I’m not even sure where to begin this, so I’m just going to start typing and hope that I’m able to paint the story of an experience that is one of my dearest ones.
I do this thing where I forget how sovereign the Lord is sometimes. I’ll get this crazy idea that I need to make things happen through my own accord, because then I can leave the trust and faith part out of following Jesus. I can do it on my own, because it’s my life and I know best. Do you ever do that?
I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes living a life of faith is hard, sometimes I question whether I’m truly making a diference, sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, sometimes I wonder if people see a dollar sign on my head and desire to run the other way because of the support I have to raise to sustain my life of ministry. When thoughts like those creep into my mind, I’ll ask the Lord to help me get over the self-pity of wanting life to look a certain way and realize that it truly isn’t about me, throw on my clothes, and prepare to tackle the day.
Then, I’ll remember the path that He’s taken me through. It’s in those sweet moments of remembrance that I’m left completely in awe of my Father; I remember how He’s orchestrated my life to truly give me the desires of my heart. I remember how He’s faithfully provided provision for the things He’s called me to do. And, the mind-set that I have of trying to orchestrate situations to provide provision for myself or make connections for myself, slowly fades away into a distant thought. And, I lean more into trusting that God is who He says He is. So, it’s this balance of desiring to trust, failing at it, fully trusting, desiring to trust, failing at it, fully trusting…on and on and on.
All of this is a pre-face to the fact that I tried to orchestrate my time in Cambodia, only 4 days, but the Lord took the wheel and completely turned my world upside down.
The day started out as any other day; Mike and I made plans to have lunch in Siem Reap with one of the team leaders, David, that we had grown close with over the previous few months. I was overwhelmed by being in a city with such a high reputation for human trafficking, so I was thankful for a day of just being; no matter how hard I had tried the previous few days, each time I walked on the wooden floors of restaurants, I wondered if those very boards were the ceiling of rooms that held the freedom of women and children captured through human trafficking. Morbid, right? Yet, so true. Ignorance is not bliss. It’s just ignorant.
So, here I am, trying to numb my mind and emotions to the many events going on around me, when a young boy holding an empty bottle grabs my arm and pleads with me to buy milk for his sister. I started a conversation with him, asking questions about his age, his family, and where he lives. Honestly, I can’t remember his name, but I think he was 8 years old. I’m going to call him Nullah, because he bore a strong resemblance to the child in the movie Australia.
Nullah begins to guide us down an alley-way that leads to a market, all the while telling us more about himself. After a 5 or 10 minute walk, we cross the street to a small store; a woman is standing outside holding his sister, Nullah tells us it’s not his mother, just a young woman that stays with them. We enter the store, they hand me the young sister, and Nullah hurries off to find the formula. The entire front of the store is covered with glass windows and doors, so you’re able to see into the street as you’re shopping. As we’re purchasing the formula, I glance to the right. I’m taken aback by what I see: a crowd of women, all holding children, are surrounding the door-way of the store. My thoughts are oh, crap.
We hand Nelluh the formula, exit the store, and attempt to make our way through the crowd of women. They’re all trying to get our attention, tugging on our clothes, walking closely by our sides, begging for food for their children.
If you’re wondering what happened next, or who Soulee is and how she changed my life…you’ll have to keep reading the next post 🙂
