Growing up in an area where farming was fairly common, I always thought rain was a good thing. It was necessary for healthy crops, and it usually meant the nasty Kentucky heat would be squelched for just a bit. Rain also meant spring had arrived and that the green grass was on it’s way. In Cambodia, though, rain doesn’t always indicate good things.
The girls that teach English at the school told us that there are two seasons in Cambodia, dry season and monsoon season. We are here in monsoon season, and the rain has come on several different occasions. I’m actually updating my blog today instead of Monday when I normally have a day off, because the rain has made the roads to the village impassable. Yay, free day off! Right? No, that rain was not a good thing. You see, when Pastor Sophy can’t get his van to the villages, the people there don’t receive medicine, English lessons, or even the occasional treat in the form of a cookie. But most importantly, they don’t get to hear about the love of Jesus.
These people are very isolated. Getting to Siem Reap often takes 1-2 hours from the villages, and that’s when the roads are in “good condition”. So if Pastor Sophy can’t make it out there, they literally may never hear the Gospel. On Thursday, we took his van (which wouldn’t start on multiple attempts before we left) out to a village we had never visited. The rain had prevented us from going there for the past few tries. Our ride was extremely bumpy and very slow moving. At breakfast before we made the trek, I started to get a migraine (the first one I’ve had since January). So to make matters worse, we were making this drive while my head was throbbing, I couldn’t feel my hands, and I was certain I was going to throw up.
After close to a 2-hour drive feeling this way, we arrived. I still felt horrible, and I honestly couldn’t contribute much, but what I saw was beautiful. Literally more than 200 people gathered in this open building on stilts and heard the Good News. My team danced to Zumba and Bible songs, and they did their best to share Jesus with these people. These kids couldn’t understand a word, but they danced, laughed, hugged, and thoroughly enjoyed the day. I sat on the side of the building praying for my team and enjoying watching God use them for His glory. Honestly, it was one of the coolest things I have seen. Children from the village just kept showing up, some wouldn’t join the giant circle, but they danced from afar. We also had several adults gather and watch. I firmly believe that the love and joy demonstrated by the women on my team simply showed them Jesus in a way they had never seen. It was amazing.
So while rain can often be a symbol of provision for many places, as demonstrated several times in the Bible (see Elijah in 1 Kings 18), it seems to be a major obstacle for people here to be able to hear the Gospel. Please pray that while we only have a week left in Cambodia that we will be able to minister to those that may never have heard. Please continue to pray for our Pastor that he will be able to travel out to these isolated places and love on these people. When I get home and I celebrate that beautiful Kentucky rain and sleep peacefully in my safe, sturdy home with thunderstorms outside, I am going to try to always remember to say a prayer for those that the rain prevents from hearing the Good News. I don’t want to take for granted the ease of travel and access in our country. I want rain to be a good thing for the people here too, because after all, we are all deeply loved by the Father.
