Cambodia was a very short month, and also a bit difficult for me. Unfortunately, I ended up being sick for what was probably almost half of our time there. The heat was extremely intense and my body did not respond well to it. Heat stroke and dehydration put me out of commission for several days of ministry, which mostly consisted of construction and teaching some English classes here and there. The days that I did not spend sick in bed were brightened by a group of neighborhood children who live near our ministry site. They would show up during the day and hang around and sing a few songs here and there. Sometimes I’d go over to their “houses” (which were really more like shacks) and we’d play “duck duck goose,” “London bridge is falling down,” or “red light, green light.” I even taught them to sing “Jesus Loves Me.”
These kids quickly attached themselves to my heart, and I began to look forward to just laughing with them. But there was a significant barrier there: a language barrier, to be exact. This was the first time I had experienced such an obstacle on the Race thus far, and I have to admit that at times it frustrated me a little bit. I just wanted to ask them their names and how old they were. I wanted to be able to understand them when they would get excited about something and repeat the same phrase over and over, hoping I would figure out what they were saying. I wanted to communicate with them verbally, but it just wasn’t possible. But God, who is so much bigger than language, showed me how to break through those barriers. He showed me how to love them without using words. So pretty soon I adjusted to those awkward moments of trying to explain an idea using all sorts of crazy hand gestures, only to be met with blank stares and confused laughter. I quickly learned to just laugh right along with them. I learned that sometimes a smile says so much. Saying goodbye was the hardest part, though, because I was pretty sure they had no idea I wasn’t actually coming back this time. I gave them each a hug and a kiss on the forehead, and waved one last time. I will always remember my Cambodian children, even though I never even learned their names.
