Gifts and Surprises - A Taylor 2013 Recap

"Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow."

I am not a gift-giver. Ha ha. I would LOVE to be - I'm just bad at it. This time of year is always a mental marathon as I try to decide what or how to give and to whom. What will be meaningful, but not wasteful? It's by and large because I'm not a "stuff" person. I value time. Want to give me a gift? Take me to coffee; let's have a philosophical conversation about ... well ANYTHING, really :D.

And then there is Dusty - the EPIC gift giver. Oh! And not only will he give the perfect gift, he'll have seen it materialize out of thin air for 25% of what one would normally pay for it. Ya. He's amazing.

All that and the focus of remembering Christ's entrance upon the stage of our planet - the gift and surprise of grace that His presence, life and death would bring - turns my mind to gifts at year's end. We have been given a great many gifts and surprises this year. Even struggle, I have come to see, is a precious gift from the Father as His hand curves around me and draws me into His side, under His wings.

Dezdin turned 5 in November. His life continues to be our favorite surprise to date. He is self-motivated, independent and a deep thinker. I'm often blown away by his assessments of the world around him and the depth of his spiritual questions. Though he would LOVE to be in school, the deadline holds him off until next fall, so he has been my little sidekick as we navigate the day. I've enjoyed teaching and prepping him for school this year and having the time to get to know him better - just us.

Draes turned 6 in June and is a delightfully-wrapped package of service and encouragement. Anyone who has met him is nodding as they read this. Dusty and I stand in awe at the ability he possesses to just pour love on people. It's amazing and humbling to unwrap aspects of your children you KNOW you have not passed on or cultivated. Every day, he teaches us what it is to find joy in serving and edifying others. My favorite thing is seeing the surprise and joy in a stranger's face when he randomly blurts out, "You're really smart! Have a great day!"

Daxton reached double digits this year. I can remember how terrified I was to be first-time mom. Now I wake each day to the gift of this young-man becoming. He's still very "kid," but has crossed new barriers of confidence and leadership this year. It's such a treasure to enjoy my time with him and realize with anticipation that I'm excited to be his friend one day down the road. His dad and I had the privilege of taking him with us to Thailand in August. We have always wanted to begin young laying a passion in our kids' hearts for missions and service. It was amazing to watch him adapt so effortlessly into a foreign culture and love the people like they were merely new neighbors (click for more!).

Dusty . . . I know I say the same thing about him every year, but it's true. He is like whirling, highly-productive tornado navigating ministry, (click to see Dusty!) business and family. I marvel at the way he relates to the boys - so thankful. Though I can meet their emotional needs, I cannot understand their "manliness" as he does. It's fun to watch their esteem and sense of identity grow in his presence. I don't know how, but in addition to all that, he still finds time to be my friend and do some of the things he loves. This month we are releasing a new album (click to link): songs he wrote sung by several members of the Connections worship team. I have loved watching him take songs that came from his heart and share them - even ownership of them - with others for their joy, worship and experience. We were also able to collaborate with some of our prior bandmates again. That is always a gift.

I (Tammi) have unwrapped a great deal of joy this year. The first gift being my precious family, I have also been able to watch God bring healing and freedom to many people through transforming prayer. Having journeyed - and continuing to walk - this healing road myself, it's cathartic to bear witness with others as the Spirit leads them into truth and sets them free. I have learned not to run from pain, but rest in it and let the Lord use it to knit my heart more fully to His (sounds churchy, I know, but it's the picture in my mind) and heal through it toward greater freedom. I experienced this in a very real way in Thailand - you can read that blog by clicking here. I've also learned that as difficult as it is, healing is highly preferable to "running" on a broken leg. After returning from Thailand, I was ill and in bed for close to a month. Thinking it was just jet lag ... led to wondering if it was a parasite ... led to scheduling a doctor's appointment ... led to realizing we were actually PREGNANT! Yup! Surprise! Ha ha. So although IN THAILAND I had told God my heart was content with three kiddos, He laughingly revealed #4 was already on the way. He does that with me - puts things on my heart so the crazy timing won't completely uproot me. Didn't plan to have a baby this close to 40, but we trust Him and know His gifts are more than we can ask or imagine.

I am thankful for this - that while I am not a great gift-giver, He is. And His gifts (even when they are packaged in ugly wrapping or come, seemingly, too early or too late) are true and lasting... even eternal in the case of Jesus. And we are grateful for another year of gifts AND surprises. Our prayers are with you and yours. May you have eyes to look back on 2013 with gratitude and ahead with hope and anticipation in the One who holds all things and from whom comes "every good and perfect gift" (James 1:17).

All our love,

Dusty, Tam, Dax, Drae, Dez and TBA Taylor ;)

Today

I apologize for my silence the last couple days. I've been wrestling with some things and not sure how or what to share.

At this moment, it is 3:45 am. I am sitting in a hotel in Bangkok, waiting for the taxi to take us to the airport. I am overwhelmed. As Brittany's alarm went off this morning to the song "Restless" by Switchfoot, I was overcome with tears.

How do I go home? I am not the same. (You never are after experiences like this. I knew that was coming.) I know I am not called here full time, like some. But I am not the same Tammi I was. It will affect everything. I will return to my life somewhat an alien. And I don't want to go back and just add this to a list of photographs in the mental album of my life.

But in my devotions, God led me to this:

"Behold my servant whom I have chosen; M beloved in whom My soul is well-pleased; I will put My Spirit upon Him and He shall proclaim justice to the [Thais]. . . A battered reed He will not break off, and a smoldering wick He will not put out until He leads justice to victory. And in His Name the [Thai People] will hope." Matthew 12:18-21

He is the victor. He will hold my heart and lead me, as a new self, through a life full of patterns and relationships that must be navigated anew. He is the author and finisher of faith. And HE will bring the Thais to hope. The work is His.

Praise Jesus.

Days 11 & 12

Saturday, I was still in a great deal of pain, so Dusty and Dax went to teach English. Ros said in the slow season the people have more time to come so they make themselves available more often. The location teaching (at McDonalds) is relatively new. She used to simply walk the streets and teach whomever was interested.

Pain is a distractor. I'm frustrated that it is keeping me either down or unable to invest my whole self. But, today I found a Thai New Testament. Long story, but I feel like . . . no I KNOW God is telling me to give it to Thom (recently realized I was misspelling his name :/ ). Perhaps the pain will last just as long as it takes to deliver it to him???

Saturday night we gathered in our room for team worship. James and Gail (Irish friends Jeremy and Lisa had met when they were here) had arrived and joined us. It's a precious, crazy-amazing thing to gather as the Body when there are so few of you. I feel like I understand better why such amazing things happened in the Acts church. Of course they wanted to fellowship and break bread together EVERY DAY. Of course they soaked up the apostle's teaching like sponges. When those who share your faith and values are less than 1% of the population, having time with said saints is a deep breath of pure oxygen.

This morning we had ACC and shortly after were scheduled to head out to another village to teach English. I was concerned about the time frame. Since God had made the directive clear that I was to give a New Testament to Thom, and because my neck really needed to be worked on again, I wanted to get to the #10 hut before we left. "Lord, help it to fit," I prayed. Interestingly, the resort where we meet asked us to end early that day due to other events going on! Hmmm. I thought. I had spent the better part of service (yes, while listening ;) ) searching my Bible for salvation scriptures and then, by counting books, locating them in the Thai New Testament and underlining them. I figured, if he only thumbed through it, these might catch his notice.

I hurried slowly to the spot. "Interestingly" again, the gentleman who did my massage worked almost exclusively on my left side (where my injury is) without my ever mentioning it. Then I gave Thom the New Testament. When I said, "Praht Jao tell me give this to you. You read? Praht Jao uay pan!" He looked at me like I might be slightly mental . . . he's not entirely wrong, ha ha. But I also imagine his gods don't speak to him, so that would be new. It was kind of refreshing, though, that I felt out of my element sharing it with him - much like I feel sharing with people in the states. It reminds me I'm doing what I've been commanded, not what is comfortable. And while that is unsettling, it is also strangely securing. Please pray for the Spirit to draw Thom.

I got back just in time to change and meet the team to head to Kru Salee's village (Jeremy's Muay Thai trainer). They have a beautiful clearing just behind their village where we were able to gather, play games and sing songs to help teach them English. It was extraordinary. They are such a sweet people.

From there, much of the team went on to do manual labor for another ministry in a Sea Gypsy village. Do you know what a sea gypsy is? Yup, me neither. I'll probably google it hereafter or wait for the team to get back and explain. The work their doing is a bit dangerous - working in dirty sea water - so children were not allowed. Between Dusty and me, I suppose they got the better deal.

I ask for your prayers for complete healing of this pain soon. I would like to finish well. It is a great struggle to be effective in this condition. Thank you!

Days 9 & 10

It's interesting what snags you come across on the mission field and the extra mental acuity it seems to take to convince yourself, "It's all okay!"

Thursday morning the rain kept us from group prayer time. The sun was shining again just in time for meeting up to teach English. That has been a blessing and a constant each week day. We are never certain who is going to show up, but we always know God has ordained the time.

After lunch we walked to the beach for a team meeting to discuss plans for the next several days. Ros and Ed have a spot they frequent, and, since many of us are without phones and a way to communicate, it's always a good place to find one another.

Nopparattara Beach is speckled with Thais, each peddling his or her particular massage hut. The salesman or saleswoman rarely administers massages. Rather, he or she tends to be the best English speaker and most able to engage foreigners to come make a purchase. I had asked Dusty to take the sand and not the road because I wasn't in the mood to reject the kind advances of all the salespeople. But suddenly he was upon us. Hustling across the sand, "Tom" - likely not his given name - offered us sliced pineapple, handed us a flyer and proceeded to walk us down the beach all the time chatting us up about where we were from, if we liked the sun (because of our white skin lol), explaining how the Thais prefer the rain, etc, etc. I'm an easy mark. I think my demeanor screams, "Pick me. I won't say no." But that's why we're here, right? To love on the Thais? Yes, it is! So I listened and questioned him back. He is from the Northeastern part of the country. He came here three years ago to earn money, some of which he sends back to support his family.

Then the conversation became instantly spiritual. He told me sometimes he must go to the temple and give offerings so the gods will bless him or give him luck. I listened for a bit, praying all the time, then asked if I could share what we do. I explained in broken English with one or two Thai words that we pray to Praht Jao (exalted God) and Praht Jesu. That we don't have to worry because He loves us and provides all we need. When we reached our stopping point, I told him I had to meet friends but would try to come back tomorrow and that I would pray - that God would show him His love and blessings.

As if to force me not to abandon my oath, I woke this morning with horrible pain in my neck. After taking several ibuprofen to no avail and being tired of lying on my back, I decided to go see Tom's people and run the risk that a massage would bring more healing than harm. I had the opportunity to chat with him a little more, and I am praying God reveals Himself to Him in a dream or vision. I'm not sure what God is going to do there, but I know He cares for Tom.

As I walked home I thought of Tom and O-ay, Nok, Booee, Camel, Chrishna, Sah . . . the list of faces that surpasses the names I can recall. My heart broke as I considered leaving them. I know my calling is not to be here permanently, but the thought of them being stuck here in the dark as I return to so much light is terrifying. Were it not for Doc and Zina, their family, Ed and Ros, Ong and his family, Chris and April, Jason and Kezia and the few others shining the light in this spiritually opaque land, I would have no hope.    Romans 10:14-15

Day 8 - Spirit and Truth

I wrote back on August 7th about idols - my concern that I not be self-deceived into thinking I am "above" worshiping falsely just because my idols are not visible.

Every day, here, we face graven images first hand. It is so in-your-face, but I'm still a little startled each time. There is one on a building across the street from where we are staying that just exudes evil. I know that sounds weird, but I pray against it every time I notice it.

Today we hiked Wat Tham Sua. One of the verses God had given me before we left was Zechariah 4:17 "What are you, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become a plain; and he will bring forth the top stone with shouts of 'Grace, grace to it!' " Of course, at the time, I felt it was YHWH's confirmation to us that He would remove obstacles from our path by His power (one meaning of the word "grace"), but you had better believe I spoke "grace" to that mountain as I climbed all promised 1,237 steps (Lisa says it's more like 1250-something). It was especially empowering against certain stairs that were practically knee high!

At the top it's impossible not to be awed and saddened by the magnitude of these creations they have erected to a non-living god - especially when one of the Buddha's final commands ordered them NOT to build idols to him, but to seek the "ever-living" God. I use a capital "g" because I know the deity of whom he spoke even if he was never sure. ;)

Doc referenced Elijah's "battle" with prophets of Baal - when he teased them, "Shout louder. Perhaps your god is sleeping or relieving himself . . ." (1 Kings 18:16-39). The heart-breaking difference is that those worshippers of Baal had known Jehovah. The Thai people have no concept of a Lord who loves them. They only know silent gods or, worse, demons who torment them and keep them from the rest that might give them relief to hear truth.

On the streets there is a sarcasm and a desperation - survival emotions bred of a belief in karma - and as the sun goes down the darkness is palpable. Hatred, lust and apathy leer at me from behind broken eyes. I wish I could reach inside, pull out the Spirit that I have and hand it to them.

And the thing is, friends. I think the Lord is less grieved by their idolatry than by ours. In the West, we do not carve images and seek their favor, or place them on our mountain tops, but we fashion objects in our hearts. We look to each other to make us "happy." We resent one another and abandon promises when we are not satisfied. We even worship God in idolatry sometimes. Just like the Thais with their gods, we seek Him only for His favor or for protection from the things we don't want to face. But do we worship Him in Spirit and in Truth? Do we lay down our lives for others the way He laid His down for us? Are we daily seeking HIM - not just our understanding of Him? Are we surrendering our agendas and comforts each day that  His kingdom might come?

I sit on the beach here and cry that I am SO blessed to have been drawn at a young age to a God who loves me. That I do not have to climb a mountain to worship. That I do not have to build a spirit house to know my God is with me. Rather, He has come down the mountain to me (Oh Jesus, I am so unworthy of Your love!) Rather, His Spirit has made his HOME IN ME!!!  Father, help us who know you to WAKE UP and worship you, as Jesus said, in Spirit and in Truth that Your Spirit may be free to move through us and touch lives. That through us Your fire might fall and people will cry, "The Lord, He is God! The Lord, He is God!"            http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03YxgFrDreg

Days 6-7

Yesterday was hard. I woke up with a burden I could not shake.

We started, as always, with prayer time together. A little relief came when I confessed the fear out loud.

We taught English. I had the honor of teaching a muslim woman Ed and Ros have befriended (her name escapes me just now). Most of her face is badly burned and reconstructed with skin grafts. And yet, there is a light inside her that shines when she hears "Gang Mahk" (you're good at that). She is doing wonderfully, and last week accepted a New Testament from Ros. Even with that amazing knowledge, and the hope of her life right in front of me, I was distracted.

We took a few hours to "meditate or pray or seek the Lord" Ros said, in preparation for walking the streets that night. It was wonderful - full of truth and connection with another team mate. But I couldn't shake the heaviness.

As we began walking, just Dax and myself, I struggled to help him understand what we were doing. "It's God's work," Ros had said. "What happens is His; what doesn't happen is His. We are just trying to be faithful and obedient to where and to whom the Spirit leads us." But even knowing that . . . I was terrified.

The enemy just seemed to hover over my head with questions I could not fully hear or fight over the chaos and darkness of the streets here. "What are you doing?" "You don't even speak their language." "How will you explain Jesus to them?" "What good can you really do?"

It makes sense that Ed and Ros, Doc and Zina, Jeremy and Lisa could make a difference. They were here day in and day out. "Mama Ros" is known all over the street. They see her coming and their faces change from tired, hopeless or predatory to hopeful, vulnerable and childlike. It's . . . unlike anything I've ever experienced - except perhaps the rapture on a child's face when he or she sees "Mommy" returning.

But what could we do? We met a few people - entered their shops - learned their names. Foundations. Next time we see them, we can reach out further. The heaviness didn't really lift until this morning. Even now, I can't say it is fully gone, but I take that as my continued call to prayer. It is His work.

Today was better. Daxton asked specifically to teach English to Chrisna today. It's fun to see him making connections with our brothers and sisters here. We walked the streets and met more future friends - doing all we can to show love and grace.

Pray for your missionaries - here and in other parts of the world. Even when you have a small network, it can be such a roller coaster of joy and grief as people come to faith, but wickedness continues to claim hearts and hopes. And even still, He is One. And the work is His.   Psalm 115:1

Day 5 - Every Tribe and Tongue - the family of God

I saw her again. The muslim woman. She and her family "happened" to have breakfast at the same place we were dining. We shared a bright smile - like a brilliant confirmation of all God has planned in her life. I spent the rest of breakfast noticing the similarities and differences in our families. I wanted to know if she wore her burka joyously or if it was a bondage. And I searched my heart with the same questions. A heavy burden rolled over my spirit like a cloud: "How do I pray for someone when I am so far from knowing her or comprehending her situation? I don't even know her name."

"Don't try to understand. Just pray." Came the answer.

During service at ACC, Dusty challenged us to hear the smallest voice of God. I wondered in mirth if the Thais and Nepalis present thought he might be speaking in tongues without an interpreter.

At discussion time, Rosie (Doc and Zina's daughter) relayed how they had liquidated their life in America in about two weeks, acquired their passports in eleven days and come. Then "Susie" began to share. In broken English mixed with Burmese she told the Paulean story of how God called her to Thailand with little money (about 1200 bat - or 36ish American dollars) and no contacts. Her family thinks she's crazy. She sometimes wonders if it isn't true, but God leads her and provides for her and gives her opportunities to minister. Even though I caught about every fifth word, I understood. As we held hands, she apologized that she could only pray in Burmese, but we all agreed - the Spirit interprets for us. So we prayed for one another - sisters of different circumstances chasing the same Heart. It was beautiful.

At 1 o' clock we piled into two different cars . . . And, yes, I literally mean piled. Six of us smashed into the five-person cab and four more sat in the truck bed. "If we were in America we would SO be getting arrested for this." Anyway, the caravan made its way to Krabi Town to celebrate with Pastor Ong, his little family and their church as they had their first, fully-structured service in his new home.
"Check out THAT cross!" Jeremy crowed as we turned onto Ong's street. Probably four or five feet tall, constructed INTO THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE in glass tile, was Ong's cross. I marveled at the thought that when the sun goes down in Krabi, the True Light shines through. :D

EVERY person who claims the name of Jesus should pursue AT LEAST a short term mission just for the experience of worship. The song sheets were graciously printed in Thai and English. We all exulted later at how otherworldly it was to sing the same song in at least two different tongues - at the same time! Then pastor Ong shared about God's justice and mercy (Matthew 20:1-16) while Pastor Chris interpreted (Chris, his wife April and their girls were Thai missionaries who came back to South Thailand last year - for such a time as this).  They spoke about how Thailand is so steeped in the concept of Karma [Whatever your circumstances are you deserve them. You must have done something in a previous life to earn them (we in the West really need to stop jokingly using that term. It is a sad, hopeless thing to believe)] - that the Grace of God and the mercy of God are absolutely unknown to them. They cannot even hope for such a love. So when we as believers walk in these places, we truly carry the Light and the Hope. As I listened to the English and Thai and Burmese spoken and sung today...  As I looked around at my brothers and sisters from, Thailand, Burma, Nepal, Georgia, South Africa, Virginia and, yes, Idaho :) I was reminded of Revelation 5:9 "And they sang a new song saying, 'Worthy are you to take the book and break its seals; for you were slain, and purchased for God with your blood men from every tribe and tongue and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to our God; and they will reign upon the earth.' "

Pray for your family across the world, and ask God when you are to GO. "Please send young people here to learn and speak Thai," April pled. "It's really had!" And she laughed. Pray, Connectors - and anyone reading this. When it comes to missions, we are all called to go. It's simply a matter of to where, when and for how long. Begin the ask - He will provide the details. Your family misses you. Come for a visit. ;)

Thailand Day 4 - Unlikely People. Unlikely Places

7-11
We are NEVER awake at 5 in the morning. NEVER. Perhaps that's why we lacked the common sense to realize that feeding him our favorite Thai snacks from 7-11 was less than wise.

Sugar + 9-year-old, empty stomach = jittery at best.

It was 5 a.m. Surely there is grace for that?

At prayer time he flicked and twitched, scooted his chair loudly, broke my reverence by lovingly touching my arm and urged me to stop crying . . .
"AGH! Sugar. Empty Stomach!" I shook my head. "Lord, how do we help him see the magnitude of all this? Is it possible?"
". . . by my Spirit, says the Lord," came the whisper. (Zechariah 4:6)

Mcdonalds
"You very good teachah!" the young, Nepali man encouraged Dax as they poured over the children's book between them. Camel (my own student) laughed along. Dax and I guided their pronunciation of tough words like "through" and "bear" (Bhalu in Hindi. Yup should have remembered that one!) and they giggled at our attempts to mimic their native tongue. They shared with smiles the sad details of having to live here, alone, to find work. Ed and Ros teach them English - which raises their value at the Indian Restaurants where they're employed - and the love of Jesus.

Daxton flicked and twitched, scooted his chair too loudly, laughed with his new friends and reiterated God's love through his time and his presence. He asked them crazy, seemingly-irrelevant questions, and they all snickered together - connected by some global level of boyishness. The Spirit is vast, beyond mere "sensibility" or convention, and He is good!

The Strip
We walked the street, following Ros's lead as she called to the locals.
"Two minutes? Five minutes?" She asked in her sweet, South African cadence. They call her Mama or Madame and take their smoke breaks to read through a children's book with her.
"How much?" One taxi driver asked. His face flashed astonishment when she told him it cost nothing. In a land where Westerners come mostly to use and take, Ed and Ros shine brightly. Brittany and I sat, transfixed as she shared story after story of the Burmese, Nepalese and Thais she has ministered to: Nok - who accepted Christ just a month ago and has already led 7 or 8 others to the Lord ("That I know of," Ros laughed). The young man Dax had taught earlier - who just days ago said, "Mama, I no more Hindu. I Christian now."  The ten-year-old, Garoob, who is living and working here ALONE! His mother is back in India, and he works twelve to fifteen hour days!
"I really hope Dax can meet him," she said. So. Do. I.

The Restaurant
I had to sit on the side of the bed and pray to surrender my spirit again. I don't love performing in my country - and here we were going to sing in front of people, many of whom do not even speak our language. Insecurity. Fear of seeming arrogant. Whatever it was, I gave it to Him and walked down the stairs to meet everyone else. It was during "Say Your Name" that I saw them. Just before the chorus where we break into an intense cry of the name JESUS, I locked eyes with the brilliant smile of a Muslim woman! Tears overtook me as I sang His Name - now with my whole soul and prayed she and her friend and their precious boys would hear His heart, His Spirit in His Name. I wondered if they would walk away when they realized who we were singing about, but they stayed. Rachel blasted her Celtic fiddle down the strip and the little boys danced. Zina busted out gospel tracks and shared the love of Jesus. Still they stayed. After we had all finished, Ed came to me.

"Tammi, these ladies are from Dubai. They are leaving in the morning, but wondered where they could find your music." With a humble heart I sat across the table from these two beautiful Muslim women and shared our information with them - wishing desperately I just had something to put in their hands. "It's such a blessing we heard you tonight," one of them said, "we leave for home in the morning. Your husband has such a melodic voice!" He laughed out loud (awkwardly so) when I told him she had said that. Dax held my hand as we prayed the Spirit of Christ would continue to draw them and that they might become ministers of the gospel of peace in their circles of influence.

Doc said it well tonight, "I've just learned, God doesn't usually make sense, but 'trust not in your own understanding.' " And as my boys would quote it, ". . . in ALL your ways, SEEK HIM, and HE will direct your paths." Even when you've had little sleep and too much sugar! Oh amazing, equipping and exhausting Presence of God - where will you lead tomorrow? . . .

Thailand Day 1 . . . or is it 1-3? Oh, I'm so confused!

--------(BOI)
"There are air traffic delays in San Francisco today, so you won't make that Tokyo flight. It's looking like tomorrow morning will be the earliest we can get you out . . ."

That was the FIRST thing we heard as we endeavored to make our way to South Thailand. I immediately grabbed my phone and enlisted every social media venue I could conjure, asking people to pray.

"Breathe, Tammi, breathe," I told myself, "The whole point of this is to stretch your trust level and follow the Spirit in each moment. He's got this." Breathing exercises don't seem to lower my stress level, however, and I didn't have any chocolate handy (future note to self) so I just smiled and prayed. Smiled and prayed.

Within about ten minutes the AMAZING United clerk had us completely rebooked for THAT day on a different airline (all four on the same flights, even) through Taipei rather than Tokyo. Dusty and Brittany were a little sad to be missing Tokyo this year. Dax and I were blissfully ignorant. And all of us were asking, "Where in the world is Taipei?" Apparently our world geography classes had been less than compelling.
--------(SFO)
"Are you going to Bangkok?" I figured she had picked me because I looked like the only one most certain to speak English. Her sweet face lit up at my affirmative reply, and we chatted about our problems getting to SFO, the brevity of our layover in Taipei and our hopes that we could catch our continuing flights to South Thailand. "Shaabshom," she replied when I asked her name, "But you can just call me Shabby." I'm having this funny feeling we will see Shabby again while we are here.
--------(Somewhere over the Pacific)
"What was your first name?"
"Just call me William," he smiled knowingly as he continued to tell me about his emigration from Taiwan, his journey to belief in Jesus Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit and his purpose in going back to set up care for his ill father. Surprise crossed his face when I told him I would be praying for his dad.
"You're a minister," I said, "You will be ministering to him, and you never know where someone's heart is." We blessed one another as we parted ways.

I thanked YHWH for the change in plans. I never would have met Shabby. I never would have met William or sat next to the Air Force Doctor who encouraged my son. I would not have bumped into the hurting couple who "happened" to show up in the lobby an hour after we checked in. (Jesus how would you have us minister to them?)

Long flights. Little sleep. Strained tensions. Massive God. Huge Opportunities. Great blessing. Mammoth hope. Skyped with my little family back home and now to rest in anticipation of how He might use us tomorrow. Blessings to you who are praying. He was moving even before we took the first step.

Unearth Your Idols

Heading to Thailand in T- 2 weeks. This is what He has on my heart.

Amos 5:21-26

²¹ “I hate, I reject your festivals,
Nor do I delight in your solemn assemblies.
²² “Even though you offer up to Me burnt offerings and your grain offerings,
I will not accept them;
And I will not even look at the peace offerings of your fatlings.
²³ “Take away from Me the noise of your songs;
I will not even listen to the sound of your harps.
²⁴ “But let justice roll down like waters
And righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

²⁵ “Did you present Me with sacrifices and grain offerings in the wilderness for forty years, O house of Israel? ²⁶ You also carried along Sikkuth your king and Kiyyun, your images, the star of your gods which you made for yourselves.

We don't have many traditional idols in America. It is becoming more prevalent as seekers turn to Eastern religions. But those of us who say we trust Jesus would feign to acknowledge we worship idols. There are no carved images of contrived deities in our homes. We do not burn incense to or pray at the altar of any other "god." But do we?

In two weeks Dusty and I (and our nine-year-old) are heading to a land fraught with literal idolatry. I'm interested to see how my spirit will respond. I am wondering who is the more deceived. They KNOW what they worship.

Oh our idols are less garish, less apparent perhaps (though not to YHWH), but they are there. As I read this passage this morning, I imagined the Israelites traveling for decades from one wilderness to the next with these heavy, gaudy images in tow all while they had the true, LIVING God in their presence. 

But how different am I? How different are we? We have buried our idols under the floorboards of our lives. We have built them into the walls of our hearts and they lie hidden, just inches under the supple, garden dirt of our souls eking their pollution into the fruit of our lives. 

Yet, their arrogance cries out to God - mocks the one we say is our Lord.

"What idols do I have?" You ask. "I don't worship any other god?" But don't we?

We don't have to build an actual altar or apply conscious worship to something for it to be a god. We simply have to look to IT rather than YHWH to provide for us something we desire or even need. Shall I name some?  Relationship. Approval. (or non-disapproval) Security. Comfort. Entertainment. Beauty. Food. Status. Significance. They are sneaky and subtle, but they are idols just the same. And their fruit displays an array of recognizable shades as well: Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Rage. Control. Unforgiveness. Arrogance. 

Then, like a wounded, husband, the Rescuer stands and says, "You love ME? Why then do we dine with your exes? We do you seek their favor or shelter? Love ME. Serve ME. Worship ME. BE MINE."

Verse 23 broke my heart. I cannot imagine my Love asking me to stop singing. I do not want to get to the other side of the earth and find that my shrouded objects of worship actually overshadow their graven images. I will unearth my idols - or, rather, ask Him to do so. I will toss them into the furnace of His holiness. He is all. He is sufficient.

Psalm 32:8 "I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you."

(when we unearth our idols, we may be frightened by what we find...)

We're Going to Thailand!

Hey! We're going to Thailand!!!!! Click on the letter below to read about it.  See afterward for prayer and support info!

Please be praying. If you'd like to receive video and email updates, please send your email address to: ttaylor@imconnected.org

If you'd like to support our team, go to www.imconnected.org and click on "give" in the bottom, right-hand corner. Thanks friends. We're excited to see what God will do! 

(Click here for highlights from last year's trip!)   Love,  D&T

Wrestling to Rest: mommy heart

I won't give it a label. Because right now it's not what's important. Suffice it to say, it's this season's struggle for him. My oldest baby. My little man. My buddy.

School.

He's bright - even "brilliant" my counselor friend says. It's that aptitude that keeps him buoyed academically. The other obstacles pull at his ankles as we do our best to toss life preservers and call out swimming strategies.

We could just pull him out of the water. But we know that is not the best option. Not for him. Not this season.

And every day my heart screams. And some well-meaning person says, "Op! His nose dipped under." And I think, "Yes, I know. And if he stays under I'll dive in after him, but right now he's still fighting."

And every day I pray. And some days there are glimpses of hope. A strategy here and there that brings success. And other days there is the teasing. The tears. The look in his eye - the frustration in his voice. The anxiety that exacerbates it all.

The other week I sent him, again, into what often feels like the lion's den. And I cried and begged YHWH to please protect him, please shield him, please help him to thrive.

Then my Still, Small Voice whispered, "Beloved. How many times have you prayed - even before he was born - that I would raise him up to be a great man of God? How can that be accomplished if he never has anything to overcome?"

So I writhe in the arms of my Love. I stay my enabling hand. Aiding, but not rescuing - though every fiber of my existence wars against me. Because greater than my frail, fixing love for this prince is the love of the One who created and died for him. Because he is already precious and amazing - but overcoming these waves will make him great. And because he has a Savior who can teach him how to walk on water.

Jesus, help me wrestle to rest.

Job 9:5-8 It is God who removes the mountains, they know not how,
         When He overturns them in His anger;

Who shakes the earth out of its place,
         And its pillars tremble;

Who commands the sun not to shine,
         And sets a seal upon the stars;

Who alone stretches out the heavens
         And tramples down the waves of the sea;

No Offense to the Neck . . .

A week or so ago, we were talking with friends about the statement, "The man is the head, but the woman is the neck and the neck can turn the head any way she wants." (quoted from MBFGW)

It gave me pause for at least twenty four hours thereafter.

Because, really?

1. It's false. The brain moves the head (and everything else, truthfully).

And 2 . . . the neck HAS no brain (of its own - the brain doesn't tend to fair well outside the head). Rather, the neck is a mindless tool which serves its purpose but mainly takes orders from the brain and houses the hoses that move things from point A to point B. Not to mention the fact that it tends to get "wrenched" easily. Do you, as a woman, want to be associated with that? Not me.

I'd rather be the heart. :)