Dear Dad.

Thank you.
Thank you for awaiting my arrival with excitement and for wanting me.
Thank you for caring - for every nappy changed and every book read. (Especially the countless readings of apple tree farm.)
Thank you for playing with me, listening to me and laughing with me.
Thank you for helping me with my homework and never pressuring me to do more than I could, but believing in me.
Thank you for taking me running - even though I complained profusely.
Thank you for teaching me about God since the moment I was born, and for not only teaching me but showing me what a Christian life looks like.
Thank you for the way you love mum - and for showing me what a good husband looks like so I might choose a good man for myself one day.
Thank you for disciplining me in a firm but gracious way.
Thank you for never beating me. For never allowing anger to take over. For never abandoning me.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being a father.

The longer I live here, the more my heart breaks for the lack of good men my kids have in their lives. Please pray for them.

Torn.

Some days, I miss home. I miss my friends and I miss being a normal 17 year old. I miss my home and my family. Some days - I just want to sit with my best friends, and talk for hours about nothing in particular. I want to be able to stay up all night, and still make it through the next day. I want to be carefree. I want to pick up my phone and be able to talk to whoever I want to, without figuring out time differences. I want to go to friends' birthday meals - instead of having to call for 5 minutes. I want to be there when my friends hurt. I don't want to be on the other side of the world. I miss feeling comfortable and at home. If I'm truly honest - there are some days where I just don't want to be here.
But I know. I know, that when the time comes to leave, I'll be heartbroken. I know that I'll miss seeing 30 beautiful, little faces look up at me every morning. (Alright - well 29. Only one is taller...) I know that I'll miss the funny things they say and the way they make me laugh. I'll miss their sweet voices and the way that I only ever understand half of what they're saying - if I'm lucky. I'll miss sitting with them while they cry and I'll miss being able to comfort them. I will miss being a part of their lives and knowing that, even if only for a short time, I am blessed to be in their lives. And I'll miss my room mates. I will miss their encouragement, friendship and wisdom. I will miss knowing that they understand. I will miss the 9 months that will have so quickly gone by.
Dundee is home, but I know that it won't feel like home when I go back. Not exactly. Things change, and people change. I know myself that I have already changed. Thailand doesn't feel like home. I do not belong. So I am torn. I am homesick for a place that is no longer truly home. And I am living in a place that never will be home. And then I remember. I remember that I was not made for this world. It's okay if it doesn't feel like home. In fact, I don't want to ever feel at home. Because this is not my home. I am only on this earth for a short while. I want to be homesick for heaven. For my true home.

These two are so sweet.

Children are honest. They will tell you what they think, and very rarely do they play mind games and try to make you feel better, or do something because it is expected of them. They understand the rules - but anything done beyond that, usually depends on their own opinions. This is why when they think you look beautiful, they'll tell you. And when they don't think your outfit is so great that day, they will tell you and proceed to try and fix it. I of course, speak from experience. If they are upset with another child, they will make sure we know about it. If they think they've done a really good job on something, they will make sure we acknowledge that. If they don't understand, they ask 'why'. They are not afraid of being different. They are not afraid of doing what they want.
The older we get - the less honest we become. We develop filters and fears. I am not saying this is a bad thing - but in this case, I rejoice in this unfiltered honesty.
One of our second graders became a Christian on Friday night. He is fairly new to our school and is living with his aunt and uncle because his mother is working in Bangkok. His aunt and uncle are Christians and have been doing devotions with him every night. On Friday night he was talking with his uncle about how some of his friends at school are Christians and some are Buddhist. His uncle talked with him about it and asked him 'Well, which do you want to be?' 'I want to be a Christian!'. And so, his uncle prayed with him.
He did this because he wanted to. He did this because he saw the hope and light that comes with salvation. Some may say he's too young, he doesn't understand. Yet, God says the complete opposite. He tells us to have child-like faith and let the children come to Him. He welcomes them with open arms.
I wish my faith was like the faith of this little boy. Honest and unfiltered. Without fear.
He is so full of joy and makes us laugh all the time. His noise effects are particularly famous amongst the teachers, and he has such a sweet heart.