This last week, we took some of the older boys from the orphanage to the Phnom Penh city dump.
The dump is imaginably awful.
There was one time back in Dallas when my roommate accidentally left raw chicken cuttings in the kitchen trash. When I came back home after being away for the weekend, I thought a large rodent or possibly cat had died in our house. The dump took me back to that time in Dallas. Except the dump smells like rotting chicken pieces mixed with ripe fruit and maybe a little dash of feces. While there were moments that I didn¡¯t even notice the smell, there were moments when I felt myself gagging. I lectured my body into stopping because I didn¡¯t want to insult the people that live and work at the dump.
People live and work at the dump. There is a whole second city down there. The dump is a lot bigger than I thought it would be. There are hills of trash as far as the eye can see. When I squinted, the hills looked like beautiful rolling hills of color, instead of giant piles of rubbish. There is a makeshift road between two of these giant hills where the dump trucks enter. When the dump trucks enter, people swarm to them. From the way the workers push to get to the dump truck, you would think Brad Pitt or Angelina were going to pop out from inside truck. As soon as the trucks dumped the trash, the workers began to sift and collect anything that appeared to be salvageable. While they sifted through the trash, they would occasionally glace over their shoulder to make sure that their naked toddler hadn’t wandered to far away.
In stark contrast to the filth around them, the workers were beautiful people. Manuel labor has made their bodies strong, the hot sun has made there skin dark, and some miracle of God has made their smiles large.
As I smiled at the workers, part of me wanted to go sift through trash with them, although I wouldn¡¯t know what was looking for. But mostly, I wanted to forget about these people because I don¡¯t feel like I have the time or energy or know how to even begin the process of ministering to them.
Back at the orphanage, I contemplated my morning at the city dump. I didn¡¯t feel sadness, pity, frustration, gratitude, love, or something dramatic and life changing; I just felt an overwhelming need to encourage more Christian workers to live out their calling. This is mostly because I would like to see the Lord transform the Phnom Penh city dump, but for today at least, I¡¯m not the person who can do it.
In some ways the World Race has been a tour of the incredible need of the world. There is so much need in the world, and one person can not reach everybody. I can¡¯t love the children at the orphanage the way they need to be loved, minister to the dump workers, reach the girls trapped in the sex industry in Thailand, feed every starving orphan, save every AIDS patient in Africa, go into every prison, and reach everyone in my home country for Christ.
As a fellow member of the body of Christ, I am asking you to be obedient to the calling the Lord has on your life.
Whether you are in America, Africa, Asia, or anywhere else, you can have an incredible part in saving this world.
Luke 10: 1-3
*Special thanks to Courtney for the photos.
