We are officially half way through the race. A thought I’m having a hard time accepting. I have loved every second of this adventure, even the hard parts. Cambodia has claimed a special place in my heart. The people here are incredibly kind and smiley. Every single person wants to welcome us into their homes.
One thing I prayed for entering the race was at least one month where we would tent in a rural village, work in their culture, and sit on their floors to eat with them, talking in a language I don’t understand, about the glory of Jesus. God sure has provided. While it hasn’t quite looked like the scenario I imagined, this month has left me with some incredible experiences. I’m not even sure how to explain all of the unique ministry opportunities we’ve been blessed to partake in.
We are being hosted at the the English school we’re teaching in. All month we’ve been able to tent on the rooftop of this building, falling asleep to the sounds of Cambodian night life. There is just something so simple about falling and rising with the natural light of the sun. The first week we were here there was a festival set up in the square—Ferris wheel and all. The whole thing reminded me of home. Each night we would visit the fair, buy local food, and brave sketchy rides. Trying the popcorn, sugar cane juice, banana-chocolate pancakes, toaster strudel sandwiches—yum! We made many friends in this process. Most of the food carts stay up long after the fair is gone because that’s how those people support their families. The people in the city have come to know us well.
When we got here there was a young, local man hired to be our translator. His name is Phanna. Turns out, he had to get permission from his professor to take off of school to be with us for the week. Phanna loves life and laughing, especially to Tom and Jerry. His dream is to work for an NGO in Cambodia to help support the local agriculture. At the end of our first week, Phanna invited us to hike a mountain, swim the river, and cook for us. A few of us spent our day hanging out with him. Turns out the mountain is actually a Buddhist temple—it was incredible seeing that culture and having the opportunity to invite Jesus there to pray with us. Then, we swam in a river right outside of his college dorm. He then took us back to his dorm, where we sat outside, in hammocks, on a cabana, next to a pond, eating the local dishes he prepared for us. He even went out of his way to buy soy and chili sauce and make the meal vegetarian because he knows I don’t eat meat. He also had some of his friends over and we all just shared in fellowship. Quite truly, my prayer to God had been answered.
The next night, one of our other hosts, who lives in the school with us, invited us to go fishing with him and his friends. We cast nets, just like Jesus, and had a wonderful afternoon of fellowship. They cooked the fish we caught. At one point they even played country music—I felt like I was at a summer fish-fry with my friends from home. I already feel so accepted by a group of strangers.
After fishing, some of us went to a worship night lead by a local woman, whom we had prayed for earlier that week. Miriam is 24 years old and is the first person in her family to become a believer in Christ. She openly shared her incredible testimony with a large group of strangers. The whole moment was so vulnerable and real—two words I’m trying to embody more often. At this worship evening, people from every continent were present, except Antarctica, of course. Including the five of us racers, there was no more than 15 people present. How were all of these continents present at such a small gathering of people, in a random city in Cambodia?! Only God could’ve arranged such a moment. That worship night felt as close to Heaven as earthly possible. We were all singing songs in our native languages and it was so beautiful. The next day, Miriam bought our entire team of 13 local, Cambodian scarves as a “thank you.” The culture here is just so servant-minded. People want to honor their guests and their friends in ways that I am taking note of. Money isn’t designed to hold on to for our personal selves, but is designed to be given out to further His Kingdom; at least, that’s what I’m beginning to learn.
Today, before we were scheduled to teach English to our normal kiddos, some of us went with another one of our host partners to pray for churches in the community. Instead of praying for those pastors and churches, we stumbled upon another local ministry. A retired couple from Minnesota started this ministry, Retained Ministries: Cambodia, back in 2013. Their calling is to help save young daughters from being sold into the sex-trafficking/ prostitution industry. Cambodia is a well-known hub for pedophiles to come and buy little children for cheap rates. Retained Ministries hires local Cambodian mothers so that the moms don’t have to sell their daughters for money to support the family. These mothers hand-sew quilts and sell them for their living. The second we walked in I felt Jesus’ presence. It was such a gift from Him to have stumbled into this place. I have a heart for trafficked women, and a heart for sewing. My Grannie was a seamstress, and so are my two Aunts. I grew up learning to sew with them. This couple comes once or twice a year to make sure that the ministry is sustaining itself and to check in, all the while gaining support from back home in Minnesota. It was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever witnessed. This couple is living proof that we can make changes in the world no matter where we are. That all lives are worth saving, and if we can bring even just one person to Jesus through our acts of kindness and generosity, then we have become successful human beings.
So far, Cambodia is teaching me much about simplicity, vulnerability, and humility. One of the greatest lessons I’m learning is that ministry isn’t about me and why I’m here or what I’m doing. Ministry is about furthering His Kingdom, whatever means necessary. I am merely a vessel being used for His Will. I must decrease; He must increase. The people here live simply. The people here are happy. Jesus is present here, but it’s still considered taboo to be a Christian. Being vulnerable about your faith here is risky; not dangerous, but bold. To openly proclaim His name automatically makes you an outsider here. Yet, these people are doing it anyway. These people are hard-working, and simple, too. These people are strong, and vulnerable, too. These people are bold, and humble, too. These people are pure examples of what it means to be on fire for Jesus. I have learned so much about myself and my faith by merely observing my new Christian friends here. They are so passionate and have a major desire to spread His name. I hope to become more and more like Jesus as each day passes, and the people of Cambodia are showing me how.
