Marty's Daily Diary #15
#1 - to transform communities so that injustice isn't acceptable any more
#2 - Sway Pak is a "cesspool." There is no other word that I can use right now. ... BUT the Kingdom of God is in-breaking in it.
#3 - But at the end of this very hard day 2 I am also full of HOPE.
#4 - help me to use these [God-given] opportunities
#5 - I had the holy privilege of painting that shower
#6 - Today I saw some of hevaen's angels
#7 - Perhaps today is the day I will look back on for the rest of my ministry as the day I sincerely prayed that I would never again pray the Lord's prayer from my memory but rather from my gut.
#8 - So what about Rahab's House? Could it be the yeast that is needed in Svay Pak?
#9 - I am not very fond of this place.
#10 - Is the work we are doing in Svay Pak so profound that the devil is trying everything to disrupt this work and frustrate us?
#11 - 2 worlds colliding - Two worlds where evil is manipulating and controlling, and the kingdom of God is freeing and life fulfilling.
#12 - What makes someone rob a child of their innocence for 'pleasure' in 'room 9?'
#13 - These stairs have led children up to a hell-hole of iniquity like nothing we can imagine in our darkest nightmares. But now I pray that these stairs will lead child after child after child up in to the new shining rooms where they will hear about Jesus.
#14 - Instead of asking "where is God?" I need to be asking "where are God's people?"
We arrived back from Cambodia on May 18th, 3 1/2 weeks ago. So much has happened since then. I am back to work, preaching, being interviewed, preparing stuff, meetings, lunches, conversation after conversation, and 1 game of golf. Life is back to "normal." Talk of Cambodia and our "trip" have, for all intense purposes, vanished. What did I expect, really?
But I am still trying to deal with those 2 weeks. I journaled everyday during it and my thoughts and the thoughts of the rest of the team still resound in my head. So many questions. So many emotions. So many challenges. How have I changed? Have I? How have the rest of us changed? Have we? Will this change my view of my future ministry? Has it?
When I get a chance to stop whatever I am doing my thoughts often go back to Rahab's House and I wonder what is happeneing right now in that place? I can still see some of the faces of the kids. I can still see the garbage heap. I can still see Sochea and Clay and the rest of the blessed people who are devoting their lives to God's work there. I yearn to know if the place is making a difference. I yearn to know what God's kingdom is looking like right now in that cesspool.
Things are not "resolved" for me but I know that is OK. I don't like loose ends. If I begin to watch a movie late at night then I'm in for a late night - I need to see the end. I would love to see the end to this story, to this place, to this part in the in-breaking kingdom. Wouldn't you?
But the more I think about it the more I realise that I saw something even greater. I have read our team's diary entries and I think most of us have asked if we really have made a difference? Physically we have - the photos prove it, but is that all? I have found a profound sense of peace that we witnessed the emergence of a "sacrament" in Svay Pak. As an "aspiring minister wanne be" as I have been called in the past by the "super-intendant" I believe that a sacrament, in simple terms, is an ourward visible sign of an inward invisible reality. The reality that I beleve and I know is occuring in Svay Pak, in particular through Rahab's House, is that God has moved in to Svay Pak and has setup His house, His business and He is working to do His will in that place. I saw God's removal van drive right in to the heart of evil and take up residence. I'm sure there is a song title in there ... "God is in the house!"
I will never forget Rahab's House. I will never forget Svay Pak. I will never forget those angels in ARC. (God bless you all!)
I have re-entered "normal" life. But it will never be normal again because I have seen God on the move and I want to see that happeneing everywhere I go. There are so many places that need God to move in and claim as His house.
I hope that God will use me, my family, my friends, my church family, and anyone else I meet to help Him move in to another house, wherever that may be.
God bless the continued sacramental work of Rahab's House.
All my love and prayers
Marty (a.k.a. Squirrel)
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Second thoughts....(Kit)
I was pleased with the work we did. We all worked so hard, and Rahab’s House looked so terrific when we were done. Sure, there is still work we could not accomplish in our time frame, but we got those walls down, we obliterated the Pink Room, we connected with the kids in a meaningful way…it was so satisfying, so wonderful…or was it? I’ve been trying to convince myself since I came home that we had done something significant in Svay Pak, but this little voice kept eating away at me, reminding me of my own word: ‘speck’. Weren’t we just a bright, eager, outraged little grain of sand on a mighty shore of degradation and human trafficking and sexual abuse? We, the little niggling voice said, were insignificant, we will be washed over, we will be forgotten . Who were we kidding?
I didn’t mind our work being ‘small’ – as I said early on in this blog, I am well used to ‘Speck Work’. I just didn’t want it to be futile. And that is what that voice was saying.
Then last week I went to the regular monthly Elders’ Meeting. We have started each meeting for the past few months by studying a chapter from a popular Christian book, and we settled in for another session this evening. But Grant, trying to recover from Cambodia, prepare for a week in Ottawa, be with his family, minister to a congregation, etc, etc, had actually forgotten to read his chapter. So, we decided that just for this meeting, we would put the book aside, and turn to Scripture. Completely on impulse, Grant said, “Let’s turn to…um…Luke 9, the feeding of the 5000”. God forgive me, I felt a flash of disappointment – what was there to discuss in this well-known story? And then Grant started to read, while my little world quietly turned upside down on me.
Of course! We WERE just grains of sand, just little threads. But in the same way that a kid with 2 dead fish and a bit of bread could actually participate in - be a living part of! - our Lord feeding 5000 people, and have twelve baskets of leftovers….we also, in our own tiny way, were making our little stitches in a heavenly tapestry. Suddenly the work we did in Svay Pak took on a wonderful, fresh significance for me. It mattered after all. It mattered to the One who counts the most.
I didn’t mind our work being ‘small’ – as I said early on in this blog, I am well used to ‘Speck Work’. I just didn’t want it to be futile. And that is what that voice was saying.
Then last week I went to the regular monthly Elders’ Meeting. We have started each meeting for the past few months by studying a chapter from a popular Christian book, and we settled in for another session this evening. But Grant, trying to recover from Cambodia, prepare for a week in Ottawa, be with his family, minister to a congregation, etc, etc, had actually forgotten to read his chapter. So, we decided that just for this meeting, we would put the book aside, and turn to Scripture. Completely on impulse, Grant said, “Let’s turn to…um…Luke 9, the feeding of the 5000”. God forgive me, I felt a flash of disappointment – what was there to discuss in this well-known story? And then Grant started to read, while my little world quietly turned upside down on me.
Of course! We WERE just grains of sand, just little threads. But in the same way that a kid with 2 dead fish and a bit of bread could actually participate in - be a living part of! - our Lord feeding 5000 people, and have twelve baskets of leftovers….we also, in our own tiny way, were making our little stitches in a heavenly tapestry. Suddenly the work we did in Svay Pak took on a wonderful, fresh significance for me. It mattered after all. It mattered to the One who counts the most.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
A Secret Oasis - Tim
Marty asked if I would put my little report about ARC from last Sunday (May 25th) on the BLOG. It essentially repeats my earlier blog about this encounter from in-country.
Imagine if you will a secret oasis behind enemy lines, a royal, shady compound behind high walls and security cameras. Secret because it contains the priceless living property of some very evil people who will stop at nothing to get it back. Even the neighbours think the place is just an orphanage. You walk past a swimming pool into a gazebo and sign a confidentiality agreement. The Cambodian male director, a great guy who by the end of your visit will humbly ask you to pray for him, leads you into two large adjacent 4 storey houses, almost like a hotel. An outbuilding serves as offices and staff quarters. You meet teachers and house mothers, see bright classrooms, computers, an infirmary visited by one of the country’s best doctors, breezy landings and spacious bedrooms with bunkbeds. Teenage girls sometimes appear or are furtive, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone. Some of them were rescued from Svay Pak in 2003, from the very brothel you are smashing up. You can’t believe your eyes that the little girls you’re seeing were on the market 5 years ago.
This is ARC, Agape Restoration Centre, or NewSong, same thing. 45 girls live here, rescued from rape factories and abandonment by parents. (you think, even the nazi SS loved their own children.) You know that there are 30,000 others still un-rescued somewhere in the country. You’re told it costs 10,000 American dollars to give each one the medical, psychological, educational, and spiritual aftercare required, and you get an inkling of the scope of damage done and the rocky road they’re on. In the mess hall you eat a wonderful Khmer lunch and Marty’s banners are handed out in a joyful and excited ceremony.
You sit quietly, watching, eyes front. An ARC teacher sits down and motions 3 of the girls to sit across the table from you. These are the ARC-angels. They speak with you in broken English about how they’re doing in school for what seems like a long time but isn’t, because you’re concentrating hard. Then, out of the blue, you’re hit with a sledgehammer. One of them asks, very softly, if you can be her daddy. Not her knight in shining armour to whisk her off to North America, just her ordinary, loving, kind, protective daddy. As you pick yourself up off the floor, dimly aware others on the team are standing with you, watching together this high drama, two things slowly dawn on you. First, the matchless, combat-grade courage it took for her to ask that question of you, who must look very like the hundreds of abusers she’s suffered from. Second, you’ve been granted the rarest, once-in-a-lifetime moment of privilege. You’ve seen, talked, and against all solemn instructions even enclosed their hands with yours. And because the girls once enslaved at Rahab’s House weekly go back to minister there, you’ve even been allowed to be partners with them in by far the best work you’ve ever done, with these godly young women, new creations, who have shared so deeply in the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings, and learnt about forgiveness and the power of God. And they don’t want you to leave.
You wonder who are you that you could be allowed anywhere near something so sacred. Then you remember the terrible, bottomline mercy and grace of first Corinthians 6 “you are not your own, you have been bought at a price.”
Imagine if you will a secret oasis behind enemy lines, a royal, shady compound behind high walls and security cameras. Secret because it contains the priceless living property of some very evil people who will stop at nothing to get it back. Even the neighbours think the place is just an orphanage. You walk past a swimming pool into a gazebo and sign a confidentiality agreement. The Cambodian male director, a great guy who by the end of your visit will humbly ask you to pray for him, leads you into two large adjacent 4 storey houses, almost like a hotel. An outbuilding serves as offices and staff quarters. You meet teachers and house mothers, see bright classrooms, computers, an infirmary visited by one of the country’s best doctors, breezy landings and spacious bedrooms with bunkbeds. Teenage girls sometimes appear or are furtive, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone. Some of them were rescued from Svay Pak in 2003, from the very brothel you are smashing up. You can’t believe your eyes that the little girls you’re seeing were on the market 5 years ago.
This is ARC, Agape Restoration Centre, or NewSong, same thing. 45 girls live here, rescued from rape factories and abandonment by parents. (you think, even the nazi SS loved their own children.) You know that there are 30,000 others still un-rescued somewhere in the country. You’re told it costs 10,000 American dollars to give each one the medical, psychological, educational, and spiritual aftercare required, and you get an inkling of the scope of damage done and the rocky road they’re on. In the mess hall you eat a wonderful Khmer lunch and Marty’s banners are handed out in a joyful and excited ceremony.
You sit quietly, watching, eyes front. An ARC teacher sits down and motions 3 of the girls to sit across the table from you. These are the ARC-angels. They speak with you in broken English about how they’re doing in school for what seems like a long time but isn’t, because you’re concentrating hard. Then, out of the blue, you’re hit with a sledgehammer. One of them asks, very softly, if you can be her daddy. Not her knight in shining armour to whisk her off to North America, just her ordinary, loving, kind, protective daddy. As you pick yourself up off the floor, dimly aware others on the team are standing with you, watching together this high drama, two things slowly dawn on you. First, the matchless, combat-grade courage it took for her to ask that question of you, who must look very like the hundreds of abusers she’s suffered from. Second, you’ve been granted the rarest, once-in-a-lifetime moment of privilege. You’ve seen, talked, and against all solemn instructions even enclosed their hands with yours. And because the girls once enslaved at Rahab’s House weekly go back to minister there, you’ve even been allowed to be partners with them in by far the best work you’ve ever done, with these godly young women, new creations, who have shared so deeply in the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings, and learnt about forgiveness and the power of God. And they don’t want you to leave.
You wonder who are you that you could be allowed anywhere near something so sacred. Then you remember the terrible, bottomline mercy and grace of first Corinthians 6 “you are not your own, you have been bought at a price.”
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Preliminary Team Report
On Sunday May 25, 2008 the Field Team reported back to the church about the mission trip to Rahab's House. Each member chose one aspect or area of the trip which they wished to speak about. An audio recording of this is available from our church website http://fairviewchurch.ca/index.cfm?i=4385&mid=18&showid=6107
Re-entry - Grant
When the astronauts of the space program return to earth they call it re-entry. From Mercury to Gemini to Apollo to the Space Shuttle and International Space Station missions all astronauts go through re-entry. Re-entry from space involves all the necessary preparation and then the intentionality of “heading home.” The transition is from one world to another – from weightlessness to experiencing the full forces of gravity. As the space craft ploughs through the atmosphere and begins to slow down the astronauts experience increased G-forces – they experience extreme pressure. They are also cut off from communications because of the ionization occurring around the craft. Finally they land (or splashdown like in the old days) and they are back home – home to a world that is much as they left it but a world they see as very different from their experiences.
This has been my 5th re-entry from Cambodia and each one has been a different experience. As I reflected on my return home this time I was reminded of the astronaut re-entry process. The experience “away” is in many ways “other-worldly.” Cambodia is a very foreign culture to us. It is also a country that was dismantled to the point of the stone-age by the Khmer Rouge and in the last 30 years has clawed its way into the 21st century. Svay Pak is another world itself where children are a commodity to be bought and sold and used and abused at the sick whims of adults who see these children as objects to be used for their own obscene gratification.
I have returned to the world I left but I’ve been in another world. I’ve experienced the increased pressures in returning to the “regular world” while still holding this “other world” in my soul. Those increased pressures we often refer to as culture shock and reverse culture shock but it is more than just that because our experiences were not just of another culture but of a very real evil. The increased pressure – the increased G-force – has been difficult.
In re-entry astronauts also experience communication “blackout.” As much as they might want to communicate with Mission Control and as much as Mission Control wants to communicate with them, they cannot. Much of the Field Team has experienced “communication blackout.” Some times it is too difficult to express what we’ve experienced and some times we just haven’t processed it enough to be able to express it – some things we never will. It is also difficult for the Home Team who want to hear but who are also going through something of overload as they’ve carried on in the regular world and supported the Field Team and families throughout. But there others who only want to hear that we had a “nice” trip and close themselves off from the pain of what we would share.
I’ve been in another world and returned to the regular world. I am so thankful to be back with my family. My family has always been very high in my priorities. This time in Cambodia has only served to reinforce the importance of my family to me and my relationship with each of these people I love so much.
Of course return to the regular world also means dealing with all the regular world stuff – this is my place of struggle. After being immersed in a world where every move is done with intentionality and is therefore meaningful, returning to the regular world to find conflict over the insignificant, debate over trifling matters and valuable time spent on self-gratification…well let’s just say my patience is a little thin at the moment. I am not suggesting that only things like the child-sex-trade are important but this experience does have an impact on one’s priorities.
We are home but our lives are changed.
We are home but we cannot look at the regular world the ways we did just a few weeks ago.
This has been my 5th re-entry from Cambodia and each one has been a different experience. As I reflected on my return home this time I was reminded of the astronaut re-entry process. The experience “away” is in many ways “other-worldly.” Cambodia is a very foreign culture to us. It is also a country that was dismantled to the point of the stone-age by the Khmer Rouge and in the last 30 years has clawed its way into the 21st century. Svay Pak is another world itself where children are a commodity to be bought and sold and used and abused at the sick whims of adults who see these children as objects to be used for their own obscene gratification.
I have returned to the world I left but I’ve been in another world. I’ve experienced the increased pressures in returning to the “regular world” while still holding this “other world” in my soul. Those increased pressures we often refer to as culture shock and reverse culture shock but it is more than just that because our experiences were not just of another culture but of a very real evil. The increased pressure – the increased G-force – has been difficult.
In re-entry astronauts also experience communication “blackout.” As much as they might want to communicate with Mission Control and as much as Mission Control wants to communicate with them, they cannot. Much of the Field Team has experienced “communication blackout.” Some times it is too difficult to express what we’ve experienced and some times we just haven’t processed it enough to be able to express it – some things we never will. It is also difficult for the Home Team who want to hear but who are also going through something of overload as they’ve carried on in the regular world and supported the Field Team and families throughout. But there others who only want to hear that we had a “nice” trip and close themselves off from the pain of what we would share.
I’ve been in another world and returned to the regular world. I am so thankful to be back with my family. My family has always been very high in my priorities. This time in Cambodia has only served to reinforce the importance of my family to me and my relationship with each of these people I love so much.
Of course return to the regular world also means dealing with all the regular world stuff – this is my place of struggle. After being immersed in a world where every move is done with intentionality and is therefore meaningful, returning to the regular world to find conflict over the insignificant, debate over trifling matters and valuable time spent on self-gratification…well let’s just say my patience is a little thin at the moment. I am not suggesting that only things like the child-sex-trade are important but this experience does have an impact on one’s priorities.
We are home but our lives are changed.We are home but we cannot look at the regular world the ways we did just a few weeks ago.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Kelvin's post #11 "Re-entry"
We have been back in Canada now for over a week and have settled back into what we consider to be "normal life". I have been thinking a lot about that in the past few days and now realize that what we have is really not normal. We live in a place where our landscape is green and full, our roads are paved, we don't need razor wire fences and pad locks around our homes and property, we have proper garbage pickup and disposal,we can drink fresh water straight from the tap, when we flush our toilets (with fresh water!) the waste actually goes away to be treated and doesn't just run a few feet away to drain into a swamp behind the house. These are just a few of the things that I have always taken for "normal" having grow up with it all. We are extremely blessd living in Canada and I will never take it for granted again.
The way that most of the adults interact with their kids is also a lot different, I never saw any of them playing or showing any kind of affection to the kids . I was told by one of the locals that as babies the kids are considered cute but once a child is able to walk and talk the parents lose interest in them (Barb's little sunshine girl and her mom were an exception). Is this because they do not know how to interact with their kids? When the parents were kids themselves it would have been around 30 years ago and alot of them have probably had to grow up on their own because their parents would have been taken away or killed. I do not know this to be the fact but given the countries history it is probably a fairly good assumption.
Another thought that ran through my head was that this may be a way for parents to disconnect themselves from their kid's knowing that some day soon they would be selling their little bodies to the highest bidder. If these parents have any kind of heart it must hurt knowing the torture the kid's are having to endure. It would kill me to know something like this was happening to my kid's.
The one big question I have is how did a little one lane dirt road town like Svay Pak end up being one of the worlds capitals for child sex? As was said on Sunday there is no sign on the side of the highway saying "Svay Pak, turn left 200 meters ahead".
There are things that go on in this world I will never understand and this is one of them. I just hope that this little project that our team has been a part of will grow into something that will push out the evil that lurks in the alleys of Svay Pak.
May God bless the people that will be working out of Rahabs house and may this place become a blessing to the comunity, especially to the kids.
Kelvin
The way that most of the adults interact with their kids is also a lot different, I never saw any of them playing or showing any kind of affection to the kids . I was told by one of the locals that as babies the kids are considered cute but once a child is able to walk and talk the parents lose interest in them (Barb's little sunshine girl and her mom were an exception). Is this because they do not know how to interact with their kids? When the parents were kids themselves it would have been around 30 years ago and alot of them have probably had to grow up on their own because their parents would have been taken away or killed. I do not know this to be the fact but given the countries history it is probably a fairly good assumption.
Another thought that ran through my head was that this may be a way for parents to disconnect themselves from their kid's knowing that some day soon they would be selling their little bodies to the highest bidder. If these parents have any kind of heart it must hurt knowing the torture the kid's are having to endure. It would kill me to know something like this was happening to my kid's.
The one big question I have is how did a little one lane dirt road town like Svay Pak end up being one of the worlds capitals for child sex? As was said on Sunday there is no sign on the side of the highway saying "Svay Pak, turn left 200 meters ahead".
There are things that go on in this world I will never understand and this is one of them. I just hope that this little project that our team has been a part of will grow into something that will push out the evil that lurks in the alleys of Svay Pak.
May God bless the people that will be working out of Rahabs house and may this place become a blessing to the comunity, especially to the kids.
Kelvin
Monday, May 26, 2008
Our Early (EARLY) Morning Reflections in Cambodia (Kit)
As requested, here is the list of the Bible verses we read and were sustained by during our time in Cambodia. I deliberately chose familiar and much-loved verses/passages for these times. We followed with a time of prayer with a different team member 'closing' for us each day.
Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand
Micah 6:8
He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.
Psalm 46:10
Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.
1 Corinthians 3:16
Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you?
Psalm 25: 4-5
Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
1 Peter 5: 6-7
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
Proverbs 16:3
Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.
Romans 12: 1a ( from The Message)
So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.
Hebrews 12:1-2 (after briefly talking about the wonderful catalogue of ‘the faithful’ in Chapter 11. The picture is of a race, not a sprint, but an ‘in-it-for-the-long-haul’ run. And I just HAD to slip my beloved Hebrews 11-12 in somewhere!
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Psalm 28:7
The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.
Joshua 2: 1-13
Then Joshua son of Nun secretly sent two spies from Shittim. "Go, look over the land," he said, "especially Jericho." So they went and entered the house of a prostitute named Rahab and stayed there. 2 The king of Jericho was told, "Look! Some of the Israelites have come here tonight to spy out the land." 3 So the king of Jericho sent this message to Rahab: "Bring out the men who came to you and entered your house, because they have come to spy out the whole land." 4 But the woman had taken the two men and hidden them. She said, "Yes, the men came to me, but I did not know where they had come from. 5 At dusk, when it was time to close the city gate, the men left. I don't know which way they went. Go after them quickly. You may catch up with them." 6 (But she had taken them up to the roof and hidden them under the stalks of flax she had laid out on the roof.) 7 So the men set out in pursuit of the spies on the road that leads to the fords of the Jordan, and as soon as the pursuers had gone out, the gate was shut.
8 Before the spies lay down for the night, she went up on the roof 9 and said to them, "I know that the LORD has given this land to you and that a great fear of you has fallen on us, so that all who live in this country are melting in fear because of you. 10 We have heard how the LORD dried up the water of the Red Sea for you when you came out of Egypt, and what you did to Sihon and Og, the two kings of the Amorites east of the Jordan, whom you completely destroyed. 11 When we heard of it, our hearts melted and everyone's courage failed because of you, for the LORD your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below. 12 Now then, please swear to me by the LORD that you will show kindness to my family, because I have shown kindness to you. Give me a sure sign 13 that you will spare the lives of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them, and that you will save us from death."
1 Peter 3:14 (this was when Jeff was so ill and in hospital).
But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what [others] fear - do not be frightened. Take courage.
2 Peter 1:2-8
Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.
3His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 4Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.
5For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; 6and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; 7and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. 8For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand
Micah 6:8
He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.
Psalm 46:10
Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.
1 Corinthians 3:16
Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you?
Psalm 25: 4-5
Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
1 Peter 5: 6-7
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
Proverbs 16:3
Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.
Romans 12: 1a ( from The Message)
So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.
Hebrews 12:1-2 (after briefly talking about the wonderful catalogue of ‘the faithful’ in Chapter 11. The picture is of a race, not a sprint, but an ‘in-it-for-the-long-haul’ run. And I just HAD to slip my beloved Hebrews 11-12 in somewhere!
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Psalm 28:7
The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.
Joshua 2: 1-13
Then Joshua son of Nun secretly sent two spies from Shittim. "Go, look over the land," he said, "especially Jericho." So they went and entered the house of a prostitute named Rahab and stayed there. 2 The king of Jericho was told, "Look! Some of the Israelites have come here tonight to spy out the land." 3 So the king of Jericho sent this message to Rahab: "Bring out the men who came to you and entered your house, because they have come to spy out the whole land." 4 But the woman had taken the two men and hidden them. She said, "Yes, the men came to me, but I did not know where they had come from. 5 At dusk, when it was time to close the city gate, the men left. I don't know which way they went. Go after them quickly. You may catch up with them." 6 (But she had taken them up to the roof and hidden them under the stalks of flax she had laid out on the roof.) 7 So the men set out in pursuit of the spies on the road that leads to the fords of the Jordan, and as soon as the pursuers had gone out, the gate was shut.
8 Before the spies lay down for the night, she went up on the roof 9 and said to them, "I know that the LORD has given this land to you and that a great fear of you has fallen on us, so that all who live in this country are melting in fear because of you. 10 We have heard how the LORD dried up the water of the Red Sea for you when you came out of Egypt, and what you did to Sihon and Og, the two kings of the Amorites east of the Jordan, whom you completely destroyed. 11 When we heard of it, our hearts melted and everyone's courage failed because of you, for the LORD your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below. 12 Now then, please swear to me by the LORD that you will show kindness to my family, because I have shown kindness to you. Give me a sure sign 13 that you will spare the lives of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them, and that you will save us from death."
1 Peter 3:14 (this was when Jeff was so ill and in hospital).
But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what [others] fear - do not be frightened. Take courage.
2 Peter 1:2-8
Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.
3His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 4Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.
5For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; 6and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; 7and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. 8For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Am I Missing Anything? by Barb
Well, there are a couple of answers to that question:
1. Traffic – do I miss the crazy zany traffic of Phnom Phen? Well …. The streets here seem very empty and there is no challenge when you come to a cross street – green means go and red is stop; driving here is very orderly and there is no room for a challenge - folk don’t like you crossing the yellow line or white ones for that matter. Yes, I do miss not having the thrill of a lifetime going to and from work each day!
2. Blogging? ……. Not sure, but don’t laugh you guys – I’ve decided to buy a laptop! No Kidding! For those of you who don’t understand this – I was the worst blogger of the 10!
3. My Roommate, Kit? Yes. For not knowing each other prior to this trip, we did okey! I miss our glass of coke at the end of the day and our chats; hearing you say “okey, I’m turning my ears off now”; your caring and concern for all of the guys, your sense of humor and your ability to take a couple of verses and produce the most eloquent sermon!
4. The "Guys"? Far more than I ever thought! So different, so diverse, so very hard working, yet so compassionate about the work they were doing. Yes, I really do miss them all.
5. Rahab’s House – do I miss the scraping and scraping, the Polysporin, the kids playing, watching Richard playing soccer or being a merry-go-round; do I miss the hugs and infectious smile of Sunshine and her family – yes, more than anything.
6. Morning Prayer and Evening Chats – yes, that brought us all together and kept us focused as a team and as individuals
7. Rice and noodles, noodles and rice – no …… not really
8. Meeting Clay, Christa, Helen (from Aim, IJM, Chab DaC) and everyone from ARC; seeing Marie Ens and Rescue and meeting all those that benefit from her place of rescue – it was such a privilege to meet and see firsthand the difference they are making to so many lives in Cambodia. They are living Jesus every day, all day, 24/7.
9. Those amazing coffees every morning? – oh yeah – many thank yous Clay They were totally amazing!
10. Do I miss my little Sunshine family – yes, absolutely – every day and many times a day I think of them
11. Would I do it all over again? Yes, in a heartbeat.
And now, back at home …… what happens from here? To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. The 2 weeks in SP were life changing and are extremely difficult to translate into words – there is so much in my heart and thoughts that words by themselves can’t explain. The sites, sounds, feelings of Cambodia pop into my life here in Vancouver at any time of the day or night and give a kind of “home-sick” feeling. Only the Lord knows for sure what lies ahead and I leave it all in His hands, knowing that His ways are perfect and He is in control.
Thank you to everyone at Fairview and to my family and friends for all of your support.
Thank you to all of the folk in Cambodia – Clay, Christa, Helen, Marie and the Cambodian workers that we had the privilege of meeting – you all touched my life in ways you can't imagine.
Richest blessings to each of you.
Ah-Koon.
1. Traffic – do I miss the crazy zany traffic of Phnom Phen? Well …. The streets here seem very empty and there is no challenge when you come to a cross street – green means go and red is stop; driving here is very orderly and there is no room for a challenge - folk don’t like you crossing the yellow line or white ones for that matter. Yes, I do miss not having the thrill of a lifetime going to and from work each day!
2. Blogging? ……. Not sure, but don’t laugh you guys – I’ve decided to buy a laptop! No Kidding! For those of you who don’t understand this – I was the worst blogger of the 10!
3. My Roommate, Kit? Yes. For not knowing each other prior to this trip, we did okey! I miss our glass of coke at the end of the day and our chats; hearing you say “okey, I’m turning my ears off now”; your caring and concern for all of the guys, your sense of humor and your ability to take a couple of verses and produce the most eloquent sermon!
4. The "Guys"? Far more than I ever thought! So different, so diverse, so very hard working, yet so compassionate about the work they were doing. Yes, I really do miss them all.
5. Rahab’s House – do I miss the scraping and scraping, the Polysporin, the kids playing, watching Richard playing soccer or being a merry-go-round; do I miss the hugs and infectious smile of Sunshine and her family – yes, more than anything.
6. Morning Prayer and Evening Chats – yes, that brought us all together and kept us focused as a team and as individuals
7. Rice and noodles, noodles and rice – no …… not really
8. Meeting Clay, Christa, Helen (from Aim, IJM, Chab DaC) and everyone from ARC; seeing Marie Ens and Rescue and meeting all those that benefit from her place of rescue – it was such a privilege to meet and see firsthand the difference they are making to so many lives in Cambodia. They are living Jesus every day, all day, 24/7.
9. Those amazing coffees every morning? – oh yeah – many thank yous Clay They were totally amazing!
10. Do I miss my little Sunshine family – yes, absolutely – every day and many times a day I think of them
11. Would I do it all over again? Yes, in a heartbeat.
And now, back at home …… what happens from here? To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. The 2 weeks in SP were life changing and are extremely difficult to translate into words – there is so much in my heart and thoughts that words by themselves can’t explain. The sites, sounds, feelings of Cambodia pop into my life here in Vancouver at any time of the day or night and give a kind of “home-sick” feeling. Only the Lord knows for sure what lies ahead and I leave it all in His hands, knowing that His ways are perfect and He is in control.
Thank you to everyone at Fairview and to my family and friends for all of your support.
Thank you to all of the folk in Cambodia – Clay, Christa, Helen, Marie and the Cambodian workers that we had the privilege of meeting – you all touched my life in ways you can't imagine.
Richest blessings to each of you.
Ah-Koon.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Arms in the air. Toph
One of my most persistent memories is of the traffic in Phnom Penh, motos everywhere weaving in and out, each of them honking at every intersection, two to five people on each, helmets a rarity. In amongst them, every few days, there would be one with the passenger holding his arm in the air. Holding an IV bottle. Sometimes the bottle was wrapped in a black plastic bag, perhaps intending to offering protection from the sun, but in fact absorbing its heat, internalizing it. Welcome to outpatient care in Cambodia.
This is my image for the country: balanced precariously, dodging obstacles, sustained somehow despite reason, safety, and common sense. Business as usual, despite external circumstances, despite personal hardship.
Cambodia has endured so much in my lifetime—unprovoked American bombing, genocide, drug trafficking, sex trafficking, exploitative foreign investment… It’s a continual cycle, and the fact that the country persists at all is in many ways amazing. And behind it all is a culture that once created an empire that lasted five centuries, which built massive stone monuments with beautiful carvings that continue to stand, even though they were built without mortar, just stacked, liable to collapse at any moment. There’s another image of the country.
We’ve told lots of stories on this blog, but we haven’t told them all. Some are private, deep feelings that struggle to find words. Some are painful, with memories that clench our chests and make it hard to breathe until we choose to think about something else. Some are confidential, left unmentioned for issues of security. Some are sublimely ridiculous in their beauty, such as the SWAT-team efficiency of our stealth leapfrogging Presbyterians snapping photographs of pedophiles. Each of us have brought different perspectives to the stories we have told, and we have each been selective. In many of my posts, I have wanted to see hope in Svay Pak: but is this really saying something about the village, or does it just say something about me?
I know what stories I am omitting. I haven’t written about Room 8, and I’m not going to. It hurts, and it’ll be inadequate. So I always found something else to write about, and on the days I didn’t, well, I just didn’t post. But Room 8 stays with me, even though its walls have come down. I feel the hollowness inside me whenever I think of it, and I don’t feel better because it is gone. That story is just for me, I’m afraid.
Returning to life in Vancouver doesn’t involve forgetting, but it means we need to carve out a space for the thoughts we’ve had. “Did you have fun?” I am asked. “Was it a good trip?” Well, let’s see. I began to re-evaluate everything about my life and the world, and this process will likely continue. I’ve begun to realize more about human evil than I had ever allowed myself to think about before, and feel disgusted and ashamed, vicariously assuming responsibility for others. I hope to God that I emerge somehow a better person, truer to who I want to be. “Yes, fun. Very good, thanks.”
There are stories I am omitting.
The trip is over, but this isn’t an ending. Rahab’s house is beginning a new identity, and we will never know the details of what happens in the building. All we know is that we were able to make it a place that would better serve the rescued girls who offer community outreach there twice a week, better serve those who teach there, who offer medical help, who offer themselves, week after week, to improve Svay Pak. And we, who were there just briefly, who were balanced precariously, despite reason and common sense, are now holding our stories above our heads, wrapped in plastic, and letting them feed us, and give us life.
This is my image for the country: balanced precariously, dodging obstacles, sustained somehow despite reason, safety, and common sense. Business as usual, despite external circumstances, despite personal hardship.
Cambodia has endured so much in my lifetime—unprovoked American bombing, genocide, drug trafficking, sex trafficking, exploitative foreign investment… It’s a continual cycle, and the fact that the country persists at all is in many ways amazing. And behind it all is a culture that once created an empire that lasted five centuries, which built massive stone monuments with beautiful carvings that continue to stand, even though they were built without mortar, just stacked, liable to collapse at any moment. There’s another image of the country.
We’ve told lots of stories on this blog, but we haven’t told them all. Some are private, deep feelings that struggle to find words. Some are painful, with memories that clench our chests and make it hard to breathe until we choose to think about something else. Some are confidential, left unmentioned for issues of security. Some are sublimely ridiculous in their beauty, such as the SWAT-team efficiency of our stealth leapfrogging Presbyterians snapping photographs of pedophiles. Each of us have brought different perspectives to the stories we have told, and we have each been selective. In many of my posts, I have wanted to see hope in Svay Pak: but is this really saying something about the village, or does it just say something about me?
I know what stories I am omitting. I haven’t written about Room 8, and I’m not going to. It hurts, and it’ll be inadequate. So I always found something else to write about, and on the days I didn’t, well, I just didn’t post. But Room 8 stays with me, even though its walls have come down. I feel the hollowness inside me whenever I think of it, and I don’t feel better because it is gone. That story is just for me, I’m afraid.
Returning to life in Vancouver doesn’t involve forgetting, but it means we need to carve out a space for the thoughts we’ve had. “Did you have fun?” I am asked. “Was it a good trip?” Well, let’s see. I began to re-evaluate everything about my life and the world, and this process will likely continue. I’ve begun to realize more about human evil than I had ever allowed myself to think about before, and feel disgusted and ashamed, vicariously assuming responsibility for others. I hope to God that I emerge somehow a better person, truer to who I want to be. “Yes, fun. Very good, thanks.”
There are stories I am omitting.
The trip is over, but this isn’t an ending. Rahab’s house is beginning a new identity, and we will never know the details of what happens in the building. All we know is that we were able to make it a place that would better serve the rescued girls who offer community outreach there twice a week, better serve those who teach there, who offer medical help, who offer themselves, week after week, to improve Svay Pak. And we, who were there just briefly, who were balanced precariously, despite reason and common sense, are now holding our stories above our heads, wrapped in plastic, and letting them feed us, and give us life.
First Impressions of Svay Pak -- Toph
(This was my part of the Team's report back to the congregation, read this morning)
When we first turned off the highway, we entered another world. The turn was unmarked—no one comes to Svay Pak who doesn’t already know where it is. We rumbled along a dirt road and first saw the white façade of Rahab’s House. The folding metal gate, the building’s entrance, had been drawn, and the front room, clean and painted, felt receptive, with Clayton, our Aim4Asia contact, awaiting us. Inside were wooden desks, and coloured visions of Bible stories on the wall. For the first twenty-five feet, it looked fine, safe, healthy, with a wooden staircase leading to an upper floor; not like what I imagined a brothel to be at all.
I was wrong. Access to the remaining eighty feet of the building’s depth was along a thin corridor: two people would squeeze by one another if they passed. And off the corridor were the rooms. First, on each side, came the grey-white rooms, larger spaces where deals could be struck for the sale of children. And then came the pink rooms: numbered one through five along the right, and six through nine on the left. I can describe their size (about six-and-a-half-feet square, just large enough for a stained, wooden bench-bed) and the colour (a dusty pink), but neither of these describes the rooms. They were filthy; light fixtures dangling, dust and dirt everywhere, greasy cobwebs sticking to moist walls. And the graffiti, beside little flower stickers—scratches for help, with confusing messages proclaiming “I love you” over and over: Was this a script for the girls enslaved there? Or the words they had continually heard? Or a genuine cry for honest affection, from family, friends, or from God? We had no idea. Doors hung askew, wood was rotten. Behind them the cold emptiness of the cement kitchen, two fetid mosquito-infested wash-basins, and a squat pot gave way to the exit, which had been cemented over, to prevent any escape.
The weight of the evil on the place was viscous. And all this was in the dark, seen only by flashlight. We were sneezing from the dust, we were crying from the asphyxiating burden hanging over the place, and we were stumbling in the dark, both literally and metaphorically. And we weren’t alone.
Eee eee, we heard coming from the cold concrete darkness, eee eee. A few of us suspected it was a bat, and our hearts clenched at the prospect of our work before us. Eee eee. What were we doing in this place, why had we been called here, now? And were we ready? Eee eee. And that’s when we had our first little miracle: the cry in the darkness was found to be a baby kitten, trapped and abandoned by its mother, living in that building, somehow, alone. But God had brought us there at a time where we could rescue it, and give it the hope of better life and care. We had a purpose amongst those filthy, evil walls. Within half an hour, our sledgehammers had begun their assault on the remains of the brothel.
When we first turned off the highway, we entered another world. The turn was unmarked—no one comes to Svay Pak who doesn’t already know where it is. We rumbled along a dirt road and first saw the white façade of Rahab’s House. The folding metal gate, the building’s entrance, had been drawn, and the front room, clean and painted, felt receptive, with Clayton, our Aim4Asia contact, awaiting us. Inside were wooden desks, and coloured visions of Bible stories on the wall. For the first twenty-five feet, it looked fine, safe, healthy, with a wooden staircase leading to an upper floor; not like what I imagined a brothel to be at all.
I was wrong. Access to the remaining eighty feet of the building’s depth was along a thin corridor: two people would squeeze by one another if they passed. And off the corridor were the rooms. First, on each side, came the grey-white rooms, larger spaces where deals could be struck for the sale of children. And then came the pink rooms: numbered one through five along the right, and six through nine on the left. I can describe their size (about six-and-a-half-feet square, just large enough for a stained, wooden bench-bed) and the colour (a dusty pink), but neither of these describes the rooms. They were filthy; light fixtures dangling, dust and dirt everywhere, greasy cobwebs sticking to moist walls. And the graffiti, beside little flower stickers—scratches for help, with confusing messages proclaiming “I love you” over and over: Was this a script for the girls enslaved there? Or the words they had continually heard? Or a genuine cry for honest affection, from family, friends, or from God? We had no idea. Doors hung askew, wood was rotten. Behind them the cold emptiness of the cement kitchen, two fetid mosquito-infested wash-basins, and a squat pot gave way to the exit, which had been cemented over, to prevent any escape.
The weight of the evil on the place was viscous. And all this was in the dark, seen only by flashlight. We were sneezing from the dust, we were crying from the asphyxiating burden hanging over the place, and we were stumbling in the dark, both literally and metaphorically. And we weren’t alone.
Eee eee, we heard coming from the cold concrete darkness, eee eee. A few of us suspected it was a bat, and our hearts clenched at the prospect of our work before us. Eee eee. What were we doing in this place, why had we been called here, now? And were we ready? Eee eee. And that’s when we had our first little miracle: the cry in the darkness was found to be a baby kitten, trapped and abandoned by its mother, living in that building, somehow, alone. But God had brought us there at a time where we could rescue it, and give it the hope of better life and care. We had a purpose amongst those filthy, evil walls. Within half an hour, our sledgehammers had begun their assault on the remains of the brothel.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Three Little Words
It's been just short of a week since we arrived back in Vancouver. It's been a bit rough adjusting to the time change - not sleeping at night and making up for it at the office! It seems so long ago that we were melting in the sticky heat of Cambodia that it almost doesn't seem real. But then I wake up in the middle of the night (wondering where I am), and lie there trying to get back to sleep, the memories come flooding back. Or a picture pops up on my computer, and I remember.
I was asked by someone this week to sum up our experiences in three sentences. Being the non-stop talker that I am, I boiled it down to three words:
Amazing, Heartbreaking and Rewarding.
Amazing - I have not been anwhere like Cambodia before - a country of contrasts - the people of Svay Pak and Phnom Phen, of ARC and Rescue. The sights and smells, the garbage everywhere, the insane traffic, the food. The beauty of the countryside contrasted with the overcrowding of the city. The hot, sticky, humid air and the warm rain showers to the pounding torrential rain. The poverty and (for want of a better word) slums and the grandeur of the mansions, temples and government buildings. It is a beautiful, humbling place. We don't realize just how blessed we are in this country.
Heartbreaking - from the kids of Svay Pak, to the orphans of Rescue, to the girls at ARC, to the boy selling newspapers outside our hotel, to the girl carrying a huge plate of lotus seeds on the riverfront, to the boy dragging himself across the street begging because he can't walk. They are all children of God, but because of circumstances, they will not all have the same future. I got to know the kids of Svay Pak much better than the others. They are just ordinary kids who are looking to have fun, to be loved, to get attention- other than being yelled at or hit.
And yet they are in survival mode. They are 'sharks' - out for what they can get, because this is what they have been taught. This is all that they know. The only way they know how to behave. When a soccer ball that a boy has been given is taken away by an adult because they can make a profit by selling it, or they don't want kids playing in front of their home, or they just want it for their own child - what does that say to him?
Then there are the unspeakable things that happen to them at night. I don't want to believe that the kids I was playing with during the day were the same ones being abused at night - but I know that everyone is for sale in this place. Kids have no value here - except as a product to be sold. And when they no longer can fetch a good price, they are discarded with the rest of the garbage
You can see it in their eyes.
I really noticed it in the pictures. It was rare to capture their happy smiling faces. the eyes gave them away - sad, hard too old for their years. Their childhood has been stolen from them - just like the soccer ball.
Rewarding - Because the old, dark, horrible, evil building has gone!! the cubilcles, the ugly, cheap pink paint, the ceiling, even the nails are all gone. It has been replaced by a bright, open space, that can be used to redeem these kids and maybe give them a brighter future. Give some value and self esteem back to them.
I hope that our being there has left the door open to the kids and people of Svay Pak and that they will see it as a safe, welcoming place that they can go. With people like Clay and Ratna there, I am confident that this is the future of Rahab's House and the reason that God sent us there.
Rewarding because I have seen glimpes of the Kingdom in places like ARC and Place of Rescue and now Rahab's House, where the yeast is starting to spread and will keep spreading until evil has no place left to go. This has given me the proof that God is working to redeem his creation and there is hope for this world - and us.
I would like to thank everyone on the Field Team for making this such a memorable trip. and the Home Team for the support and prayers that made this trip a reality - and of course thanks be to God for giving us this opportunity and allowing me to be a part of it.
I was asked by someone this week to sum up our experiences in three sentences. Being the non-stop talker that I am, I boiled it down to three words:
Amazing, Heartbreaking and Rewarding.
Amazing - I have not been anwhere like Cambodia before - a country of contrasts - the people of Svay Pak and Phnom Phen, of ARC and Rescue. The sights and smells, the garbage everywhere, the insane traffic, the food. The beauty of the countryside contrasted with the overcrowding of the city. The hot, sticky, humid air and the warm rain showers to the pounding torrential rain. The poverty and (for want of a better word) slums and the grandeur of the mansions, temples and government buildings. It is a beautiful, humbling place. We don't realize just how blessed we are in this country.
Heartbreaking - from the kids of Svay Pak, to the orphans of Rescue, to the girls at ARC, to the boy selling newspapers outside our hotel, to the girl carrying a huge plate of lotus seeds on the riverfront, to the boy dragging himself across the street begging because he can't walk. They are all children of God, but because of circumstances, they will not all have the same future. I got to know the kids of Svay Pak much better than the others. They are just ordinary kids who are looking to have fun, to be loved, to get attention- other than being yelled at or hit.
And yet they are in survival mode. They are 'sharks' - out for what they can get, because this is what they have been taught. This is all that they know. The only way they know how to behave. When a soccer ball that a boy has been given is taken away by an adult because they can make a profit by selling it, or they don't want kids playing in front of their home, or they just want it for their own child - what does that say to him?
Then there are the unspeakable things that happen to them at night. I don't want to believe that the kids I was playing with during the day were the same ones being abused at night - but I know that everyone is for sale in this place. Kids have no value here - except as a product to be sold. And when they no longer can fetch a good price, they are discarded with the rest of the garbage
You can see it in their eyes.
I really noticed it in the pictures. It was rare to capture their happy smiling faces. the eyes gave them away - sad, hard too old for their years. Their childhood has been stolen from them - just like the soccer ball.
Rewarding - Because the old, dark, horrible, evil building has gone!! the cubilcles, the ugly, cheap pink paint, the ceiling, even the nails are all gone. It has been replaced by a bright, open space, that can be used to redeem these kids and maybe give them a brighter future. Give some value and self esteem back to them.
I hope that our being there has left the door open to the kids and people of Svay Pak and that they will see it as a safe, welcoming place that they can go. With people like Clay and Ratna there, I am confident that this is the future of Rahab's House and the reason that God sent us there.
Rewarding because I have seen glimpes of the Kingdom in places like ARC and Place of Rescue and now Rahab's House, where the yeast is starting to spread and will keep spreading until evil has no place left to go. This has given me the proof that God is working to redeem his creation and there is hope for this world - and us.
I would like to thank everyone on the Field Team for making this such a memorable trip. and the Home Team for the support and prayers that made this trip a reality - and of course thanks be to God for giving us this opportunity and allowing me to be a part of it.
Monday, May 19, 2008
The Team in Action
Do you want to know what the team did? The following video is the team in action, knocking down the walls during week one. Holy work!
First swings
Monday 5th May 2008, at Rahab's House in Svay Pak.
How it all started.
Due to network limitations whilst we where in Phnom Penh I was not able to upload these videos. The following three videos are the first swings of the hammers.
How it all started.
Due to network limitations whilst we where in Phnom Penh I was not able to upload these videos. The following three videos are the first swings of the hammers.
1. Helen from Chab Da Coalition
2. Christa from IJM
3. Grant
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Reflecting from Barb
It is Sunday evening in Taipei Airport and we are waiting for a 7 hour layover to end before the flight home to Vancouver. Some of us are just so eager to be on that flight home. And then there is me - I wandered aimlessly for a couple of hours, not interested in shops or people watching, but a little sad that this chapter is ending and wondering how the next one will begin. This past week I've met 9 people that I really didn't know very much about before this trip, but know without a doublt that God brought us all together in a way no one could have imagined. Yes, there were difficult days but we knew that God was with us giving us the strength necessary for each moment of each day. And that was only possible because David and the home team were praying for us non-stop. I could feel that every day but it was even more evident on Tuesday when Jeff and Kelvin weren't well. I spent my day on the sixth floor going between 2 rooms. As the day progressed I knew that Kelvin was out of the woods, but not Jeff. He really started getting alot worse as the team was coming back from Rahab's House and I just wanted Grant to come through that door so that Jeff could get better care along with an IV. Jeff went through so much. His inner strength was much more than any 18 year old I've ever had as a patient!
And then all of a sudden Friday came ..... the guys had worked so hard to get us all to this point - the scraping was done, painting got finished, inside and out. Kit put her last coat of paint on the door and on the cross, the loovered windows were all washed - at least the dirt was off them even though they didn't shine like when Windex is used. The kids kept calling for Richard for one last soccer game or being swung around as though they were on a ride at the PNE, only this was much more fun.
Sunshine came with her mom and little sister for one last cleaning of the wound on her forehead; it was looking better; mom was doing a good job - you could really tell how much she loved and cared for her little girls. Fortunately one of the fellows from Agape was helping us and he was able totranslate for me while I explained what to do with a tube of polysporing that we gave her from our first aid kit. It was difficult saying good-bye, yet on the other hand I knew that she would feel safe coming back to Rahab's House for all the activities that will be happening there.
I left Rahab's House on Friday afternoon, confident that God's love, grace, and compassion was now there and it will continue to be there because of people like Clay, Helen, Christa and the others. And some of the girls that were rescued from that terrible place are now going back and that is happening because of a miracle - they have Jesus in their hearts and lives. Only Jesus can change that dark terrible place. One of the highlights of my time in Cambodia was Thursday when Toph took me on a "walk about" around this little village. There are no words to describe how my heart felt, seeing such poverty, such darkness and deprivation.So, here I am reflecting on 2 weeks (I'd be here all night if I filled in all the spaces), wondering what it all means for me and for each team member. I can only think of the vers "commit your paths to the Lord ...."
Before I close, I would like to thank Kit for all of her patience, wisdom and love, taking me on as a roommate! God truly had His hand in bringing us together. And I would also like to thank all of the guys for all of their hard work and commitment, for their compassion, and their love for the Lord, and for the times of prayer and sharing - I will cherish those times forever.
It is now 10:30 pm so will close.
Many many thank yous for all of your love, caring and prayers that have followed each of us on this incredible journey.
BlessingsBarb
And then all of a sudden Friday came ..... the guys had worked so hard to get us all to this point - the scraping was done, painting got finished, inside and out. Kit put her last coat of paint on the door and on the cross, the loovered windows were all washed - at least the dirt was off them even though they didn't shine like when Windex is used. The kids kept calling for Richard for one last soccer game or being swung around as though they were on a ride at the PNE, only this was much more fun.
Sunshine came with her mom and little sister for one last cleaning of the wound on her forehead; it was looking better; mom was doing a good job - you could really tell how much she loved and cared for her little girls. Fortunately one of the fellows from Agape was helping us and he was able totranslate for me while I explained what to do with a tube of polysporing that we gave her from our first aid kit. It was difficult saying good-bye, yet on the other hand I knew that she would feel safe coming back to Rahab's House for all the activities that will be happening there.
I left Rahab's House on Friday afternoon, confident that God's love, grace, and compassion was now there and it will continue to be there because of people like Clay, Helen, Christa and the others. And some of the girls that were rescued from that terrible place are now going back and that is happening because of a miracle - they have Jesus in their hearts and lives. Only Jesus can change that dark terrible place. One of the highlights of my time in Cambodia was Thursday when Toph took me on a "walk about" around this little village. There are no words to describe how my heart felt, seeing such poverty, such darkness and deprivation.So, here I am reflecting on 2 weeks (I'd be here all night if I filled in all the spaces), wondering what it all means for me and for each team member. I can only think of the vers "commit your paths to the Lord ...."
Before I close, I would like to thank Kit for all of her patience, wisdom and love, taking me on as a roommate! God truly had His hand in bringing us together. And I would also like to thank all of the guys for all of their hard work and commitment, for their compassion, and their love for the Lord, and for the times of prayer and sharing - I will cherish those times forever.
It is now 10:30 pm so will close.
Many many thank yous for all of your love, caring and prayers that have followed each of us on this incredible journey.
BlessingsBarb
Week 2 in pictures - by Paul
We're all in Taipei at the moment. It is 10:00 p.m. Sunday night, so most of Fairview folks are just waking up and getting ready to worship together. It's strange to think that by the time we land in Vancouver at 7:25 p.m today, our Sunday will have already been 43 hours long.
I've uploaded a number of pictures, which will give some context to the blogs that have been written this past week. Enjoy them.
http://picasaweb.google.com/rahabshouse.paul/Week2InCambodia
I've uploaded a number of pictures, which will give some context to the blogs that have been written this past week. Enjoy them.
http://picasaweb.google.com/rahabshouse.paul/Week2InCambodia
on our way- Jeff
well today is the day. we come back home.
it really has been an interesting trip home. this morning i woke up and with all excitement started to pack up my things. i made my bed and found something i would rather have not seen. a BIG HUGE UGLY cockroach was in my bed. who knows it could have been there all night. this is when my thoughts were, "I need to get out of this country". don't get me wrong, Ive loved this experience and would do it again in a heartbeat, but this was just a little too much, and i would like to sleep in my own bed tonight.
we finished packing and went down for some breakfast. this was the first big plate of food that i have been able to eat since Tuesday and it was GOOD. i think I'm getting mostly better at this point in time. we finished up breakfast and did some last look arounds at our hotel rooms and headed off for the van to take us to the airport. we went through the city taking in the last few minutes of Cambodia that we would see.
when we got to the airport we found a Dairy Queen. so some of us had blizzards and then it was time to board. we got on the plane and arrived safely at the Taipei airport. this brings us to the now. we have to wait 7 hours for our last plane to arrive to take us home. we are all a little anxious to get on that plane. i think its the only time when we are dying to get on a plane that will take us 14 or so hours, but it will be worth it.
see you all soon
Jeff
it really has been an interesting trip home. this morning i woke up and with all excitement started to pack up my things. i made my bed and found something i would rather have not seen. a BIG HUGE UGLY cockroach was in my bed. who knows it could have been there all night. this is when my thoughts were, "I need to get out of this country". don't get me wrong, Ive loved this experience and would do it again in a heartbeat, but this was just a little too much, and i would like to sleep in my own bed tonight.
we finished packing and went down for some breakfast. this was the first big plate of food that i have been able to eat since Tuesday and it was GOOD. i think I'm getting mostly better at this point in time. we finished up breakfast and did some last look arounds at our hotel rooms and headed off for the van to take us to the airport. we went through the city taking in the last few minutes of Cambodia that we would see.
when we got to the airport we found a Dairy Queen. so some of us had blizzards and then it was time to board. we got on the plane and arrived safely at the Taipei airport. this brings us to the now. we have to wait 7 hours for our last plane to arrive to take us home. we are all a little anxious to get on that plane. i think its the only time when we are dying to get on a plane that will take us 14 or so hours, but it will be worth it.
see you all soon
Jeff
Transcendant and Imminent - trying to pull it all together (by Grant)
The first thing that I have to do while sitting here in the airport in Taipei is to aplogize for the use of big churchy words. I recently preached on the need for the church to use language the world can understand. I used the words Transcendant and Imminent in the title to this blog because those are the only words that would come to mind.
Transcendence is that quality of God where we see Him as being above us, greater than us, far away from us. It speaks of God's power and Lordship as He oversees all things.
Imminence is that quality of God where He comes close to us - Jesus is God come close. The Holy Spirit is the imminence of God where He is with us and even a part of us.
I chose these two concepts because that's the way I am processing the last couple of weeks. We have been very involved in the small picture, the closeup, the imminence. In the midst of thinking about that I am also thinking about the big picture, the wide angle view, the transcendence.
God sees everything in both views all of the time. God sees and loves the individual child in Svay Pak and He sees and loves all those trapped in the child sex-trade around the world. We have difficulting doing both at the same time which is not unreasonable. When we look at the big picture we can end up throwing our hands up in the air because the problem is too big to tackle - the evil is too fierce to confront. But when we look at the closeup as we've done the last couple of weeks we see the individuals, we see the victims and the abusers and those who profit from the trade. In seeing only the closeup we can become so focused on what we see that we can forget the bigger issues.
The first time I was in Cambodia in 1995 I met a girl named Kim who was living in an orphanage in the north of the country. She was 14 and had escaped from the pimps who bought her from her parents. She couldn't go home because her parents had sold her - she couldn't trust them and honour plays a twisted roll in this. I was disturbed by the story by glad that this girl was safe and was being protected. That same trip I chose to leave for home from Phnom Penh rather than spend a few days in Bangkok with Brian and Louise McConaghy partly because I just wanted to get home to my family and partly because I didn't want to go to a place that was so well known as a destination place for those who sexually abuse children.
When I returned home there was word of Canada writing a new law to prosecute Canadians who committed crimes against children in other countries. With Kim in mind I wrote to the Minister of Justice and urged him to press forward with the legislation. I thought that for me that letter might be the end of my involvement in the issue of child sex-trafficking and abuse. I was wrong.
Through becoming more involved in Cambodia through Fairview's involvement in funding the original orphanage building at Sunshine House and later our adoption of Sokna I learned that Thailand had begun to crack down on the child sex-trade - much of it moved to Cambodia. I have had an obvious connection to Cambodia for the last 13 years and the child sex-trade has been like a thorn in my soul ever since meeting Kim in 1995.
Marty loaned me a book by Bill Hybels and told me it helped him understand me - it is about "holy discontent." Holy discontent is that thorn in the soul that just won't go away until you do something. The child sex-trade in general and that trade in Cambodia particularly is my holy discontent.
I have known God's grace in this trip as I've had the opportunity of addressing my holy discontent in an "imminent," hands-on sort of way. Will I ever do something like this again? I doubt I will ever have the opportunity to do a job like this again but still I can speakout, I can make people aware and I can support those who are on the frontlines in the battle against the sex-trade.
I need to look at this issue with God's eyes as much as possible and see the individual child and the whole of the problem - transcendent and imminent.
May our Lord bless us all as we deal with our own "holy discontents" and as we see the issues through God's own eyes.
Grant
Transcendence is that quality of God where we see Him as being above us, greater than us, far away from us. It speaks of God's power and Lordship as He oversees all things.
Imminence is that quality of God where He comes close to us - Jesus is God come close. The Holy Spirit is the imminence of God where He is with us and even a part of us.
I chose these two concepts because that's the way I am processing the last couple of weeks. We have been very involved in the small picture, the closeup, the imminence. In the midst of thinking about that I am also thinking about the big picture, the wide angle view, the transcendence.
God sees everything in both views all of the time. God sees and loves the individual child in Svay Pak and He sees and loves all those trapped in the child sex-trade around the world. We have difficulting doing both at the same time which is not unreasonable. When we look at the big picture we can end up throwing our hands up in the air because the problem is too big to tackle - the evil is too fierce to confront. But when we look at the closeup as we've done the last couple of weeks we see the individuals, we see the victims and the abusers and those who profit from the trade. In seeing only the closeup we can become so focused on what we see that we can forget the bigger issues.
The first time I was in Cambodia in 1995 I met a girl named Kim who was living in an orphanage in the north of the country. She was 14 and had escaped from the pimps who bought her from her parents. She couldn't go home because her parents had sold her - she couldn't trust them and honour plays a twisted roll in this. I was disturbed by the story by glad that this girl was safe and was being protected. That same trip I chose to leave for home from Phnom Penh rather than spend a few days in Bangkok with Brian and Louise McConaghy partly because I just wanted to get home to my family and partly because I didn't want to go to a place that was so well known as a destination place for those who sexually abuse children.
When I returned home there was word of Canada writing a new law to prosecute Canadians who committed crimes against children in other countries. With Kim in mind I wrote to the Minister of Justice and urged him to press forward with the legislation. I thought that for me that letter might be the end of my involvement in the issue of child sex-trafficking and abuse. I was wrong.
Through becoming more involved in Cambodia through Fairview's involvement in funding the original orphanage building at Sunshine House and later our adoption of Sokna I learned that Thailand had begun to crack down on the child sex-trade - much of it moved to Cambodia. I have had an obvious connection to Cambodia for the last 13 years and the child sex-trade has been like a thorn in my soul ever since meeting Kim in 1995.
Marty loaned me a book by Bill Hybels and told me it helped him understand me - it is about "holy discontent." Holy discontent is that thorn in the soul that just won't go away until you do something. The child sex-trade in general and that trade in Cambodia particularly is my holy discontent.
I have known God's grace in this trip as I've had the opportunity of addressing my holy discontent in an "imminent," hands-on sort of way. Will I ever do something like this again? I doubt I will ever have the opportunity to do a job like this again but still I can speakout, I can make people aware and I can support those who are on the frontlines in the battle against the sex-trade.
I need to look at this issue with God's eyes as much as possible and see the individual child and the whole of the problem - transcendent and imminent.
May our Lord bless us all as we deal with our own "holy discontents" and as we see the issues through God's own eyes.
Grant
Leaving ... but it is not over.
Marty's Daily Diary #14
Having spent 2 weeks in Svay Pak and seeing and experiencing evidence of the atrocities that have occured, and are still ocurring, there, and having visited the Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng, one could be forgioven for crying out with the Psalmist ...
Is God here? Correction, there? (I am currently sitting at gate C8 in Tai Pei, Taiwan waiting for my flight back to Vancouver) As I reflect on the past 2 weeks and particularly the "colliding worlds" which are so evident throughout Phnom Penh and Svay Pak I could be forgiven, I hope, for answering 'yes.' I have a very limited knowledge of the history of Cambodia, but I have read some of the stuff surrounding the events of 1975. Did God leave Cambodia before then? After all, how could He let the Khmeer Rouge do what they did? How long has the abuse of children been going on in and around Svay Pak? Despite the incredible work of IJM in 2003, 5 years on brothels are still operating. Kids are still being violated in the most unimaginable ways. Surely, if God was present this stuff would not be tolerated one more night.
Then I hear one word resounding in my head, over and over and over again - 'grace.' It is so easy for me to judge the animals who live in Svay Pak and run these brothels, and of course it is even easier to judge the animals that pay to come in to these brothels, but if I am going to do that then am I not judging myself as well? I am drawing lines in the sand and that is a very dangerous thing to do. Am I to declare that I am better than these people and as such I don't really need a merciful loving Saviour? I would be a fool to even think this way and so if I am openly in acceptance of grace then I must believe in my heart, despite how hard it is for me to accept the fact, that God wants to offer grace and forgiveness to these people also. As such, that explains why God has not obliterated the village by clicking His fingers. But where is He?
If you have been reading our diaries over these past 2 weeks then I would urge you to read one other thing. Gary Haugen's book "Terrify No More." I think Gary has the answer to my query. He rightly suggests that I am asking the wrong question. Instead of asking "where is God?" I need to be asking "where are God's people?" Why are we asking God to act when He has given us the resources and means, and moreover the opportunities to get involved in God's in-breaking kingdom. As Gary says ...
"In such a fallen world of wickedness and pain, there is joy to be extracted by getting into the saddle with our Lord, gripping the reigns, and riding in to the battle. ... We were created for good works." (page 243)
"Not me," I hear you cry. "God is not asking me to ride in that saddle." "I don't have the skills to do it."
You are right. Kelvin, my new found buddy and the only construction person on our team, reminded me that it is not about us. He reminded me of just how "ordinary" we are. Ten ordinary people from Vancouver who God used to do His work. Perhaps God wants more and more ordinary people to realise just how ordinary they are. Are you ordinary?
I have no idea what the future beyond this trip holds for me and my wonderful wife in Vancouver. I have finished my training to be ordained in to The Presbyterian Church in Canada, and I pray that that will occur in the near future. But even more than that I pray that I will live every day as an ordinary person. I pray that I will see the world through God's eyes and act in the ways that God has prepared for me to act.
My time at Rahab's House is over but the work in Rahab's House will continue, every single day. And I know that there is a desperate need for Rahab's Houses all over this world. Perhaps we need to open our eyes and see them.
God Bless.
Marty
Having spent 2 weeks in Svay Pak and seeing and experiencing evidence of the atrocities that have occured, and are still ocurring, there, and having visited the Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng, one could be forgioven for crying out with the Psalmist ...
Why, LORD, do you stand far off?
Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?
Psalm 10:1
Is God here? Correction, there? (I am currently sitting at gate C8 in Tai Pei, Taiwan waiting for my flight back to Vancouver) As I reflect on the past 2 weeks and particularly the "colliding worlds" which are so evident throughout Phnom Penh and Svay Pak I could be forgiven, I hope, for answering 'yes.' I have a very limited knowledge of the history of Cambodia, but I have read some of the stuff surrounding the events of 1975. Did God leave Cambodia before then? After all, how could He let the Khmeer Rouge do what they did? How long has the abuse of children been going on in and around Svay Pak? Despite the incredible work of IJM in 2003, 5 years on brothels are still operating. Kids are still being violated in the most unimaginable ways. Surely, if God was present this stuff would not be tolerated one more night.
Then I hear one word resounding in my head, over and over and over again - 'grace.' It is so easy for me to judge the animals who live in Svay Pak and run these brothels, and of course it is even easier to judge the animals that pay to come in to these brothels, but if I am going to do that then am I not judging myself as well? I am drawing lines in the sand and that is a very dangerous thing to do. Am I to declare that I am better than these people and as such I don't really need a merciful loving Saviour? I would be a fool to even think this way and so if I am openly in acceptance of grace then I must believe in my heart, despite how hard it is for me to accept the fact, that God wants to offer grace and forgiveness to these people also. As such, that explains why God has not obliterated the village by clicking His fingers. But where is He?
If you have been reading our diaries over these past 2 weeks then I would urge you to read one other thing. Gary Haugen's book "Terrify No More." I think Gary has the answer to my query. He rightly suggests that I am asking the wrong question. Instead of asking "where is God?" I need to be asking "where are God's people?" Why are we asking God to act when He has given us the resources and means, and moreover the opportunities to get involved in God's in-breaking kingdom. As Gary says ...
"In such a fallen world of wickedness and pain, there is joy to be extracted by getting into the saddle with our Lord, gripping the reigns, and riding in to the battle. ... We were created for good works." (page 243)
"Not me," I hear you cry. "God is not asking me to ride in that saddle." "I don't have the skills to do it."
You are right. Kelvin, my new found buddy and the only construction person on our team, reminded me that it is not about us. He reminded me of just how "ordinary" we are. Ten ordinary people from Vancouver who God used to do His work. Perhaps God wants more and more ordinary people to realise just how ordinary they are. Are you ordinary?
I have no idea what the future beyond this trip holds for me and my wonderful wife in Vancouver. I have finished my training to be ordained in to The Presbyterian Church in Canada, and I pray that that will occur in the near future. But even more than that I pray that I will live every day as an ordinary person. I pray that I will see the world through God's eyes and act in the ways that God has prepared for me to act.
My time at Rahab's House is over but the work in Rahab's House will continue, every single day. And I know that there is a desperate need for Rahab's Houses all over this world. Perhaps we need to open our eyes and see them.
God Bless.
Marty
Counting the hours...(Kit)
I am sitting in Taipei airport as we count down the hours of our seven hour layover - before we head home on our nearly eleven hour flight. I will be home at 7:30 Sunday night - but...it's already 7:00 Sunday night here.....
So we are done. It is hard to put into words what a complex experience this has been. We are all tired, and all looking forward to seeing you all again. I can guarantee you none of us will be asking for rice or noodles for a while, but having said that, I am more aware than ever of the fact that we have choices in these things, when so many people would be glad to have rice at all.
And now that we are so near to home, my words seem lame. I type some thoughts and feelings, delete them, start again. Maybe I will do what some of the others have done and just jot a few memories:
We had ten on the team, but when we arrived, we met Clayton, and we suddenly were a team of eleven. We thank God for this terrific young man who was so helpful to us. I was really impressed with his deep faith, his respect for the people of Cambodia, his sensitivity in difficult circumstances. And those Vietnamese coffees!! Clay, if you are out there, we talk about you every day, as if you were an old friend. Please keep in touch. I'm sure Marty will be writing to you.
And at home, there was Dave and the Home Team, keeping in touch, the glue that held this Home/Field Team together
"Eight strong men and two ancient nurses". And it clicked.
Yoda
My Little Sharks: wary, cautious kids who had never had a chance to learn what trust is. Did we make a blip? Will they remember that there are people who do not want to abuse them? I see their faces before me....It was so great that after the first few days they started to smile, then to laugh, then to play with us. Leaving them was hard. Their faces, some beautiful, some tough, some already beaten by life, flash before me as I walk through this glitzy airport selling stuff to the affluent.
I remember a couple of the older boys (ten years? eleven?) who followed Richard around. ("Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!"). It was great to watch them come to trust him, confused at first that there was no 'deal', then delighted that he liked them back, knew their names, kicked a soccer ball around with them, swung them on his strong arms. I was there when he said goodbye to these rough little guys. I think Richard was the best thing that has ever happened to them. The clean, healthy affection between them as they hugged good-bye was very moving.
I can still hear the kids at Place of Rescue singing, can still see them playing soccer with the guys on the team and the tuk tuk drivers, and hearing the shrieks of laughter and cheers.
The door that ate the paint
The garbage everywhere
The unrelenting red dust
The girls who returnd to Rahab's House....the delight on their faces made all the work worthwhile
The moped fuel in pop bottles being sold roadside
The shoe store....
The insane traffic
New Song..
Jeff's hospital
Riding in tuktuks, feeling the sun, wind, dust or rain on my face, and even better, riding on the back of a moto. Now that was fun!!
The yellow Cross
The market...if I stopped to seriously think about it I would probably turn and run. Tough survivors there too, like the young boys who shadowed me, made sure I did not get lost (How'd they know that I could get lost in Safeway parking lot, let alone this dank, dark twisted maze of a market?), fanned me, took me to booths to buy things, treated me like a cherished grandma (hoping for, and receiving my pathetic monetary thanks )....and who offered their bodies and sexual services to the guys on the team.
Our early morning devotional times, and our evening check ins.
The girl in the yellow dress.....
Seeing pink turn to yellow......that was so wonderful
"What did your last slave die of?" That's young Marty speakin'.
So many memories, and they are crashing in on me now, but I better go find the guys before they send out a search party.
Thanks to each of you for your prayers, your emails, your love.
Alll praise to Him.
K
So we are done. It is hard to put into words what a complex experience this has been. We are all tired, and all looking forward to seeing you all again. I can guarantee you none of us will be asking for rice or noodles for a while, but having said that, I am more aware than ever of the fact that we have choices in these things, when so many people would be glad to have rice at all.
And now that we are so near to home, my words seem lame. I type some thoughts and feelings, delete them, start again. Maybe I will do what some of the others have done and just jot a few memories:
We had ten on the team, but when we arrived, we met Clayton, and we suddenly were a team of eleven. We thank God for this terrific young man who was so helpful to us. I was really impressed with his deep faith, his respect for the people of Cambodia, his sensitivity in difficult circumstances. And those Vietnamese coffees!! Clay, if you are out there, we talk about you every day, as if you were an old friend. Please keep in touch. I'm sure Marty will be writing to you.
And at home, there was Dave and the Home Team, keeping in touch, the glue that held this Home/Field Team together
"Eight strong men and two ancient nurses". And it clicked.
Yoda
My Little Sharks: wary, cautious kids who had never had a chance to learn what trust is. Did we make a blip? Will they remember that there are people who do not want to abuse them? I see their faces before me....It was so great that after the first few days they started to smile, then to laugh, then to play with us. Leaving them was hard. Their faces, some beautiful, some tough, some already beaten by life, flash before me as I walk through this glitzy airport selling stuff to the affluent.
I remember a couple of the older boys (ten years? eleven?) who followed Richard around. ("Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!"). It was great to watch them come to trust him, confused at first that there was no 'deal', then delighted that he liked them back, knew their names, kicked a soccer ball around with them, swung them on his strong arms. I was there when he said goodbye to these rough little guys. I think Richard was the best thing that has ever happened to them. The clean, healthy affection between them as they hugged good-bye was very moving.
I can still hear the kids at Place of Rescue singing, can still see them playing soccer with the guys on the team and the tuk tuk drivers, and hearing the shrieks of laughter and cheers.
The door that ate the paintThe garbage everywhere
The unrelenting red dust
The girls who returnd to Rahab's House....the delight on their faces made all the work worthwhile
The moped fuel in pop bottles being sold roadside
The shoe store....
The insane traffic
New Song..
Jeff's hospital
Riding in tuktuks, feeling the sun, wind, dust or rain on my face, and even better, riding on the back of a moto. Now that was fun!!
The yellow Cross
The market...if I stopped to seriously think about it I would probably turn and run. Tough survivors there too, like the young boys who shadowed me, made sure I did not get lost (How'd they know that I could get lost in Safeway parking lot, let alone this dank, dark twisted maze of a market?), fanned me, took me to booths to buy things, treated me like a cherished grandma (hoping for, and receiving my pathetic monetary thanks )....and who offered their bodies and sexual services to the guys on the team.
Our early morning devotional times, and our evening check ins.
The girl in the yellow dress.....
Seeing pink turn to yellow......that was so wonderful
"What did your last slave die of?" That's young Marty speakin'.
So many memories, and they are crashing in on me now, but I better go find the guys before they send out a search party.
Thanks to each of you for your prayers, your emails, your love.
Alll praise to Him.
K
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Reflections on Friday (late) - Grant
I stand in the bright yellow of Rahab’s House and I feel warm – not the sticky heat that is everywhere; I feel warm because I know this place has been transformed and God has used Fairview, even us, to do this great thing. I stand in the bright front room and feel warm but the smell of garbage is still wafting in from across the narrow dirt road; the screams of the kids who gather outside are getting to me (most if not all of us) a little more than they had been. The village representative who has been with us the whole time has already stolen from us and we watch him like a hawk because he’s eyeing everything.
I walk up the steep stairs for the last time. This used to be the “virgin room” – not any more. It is now a beautiful airy space that is bright with light and bright with hope. I pray with two others who had come up for the last time. It is a powerfully emotional prayer for me as we acknowledge what this space was and that it will never be that again rather it will be a place of hope – it shines with God’s hope.
I go down the stairs for the last time. I feel good.
I walk through what is now a wide open, brightly lit room and there is a sense of holiness about it. I don’t think I am over spiritualizing it to say that. So much of the work that went into making the room as it is was holy work – knocking down walls, chipping away at the bits of wall still attached to the floor, scraping off the pink paint and on and on the list goes. Holy means “set apart for a special purpose.” Rahab’s House has a sense of holiness to it now.
God has used us for His purpose and for His own joy. My joy at seeing this place in this condition must parallel God’s joy. God’s joy is likely bigger not because we have done such good work but because He sees the whole of the plan from beginning to end. God knows what will become of this place and the impact it will have on Svay Pak.
11 days earlier I cried tears of distress as I walked through the cubicles. Today tears of joy roll down my cheeks.
Our part of the work is accomplished. God had things going on in Rahab’s House long before we arrived and God will have things going on long after we’ve left. ARC is having a kitchen installed as well as a new tiled floor and movable dividing walls are being constructed. It would have been nice for us to see all of that work done but that would have just served the purposed of making us feel good. It is probably better that we don’t get to see everything this place will be because it reminds us that we are just a small part in a much bigger work that God is doing here.
I feel God’s satisfaction. I walk toward the open gate. I stand just inside for several minutes. The team decides to walk through the village to the highway to be picked up by the van there. I step out of the holiness of Rahab’s House into the evil and need of Svay Pak and walk to the road. God has a lot to do here and He’s got some very good people here in Cambodia to help him.
I reach the highway.
It is time to go home!
Grant
I walk up the steep stairs for the last time. This used to be the “virgin room” – not any more. It is now a beautiful airy space that is bright with light and bright with hope. I pray with two others who had come up for the last time. It is a powerfully emotional prayer for me as we acknowledge what this space was and that it will never be that again rather it will be a place of hope – it shines with God’s hope.
I go down the stairs for the last time. I feel good.
I walk through what is now a wide open, brightly lit room and there is a sense of holiness about it. I don’t think I am over spiritualizing it to say that. So much of the work that went into making the room as it is was holy work – knocking down walls, chipping away at the bits of wall still attached to the floor, scraping off the pink paint and on and on the list goes. Holy means “set apart for a special purpose.” Rahab’s House has a sense of holiness to it now.
God has used us for His purpose and for His own joy. My joy at seeing this place in this condition must parallel God’s joy. God’s joy is likely bigger not because we have done such good work but because He sees the whole of the plan from beginning to end. God knows what will become of this place and the impact it will have on Svay Pak.
11 days earlier I cried tears of distress as I walked through the cubicles. Today tears of joy roll down my cheeks.
Our part of the work is accomplished. God had things going on in Rahab’s House long before we arrived and God will have things going on long after we’ve left. ARC is having a kitchen installed as well as a new tiled floor and movable dividing walls are being constructed. It would have been nice for us to see all of that work done but that would have just served the purposed of making us feel good. It is probably better that we don’t get to see everything this place will be because it reminds us that we are just a small part in a much bigger work that God is doing here.
I feel God’s satisfaction. I walk toward the open gate. I stand just inside for several minutes. The team decides to walk through the village to the highway to be picked up by the van there. I step out of the holiness of Rahab’s House into the evil and need of Svay Pak and walk to the road. God has a lot to do here and He’s got some very good people here in Cambodia to help him.
I reach the highway.
It is time to go home!
Grant
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