Sunrise, Sunset.

One more sunrise over Bangkok.

             

One more tea party.

              

One more project.

                           

                           

One more reading-together time.

     

One more hug.

(Sweet Tristan was on his way out the door to the youth group Christmas party and turned around to spend time with Grandmoni her last evening.)

                             

One more sunset over Bangkok.

   

As I look over this city, brimming with life and color and people (and more people) and traffic (and more traffic) and sin and opulence and poverty, I cannot help but consider how this foreign culture typifies each of our lives....decadent, busy and empty apart from Christ. In a way, the contrast between the darkness and light are perhaps more sharp here. In the States,  we blur the lines. Our idols are not Buddha shrines on corners or sacrifices offered to figures of gold, but the visibility of such in this culture prompts the challenge to consider our own focus gone askew. I am grateful that we have family who have been called to be bearers of Light here. There is no greater joy than the blessing of one's children walking with The Lord. 

Children of the Heavenly Father

Safely in His bosom gather

Nestling bird nor star in heaven

Such a refuge e'er was given

God His own doth tend and nourish

In His holy courts they flourish

From all evil things He spares them

In His mighty arms He bears them

Neither life nor death shall ever

From the Lord His children sever

Unto them His grace He showeth

And their sorrows all He knoweth

Though He giveth or He taketh

God His children ne'er forsaketh

His the loving purpose solely

To preserve them pure and holy

One more night I will sing all four verses of this song that I have sung to my grandbabies since they were little while rubbing their backs and tucking them in at bedtime. Tristan promises to not be too big or too cool for these special moments next time we are together.  Sleepy children peek to see why Grandmoni's voice is cracking and catch a runaway teardrop sneaking down my cheek. In the words of  King David:

                   Shall I offer to the Lord that which costs me nothing?