Threats on our lives, that's what.
Not really. My husband says I'm a little dramatic some times which makes sense given that's he's an unceasing optimist. Like I've said before, on the days we don't drive each other crazy, we actually balance each other out pretty well.
Today is one of those rare days.
The Thai army declared martial law in Bangkok this morning which sounds a lot worse than it actually is or at least worst than what it appears to be. In my head the phrase "martial law" conjures up images of people running and screaming in the streets as shopkeepers hastily board up their doors and windows. That's not the case at all in the little corner of the city where we're living or any part of the city for that matter. In fact for all intents and purposes, today is business as usual everywhere we look.
Sure, we saw two waves of tanks and hummers fly down the street earlier last week and there's been more green helicopters overhead than I've seen in a long time, but normal life seems unimpeded by the forces of conflict brewing elsewhere in the city. I read the headline articles in the newspaper at the hospital each day asking for healing for our girl and wisdom for our family, but these days if it wasn't for twitter, we might as well have forgotten all about it as we go about daily life here.
Ha, I just said "daily life here" as if that were a thing. We got out of the hospital Sunday evening and are living at a guesthouse in the north of the city. The hosts have been very good to us and we've done our best to settle the kids back into their normal routine following a day and a half at the beach (where we went to escape the escalating political drama that intesified last monday) and then 5 more days in the hospital (due to an infection S developed during the 36 hours we were at the beach.) So with restrictions on travel within the city, we're still feeling very cooped up despite not living in the hospital anymore.
The kids are back in their normal afternoon nap schedule but I don't have a teacher coming during that time so I discovered this glorious pile of books in the guesthouse cafe.
They were written for middle schoolers but the stories are ageless. I picked up the first one because I recognized the last name and the outline of half an island I fell in love with a decade ago.
The author's son was a man my husband long admired before he was husband - the first second generation worker on the island where we worked back when that island was called Irian Jaya. This book, the beautiful story of his childhood, his parents' calling, and the raising up of true children of the Chief of the Sky took place in the very jungles my beloved hiked so long ago. We recognized the names and the places and the people groups. I read the book in its entirety in less than a day and cried the entire time.
I picked up book after book in this series and in pouring over their pages, I have found a very common theme.
"It did not prove to be quite so uncomplicated as they had envisioned."
"All seemed once again to be clear sailing. Then one morning..."
"And their work was fraught with numerous interruptions, inconveniences, and dangers of all kinds."
"We were stopped dead in our tracks yet another time."
Over and over they said these things that sum up my own life of late. Unexpected events. Changes in plans. Circumstances beyond our control. This whole time I've been wondering and asking "What is wrong with us?" I still don't know the answer but at least now I know we aren't alone.
The people in these books, they also had malaria and acute eye infections. Their children got sick. They moved constantly. Their loved ones passed away. They faced political unrest and paperwork issues. They were told by some that they were too old and by others, that they were too inexperienced. They had to travel far and wide for decent medical treatment. Their teams fell apart. Their children got sick, again, and then they had to move, again! And more than once, their lives were threatened (which hasn't happened to us yet).
Some talked of tribes, vine bridges, and gourds, rivers and airstrips and people groups in the thousands.
Some talked of market towns, characters, and tones and people groups in the tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands.
All spoke of sickness and suffering, homesickness and hardship. A medical emergency that ends in a city on the brink of civil war? It's really not all that surprising.
There's other themes in these books, too. Good ones like His faithfulness, our inadequacy, His sovereignty over circumstances, our desperate need for Him, peace, joy, hope, truth, His love for the nations, His care for His children, His power to heal and to save and to restore and to rescue.
The first couple about whom I read left Indonesia before my first birthday after 35 years of service. The husband passed away when I was in middle school and the wife passed away the year we got married. We never met them, but I know they were thinking of people like us when they recorded the precious words that would tell their life story. Each chapter in the book they left behind closes with a couple lines from the best book.
As this chapter on S's health and Bangkok's begins to draw to a close, I wanted to share with you the song my soul's been singing since those spots first appeared on our girl 15 days ago.
I jumped to conclusions and said, "I am cut off from your presence!" But you heard my plea for mercy when I cried out to you for help. P31.22