It was never about the work. Nine days can't build or fix much. But they can change the person who goes, and coming back eleven years later, I think that's the point. What I'm taking home isn't a list of things we did. It's a longer look at things I'd stopped noticing.

Thailand is a mustard seed. In Mark 4 it's the smallest seed, easy to overlook, and that's how faith looks here: small, unnoticed, planted in hard ground. But the faith I watched take root has a strength that puts my own comfortable, well-fed faith to shame. It grows into something far bigger than it looks.

A faith that actually costs something. What I can't stop thinking about is how differently faith costs in the two places I know. In Thailand, following Christ can mean going against your culture, sometimes your family, even your livelihood. I keep thinking about the man Ajan Jed disciples, who sells idols for a living and is weighing whether to give that up for Jesus. Faith there costs something, so the faith that's left is real and tested. In California, being a Christian is easy and expected, and I came home wondering how much that comfort has quietly cost me.

The Thai believers didn't just teach me about Thailand; they showed me something about myself. That's what I want to hold onto, and I hope it actually changes how I live once this trip is only a memory.