The Yes Siams

26/10/2026

A WEEK OF JOY, FRIENDSHIP, AND NEW POSSIBILITIES 🇹🇭🇱🇦

A quick update from Patricia and me!

It was a real honour to be invited to speak at the Lao–Isaan Women’s Leadership Conference this past week. And what made it especially meaningful was the location: Nong Khai, where we began our very first church-planting ministry back in 1993.

In those early days, we dreamed of one day having a ministry in Laos. Sadly, it never happened. Our finances were limited, and Laos was very restricted under the communist government at that time.

But the dream of building relationships with the Lao people never disappeared.

Over the years, meetings were held in Nong Khai, sometimes with young people from Laos and at other times with women crossing the border to join us. Much of this connection was built through the faithful work of Pastor Daeng, the wife of Pastor Manit. She regularly visited Laos and developed deep friendships within the Lao community.

The fruit we witnessed this past week owes so much to her faithfulness and the relationships she has built over the years. It was wonderful to see those seeds bearing fruit!

There was so much joy, fellowship, and appreciation throughout the conference. Our talented pastors led the worship band, and the women themselves led us in singing. I was deeply moved by their devotion and enthusiasm.

Patricia and I also had the privilege of teaching together. We don’t often do that, but it turns out we make a pretty good team! 😊 We were encouraged to hear how much the women appreciated not only the teaching itself but also the encouragement and motivation behind it.

We’re so glad we said YES to this opportunity!

And the story doesn’t end here.

Plans are already underway to expand the conference next year. We have a speaker from Canada in mind, and we’re praying that she will be able to join us and be a blessing to these women.

The budget will likely grow from around US$3,000 to perhaps US$6,000. What is particularly encouraging is that much of this will be contributed by the women themselves. They are investing in their own growth and in the future of women’s leadership in their communities. We hope to provide some additional financial encouragement to help make the expanded conference possible.

If you would like to be part of this ministry next year, please let me know. I’ll keep you updated as the plans develop!

A LITTLE PERSONAL STORY TO FINISH…

Thank you to everyone who prayed for us during this time. I did my teaching in Thai, which is always a challenge, while Patricia taught with the help of a translator.

And here’s a wonderful connection with our past.

Our translator was just a little girl when we first arrived in Nong Khai in 1993. Her father was one of the pastors whose church I visited back then. Even as a young girl, she stood out to me as someone with special gifts.

Apparently, I even prophesied that one day she would become a translator!

Well, that day finally came during our conference. And she did a wonderful job! We were so proud of her. What a joy to see someone we knew as a child now using her gifts to serve others.

It’s moments like these that remind us that ministry is about so much more than what we can accomplish in the moment. It’s about relationships, faithfulness, and seeds planted over many years — sometimes without knowing what they will eventually become.

We came away grateful, encouraged, and full of hope for what lies ahead.

Thank you for praying, supporting, and walking alongside us. There is still so much to be done, and it’s a privilege to be part of it! ❤️

หนึ่งสัปดาห์แห่งความสุข มิตรภาพ และความหวังสำหรับอนาคต 🇹🇭🇱🇦

ขอมาเล่าข่าวคราวสั้น ๆ จากผมกับแพทริเซียครับ!

เป็นเกียรติอย่างยิ่งที่เราได้รับเชิญให้ไปร่วมแบ่งปันและสอนในการประชุมผู้นำสตรีลาว–อีสานเมื่อสัปดาห์ที่ผ่านมา ที่สำคัญกว่านั้นคือ การประชุมครั้งนี้จัดขึ้นที่หนองคาย ซึ่งเป็นสถานที่ที่เราเริ่มงานบุกเบิกคริสตจักรแห่งแรกในประเทศไทยเมื่อปี 1993

ในช่วงแรก ๆ ที่เรามาถึง เราเคยฝันว่า วันหนึ่งเราจะมีโอกาสทำพันธกิจในประเทศลาวด้วย แต่สุดท้ายความฝันนั้นก็ไม่ได้เกิดขึ้นจริง ในเวลานั้นเรามีทุนทรัพย์จำกัด และประเทศลาวก็มีข้อจำกัดมากมายภายใต้การปกครองของรัฐบาลคอมมิวนิสต์

แต่ความฝันที่จะสร้างความสัมพันธ์กับพี่น้องชาวลาวไม่เคยหายไปครับ

ตลอดหลายปีที่ผ่านมา มีการจัดประชุมที่หนองคาย โดยบางครั้งมีคนหนุ่มสาวจากลาวมาร่วมด้วย และบางครั้งก็มีพี่น้องสตรีเดินทางข้ามมาร่วมประชุม งานส่วนหนึ่งที่สำคัญมากนี้เกิดจากความทุ่มเทของศิษยาภิบาลแดง ภรรยาของศิษยาภิบาลมานิตย์ ท่านเดินทางไปลาวอยู่เสมอ และสร้างมิตรภาพที่แน่นแฟ้นกับพี่น้องชาวลาวมาอย่างต่อเนื่อง

สิ่งที่เราได้เห็นและชื่นชมในสัปดาห์ที่ผ่านมา เป็นผลจากความซื่อสัตย์และความทุ่มเทของท่าน รวมถึงความสัมพันธ์ที่ท่านได้สร้างไว้ตลอดหลายปีที่ผ่านมา เป็นความยินดีอย่างยิ่งที่ได้เห็นเมล็ดพันธุ์เหล่านั้นเกิดผลครับ!

ตลอดการประชุมเต็มไปด้วยความสุข มิตรภาพ และความชื่นชมยินดี บรรดาศิษยาภิบาลที่มีความสามารถของเราได้ร่วมกันนำวงดนตรีนมัสการ ส่วนพี่น้องสตรีก็เป็นผู้นำร้องเพลงด้วยตัวเอง ผมรู้สึกประทับใจมากที่ได้เห็นความรักพระเจ้าและความตั้งใจในการนมัสการของพวกเธอ

อีกสิ่งหนึ่งที่พิเศษสำหรับเราคือ ผมกับแพทริเซียได้มีโอกาสสอนร่วมกัน เราไม่ได้ทำแบบนี้บ่อยนัก แต่ดูเหมือนว่าเราจะทำงานเป็นทีมได้ดีทีเดียวครับ! 😊 เรายิ่งมีกำลังใจเมื่อได้ยินว่าพี่น้องสตรีประทับใจทั้งเนื้อหาที่เราแบ่งปัน และกำลังใจที่อยู่เบื้องหลังคำสอนเหล่านั้นด้วย

เราดีใจจริง ๆ ที่ตอบรับคำเชิญในครั้งนี้!

และเรื่องราวดี ๆ ยังไม่จบเพียงเท่านี้ครับ

ตอนนี้เริ่มมีการวางแผนที่จะขยายการประชุมในปีหน้าแล้ว เรามีวิทยากรสตรีจากแคนาดาคนหนึ่งอยู่ในใจ และกำลังอธิษฐานขอให้เธอสามารถมาร่วมงานและเป็นพระพรแก่พี่น้องสตรีเหล่านี้ได้

หากใครสนใจอยากมีส่วนร่วมในพันธกิจนี้ในปีหน้า บอกเราได้เลยนะครับ ผมจะคอยอัปเดตความคืบหน้าให้ทราบเมื่อแผนงานชัดเจนขึ้น!

ขอปิดท้ายด้วยเรื่องราวส่วนตัวเล็ก ๆ เรื่องหนึ่งครับ…

ขอบคุณทุกคนที่อธิษฐานเผื่อเราในช่วงเวลาที่ผ่านมา ผมสอนเป็นภาษาไทย ซึ่งก็เป็นความท้าทายสำหรับผมอยู่เสมอ ส่วนแพทริเซียสอนผ่านล่ามครับ

และเรื่องที่น่าประทับใจคือ ล่ามของเราเป็นเพียงเด็กผู้หญิงตัวเล็ก ๆ ตอนที่เรามาถึงหนองคายครั้งแรกในปี 1993 ตอนนั้นพ่อของเธอเป็นศิษยาภิบาลคนหนึ่งในคริสตจักรที่ผมเคยไปเยี่ยม แม้เธอยังเป็นเด็ก แต่ผมก็มองเห็นแล้วว่าเธอเป็นเด็กที่มีพรสวรรค์พิเศษ

เท่าที่จำได้ ผมเคยพูดเชิงเผยพระวจนะด้วยว่า วันหนึ่งเธอจะได้เป็นล่าม!

และในที่สุด วันนั้นก็มาถึงจริง ๆ ในการประชุมครั้งนี้ เธอทำหน้าที่ได้ดีมากครับ! เราภูมิใจในตัวเธอจริง ๆ เป็นความชื่นใจที่ได้เห็นเด็กผู้หญิงที่เราเคยรู้จักเมื่อหลายสิบปีก่อน เติบโตขึ้นมาและใช้ของประทานที่พระเจ้าประทานให้เพื่อรับใช้ผู้อื่น

ช่วงเวลาแบบนี้เตือนใจเราว่า พันธกิจไม่ได้วัดกันเพียงสิ่งที่เราทำสำเร็จในวันนี้เท่านั้น แต่ยังเกี่ยวข้องกับความสัมพันธ์ ความซื่อสัตย์ และเมล็ดพันธุ์ที่เราได้หว่านไว้ตลอดหลายปีที่ผ่านมา บางครั้งเราอาจไม่รู้ด้วยซ้ำว่า วันหนึ่งเมล็ดพันธุ์เหล่านั้นจะเกิดผลอย่างไร

เรากลับมาด้วยหัวใจที่เต็มไปด้วยความขอบคุณ กำลังใจ และความหวังสำหรับสิ่งที่จะเกิดขึ้นต่อไปครับ

ขอบคุณทุกคนที่อธิษฐาน สนับสนุน และร่วมเดินไปกับเราเสมอมา ยังมีงานอีกมากที่รออยู่ และเรารู้สึกเป็นเกียรติอย่างยิ่งที่ได้เป็นส่วนหนึ่งของพันธกิจนี้ครับ ❤️

23/10/2026

✨ A LIGHT THAT KEEPS SHINING — Nong Khai, 1993–1994 ✨

Nong Khai was our first church-planting experience in Thailand, back in 1993–1994. We spent two years there, and today, one of the very first families who came to faith through that time of ministry came to visit us and say hello! They now live in Chonburi and attend a local church there.

But it’s the story of their children that really moves us. ❤️

Three of their children were sponsored through Child Care Plus back in the 1990s. Today, those three are a nurse, a medical technician, and a teacher!

Just think about that for a moment. Lives changed, futures opened up, and hope passed on—all through the love and generosity of our Canadian churches.

What a privilege it is to see the fruit of that love, more than 30 years later!

Today, we feel so grateful and proud to be carriers of God’s precious light. And what a beautiful reminder that when we share His love, the light keeps shining through generations. 🙏✨

21/10/2026

Patricia and I are about to leave for the airport and head to Nong Khai in Northeast Thailand (Isaan), where we planted our first Thai church.

Nong Khai sits right across the Mekong River from Vientiane, Laos. For two years, we literally looked across the river at Laos every day and dreamed, “One day!”

Tomorrow, we’ll be joined by women leaders from across Isaan and by women from Laos. Over the next two and a half days, Patricia and I have the honour of sharing our hearts, our experiences, and some of the things God has taught us along the way.

It’s both a joy and a responsibility we take seriously.

We would deeply appreciate your prayers. Please pray that God would work among us, strengthen these women leaders, and pour out His Spirit in a fresh way.

Our co-worker, Cavell Rowsell, was meant to join us, but sadly she has fallen ill at the last minute. Please keep Cavell in your prayers, too, for healing and a speedy recovery.

"Oh, that God would pour out His Spirit upon us all!"

12/10/2026

We share a long history with the Jai Samarn churches, and it’s always a joy to watch the younger generation step into leadership roles. This branch on Ramkhamhaeng Road 68 went above and beyond to help those affected by the floods. These are the good works that point to our Father in Heaven! May the Lord continue to use them mightily.

เรามีประวัติศาสตร์อันยาวนานร่วมกับคริสตจักรใจสมานเสมอมา เป็นความชื่นชมยินดีเสมอที่ได้เห็นคนรุ่นใหม่ก้าวขึ้นมาเป็นผู้นำในตอนนี้ สาขาบนถนนรามคำแหง 68 แห่งนี้ได้ช่วยเหลือผู้ประสบภัยน้ำท่วมอย่างเต็มที่ สิ่งเหล่านี้คือความดีงามที่ชี้ไปถึงพระบิดาแห่งสรรพสิ่ง ขอองค์พระผู้เป็นเจ้าทรงใช้พวกเขาต่อไปเรื่อยๆ!

04/10/2026

Hi friends!

We're continuing to look at what light does as we reflect on Jesus' words: “Let your light shine.”

In our last post, we talked about "Holy Wonder"—that sense of curiosity that helps us really see the people around us. Light illuminates. It helps us notice what we might otherwise overlook.

But what happens when we draw a little closer?

What happens when we listen to the stories behind the faces we see?

2. Light brings life: Curiosity → Compassion

When curiosity brings us closer to people, something else begins to happen.

"Closeness awakens compassion."

We begin to care about what happens to the people we engage with. Their story becomes connected to ours.

The word *compassion* literally means “to suffer with.”

And maybe that's what makes compassion so difficult for us.

We don't like to suffer.
We'd rather run away.
We'd rather not feel those “feels.”

So true compassion happens when we see someone's pain and don't run away.

We don't immediately try to fix it.

We stay close enough to care.

The strength of compassion is that it moves us from a charity mindset toward a solidarity heartset.

This is part of what made the early church so powerful. Luke tells us in Acts 2:44:

“All the believers were together and had everything in common.”

They weren't simply people who worshipped in the same space and believed the same things. They were serious about **living differently together**—sharing what they had, welcoming one another, and making sure that people who might otherwise be overlooked were cared for.

There is nothing wrong with helping someone from a place of generosity. But compassion invites us to go deeper.

Charity can keep a safe distance. Solidarity moves us closer.

Charity can say, “I want to do something for you.”

Solidarity sits at eye level and says:

“Your life is connected to mine.
Your flourishing matters to me.
I don't just want to do something FOR you;
I am willing to share life WITH you.”

That's what happens when light gets closer.

We don't just see people.
We begin to see them as neighbors.

And perhaps that's when light begins to bring life.

Let us tell you another story:

A few weeks ago, Patricia and I sat on a heavily carpeted floor—with carpets lining the walls too—sharing dinner with two Afghan families at a local Lebanese spot here in Bangkok.

The moment the food arrived and everyone lowered themselves to the floor, I knew my body was in trouble! A tall Canadian man with aging knees trying to sit cross-legged on a carpet for two hours is a comedic sight—and everyone in the room thoroughly enjoyed watching me try to adjust!

In that warm, relaxed room, I asked our beautiful Muslim friends if I could offer a prayer of blessing over our meal. As I prayed, I was struck with pure holy wonder at the ridiculous beauty of God’s geography—how God had drawn Canadians and Afghans together in the middle of Bangkok to break bread over a Lebanese spread.

There was much openness and joy in that room. But underneath the laughter, I believe something much deeper was taking place.

One of the families—a couple with six children—began to unpack their journey. They had fled Afghanistan, endured a grueling, dangerous passage through Vietnam, and navigated the dense jungles of Cambodia to reach the Thai border—only to be arrested immediately upon arrival.
They were split up—men on one side, women and children on the other—and spent the next six months separated inside the Immigration Detention Center.

Six months. Sitting across from them, hearing what those children endured, we could hardly listen without tears welling up in my eyes.

That evening, Patricia and I had to face a sober, humbling reality: We couldn't undo the trauma they had survived. We couldn't wave a magic wand or speed up their ten-year asylum process. We couldn't fix the systemic machinery keeping them in limbo.

But we could sit with them. We could eat with them. We could listen with our whole hearts.

So, yes, that evening we prayed, passed around plates of grilled lamb, fragrant rice, and fresh naan, and simply shared life together.

And perhaps that is the very heart of compassion.

Sometimes light isn't a grand program. Sometimes it isn't a neat solution.
Sometimes shining the light simply looks like easing your aging knees down onto a carpet, sharing a meal, and saying: "You are seen. You are not alone. You have a place here."

02/10/2026

Jeremiah 29:7 hit us right where we live in Bangkok:

'Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile...'

Notice that: Jeremiah isn’t writing to tourists who booked a vacation in Babylon. He’s writing to people who felt displaced, displaced from home, floating between worlds. And God says: Don't just wait around until your contract is up. Don't build a private bubble to protect yourself from the noise. Seek the flourishing of this exact place. The people you meet, smile at them. Plant gardens, build homes, step into the street.
Be fully present now.

Presence always comes before programs… Let the city teach you how to serve.

Let me finish by giving you my three movements of light: Curiosity, Compassion, and Love.

And that is where we begin. (Just the first point today...)

1. Light helps us see what is real → Curiosity (Holy Wonder)

Before we can have compassion for anyone, and before we can truly love them, we first have to be willing to become genuinely interested in people.
I want to call this holy wonder, because it sounds like the Christian version of curiosity.

Holy wonder is where the work of shining begins. When we encounter another human being, we don't start with an assessment. We leave judgment in the back room, so to speak. We approach the people in our path with a quiet, open question:

“I wonder what their story is?”

That’s harder than you think. We are hard wired to judge and assess. Literally, neuroscience tells us, in milliseconds we decide if someone is worth knowing or not. It causes us to ask:

“Why are they like that? How could they let themselves get there?”

The first question is holy wonder.

The second one is judgment.

When we lived in Paris, we had a saying among our team: "We know them by their need, but do we know them by their name?" It was a constant reminder to move past surface categories of “the homeless… the poor” and become genuinely interested in the human beings who make up our city. Holy wonder disarms our instinct to evaluate, categorize, and judge.

I’ll never forget meeting Samuel in Paris. (I've told his story here before).

It was mid-winter, and a new tent encampment had sprung up just a fifteen-minute walk from our apartment. We packed up urns of hot tea, coffee, and sandwiches and walked over.

As we approached, a young Black man stuck his head out of a tent flap to see who was coming. My very first impression was instant: This guy is young, handsome, strong.

He looked at us, took in the food, and said simply:
"Thank you for the food. But what we really need help with is warm clothing and shoes."

Now, religious cynicism—the kind that quietly hardens our hearts over time—could have whispered: "See? People always just want more. I can't solve everyone's problems."

But holy wonder paused and asked: "What is really happening here?"

Something about his posture, his calm demeanor, and his quiet dignity stopped me. He wasn't begging. He was organizing. He was taking care of his people. He was leading. And I realized at that moment: I need to know this young man.

That encounter was the beginning of a friendship that lasted for years.
Over long conversations, I learned Samuel's story. He was a former goat herder from Sudan. When his father was killed, Samuel narrowly escaped being forced into service as a child soldier. His family fled into Uganda. As a teenager, he made his way alone to Libya, where his first attempt to cross the water failed with a sunken boat, he was arrested and imprisoned. He eventually had favor with the prison keeper, was released and crossed the Mediterranean to Italy, and finally arrived in Paris.

What resilience. What incredible courage. What an indomitable passion for life.

Sitting across from him, he was no longer a statistic. He was no longer a nameless face in a tent, or a category of people in a geopolitical crisis.

He was Samuel.

That is what holy wonder does. When we let the light of curiosity shine, the internal script changes. We move from a judgmental or assessment posture—"Why are they acting like that?"—to a gentler, grace-filled stance: "I wonder what they have survived."

This probably won't happen with every homeless person we might meet. Don't feel guilty for that. And it doesn't mean we abandon boundaries or excuse every behavior. It simply means we slow down enough to look a little closer, listen a little longer, and honor what is actually standing right in front of us.

And when we finally see what is real, it leads us directly into the next movement: Compassion....

28/09/2026

A few weeks ago, Patricia and I were having coffee with Pastor Kilang when the conversation turned toward Newsong and vision. Then, out of nowhere, Kilang looked up and said, “There’s this word that keeps coming back to me. And it’s just one word.”

And of course we were all ears…
“What’s the word?”

And Kilang answered:
“Shine. I really feel like God isn't finished with this word for us yet. ”

We both agreed, “That’s a good word. Go for it!”

And the more I thought about that word, the more I began to see why it might be a word God is giving us here at Newsong.

When we think about shine, we naturally think about light.

And light has this wonderful way of making something visible. It reaches into darkness. It helps us see colours, beauty and danger. It gives off warmth. It causes things to grow. And this is the part I like, when light shines, it doesn't keep what it has to itself—it radiates outward simply because that is what light does.

Paul uses this same picture in Philippians 2:15. He points out that this is the time for us, God’s people, to stand out, to make a difference:
“Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky.”

I love that starry sky image. Because when do we best see the stars? When it’s at its absolute darkest. That’s when light becomes noticeable. The word Paul uses here literally means 'to appear.' To become visible. A star doesn't work hard to be bright; it simply holds a fire that was given to it, and when the night is black, it naturally appears.
And that got me thinking about the difference between shining and polishing.

You might be surprised, but I did a stint in the army when I was 19 years old. I took immense pride in spit-shining my boots. I’m not exaggerating—I was easily in the top ten percent of shiny! You could practically check your hair in the toes of my boots.

But here’s the thing about a spit shine: it takes an absurd amount of sweat, specialized technique, and a relentless focus on surface appearance. Obviously the shine doesn’t come from inside the boot, it’s all surfacy.

And the worst part? Trip a bit, big scuff! Step in one small mud puddle and—total tragedy.

When we hear a word like shine, it's so easy for our minds to jump straight into spit-shine performance mode.

As a pastor of many years, I know far too much about performance and maintaining a polished image. As a young pastor in his twenties I bought into the lie that to be a successful leader, I had to look good, preach good, you know, be flawless.
So much of what I learned was about the stage. Every Sunday morning felt like my moment to shine—to look committed, to look deeply spiritual, and preach a gold-medal sermon so people would say, 'Look at Pastor Peter. Now there's a man who really has his act together.'

But think of the pressure of projecting and maintaining that polish day in day out! There’s even a name for that pressure: Performance anxiety. When you live for the spit shine, you live in a state of constant terror of failure, of looking bad, of stepping in even one small puddle.

And maybe that's where we need to pause for a moment and ask ourselves:

Are we in the shining business, or are we in the polishing business?

Polishing says, “I need to make myself or even make my church group into something worthy of being seen. Look at us. See how bright and shiny we are?

We would never say that out loud, but we've all thought about it. I sure have, as I prayed in the prayer room, hoping somebody would notice my devotion!!!!

Shining says, “I can drop the pressure to impress anyone. God has put something real in me, and my role is simply to let it be seen—even though I am but a fragile jar of clay.”

See the difference?

Brothers and sisters, hear the good news:

Christianity was never meant to be an exhausting self-improvement project.

It isn't about working harder and praying harder and reading the Bible harder and spit-shining ourselves until we finally become impressive enough for God—and everyone else—to notice.

In fact, when I look at the stories in the Bible, what I see is that Jesus uses imperfect, often broken vessels to carry His message. And maybe that’s the most important part of what I am trying to get across today: our weakness/flaws/contradictions do not disqualify us from shining. In the hands of God, even our weakness can become a place where His strength and glory is seen.

Maybe you need this encouragement today? Maybe you're like me, and you're saying an amen to this. Because sometimes all we know to do is bow our heads and say:

‘Lord, here’s what little I’ve got. I’m placing it in your hands—take it, use it, and make it mean something for your kingdom.’

And that is the beginning of really shining.

21/09/2026

After our service today, the painters, poets, and prophets walked the very streets where our church calls home. Over the years, fellow Christians have asked us, "Why rent a space in such a dark district?"

Our answers may vary, but our heart remains singular: to shine God’s love where it is needed most. Amy Grant offers a prayer we hold close: “God, lead us to the people we need to meet—and who need to meet us—and make that meeting matter.”
”

20/09/2026

Pastor Kilang of Newsong Bangkok gives us a deep challenge to love our cities. Wether you live in Toronto, Montreal, Barrie, or Paris, this is our challenge... to live compassionately and shine whereever God has planted us.

(This week Patricia is taking on that theme. My turn is coming next week).

Our vision is to become more like Jesus by seeing our city the way ...

19/09/2026

Attention can be an act of love.
And sometimes attention is prayer. This is the heart behind Newsong's Prayerwalk for Poets, Painters, and Prophets.

This prayer walk gives us three beautiful ways of attending:
The Poet finds words.
The Painter finds images.
The Prophet asks, “What must not be overlooked here?”

You can pray this prayer for your own city:

God of this city,
teach us to see what we pass every day.
Receive what we have noticed,
what we cannot understand,
and what we have made.
For those who suffered here,
for those who still carry its wounds,
and for those living ordinary lives around this place—
let our attention become prayer.
Amen.