A swelling blue sky washes Cambodia awake. New morning. Air thickened with humidity feels familiar. The welcomed addition of tangible breeze today— a promise of rainy season upon us.
It’s early afternoon now, clouds have rolled in right on schedule ripe with raindrops. Morning’s memory dims as aggressive gray visitors consume our world’s ceiling and water empties onto the city of Siem Reap. One by one motos slide slowly to the roadside, their drivers dawning ponchos of every color, filling the streets with a watery rainbow in motion. A child’s paint set chaotically upturned, I think to myself, watching from the window of a coffee shop as darkness pours out what’s needed for new life to grow.
Maybe this is a mirror of my time in Cambodia — an abundance of blue skies and fresh morning starts, but always the promise of gray on the way.
I talk to Jesus about this, because I grapple with gray space. In my mind Cambodia is an abundance of gray, and sometimes it’s just tough to peel the gray away with an assurance there’s brightest blue ever always on the other side. Together, Jesus and I, we settle on this: It’s in the gray spaces where new life grows and old things are revived.
Cambodia has left my clothes stained with sweat, my body and mind fatigued, and my stomach tied in knots from spicy peppers, fried snake and barbecued mouse. Cambodia has also given me time with the Father, given me space to dream, given me new friendships and new family, new insight. These past six months have brought knowledge and understanding around Christian hospitality, and the hard but great challenge of practicing welcome when it doesn’t flow so easily.
I anticipated Cambodia would be tough—I didn’t anticipate the amount of vomiting, diarrhea and tears involved, but I did anticipate it would be hard. So why would I go to a place I knew would almost certainly be a challenge mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually?
My number one reason for going, was simply because I felt Jesus asking me to go. In my short 27 years, I’ve learned that is reason enough to do anything. Far more than our performance or production, Jesus wants our love and obedience. I want my life to reflect my love for Jesus not only in my words but in my action, in my trust, in my faith of who He is.
I’ll go to the hard places because I don’t want to miss the calling, the confidence, the redemption, the endurance, the dreams, hope, affection, love, and grit that grow beneath the shadows of gray skies. Gray space often uncovers our priorities, motivations, and potential with audacious accuracy. The hard spaces push us to ask better questions, challenge our thinking, our decisions, our commitments, and draw us closer to the One who’s worth it all if we’re willing.
Nothing is wasted with Jesus.
Here’s what I’m learning from my gray space in the Kingdom of Wonder:
- Hospitality: it’s not just an industry, or something women do. Hospitality is a daily practice of welcome that not only shares a table but shares the day-to-day of life with those who do and don’t look like you. It’s extending invitation; creating space for understanding and hope to be found. There’s a difference between hospitality and entertainment. Hospitality can be messy and hard, but oh so beautiful and necessary to showing up for a lonely world.
- Organic Relationships: I have been fortunate enough to see how the Gospel hope of Jesus is shared in many corners of this world. I remember some tactics causing me to cringe, and I remember others unfolding in beautifully genuine ways. More and more, I am coming to believe the best way to love this world like Jesus is through organic relationships; the kind that form over tables and in shared space. The kind of relationships that take time, investment, and life lived together.
- Unless the Lord Builds the House: I landed in Cambodia on March 19th, 2018. On March 23rd, 2018 I was reading a research paper about building churches in the context of Khmer culture by one of my teammates, Jordan Bergren. I found tears forming in my eyes as I read, “Unless we realize that God is already at work within these people, we might begin building a house that he is not building.” Dang, right? I copied those words into my journal and underneath them wrote, “Find where the Father is already at work.” From that moment until this moment, and for the rest of my life I’m sure, a constant prayer you will find on the tip of my tongue is this, “Jesus, let me never break ground where you haven’t softened the soil.” (Psalm 127:1)
- The Value of Obedience: I’ve never used to like the word “obedience.” It felt so churchy and stuffy, and limiting. But I’m coming to love it and find comfort in it.During my time in Cambodia I camped out in a couple of stories — the story of Hannah found in the first few chapters of 1 Samuel, and the story of God rejecting Saul in 1 Samuel 15. I’d encourage you to take some time and sit with those stories, too. When I read them I found it eye-opening and soul-piercing to know that more than our performance, or production, or outcomes, what the Lord values most is our obedience. He wants us to know him and love him so unwaveringly that we are willing to walk into the places he asks, in the ways he asks, with the ultimate goal of obedience and deeper trust. While it’s good to hope and pray and expect fruit from our efforts, I find peace in knowing Jesus is just asking me to say “yes” to the things he asks, regardless of the outcomes. May I never believe what matters most is what I do for God. May I never believe my partial obedience is a worthy substitute for full obedience.
- Abiding & Joy: Another passage of scripture I tend to make home in is John 15. Here Jesus talks about his relationship with the Father and his relationship with us. He talks a lot about abiding and joy in there, too. I find the concept of abiding to be so complex; layer upon layer of truth and challenge. Maybe it seems simple to you, but it’s one I turn over repeatedly, studying every angle I come across. What I want to know is what does it mean and what does it look like to Abide in Jesus and for him to Abide in us? What does He mean by finding “fullness of joy” in him? For the time being I’ve come to this, “In the Abiding, there is prayer, there is conversation with God—both talking to him and listening for him. Through prayer trust grows for who God is and how he sees us, knows us and loves us. From there we are moved in obedience. We want to follow Him wherever he leads — to go when he says go, to stay when he says stay. Living in obedience, from this place of trust and prayer and relationship lived wth Jesus, it’s here that joy takes root.”
- Give Him What You Have: Most of the time I come to God with fists full of dreams, ideas and pieces of things I believe he’s given me, that don’t seem quite whole yet. Palms upturned I ask Him to turn these pieces into a better whole than I could ever imagine. I ask Him that a lot—like everyday. I think I will keep asking Him that my whole life and here’s why—because Jesus makes things whole. It’s just truth of who He is. Nothing is ever wasted with Jesus, He will use every piece if we entrust them to Him. It may not make sense in the moment, but when I look back over my 27 years I see a mosaic coming into creation that only Jesus could craft. Give Him what you have, and be expectant of what’s to come.
- People: You can be sure that wherever Jesus places you, there will be people. And WOWOWOW, does Jesus love people. Whether in Massachusetts, Maine, Guatemala, Thailand, Cambodia or Rwanda, it’s never failed that Jesus has pointed out someone specific for me to meet and spend time with. To look into someone’s eyes and share a message on behalf of the Creator of the universe that they are loved by Him endlessly, tirelessly, eternally—is always worth the hard.
Thank you for traveling across ocean’s with me, believing with me and for me that God is able to do immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine and wants to use us in the process. I wouldn’t be able to answer His call to go without your prayers and support. I love that He has designed it this way; we go together, never alone.
