I’ve grown up going to church my whole life, and I don’t
know the exact date, but I’d say I probably first really felt God and made
Jesus a part of my life around age 7 or 8.
Up until about 8 months ago he was just an accessory – something that
existed in the periphery. I think it has
only been since leaving on this trip that I have actually begun to understand
what it means to actively live allowing him to influence my daily life. In this transition, I feel like God kind of
has me on this timeline or sequence of stepping into further levels of
commitment, understanding, and intimacy through diving deep into areas of
growth, understanding, and experiences.
Month one was about giving up control, expectations, and
knowledge. Month two was dependency and
commitment.
Last month was
obedience. Now I’m on prayer.
Growing up in the church, and in a family full of amazing
Christians, I’ve been praying probably since I could talk. I have listened to various sermons, lessons,
and stories about prayer. I’ve heard and
prayed hundreds, probably thousands of prayers.
However, I’m ashamed to say that this may be the first time that I have
ever really taken time to step back and fully commit to the process of learning
to talk with God.
Last Wednesday was an amazing day. Maybe one of the best of the trip so
far. It was the first day of the
Cambodian New Year, and the tradition is for everyone to cover each other in
water, however possible, and then throw baby powder on each other. Hilarious.
I’ve added this tradition to my list of things to bring back to the
US. The kids at the orphanage
fully embrace this tradition.
Wednesday
morning was full of all kinds of games, most of which involved water and
getting wet. The afternoon was an
all-out water fight complete with countless water balloons, hoses, cups and
entire buckets of water. Needless to
say, we weren’t exactly doing our part to save the whales. The already amazing afternoon was capped-off
in my favorite way – ice cream.
On Wednesday nights at the orphanage they have a time of
worship and bible study that we were able to be a part of. We sang Khmer songs that I couldn’t
understand, danced, and Lindsey shared a little bit about us, our year, and why
we are here. The night ended with
prayer. They asked if they could pray
for us and we were asked to sit in the middle of room. The kids all gathered around. They didn’t just place their hands on us or
touch us, they embraced us. These kids
climbed all over, literally hugging us as they prayed. I couldn’t understand a word of what they
were saying, but it didn’t matter. They
weren’t talking to me. They were talking to their dad. In that moment I
felt the power of every word these children were praying – coming from their
hearts, pouring out of their souls.
God used children to teach me what it means to pray. The more I dive into 
prayer the more
convinced I am that it is absolutely the greatest gift in the world, and the
most powerful, meaningful thing we can do for another person. We are given the privilege of literally
conversing with the God of the universe – a God who actually listens and speaks;
a God who doesn’t want fancy words, memorized chants, or lengthy religious
rambling, but instead he is our dad who asks us to just come as children. He is a God who already knows our deepest
needs and desires but who knows the power and love that is available in that
conversation.
That night, feeling the weight and power of the
words spoken over me. I felt that
gift. I felt that power.
I felt that love.
