She sometimes felt like a plant taken out of rich Cambodian soil. Uprooted. Strangely, the US no longer felt like home to her. She was re-learning. Most of her reactions or impulses, wrong. 

Her mind constantly wondered. Her focus unresolved. The silliest thing, a flood of memories.

She felt as though she belonged in a village. It’s the same feeling she felt 8 years ago, uprooted, committed to a land that didn’t feel as comfortable as "home" should. 

The people she had loved there had been a home. 

Where God's peace and provision abound, that is home. 

She is "homesick", and can’t help tears at the most sporadic and inconvenient times. Confused. 

Thankful for sunglasses. 

She smiles to herself - a different person had come home. She was a woman, and not a 20-something girl anymore. She had loved and learned and worked and grown. 

And as it had done to others before her, the beauty and struggles of Cambodians and all she had become there crept into her soul. It is now her. And it was hard to find it applicable. 

The lifestyle in the country she had been born to had largely become strange to her. She had become a different, worn, strong woman. And they wouldn’t know how, other than small glimpses or impassioned conversation. 

She smiles again. It's a terrible, wonderful secret. 

Here's a post that's long overdue.  But I'm doing some thinking today.


A day in the life of a Cambodian :: giving daily money to the monks or 'loke song' 

1 of 2 things that make me cringe is verboseness (the other is rhetoric).  I try to make blog entries short - sometimes too short - but enjoy this is good one today. 

Since monks aren't supposed to eat after 12 noon, mornings are their opportunity to do their duties

of sending blessings to the people or their ancestors of others, and collect food for their big meal.

Easy Facts: 

- They're barefoot.  

- They're carrying a large silver pot to collect rice.  

- They're also carrying a satchel bag to receive money, soda, cigarettes, incense and snacks etc.

In return for donations the givers receive merit or 'bonn' from the monks. 

Also in return for the donation, their deceased ancestors may receive part of what they give. 

Adults usually do the offering, but ironically the only pictures I could sneak 

- yes, you shouldn't photograph monks - 

were these of children.

When I look at these pictures, 3 things immediately come to mind... 

1) the cycle itself... seeking merit from a human you potentially grew up with (although you should believe they've been reincarnated).... in hopes of something better... but without a knowledge of what the specifics of 'better' are, or if you're doing well on that road or not...  

 Its hard to put into words but you see the direction my curiosity. 

2) the evolution of Buddhism mingled with animism (ancestor worship) has created an 

"unfair" system that requires monetary or goods giving to attain life merit... 

if you're poor and can't give...then... do you have no hope of life merit or eternity? 

3) kids learn this behavior from their parents and/or grandparents. They're coached, 

or asked to do it in lieu of the busy elders. 

Let's unpack it as it marinates.

1)  People never know if they're giving enough to gain luck and eternity. Buddha only showed them the road to enlightenment, not the road markers or destination indicators. 

 They are faced with the fact that monks use the money for many things they may not agree with  (such as travel, soccer games, and cigarettes), but resolve to the fact that their lot is suffering and

that the life of a monk is an elevated one having been reincarnated into a monk.  

    And for this suffering (and striving) they're gaining life merit and will be rewarded in their next 

life for it. 

Its nearly Neutonian. 'Twa la'al ban la'al'.  Do good get good. Except it doesn't level out. 

We all know a lot of good folks that didn't "get" good in life. Or bad that weren't repaid bad. 

Moving on.

#2  While Buddhism seems prevalent, what they practice is animism - the worship of ancestors for protection, luck, favor, and the like.  Most believe in reincarnation, 

stemming from Buddhism's roots in Hinduism (Buddha was born in India 563BC) 

and believe that a monk is the highest level of reincarnation 

(animals, plants, and other humans being the lesser and former). 

This style they've adapted and adapted to requires to give something in order to get something, 

and incorporates a fear factor that the original road of Buddha with 8 Truths didn't. 

What if you have nothing to give? The poor?  The widows? The young? 

How do you get 'bonn' (life merit)? 

Ask me about my funeral example. The believe system of Cambodia has invented a new way. 

#3  Sincerity, wisdom, experience, or intention doesn't impact the blessing being received. 

Does the monetary amount they give? Does the frequency?   

You can look around. You can talk to others simultaneously. You can smoke... with your shoes on.  

It also reiterates tradition or beliefs are, for the most part, handed down - thus highlighting 

the oversight or laziness of the parents in impacting the faith of their kids. 

Interesting stuff.  Over and under simplified for the sake of a blog :)   

If you could see the hopelessness and frustration with Buddhism you'd celebrate this even more!

Peace! Love! Burdens lifted! Joy! 

A common statement is 'I feel there is light in my life now!'

I wasn't there, nor do I know the semi-dry and stiff narrator :)  but I celebrate this down to my toes!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTo7fEVsIzI

*let me know if this link doesn't work

If you could see the hopelessness and frustration with Buddhism you'd celebrate this even more!

Peace! Love! Burdens lifted! Joy! 

A common statement is 'I feel there is light in my life now!'

I wasn't there, nor do I know the semi-dry and stiff narrator :)  but I celebrate this down to my toes!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTo7fEVsIzI

*let me know if this link doesn't work

For months I prepared and prayed and waited.  Then I finally got to share the gospel with Leang. But it was a train wreck. (That's for another time...)

Here's the bizarre part of the evening ::  I assumed there would be a deep connection to her husband of 10 years that passed away, and I could use that as a baseline. Let me explain...

I had a dream that he - Viesna - asked me 'did you tell my family what I know yet?" There was some back and forth, but in the end, he meant the gospel.  It was the most real dream I may have ever had. (And additionally we never knew if he believed or not. Interesting on all accounts.) Anyway,...

it was a prodding I needed. I've always been scared of the aunt and gramma who are devout otherwise. But here was my approach since Cambodians deeply believe in dreams
and the meanings behind them:
'I dreamt about Viesna and I want to tell you about it.'

Background: 

Viesna - my coworker for 5 years and helpful big brother - was shy but genuine. Soft-hearted.
He soaked up stories of Jesus, but couldn't process the hypocrisy of others. 

He loved the idea of a loving God, and even read through several books in the Bible, but feared a Sunday worship experience where others might judge or approach him.  

He threw out idols from the house, but told gramma he wouldn't convert so her heart wouldn't break. 

I rarely heard him raise his voice at home, and he loved spending time with his son, which is rare. 

You can see why I assumed they had a good relationship to the point 

she'd want to "hear from him". 

The day arrives when I've asked her to come to my house out of earshot of everyone else.  I'd practiced my words, I'd written and re-written what I would say, starting with the dream. I'd enlisted people to pray. I'd envisioned her hanging on my words as I talked about her husband of 10 years and then a full-on gospel summary. I estimated her questions and reactions.

I thought there'd be interest.
Nope.

Ironic, because gramma and I talk a lot about who dreamt about him & when, and what it means. 

Her (apparent?) lack of interest in him and in the gospel nearly took my breath away....tears... frustration....(not in front of her, or course).

It could be a coping thing? My prayer is that something resonated. 

So now as a sidebar I beg these questions about arranged marriages, intimacy, loyalty, emotions, connection in a society that is a dichotomy of community-oriented with family priorities yet very individualistic....

I finished my last day seconded (can you be seconded if you don't have a sending agency? maybe not) to Alongsiders International (www.alongsiders.org).  

That's a short and sweet sentence, but it was pretty rough to see the end of the 2 year stint. Without a doubt, friendships there will last a lifetime, but leave a void on a daily basis for now.

I'm not a kids person, but I whole heartedly embrace their value and imagery of God. They should be fought for, protected, and raised better than many find themselves stuck in.

I love that the office moved to a bigger space (albeit too far away for me to commute to). 

I love that they started in Vietnam, Senegal, Rwanda, and Kenya this year. I love that Pakistan hit 20 participants after much struggle, and that Cambodia tops the scales at over a thousand now.

I love that conversations are happening to help children and disciple teens in the Middle East soon.

I love the testimonies of young adults who were once being raised by a neighbor that treated them 

as free labor instead of a child that now say 'someone asked me to be their "little sister" 

and that changed my life'. 

Go, Alongsiders, go. 

And to the big brothers and big sisters checking on that 1 child in your neighborhood - showing love to a child as Jesus has shown love to you - go, alongsiders, go!

I've taken the approach to heart and have been walking with a few kids in my village. These faces.


So!  I'll be working in my village and the 2 surrounding ones - teaching, helping, providing, loving.

The monks and the village leader want to learn computer and English skills and my name came up. Well, I can't say no to that now can I?

The 2 local free-for-all dumps, some needed toilets, needed connections to water, some needed life skills  are also on my radar and immediate schedule. Oh, and I'm teaching 2 ladies to drive :)

In 2017 I'll incorporate something more.... reading, processing, praying over the next chapter - the US is my destination spring of 2017.  Yes, this chapter is ending.  (Good gosh, even to type that made my eyes water! This is gonna be rough.)  

Please don't ask what's next - if I knew I'd type it out here. haha  And if I knew now it'd be a distraction anyway, God will show me later. I want to be fully present here until the final day.

Last push. Finish well. All in. My best for His glory.

You may have heard me say I love the aspect that I'm a liaison - I relay things back and forth between new and mature believers, between 3rd and developed worlds, between Asian and Western contexts. 

I can't not share this one. 

Last week I heard a story - I saw part of a story - that rocked my world! 

I got chills then, I've got chills now as I type.

Pheakra (pek-raa) was a 21 year old Alongsider in Kampong Thom province. His "little brother" Thouith (do-it) lives alone with his gramma and he got to see the ocean for the first time at last year's camp where they both attended. 

For the last few months Pheakra was talking to his brother older brother about wanting to live for God more.  He just didn't know how.  He was tired of social injustices, drinking, gambling, and lack of faith in his village and family. Shortly after, he had a very real dream that lasted for 2 nights - Pheakra was with God and His angels - asking questions, worshiping, playing. 

The dream came to and end and Pheakra begged to stay with God. But God showed him 

his village and said he needed to go back. 

After the dream, it was second nature - as his brother tells the story - for Pheakra to talk about 'the real god', to sit with others, to hug (what?!), to pray with folks, to encourage a new faith most in his village had never heard of. And he was winning people over. "He was fully in love with God 

and able to tell anyone about Him" his brother told us. 

A very cool God-moment had happened. 

Notice I've been using past tense. Last Tuesday Pheakra was killed suddenly when he was 

struck by lightning herding the family's cattle in for the evening.  'runtaya bine'

(~100 Cambodians die of lightning strikes every year)

You can imagine the number of people asking why and spewing anger at God. A life gone at 21. 

The story continues.... 

An uncle lay awake the night before the funeral praying, but praying in anger. 

"Why didn't You stop this from happening to our family? 

What will we do now without the money from him working?

He was being salt and now won't grow up and get married!" he said. 

He fell asleep with tears in his eyes and anger in his heart. And he dreamed.... 

...his nephew was in heaven with a few others he recognized. He was laughing and worshiping, and when he saw his uncle he demanded he not be angry with God - rebuked him even and said he had little faith. The uncle tried to drag him back to earth, but Pheakra would not go, saying that his job 

in the village was done and that he wanted so badly to remain with God. 

The uncle shared this dream with everyone he saw, and peace & laughter abounded. It trampled a huge portion of grief right then and there.  

Smiles. Even at the funeral service. 

Thousands attended a funeral that should've been attended by hundreds to hear the 

testimonies of the brother and the uncle. 

They've recorded the testimonies of these 2 and put it on youtube so that the message of God can keep going.  (they've labeled it in Khmer so I'm still looking for it to pass on...)

And it is.  

God speaks to Cambodians in their dreams all the time.  I. love. this. I love it!

I love that the approach is different. Specific even, to the child. 

I love that God shows his power. 

I love that every time He does it creates a wave of faith.

I love that His character is consistent even though his approach seems unknown to me. 

I've never drempt of God. But maybe I didn't need to. He is what his children need him to be. 

And its all for His glory. 

Pray that the God of the harvest will speak in our dreams. Your dreams.