Standing at the ledge of the rooftop of an eight-story hostel, looking out
over the city as praises to God are sung around me. I see tuk-tuks and motos on
the streets below. I see Olympic stadium a few blocks away. Governmental
buildings stand tall in the distance.
And there, standing tall and ready for battle, are angels. Hundreds of
them, nay, millions of them. I see them invading the streets of Phnom Pen. Some
standing guard and protecting. Others already engaged in battle. I see them in
the countryside: atop the hills, in the fields, walking amongst the villages.
The sounds of worshippers around me on the rooftop get louder.
“I believe that You’re more real than
what I can see
I believe these hills are full of a
mighty angel army.
God of the Angel-armies,
You are mighty to save
God of the Angel armies
You are worthy of our praise
God of the Angel armies
You fight for us
God of the Angel armies
You come down as praises go up.”
I join in with the singing as I weep for Cambodia on my last night in the
country. My heart can’t help but want to burst with love for this broken land,
and ache at the thought of having to say goodbye. To the precious children at
our education program. To our delicate translators, our tuk tuk drivers, our
regular food vendors. To Huynh and Sat Long.
Three years ago I experienced this same weeping, this same aching, as I
rode away from an orphanage in a village far from the city, praying the Lord
would return me to this country one day. I am left to wonder where those three
years have lead each of my rambunctious Cambodian children.
The faces of all of those whom I’ve met in my visits to Cambodia flood
my mind like a cartoon flipbook. But as I fight to contain the tears and plead
with God to allow me to stay longer, He reminds me of this truth:
I am SURE of this, that He who began a good work in you WILL
bring it
completion at the day of Christ Jesus.
Philippians 1:6
My team and I left Cambodia
with stories unfinished. Four children at our organization still feel unsafe in
their own home, with a neglectful mother and an abusive father. A Buddhist
friend who was unable to come to church with us on Sunday may possibly go on
his own in the future, but only God knows. Huynh has begun a new job and is
carving out a new life for herself and her daughter, but God is still chasing
her.
And we are just a blip in the grand stories of these lives. It was never
ours to finish the work anyway. God allowed us to be a part of their stories,
but HE is the author and perfector. HE wrote the stories, the beginnings and
the ends. HE will bring the good work unto completion.
