This past week has held an overwhelming amount of JOY. I am in awe of how well Jesus is captivating my heart and arresting my soul through this breathtaking country.
If you know me at all, you know that I appreciate structure–I love knowing what’s coming next and what to expect. Schedules become crutches I lean on heavily in order to feel safe and comfortable. Back at home I would sometimes just say “no” to tentative plans with friends because the idea of leaving my house without knowing exactly what I was going to end up doing was such a frightening concept. And, the truth is, my inability to relax and just let things be is a crippling weapon to my ministry. There is a time for structure but there is also a time for flexibility–and, in ministry, learning to thrive in flexibility is crucial. I had not been thriving in flexibility. I had been relying so deeply on a schedule and on lesson planning for the kids that I was beginning to lose touch with the true heart of missions: relationships.
Four days ago our host offered to drive us to our sister orphanage in Kampong Cham, a city about five hours away from Siem Reap, to visit for a couple days. He asked fifteen minutes before he planned to leave and our team scrambled to make a quick decision about whether we should go or not. I immediately panicked and announced that I did not want to go. I was finally feeling settled in and a road trip to Kampong Cham had not been on my agenda that morning. There was no way I was leaving the place I’d finally began to feel comfortable in with my established routine. My team leader suggested we all pray about such a last-minute decision, so I closed my eyes and reluctantly asked God to give me some guidance. Or, rather, I said: Jesus, please don’t tell me to go to Kampong Cham. I like it here and I don’t want to leave, even for a short amount of time.
Guess what Jesus told me in return? Go.
I’d be lying if I said I responded in willing obedience. I marched into my room, threw a couple articles of clothing into a backpack with my sleeping bag, and fought back tears as I hugged the kids goodbye. Then I piled into a van with our host, his mom, his kid, his wife, and his wife’s brother and sister. Me and the other four team members who’d also felt led to go to Kampong Cham squished into the backseat. We waved goodbye to our remaining teammates staying at the orphanage (including our team leader) and listened to Ed Sheeran, One Call Away by Charlie Puth, and random Khmer songs for the next five hours. Despite the rush and the panic I’d been feeling, there was an undeniable sense of peace as we road tripped through Cambodia with our host’s family. I’d said yes, albeit grudgingly, and God was holding me in the palm of His hand.
The first night in Kampong Cham was a stressful one. I won’t tell the full story, but most of the evening looked like bucket showering in the pitch black darkness of 11:00 pm during a lightning storm and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.
It was the following day when God really did a work on my heart. Our host drove us through Kampong Cham with his wife and his wife’s sister, showing us the little treasures the city had to offer. My favorite stop was the huge tower that overlooked the city. The inside of it was filled with flights of rickety metal ladders leading to a small balcony that wrapped around the top of the tower. The balcony overlooked the city and the countryside below, offering a perfect view to the flooded farmland and the crisscrossing roads beneath us. I’ve always been afraid of heights, but my fear lifted once I reached the top and got to look out on the wonders of Cambodia spread out all around me. There was nothing but elation and love. I fell head over heels in love with Cambodia at that moment and I felt the Lord reminding me that I hadn’t wanted to come at all. In obeying Him, He’d blessed me a thousand times over through the exhilaration of climbing the tower and the opening of my heart to Cambodia. My heart filled to the brim with the unrestrained sense of joy that came with these realizations.
Later that evening, back at our temporary home near the orphanage, I danced in the rain with my teammates and embraced the joy that flooded my soul. Barefoot in the mud, my clothes clinging wetly to my skin, I let go of my need for structure and my craving for a plan. Life with Jesus is not planned and it is not expected. It sometimes looks like writing out a lesson plan for VBS or English teaching…but, more often, it looks like a spontaneous road trip, spinning in the rain, and falling in love with the heart of Jesus. Walking with Him will often mean venturing into the unknown, but the unknown holds more joy, more passion, and more healing through brokenness than the known ever will.
A photo of me sitting on top of the tower overlooking the city of Kampong Cham!
