For the past two weeks the country of Cambodia has been completely engulfed in the extravagant celebration of their New Year.
Businesses, coffee shops, and restaurants close up shop, making food and a place of AC refuge hard to find, but we can handle the challenge. School’s go on break, releasing the ecstatic, restless children into the culture of chaos and fun that runs this holiday. The streets are blocked off for more important things than commuting to work, like massive water fights and dance concerts.
Families are gifted precious quality time, children reunited with their fathers who return from the neighboring country Thailand where they have humbly moved themselves to provide. Simply put, the best way I can explain this holiday is to picture the celebration of Christmas in the western world, the only thing missing is the big man in red and white.
And Jesus. The beautiful, astonishing, life changing story of Jesus. The gospel is missing from this holiday and this country.
That is the part of the equation we have the privilege of taking part in. The absolute privilege, honor, blessing of knowing the treasure of the gospel and carrying it.
In a country where we feel clueless to the culture and language, overwhelmed by the heat and shortage of AC, and lost in the relationship between the lack of resources and abounding need, the one thing we can be sure of is the gospel. The one thing that gives us reason of being in this small country. The motivation, purpose, drive.
Sounds pretty exhilarating, right? What an adventure, a crazy radical way to live. Well, I would still say that that is true, but it does not always feel like that.
It feels like I am stuck between the rock of a gaping language barrier, unable to communicate with the country I am placed in, and the hard place of not having the ministry opportunities set before me perfectly to share the gospel effectively.
Instead, ministry here looks like this: it’s up to me.
Ministry in Cambodia looks like something I have to seek out. It looks like the way that I choose to live. How I choose to spend my time. How I choose to pursue the people around me. How I choose to form my attitude despite my circumstances instead of based on them.
Ministry looks like responding to the situations that the Lord places me in with actions that align with his heart and character. Ministry looks like being humble enough to ask the Lord for opportunities when my flesh can’t create them. Asking God to give me eyes to see the strangers lining the streets I walk on how he would. Asking for compassion on them, powerful and real enough for my heart to be broken for someone I have never spoken to before.
It looks like walking like the living sacrifice I signed up to be when I said yes to Jesus. Being a vessel, defined as a hollow container, humbly hollowing out my own desires to be filled up with his instead.
Ministry in Cambodia is about planting seeds, not setting off explosions. Ministry is Cambodia isn’t some time of instant, microwave experience of bringing salvation to the entire country. I wished it would be, I wanted it to be, I expected it to be. But then I learned more about planting seeds. I learned that as a vessel, my purpose is to plant seeds for fruit that will last. And that is a process that takes time.
The thing about seeds is that they are small and easy to miss. Yesterday my day was transformed by one of these small, easy to miss seeds.
Because of the New Year, my normal ministry schedule of serving at an English school here has been put on pause, creating the opportunity to seek my own ministry, (or not, it’s my decision).
So as I walked the blocks of Battambang, I was approached by a seed who may have looked small but truly made a monumental impact of me. Expressive, gentle, and hilarious we were instantly companions. Within minutes my friend motioned to his apparent hunger, so we relocated our play date to a place we could find a bite to eat.
He directed us to a little street coffee cart, where we thoroughly enjoyed some fried chicken, french fries, and burgers. The adventure continued to frozen yogurt and building puzzles in the playroom of a cafe. It was the most innocent, genuine, and simple fun I had in a really, really long time.
He taught me about the importance of the character and humility of children. Illustrating Matthew 18 so vividly, he was the best bible teacher I have yet to meet.
“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18: 3-4
His humility to ask for food when he was hungry, ability to be perfectly approachable, and courageous trust was bold and influential. Spending time with this faultless, miraculous, perfect boy is an example of the blessed experience of living missionally in Cambodia.
Ministry in Cambodia is being humble enough to keep my eye out for the seeds and for the small. Changing my perspective of the desire for big, explosive, and grand and instead being approachable, interruptible, bold, trusting, courageous, and humble like the wonderful boy I met yesterday.
