We’re coming home in a whopping three days – that’s approaching a lot faster than I ever thought it would. ‘Ministry’ is done, we don’t have another contact waiting for us next month, and everyone is throwing away their stuff. We’re in Siem Reap, Cambodia, acting like tourists – tanning poolside, sleeping in, visiting cool places like Angkor Wat. We’re starting to process what’s happened to us this year. We’re saying goodbye. For many of us, we’ve found a family that knows us better after a year than most people back home we’ve known all our lives. We’ve learned what a community really looks like, we’ve been challenged and pushed and loved more than any other time in our life. We’ve struggled and fought and yelled and, yes, dealt with diseases that make it seem like we’re playing Oregon Trail. We’ve done crazy things, sometimes stupid things, usually things we’ll remember for the rest of our lives. We’ve seen God at work in crazy ways, and there’s no way I’ll ever be able to explain everything God’s done in us all. There’s a lot I need to process still, so I’ll keep blogging for a little bit when I get home – you deserve to hear it all after following me around the world. For now though, let’s wrap up the last few weeks in Svay Rieng.
I’ve never really been involved with teenage ministry, so it was not only a refreshing change of pace for me – it opened my eyes. I’ve been discovering a passion for discipleship, especially with my generation, that I certainly never tried to add to my life. Seeing teenagers, from a country as war-torn as it gets, coming to a knowledge of the God who loves them, and seeking more – it’s beautiful. It’s also heartbreaking when I look at how difficult it is for them to really get the tools and information they need and want. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to sit down with these incredible kids and have conversations with them about God. I wanted to hear their stories, see what they were learning, and answer the questions I’ve been blessed with the answers to. Of all the things I never understood were luxuries, spiritual training must be among the greatest. I had a Bible in my hands when I was three years old. I had Sunday School teachers and Christian schoolteachers and chapel sessions and high school Bible class every day and two Godly parents who could talk to me and share their wisdom for any question I had. I was brought up steeped in God. Even once I was living on my own, I had the collective published wisdom of centuries of Biblical scholars available on the Internet. The kids living in Svay Rieng don’t exactly have that. Most are first-generation Christians, nearly all are the only believer in their whole family. They’ve got churches in the area and Wednesday night worship services, but they don’t have many of the resources I’ve been blessed with. I don’t want to sound like an ugly American here – I know that God speaks to everyone and doesn’t have any limitations on how people experience Him – but the language barrier has never been so frustrating. I can have simple conversations with them using the basic English they’ve been taught at school, about their family and favorite color, but I don’t have any of the words I need to ask them about what they’re reading in their Bible studies. I can tell they’re excited and eager to learn everything they can about God, and I want so much – more than I’ve ever wanted this before – to share all I’ve learned with them, but there’s only so much I can do. I found myself praying a lot for someone to go out there and really invest – more than the seemingly inadequate three weeks we had – in the lives of the country’s future.
All of us got a glimpse, one way or another, of the incredible things God is doing in Cambodia. It’s encouraging and uplifting to see a generation rising up to reject the shallow superficiality of their culture, to believe that there’s more to life and to earnestly seek it out. It’s a thousand times better to know it’s MY generation.
I’ve played and sung and danced and laughed and, yes, partied (Halloween party one week and farewell party the next – we’re establishing American missionaries as party animals!) with the amazing teens I got to know this month. I learned their names (what a change from month one in the Dominican where I barely knew the name of our contact) and I got to know them. I miss them already, and there were more than a few tears shed the day we left. What a blessing it’s been to have one last month of incredible ministry!
This is it, folks – the end of the Race. I can’t thank you enough for all your support and prayer. Every one of you, who provided financially, emotionally, and prayerfully for me: you are all deeply loved and appreciated. God bless you greatly!
Home is looming and my heart and head are full – stick around for the next few weeks while I unpack!
