For Rivendell Foundation:

“And LORD, please show us a way, as a family, to show your love the poor. We need to know more about living sacrificially and service. We want to somehow make a difference in the lives of the underprivileged that requires more from us than going on a short mission trip to another country, or simply writing a check.”

It had been a nightly part of my bedtime prayers with my younger son for more than a year. My boys are now in their teens, and have been ministry kids their entire lives. As they get nearer to jumping out of the nest, I’ve been more and more desperate for them to live a life of faith that requires some sacrifice on their part.

You see, our ministry here in Singapore is primarily coaching and empowering spiritual leaders in thriving churches and mission organizations. It is not the kind of missions that brings over short term groups from home churches in North America. No one comes to Singapore to roll up their sleeves and build a house for the homeless, or make improvements to the local orphanage or give nutrition lessons or vitamin A shots to prevent blindness in malnourished babies. Here in Singapore, we’re geographically situated where natural disasters are not likely to happen. The city/state of Singapore is a nation that is growing in it’s own resources and commitment to relief and missions and sending teams out from here as if we are the “Antioch of Asia.”

Having lived in a city in China, in our first two years of language study, my boys have seen the destitute. However, we rarely did more than play in the park with them or briefly practice our fledgling Mandarin. We made friends with educated Chinese. We mixed with homeowners, not street vendors.

These past 11 years in first-world Singapore we’ve chosen to live in the suburbs of government high-rise housing, but 90+% of the nation lives like this. The interiors of these apartments vary widely. The “haves” and the “have nots” are not usually extremely a “have” or a “not.” We all purchase our vegetables and fresh meat together in the local wet market, but even most Singaporean neighbors don’t befriend the Hawkers. I chat each morning with the coffee man, and know the grocery clerks by name. I teach baking to the twin daughters of the video store owner, and share children’s books with the younger son. But we haven’t shared many meals with any of them. There are the day laborers from Sri Lanka or Burma or Bangladesh who keep the public grounds clean. We can’t speak with them in their languages, but can share a thank you and smile with each day.

So, you see, even though we’re missionaries ourselves, and even perhaps seen as “the needy” to some of my expat friends or donors, these boys of ours are growing up with the sense of entitlement I hate in myself.

And then, after living here more than a year, she started following me home. Yi Hui, the little neighborhood stray child who never spoke to anyone and didn’t seem to have a friend or family. If she engaged you, it was to stick out her tongue and stare. When we bought a puppy a year ago, something changed. She was very attracted to him whenever she would see him out on a walk. Finally one day when I greeted her with “Jack”, she opened up. She does speak! I was glad to have learned Mandarin so that we could converse.

We were gone for most of the summer in 2010; a college road trip, and quick visit to family and supporters stateside before the CRM Worldwide conference in Langkawi Malaysia. But when we returned in August, she started showing up everyday, on the playground, following me home, entering my home. She’d tell me that there was no one at home to look after her until late at night. She’d change the subject if I started asking about her family. She’d tell me she was hungry. I started earnestly digging in to finding out who her guardians are and what the details are about her schooling, and her developmental delays and low IQ. As she became a daily fixture in the Creasman’s home I asked the LORD for wisdom in boundaries. As clear as if it were an audible voice, and without a moment’s hesitation I heard our Saviour say, “If you’ve done it unto the least of these, you’ve done it for me.”

Now it’s a few weeks later, I’ve met most of the family, and it’s messy. As we navigate tricky relationships with elderly housebound Chinese grandparents, the school and Singapore’s social services system, I’m hearing more resistant voices. The voices of my sons.

“She’s so ANNOYING!” complains my 13 year old.

“She’s the answer to our prayers.” I reply and tease him that she’s forcing him to practice his rusty Chinese, and making him (our notorious “C-” student on a good week), seem like an academic superstar in comparison. “I know it’s inconvenient for you, but God has brought her to us and you get to model his love to her. She is the key who is opening relationships throughout the neighborhood. People here are coming to know Jesus partly because they see Jesus in you when you show kindness to her.”

When she showed up at 7AM today (the local school has the day off), it was before my older one had even gotten out of bed. Pulling the covers over his head he complained completely straight, “Why doesn’t she get a life and find some real parents?” I hit him with a pillow. Both of my boys managed to escape the house before I was ready with the dog for his morning walk to school…today with an 11 year old girl tagging along.

“Come upstairs with me to meet her family.” I asked my 17 year old son who’s in the midst of college applications and his last year of playing American football. “Mother,” he said, “You choose your own path.”

“Yes, that is true; but my path will always affect YOUR path, so it might be nice for you to get on board.” He rolled his eyes, but showed up at their door 20 minutes later and wowed them with his immaculate Chinese and manners. He even kissed me goodbye in front of them when he headed off with a friend.

When we were all sitting around the table at lunch after church on Sunday (she went to church for the second week in a row) they both were joking and complaining over the weekend about being embarrassed by me bringing her along. I surprised even me and started to cry for the first time in a long time. Both boys instantly shaped up and turned tender and apologized and came nearer to me to sit close. Little Yi Hui was inbetween it all and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all, but you can bet it made an impression on her. It sure did on my boys. They turned a bit of a corner in their attitude about and toward her. Perhaps even toward me. Even better if toward God.

It’s been a season of relative isolation for me. God’s called me away from my long-term commitments in teaching drama or working on theatre projects for churches, or having regular mentoring groups. I’ve been clearing my calendar from nearly all activities but personal ministry with artists I’ve mentored for a long while, one focused living couples group, a church home group and a women’s Bible Study. It seems I’m losing my life-long passion for theatre. I’m a high energy, creative person and have a half dozen ideas a day of what can be done in ministry. I used to act on many of those ideas . My husband has called me the “Tazmanian Devil.” However, recently my favorite activity has been simply “Listening Prayer.” I’ve drawn near to Christ and for the first time in a long life of being an active Christian I have the joy of learning to be idle; abiding in him and waiting on him. The only ongoing creative endeavor I’ve begun in the past year has been strangely to take up playing the piano. Not ordinary piano class. No, I sensed this strange call to learn how to play children’s songs on the piano and get more domestic in my late 40’s. And now I know why: Yi Hui loves music and is learning spelling and rules for behavior if put to simple tunes.

Would it surprise you to know that she has been the key to opening up new opportunities to share the Gospel DAILY in my mostly Buddhist or Agnostic neighborhood? Of course not.

Would it surprise you to know that since I locked the front door in order to write this story down, she’s been knocking on the door and trying the door knob to get in the whole time? Maybe. 

I think I'll go answer it.