In my mailbox just now was perhaps the best Christmas present I’ve received. A mangled, smeared envelope from Thailand containing a Christmas card, a photo, and a letter. It was from Im Jai House, the Christian orphanage I visited last summer as part of a missions team to Thailand. I’ve not yet written about this trip, an experience of soul-stirring resonance, because I know I lack the eloquence to do it justice. Yet in the aftermath of the horror in Southeast Asia, my heart can’t help but be drawn to the friends I met over there. The photo was a group shot of all 50 kids and staff. I saw the faces of the children I’d clowned with, danced with, eaten with, played cards with. The children I’d watched swim, half-dressed and happy, in what My Beloved and I dubbed “The Mocha River.” The children had nothing but love to give and it’s the thing they wanted most from us. Even as I write this, I’m thousands of miles away.
Here’s a quote from the letter:
“We are really thankful to God that the children donated money to help build a house for a widow. They had been saving this money for a long time to help the poor. We were praying that the Lord would show us where to give the money. The children also donated food and items to help another orphanage.
“Even though we are poor, we teach the children to help the people who are more in need than us.”
I don’t believe the timing of this letter is an accident.
“Help the people who are more in need than us.”