This month has been a beautiful mess. I would be lying if I said it was easy. Upon arrival to our ministry in Cambodia we were given a little orientation by the hosts of Lighthouse. It was not a disappointment to learn that we had a mandatory workout cut into our schedule. I was kinda pumped actually. The real challenge came with the fact that it would be at 5am each morning. Still, my mentality was remaining positive. No problem, just do it, it will be great!
I laid down in my tent ready to conquer Monday morning. Sleeping pad blown up, workout clothes laid out, alarm set for 4:30am….. But Cambodia is hot. My sleeping pad was too good at insulating my body heat. I laid there and sweat… and rolled over and sweat… I removed my pillow from under my head because it made my neck SWEAT. I gave up on cushion comfort and rolled off my sleeping pad, onto the tile floor. It was cooler than the air, which was good enough for me.
I continued to sweat. Oh well, nothing to do but wait till I pass out… or don’t. Around 11pm the noise from next door began. A karaoke bar perhaps? Some kind of loud music with someone attempting to sing…. Yes, attempting is the correct word. Dogs began to bark. Two, maybe three, maybe four by the peak of it. Midnight comes and goes. Half of my sleep loss is derived from the noises all around me, the other half is from anticipation of having to wake up in 5ish hours.
I jerked awake not knowing I had passed out. Did I sleep through my alarm?! I grabbed for my phone… 1:30am. Still time to rest. The bones in my hips and elbows woke me up next. I guess they don’t enjoy being pressed into the tile for hours on end… 2:15am. I flipped up on my sleeping pad and passed back out. The old wooden doors to the porch rattle open. Every new noise shakes me awake. It is just someone going to the bathroom… 3:30 am.
Great, now I have to go to the bathroom. No way. I am NOT getting up. I have one more hour to rest. Then, some Middle Eastern singing of chants rises into the air over loud speakers. I am delirious. Somewhere inbetween sleep and awake. I have entirely forgotten where on planet Earth my body lies. I am half awake but the music is causing me to dream of Iraq. (Now, convinced my subconscious related the music to the soundtrack of American Sniper, it makes a bit of sense.) Confusion covers me while I fully come too with this music. Afghanistan? India? Iraq?… Where am I?… Cambodia, Tate. You are in Cambodia. Oh, yeah.
The Muslim call to prayer continues loudly next door as I turn my phone screen on again…. 4:15am. Good enough. I get up, get dressed, stumble outside with my team and the other 28 teenagers in the house. First, we go for a run. I can’t complain, it woke me up and brought me to atleast. 150 crunches, 20 pushups, 120 mountain climbers, 30 burpees, front plank, side planks, stretches. Not bad.
Then I saw it. Burning under the frayed leaves of the coconut trees. A deep blood red. The breaking of dawn. Soaking its way up into the blackness that the moon is hung in. I cannot remember the last time I saw the first break of dawn. It kind of made the morning worth it I guess.
Night two: Sweat, bones in the tile floor, dogs, attempted karaoke, 23 teenage girls giggling/screaming, more sweat…. Did I sleep through my alarm?! Then, Muslim call to prayer beats my phone to waking me. 4:15am, three-ish hours of actual sleep, telling myself it is good enough. Run, 40 jumping pushups, 110 jumping jacks, 110 crunches, 80 squats, stretches….
Then I see it. The breaking of dawn.The moon hanging, sillohets of palm branches, a burgundy-saturated skyline. Man, that kind of makes it worth it.
Breakfast, devotionals, lunch, teach my English class, down time, plan tomorrows lesson, team meeting, dinner. I am going to sleep so good tonight. My tank is literally on E.
Night 3: Sweat, dogs, weird dreams, bones meet tile, wooden doors, discovering there is now a litter of puppies next door that whine obnoxiously… Try to sleep with my headphones in. Nope… Muslim call to prayer floods in through the windows (open holes in the concrete walls next to me).
Maybe 4 hours of sleep all together. Then, stumbling to my tennis shoes, jogging extra hard to release my tired frustration, 30 jumping pushups, 110 crunches, 120 mountain climbers, you get the idea. I am ready to get back to my tent for an attempted nap. Trying to convince myself to get my attitude straightened out before English class let alone devotionals. I avoid conversation and climb the stairs after stretches. My room is so hot, I cannot stop sweating. I swear it was cooler outside.
I stepped out onto the 3rd story porch. Then I saw it. There it was, a bit later than I usually see it. Dawn had broke. The deep red was not there. Instead, it hung in golden puddles. It burned into orange around the clouds. The moon barely remained up top where its slender smile rested atop layers of lavender and violet. Yeah, it made it worth it. It made it worth it because it was God. I could see it this time. I could see Him in that dawn drenched sky.
I would be lying if I told you my sleep got any better over the course of the next 10 days. For the first couple hours of each day I rocked black spots under my eyes. There were a couple rainy nights where the cool air let me sleep soundly, but even they were not enough to make up for my physical exhaustion. I stared off into the distance a lot. I tried to plan naps into every space of free time. It was never really probable due to the heat. I grew tired of explaining over and over why I was not sleeping well. I just was not, and that is how it was.
However, the mess became beautiful. My spirit became enough to maintain my attitude. My mindset shifted. Each morning, it began with the breaking of dawn. Staring into God’s handy work and feeling His peace wash over me.
You do not need physical energy or a certain number of hours of deep sleep for that. When the roosters became confused on night number nine and began screaming simultaneously at 1am, it was okay. Because even in my sleep deprivation that would remain through the day to come, God would be there to start it off with me. In the pink, the aqua, the orange, and the deep blues of night that were being chased away by wisps of tints and tinges that blushed and bloomed into golden drops of morning.
One day feels like three. Yet there is rest in the Lord. It has brought another point of understanding to dying to my flesh. Just because I slept bad 13 days in a row does not mean I am incapable of smiling at 5am, being conversational throughout the day, teaching English, being intentional with building relationships among the students here, and not making excuses.
That is a beautiful mess. That is not me. That is God through me. As I write this to you on night number 15, the time is creeping past 12:15am. The dogs have already been through their howling cycle, the air has cooled, all I hear are gentle crickets…. for now. Maybe tonight I will pass out until my alarm for four solid hours. Maybe not. Either way, I will find peace in the breaking of dawn. In God.
~Psalm 46:5~
“God is in the midst of her, she will not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns.”
