water

Nenana, my almost-three-year-old friend, often looks up at me and says, "Massum water." I know this translates to "I want some water," and I get her some.

Our bodies are 60% water. We need it to survive. And yet it's possible to take even a necessity for granted.

Until it's gone.

For 3 days last week, we had no running water in our house. We weren't the only ones. The only places in the city that did have water were the ones that had their own wells or tanks. Actually, our house recently got a tank too. It even has a pump. But the pump doesn't have access to electricity, so the water can't make it from the front patio to the house.

We keep water in basins in the bathrooms and kitchens, since this happens not infrequently. It took about 24 hours for us to use up the reserves. Still the pipes were empty.

I never realized before how often and how much we need water! Cooking, cleaning, bathing, flushing the toilet, washing hands, doing laundry. Without water, life is more complicated and stinkier. We had to use hand sanitizer, pile our dirty dishes in the sink, and shower at the office.

Thankfully, we did have plenty of drinking water. We buy that in jugs. But the lack of water for everything else reminded me that it is possible to be without good drinking water as well. Much of the world lives constantly in this dangerous predicament. And how much more acutely it must be felt in places hot enough to triple a person's daily hydration requirement. In fact, as I write this it's 94 degrees and I'm sweating. I just had to get myself a glass of water.

Perhaps it is not surprising that my week has brought some questions to mind.

Is my soul truly as thirsty for God as my body is for water?

The Psalmist says, "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?" (Psalm 42:1-2)

And if I resonate with the Psalmist, do I take Jesus up on his response?

"On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink.'" (John 7:37)

And if I drink, am I content with my own satisfaction, or do I share it?

Jesus goes on to say, "'Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.'" (John 7:38)

Think of that! Rivers of living water. From him, through me, to others. And he never runs out.

Yesterday, I joined a truck load of friends for a trip to some waterfalls nearby. What a contrast to the empty pipes at home. I want my life to look like that.

Massum water, Lord Jesus!

stressed

I have a confession to make. I am getting stressed out about food.

I have this irrational fear that when it comes time for a meal, I won't have anything to eat.

At the risk of overanalyzing, I think this is because...

1. If I go to a restaurant, I can't communicate what I want. This is because I usually don't know what the options are since most menus don't have English. Even if I can figure out the options, I don't know how to say which one I want. You might think that a pictorial menu would solve this problem. However, once when I pointed to a soup on menu of this variety, three separate waitresses came to the table to ask me if I was sure I really wanted that dish. I was unmoved, and I later regretted it. It was super spicy and didn't fill me up at all.

2. If I eat at home, I have to think of what I'm going to make, shop for the ingredients, and assemble them successfully. This was often challenging even in my home country on familiar grocery-store and kitchen-utensil territory. Here it is more complicated. Grocery shopping involves a sweaty bike ride, at least two shops and their keepers, identifying foods that are less than self-explanatory, and bumbling through bargaining and purchases with no functional Thai or Burmese language skills. And then I come home to attempt food preparation in my kitchen, which until recently did not include an oven, mixing bowl, seasonings, or plates.

When I accomplish a delicious, inexpensive, healthy meal using either of these methods, I am so relieved. Then I remember that another meal is always on the horizon. And the stress-o-meter starts going up again.

(A caveat - breakfasts are easy, and I usually order lunch at the office on a menu that includes English.)

I was talking with a friend the other day, and I actually said the words, "I am worried about what I will eat." Matthew 6:25-27 flashed through my brain. I was arrested. Jesus has specifically told me not to worry about whether I'm going to eat. I have always had food, so I have brushed past his words, assuming they didn't apply to me. But these verses are not about whether or not I have food to eat; they are about whether or not I have worry in my heart. And I do.

It is marvelous to be thrown on God's mercy, to recognize that I need him in the most elemental way, to rely on him consciously, and to see him provide. My heavenly Father knows my needs. He knows that I need to eat, and that in order to eat in Thailand I really need his help! What an unexpected adventure in trust.

And here is the thing. In spite of my worry, I have not gone without a single meal. I have eaten rather like a queen actually - green papaya salad, banana flower with pasta, tofu cilantro curry, pumpkin lemongrass curry, taco chicken pizza, cinnamon rolls, oreo milkshakes, and plenty of pad thai. I could go on! What a twisted thing it is to doubt the Giver of such lavish gifts. I should be overflowing with gratefulness. And running after his kingdom instead of my next meal.

"So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." (Matt 6:31-33)

the list

I sat down with Mary the other day to make a list. I asked her, "What do we need to buy for our house?" She and Jean and I will be living together for a year. Our house is unfurnished, so we are starting from scratch.

Some things on our cooperative list made sense to both of us: plates, refrigerator, fans.

Other things made less sense. Initially.

I suggested we buy a water pitcher. Mary said, "What for?" I explained. Turns out she is used to using water bottles, and in the end they do work better for cool water because the pitcher doesn't fit in the fridge. We do still use the water pitcher though. It's a handy intermediate for pouring water into glasses since the big water jug is awkward and heavy.

Mary suggested we buy kitchen shoes. I said, "What for?" She explained that it's best to put something on our feet while we cook because of all the grease and water on the floor. I wondered out loud if there needed to be grease and water on the floor. Apparently there does. Now I have kitchen shoes.

I thought we needed a stove. Mary and Jean can manage nicely using just a rice cooker and a plug-in wok. We got a stove anyway, mostly for my sake. But Mary and Jean like it too.

Mary thought we needed big water basins for the bathroom. I didn't understand until I realized that water only comes out of our taps about half the time, so the basins are a very necessary backup supply.

I bought a spatula and a whisk. Mary bought a mortar and pestle. I bought toilet paper. Mary bought dipper buckets with handles.

And so the learning begins.

Here we are having a moving-into-our-house thanksgiving dinner with friends. Mary and Jean are on the left.