Day of rest. Sort of...

Sunday is for rest, right? Well, Tutu did take Kori, Xiu Dan and I to get Thai Massages after lunch (imagine chiropractic-meets-Brazilian-jiu-jitsu). But aside from that, it's been non-stop activity all day long.

We started the morning with church at our main campus in Doi Saket -- all of the kids and staff from our seven homes in town, as well as neighbors and a contingent from another organization's orphan homes joining their voices in worship. Pretty amazing.  

After lunch, my sons went out with Tutu's son and nephew and played video games at a local internet café while Kori, Xiu Dan and I endured/enjoyed the aforementioned massages. We then returned to Doi Saket 1 and spent the remaining sunlight hours playing cricket and soccer.  

At dusk, we said goodbye to the Doi Saket 1 kids and headed into the city for the Sunday walking market. We ate some great street food and wandered around with a multitude of others, mostly tourists, looking at but not buying the handicrafts and souvenirs.

It's 11pm now, and I'm feeling weary but blessed. It feels like we've crammed a week's worth of activities into a single day. Tomorrow we'll exhaust ourselves all over again. Maybe Tuesday we'll get some rest. Or maybe not... 

 

John McCollumComment
Asia's Hops

A couple of years ago, one of our staff members had some shirts made for an Asia's Hope soccer team and misspelled ever so slightly the name. Hey, his English is a lot better than my Thai. 

At any rate, these pics are from our evening at the wonderful Doi Saket 3 and Doi Saket 4 children's homes. I'm so grateful for Grace Community Church in Fremont, Ohio, sponsors of both of these homes. Thank God for the staff and congregation under the leadership of Pastor Kevin Pinkerton. Without their help, these orphaned kids would have languished in extreme poverty, at high risk of sexual and economic exploitation.

John McCollumComment
Settling in

We spent about six hours today in transit, and only about one hour of that was in the air. The flight from Bangkok to Chiang Mai is short and uneventful; it's the getting in and out of airports that takes so long.

After a long, long day, however, we're finally settling in at our house in Chiang Mai, graciously loaned to us for a couple weeks by a Thai friend of Tutu Bee, our country director.

After arriving at the Chiang Mai airport at about 4:30pm, we dropped our bags off at the house and headed to a wonderful little roadside restaurant in Doi Saket before joining the team from Goshen, Indiana for the evening at our DS1 campus. (The mediocre lunch at the Bangkok airport cost 8 times as much as our delicious dinner; truly the best meals can be found at the least impressive eateries.)

The kids and staff from 8 of our 10 Thailand homes joined together for a service of thanksgiving and dedication of the home that had burned down in December, and which was rebuilt quickly by the generosity of a number of our churches, Grace Community, Goshen Indiana, included. It was a treat to have Pastor Jim Brown and a team from the church present for the occasion.

Unfortunately, the service lasted longer than our energy, so I had Khun Cho, one of our staff, drive us home. The kids and Kori are in bed and I'm waiting for Tutu to arrive with some supplies for our week -- the house we're in came without towels and linens. 

I'm completely beat. Everyone's in relatively good spirits. Kori and Xiu Dan are fighting their strep bravely. I count all of these as blessings. Soon, I hope, I'll also be counting sheep. 

Hitting our stride in Bangkok

We arrived in Bangkok around 11:45pm, and after a half hour or so of scrambling around to find misplaced-but-thankfully-not-lost-luggage, we got onto the shuttle bus to our transit hotel, a non-descript little joint about five minutes from the airport. Xiu Dan turned 8 years old on the bus ride, and we sang "Happy Birthday" to her amid the tolerant, but barely amused, half-smiles of the other weary travelers.

Despite a brief argument with the hotel manager about our reservations, we got settled into our two rooms (boys in one, Kori, Xiu Dan and in the other), and attempted to sleep off a little of the 33 hour journey. I slept pretty well, aided by pharmaceuticals. Kori and Xiu Dan tossed and turned, but caught a few winks. I think the boys stayed up most of the night watching TV. Jet lag's a bit challenging. 

We woke up and showered, and I walked around the neighborhood to check out the dining options. I returned to the rooms, gathered the family and headed out to a place that I correctly assumed would have decent, standard-fare Thai food. As Anthony Bourdain has observed, some of the best food in the world is eaten outside on plastic stools.

We had fried flat noodles with pork in soy, mixed seafood curry, fried rice with pork and a fiery crispy pork and vegetable stir fry. It was all delicious. Cheap and delicious. Beats to heck a coffee shop muffin or breakfast burrito from McD's.

We're all still a little buzzy from the travel, and I feel like I've got a migraine brewing. But we're glad to be back. This just feels right. The weather is unbearably hot, no one can understand a word we say, and within a few hours, we'll be mobbed by a couple hundred sweaty Asia's Hope kids in Chiang Mai. We leave Bangkok at 3pm and we should be "home" by dinner time.

Join me in the journey!

In four weeks, I'll be headed back to Asia with my family. As usual, we're scrambling to get everything finished. We'll start out in Thailand, then India, and we'll end up in Cambodia.

Each of these places holds dear family and friends and a very special place in my heart. I'm especially excited this year to return to Cambodia to see what God has done in just about a year.​

​On June 27, 2012, I stood in a large and unremarkable field just outside of Phnom Penh with members of our staff and a group of visionary men and women led by Pastor Tim Armstrong of Crossroads Church in Mansfield, Ohio, and we prayed that God would give us the land, and would give us the money needed to build five new homes, a church and a school.

In faith, we kicked of the "Strength for Today, Hope for Tomorrow" campaign.​

​The Prek Eng Campus on June 27, 2012

​The Prek Eng Campus on June 27, 2012

Less than one year later, that piece of land has been transformed, and is well on its way to becoming a beautiful, neighborhood-style campus, home to 125 orphaned children now in our care and countless more over future generations!

By August 2013, we expect to have completed the church, the school and four of the five homes. We pray that God will provide the funding for the fifth before we cut the ribbon for the campus on August 3!​

Will you join me in this journey? Bookmark this blog. Join us on Facebook or Twitter.​ Share these links with your friends! I promise lots of great pictures and stories and exciting reports of God's faithfulness.

​And perhaps most importantly, will you prayerfully consider making a generous contribution to this campaign or to one of our other initiatives?

We still need to raise more than $100,000 to complete construction and outfit this campus. We need you to participate with us.

​This is going to be one of the most exciting journeys we've ever taken. Join us!

Picnics and playgrounds

About two hours into the loud and lively service at Trinity Grace Church, it was time for me to preach the sermon. Due to the lengthy of the proceedings, I inflicted upon the congregants only a very short homily on the prophet Jonah.

A year ago, when I first visited the church, the congregation was about 20% smaller. Thanks to the addition of the kids from our Kalimpong 2 home, the already-cramped church is now packed to beyond what I would consider capacity. When Kalimpong 3 comes online, they will either have to stack the kids like firewood or find a bigger space.

After church we walked about half a mile down to a small municipal playground for a few hours of rough-and-tumble fun and a very simple picnic lunch of jam sandwiches and cookies. It’s amazing to see the kids playing together, helping each other and just soaking in the benefits of a real, loving family.

All the kids enjoyed the playground in Kalimpong

All the kids enjoyed the playground in Kalimpong

There’s a clear difference between the two homes. The kids from Kalimpong 1 are older, more confident, better adjusted and more completely individuated than those at KP2. The new kids are smaller, less-well nourished and a lot squirrelier. It’s hard to tell them apart from each other, as they all share a certain shell shock that I’ve seen many times before in Cambodia and Thailand, and that will fade over the next few months as they settle in.

Watching the newest kids – especially the “provisional” ones who will eventually call Kalimpong 3 home – you can get a bit of a sense of the struggle these children had and the poverty and hunger they experienced until very recently. When it’s time to play, they don’t really know what to do. But when it’s time to eat, they pack it away like it’s their last meal on the planet. Up to a few weeks ago, a good meal never came with a promise for more tonight, tomorrow and the next day.

The Kalimpong 2 kids know how to put away the food.

The Kalimpong 2 kids know how to put away the food.

This morning we packed the kids into a bus and drove down the mountain into the valley, where we had been promised a river-side field trip and picnic. Technically, we were at a river, but the entire site was a construction zone. There were no picnic tables, but there were huge, garishly decorated trucks rumbling in empty and out with loads of rocks. There was also a lot of heavy construction equipment – excavators, bulldozers, rock crushers. Not exactly the most serene setting for picnic, but we made do. There was a large swimming pool, but it was empty. No problem, though, as many of the kids used it for Simon Says and Red-Light-Green-Light.

A beautiful, but rugged picnic site.

A beautiful, but rugged picnic site.

The staff set up a mobile kitchen and began cooking a delicious meal over campfires, and a bunch of the kids headed down to the river to swim. All of the kids below the age of five stripped down to their birthday suits and jumped right in. We all concluded quickly that this was better left un-photographed, and we left the kids to their skinny dipping.

We spent the better part of the day with the kids, which is good. Tomorrow we’re leaving for three days to visit other parts of the country and another undisclosed location, and I’m going to miss all of them terribly. I have lots of good pictures, but not lots of good internet, so the photos will have to wait.

Please pray for our safety and health as we continue to do our best to encourage the kids and staff of Asia’s Hope and our brothers and sisters in North India and beyond.

John McCollumComment
Victory Prayer Church and Social Welfare Society. And mountains.

[due to slow internet upload speeds, the photos associated with this article will have to wait for another day. sigh.]

We have returned to the Silver Oaks Hotel, some of Kalimpong’s finest lodgings, and we still have no wifi. We are indeed pampered westerners, and we stress out about the silliest things. Like internet access. We’re gutting it out though, and if you’re reading this, it’s probably because we have gone to the Asia’s Hope India office to use the internet there.

We spent only one night away from Kalimpong, but it seems like, I don’t know. A week? We left early yesterday morning and headed out towards Darjeeling, winding our way down the mountain toward the emerald green Teesta River, which snakes through the foothills of the Himalayas, carrying water from the melting snowcaps at the top of the world to untold millions of Indian villagers living along and uphill from its banks.

We spent half a day with the 50-some Nepali-speaking students studying at the Victory Prayer Church and Social Welfare Society. Many of these students traveled for days from all over North India, Bhutan, Nepal and Bangladesh by train, car, foot and even horseback to participate in a 40-day seminar in basic theology and missiology. The lessons learned during this intensive course will travel with the graduates into remote areas, some of which are extraordinarily hostile to the Christian faith. Some of these students will face imprisonment, torture and even death as they return to places like rural Bhutan, where despite the PR campaign marketing the country as the “happiest nation on earth,” Christians are persecuted daily for gathering together to sing, pray and teach.

When Pastor Nandu asked me to speak to the students (first for three hours – I bargained it down to 45 minutes), I protested heartily, albeit in vain: I have two cars and a flat screen TV, and I basically send emails and take lunches for a living. What could I possibly have to teach these guys, future heroes of the faith? In the end, it didn’t matter. I muddled through a half-baked lecture on moral transparency in leadership, and reminded the students, “Never trust a leader who doesn’t walk with a limp.” Pastor Victor, the founder and head instructor assured us, “It is your presence here that matters. Our students feel so encouraged to know that they have brothers and sisters who care for them and pray for them.” I sure hope so, and I will keep those guys in my thoughts and prayers for a very long time.

After a very generous lunch that could probably be considered a banquet, we loaded back into our jeeps and headed up, up, up to Darjeeling. Round and round we went at impossibly steep angles through blind hairpin curves carved by unimaginable brute force into the sides of mountains, cutting through vast tea plantations and tiny villages. About when we began to despair of ever reaching our destination, we arrived in chilly Darjeeling, India’s legendary northernmost railhead, where generations of British bureaucrats escaped the brutal summer heat of India’s lowlands.

Darjeeling is crowded, noisy and is as shabby as a chimney sweep. It’s also unbelievably beautiful. As in much of the area in which we work, there is no “grid.” Buildings on adjacent streets stack vertically, with back doors overlooking neighbors’ roofs. Each restaurant seems to offer a more splendid view than its neighbor. Unfortunately, it’s been quite hazy throughout our entire trip. We can see only as far as the nearest three or four mountaintops, but not beyond to the real peaks. Last night, however, as we were drinking tea on a rooftop in downtown Darjeeling Greg exclaimed, “Are those the Himalayas?” We all turned to look to the north, and met an extraordinary sight. As the sun began to set, the snow-capped peaks of the world’s highest mountain range reflected pink and orange in the distance where only a few moments before, there was nothing but clouds and fog.

The pictures we took can’t begin to capture the majesty of the vista. To little avail, I adjusted the various dials on my camera and struggled to reflect in my viewfinder the rapturous scene that lay on the horizon. After a few clicks, I put the camera down and simply basked in the glory of the moment.

[Okay. Gut check here. I am embarrassed about the flowery and admittedly maudlin prose. But if I don’t gush over this, I can’t imagine what on earth would stir me to profusion.]

No sooner than it had appeared, the Himalayan panorama faded with the shifting light and the team was left to bask in the afterglow, sighing over our tea and wishing for just one more glimpse.

It rained last night for the first time in months, offering us this morning the briefest of views of the Himalayas on our walk into town. Once again our cameras struggled to capture even a shadow of the grandeur before the great jagged mountains faded to white. Despite the change in weather, we have not seen them since.

I’m so glad that Sam got a chance to see the peaks this morning before departing for Siliguri and then back home. The rest of us will stay for another week, spending as much time as possible with our kids before hitting Delhi en route to Columbus.

I’ve spent so much time talking about the mountains that I haven’t really been able to share about the amazing things God is doing here through our ministry. Maybe soon I’ll talk about kids, land and future plans. Right now I need to meet the team for dinner. I’m guessing something with curry…

John McCollum Comment
Up to the mountain

“Some days I look down, afraid I will fall” – Patty Griffin

It’s about 5:30 a.m. I slept quite poorly last night. Maybe it’s because, for the second night in a row I’ve had complicated and spirited discussions on finances, philosophy and future plans late into the evening. Maybe it’s the fact that I have a big day in front of me visiting possible sites for land purchases in and around Kalimpong and beginning discussions of price negotiations and fundraising strategy.

It’s also possible that I’m a little stressed about the revelation that, tomorrow, I will be speaking for a couple of hours at an Indian seminary and I really have nothing prepared and feel ill-qualified to teach anything to a bunch of guys who rely completely on God for their daily bread and risk their lives sharing the gospel under the threat of torture or death in places like Bhutan.

Just as likely, I’m still a bit delirious from yesterday’s time with the kids. My back is killing me from careening down a mountainside yesterday stuffed in a jeep with 20 singing and laughing kids, and my face hurts from smiling so much.

After a delicious breakfast of an omelet, masala chai, potato curry and fried parathas, we walked from the hotel to Nandu’s house, which is also the temporary home for Kalimpong 2, and we were greeted by all 50 kids of KP1 and KP2, our staff and (also probably adding to my sleeplessness) a number of kids who are “provisionally in our care as prospective children for [the yet-to-be-funded, yet-to-exist] Kalimpong 3.”

After an hour of songs, another hour or two of games and a quick lunch prepared by the staff, we folded ourselves into the aforementioned jeeps and endured about 30 minutes of bumper-to-bumper traffic in Kalimpong followed by another half hour or so of the steepest, most treacherous switchbacks imaginable on a narrow, crumbling mountainside road with no guardrails separated from a fatal, thousand-foot plunge by a six-inch wide strip of gravel and weeds. Nandu assured us that “these are the good roads” and that cars only “sometimes” fall off the mountain.

I wish I could have taken pictures or video that would do this journey justice, but the car was jostling and swerving the entire time, and even at 1/1000 exposure, my camera would not focus and I couldn’t capture anything better than a blur.

At the top of the mountain, however, was an oasis of tranquilty, a park that on a clear day offers views all the way out to China. We spent the entire afternoon playing cricket, soccer, volleyball, tag, Simon Says and whatever else the kids could think of. At one point, I think I was playing three sports simultaneously – none of them well.

With all of the kids together, it was easy to see which ones had been with us for only a few days. The Kalimpong 2 kids, along with the “prospective” children didn’t understand any of the games, but they did their best. Some ran around from game to game laughing and shouting, others found a staff member or one of our team and attached themselves to their side, shyly watching the proceedings from a safe distance. All, however, experienced the blessing of God through love of a family.

I was moved more than once to the brink of tears as I thought about the journeys that brought these children into our care, journeys far more perilous than our little jeep ride up the mountain. Nearly all of these kids have seen one or both parents die. All have been abandoned. All have faced hunger and fear. Many were abused. Some even tortured. But yesterday, they played Simon Says and enjoyed tea and cookies at a park in the foothills of the Himalayas. And last night, they had dinner, sang bedtime songs, said prayers and were tucked into warm beds by parents who love them, and who will be there for them with a hot breakfast and a hug in the morning.

This, my friends, is the Kingdom of God. This is what it is all about. This is what “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” means. This is true religion.

I wish with all of my heart that each of you could experience this. I believe that I could just transport every pastor I know, every business owner I’ve ever met, every one of my friends here for just one day we would never lack funds for another project, and we’d be singing up partnering churches and opening children’s homes so quickly we would lose count of the hundreds – perhaps thousands – of children being admitted into new, loving families every year in India, in Cambodia, in Thailand and beyond.

For those of you who already support the kids and staff of Asia’s Hope with your prayers,  finances and influence, I owe you a debt of gratitude that I can never repay. For those of you who aren’t yet involved, I’m glad you’re reading along, and I pray that my pictures and stories have encouraged you, and that God is moving your heart toward a life of dedication to the poor and orphaned, whether it’s with Asia’s Hope or with one of the myriad other great organizations working all around the world.

May God bless you as he has blessed me, my family, my staff and kids.

John McCollumComment