As we approach another team change my team decided to do one-on-ones our last few days in Siem Reap. This is where we all hang out/go do something fun with one other team member. Friday night I was paired with Taylor and of course we were going to go to the local night market.

We went to his favorite kebab lady and I cautiously bought a smoothie, food in SE Asia doesn’t agree with me. The lady set out two chairs and we began people watching and making up stories of the lives they lived. Taylor was super hungry and went to buy another kebab. As he did, a Cambodian man approached me. My first reaction was slight panic and wanting Taylor to return quickly as I didn’t know what his intentions were.

His build was small and thin, his face and entire left arm scared severely by burns. He wore a black and white headband that reminded me of dalmatian ears a black beach style shirt covered in watermelons and some simple shorts. His hair was thin and stuck upward like messy bedhead from lack of washing. He was timid and seemed to not want to approach us but felt he had to.

My head screamed, “What do I say?” Thankfully Taylor had returned and after the young man mustered up the courage to say hello he asked what his name was. Sak Wee, he replied. We of course had to ask a few times more because we kept forgetting…

Taylor asked some small questions and as he did I could visibly see the weight this man carried. He kept telling us how his life sucked and how everything has just turned to s*** and how this isn’t how he expected his life to be. My heart broke. He was so hopeless. You could almost cut with a knife the hopelessness he felt.

Still no words came to me. Now, I’m not sure if I had too many things I wanted to share and couldn’t select what “I” thought would be perfect. I didn’t want to say something and turn him away. Then, despite my fears, God used Taylor to share the good news with this man. I was impressed with his boldness and encouraged as we prayed over the man. I cried out in prayer, not caring that we were in the middle of the night market and people were watching. This man needed hope and he needed the hope and peace of Jesus.

We had been awkwardly eating in front of him so we then offered to take him to get food. He walked us to a place he could eat at and I found conversation the best way I knew how, learning about him.

At 29 he has been through the ringer. He was raised in an orphanage and went to school there. This is where he learned English. Somewhere along the way he reconnected with his birthmother, who is now elderly and unable to take care of herself. He has two brothers, a younger brother with a severe disability, possibly autism, and an older brother who is in the Mafia. He shared puzzle pieces of his story and what I could piece together just resulted in him being lost and hopeless.

As we sat I could feel the locals glaring through me and at him. I became defensive but didn’t want to let it show. When the food arrived, Taylor pushed it in front of him and the waitress immediately stopped him saying that the soup was for him (Taylor). We brushed it off and tried to sneak it back over to him only to have the waitress return and say it again! My mind was blown that they weren’t going to let us give him food! Realizing we weren’t going to win, Taylor lied and said we were all sharing and she finally left us alone.

My heart fell to the floor, shattered, as my eyes were opened to the open hatred his own people had for him. For a moment I saw a glimpse of Jesus and how he must have felt up on the cross. Hated and scorned by us, his people.

It was no coincidence that it was Good Friday. God came to our one-on-one and made it a three on three, our friend, Taylor, Jesus and I. Tonight was the night Jesus was rejected by his people and he reflected that to me through this man.

Our time came to an end and Taylor asked if we could pray over him and specifically his hand, which was almost useless because the scarred tissue had stiffened the joints. I knew God was about to do something big so we both took hold of his hand and prayed. The Holy Spirit came upon us and I was covered head to toe in goose bumps. I prayed to my God, our God, knowing he answers prayers. There is no doubt in my mind that he hears prayers and I knew he would answer this one.

We released his hand and Taylor asked him to test it out. His face shone with excitement, questioning, amazement and maybe even some fear as he bent his hand more than the had the entire night we had been with him.

Yea people, God answers prayers! Ughhh! I get goose bumps writing this right now.

Before we left, Taylor went to pay and I again didn’t know what to say to him. As I glanced his way about to ask a silly question like, “what’s your favorite color?” or something I saw him bending his hand and smiling down at it, shaking his head in amazement.

Interruptibility, though it’s not really a word it is a lifestyle that we have embraced more and more on the race. Friday night was supposed to be a simple one-on-one, and it could have very well been, but we chose to be interrupted and allowed God to take our night in his hands.

My teammate Taylor wrote about this from his perspective, also. Check it out! 

https://taylorflickinger.theworldrace.org/post/hope-and-healing-on-good-friday