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kneeling on the dirty ground. Dirty being an understatement as the mushy ground
is covered in piles of garbage. Surrounding the scene are rubbles of rotting
wood and rusty metal pieced together for shelter, one of these is your “home.”
Others are kneeling around you. You are rough and worn, tattered and hopeless.
You are kneeling to receive prayer in desperation. There is nothing left to do.
hope. You have no food to feed your children, let alone yourself. You have no
clothing other than the rags that barley cover your battered and tired body.
You have no money, no bed, no shoes, and no toothbrush. You have no toilet, so
anywhere will do when you have to go. The illness that has infected your body
does not allow you to work. Your body is so sore and sick you cannot care for
your children, so they go to work for you. Your job is going out to the trash
dump and scavenging for any material (aluminum, plastic, metal) you can find
and then sell to be recycled. If you do not work, you do not eat. You do not
smile, you do not laugh. You cannot remember what it is like to be hugged.
sorry for you or helps you, because everyone around you is in the same position
as you or worse. It does no good to talk about it. This is a part of your
culture. So this is why you kneel. Hands are outstretched to touch your
body and cry out with you to Jesus, the only one who can know your pain. This
is your last resort. You are desperate for something, anything. You need an
answer.
you feel guilty; I write this to make my experience personal. The reality is that this is how a lot of the world lives.
If you don’t believe it or have not seen it, take my word for it. These are the
people I see everyday. This is just 1 of hundreds of slums in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.
When I leave this place to go home, they will still be here.
My team and I are seeing the Lord work in these people. I am
witnessing the Holy Spirit fill and heal. Fevers have been broken, painful
tooth-aches cease, and crippled backs soothed. Jesus is the only hope they
have. And that is all I have to offer them. I am devastated and hurting for
these people. Part of me wishes I had billions of dollars to buy them food,
medicine, housing, clothes. But I must rest in the fact and trust Jesus in
this. He is the answer. I pray that I will never forget these people, I have a
feeling I will return here someday. The harvest is plentiful here, and the
workers are very few. There are many here just waiting to hear Jesus’ name. I
can’t imagine going back to a comfy
life after living here. I pray I won’t ever forget them and their struggle.
about comfort. He is “…The Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who
comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble
with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” 2 Cor 1:3,4
