This month has slowly but surely become one of my favorite months on the Race.
My parents told me they prayed that it would turn out to be one of my favorite months when they heard how upset I was at the beginning of the month. I thought it was sweet of them, but knew it would have to be a miracle for that to happen.
Well, God has done what He loves to do.
The impossible.
As I sit here in this tiny house with far too many people living in it, I am thankful for the joy this house has seen. I am thankful for the dinners, team times, card games, reading, laughter, and pillow talks that have taken place in this house that has become home to us.
Today was our last day visiting a village in Cambodia and it was just a small glimpse of what God has taught me this month.
I remember the first time we went to this village I felt hopeless to help them. We didn’t have many translators and most of my time was spent standing around sweating. Not exactly Jesus ministry if you ask me.
But today was different. It wasn’t that we had more translators or it was less hot, but my heart changed.
God allowed for opportunities for me to walk into homes and simply share joy. No, I didn’t get to share the Gospel and I didn’t get to ask them what they needed prayer for, but I got to be there. I got to hold a naked baby girl and laugh with her mom when I made silly faces at her baby. I got to sit with an old lady as she smiled at me, spoke to me in Khemer, and rubbed my arm.
At the beginning of the Race, I would have told you that that wasn’t enough. That I should have had a translator and shared the Gospel with them and asked the Holy Spirit to move in their hearts and open their eyes to their desperate need for Jesus.
But today wasn’t the day for that.
God showed me in those moments how joy and love know no language.
We have known that our whole lives, but it’s such a beautiful moment to get to experience it.
It’s one of those moments when you understand what it means to be the hands and feet of Jesus.
I just keep thinking about what Jesus would have done if He was walking through that village.
Yes, He probably would have preached a sermon at some point, but I think most of His time would be devoted to loving on the people.
He wouldn’t need to tell them about Himself, He would simply be Himself.
What does it matter if I walk into that village and tell them about Jesus but I don’t see the value in actually being like Jesus?
What if I share about a love so tremendous that it transforms the ones it touches, but I neglect to actually love on the people? Would they be able to hear a single word I said?
“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.” 1 Corinthians 13:1-3
It’s no coincidence that I’ve been reading a book by Bob Goff called Love Does. It’s such a simple book but the message is extreme. It emphasizes that love is an action, not a word. This book is wonderful and I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone! A quote that really spoke to me was this:
“The kind of love that God created and demonstrated is a costly one because it involves sacrifice and presence. It’s a love that operates more like a sign language than being spoken outright.”
I’m learning that saying “I love you” is great and important, but it will never trump actually being love.
It’s so much easier to just say I love someone, but it’s a completely different ball game to actually live it out. It’s riskier. It might be inconvenient. It may be complicated. It may be awkward. It may take time.
But Jesus gave us a sacrificial, selfless, extravagant love. How can we take on such a powerful love and give away love that is easy and flippant? We were called to so much more than that.
So as I awkwardly sat with those women and had no way to tell them that Jesus loves them, I got to do what He would do instead. I shared love and joy and I know they understood it.
I pray that if they’re having a bad day and feel forgotten or unloved, they remember this random white girl that came into their home that gave them hugs and laughed with them. But instead of feeling loved by me, God will reveal to them that those moments were just a momentary glimpse of His eternal love for them.
