It can be surprising sometimes where the spirit which governs this work leads one. I have surmised that we would spend most of our time in the larger cities where we have the branch-builders working, but the responsibility even for them has led us off the highway and onto what my sister-in-law lovingly called the "grey roads" which not infrequently here turn into non-roads.
We sent the other part of our tandem dynamic duo of sisters, Sister D, home this week (MB wrote about Sister T already and her trek back to Lao- and yes, it more correctly does not have a final 's'.) But since Sister D was returning to our mission, I had a dual duty of sending her home and releasing her upon her return home. I view those as quite different functions with somewhat different purposes, so I began to think about how to release her with her family present. And that led us off the highway into the beautiful farmlands of Binh Dinh, about a 40 minute drive north of the seaside city of Quy Nhon. We made the trek the day following her departure and were welcomed into her home politely, but with a fair bit of skepticism. She is the only member in her family, which family mostly treated her decision to serve a mission as a bit of foolishness and folly. Her return home with "nothing" seemed to bear out their appraisal of the waste her time had been. Perhaps God knew that would be their response and so impressed on us the value of making this trip.
It was fascinating to meet her rather cold and quiet mother, her talkative uncle, her spry grandfather, somewhat more sanguine about her choices, and her supportive and loving aunt, pictured here together, and listen to their discussion of life in a wonderful Mien Trung brougue which Sister D nicely hid through her mission.
But what I will always remember is the sense of quiet stillness and warmth of spirit that entered that humble home as I explained the nature of Christ's atoning sacrifice and the immense value of the work of making it known to people everywhere, the priceless work which Sister D has been doing. And speaking to express the thanks that numberless souls will have for her work, and the very gratitude of the Savior himself for her commitment to this work brought a tenderness that cannot be fully expressed.
Sister D later expressed to us her sentiments as she was out running earlier that morning and had been called in by various neighbors to say hello and asked to explain what she had been doing. "I realized that I was the richest person in all of Binh Dinh." Indeed she is.
We stayed that night in Quy Nhon to await our rendezvous with other senior missionaries and my counselor and his wife with whom we planned to visit other members along the coast between there and Ho Chi Minh City. After checking into our hotel, I glanced out the window and saw this view of the coastline extending to the southeast.
Wow!, but why is this beach totally empty on a beautiful day?
The answer is not an aversion to water, or a fear of toxic pollution (as IS the case further north where there have been rather troubling massive beachings of dead fish and sharks,) but simply the same reason the parks are empty at noon on pleasant Sunday afternoons, it's the culturally appropriate time to rest at home or in the shade. With a surfeit of "beach days" and year-round warm water, one can be picky about when to enjoy the blessing. Indeed, the early morning, and late afternoon runs or strolls we took revealed a much loved recreational space, until the sun got hot, the UV radiation more carcinogenic, and the silly westerners came out to worship. But in the shoulder periods of the day, all ages, from young to the aged could be found enjoying the water, lying on or playing on the sand (including the girls team-handball group practicing,) burying themselves in the sand or sitting in the surf. It was a refreshingly healthy "beach culture" all its own. In this picture taken at 6 am on the Nha Trang beach, notice how many bodies are in the water vs. on the sand, for example.
Our visits brought us into the homes of many members with different, and sometimes similar stories about their contact with the church, and differing levels of desire to re-establish connections. The love of the gospel grows cold sometimes when the fires of faith are not fanned by the ability to feast on the word of God in the scriptures (which were not widely available to many of these people taught in the late 1990s,) and the chances to serve and fellowship with the saints. For the few prior missionaries who live in this area, the feelings and loyalty are more deeply entrenched, but even they struggle without the support of family or other on-going reminders of their covenants. With an appraisal of the needs, and the support of able counselors, one of our hopes will be find a low-cost, and fairly low-tech way of connecting them to each other and the church in a meaningful way that can supply some of that "fanning of the sparks of faith" that will be needed to kindle the flames again.
We did have a wonderful smile at the attitude of H's father as we met with them in the shade of their front porch. H joined the church while a teen working or studying in Phnom Penh (perhaps sent there to avoid the draft) via a connection with another leader in the area who set up a clinic in PP. "Where my son goes, there I go", said his dad. Family allegiances matter in many directions of course, but this manifestation of "the hearts of the father turning to the children" came with such vehemence as to bring a smile. (Several of dad's friends who may be leading him astray at times are also in the photo...)
Natural beauty is found in a variety of forms and shapes long the length of this country, as might be expected in any country spanning well over a thousand miles north to south. The coastline, the mountains, the forests, the deserts, in addition to the beaches have a beauty that matches the varied hearts of the people.
We feel like we too are the richest of people in this country, and can easily count each day the ways in which we feel the blessings of God, witness his hand working with and ahead of us, and cannot see any whom we would esteem an enemy, though some like this young lady helping her mother make lunches, do occasionally look on us as "not like the other ones!"
May your life be blessed with a surfeit of riches and eyes to see them! (Gold does grow on trees here too.)
