Yesterday, we went with Pastor Matthew (one of the assistant pastors) to do hospital visits. The visits were pretty straight forward. We walked into a hospital ward with roses. We gave the roses to people while trying to figure out if they spoke English. If they did, we would ask to share about Jesus with them or ask to pray with them. Other than the language barrier, which got in the way frequently, the time went smoothly and one of the other groups saw a patient’s son pray to receive Christ.
It was very interesting as we were conversing with one woman. I had shared a bit of my testimony and we were asking to pray for her and she became rather agitated. We were struggling to figure it out as another patient’s son was translating for us and his English was not the strongest. Eventually, we had Pastor Matthew come over and help us figure out what was going on. The woman explained that her daughter had converted to Christianity along with two sisters, but she knew that if she did her husband would kill her.
It wasn’t a question of whether what we were sharing was true. Instead, the problem was the consequences that believing would have for this woman. It broke my heart and as we prayed for her and the other patient’s son, I realize I rarely have to actually count the cost of believing in God.
That reality came to rest about 30 minutes later. We were sitting in the waiting area as one of the groups had not quite finished a conversation. As we were there, a couple of police officers came out with a nurse and proceeded to question us. Why were we there? What was our purpose? Who sent us? The reality hit in a new way that what we were doing was illegal and the risk for the nationals involved. For us, we risk being deported which means going to Cambodia a bit early. For them, they risk prison and fines and long-term consequences.
It is just one of those days when the reality of “taking up your cross daily” really hits home.
