Naplese Thanksgiving: Check!

My first Thanksgiving away from home was...amazing. My day started as it normally does, 4:45 I roll out of bed, boil some water for coffee and spend time in devotions. Our ministry day began earlier than normal. 7 we left for our contacts house, a mile from our home. Wrong house. Mile there, mile back, half mile to the right place. Oh, did I mention the hills here in Kathmandu, they definitely give you a good leg work out. We arrive 45 minutes late; we Westerners are very upset and frustrated, we hate being late. The Agape ministry we are working with greets us and laughs, thankful we finally arrived!

After futball, we gave rice and chicken soup to all the kids and
shared a skit about the armor of God.

Our morning ministry was futball with the slum boys. It was very organized. The little kids played in one part of the large open field and the older kids played on the other. I joined the older boys, about ages 13-18. We split into 3 teams. Dilip, our contact, explained the rules which all the boys knew, prayed, then began the game. We would play for 10 minutes or the first team to score would win, then the losing team sat down and the team sitting out would play the winning team. This went on for about 3 hours. Despite being slum kids, they all arrived at the field, then went and changed into their soccer jerseys and shorts which were extremely clean and well kept. It was one of the most clean soccer games I have ever seen.

Me with part of my futball team and some younger boys.

It was interesting to watch the older boys then be with the younger boys. The younger boys were extremely violent. They would just punch, wrestle, and curse at each other. Watching the younger boys, it seems very distressing. These boys, maybe age 6, are a reflection of all they know. They know no other life than violence. Hitting each other can be an act of play, an expression of hurt feelings, a way to prove a point, essentially, hitting each other just goes with everything. But then you look at the older boys. The older boys were well organized, they called in a boy from the team sitting out to ref the games, there was no fighting after a team won. Occasionally I would catch the Nepalese word 'ramri', or beautiful; it made me laugh that they would smack talk and call each other 'beautiful'. But it gave me hope that, yes these young boys are violent, but nobody is stuck. There is always time for change and growth. No person is helpless or hopeless, they simply need someone who is willing to invest in a relationship with them.

Last night Hannah and I made the Thanksgiving dinner. It was tricky. We struggled because most
 American recipes call for butter, lots of butter. So, we spoiled the group and bought butter. We have a limited amount of utensils, as in for dinner I ate with my hands because we do not have enough spoons and forks for all 9 of us (I also like using my hands, something very acceptable here). We only have 2 propane burners to work from as well, no oven. Somehow we managed to make frozen corn and peas, chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. The mashed potatoes were an effort. We only had a broken whisk; I partly whisked, partly fork mashed and partly hand mashed the potatoes. But they had buffalo milk and butter in them, kind of like America. The gravy was chicken bouillon soup and some flour that is nothing like our flour back in the states. For dessert we tried to make butterscotch roos, but for a bag of about 1 pound of sugar cost $17 American dollars, so we used butter and crystallized brown sugar that made caramel, we had to use off brand chocolate ricecrispes that were a bit stale and some sugar free corn flakes. For some reason Hannah brought butterscotch chips to Nepal and I had a jar of Skippy peanut butter. Peanut butter here comes in small jars and is very expensive, and they do not sell chocolate chips here. We had only two coffee tables to eat on and no chairs. Somehow, it all worked together.

I could easily say this made me thankful for all the things I have back in the states, yet none of that came to my mind. I was so focused on how much fun it was to cook with Hannah. I was caught in this moment of extreme love. The 9 of us are a family. We bicker with each other, we make fun of each other's smelly poop, we wash clothes with each other, we pray with each other, we love each other.

Kev, Jenny, Kat, Chel, Kreu, Hannah, Me, Vacheral. The
wonderful family with Teresa taking the photo.

For me, the big lesson I learned this Thanksgiving, was to be appreciative where I am at with what I have. It does not do to focus on all the things God blessed me with back home, that is being thankful for the past and for the future when I return to those things. I discovered how thankful I was for the present. No American football, but I was welcomed in by a bunch of slum boys to play futball. No glass of A&E milk, but we had buffalo milk in the mashed potatoes. No chairs to sit on, but I am so thankful for the blankets we did have to cover our cold tile floor. No Macy's Day Parade, but our neighbors across the street had a wedding which included a parade, complete with dancing, trumpets, drums and a tuba that lasted at least an hour.

When I stop and think about it, I do not understand how we all wound up in Nepal. We come from all different backgrounds with different stories, but we all share a deep passion for the Lord. Being under the shadow of the cross I see only testimonies. The crazy plans God laid out for us before we were even a thought to our parents, before our parents were even a though to their parents, brought us together. I am overwhelmingly thankful for the divine appointments God predestined for me.