Leaving My Heart Behind

I have been across the world, away from all I have ever known, for six weeks now. I never gave much thought to Cambodia; why would I when my life is so fast-forward? But this month it all slowed down. I immersed myself in the Asian culture and became accustomed to the simple life. I don’t mean the simple life like having a white picket fence, a nine to five job, and a loving husband to come home to at night and binge watch One Tree Hill with. (which is all SO great! Especially One Tree Hill.) I mean the simple life as in waking up every morning to the monks and roosters, showering with a scoop full of cold water and mosquitos, using a squatty-potty (Google it) with no available toilet paper or place to wash your hands, then picking out my outfit for the day from the laundry line outside that got rained on. And it’s still only 6am — time to take the motorbike through flooded dirt roads to the market and buy breakfast because refrigerators do not exist here.
That’s the simple life. The desirable, difficult, completely irreplaceable simple life that seems so out of reach in America.

This week I called my mom and wept. I didn’t want to come home to a culture where I am surrounded by luxuries and materialism so much so that the people all around me don’t see what matters most in this world. I didn’t want to come home to a place where all of the luxuries mask the true internal problem in our hearts. I wanted to stay in Cambodia where there aren’t any luxuries, but there is internal strength, leadership, and humility in the midst of extreme impoverishment. I wanted to stay where the people see what matters, where God is known, and where joy is found. I had new eyes to see how broken American culture truly is. I hated American culture and I never wanted to come back to what I felt like was a lifeless place.
Then I realized that not coming back to America would be like God showing me something beautiful and me choosing to keep it to myself because I wanted to be comfortable, when I should be sharing the beauty that I witnessed. In the same way, I feel like I need to bring the beauty of Cambodia to America. I need to empower others to see palm fronds as umbrellas. To see sticks and rocks as canvases. I need to be the first to slow down and simply be present with who I am surrounded by, inviting others into this through demonstrating vulnerability. I need to take the time to go on a walk to get ice cream with my friends…with absolutely no wifi access. In the same way I need not to forget my experience in Cambodia so that I can be a voice for the forgotten. I need to walk through puddles and remember the time I walked through a flooded neighborhood to get to a tuk tuk (Google it). When I turn on the faucet back home, I need to remember how I used a water bottle to brush my teeth every day. I need to slow down and remember what matters when I get frustrated because my hair isn’t doing what I want it to do. I need to be bold and initiate life-giving conversations with strangers when I’m in a waiting room rather than growing irritable and impatient.
Cambodia was externally broken, but the people were internally thriving. This is where I found my peace in leaving the kids as I ventured on to my teams next ministry site in Thailand. God places beauty in every country, from the 1st world countries to the 3rd world countries — just in different ways.
Cambodia, a country I never gave much thought to, will now always have an irreplaceable piece of my heart on the other side of the world forever. God has placed a unique beauty in its impoverishment. Today my team and I are on a 14 hour bus ride to Phuket, Thailand and the lifestyle I lived in Cambodia already seems out of reach and the memories are fading. I have peace leaving the orphanage knowing that God has been there before me and he will be there after me. Friends, I can tell you this…God is alive in Cambodia!