I’ve struggled for the past week and a half to write this blog, but here we go!
Exactly a week ago, we left our home in Costa Rica in search of another.
We left what was comfortable, what was normal, what was safe.
I entered this country with an open heart and a curious mind as to what the Father intended for my time here. Oh yeah- and the jetlag kicked my booty.
I remember the first night well; we arrived in Phnom Penh at around four in the afternoon, unnaturally cool weather met us as we walked out of the airport. as soon as I saw that our house had a flat roof, I scrambled up the stairs ditching my pack on my bed as I flew up to the third story. I was met with a breathtaking view of our surroundings.
The lush mountains that domed our city in Costa Rica were replaced with an outcropping of beige apartment-style duplexes. The smoggy sky reflected in the man-made lake that is routinely swept by fishermen in hopes to catch their next meal.
Our base is positioned right where the creme colored cookie-cutter housing meets a patchwork of materials held together by what seems like a sheer will.
Our home straddles the line of poverty.
Oh but the JOY! The faces of those walking past us completely shift when we smile at them. The joy of the Lord seems to bounce around between our squad and the street kids in the evenings when we play soccer like the neighborhood is one giant pinball machine.
Ministry looks like being a teacher’s assistant from 7:30 am to 11:30 followed by intentional time spent praying over the streets we share, and in the evening; sunset soccer until dark! A packed day for sure but every day is so beautifully humbling. Every day I must choose to take up my cross. But the more I do, the more I want to.
