Thankful for so much.
thankful.jpg

As I look forward to the Thanksgiving holiday and the beginning of the Christmas season, my heart is overflowing. It’s been another year full of celebrations and loss, of tragic passings and exhilarating new beginnings. All of us at Asia’s Hope have been inspired by your generosity, your courageous leadership and your prayers of support.

I wanted to take a moment to share some of the things that I’m especially thankful as I reflect upon this day set aside for gratitude.

God’s extravagant favor

Growing up, I believed that God was a harsh gatekeeper, looking for flaws and shortcomings to disqualify imperfect people from service in his Kingdom. But the last 16 years of ministry have shown me that God is actively pursuing flawed, under-qualified people like me to use for his glory and for the good of those he loves. I’m so thankful that God chose people like me — and like you — to act on his behalf to rescue and restore these kids.

Our leaders in Asia

When people introduce me saying, “John runs this amazing ministry called Asia’s Hope,” I have to laugh a little bit. I’ll own up to “stewarding” it, or maybe even “steering” it, but I can’t claim to run it. Nothing — and I mean nothing — would run at Asia’s Hope without the wise leadership and hard work of our country directors: Savorn Ou in Cambodia, Tutu Abourmad in Thailand, Amber Gurung and Sunil Tamang in India. It is an honor to serve with them.

Our home parents and caregivers

Asia’s Hope could not exist without the home parents and caregivers at our 34 children’s homes. Their job is so much harder than mine — they’re on the clock 24 hours a day, every day of the year. They have opened their hearts and homes to the 800 kids in our care, and have become real moms and dads, aunts and uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers to these children, revoking the curse of orphanhood and repealing the sentence of poverty and despair that would have otherwise doomed these precious kids. May God fill each of these dear servants with his wisdom and strength.

Our board and executive staff

Led by our board members — Glenn Kelly, Ron Biddle, Sam Cobb, Adam Heath, Sherrod Fields, Keith Wong and John Campbell — our tiny executive staff punches far above its weight. With just four people in the home office — me, Administrator Carol Wardell, Project Manager Addison Smith and Administrative Assistant Satian Preamjaisanchat — we manage a project portfolio as complex as that of organizations with five to ten times our administrative resources. I’m thankful for and inspired by the tireless efforts of our board and executive staff.

Our partners and supporters

Some organizations employ a staff of fundraisers and even hire professional consulting firms to generate the significant resources required to do this difficult and often expensive work. At Asia’s Hope, we don’t have a “development staff.” We have you. We have partners — churches, businesses and family foundations who commit to the hard work of funding significant, long-term projects. And we have individual donors who have dug deep and given generously so we can sustain and grow our ministry to some of the world’s most vulnerable kids. I’m humbled by the opportunity to help you invest your hard-earned money in God’s Kingdom, and I’m thankful to you and to God that we’ve seen such a bountiful return on that investment.

So as I look back over the past few months with gratitude and toward the next with anticipation, I’m thankful for the opportunity to work with some of the kindest, most generous people in the world.

May God bless you and your family during this season of thanksgiving.

John McCollumComment
Marshmallows and Tea — and Popsicles, Too.

Late night marshmallows and tea with friends under a cabana at our Doi Saket 3 home in Thailand.

For the last few nights, our plan to visit our children's homes have been scuttled by heavy rain. And I mean really heavy rain, like those Florida pop-up storms that deliver buckets and then depart as quickly as they arrived. Except these rains kept pouring for hours and hours. The front yards of the homes we were trying to visit were quite flooded.

So last night, we made a contingency plan. We stopped at Toys R Us and picked up some card games, Jenga and Matchbox cars, and invited the kids to come to our guesthouse. Rain or shine, we were covered. No rain, we'd go swimming. Rain, we'd play inside. We ended up getting only a light sprinkle, and splitting into two groups. One group — mostly older girls — decided to hang out with Kori and Xiudan and play. The rest came out with me and swam.

We had a great time, although I may have over-exerted myself. Two-and-a-half hours of pulling kids around a pool in an innertube expends energy in a way that only shows up later, like the next morning. I'm a little stiff today, but I guess I never learn, as we're planning to do the same thing again this afternoon.

At about 8pm, after the kids had returned home and finished dinner and a little homework, we walked over to our Doi Saket 3 and 4 homes (they share a single piece of land), and we sat under a cabana and drank tea. We also brought a few bags of marshmallows, which most of the kids had never seen before. We chatted with translation help from Tutu and, when she was occupied, Google. It was really a memorable evening, and left me longing for that kind of interaction with friends at home. Now all I need is to build a cabana.

Today is Saturday, and is full. We spent the morning at Doi Saket 1, playing badminton and card games with the kids from the four homes there. We ate our fill of homemade popsicles, and grabbed a quick lunch in town with Tutu. Now we're taking a very quick break. I'm going to edit some photos, Kori and Pak are working on college loan paperwork and Xiudan is watching YouTube. If I was smart, I'd take a quick nap.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm expected to preach, but I still have no idea what I am going to say. I'll let you know how it goes after...

Transition to Thailand

Long gone are the days when I could come to Cambodia, Thailand or India and just spend endless hours with each home, returning day after day and forging deep connections with each of the kids and staff.

With 32 homes, 200+ staff and more than 800 kids, I'm lucky if I can get a whole evening in one place, and I spend the majority of my energy encouraging and strategizing with our senior staff and collecting stories to tell throughout the next year.

But we have had some really sweet times the last few days, times that have felt intimate, though fleeting.

We arrived on Saturday, and had a really nice time worshipping with some of the kids and staff on Sunday morning. Our church building is being renovated, so we gathered only about 1/3 of the kids living at our seven Doi Saket-area homes. It's so nice to see kids realizing and exercising their leadership potential. They're singing, teaching, writing songs; as I've told them so many times before, they're not the church of tomorrow. They're leaders today.

We enjoyed a delicious lunch of Khao Soi (pictures of that at some later date) at my favorite little restaurant in the world. I ate two bowls — about half a bowl too many — and earned a short nap to sleep off my culinary conquest.

In the late afternoon, we visited our Doi Saket 1 campus, where we have four homes, our church and — thanks to the generosity of some donors from Florida — a beautiful new soccer field that our kids have been waiting to enjoy for almost a year and a half. The grass is now strong enough to survive the rigors of play, and my sons joined a group of the older boys and staff for about three hours of vigorous competition.

After watching them play for about a half hour or so, I joined the rest of our team in volleyball, takraw, monkey-in-the-middle and various other leisure pursuits. We laughed, we sang songs, we ran around, we ate mangos and finally as dusk settled in and the kids returned to their houses to get ready for bed, we reluctantly said goodbye and returned home ourselves.

On Monday, we headed up to Wiang Pa Pao, the site of two existing homes and, God willing, seven or eight new homes over the next five to ten years. I can't wait to share those plans when I get back. It's going to take a lot of work, but it's going to be absolutely transformational, not just for the lives of the individual kids we rescue, but for the entire local community.

Today our Indian directors will be heading home. On Friday, our son Chien will be on his way as well. It's been great having them here, and our trip will definitely feel different without them. We're game, though, and will enjoy every stage of this journey.

Today we're headed into Chiang Mai for a little shopping and some tourist activities. Tonight we're hoping to visit our Doi Saket 2 home — we wanted to go last night, but torrential rains prevented it. Here's hoping for a dry evening and more family time.

Beautiful church service in Doi Saket.

A relaxing evening — mangos, tea, soccer and laughter — at the Doi Saket 1 homes.

Barbecue and family fun at Wiang Pa Pao

John McCollumComment
Wrapping up our Cambodia trip

Well, our time in Cambodia is complete. My family and I will be leaving our hotel in Siem Reap and heading for the airport in just under a half hour. We're bringing Amber and Sunil — our Indian co-directors — and their wives with us to Thailand, where we'll spend time with our Thai staff and kids before heading back to the States.

I've been doing a decent job of keeping current with emails and in-person meetings, and I've kept our Instagram feed populated, but my blog posts have been few and far between. It seems that every day is packed full from stem to stern, and I usually have three or four hours of work to do after everyone else has gone to bed. Unfortunately, that means that there are a lot of pictures and stories I'd love to share that I may not get around to, at least not in this forum.

I wish I'd had more time to focus on communicating the needs at our secondary school in Battambang, Cambodia. That's something I'll be hitting on repeatedly between now and the end of the year. We urgently need to find long-term supporters for that project. It is essential to our work, but it's expensive for our little organization to keep the doors open. Please join me in prayers for that initiative. 

I do hope that if you've been reading my posts here or following on one of our other social media platforms you have gotten a sense of use what kind of ministry we are and what joining with us could mean for you. Please continue to pray for our time in Thailand. God is moving in and through Asia's Hope. 

If the admittedly marginal internet connection here will allow it, I'll post a few albums of pics from my Cambodia trip. Some of them I've posted before, some are new...

Our trip to Cambodia and arrival in Siem Reap.

Our amazing day exploring the temples of Angkor.

Family time with the kids and staff in Prek Eng.

An evening at the fights in Phnom Penh.

Wonderful times in Battambang.

John McCollumComment
Dancing in the streets

Sundays are always fun at Asia's Hope. This one had us dancing in the streets. 

The morning started at Hope Fellowship, our church in Battambang. With more than 400 attenders, this counts as something of a megachurch in Cambodia. We kicked off the service with a few congregational worship songs, and followed them with performances from three different groups of our kids. I sang one song, and then I preached a message from Romans.

I love worshipping with the Asia's Hope staff and kids, and this time was extra special, because I was joined by my family, Carol's family (Carol is the administrator for Asia's Hope's main office in Ohio), Addison (our project manager) and the co-directors of Asia's Hope India, Amber and Sunil and their wives. It's probably unwise for us all to be in the same place at the same time; if a meteor struck, Asia's Hope would be set back significantly by the loss of executive personnel.

_DSC5813.jpg

After the service, we stopped to take a group picture at each of our 13 homes. Even at a quick pace, it took us more than an hour. We had a delicious lunch together with Savorn at a local Indian restaurant, and returned to our hotel for a brief rest.

Late afternoon, we headed out for a dedication party at the brand new University Student Center, home to 25 young scholars who grew up at Asia's Hope in Battambang. I've known most of these kids since they were quite young, so it's a real kick to see them living more independently and thriving in their studies. We've been blessed with a beautiful — and affordable — facility for these kids, and they all seem to love it there. Next year, we're adding 10 more students to the center, and will probably have to open a second one within the next couple of years.

This center — and the one like it in Phnom Penh — are key elements of our strategy to transition our kids to independent adulthood and to raise up a new generation of educated, hardworking and responsible leaders for Asia's Hope's and Cambodia's future. We're working now to develop funding and operational strategies that I'll be talking a lot about in the coming weeks and months.

We hired caterers for the party, and enjoyed a dinner of beef (roasted whole on a spit), noodles, Cambodian sour soup, and fresh fruits. After the meal, we danced. For hours, it seems. And I know I've said this before, but I'm always so impressed with the difference between Asia's Hope dances and the ones I've attended (or chaperoned) in the States. These parties are wholesome, inclusive and joyful. It's so much fun to join our kids in cutting loose, laughing and dancing without judgment or self-consciousness.

Our day was not completely without its sorrows. Addison had to cancel his trip and leave suddenly — just a day after arriving in Cambodia — due to an unexpected and serious illness in his family. And Punam, the wife of Pastor Sunil, found out that her sister had died quite quickly after a short battle with cancer. As always, around here, tragedy and celebration are mixed together, drunk often in the same cup. So please pray for Addison's and Punam's families. Punam has decided to stay on and finish her trip. I hope that spending time with these kids and staff who have themselves lost parents, siblings and children will be deeply comforting.

John McCollumComment
Reflections after driving across a changing country
_DSC4920.jpg

It's Friday morning, and I'm finally feeling human after emerging from some monster cold/sinus infection/bronchitis thing that really dampened my ability to enjoy and engage much of anyone for about a week. I felt so lousy on Wednesday that I delayed my departure for Battambang by 24 hours. I stayed in bed most of the day and I think that was key to my recovery.

Yesterday morning my family checked out of our hotel in Phnom Penh, loaded into our borrowed van and made the five hour drive to Battambang, Cambodia's second-largest city. When I first visited Cambodia about 18 years ago, that drive would have taken something like 20 hours. The roads were often unpassable; the adjacent rice paddies were studded landmines, which are reported to be uncomfortable for vehicles and their occupants.

So for the first few years we flew into the city on rickety, reconditioned Aeroflot prop planes that burped and shuddered before landing with objectionable thuds and clanks on a single strip airfield, delivering us to a sweltering quonset hut where we rescued our terrified luggage and fled via taxi to the barely-air-conditioned and now defunct Te.O Hotel. Ah, the Te.O, with its questionable little restaurant, favored by drunken Cambodian military officials, presumably for its large stock of Johnny Walker Red and signature dishes like "Salad Bin Laden" and "Beef Tongue On Fire."

A few years later, the government had grudgingly improved Highway 5 to the point where a trip by car was manageable within, say, 9 hours. Sure, significant stretches of the road were unpaved and could have been improved by some light carpet bombing, but for teams of more than four or five people, driving represented a significant cost — and potential life — savings over flying.

Yesterday I made the trip in just under five hours. The entire way is paved, and it is now possible to find multiple rest stops with above-ground toilets. The city of Phnom Penh seems to stretch about an hour further into the former countryside, and the outskirts of Battambang extend far beyond its famous statue, which once marked the furthest boundary between semi-urban and really-rural. We've since upgraded our hotel, and can now choose from well over a dozen really good restaurants.

This morning I'm sitting on the second-floor balcony of the Kinyei Cafe, enjoying a perfectly-made small flat white with an extra shot of espresso. Kinyei is owned by my friends Marc and Jose, who also own Phnom Penh's Feel Good cafes and roasters. It sits at the quiet end of Street 1-1/2, adjacent to a couple Colonial-era shophouses that, to the utter bafflement of my Cambodian staff, I fantasize about purchasing, rehabbing and turning into a retirement home cum AirBnB. Most locals prefer the glitzier Starbucks-style "Brown Coffee" franchise stores and new-build condos, but I'm a sucker for the wood shutters, faded stucco and exposeable brick of the century-old buildings that probably indicate some latent Orientalist exotification bias. For that, I'm profoundly sorry-not-sorry. You can take the boy out of America, but...

Anyway, after checking into our hotel, we took a short rest and then headed out to visit our Battambang campus. It too has changed over the past few years. A lot. I remember when we first purchased the original parcel of land. It was out in the middle of the country, flanked by nothing but farmland. Even after adding our first few homes, arriving at Asia's Hope was something like discovering the Others' settlement in the TV series Lost — a tiny community thriving surprisingly in the middle of nowhere.

It's now on its way to being in something like the center of Battambang proper. We've since bought up all the available abutting plots, and have filled them with 13 homes, a church, a vocational training center, a middle and high school and one of the best soccer fields in the city. The surrounding land has all been purchased by developers, and is slated for condos, shops and God-knows-whatelse. Our campus remains, however, an oasis of joy and even tranquility in an otherwise chaotic hurly-burly of rapid economic and demographic expansion. There, kids whose parents died, abandoned them or simply turned up missing have found new life, new hope and new families. They tend gardens, play sports, learn musical instruments, attend schools and enjoy delicious meals cooked for them by dedicated parents who know their names, and tend to their emotional and spiritual traumas with a patience born of their own healing and deliverance from childhoods marred by genocide, civil war and life in refugee camps.

One thing that hasn't been radically transformed in Battambang over the last couple of years seems to be my ability to get a decent internet connection, so my posts may be a bit sparse. But I'll try to make up for that by uploading some big galleries when we get to Thailand next week.

 

John McCollumComment
Sweet family times

The combination of a busy schedule and an awful cold have left me a couple days behind on blogging. A picture being worth a thousand words, this post will be about 100,000 words long. 

We've enjoyed some really sweet family times over the last couple of days: a meal with the Asia's Hope Prek Eng home parents at a riverside cabana, a late night snack party at our university student center, lunch after church prepared lovingly by our staff and a few rounds of kickboxing (watching, not competing) with some of our high school and college-age boys.

All these are pictured below. Enjoy.




John McCollumComment
"Then young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well."
_DSC2285.jpg

They will be like a well-watered garden, and they will sorrow no more. Then young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. — Jeremiah 31:12–13

After a couple hours of heavy rain, the clouds parted just in time for an outdoor banquet paid for by our friends at Vineyard Columbus. We joined the Vineyard team, the staff and kids from Prek Eng 6 — the home Vineyard Columbus sponsors — and the staff and kids from the five other local Asia's Hope homes. As the children cleared the plates away, the older kids on DJ duty cranked up the tunes. Like all Cambodian dance parties, we started slowly, walking in a circle waving our arms in varying degrees of artistic and technical proficiency.

As God turned down the lights in the sky, the Asia's Hope kids turned up the volume on the loudspeakers. The playground-cum-dance floor filled with eager participants, festooned with glowstick necklaces and and emblazoned with smiles. The party hit its crescendo about two hours in: old women, toddlers, teens and kids of all sizes laughing, jumping, wiggling and waving to the joyous sounds of Cambodian dance pop played at a volume better measured by a seismograph than a decibel meter.

I danced, I shot some photos, I rested and then I danced some more. And you'd have to be here to really understand what a profoundly and pervasively positive experience this was for all who attended. Unlike every party I ever attended growing up in Columbus, Ohio, nobody was left out. No one was being bullied. No one was trying to get away with anything naughty. No one had to be reminded to keep their hands in proper places or "leave room for the Holy Spirit." No one left early to cry behind the building.

This is a good place. God is here. He is smiling on us. And we are dancing in his light.

John McCollumComment