750 Words

I have some strengths and I have some weaknesses. I would say that I have an average amount of both. I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on things that I am good at and things that I am not so great at. One of the things I’m not great at is being consistent with my writing. A point in case, look at my entries on this blog. They go back quite a way and yet, they aren’t super consistent! I have accepted this, but it is also something that I want to work on changing. Which is why I have some really exciting news. Just a few days ago I passed the mark of having written 100,000 words on my personal online journal! That feels like a really big landmark until you see that I have been a member since mid-2016. But! I am currently on a 31-day writing streak! That is the most exciting part of this for me. I don’t know how long this streak will last, but I am really trying to keep it up.

Bragging about me working on my weaknesses wasn’t the entire purpose of me writing this blog entry. I wanted to share with you the website I use. I really really really love it. I am going to share some screen captures to explain why I like it so much.

7     1) 750words.com. It is online, but it is private. You have options to share it, but I never have, and I don’t plan on ever sharing. It costs $5 a month, which isn’t free, but for me, it’s worth it!

2     2) I can type a lot faster than I can write. I know that writing by hand is better than typing, but for now, this method is getting me to do the work. Maybe at some point I will migrate to pen and paper, but for now this is helping me to be consistent.

3        3) I use this website to do stream of consciousness writing. Whatever is on my mind, or going through my brain, comes out. And that, for me, is really beneficial. Sometimes I don’t realize what I am thinking until I’ve written it, or really spent some time meditating, so this provides a daily natural way to keep my thoughts in my awareness.

Now, for those screenshots.

Some things here to notice: It keeps a monthly log of how many words and days I’ve completed. (I went back and captured the 24^th of April – the day I crossed 100,000 words – that’s why it says I’ve completed 28 days even though it’s the 24^th of April). You get fun little badges when you accomplish things. Most recently I earned the 100,000 word badge (three birds), and the 30 in a row (maybe that’s an albatross?)! Fun little gamey things.

It graphs your typing. You can see on this graph, that at around 9 minutes I either took a little break or was trying to figure out where to go with my thoughts. The same at 11 minutes, 16, 19, and 23. But, it took me 25 minutes, with an overall average of 30 words per minute. It keeps track of your distractions (breaks over 3 minutes), and it doesn’t save, let you be done with that day until you’ve crossed the 750-word mark. You can see that I got 755 words that day.

You can see it keeps track of your total word count. It tells you your record for fasted entry. That day where I did it in 7 minutes, I was in a hurry and copied and pasted in a blog I was working on and typed a few more quick thoughts. I average around 19-24 minutes. My word record (for one day) is 846 – not sure what I was worked up about THAT day! Then it tells you how many days you’ve done overall, and your longest streak. I am proud of both of those numbers!

I love this part. First, Mom, there was no swearing, so I got a “G” rating. Phew. But, it then tells you what your writing was about that day. As you can see here, I was mostly sad and mostly concerned about eating and drinking. You know what? I think this was on the day that I was feeling upset that Thailand banned all alcohol sales through the end of the month!   ; )   But you can see by both pie charts that it keeps track of all the emotions and topics in your writing. I don’t always find this 100% accurate. It uses metadata and so if you type the word, “happy” it will assume that you are happy. But, maybe you were being sarcastic and saying, “I am sooooo happy that I have to wear facemasks everywhere I go!” It doesn’t get that. So, not 100% accurate. But, I still find this very valuable as a reflection tool going forward.

I really like these graphs too. Introverted or Extraverted, Positive or Negative, Uncertain or Certain, and Thinking or Feeling? And then, your time orientation, primary sense, and Us and Them. I don’t use that bottom row as much, other than the time orientation (helps me to know if I’m dwelling behind or getting too far ahead of myself).

So, there you have it! You can try it for free for 30 days. If you love it, then you can join after those 30 days. I highly recommend it!

The F Word

An unrelated picture of a rice field in Chiang Rai, Thailand

 "Schweeeet! That is Schweet! Everything is Schweet!" I used to say that. I don't remember where I picked it up, or how long I said it for, but I remember I thought it, and I, were so cool. Instead of "sweet," which normies say, I would add the “sch” sound, "schweet." It had a ring to it that I really loved. I'm actually a little embarrassed by that now. But, since I work with teenagers all the time, I recognize it as totally normal, and weird, teenage behavior.

I don't know when I stopped saying it. I don't remember if I purposely decided to stop using it, or if I just did. But, over the years, I can think of several other words or phrases that I had to choose to stop using. Either they were annoying, inappropriate, or I just caught myself saying it too often.

Well, I'm actively working on eliminating a word from my vocabulary again. I'll tell you what it is soon. But first, let me tell you why I want to stop using it.

This word is a "feeling" word. But, it is just about the vaguest feeling word ever. I notice that I use it in place of other, more specific feeling words. And, I’ve observed a lot of people doing the exact same thing. Actually, I think that most of the time, maybe 80% of the time that this word is used, it is replacing the word "ANGRY." But anger is bad, and scary, and TOO MUCH. So, I use this vague word instead.

Do you know what it is?

Frustrated!

Did you guess, correctly?

The definition of frustration is: "The feeling of being upset or annoyed, especially because of inability to change or achieve something."

And you know what? That's a good word to use sometimes. I think I probably feel frustrated a lot. But, I don't think I feel frustrated as often as I say the word. A lot of times I probably need to say, “That made me angry.” Or, “I feel stuck.” Or possibly even, “I don’t know what that made me feel, but it wasn’t good.”

I am working on being more precise with the words that I use. And, that means that I don’t want to use the word frustrated, unless I know for sure that I am FRUSTRATED!!!

Art:Worship

The other night I got to participate in a night of “Worship Through Art.” I am not the best artist. However, on the occasions that I can get past the narrative that “I can’t paint, or draw” I usually have a great time trying to create art. Add in the element of making it an act of worship – using my creativity to try to express my love of God – and it’s one of my favorite things.

So I showed up, sat down, prayed that I could worship through my art, and tried to get started. But, there were a lot of distractions. It was a conference that I was providing some counseling for, so I got asked a question or two, and a friend that I had made sat down next to me and started talking – not knowing that I’m more of a quiet, introspective artist.

But, I put the pastel to the paper and started going for it. For about 5 minutes I just went for it. And, let me tell you… Nothing! I had nothing. I was trying to hide my disappointment and was trying to figure out how to move seats without being rude, when the inspiration showed up.

6 years old, long blonde hair, and a spunky attitude. “What are you drawing?” The tone that was used was one of bewilderment. As any good counselor would do, I turned the question back around on my visitor, “What does this look like to you?” She studied it for a good long while and told me what she saw.

Then she told me how I could improve what I had drawn. “Maybe you could help me with it.” Those were the magic words – help me, she did. As her developing fine motor skills were whirling she walked me through all the finer points of who she was, where she lived, and how to correctly draw a palm tree.

“Are you mad that I’m helping you?” She asked after a couple minutes of completely changing the artistic direction of my worship.
“No! I asked for your help! And you’re doing a great job!”

She stopped drawing, checked my face for honesty, smiled to herself, and went back at it.

A few minutes later her mother called her away, so I thanked her for her help, and she was gone. For a few minutes I sat looking at the masterpiece that we had created and decided that it was done. My other friend was still talking so I found an appropriate moment to excuse myself and I got up and walked, by myself, down to the beach. I was bummed that I hadn’t had the chance to worship through art. I had enjoyed the interaction with my 6-year-old friend, but I had been hoping for some sort of breakthrough – or something.

Watching waves, listening to their comfort, has always been a favorite thing of mine. And as I got over my disappointment, as I started to relax, a new thought emerged.

Maybe letting that 6-year-old help me with my art was a way that I could worship. Maybe that is my art. 

Yeah, I think so.

Hong Kong 100k

100 kilometers and 20,000 feet of climbing up and then back down again. Sounds miserable. But, it’s in Hong Kong! And you get a free entry! Right. So, I ran up and down the mountains in Chiang Mai a lot, and then flew to Hong Kong. 

“I’m gonna come to Hong Kong for your race.” I thought my friend Tim, who lives in Wyoming, was joking, but he wasn’t. So, when I got in on Friday morning, there he was. I love seeing new places, and Tim and I get along really well, so it was really nice time together. We saw quite a lot, while also leaving plenty to go back and see “next time.” I appreciate Tim so much for coming out and helping with the race, but it was also just great to hang.

I started the race slowly and from the beginning I felt really good. I enjoyed the first 4 or 5 miles and once the crowd thinned out a little bit I decided to start working. I hit a low point around mile 29, but it only lasted for a mile or two. It was brought on by direct sunlight and having to use my hands (and knees) to get up one hill. Besides that everything worked like clockwork. Tim met me at 5 aid stations and gave me my tailwind and whatever else had my fancy at that time. 

The course was mostly either up or down. Not much flat. If it was going up, we were climbing up stairs made out of stones placed there by design (not God’s). If it was going down, we were descending stairs likewise made of uneven, not always steady, stone. I had practiced some on stairs, but not enough. The technique of stair climbing/descending is different than just running up or down a hill. The beating that the stairs hand your body is more dramatic than regular dirt trail. And, the concentration it takes to navigate the best path up or down a set of uneven stairs accumulates over time.

Besides the one blip I told you about earlier, I felt strong and smooth all the way until mile 48. I saw Tim at that aid station and told him I wasn’t feeling so hot. He used some psychologist’s trick and I left feeling buoyed. A couple miles later was when I saw a porcupine. Hong Kong has wild porcupines. Seriously. And they’re huge.

As mile 55 rolled around, my body, and my brain, decided they had done enough. And I stopped running. There isn’t a good way to explain this “Blowing up” other than to say – I just couldn’t. I tried every trick in the book. But my legs were beat up and my brain was tired. So, I ran a little, really really slowly, but mostly I just walked it in. “Keep moving forward…” I had hit nearly all of my time goals up to that last section. Then, I didn’t.

 I finished in 32^nd out of 465 finishers (622 starters) and in 16 hours and 15 minutes. This one will go in the books as the hardest course I’ve ever ran. I’ve done a lot of these races now and everyone is new and presents new challenges. This race was all about managing the stairs. I was happy with the finish. I was super impressed by the Hong Kong runners. And I was so grateful for Tim’s support and accompaniment.

I don’t think I walked away with any big life lessons. But, as with every race, it was hard, and it’s always nice knowing that you can do hard things.

Thank you for all of you that followed along throughout the day. We were required to carry a phone, so while I didn’t see most of your messages, I did feel the notification buzz, and that was always encouraging.

Heading Home

It’s been a good summer. A lot has happened. It’s been busy with work, studying, visiting people, and overall just enjoying being in Ohio. Ohio is such a great place to call home. I am proud to do so, and will probably always feel like it’s home.

But, now, it’s time to head home.

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That doesn’t quite make sense - the having two homes thing. But, it’s my life now - one of the job descriptions of being a missionary.

That seems strange too. The missionary part.

Life has a way of sneaking up and not being anything that you can quite put your hands on.

So, we lean into it, we fight against it, and if we’re lucky, we take naps so we can do it all over again.

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I’ve started packing.

I’m headed back to Thailand to resume my work as a counselor to missionaries. I’ll be doing most of the same things as I was when I was there previously - doing my best to provide hope and healing for missionaries, and their children, in Southeast Asia.

The last time that I packed for Thailand, I did so without ever having been to Thailand. I didn’t really know anyone there, and I only had guesses as to what my work would look like. I was so excited about all of the possibilities.

This time, as I’m packing, I’m doing so having spent the better part of a year in Thailand, I know a lot of great people, and I have a pretty good idea of what the job will look like.

And, I’m more excited this time around.

Several people have asked me, “When did you know that you wanted to go back?” I have a vivid memory. There was a day, in a staff meeting where a particular item was being discussed, that I felt needed. And I felt wanted. I hope that doesn’t sound arrogant. It just felt like I was in the right place, and those around me felt the same way. That’s when I knew that I wanted to be in Thailand, in Chiang Mai, and at Cornerstone.

So, here we go!

P.S. All of the counselors at Cornerstone, myself included, raise their own financial support. I am still looking for some friends who would be interested in helping me to finish off raising my support. If you are interested in coming alongside of me and my work you can follow this link to do so: https://paraclete.net/people/paraclete-associates/david-emch/

Everything

Everything, it seems,

is like every other beautiful thing.

Though there are some mysteries

unlike any other mystery.

And in each one of these

individual beauties

Your essence is the common

element - making each one

both unique and akin.

Running is like life, and life is like a box of chocolates. Missing home is like missing being gone, and missing you is like a forgotten simile. So often we can only describe things by using other things as a point of reference. 

Heart - too big

Oh my heart, my heart

It’s too big

For its still drawn to shiny things

and deep eyes.

Distracted by the temporary

and the partial.

Clinging to the hopes stored

in jars made by other men

Cut away that extra

So I can love

You.

The Lord your God will circumcise your heart and the hearts of your children, SO that you may love him with all of heart and with all your soul, and live. Deut 30:6

8 years

It was a big duplex house - we had the downstairs.

Through the glass doors, that let in all of the heat, (or all of the cold) was the sunroom. It became my office - my classroom. Through that door, and to the left, was my desk. Covered with papers and books and highlighters, there was just enough room for my laptop and a mug of coffee.

In the fall of 2010, I logged on to the school’s website and started to finish my undergrad. During the winter, hunched over the heater, listening to a lecture, I would sit out in that room and dream of my career to come. During the summer, sweating without an A/C, I would write research papers mostly concerning children that I hoped I would have the chance to work with. 

We moved from that house. Then I finished undergrad and started grad school. Then we moved again. Then we became I. I took a break from classes. Then I went back at it. And then, a couple of evenings ago I got an email:

 I knew it was coming. May 19^th was a while ago. But still.

Almost 8 years after I went back to finish my undergrad, and almost 6 years after I started grad school, I’ve finished.

And it feels really good. It took way too long - a ridiculous amount of time. But, also just long enough.

I think back to the person I was in 2010 and I am glad that it took me so long. I wouldn’t have had much of a chance of being a good counselor if I hadn’t lived through both the difficulties and joys of those 8 years. So, I can only be grateful.

And excited for what’s next. 

Head down, heart up, hands out. Here we go!

Bark Mulch

I’m sitting at Starbucks. I was given a gift card and I’m enjoying an Italian roast. Just outside the window of the chair that I’m sitting in is a flower bed. In that flower bed is mulch – bark mulch.

I started thinking about the owner of the bark mulch place, and how excited he was to receive word that the St. Petersburg Starbucks wanted his mulch for all of their stores. And maybe when he got into the bark mulch business all of his friends and family thought that he was ridiculous. But, he stuck to his dream of having the best barkmulch in the bay area, and here he is, just seven short years later – the barkmulch king of St. Petersburg, Tampa, and maybe all of Florida. “That risotto you’re eating?” he says to his children, “That risotto is barkmulchrisotto.” And even though it’s a lemon spinach risotto, and not barkmulchrisotto, they understand that everything they have in life is due to their dad’s persistence that barkmulch was profitable. And it’s true.

And I so often forget that life isn’t about mulch, barkmulch or any other variety, but life is always about the mulch.

#SeeYouWhenISeeYou

I’m looking at my hotel room’s wall.

When you get the kind of deal that I did, the walls are usually devoid of art. These ones are. And an artless wall is just fine with me, because I’m 2 kilometers from the airport, and in less than 12 hours I’ll be flying out of Thailand – no time for hotel art.

 When I bought these tickets back in June of last year I added on 6 days at the end of my internship. The thought was that maybe I would want to travel a bit before leaving the country. Also, there was a chance I would be leaving Thailand and not planning a return trip.

I was wrong on both accounts. Oh well, this is why my fortune-telling gig right after college never took off. When last Friday came around I was ready to be home –where I will have a hard time breathing with Bernadette, Belle, and Phil’s fur clogging up my sinuses. And, I am planning on returning to Thailand…

You know those people who always say, “It changed my life!” in regards to everything (including my famous green beans (which are good, but not that good))? I’m going to borrow a line from them.

This time changed my life.

Being in Thailand was so good. Being at Cornerstone, with some of the best people ever, has been incredible. Counseling, nearly full-time, is difficult - and I love it. Working with cross-cultural workers in a counseling environment is emotionally draining – in the best way possible. But, most of all, counseling children? I have come alive.

I don’t know, this might sound pompous, naïve, or misguided, but I feel deep in my bones, that God wired me to be a counselor. And even deeper, I believe life has happened how it’s happened to equip me to sit with children. So, I can’t wait to get back to it.

If I had imagined my best life for myself, I couldn’t have imagined as fulfilling of a life as the one I believe I am entering into. I had dreams. Oh, I had dreams! But, they weren’t this good. And sometimes, I had no dreams at all - other than to survive the workday, the workweek, and the worklife. But in all of those, I couldn’t have imagined this.

So, thank you. Seriously. Thank you. If you’re reading this that means that in some way you were a part of all of it. So, to nearly everyone in my world: I’ll see you when I see you, and hopefully I see you soon.

Hazelnuts and Fat People

I was going to wait to show you this until I got this framed, but I'm too excited.

My friend, Erika, asked if I would like a painting done. And, immediately I knew what I wanted. Not only did Erika do an awesome job with the painting, she did an incredible job of taking my 3 separate ideas and combining them into one thought and painting. 

Here they are: 

Two Giant Fat People

God and I

have become like

two giant fat people

living on a tiny boat.

We keep bumping

into each other

and laughing  

                                         - Hafiz

The Seed Cracked Open

It used to be

that when I would wake in the morning

I could with confidence say, 

"What am 'I' going to do?"

That was before the seed

Cracked open

Now Hafiz is certain:

There are two of us housed

In this body,

Doing the shopping together in the market and 

tickling each other 

while fixing the evening's food.

Now when I awake

All the internal instruments play the same music.

"God, what love-mischief can 'We' do

for the world today?" 

                                                 - Hafiz


The Hazelnut
And in this he showed me a little thing, the quantity of a hazelnut, lying in the palm of my hand, as it seemed.And it was as round as any ball. I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, 'What may this be?'
And it was answered generally thus, 'It is all that is made.' I marveled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nothing for littleness. And I was answered in my understanding: It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it. And so have all things their beginning by the love of God.
In this little thing I saw three properties.
The first is that God made it.
The second that God loves it.
And the third, that God keeps it.
                                                                   - Julian of Norwich

So, in response to what I am learning of, about, with God, or what is on my heart, I would go ahead and show you this painting. 

Those Grand Glories

Those Grand Glories
Yes, of course I want them

Those Grand Glories

Admiration
Adulation
Affirmation

Or were you referring to the other
lesser known glories

Friend’s laughter
patio sitting
a simple, quiet life

Those would do too

I’m more and more convinced that there is no such thing as the right way to live a life. Sure, there are wrong ways, and there are better ways, and some dogmatically inclined folks might say that there is God’s way. But, I just can’t be sure that there is one perfect way.

Maybe I am saying this because I am at a crossroads. And maybe I’m trying to pad the possible fall – limit the potential damage – soften the proverbial blow that would smack me in the face.

Or maybe, after all this time, I'm actually getting there.

The North Face 100 - Thailand

5 Kilometers in - I was breathing hard, getting hot, and already behind where I wanted to be.

Ryan, Richard, and I had gotten to the Khao Yai area on Thursday afternoon after flying to Bangkok and driving the rental car 2 hours north. Thursday passed quietly, Friday did the same until we found our way to the race area to check-in, pick up our bibs, and listen to the race instructions.

Running is unique in that it’s the skinny people who are scarier. And there were a lot of skinny-scary dudes walking around. I was getting pretty intimidated, and Richard ‘helped’ calm my nerves by telling me, “Looks can be deceiving… you don’t look fast.” True enough.

I didn’t know what place I was in, but after only 30 minutes of a 100k race, that’s not very important. What’s more important, for me at least, is to follow my plan. So, I put my head down, sped up, and after several more kilometers was back where I wanted to be.

I don’t know how many miles Richard, Ryan, and I have run together since I got to Thailand, but it has to be several hundred. That being said, it was great to spend the weekend with them. They both ran races this weekend as well.

The miles started ticking off and I was feeling good. I caught up with a fellow runner at some point in here and we made conversation for a while. That turned out to be Kristian Morgan, the guy who ended up finishing 2^nd and was never far behind the rest of the day. These early miles - with the steep climbs, the sharp downhills, and everything else - these are the ones that you cherish, as the later miles don’t just tick off.

Running on the road I turn a sharp corner and am greeted by a line of young school children. In unison they wai (bowing with hands clasped as in prayer) and yell, “Sa-Wa-Dee-Kha!” “Hello!” I think I managed a translatable grunt back at them as I waved, but their smiling faces buoyed me for miles. Another time a young boy ran with me for 100 meters or so while he tried to get a selfie of him and I. Joy.

Several hours in I ran into a wall. It was a wall of folks running the 15 and 25km race. This wouldn’t have been a problem but it was climbing up a steep hill and then descending that same hill with no room on either side. I spent 10 minutes saying “Excuse me!” waiting for people to step aside, and then rushing to the next group of people. I had to do this with probably close to 100 people. The only thing that kept me from going crazy was knowing that everyone else in my race was in the same situation.

In one of these packs of people I passed the 1^st place 100k runner.  So, coming out of that section I found myself in first. And, as the new first place runner, I got a motorcycle companion that followed me around and pointed me through the rest of the course. I’d like to think that we became friends, but a lot of things from Saturday are fuzzy so that might have been in my head.

I took several minutes to enjoy being in the lead, but I could feel the footsteps of Quang Tran (the 3^rd place finisher) close behind. So, I put my head down and ran.

“What do you think about when you run that far?” I thought about my mom who I knew would be up until I finished (2:45am her time), so I ran as fast as I could so she could cheer and get to bed. I thought about cheesy lava pizza, finish line massages, and why on earth I run these races. But mostly, I was just trying to enjoy the day. Waving to kids, Thumbs-upping fellow runners (“Suu Suu!!!”), and trying to remember poems, (“Forget your voice, sing! Forget your feet, dance! Forget your life, live! Forget yourself and be!” - Kamand Kojouri).

It got hot. It got hard. It got to the point where I didn’t want to take another step. But I did.

As I’m sitting here thinking of all of the stories, all of the people, and all of those little moments that pass quicker than they come, I am forced to stop writing soon or I’ll go on and on. 

I spent nearly 40 miles in the lead. I felt like I was being hunted, and it was not a great feeling. I’ve always enjoyed laying back and waiting for opportunities, but Saturday, for several reasons, I felt like my best strategy was to push early and hang on. Finishing only 2 minutes ahead of second place, 10 minutes ahead of 3^rd place and only 35 minutes ahead of the first woman I think that was a good idea!

“Why (or how) do you run that far?” It used to be that I would run angry. Or, if not angry, sad. Life can sometimes be difficult. And I firmly believe what I have said about running being a chance to get a win in life. Running doesn’t solve a failing relationship, but it can displace some of the pain for a little while.  But, right now? Finishing up 2017 and having a good start on 2018? I can be nothing but grateful for my life. And so, when the race got hard, like they always do, this time I didn’t whip myself. This time I didn’t force myself to not quit like I had in other life endeavors. Instead, I ran happy, free, and with joy. And that made all the difference.

Saturday was a great race, but now I am excited to just run for fun for a while. I’m leading a “Couch to 5K” program for my friends at work, and that is great.

I got a free entry into The North Face’s 100k in Hong Kong next December, so maybe I won’t retire just yet. Maybe one more year of this… ; )

Nana

The first thing you should know about my Nana is that she isn't my real Nana.

My name is Kevin. I am 12 years old. I have one sister who is 6 years old. Her name is Melissa. We live in Point’s Hollow, Ohio with my mom, my dad, and now my Nana.

The second thing you should know about my Nana is that she has great endurance.

Our town is 20 miles from Springfield. My dad is a farmer and my mom runs the corner store. I am in the 5^th grade. I like football, fishing, and anything my friends are doing. I still remember the day my Nana showed up. It was almost lunchtime and I was sitting by the road counting the clouds that passed by my house. Summers in Point’s Hollow can be boring.

The third thing you should know about my Nana is that she doesn’t remember much.

The day Nana showed up was in the summer. It’s the wintertime now. I was sitting there, counting clouds, like I told you when I saw her on her bike. She’s an old lady and she rides normal speed for an old lady, which is pretty slow. She rode her bike past me and she had a look on her face like she wasn’t seeing anything that she was looking at. Nana went three pedals past me, and then stopped. She stood there for a long time looking around, so I ran up to her. I said, “Hi. Do you need some help?” She said, “Hi Zachary, I’m just going to the market.” I didn’t know what to say because there isn’t a market near my house, and my name is Kevin, not Zachary. I said, “Are you lost?” She said, “Lost? Good heavens, no! I’ve lived here my whole life! I’m not lost, I’m just looking for Mittens. Have you seen her?”

The fourth thing you should know about my Nana is that she’s a really good cook.

I ran and got my mom. My mom brought Nana into our house and got her a glass of iced tea. Old people love iced tea. Nana usually loves it but sometimes she hates it. That day she loved it. My mom asked her a bunch of questions, like “what’s your name?” “where do you live?” “what’s your family’s name?” Nana didn’t know the answer to most of the questions. When my dad got back from the fields we took Nana into Springfield. We went to the police station, but they said there wasn’t any missing person reports. We went to the hospital, the old people’s home, and even to the rotary club. But, no one was missing a little old lady. So, we brought Nana back home with us. Later that night she told my mom that she wanted to read a story to me and my sister. So, we climbed up into bed with Nana and she read us a story. Even though I’m 12, and too old for stories, I loved it. She’s the best reader ever.

The fifth thing you should know about my Nana is that she always carries butterscotch candy in her pockets.

My mom and dad traveled all around trying to find Nana’s family, but they couldn’t find her missing from anywhere. They even went all the way to Columbus, but no one was looking for Nana. I think that Nana probably got on her bike and rode all the way from St. Louis. Like I told you, she has really good endurance. The second day she was at our house we went for a walk. Nana walked so fast that we could barely keep up with her. My mom turned around and took Melissa home after a while, but Nana and I walked for a really long time. It was a lot of fun. She told me a bunch of stories about her husband and children. She kept changing the names, so I don’t know what was actually true, but I think her husband is dead and her kids are "rabble-rousers." Sometimes Nana lets me talk and talk for hours. My mom always says that my imagination belongs in the circus, and even though Nana doesn’t remember any of the stories I tell her, I’m pretty sure she loves hearing them.

The sixth thing you should know about my Nana is that she is missing a finger on her left hand and has fake teeth.

My dad said, “She isn’t a stray animal, we can’t “keep her!”” I think we spent almost a month looking for her family, but, in the end, we never could find them. I cried and cried when dad said that we were going to take her to the police station and let them deal with her. But mom said something about “leaving him for Billy Forrest” and he said that Nana could stay. Besides, even though Nana is really nice, I think my dad is a little afraid of her. I don’t know why. Anyways, I think that was the happiest day of my life. Nana sometimes does strange things like wears her clothes inside out. One time we woke up and she wasn’t in her room. We looked and looked and finally found her walking towards town. She sometimes scolds mom like mom is her own daughter. Sometimes she gets angry and says that she doesn’t know where she is. But, that’s only sometimes. Most of the time I can’t wait to get home from school to see her. Like yesterday, after I got home from school, we sat on the back porch and snapped peas for dinner. She likes to hear about my day at school, and she likes to tell me about all of her sisters and about when they were growing up.

The seventh thing you should know about my Nana is that she is my best friend.

My favorite part of the day is after Nana is done reading to us she looks at me and says, “Oh, my sweet little Zachary, good night!”  Except, a couple of days ago, she said, “Oh, my sweet little Kevin, good night!” I looked at her, really surprised, and she just winked at me. She doesn’t usually remember my name so that made me super happy. When Nana first started living with us mom said that Nana had “old-timer’s” disease. That’s why she doesn’t remember things too good. Mom also said that Nana would probably get worse. Nana hasn’t been eating. Mom said that Mrs. Bloom’s mother, who had old-timers too, stopped eating before she died. That made me really sad. Even though Nana isn’t my real Nana, and even though she’s only been living with us since the summer, I can’t really remember her not being around. So, I try my best to help her eat. Sometimes she’ll eat, and sometimes she won’t let me get the spoon close to her mouth. So, I can tell that she’s probably getting ready to die. Mom said that sometimes old people are just ready to die. That makes me really sad, but I just want Nana to be happy. The other reason I think Nana is getting ready to die is because she’s been telling stories about her husband and it sounds like she mostly liked him. Back before, when she first came, her stories weren’t as nice about him. So I think Nana knows she’s about to go see him up in heaven, and maybe she’s practicing liking him again. 

I don’t know what makes someone family, but, the last thing you should know about my Nana is that she is my real Nana.

Quiet Time

I’ve been quiet on here for quite some time. That’s because I have had a lot of thoughts floating through, in and out of, my head. Sometimes I feel like a little boy, lying on his back, watching the sky, and watching the kites as they fly up and down and around. Occasionally one of those kites will swoop low enough that the boy can read the lettering on its side. That lettering? Those are my thoughts most of the time.

I used to run around chasing and trying to catch the kites. But that was too much work and produced hazy end results. This way, letting the thoughts coalesce, is much more restful – still hazy – but more restful.

Two quotes have come together, from two very different sources, to hopefully produce one coherent thought.

“Many mornings I wake up an utter unbeliever – worse than any atheist” – Christian Wiman

“Every morning I must say again to myself, Today I start.” – St. Anthony of the Desert

Do you feel this way too?

I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that I’m too busy in the mornings. Or maybe I’m not enough of a morning person.

Either way, it seems like, if I let me, my self likes to get to lunch time-ish before I remember to start properly.

And by then of course I have to start with penitence for my reticence and when I’m done with that I usually forget why I wanted to start anyways…

The point is. I’ve been much better about starting the day with what we used to call, “quiet time.” That idea of starting fresh every day, not because I should, but because I need.

Do you feel this way too?

Delight

The good news is that God has such low standards

And reaches out to those of us who oftentimes are unlovable

And offers us a chance to come back inside out of our storm

Of drama and toxic thoughts

Love reaches out and reaches out and reaches out

It is staggering that it is always giving another chance

Another day

Over and over and over

Or maybe, it isn’t low standards – but high delight

                                   By delight I mean                    Mother 

looking over the crib at her sleeping baby

                                Daddy                 bouncing baby on his knee

Laughing and laughing and laughing

Maybe God’s delight in us is just so much

So big so high

That the dirt smudge on our cheek doesn’t bother him.

And Remember

delight true delight is best received when it is reciprocated

Given back to the giver

Mutual Joy in the Other

An update!

The easiest way to say this is to say that things are good. Things are great. Stupendous, really.

I’ve moved from my apartment across the street from Cornerstone, and from now until the 20^th of October, I’ll move several times until I settle into my friend Ruth’s house for the remainder of my time.

Besides the logistics involved in moving around for the next month, I feel confident in saying that I am settled in and comfortably living in Thailand.

In regards to actual counseling, I haven’t started seeing any clients yet. However, I have had the opportunity to observe several other clinicians during some of their sessions and that has been a really good learning experience.

I’m back to running somewhat seriously. I have a couple marathons planned for later on this year and then in February I will race a 100k. Here's a view from a Buddhist temple just outside of town. 

From a practicalities standpoint there is probably quite a bit more I could tell you. But, I think this is a good place to leave those sorts of details.

By far, without even thinking about it, the best experience thus far has been the staff retreat that I just returned from. Wednesday afternoon we piled into cars, drove about 25 minutes to a little hotel/retreat center, and proceeded to spend the next 48 hours doing retreaty things.

Here’s what I can tell you. These are great people, doing great things, with each other. And, for some reason, they let me be a part.

And I feel like I fit – like its where I should be – where I want to be. It also feels too good to be true. But in the real way.

“Wherever you have dreamed of going, I have camped there, and left firewood for when you arrive.”

-Hafiz

That’s how it feels here. It feels like dropping the backpack at the end of a long day of hiking, looking around the area you’ve found to camp, and finding a makeshift fire ring with a pile of dry firewood ready for the evening. Stupendous, really.

So, thanks for being a part of my journey!

P.S. Some humor to highlight how beautiful Thailand is!

10 Days in.

Friends!

I'm sitting here on an early Sunday morning, slowly getting ready for church, checking emails, and feeling really grateful to be here - in this apartment, across the street from Cornerstone, in Chiang Mai, in Thailand - you get the point.

I have been super busy getting settled in and so haven't sat down to write the last several days. So, instead, I made a little video. Talking isn't my strong suit, so bear with me. : )

So, anyways. Things are great!

Contact: One of the incredible things about living in 2017 is that even though I am halfway around the world we can still communicate easily! 

- Email - david.emch@gmail.com

- Facebook - If you have messenger that's an easy way to communicate

- iMessage - my phone number is +66 93-125-9293

-Whatsapp - Whatsapp is a great texting app. If you have it or want to download it, you can find me with my phone number.

I will leave you with a couple prayer requests.

   - My Mom and Sister's family live down in Florida. Will you pray with me for their safety?

   - I would appreciate your continued prayers for my getting settled in.

Thanks! Talk to you soon. 

The Greater We

In a couple of days, I am finally, after what has seemed like an extremely long wait, getting on an airplane. I’ll be flying west for twenty-four hours to arrive in the Far East.

I’ll wave goodbye to my Mom, who is taking me to the airport, and getting onto an airplane. All by myself. This is a journey, an adventure, an opportunity, an experience, that I will be taking all on my own.

And yet, I am deeply struck by the fact that none of this would have been possible without a myriad – literally a huge group – of people. If you’re reading this, you’re probably one of those people.

If I told you all of the stories about all of the people who have lent me a hand to get me on that airplane, it would take a book. If I told you all of the stories about all of the little things that got worked out for me to be getting on that airplane, it would take another book.

There is a Bible passage that says this way better than I could.

1 Cor. 12:13-28  - Your body has many parts—limbs, organs, cells—but no matter how many parts you can name, you’re still one body. It’s exactly the same with Christ. By means of his one Spirit, we all said good-bye to our partial and piecemeal lives. We each used to independently call our own shots, but then we entered into a large and integrated life in which he has the final say in everything. (This is what we proclaimed in word and action when we were baptized.) Each of us is now a part of his resurrection body, refreshed and sustained at one fountain—his Spirit—where we all come to drink. The old labels we once used to identify ourselves—labels like Jew or Greek, slave or free—are no longer useful. We need something larger, more comprehensive.

 I want you to think about how all this makes you more significant, not less. A body isn’t just a single part blown up into something huge. It’s all the different-but-similar parts arranged and functioning together. If Foot said, “I’m not elegant like Hand, embellished with rings; I guess I don’t belong to this body,” would that make it so? If Ear said, “I’m not beautiful like Eye, limpid and expressive; I don’t deserve a place on the head,” would you want to remove it from the body? If the body was all eye, how could it hear? If all ear, how could it smell? As it is, we see that God has carefully placed each part of the body right where he wanted it.

 But I also want you to think about how this keeps your significance from getting blown up into self-importance. For no matter how significant you are, it is only because of what you are a part of. An enormous eye or a gigantic hand wouldn’t be a body, but a monster. What we have is one body with many parts, each its proper size and in its proper place. No part is important on its own. Can you imagine Eye telling Hand, “Get lost; I don’t need you”? Or, Head telling Foot, “You’re fired; your job has been phased out”? As a matter of fact, in practice it works the other way—the “lower” the part, the more basic, and therefore necessary. You can live without an eye, for instance, but not without a stomach. When it’s a part of your own body you are concerned with, it makes no difference whether the part is visible or clothed, higher or lower. You give it dignity and honor just as it is, without comparisons. If anything, you have more concern for the lower parts than the higher. If you had to choose, wouldn’t you prefer good digestion to full-bodied hair?

 The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don’t, the parts we see and the parts we don’t. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing. If one part flourishes, every other part enters into the exuberance.

 You are Christ’s body—that’s who you are! You must never forget this. Only as you accept your part of that body does your “part” mean anything.

So. In a couple days I get on that plane all alone. But, as just one small part of the greater WE!

Thank you all for your love and support up to this point! Next post from Thailand!

Arthritic Shoulders

“If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” Isaac Newton

I’ve always loved this quote. It pays tributes to those who have come before – something that has always been really important to me. But it also backhandedly alludes to the fact that I can see really really far. That’s important to me too.

I was thinking about this quote the other day and something, a popcorn kernel of discontentment, stuck between my mental teeth. After having chewed it over for a while I think I know what it is.

It makes everything seem too neat and clean. It makes it sound like everything, all of my well laid plans, have worked out just fine.

Let me tell you something – if I happened to find myself standing on some shoulders it wasn’t because I planned on it. Just the opposite. Most of the time I just sort of wander into good situations.

Can we just all admit that this is the truth for most of us?

I’m tired of trying to make you think I’m something I’m not. I’m really bad at some things. I’m not good at a lot of other things. I’m pretty good at other things (sleeping is my #1 skill). I’m not beating myself up. I’m just tired of trying to hide who I really am behind a mask of competence.

What if Christianity’s culture changed enough that we could all walk around with our masks of near-perfection off?

Here’s another thought – a thought that I really love.

If we were all able to allow our real selves to be visible we could all just rest in our imperfections and rest in God’s love/grace.

Beautiful.

I consider myself one of the luckiest people in the world. I have had so many people come beside me in my life. I can’t even begin to count.

If I can see anything in life I can honestly say that it’s not because of my wisdom or insight, it’s because I have had the incredible privilege to stand on a lot of shoulders.

Those shoulders that I’ve stood on? They’ve been arthritic. Knotted, broken, weak, and in pain. And to me – I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because those shoulders, shoulders riddled with arthritis, are so much broader and so much kinder than any other type of shoulders.

That seems a lot better to me. Admittedly it sounds better to me because if anyone ever was to stand on my shoulders I know that they would be standing on shoulders plagued with arthritis from day 1.