Whine and cheese

In case you hadn’t heard, it’s hot here.

I feel like I post way too much about the temperatures in our area, but I continually find myself in awe when I look at my phone to discover the heat index has reached 114 degrees F, like today. 

Even inside with the air cons on, it feels like an oven.

My favorite lipstick – that was in a room with the air con on – melted yesterday.

Today I was going to bake a chicken casserole for dinner and the cheese melted on top before I even put it in the oven to bake.

The local news is blaming El Nino for the crazy, extreme temperatures, but excuses don’t make it any cooler, ya know?

I decided to escape the heat from within today and climbed up to the roof of our house for some relief. We have a flat roof with a railing around the edges, so it’s safe to walk around up there. The moment I opened the hatch and pulled myself up through the small opening, I felt a pleasant breeze blowing.

It was about 6:00 p.m. and the sun was just beginning its final descent. The orange, yellow and purple hues in the sky contrasted against the green of the palm trees as far as the eye could see.

The half-finished apartment buildings currently under construction in our neighborhood, towered above the streets with their various shades of paint colors – mauve, peach and crimson being the apparent favorite choices – adding an unusual mosaic effect to the picturesque view.

The meditative chanting emanating from a nearby monastery was calming and provided a tranquil backdrop, muting any sounds of cars or buses from the main roads.

It was so peaceful and serene, and I found myself captivated by the beauty of it all as the stresses of the day faded away.

While the light departed and evening arose, the sounds of kids on the street riding bikes and playing soccer bubbled up from below. I could hear women nearby clinking their pots and pans, preparing their dinner over their wood burners outside. There were other sounds, like water splashing from a neighbor taking their evening bath – most of the homes on our street don’t have indoor plumbing, so they bathe outside near their water tanks.

Briefly disconcerting was the scuffling sound I heard that drew my attention to a tree in our neighbor’s yard with a big rat climbing up one of the branches into the rafters of their bamboo home. I quickly scanned around our own house to make sure there were no branches from any tree touching any part of our house. Once I was secure in our own varmint-free environment, I returned to my placid state.

For a minute, I felt like I was in a movie. Looking out I could see for miles, and the amazing view amidst the lulling sounds of the monks’ chanting was surreal.

I kept thinking to myself, “I wish everyone could experience this place.”

Sure it’s hot and the language is hard and finding any type of comfort or convenience is a challenge, but in that moment, I just felt so unbelievably blessed.

In a few months, our family will celebrate five years in the overseas service of our Father.

And this evening as I stood surveying this place that we call home and recalling the experiences of these five years, I couldn’t help but be thankful. 

And I just had to share it.

I so wish more people from home would come visit this phenomenal place, but for now, I’m thankful to just be able to share this amazing adventure. And maybe you’ll find some reason for being thankful for wherever you are.   

Easter in the East

Easter was such a big deal growing up in the South.

Every year, my mom and I would go out in the hunt of a new Easter dress. The dress would be accompanied by gloves and a hat – usually a big, floppy type.

Easter morning we would arise early and I would search throughout the house for my hidden Easter basket which would be filled to the rim with chocolate and sugar sweets.

Church attendance was a given – like every other Sunday – followed by a family picnic with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins galore.

In my adult life, with my own children, I loved carrying on some of those traditions.  I especially loved the sunrise service held at our church each year on Easter. It was also one of the rare Sundays that our church family would have breakfast together prior to Sunday school and the morning service.

I remember the music always being so grand on Easter Sunday.

“He has risen! He’s alive!” the choir would sing with trumpets and stringed instruments matching the pipe organ’s resplendence.

Easter was always just a glorious observation of celebrating our risen Lord and His victory over sin and death. This day, next to Christmas, is probably the most important day each year in the life of a Christian.

But when you live in a country where most people have never even heard the name of Jesus Christ, it is quite a different experience.

Easter morning here is the same as every morning. Our neighbors are busy going about their daily chores. The kids play in the street. The dogs lounge in their shady spots.

As we drive to church, there are no flowery crosses in church lawns. There are no Easter decorations to be seen anywhere. There are no Easter eggs and no colorful baskets being sold in stores. It’s just the usual traffic, backed up with horns honking. The monks walk in procession down the street on their way to the monastery. There is no Easter joy on the people’s faces or in their hearts, to be sure.

But then, I guess that’s why we’re here.

Our purpose in life is to share the Good News of Christ’s resurrection with those who are lost in darkness.

Even though they are missing out on the Easter celebrations now, it is my prayer that one day they will be celebrating around the foot of His throne in His eternal kingdom.

Over the last five years we have lived overseas, we have celebrated Easter in various places. We have worshipped with the local church and in house churches. We have gone to church in other countries. Today we decided we would attend the international church worship service in this city.

I was quite surprised when we arrived to find the hall overflowing with people. We even had to bring in plastic chairs to sit on in the back. I’m not sure if it’s a testament to how many foreigners are now living/visiting this city or if it’s a sign that His followers are growing in number in this place.

There was great music and the kids shared a special program. The only unusual thing was there was no preaching. Yes, you heard me right. There was no sermon.

I always thought Easter Sunday was the favorite day for pastors to preach because of the usually expanded crowds and the potential the share the Resurrection message to all in attendance. But apparently not here…

There were also no pretty Easter dresses or hats. I scoffed at first when the church’s youth leader asked for our girls to wear their youth group t-shirts for the Easter program this morning. But when we arrived and found everyone in jeans or shorts, I realized that it must just be my American culture expecting people to be dressed up for the service.

We did initiate a new family tradition this year. We held our own sunrise service on our roof this morning followed by a family breakfast of grits and eggs. We’re missing the delicious deer sausage our American church family will be eating with their breakfast, but it was still great none-the-less. And in some way it made us feel connected with our home church so far away.

Although I miss my family and I miss my church in America, mostly I’m thankful I live in a place where I am reminded of the value of Easter by contrast. Because the people here don’t know about Easter and don’t celebrate, it makes my own personal celebration even that much more meaningful. Because we have to be so intentional to make the day special, I’m reminded of Christ’s intentionality and His purpose for dying on the cross. Despite living in a place that’s lost and in darkness, we recognize the urgency to share His story and reflect the light of His victory through His resurrection on this Easter day.

I challenge you, don’t take Easter for granted.

Don’t merely whiz through the afternoon on a sugar high, eating chocolate and watching sports.

Don’t rush through your day in its busyness and merriment without taking time to consider the privilege you have in knowing His truth and being a recipient of His grace.

Thank God that you were born in a place where you have had the opportunity to hear about Jesus Christ and to know of His love for you.

Happy Easter!

Oh, the rollercoaster

Looking back over the past year, I can hardly believe all that we have seen and done.

We began 2015 in America in the small town of Columbia, Mississippi. We rang in the new year with good friends around a fire pit in the freezing cold watching fireworks while all the neighborhood kids ran around with sparklers. It was a magical beginning to an eventful year.

During the course of the first five months, as a family we visited Alabama, Georgia, Florida, Louisiana, Tennessee, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky and Virginia. We even got to visit parts of Mississippi that we had never been to before. All the while, we were visiting with friends and family. We got to speak in more than 70 places to share about the good things happening in Yangon, Myanmar. It was quite the whirlwind.

From mid-May to mid-June, we just focused on family, soaking in every possible moment with our loved ones. One of the highlights of this time was the wedding of CJ’s brother, Joe, to his beautiful wife Lori. It was such a special time and we were so happy to be included in their festivities.

We arrived back in Southeast Asia on June 12.

We spent our first days back trying to find a new place to live. It was not a happy time and one that I don’t want to spend time reflecting back on. However, the Lord did bless us with a house that meets our family’s needs in the most perfect location, and that’s what we remember. We did learn a lot through the process as challenging as it was, and if anything we came out stronger and more grateful. ‘Nuff said.

Once we were in the new house and settled, we hit the ground running. We spent many of those early days back in Myanmar reconnecting with our local friends and spending time with our house groups and their leaders.

Also during our first month back, we had two new co-workers arrive, Leah and Julia, from Missouri. Not only have they been extremely dedicated and energetic in the “work” but they have also become like family to our girls and us.

We’ve also done a bit of traveling during these months back in this part of the world. We visited Nyaung Shwe and Taunggyi in Shan State as a family. Mia and I went with Leah and Julia to visit ancient Bagan and Mount Popa. Of course we’ve been to Bangkok, Thailand (where we have to go to renew our visas) but we also took a 20-year anniversary trip to Phuket. It was one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen.

I got to go to a women’s conference at picturesque Inle Lake and then we had our “Serving the Servants” partner conference in Ngwe Saung at the beach in Myanmar. We’ve enjoyed the traveling and seeing new places in this amazing country where we live.

In the midst of all this, I started working on a Masters degree at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary through their distance learning program, and I’ve been homeschooling Zoë (in 10^th grade) and Miá (in 6^th grade.) I finished my semester with a 4.0 and the girls both made all A’s and B’s – although it was not easy, let me tell ‘ya!

We had some guests visit us in these last few weeks. John and Cheryl Blackmon spent a little over a week with us here in Yangon at the end of November. They brought us goodies from America and Christmas presents from our families. They even brought us Chick-Fil-A sandwiches! They worked alongside us and encouraged our brothers and sisters here. They reminded us of many back home who are interceding for us on a regular basis, and we were so uplifted by their time spent with us.

In December we had a Hispanic volunteer team come to help us with our Christmas “parties” that we would put on in places all over our city. 

Through time spent on our knees, CJ felt led by Father to do Christmas outreaches in 12 different places. When CJ first told me that he wanted to do 12, I thought he must be crazy. I can’t even begin to explain all the work, effort and preparation that goes into pulling even just one of these outreaches off. And he wanted to do 12!!

But with the help of the volunteer team, Leah and Julia, and our local friends and partners we did complete 12 Christmas outreach events. It was exhausting, but yet so amazing. Through these events we were able to share the Good News with more than 2500 people including more than 2000 first time hearers. Having just finished our 12^th event yesterday, I’m still in awe over it all. We saw many make decisions and some were even dunked. Because of such amazing response in one particular area, we have the beginnings of a new house group there. Talk about ending on a high note…

Looking forward to 2016, I just can’t imagine what all He has in store for us.

There are some things I’m praying for. I’m praying our family will be able to come visit us. I’m praying that more folks in America will feel burdened to come on short trips here. I’m praying that Father will send some people for a longer-term investment here.

Of course, I’m praying that more and more people in our city will come to know my Father and that new house groups would begin.

I’m praying for another successful term in seminary and for my girls’ schooling.

It looks like 2016 is going to include more traveling as well. Next week, Mia and I will be making a trip to Karen State and then our family is going to Chiang Mai, Thailand for a conference in mid-January.

Also each year, I pray for a theme-verse. I pray that Father would challenge me with a passage that I will continue to study and share and that I can focus on throughout the year. This year, Father has given me Psalm 86:11-12 which says, “Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name. I will praise you, Lord, my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever.” I am looking forward to examining the many aspects of this particular passage in the midst of other Good Book readings and discovering all that He might teach me in the coming year.

2016. Wow, how time flies.

But isn’t this amazing roller coaster of a life that He has given us so exciting? Ok, I know it’s not always exciting in a fun way. Sometimes there are really hard times that we have to go through. Even though I might not share them all, trust me, we’ve had more than our fair amount of challenges. But with every challenge, comes blessing. Psalm 84 concludes with “blessed is the man who trusts in you.”

Whatever comes in 2016, I will trust. I will trust and have faith.

The important thing is that we get on the roller coaster, right? We can’t just stand there waiting to get on board, we have to get in, strap on, and go. Where will your roller coaster take you? I promise that if you trust in Him, it will take you to places you’ve never imagined. Let’s go!

Ginger!

This precious pup came to be a part of our family on September 16 of this year. She is a toy poodle, and she was imported to our country from Thailand. Although she doesn't speak Thai or Burmese for that matter. (At least not yet - she's learning...)
Currently she's a little over three months old and she loves exploring outside and learning new tricks. More than anything she likes to cuddle. Her favorite place to be is snuggling in our laps.
She is so sweet and brings so much fun to our days.
Welcome Ginger to the Johnson family!

Wah Soh

It was late on Saturday night when we heard the bell on our front gate ring.

I called for CJ saying, “Anyone coming to our house at this time of night is definitely going to need to talk to the man of the house.”

But I was wrong.

It was a sweet little lady that lives across the street from us. She was so shy as she handed us a fancy, printed invitation card.  Of course it was all written in Burmese, but I could clearly make out the names of her and her husband, her address and a time/date for whatever it was she was inviting us to.

“What is this for?” I asked her, knowing it couldn’t be a wedding. I thought maybe it was an anniversary party.

“It’s called a Wah Soh,” she replied in her native tongue. “Please come,” she said as she walked away.

Neither CJ nor myself knew what a Wah Soh was. Thankfully we were able to ask some other local friends at church the next day.

Our friends explained that a Wah Soh is a Buddhist celebration where people have monks come to their house for a blessing, and they invite all their friends and neighbors to come as well.

Our friends also said that as Christians, they never attended these events.

I didn’t need too much temptation to make me not want to get all dressed up for a Buddhist festival at 9 o’clock the next morning. But then when our friends explained that the people hosting the festival feed everyone who comes, CJ was all in.

“Come on,” he persuaded me. “It will be a good cultural experience.”

Of course our neighbors know we are Christian, and they knew we wouldn’t be doing any worshipping of the monks. They still invited us as a sign of friendship.

We have been trying to build relationships with our neighbors these past couple months that we’ve lived in this part of the city. I’ve been enjoying talking with the other moms who live on our street. They all sit in plastic chairs in the road while the children run around and play. CJ also spends time with the men who like to congregate near a little snack vendor on our block.

Being that we are the first foreigners to live in this area, they all seemed a little leery at first to talk with us. But we’ve invited them into our home. We’ve asked them for advice about this or that – like which market to shop at nearby or the best time of day to pump water, etc. We’ve played with their kids, and we brought them small presents from our trips to other places.

They have begun talking to us more now, and they seem to be a little more at ease around us. They just can’t believe that we don’t eat rice three times a day, and they don’t understand the concept of kids having a bed time. They seem to enjoy marveling at our cultural differences.

I was unsure if we were truly making any headway with them at all, but then the Wah Soh invitation came.

Did you ever get that feeling as a kid when someone you didn’t know real well invited you to their birthday party? Didn’t it make you feel accepted despite the number times you had embarrassed yourself on the playground?

Well, that’s how I felt when we received that invitation.

I felt a little like Sally Fields when she got her Oscar – They like us! They really, really like us!

Still when the time for the party came, I was very nervous. Anytime you do something for the first time, it’s bound to cause some butterflies, let alone a first time cross-cultural experience which provides even more opportunities to make a fool of yourself.

I wanted to make sure we didn’t appear disrespectful due to such a great difference of beliefs. I knew the Wah Soh would be an opportunity to see more about what Buddhists believe and how they worship first-hand. I felt like if we went and respectfully listened to their beliefs, they might even be more willing to listen to ours when we share with them about JC.

So we went.

Of course everyone in Southeast Asia arrives late. It was helpful living right across the street so I could see when people started arriving 30 minutes after the time printed on the invitation.

We greeted our neighbors as we walked into their house, and we were hurried to an open upstairs room where the monks had just started their chanting. There was a room full of people, packed in with just enough room for each person to sit cross-legged. Zoe and I squeezed into a spot along the back wall. CJ was ushered up closer to the front with the other men. (Mia remained at home with a guest who had been staying with us a couple days.)

The monks held long-stemmed flowers with streamers pressed between their hands. They chanted in unison as they kneeled in front of a small, golden Buddha statue in a glass case. Every so often they would say something that the people would repeat, and they all bowed their face to the ground with their hands pressed together at their foreheads.

The people didn’t seem to care that we just sat there watching. Actually, I was silently praying for each person that I could lay my eyes on around the room. I was praying that they would each come to know the Truth, and that they would give their hearts to Him.

We sat through about 30 minutes of the chanting before we excused ourselves.

They insisted we eat before we left. It was really delicious chicken and rice with a curry soup, so we didn’t mind.

We sat and chatted with our neighbors’ daughters for awhile. The family seemed so happy that we came.

Later that day, long after the celebration was over and all the guests had left, the father of the family brought over to our house several containers of left-over food. I thought that was so sweet.

These years we’ve lived in this beautiful city, we’ve worked so hard to assimilate among the people so that we can share Father’s message in ways that the people will receive it. We try to speak their language. We try to dress like them. We try to live among them.

We don’t just want to be some foreigners with a foreign religion.

How can we ever attempt to provide a bridge to the Truth if we live separated and as aliens to the people?

Just like when we’ve visited the local pagodas and we’ve seen the people bowing down there to man-made idols, the Wah Soh was another reminder of the urgency of our mission.

Can it also serve as another reminder to you to pray? Pray for us, of course! But also will you intercede for the people of this city? Pray that their hearts would be open to the Saving Message and that they would receive Him.

Until all have heard!