So, needless to say, it is not easy to come face to face with these kind of horrors.
By the time we were heading home, my mind had entered a state of emotional shock.
I didn’t want to think, and yet I could not get the images out of my mind.
They played over and over and over again in my head.
In short, I was a m-e-s-s by the time we got back.
My face was blank, my answers were one or two words, and I simply could not cry.
This continued for a few hours, this emotional shock. I knew I needed to get my emotions out, because they were literally consuming me.
But, at that point, all I really wanted was chocolate. I am an emotional eater. I always have been. So, when Jessica and Krystle said they were going to the store, I was determined to use my last dollar to buy some comfort food.
On the way, they asked me how I was. But I was not ready to break down. I was so close, but I didn’t want to fall to the ground and break down in the Cambodian dirt.
So, I told them I was emotionally shocked, and left it at that.
I bought milk chocolate. I hate milk chocolate, but I was desperate.
And as I was eating it, my eyes started to water. But I held it back.
I thought, ‘I will not cry in front of a grocery store.’
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We walked the half mile back, and I just sat on the stairs and stared at the blue wall.
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Have you ever been on a cliff, over looking the scenery hundreds of feet below you? That feeling you have that you might fall off at any time, and yet you know you are a safe distance from the edge?
Well, I was leaning over the edge. I could feel the ground crumbling beneath my feet, my heart, my soul. My firm grip on my emotions was melting under the heat of my horror and sadness for those three million victims, and their families that were left behind.
And then Jessica hugged me.
And that was my breaking point.
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Physical touch is my love language. It is the way I love, and the way I can be loved in return. Asking how I am, giving me a gift, or trying to encourage me really only scratches the surface for me.
But hugs? They break me.
And man, did I ever break.
I have not cried that hard since I watched The Bucket List after my Dad survived prostrate cancer. I sobbed to him over the phone, just telling him how thankful I was that God had saved him. That God had not taken him from me yet.
You know those really unattractive sobs? The hacking, loud sobs that no one can ignore? The ones that break your heart?
Yeah, those.
I just sat there in Jessica’s arms, crying for the horrors that Cambodia has seen in the last 40 years. I cried for all the men that were murdered, for all the women who were raped and killed, for the babies and children that were literally bashed head first into trees in front of their mothers.
And I cried for this fallen world. I am horrified that this kind of genocide happens.
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However, after I cried my pain out, Krystle, Jessica and I prayed. Prayed for this country, and for our generation.
There is so much potential and hope for this generation. The young men and women we worked with this month have so many dreams. So many dreams to rebuild their country, and shine Christ from one shore to the other.
They have been so inspiring to us. To me. Their parents lived through the horrors that they have only heard about. And instead of dwelling on the pain, or giving up, they are standing tall and striving to restore their nation.
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This month has been amazing. We never want to leave this place.
But, it is time to head to AFRICA!
So, next blog will probably be written in Nairobi, Kenya.
Love you guys.
Oh, and please take a few minutes to view the video I made about the memorials. It is graphic, but I do not believe we should hide from the hard truths of this world.
Love, Rachel
