind. I recognize that this thought is unfair to Thai people in general and citizens of Bangkok in particular, but for half a week every week, it's what I see of the city.

Women are trafficked here from all over the continent, but Sex Slaves asserts that the majority are from Burma and North Thailand. These women arrive under varying levels of coercion, from outright, drugged kidnapping to a conscious choice, albeit made under the duress of poverty and a familial culture that emphasizes concrete, financial indebtedness to one's parents. These are the girls lining the street that I walk down three times a week at night.

In the daytime, Bangkok offers me the chance to tour scores of intricately constructed wats--temples--all dedicated to a seemingly innocuous, peaceful dogma that fatalistically assigns a prostitute her lot in life with no hope to save.

What do I think of Bangkok? The food is excellent.

As usual this week, we had outreach on Monday and Wednesday. This week we prepared food packets beforehand--two chicken sticks, an orange, and bread. Nearly all the faces this past week were familiar, so our awkward Thai conversations were longer and more awkward, with lots of pauses, but with much grace. When someone we know allows us to sit with them, they are always happy to forgive our linguistic shortcomings.

The police were out in force both nights, apparently running off child beggars after "confiscting" their earnings and taking their shoe-shining kits. This meant that many of our friends were gone or hiding by the time we made it to Nana.

This week, Jeff and I participated in our first, and unfortunately second-to-last, week of partner ship with the MST--Men and the Sex Trade--project. The project seeks to humanize the men who visit Nana plaza and Soi Cowboy as broken sinners in need of grace as opposed to much more one-dimensional labels like "pervert."

Next week, we will actually approach men for discussion. This last week, we joined MST on a very eye-opening prayer walk through Nana plaza. I had seen the entrance to the plaza every week during outreach, but was unaware of the structure within. I found it disturbingly procedural. I needn't go into details here--you can always ask me--but the place is every bit as orderly as I imagine any Old Testament cult's fertility temples would be. The men there are not just out-of-control tourists on a bender, they are pious adherents of a religion.

At home, I've taken up yoga with Bethany leading the way. It was my idea, which should stricke anyone who knows me as odd. Thankfully, Bethany never lets me escape my committment. I'm getting sore in places I didn't know existed.

As I post this, there's only one week of English teaching left at Klong Thoei. I think I'll miss those kids, even the really loud ones.

Week 12 - The One About the Massage

Fact: the average meal here is around 90 cents, the sort of meal you would easily pay $9.00 for at Royal Thai on Greenville.

Outreach twice again this week. We spent a little time visiting with people we already knew, handing out Thai workbooks and pencils to the little ones. I am lost in these relationships, those which can seemingly go no further than "How are you." If they happen to say they are not well, and I ask why, I will not understand what they say after that. At times like these, I have to believe the eternal Logos is also preached in mystery, apart from the spoken gospel, that Christ in me is enough and that the Spirit will shout grace and mercy in a way that surpasses me.

An aside on the subject of mystery: does anyone think there's a link between Eastern Orthodox and the Southern USA pentecostal tradition? I've been obsessed with this question lately.

We discussed Nouwen's Compassion on Thursday. Nouwen writes in riddles, but there were a couple of edifying concepts in the essay. Mainly, that of presence. Nouwen aims in the beginning to dismiss the idea of compassion as a condescending pity, a common misconception. Compassion, for Nouwen, and I think accurately, is sharing the suffering of your neighbor. The practical manifestation of this becomes a question with in impossible number of answers, but Nouwen happens to mention sharing awkwardness as one of them. Sitting with a beggar who is likely Cambodian and knows little Thai, when you yourself already know little Thai, is assuredly one of the most awkward things I have done. Nouwen's exhortation is not to run from that awkwardness, not to exist in frantic impatience that desires only to run away from the moment, but to share the awkwardness with them in your brief relationship. It sounds goofy, but it rings more true than the noble fantasies of "compassion" in my head.

On Tuesday, our Thai friend Boo came over and cooked for us. Boo keeps outdoing herself in the cooking department. This time it was a yellow curry over noodles and sauteed garlic. I aim to try and recreate her achievements when I return home, but I doubt they will come close.

This week, I began my WMF project. My goal is to locate squatter communities around Bangkok. This mostly entails walking a lot. On Monday, it entailed some dude stalking me for a few blocks with a big stick. I wouldn't have minded so much if he'd actually swung the big stick or done anything for that matter, but whenever I turned on him, he just gave me a blank stare. He was either an imbecile or very high. Regardless, he left me a few blocks later.

The squatter communities are a mixture of depressingly inadequate and surprisingly tranquil. Grigg in his book Companion to the Poor distinguishes between several types of squatter communities. They are not all places of despair, although there are those. Some are highly organized, insular communities that care for their citizens. All of them exist on unclaimed property, often near a railroad track or canal. Some of them have been around for decades. I encounterd suspicious individuals, as mentioned above, but I also encountered the characteristic Thai generosity. As I walked through one community, an older gentleman came out to stop me from continuing, saying, in English, "Um, that one, he bite," as he pointed to a dog directly in front of me.

I got my payoff massage for winning the "new experience/extrem food" contest of a couple months ago. It was a real swank place. They washed our feet to begin--Tim and Jeff came along--and gave me some very loose-fitting pajamas to change into. I think she gave me the foreigner, "I'm trying not to hurt you" version of the classic Thai massage. She could have twisted me a lot further than she did, but it was nice. There was pan flute music. And then they gave us tea.

Prayer Requests:

--That I would work on my project when I have free time. Time is getting short.

Week 11 - Staying Present

It must be close to winter, because Lotus--a local megastore--has dragged out their tocques and scarves. Soon Thais will be bundling up for chilly days topping out at 85 deg. Farenheit. I will still be sweating, but even I've noticed the difference. For the past couple of weeks, I have been sliding under the sheets somewhere mid-sleep. The mornings have been dry and cool, or what passes for cool in central Thailand.

As promised, the regular schedule resumed this week, which included our Monday and Wednesday night outreaches. Additionally, we had the opportunity to visit one family we've gotten to know at their home. I think this really shows where the Mission of WMF takes traction; seeing someone who happens to beg in the context of their living space humanizes them.

I wish I could write in full about something that happened this week, but it would be unwise and maybe unsafe to publish even a slight detail. Suffice it to say that to witness the Holy Spirit calling one to belief over time is a special kind of blessing, the radical nature of which one can miss if you aren't paying careful attention.

I am trying to do my work here without distraction. In Nouwen's Compassion, he exhorts the reader to exercise a holy patience that allows them to remain in the present, particularly as it relates to our relationships. A trite, but relevant example is that of listening to someone as opposed to waiting for your turn to speak. At the same time, I have a brain, and I would have to shut it down entirely to avoid knowing that I have a mere six weeks left. I also have practical matters that need to be planned in that time. Still, there is a great need for me to remain present, to be with people--my living community, those we meet on the street, the children we teach on Saturday--in the present tense. To do otherwise, is to dehumanize them to some degree.

Prayer Requests:

--As already stated, that I would be present. As with all inward movements toward God and neighbor, I cannot do this of my own volition, but only the Spirit can move me. Pray for this grace.

Week 10 - Set

This is your first Thai lesson. In the American colloquial sense of "all set," "set" means the same thing in both English and Thai: finished. English camp is now set as we finished up the second week this past Thursday, Friday being the celebration of King Chulalongkhorn's (Rama V) death.

I do not think of myself as a kid person. Most people believe this speaks poorly of one's character. The same is often thought of those who con't consider themselves "dog people." I have historically been neither, which is why I was surprised to find myself teaching English conversation in a loud, expressive voice and even enjoying it. I particularly enjoyed the youngest group--5 to 6 yrs.--who normally sat in rapt attention--out of fear or interest I could never tell--for the bearded, tattooed hobbit yelling "one building, six buildings," over and over with wide eyes. I do not know if any of my three classes learned anything from me, but I got to know some very cool Thai kids and hopefully they got to know me a little bit.

On Tuesday, Pastor Anon wanted us to present topics on American culture at the English camp. I all but demanded to be in charge of music. I was fastidious. Believing American music comes primarily from two fountainheads: Appalachia and the Mississippi Delta. To be short, these are the artists I included: Robert Johnson, Son House, Carl Perkins, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Buddy Holly, Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Jack White (Cold Mountain Sdtrk), Hank Williams, and Dolly Parton. I also threw in Jenny Lewis, Sufjan Stevens, and Jay Z as examples of modern American music. Tragically, I believe Thai children may be less passionate about American music than I am as their attention often waned.

We did not all go on outreach this week. On Monday, Tim and Amy took a group of Christian leaders from this region of Asia on the same walk we do on outreach nights. On Wednesday, outreach was voluntary. Consequently, I did not go on outreach this last week. This next week will be a welcome return to normalcy, after two weeks of English camp split by a week in India. We will resume our morning devotions, study of Thai, and Monday and Wednesday outreach. Additionally, Jeff and I will join the work of the MST project for the first time this week as we minister to visiting foreign men in the bar district every Tuesday.


Prayer Requests:

--That the Lord would open my eyes. I can hardly believe I've been here ten weeks already. I often worry that I am missing something vital that I will regret ignoring after I've left. Much of the past several weeks has been full of reasoning and lacking faith. I want less of me and more cross.

--I will begin working on my WMF project, locating squatter communities around Bangkok. Pray the Lord blesses this work so that I will be dilligent in it and so that it will bear fruit.

Week 9 - Kolkata

Or Calcutta. You can wikipedia this later; they're the same place.

I was in Kolkata all week. The pragmatic side of the trip was that we had to leave Thailand and renew our visas for another sixty days. But the main reason we went to India--as opposed to a more obvious choice like Cambodia or Laos--is that we were able to see what WMF was doing in Kolkata as well as meet up with the servant team from Nepal who were going to be in Kolkata at the same time.

Other than completing the red-tape marathon necessary for a visa application, the first half of the week was spent visiting some of the places WMF works in Kolkata. We visited Freeset and volunteered for some small tasks at Sari Bari. Both manufacture bags as well as blankets and t-shirts and both offer an alternative to those working in the red-light district. This is the dignity of life or what some might call God's common grace. This is thought only came to fruition later in the week, as you will see if you read on. I could say a lot about these businesses and the importance and kingdom-relevance of their work, but the founders could say it a lot better. In lieu of my regular prayer requests, I'm going to post links to both businesses. Christmas is drawing nearer and Freeset and Sari Bari have honestly great products. Please give them a look and consider them if and when you do some Christmas shopping. Also, I suggest you get your order in now, because they go quickly, particularly for Sari Bari.

While we visited Freeset and Sari Bari, we were able to walk a good portion of Kolkata. The difference from Dallas or even from Bangkok is dramatic. Sanitation is a problem: large piles of trash are everywhere. That people would live on the street seemed to be a foregone conclusion. I have seen homelessness in every city I've visited, but never to this degree. Additionally, the coming festival dedicated to the idol Kali added a menacing touch to the delapidated condition of the place. Which is not to say I didn't witness moments of extreme beauty in the architecture, in the food, even in the disposable sculptures of Kali. But there was an air of oppression I cannot quite describe.

On Friday, we were able to volunteer at two of the houses founded by Mother Theresa. These were started by Mother Theresa, as far as I can tell, because, in the tradition of their merciless religion, society was almost literally throwing away their people, leaving them to die an animal's death in Kolkata's traffic-jammed streets. Theresa, however, saw only the image of God and, indeed, Jesus in "the least of these." This is the dignity of dying. For over fifty years, sisters, workers, and volunteers of varying terms have sought to give these men and women just that dignity. Giving our fellow men and women dignity from birth to death, led and guided by the saving grace of the Holy Spirit. That, I think, or something like it, is the vocation of the every member of the church and can only be done as the church.

Other than that, I had great fun meeting the Nepal team, the Kolkata staff, trying great food--Thailand's still got it beat--and experiencing another country. I've still got a lot of undeveloped film and now I've added one more roll. Pictures forthcoming. For now, I'm back in Bangkok and preparing to finish up the English camp at Jaisamarn church this week.

For all your Christmas shopping needs:

http://www.saribari.com/

http://www.freesetglobal.com/

Week 8 - Hello, how are you?

I've repeated the above litany many times this past week, expecting an emphatic "I am fine, thank you. And you?" Monday thru Friday was the first week of English camp at Jaisemarn Church 68, an offshoot of the larger branch in downtown Bangkok. The Hupes have a relationship with the church and volunteered us for two weeks of the three week camp. For me, the week consisted of a daily cycle of waking not early enough and teaching conversational English to three age groups, usually with hilarious results. As most of you know, I have no formal training in teaching conversational English. Luckily, we all have a free period. I used mine efficiently, hiking to Ramkamhaeng rd. to have coffee and read The Possessed. During the morning period, I have an older student named Beer (sic) to whom I have nothing to teach, so I dedicate a portion of our 1 hr. 15 min. session to "stump Beer time." I've yet to succeed.

Although street outreach was optional this week, due to the rigors of lesson planning, I and a couple other people did venture out on Wednesday night. We made a point to limit ourselves to visiting beggars we had met. We visited a few people whose names I already knew. This is a simple, but huge portion of WMF's ministry here: giving names to those forgotten by the secular empire. On Saturday, one of the girls who begs with her sisters on Nana St. had a birthday, so we visited her there amidst the bars and carousing and evil and confusion and simply wished her a happy birthday.

Street outreach is a short and eloquent way to say we walk up and down Sukhumvit Rd., sometimes seeing people we know, with whom those skilled in Thai can have a decent conversation. Sometimes I'm the one talking and, in broken Thai, I ask for a name and place and little else. Sometimes we hardly see anybody. And yet I can't get away from the mystery of being a walking temple of the Holy Ghost in such a rote task. I can't see Him and I certainly can't feel Him, but a word tells me He is there in my bones. Last week, I was reminded that He blew over this planet once already and made everything and I wondered at Him having to breathe over it all over again. I cannot, for all my big words, tell you that I understand it entirely, but I hope while I'm out there that I'm some redeemed bit of the King's Body and not just a plodding loner with a big beard and pious habits.

Tomorrow morning, we go to India to renew our visa and see a little of what WMF is doing in that country. We will also volunteer a day at the home established by Mother Theresa. I can hardly believe I get this chance and that it's so soon. I can hardly believe I've been here for half my time already. Additionally, the WMF team from Nepal will be traveling there during the same time and I will get to see a long lost friend from college. Even halfway around the world, I'm bumping into Golden Eagles.

Prayer Requests:

--Pray for the team and for our community. Scripture attaches a lot of importance to our relationships with the rest of the Body of Christ. Pray the devil will find no foothold in our frustrations.

--Pray for my prayer time. I am giving into the subtle temptation to put off prayer. Refer to request #1. This is just such a foothold. Sin is great, but greater the grace.

Lord's Week - Pictures

I'm taking a week off from my long monologue style and posting some pictures. I brought camera technology of the Andre Aggasi era and consequently don't have the ability to take and post pictures immediately. Buuut, my fellow teammate Melanie does and she was kind enough to send me these pictures.

The culmination of our first contest: eating weird food. Ultimately, I accumulated the most points and won myself a traditional Thai massage, which I hear is something like professional wrestling.

Respectfully greeting Mr. McDonald Thai-style

The birthday morning feast and entertainment--MGMT--prepared by my teammates.

The Servant Team: Back-Jeff, Melanie, Emily; Front-Me, Bethany, Boo, and Jim. Boo and Jim are friends of the Hupes and have been helping teach us Thai language and cooking.

The team singing at a Thai church with Tim at the far right

Melanie, Bethany, and me putting our lives in the hands of a reckless Tuk-Tuk driver

Week 6 - Clapping My Dirty Hands

This morning at church, the pastor used a familiar illustration for being made in God's image. In the States, it just doesn't work, but here in Thailand, the illustration made a dramatic point. The pastor held up a blank sheet of printing paper, pointing out that they are sold by the 500 and are, alone, essentially worthless. He crumpled up the sheet of paper and threw it disinterestedly at the projection screen. Next, he held up a sheet of the same paper, this one with a black and white printout of a picture of the King of Thailand. My mind immediately rewound ten seconds and I imagined the pastor crumpling up the image of the King. In Thailand, in the right place, that can get you imprisoned. In that room, someone might have jumped up and punched him in the nose, at the very least. This, he said, is why murder is such a grave offence and is forbidden in the Law. If it is a severe offence in Thailand to crumple up the image of its king, how much more to destroy a person on whom is imprinted the very image of the Living God. I think the message accords with our work here. We aim to impress upon the poor that, as images of God, they have more value than even the venerated image of Thailand's King.

The week went as usual. Other than Thai study, teaching English Wednesday and Saturday, and shared devotions, the days were essentially mine to spend reading, talking, or totally wasting. Only Wednesday was spent on outreach. It rained that evening and I felt a little bit mixed up. The evening, its pace, our work, also seemed mixed up. Thay may have been projection or it may actually have been that jumbled.

A few days later, Bethany asked me if there was anyone I felt I was connecting with on our street outreach. I found the question strange given I've only been out twice and also a little frustrating, because there wasn't. I said, "Not really. Maybe L___." L___ is a boy who sells gum on Nana Street. He is always alone. Later, while eating alone in a food stall watching it rain quietly, I realized I actually meant what I said. L___ needs the same covenant love of the family of God I'd been blessed with. And I wanted it for him. And I took an awestruck joy in how love works, suddenly and simply, like afternoon rain.

After some discussion, we decided it would be best if everybody went out on both street ministry nights: Monday and Wednesday.

Prayer Requests:

--For L___, for his safety and that he might be in the same comfort, safety, and love that we crave for all the children in our famly.

--For the strength of our community here. There's a lot to derive from living in Christian community and, consequently, a lot to be neglected. Pray we wouldn't neglect this grace and that, by receiving it, others may come to know our Lord Christ.

--Thank God for leading me to the church I attend on the Lord's Day. It has proven to be the very means of grace he promises.

Week 5 - Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus

Early last week, Jeff led devotions in the morning and asked us to read from James, chapters 3 and 4. In the midst of what Luther called the "Epistle of Straw," I found firm, gospel ground. I decided to take 3:56 to 4:10 and make a poem. I'm interested to know what someone else might come up with, so if you like, make your own and post it as comment. This was mine:

How great the fire
set by my tongue;
the world of iniquity untamable.
bitter jealousy, selfish ambition
arrogant liar: earthly, natural, demonic.
Disorder and evil; violence for pleasure.
lusting without having
envy without obtaining
Enemy of God

But...

Greater the grace.
Submitting to God.
Resisting the Devil.
Drawing near.
Clean your hands.
Purify your hearts.
Humble yourself.
He will exalt you.

Luther, that brilliant theologian, was also sometimes a blind, uninspired oaf. We are equiped by God's mercies, by His Grace. What I like about the passage is that everything flips after "but." "But," here, is the Cross, that great hinge of history on which everything depends.

This last week, we began our ministry on the street and inside/outside the bars. The organizer of the MST project, which is aimed among visiting, foreign men, has not yet returned to Bangkok, and so the men stayed behind Tuesday night to pray for the women on our team who ministered to the women in the bars. None of the girls would give me a very full account, but I do believe they felt somewhat overwhelmed by the darkness of the place.

On Wednesday, I joined Melanie and Tim--Emily was really sick--on the street to minister to speak with those begging. I directed only one conversation myself. Though I used only the most elementary of phrases, I was surprised at how well my Thai flowed. Tim met a man later on and we all sat down to dinner. The man added so many chili flakes to his noodle soup that the broth turned blood red. I took this as a personal challenge and attempted to keep pace with him, drastically reducing my ability to taste things later.

The greater part of our walk is down a dark, lonely section of Sukhumvit Rd. The beggars are often isolated and we only rarely encounter loud American women or a Thai man enthusiastically trying to sell me a suit--they believe the quickest route to this goal is by calling me something familiar in my own tongue, like "homie." When we reached the downtown district of Nana, however, the scene changed. It glowed with pink neon and was crowded with white men. Nana is where the party is. It's where the prostitution and slavery is. And it's where Anne is.

I call her Anne because I don't think it appropriate to use her real name. Anne is one of four or five children. The Hupes first noticed her mother begging on the street a few months ago and have since established a good relationship with the family. Good enough that Tim and Amy visited them at their Bangkok home just a couple of weeks ago. The problem with last Wednesday, when I first met Anne, is that her mom was not around. This was a new situation, Anne and her sisters being on Nana alone, and not a welcome one. When we arrived, a tall, foreign man was twirling her and lifting her into the air. I now had a front row seat to the Hupe's vision for ministry. Anne is maybe ten. Her sisters about fifteen and seventeen. They are in the Nana district every night, selling goods, literally feet away from a ceaseless industry of sexual exploitation. It doesn't get more "at risk" than that. We talked to Anne and her sisters for a bit, bought her some durian, watched her for about fifteen minutes. Then we left, helpless, knowing Anne would be there until dawn.

Prayer requests:

--that the women on our team would find a new boldness and joy in the midst of a dark place. Christ is the one true light and I want the women to have a courage that comes from knowing this, a courage that evil will find truly frightening.

--that Anne and her sisters would be able to leave the streets immediately. Pray for an opportunity to speak the gospel into their lives that would lead to this. In the meantime, be in prayer any time during the day. Know that at any hour in your work day - 9 to 5 - Anne and her sisters are spending their night in Nana. Pray the deeds of evil men would be frustrated.

Week 4 - Birthdays and Bannanagrams

My birthday was this past week. I always feel a little awkward about having things done for me on my birthday. The Thais even have a word for it: "kreungjeu" is a rough transliteration. Despite that, my new friends did a lot to celebrate my birthday and I'm grateful that people I've known for less than a month would go to the lengths they did to make me feel loved. At my request, we played basketball in Klong Toey with Boo, our Thai teacher on Fridays, and her husband. Later that night, we had a potluck dinner with our neighbors. I ate deep-fried grasshoppers. Jeff fashioned a birthday hat out of a large plastic water bottle and a candle. Exotic food, basketball, and silly hats. One would have to be pretty sour not have a good time given those elements.

When we played basketball, we met another Australian couple who live there in the slums. We do not live in the slums and there is a very good reason for that--a reason that is probably best left revealed by Tim and Amy--but I am amazed at how many Christians have taken up the call to live here in Thailand among the poor. I have been keeping my eyes open for the fruit of this wide Christian presence. Conversion? Economic healing? A decrease in violence or drugs? At times like these, I'm reminded that I see through a glass darkly, that the Holy Trinity is actively working here and elsewhere. I'm reminded that his kingdom comes like a seemingly innocuous mustard seed and fluorishes in its own time. The presence of these sons and daughters of God may not bring immediate relief, but we need only look at the promises of Scripture for a description of what a sweeping victory it will one day be.

Our English teaching is hitting somewhat of a stride. This week, it seemed as if we were able to finally pinpoint the subject areas that need the most care in teaching. We played bannanagrams with the university students and they seemed to benefit from it. I was teamed with one of our regulars and had a hilarious time trying to explain the meaing of "awash." Give it a try some time.

This morning, I was not able to attend my new, "regular" church since Tim had arranged for us to speak at a small Thai church associated with Jaiseman. Really, it was just Bethany who was given the responsibility for drafting a sermon and delivering it. She had a pretty good case of nerves last night, but she did very well, preaching on Mark 2 and how we should use our faith to put our friends in front of Jesus.

As I have been mentioning, this week we will begin our street outreach. I don't have any specific expectations and I've been told this is good, but I anticipate having much more to report next week.

Week 3 - Routine

For the first time since I arrived, I experienced a week that can only be described as routine. Our team continued to have morning devotions and study Thai for three--nominally--hours a day. Teaching English at the University club and the Klong Toey center went off largely as they did the week before.

At the end of this month, we will be discussing Companion to the Poor by Viv Grigg. A missionary from New Zealand, Viv moved himself into a Manilla slum after he came to the conviction that he was not called to work among the middle class, but among the poor. To some extent, Grigg calls us all to work among the poor. Though we may not all move into the slums--Grigg himself doesn't believe that is required--he believes we are all called by the testimony of Scripture to witness to the poor in word and deed. There's a lot to unpack there and I do not have the time or mental capacity right now to do it justice. But I have been wrestling with that call. I have been wrestling with the awareness that my impulse is to first serve myself and my own needs, to elevate my own comforts to a point of luxury. It is the sort of deeply-rooted selfishness that can be up-ended with the power of Christ's resurrection.

I have, I believe, found a church to attend while here. It is called New City Fellowship, a Presbyterian church located just East of where I am staying. The service is in Thai, but they have an English service in the evening once a month. I plan to use those days to visit other churches in the morning in order to get a fuller view of the visible Church in Bangkok.

Prayer Requests are largely the same as before. As September 14th draws nearer, we are preparing ourselves more and more for taking God's message in word and deed to the streets.

Week 2 - Theology of Presence

Ezra and Hannah, our hosts and Thailand's permanent Word Made Flesh (WMF) staff, are really Tim and Amy. In a moment of hyper-caution, I gave them aliases, not realizing it would take only the smallest amount of investigation on the Word Made Flesh site to assertain their real names. Still, I thought it prudent to get their permission, which they gave, before sending them to the world wide interweb.

I wrote the following several days ago after visiting a too-nice espresso shop closer to downtown:

He was from Miami. A pressed, Hawaiian shirt, untucked. Stylish, square, black-framed glasses. He was oldish, the other side of fifty, and spoke in loud, embarassing billows to his Asian date. A divorced traveller, he was out on a dysfunctional journey for youth. I saw myself at fifty five, caught in a chronic land rush where the lot could always be better and I never find a home. Hell. And then I can't read my Luther anymore.

Left in a hurry and walked back home. Listened to Seven Swans the whole way and Bangkok, in its shame, was filled with pathetic beauty. Sufjan is like the Patmos exile he loosely quotes, pulling holy mysteries from between the air. They are there in nature and in Word for any Christian prospector.

My Thai is improving in very small increments. I can now confidently ask a street vendor how to say "pineapple" and then politely ask for one portion of it. I did exactly this, but promptly forgot the word for "pineapple" upon paying. It is interesting to note that, despite our primary mission to the poor, some of our first relationships, out of practicality, have been made with the local food vendors with whome we have daily relationships. Bethany and I both have a respective "coffee guy/girl" who begin making our standard order as they see us walk up.

We taught for a second week at both the university Christian club on Wednesday and at the Khlong Toei kids center on Saturday. We were more well-prepared for both and, consequently, they both went better than before. The students know more English than we first thought, so the challenge now is making lessons more difficult, but still useful. One of the Khlong Toei kids--I'll call him Jacob--did cause quite a bit of trouble yesterday, managing to disrupt the older class, leave, and begin disrupting the younger class as well.

I admitted my anxiety to Tim about the street ministry that we will begin on September 14, given my limited Thai. Tim wanted to encourage me with a story from his short time at the Home for the Dying in Kolkata, which Mother Theresa opened in 1952. While there, Tim primarily worked with a old man who was blind and spoke only Bengali. Tim was drawn to the man by the humorous "yip!" he would shout at the other patients in an effort to get them to stop moaning.

Tim, who spoke almost no Bengali, would help the man stretch every day, conversing with him in English wile he replied in Bengali. Perceivably, no useful communciation resulted. Tim would tell the man when he was leaving every day and this the man understood, replying that he would see Tim tomorrow.

On Tim's final day, following their routine of stretching and confused dialogue, Tim said he was leaving. The man replied that he would see Tim the next day. Tim tried, and finally succeeded, in communicating the fact that it was his last day in India and that the man would not see him tomorrow. Tears crept out of the man's useless eyes. He laid down, rolled his back toward Tim and motioned with his hand for Tim to go.

Heartbreaking as it is, Tim's experience illustrates that relationship is not dependent upon verbosity, but rather presence. In spite of all their lost words, the man and Tim formed a true relationship that affected them both. Inasmuch as I am a temple of the Holy Spirit, the risen Christ can likwise build relationships with those I meet on the street, linguistic deficiencies notwithstanding.

We are reading a book called Companion to the Poor, by Viv Grigg. I'm a cheapo, so I bought a used copy online. In it, someone scrawled this: "It's not that hard. All you have to do is be willing to go, and the Spirit of God will move the people." Lord, move my feet, let them become Christ's feet, so that even the going will be yours.

Prayer Requests:

--Two people whose names and situations I cannot divulge. They both need a lot of prayer though.

--Pray for Jacob. It is true that he becomes a distraction for the other students who want to learn English, and must be removed when he does, but I suspect he has felt love by neither Creator nor created. I want him to leave, but I also desperately want him to stay. Pray for wisdom and his soul.

--Continue to pray for Thai lessons. I feel like I am falling behind and it's very important that I both learn the language and have the confidence to use it more.

Week 1 - Discovery sans Voyeurism

I have been in Bangkok nearly a week. Last Saturday was Boston to Chicago to Tokyo to Bangkok. Immediately off the plane, we were welcomed by our hosts Ezra and Hannah (not their actual names). They have been in Bangkok for several months now. The accomodations are simple and spacious. As the lone single male, I was given my own space on the third floor landing along with my own restroom. My floor mates, Jeff and Emily, are married and the other two servant team members, Melanie and Bethany, stay on the floor below.

The primary purpose to this past week has been discovery. Indeed, discovery of discovery, inasmuch as that is the phase in which Ezra and Hannah find themselves. They are searching for unique places God can use them. There are many parachurch organizations in Bangkok, but the needs here are legion and the ground is rocky. God has led our hosts to the red light districts, ministering among the bar girls and particularly to the families of immigrant beggers whose children are considered at risk to become entangled in the rampant prostitution industry. Ezra and Hannah have also been partnering with local churches in other areas of outreach.

As we learn about our hosts' ministry opportunities, we also have been immersed in studying the Thai language. On our second full day in Thailand, Ezra began teaching us. Our primary focus for this first month will be learning Thai during three hour lessons every day. This will be the basis for our ministry in the red light district, particularly for the girls since Ezra, Jeff, and I will be focusing our outreach toward the Western male tourists in those areas. Still, it will be an important resource for everyone on the team as we build relationships with our Thai neighbors and others with whom we will come in contact.

Concurrent with our language studies, we have been charged with teaching English in three different forums in partnership with a local church. The first is a Christian club at a local university and the students are current university students or recent graduates. The second is an outreach center near the Klong Toei slum and the students are children and young adults from the surrounding community. Both of these are weekly--Wednesday and Saturday--and have each had their first session over the last week. The third is a day camp for students and will take place over two weeks in mid October.

Gospel work among the poor has a distinctly romantic tone when you are sitting in a Boston cafe or a Dallas bar. Actually being here in Bangkok has muddied the water. The needs are enough to overwhelm the saintliest person and it is difficult to discern how one plays a part in God's sovereign will over a time as brief as four months, of which one sixteenth has already past. At these moments, the practice of knowing nothing but Christ and him crucified is paramount. That's where the work gets done, not individually, but as the sacred Body of Christ. This is why work done outside of Christ, however earnest, is essentially fruitless. It is, in fact, a double sin of tainted compassion and demonic presumption. Only as the gathered body of Christ can we do the work of the One who sent Him: redemption of the whole world, soul and body.

"Only a steel man came to recover...Only a real man can be a lover." - Sufjan Stevens

Prayer Requests:

--That I would be given the true gift of tongues. Thai is hard and I am embarrassed to use the little I know. Pray that I would work hard at learning it and be bold to use it.

--That we would be effective English teachers. Teaching English is also hard and I have no experience doing it. Pray that we, as a team, would work diligently at this task. It has the potential to develop important ministerial connections for Ezra and Hannah, who will continue working long after we're gone, and to establish a new, vital educational resource in one of Bangkok's poorest areas.

--That the Spirit would continue to pour love into my heart. I am, by nature, an uncompassionate wretch. But, in Christ, I can become a conduit for God's love. If I let my eyes stray for even a moment from the Cross and its call, I will fall flat. Pray for my fixed gaze.

Nomadic Ruminations

I am in Boston, just three and a half days from a flight to Bangkok and most people want to know whether or not I am excited. I cannot honestly answer that in neither the affirmative nor the negative. I have not any interest in accelerating myself toward Saturday nor am I tempted to tap the breaks. My expectations have been neutralized by a lack of specific information and the business of accomplishing remaining tasks. I am coasting and I am comfortable with that.

"The serious Christian, set down for the first time in a Christian community, is likely to bring with him a very definite idea of what Christian life together should be and to try to realize it. But God's grace speedily shatters such dreams." - Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together

It may seem fanciful to make much of a four month experience of close community, but one could say the same about the experience in its four month entirety. Why make anything of it at all? The reality is that this short mission's construction, inasmuch as I anticipate encountering depravity and captivity at a level about which I have heretofore been ignorant, is fairly grave. The same gravity extends to being jarringly bound together with other Christians in close quarters.

I have lived the past two years alone and have been thinking a lot about how this small community will operate practically. I suppose I entertain something of a monastic fantasy, because I like to picture myself as an austere, reverent, holy man. My psyche is really that warped. This rebuke of Bonhoeffer's serves as an important reminder to me that God's decreed will is holier than my sinfully flawed imagination. I do foresee us being daily joined together in prayer and sharing all that is essential about daily life: eating, working, resting. And I am looking forward to this, but beyond that, I have no vision, nor do I want to impose one.

"Christ was led by His love for others into the world, to forget himself in the needs of others...[This] means not that we should live one life, but a thousand lives - binding ourselves to a thousand souls by the filaments of so l oving a sympathy that their lives become ours." - B.B. Warfield

The above quote comes from a book by Tim Keller called Ministries of Mercy in a section titled "Imitating the Incarnation." Earlier last week, I was marveling at the fine line between a bankrupt liberation theology and a robustly orthodox incarnational theology. Both include an aim to work the restorative kingdom of God in and around the world's broken, oppressed communities, but only the latter has the faith to extend the victory to the soul.

Recently, I have been despairing about my lack of compassionate feelings, having the sense that my relationship to concepts such as compassion and mercy are purely academic or intellectual. Here I come to that craggy pit that presently consumes much of modern evangelicalism, that of the primacy of personal experience. Ultimately, it matters not a wit how merciful I feel. Christ is mercy. Christ is compassion. Christ is the good shepherd. Salvation belongs to Christ alone. Salvation is accomplished in Christ alone. Christ alone is my righteousness. So, when I despair of my fundamentally defective emotions, it should only give me cause to praise more my Lord in heaven with whom I have died, resurrected, and ascended; who stands at the throne, eternally holly mediator.

Prayer needs:

--That I would accomplish the few remaining tasks I have (malaria medication, quality footwear, required reading) in the next few days and without sinful worry.

--That God would bless me with firmer knowledge and vision of Christ's compassion.

--That God would guard me from sexual indiscretions while in Bangkok. I have heard too many stories in the past several weeks and I am loathe to be of the faithless who, Paul observes, did not "take heed" and thus fell. I and my fellow team members cannot afford to have any illusions about ourselves as holy people. We are, at our core, enemies of God saved by grace exhibiting a righteousness that is not our own.

$6860

That was the subject of an e-mail I received yesterday from Word Made Flesh. What it means is that my support amount was not only met, but exceeded by $1,660. I am extremely humbled by the generosity of those who were able to give. The amount by which my support exceeded the goal will be held until January. If, at that time, any of my team members have not been able to meet their goal, it will be applied to their account. Otherwise, Word Made Flesh will apply the amount to whichever of their ministerial locations is in the greatest need. Thanks all of you who have contributed your time in prayer and your financial resources toward helping Word Made Flesh preach the gospel of Christ among the poorest of the poor.

Let us pray...

"Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God. And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance;and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us." - Romans 5:1-5