Every day for a year and a half, Don, a taxi driver in Phnom Penh, prayed for Christians to come to the village where he was raised.
Little did we know, he was waiting for us.
As soon as we found out, we decided to become the answer to his prayer. We decided to go.
The alarm clock went off at 6:00 am on Friday morning and we hauled ourselves out of bed with the help of several cups of coffee.
Our journey took us out of the city, down bumpy country roads, on a ferry across the Mekong River, and across roads built on top of rice paddies.
Amidst the stilts beneath the huts, children ran shyly behind their mothers' skirts, and adults' nervous smiles showed teeth in various stages of decay.
We exited the van and began to introduce ourselves to the villagers. At first, they were shy and didn't say much. There were tentative greetings and skittish children running around.
But as we began to explain that we were there to tell them about a man who had changed our lives and had given us great hope, they began to listen.
As we talked about what Jesus had done for us, crowds slowly gathered.
Interested ears followed our words and eyes began to glimpse the hope of love and peace we were bringing.
Soon questions began to fly about who Jesus was and how to know him.
Before we knew it, Hannah and I were praying for person after person, giving them the truth of Jesus Christ. Truth they had been yearning for.
But we only had so much time. So many people. We couldn't get to them all. Never before have I truly understood the scripture that says "the harvest is truly great, but the laborers are few."
They were desperate for Jesus. All they needed was someone to tell them who he is.
Jesus put urgency in our hearts that day. We no longer saw men with broken bodies, women with rotten teeth, and children with lice. We saw children of God who were made for eternity. What if this was their only chance?
I can never forget the faces of the ones we reached, and the thought of those we never reached haunts me.
But that day was about hope. Don had been praying, they had been waiting to hear, and we were the answer.
As we were leaving the village, our translator had a huge smile on his face. We asked him what was on his mind.
He looked at us and said, "Any day I get to tell people about Jesus is a great day."
We couldn't agree more.
How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news."
Romans 10:14-15
What if there's a village full of people somewhere that's waiting for you? Will you go?
