Everyday Adventures

When Kristin and I first arrived in Cambodia, every day held new adventures. Each trip to the market was a treasure hunt, each time we crossed the street we took our lives into our own hands, each day we learned new words and got to apply them. Then those things sort of became ordinary and routine.

Here are a couple stories of the ordinary parts of our lives that really are fun adventures if I hold them up to the light in just the right way.

Conversation Class
For the last 10 months we have been studying at two different schools. One is a more structured one-on-one or one-on-two time with a tutor. I love this school for a number of reasons- it is literally a 60 second walk from our apartment, our teachers are believers and have been such an encouragement through the process, and they find different ways to help us apply our new vocabulary.

Our other school is focused completely on comprehension. The students mostly just listen to two teachers who talk about different topics and provide help with new vocabulary words. This has really helped our ability to understand and I think pushed our overall language study forward.

At the beginning of March we decided to take advantage of a new option at this second school. For two weeks we could meet three times each week with a different teacher. The goal was not to learn anything new, but really to just practice talking. Some people are naturals at this, but I need all the help I can get!

During the two week course, not only was I able to just talk and try to say as much as possible without stopping for correction or to ask about a word (I do think my tongue loosened up just a little bit), but doors kept opening for spiritual conversations. One day we met with a teacher that has always been a bit intimidating to me. He is a model and an actor here in Cambodia, so he is used to performing and being the center of attention. :) But when Kristin and I sat down with him he said, "Tell me the story of how you came to believe in Jesus". So for the 50 minute session we all shared about cool things God has done in our lives and prayers He has answered.

During another session, we got to share the story of Creation with a teacher who does not know Christ. The story was a bit familiar to her because she had seen it on TV and later she told us, "I want to know what comes next!"

Familiar Treats
We headed to Bangkok last weekend for a retreat with the ladies who work in Southeast Asia from my organization. Phnom Penh is a tiny town compared to Bangkok, which has large malls and a subway system and taxis and lots of other things we don't have. I knew our time would be short, though, so I tried to keep my expecations low.

The one thing that sounded lovely was a visit to Starbucks. Kristin and I checked out the map of the area around our guesthouse and spotted one but it seemed like it might be a bit of a trek to get there. "It is okay, really", I said to myself. It is not like we don't have coffee here.

On Saturday after lunch everyone split up to have some free time. I was a bit worn out, but several of the ladies were going to one of the malls that had an IKEA and that sounded fun to me. We split up a bit once we got there, and a couple of us walked around window shopping and just enjoying the variety of people and the air conditioning. We talked about finding some ice cream or a smoothie place, but decided we better go meet up with the rest of our group. Then one of the ladies that has been to the mall before pointed outside- "There's a Starbucks too," she said. "Really?!" I'm pretty sure Kristin and I said this in unison.

I didn't go to Starbucks that often in America. We didn't have one in my home town until I was in college, or maybe even after that. It was a bit too expensive for my missionary budget when I lived in Texas, so it was a rare treat (unless I had a gift card from dear friends). But, I have some really precious memories of sitting in Starbucks with the strong scent of coffee beans and the hum of conversation around me, my Bible and journal open as I asked God what was next, poured out my heart when things were confusing, or celebrated something special. As my friend and I stood in line in the Starbucks in Bangkok, I smiled and thanked the God who delights to give us little gifts.

"Is there anything else you want to do here?" someone asked before we left the mall. "All of this has already been a bonus," I said. (And then there happened to be a Starbucks in the airport too. Two in one weekend!)


Sometimes when things become routine we miss the Father's hand in work. My walk to the market might be the same path I have walked several times a week for the last 10 months, but maybe God has something different He wants to put before me today. When we only see the ordinary, we might miss the bonuses, the sweet moments, the doors that God might want to open for a new adventure.

Easter Reflections

I've observed many Easter celebrations over the years- pretty spring dresses, family gatherings complete with ham and deviled eggs and Easter eggs hunts, Passover seders and Good Friday services. The reason we celebrate Easter has always been there, but I have heard the story so many times I tend to move past it without much of a thought.

So why do we celebrate Easter? Why did Jesus have to come at all, what made His sacrifice on the cross necessary?

I picked up John Piper's book today called "Fifty Reasons Jesus Came to Die", as Kristin has it on our coffee table and I needed to fill a few moments. Piper's words at the beginning struck a cord as we move toward Easter in a few weeks.

"If God were not just, there would be no demand for his Son to suffer and die. And if God were not loving, there would be no willingness for his Son to suffer and die. But God is both just and loving. Therefore his love is willing to meet the demands of his justice".

I normally like to think I am a pretty good person. I remember once my youth pastor wanted the youth group to decide who was "the best" person at our meeting, the most holy I guess you could say. They picked me. But my 'goodness' does not match the perfect standard of our just God. Any time that we preference something over God, we sin. We dishonor the Creator of the Universe by loving things more than Him. I am so quick to turn to other earthly pleasures before Christ.

Piper said, "We will never stand in awe of being loved by God until we reckon with the seriousness of our sin and the justice of his wrath agains us".

If you want to understand the depths of your depravity, the seriousness of your sin, move overseas. At least for me, I was able to put on a good front and keep all the ugliness in my heart in check while I was in America (at least a good portion of the time), but somehow being thrown into a foreign culture, dealing with all kinds of new and often unpleasant things, the sin in my heart seems to spill over. How often I choose my own way rather than God's way! How often I react in anger/frustration rather than love, walk right past someone caught up in my own problems or thoughts and give up an opportunity to speak a kind word or be the light of Christ.

But God loves me, a sinner in need of His grace. From the depths of sin we can see the gift with fresh eyes. Salvation is not just our ticket to heaven but rather a glorious invitation to be loved and in a relationship with the Creator and Sovereign King, who longs for each man, woman and child to choose to honor Him by loving Him above all else.

As we journey toward another Easter celebration, I want to look with open eyes at the gift of salvation we have and the enormity of God's grace poured out through the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Gideon

Isaiah 40:11 He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to His heart; he gently leads those that have young. 

This week we went to western Cambodia to celebrate the two years that Gideon had on this earth. I am thankful that he is free of disease, but my heart hurts for his parents, big brother and his other relatives and the believers there. 

We got to go visit Gideon in February. Although he didn't feel good part of the time, he had enough energy to play with us and give sweet hugs and kisses. He loved to run, play with his big brother, and be close to his mom and dad.

I am thankful that we got to be part of Gideon's life and journey through prayer over the last year, and for some sweet moments with him. God strengthened my faith in His ability to do miracles and I see His goodness in Gideon's life and the ways He provided. I know that God will still work mightily in Sompovloun and am asking Him to shine His glory in the brokenness so that many might come to know and follow Him.

A few pictures from Gideon's funeral this last Wednesday:

Psalm 33:20-22 We wait in hope for The Lord; he is our help and our shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name. May your unfailing love rest upon us, O Lord, even as we put our hope in you. 

Fear

There's this really cool community called Velvet Ashes, a place for women who are serving overseas to encourage and challenge each other, to offer practical advice for the ups and downs of cross-cultural living, to talk about interesting books, fun recipes, marriage and singleness and parenting third-culture kids.

Each week they offer a one-word prompt, something to get a conversation going and open the door for encouragement. This week's word: Fear. What is it you most fear? I have been really challenged by the honesty of the women who have shared.

I have been pondering the question in my own life this week. There are many things I fear, but I realized each fear sort of morphs into one thing: I fear not being good enough. This has plagued me since I was a little girl, when one Sunday morning a well-meaning Sunday school teacher told me I was perfect (always well-behaved, etc). Perfect is pretty strong label, and I took it to mean that is what I had to be. But I knew that I wasn't, not at all. It was right at the time that my grandma passed away from cancer, and I didn't really know how to deal with the grief so I got angry. I would get so frustrated with my siblings at home (which I suppose is fairly normal), but I knew I couldn't let other people see that. I have developed this need over the years to hide my imperfection from others.

I wish I could tell you that I worked through this fear, that I have conquered it. There are times (many actually), I have given into the fear that I will never be good enough and have run away from opportunities or relationships, pulling away or simply not talking (sort of my coping strategy). There have been times when I have declared that I know I am good enough in my Father's eyes, when I have accepted wholeheartedly the love of people around me and stepped out to be brave and adventurous. It is constant journey, though, and I am no where near finished.

So there's my fear. What is yours? Check out Velvet Ashes for some honest reflections and sharing on the topic of fear.

Photo from Velvet Ashes

Oh Baby!

Everyone is having a baby these days it seems. My facebook feed is filled with the most adorable announcements and newborn pictures. I can't seem to stop hitting the 'like' button! Cute little pregnant women walk past me on the street here, and FYI, they have such sweet maternity clothes here!

God has given me great contentment in my singleness, peace at where He has me in so many different ways. I guess this is a very good thing considering I have YET to meet a single guy here in Cambodia with upright intentions, much less one who loves Jesus and who is willing to take me along on the adventures of missionary life.

Almost one year ago, a bunch of missionaries-to-be gathered at training in Colorado, and we learned to grieve. I grieved all the goodbyes about to come, being close to my family, having a clearly defined role, four distinct seasons, and even the wedding dreams of my childhood. God provided much grace in those days of letting go, of opening my hands and my heart for whatever God wanted to place there.

I never thought I would need to grieve having a baby. But it hit me, rather hard today to be honest. Like suddenly I want a family and a baby crib and adorable baby clothes and celebrating all their "firsts" (and I guess I would need a husband too to make all those things possible).

So, I suppose you can grieve once you are already on the field, at least I did. Journal in hand, I had a little time with my Father to hash this all out. "Why, Lord, does the plan for my life look so much different from everyone else's? Couldn't I just a have a normal life?"

"And who will go to the little villages along the Thai border, to the people who have yet to hear about Me? Who will go to big cities in Thailand, the islands of Indonesia, the hard places where my Gospel is not welcome?"

"Right, Lord. That's why I'm here. But couldn't I do that WITH a husband and a family?"

"Daughter. Instead of looking at the things you feel are lacking, the holes, why not look at what I HAVE given you?"

Sigh. The Lord is always good like that, pointing me towards His grace, His gifts. Perhaps I won't be a mommy, but I can be an auntie to so many other adorable children (one of my favorite memories was being "Auntie Sarah" while at training last year)! I can be an influence in the life of others who might be lacking a good role model at home. Just as Hannah begged God to provide a son, I can go before God on behalf of the Khmer people and ask for a multitude of sons and daughters of the King of Kings in this place.

Throwing a Party

I have been throwing a little party this week, but not necessarily the kind you would want to join. I have hit some sort of 9 month slump in the ups and downs of cultural adjustment I think, and I have had a little mini pity party going on in my head.

You can laugh at me if you would like, tell me I have no reason to be down in the dumps and I will smile and nod, because I know it is true. I am TRUELY blessed to be here, don't get me wrong. I love my language teachers, my daily routine, my friends at our Cambodian church, most days I even enjoy the Khmer language.

The past couple of weeks though I have been adding to a growing list of things that frustrate me. I have added up all the things I miss about America, all the comforts I used to enjoy. They are just that, comforts, things I have learned to do just fine without. Things like baking cinnamon rolls or any baked goods because our mini oven element went out and only has the ability to broil and toast. Things like carpet, wearing sweaters (I never realized how much I would miss this!), neat and orderly traffic.

If I let myself, this list could grow out of proportion, I could stay down in the dumps and decide that I will catch the next plane back to what used to be my world, the familiar.

Thankfully, I was reminded this week of a verse in 2 Corinthians 4, which my supervisor used to encourage the ministry team in western Cambodia. Here it is:

2 Corinthians 4:1: Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. 

Here's what I scribbled in my journal this week as God got ahold of my heart:

--This ministry of learning language, the ministry happening in Sompovloun, our future work in western Cambodia, is only possible through God's mercy. It is not that we are amazing, because we definitely aren't, or that we do things in our own strength or understanding. Our ministry is possible because we are dependent on God's mercy. Paul talks a couple of times in 2 Corinthians 4 about not losing heart. Apparently this is a tendency for workers or all believers! As Paul says in the chapter in several ways, our weaknesses show off God's power. It is not about us, but letting people see God's glory, how awesome He is, because He gives us the strength that we need.--

I am thankful for God's fresh grace and mercy, the way that He doesn't leave us when we get distracted or focused on the wrong things. In his grace He has been helping me turn my pity party into a celebration of His gifts, how even in the crazy traffic and learning to appreciate the "new familiar" I can rejoice.

How is God showering you with fresh grace? What are some of your joys, big or small? I would love to hear about them!

***** Sidenote: even with our oven issues, Kristin managed to make delicious brownies this week. Can I just say that chocolate is a delightful gift from God?

My Beautiful Nose

I inherited the rather large Hilkemann nose. I knew this even as a child.

From my mother:
"July 30, 1989. When the wedding was over and the ushers were letting each row of people go, Mark, Sarah and Beth were talking to a little girl in the seat behind us. Beth was pointing to the girl's nose. Mark commented about it saying, 'She has a little nose like Beth does!' Sarah then said, 'Yah, and I have a big nose like Daddy!"

Last weekend while in western Cambodia we went to the village of Ou Thmaa for Bible study, and stopped in to visit an aunt that was a new believer. She was delighted to meet the foreign girls. Looking at me she exclaimed, "Look at her nose! It is so long! It is beautiful!" I'm pretty sure she talked about my lovely nose at least three or four more times.

I never thought I would hear ANYONE say I had a beautiful nose. There are perks to living in this country.

The Art of Bathing Properly

There is an ebb and flow to village life, a daily rhythm and routine. This last weekend, two very tall, foreign girls stepped into the current to live the village life for a few days in western Cambodia.

We did some things well: we slept on the floor of our friend's simple wooden house under a mosquito net with the music of a wedding ceremony nearby to accompany our dreams and the early morning chanting of the monks over the loud speaker to serve as our alarm clock. We walked down dirt roads, sat and talked with aunts and uncles and learned the proper name of what we had previously only known as stir-fried vegetables.

But we did not know how to bathe properly. The wash room at our friend's house was a water pump and a bucket in the front yard. Since this pump is only a few feet from the road, in view of anyone that might pass by, the first day we did our bathing with our clothes on. It seemed to work for us, but our new friends stared in wonder and whispered to one another. "They only washed their arms and legs and faces", one girl exclaimed to her sister. You see, the proper way is with a sarong or two wrapped around you to provide enough modesty while still allowing for proper cleansing. A neighbor was located who had an outhouse with a water supply so that the foreigners would bathe in privacy. "You must be clean!" they said. By the next morning the story had spread several villages away.

Apparently we have much still to learn.

Status

It is amazing how quickly things can change within a culture! In the last few months, Kristin and I have observed that motorcycles (the little 125cc bikes we call motos) have gone from a normal mode of transportation to a status symbol and way to be "cool". Big, 1,000 cc motos have made an appearance and have become quite popular with the young male crowd. It is not possible to drive these ginormous bikes slowly and carefully, instead you must zoom down the road, weaving in and out with no care for pedestrians. Coming home from the grocery store today I was almost run over by a crazy man on such a moto, who was more interested in impressing his girlfriend than watching the road.

These things are scary when they are coming right at you! 

It is easy to let other things define us, determine our status. It might be our possessions (even I wouldn't mind a lovely cherry red Honda Dream someday), our relationship status, our job, our degrees, our family, and the list could go on. Can I let you in on a little heart secret? Years ago when God was first burdening my heart for unreached peoples and far-off places, I delighted in the thought of people knowing I was a missionary. Somehow this vocation was a cut above the rest. "Perhaps now I will get the attention/respect/etc., etc. that I so wanted in high school," I thought, because somehow a title could give me a special status, define me. Oh, how wrong I was. First of all, living in a foreign country, carrying the job title "missionary" is NOT higher up on the totem pole than any other work God might call us to do. I was full of pride to think that it was.

Truthfully, all too often I look to outside things to define me, to give me a higher status. But instead, I need to look to my Heavenly Father. Here's what He had to say to the Israelites in Deuteronomy 10:17: "For The Lord your God is the God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes". It is not about our status but the Lord's status, which is AWESOME! He is far above what our little minds can imagine, ALL-powerful, and yet He chooses to love us. He chooses to gift us and call us and put each of us in a unique position in order to bring Him glory and speak His truth.

Love God, walk in His ways, serve Him with your whole heart, and obey His commands (Deut. 10:12-13), and don't let status become the idol of your heart! (#Preaching to myself)

This is much more my style- but purely for transportation, not status! 
(2011 Honda Dream)

Letting Go of the Pack

The British 1986 film The Mission tells the story of a Jesuit missionary named Gabriel who sets up a post in the jungles of South America in the mid-18th century. Father Gabriel meets slave trader Rodrigo, who following his murder of his adulterous younger brother has fallen into deep guilt and depression. Father Gabriel proposes Rodrigo serve at the jungle outpost as his penance, among the very people Rodrigo formerly enslaved and sold. In order to reach the village and further make restitution for his guilt, Rodrigo must lug a heavy pack up the treacherous trail to the village.The journey is rough as it is, climbing up a mountain and crossing a dangerous waterfall. Rodrigo arrives bedraggled and having almost lost his life a number of times, the pack weighing heavy on his back. He is greeted by the villagers, who really have every right to respond in hate and anger. Instead, in a beautiful picture of forgiveness, the villagers cut off Rodrigo's heavy burden and cast it back down the mountain. (Here's a link to the scene: http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wzhhFRqjF_o)

The Father has been making me aware of late how quickly I add the pack of guilt to my shoulders and carry it around. It is not usually a burden I should be bearing, but the expectations of others, my own expectations of my myself, fear of the "what if's" and pondering the "if only's" sometimes add rocks to a pack that is too much to bear and I struggle along up the path. Did not Jesus say, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light"? (Matthew 11:30) Last Sunday we arrived at our normal time for church and someone invited us to join the young adult Bible study. It had already been going on for 40 minutes with only a few minutes left. I found myself thinking, "We shouldn't be interrupting their time so late! They are going to wonder why we are there. We will just be a bother!" (I am sure this comes from my western view of the importance of time) Today was one of those days when the words swirled around in my head and did not get organized enough to come out of my mouth in an orderly fashion. I came home from class thinking that surely after 7 months here I would be done with frustrating language days! Maybe I am not cut out to learn this language or any language.

"Wait, daughter," I hear the Father saying. "Is that your burden to bear?" Do I need to feel guilt for what others might think, when I don't even know what that might be? Will there not be frustrating days no matter where I am, or what language I am speaking? Here's the invitation found in Matthew 11:28-29: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls". Rest, learn grace, extend grace. Cut off that pack and let it roll down the mountain, knowing freedom and forgiveness always in Christ. Am I bearing my own heavy burden, adding unnecessary rocks of guilt, or am I taking up the light burden of Christ?