Walk out of the gates. Get going!!
Get the road ready for the people.
Build the highway. Get at it!
Clear the debris, hoist high a flag,
a signal to all people! Yes!
God has broadcast to all the world :
“Tell daughter Zion, ‘Look! Your Savior comes; Ready to do what he said he’d do, prepared to complete what he promised.'” Zion will be called new names:
Holy People, God-Redeemed,
Sought-Out, City-Not-Forsaken.
Isaiah 62: 10-12
I was walking home from some one on one time with Steph at Jars of Clay Coffee this morning smiling and saying hello in Khmer to all I passed by.
Have I really only been here less than a week?! Is this really only the beginning of day 3?!?!
It feels so natural to be walking down this street, like I have been doing it for years, not days.
As I walk, I notice fun cultural differences like:
Young girls who zip by me on their pink vespas; their faces covered with surgical masks and their clean, white socked feet shoved into their flip flops.
A mother who pedals her bike as her baby boy, barely 1.5 years old sits on the rack on the back tire and holds onto the seat.
And a family of 5 that passes me on their motorcycle going the opposite direction- Dad is driving, their two year old stands in front of Dad holding on to the handlebars, no helmet; a small infant less than a year is “standing” on the seat between Dad and Mom as Mom holds him; and an older adolescent girl sits on the back of the motorcycle behind Mom.
Other things I see remind me of just why I am here in Cambodia.
My heart yearns to see my kids again as I walk past a waste picker. She is on the curb rummaging through garbage. Her head and face are completely covered with a scarf, she wears long sleeves and pants in the this heat. Her cart is sitting close by on the street, already filled with the morning’s findings. She brings her small child to work. I imagine she has no one but herself to care for him. I can see a skin rash on his little, half-clothed body as he stands in the cart of garbage, bending down, looking for something, anything he can play with.
I pray in the Spirit over them as I pass.
I continue on. A beer garden is on the left. I think about the Hofbrauhaus in Cincinnati, where my friends and I go to enjoy good imported beer, good conversation, and good music. The beer gardens here are not quite so innocent.
Here, beer gardens are a gathering grounds for Khmer men to come, drink, and purchase sex. The women who work in these beer gardens are not “forced” to have sex with customers per se, but for many of them, poverty is their pimp. And for others if they refuse a customer who will just not take “No” for an answer, then it is likely that when her shift ends, he will be there waiting with this friends to gang rape her as she tries to walk home.
I pray in the Spirit over that place as I pass.
Then my mind begins wandering back to dinner last night. We are sitting at Cantina, a Mexican restaurant by the river. The 10 of us girls are lightheartedly talking and getting acquainted with one another. I am sitting at the end of the table talking to Meredith, one of the girls who has been here for 10 months already, when I look to my right and suddenly stop. Laura, one of my girls, has fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “She’s okay.” Mere whispers trying not to draw attention to her. She motions over my shoulder and I turn my head.
I can only see the back of his bald head, the few gray, wiry hairs he has left, and the nape of his wrinkly neck. But she is facing me. Her hair is pulled up “Pebbles” style on the top of her head. Her face is sweet and innocent, with small dimples and crooked front teeth. Her skirt is short and his hand is on her thigh. She is wearing platform heels. She looks no older than 15.
We stop. We shift. We pray. I pray in the Spirit over her, and over him.
Both are equally broken. Both are in need of deep true love, of hope, and of light. Both are in need of a Savior. Both have stories to share and both are in need of someone to listen to them.
There is no mistaking why God has called us here. Already my team and I are feeling the weight of it all. It can be easy to feel overwhelmed and helpless, but then I turn the corner onto our street and I am greeted by this sign:
I am told it reads: Jesus Christ has eternal life.
So everyday, I will turn the corner and see it. And I will be reminded; this may only be the start of day three for me in Cambodia, but the Lord Jesus Christ has been here for a much longer time than I. He is here and he is moving. I am just privileged to join him here.
Thank you for continuing to join the Lord and myself in Cambodia! Your prayers are powerful and effective!
