not your thoughts

I nearly laughed out loud at the market today while admiring beautiful handcrafted silk banners printed with bible verses. Flipping through the banners on display, a bright teal banner caught my eye. It was printed in English & Khmer with Isaiah 55:8 & 9:

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways." declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts."

If any scripture could summarize this journey to Cambodia, that would be it. The Lord told me to come, and I came. Riding in our Tuk Tuk this afternoon with Noelle & Gretchen, I confessed that I still do not understand why the Lord brought me here. That reality frustrates me, but the awesome things is this: it doesn't matter. Because the Lord's thoughts are not mine. His ways are so far beyond what I can see, or know, or understand. And as much and as often that frustrates me, it is good. The Lord is good. And He has ben breaking down what I thought I understood about loving him & serving him. He has leveled what I thought I knew about loving Jesus and loving people. And that is so very good. And the best part? He's beginning to rebuild it. More to come on that later.

It's hard to believe only a week remains of my time in Cambodia. These last three weeks have been wonderful, challenging, exhausting, tearful, encouraging, difficult & restful by turns. Most of my working hours are spent at Punlok Thmey, HPC's boys center. PT is near the riverfront, a block or two over from Phnom Penh's red light district. The boys are a handful and so wonderful. It's a joy to see their smiling faces each day as they tumble over each other coming through the front door. As HPC prepares to open a girls center this fall, we have been able to hold a girls class at the boys center. Anywhere from five to fifteen girls come monday through thursday for a couple hours in the morning. We have small classroom where Gretchen & Noelle teach the girls english, make crafts that reflect their english lesson, color & paint pictures, and learn about Jesus. Last week, I was able to help out with the girls class a few days. What a gift! The girls are fantastic and HPC is looking forward with great anticipation to opening a center just for girls this year.

The days here have very little routine, at least for me. This has been a struggle in the sense that I feel more productive with a routine. The Lord has been teaching me alot about usefulness and how I perceive the value of my time and energy. Many days, I feel as though I have done nothing, invested nothing, loved no one. But feelings are deceptive. The truth is, each day has been worthwhile. Even if all I do is be present to help a staffer, or to encourage them, the day is well spent. The Khmer (Cambodian) staff at HPC work very hard and I am encouraged so much from working alongside them, seeing their love for the Lord and their willingness to invest in the kids at the center. Their work is exhausting; physically, mentally, & spiritually. To be immersed each day in teaching kids, investing in them, knowing all the time that they are going home in the evening to possibly be sold for sex, is overwhelming. It has been for me, and i've only worked here for three weeks. The staff have such compassionate hearts and deal with such darkness on a day to day basis. I am amazed by their dedication and I am deeply encouraged by them. Each work day here, we see smiling faces & bright eyes. Many of those same smiling faces are exploited. Frequently. And still the Lord is good.

Though it has only been three weeks, I feel as though I have been in Cambodia much longer. The house of interns & staff have made me feel welcomed and part of the "family" from day one. I will sorely miss them when I return to the states. Am I ready to come home? I am home. Remarkable, isn't it, how you can suddenly come home in the most unexpected places. Here in Phnom Penh, very little is familiar to my western life experience. The commute to work is by Tuk-Tuk, the streets are flooded with motorbikes, anything can be bought at the market instead of a store, and the river by my house smells like rotting garbage. Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore! Yet, here in the heat & the dirt, the sunshine & the narrow streets, and frequent downpours, I've come home. Though it's only for a short season, my soul is refreshed to belong somewhere. In the midst of the craziest, busiest, most packed summer of my life, the swirling waters of change have calmed for these few weeks.

While I'm here, allow me to introduce to you my awesome HPC family (some of them anyway!). My first weekend in Phnom Penh the interns (minus one) and our house papa, Derek, went to a photo studio and took family photos in traditional Khmer fancy dress (well, wedding clothes if we're being precise).

Intern family! Ben, Me, Derek, Noelle, Josh, & Gretchen!

I love these guys & gals. They love Jesus, they love people, and they are deeply passionate about ending sex trafficking. So blessed by these amazing men & women!

All Things Considered

“An inconvenience is an adventure wrongly considered.”

Can’t for the life of me recall who said it first, but they were right. The thing is, I find it all too easy to “wrongly consider” the adventures that come my way. Fortunately, the Lord provides opportunities to practice right consideration and find the enjoyment and moments of light in the midst of spontaneous adventure.

For example: At the moment, I am hanging out in the terminal at Taipei airport. Thirty hours and counting. Three planes. I don’t know how many time zones. I’ve slept, ate, read books, watched movies, made frantic calls to re-arrange flights after delayed connections, and made some new friends. And i’m still smiling. I cannot deny that I have shed a few tears of frustration and weariness along the way, but all in all, I have no regrets and I wouldn’t change a thing. Though by the time my next flight boards in about ten hours, I may have other thoughts. We’ll see....

Fun Fact: Taipei airport has a library in Terminal 2. A real library. With real shelves, full of real paper books. How awesome is that?!?

36

Yesterday, my best friend married the love of her life. It was a beautiful day full of Jesus. The bride was stunning as she and her father made their way down the gently sloping lawn under the natural cathedral of trees towards the flower draped arbor where the groom awaited. The ceremony was moving and everyone cried. We took plenty of pictures and smiled till our faces hurt. It was a lovely celebration of marriage and the beautiful picture it paints of Christ and the church. I'm so happy for her and so proud!

As she embarks on the adventure of life with her new husband, I'm embarking on a different sort of adventure. In about 36 hours, I depart for Cambodia. Wow. That snuck up on me! I can hardly believe i'm leaving in less than two days. yikes!

While the logistical end of the trip is pretty much set, I feel completely unprepared otherwise. My heart is very willing and I am still very excited about this opportunity. But I don't feel ready. My emotions are drained, my body is weary, and my mind is cluttered. But it's never been about me. And the Lord is faithful to remind me of that fact :) It's ok if I don't know all there is to know about Cambodia, about it's people, or about it's history. What better way to learn than by going? It's ok that I have no clue how best to love and minister to those affected by sex trafficking. What better way to learn than by doing?

I'm so encouraged by my friends already in Cambodia, by hearing their stories of the challenges and the blessings the Lord has gifted them with during their time with HPC. I can hardly wait to join them, no matter how unprepared I feel. It's all about Jesus and it's going to be so very good.

blessed days

Hello everyone! This was going to be my first post about Cambodia and all the steps that have lead to pursuing my internship with Hard Places Community. But I'm going to divert for the moment, because in the last 24 hour I've been blown away. Awed. Overwhelmed. Moved to tears. By the astounding and abundant love of my Jesus. And I can't keep silent.

Last weekend marked the end of a rough week in our house. Between me & my wonderful roommate Ally, we had heads & hearts full of weighty stuff for longer than we could stand. It was pretty miserable for a little while. But as i've heard (and found to be true) nothing in this life lasts. The good & bad alike end. The joy & the sorrow come and go, each in their time and their season.

Yesterday, I hung out with Jesus in one of my favorite wild places (well, as close to a wild place as you can get in Nashville). A few miles of trail & alot of prayers later, I was overwhelmed with the realization that the details and nitty-gritty of my life, the moments of frustration and hurt and confusion aren't worth half the energy I put into agonizing over them. Because no matter how big the struggle appears, Jesus is bigger. And in the end, it's not about me. My life is not my own. So it's not the end of the world if i'm left without answers, if my heart gets broken, if I feel neglected or abandoned by someone i care about. It's not about me. And it's not about whoever done me wrong. It's never about us. Its always Jesus. And his presence, his love, overshadows the worst of my fears, the deepest of my hurts, and the brightest of my joys. With that understanding comes a depth of peace that astounds the mind. I don't get to decide who cherishes me, or who hurts me. I don't get to decide how the story ends.  I get to love Jesus and watch the story be written. And it will be a good story, even if I get hurt or disappointed along the way. There will be days (like last week!) when i'm done in, when the struggle is too much and i'll be frustrated and angry. But those are days, not forevers.

And there's something else that popped up on the radar today: God provides. I know, that sounds obvious. But don't you ever catch yourself wondering if he really will? I do. More often than I care to admit. And lately, i've been wondering alot if he would provide and how. And today he showed up in an unexpected way. In a beautiful way. With one fell swoop he provided what I knew I needed and what I didn't know I needed until it was provided.

So that brings me here, to this moment of peace and awe. Of wondering why on earth I have been blessed so deeply, when deserving so little.


"Sometimes, I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed." ~ Mary Oliver

peace

In the last few weeks, everything I thought I understood about grace, woundedness, healing, change, and love has been challenged. Everything that was solid became flimsy and I found myself saying 'yes' to the most frightening moment of obedience I have ever faced. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was pain-filled. It was wounding. And yet, in the midst of soul pain deeper than anything I had imagined possible, in the midst of a hurt so deep and heavy it often feels as though I’ll be crushed beneath it, there is another element at work. Jesus. In the depths of my soul, deeper within than I thought the extent of my soul even reached, the peace of Jesus is dwelling. It is that unwavering peace, the one that little children sing about in Sunday school...

"I've got the peace that passes understanding down in my heart."

This peace is undeniably wonderful. It is a purveyor of life and hope. It comforts in the moments when sadness rolls over me in waves, threatening to drown my soul in sorrow. It gives joy and even happiness when the sadness abates and the light comes in. Rumi said that the wound is the place where the light enters you. I never understood this before. But now, it is clear. We must sometimes say yes to being wounded, to being broken. Because it allows the light to enter us. I do such an excellent job at duck taping myself together, trying to avoid dents and scratches and broken parts when the best thing is only found in being broken. Broken for ourselves, for our loved ones, for strangers. To be fully broken, so that we may be fully healed. 

The growth I feel happening in my soul is beyond my understanding. The pain is exhausting, the growth astounding. The work that Jesus is doing in me is being wrought by many elements. There is of course, Jesus himself, in all his love and grace and glory. And there are the beautiful souls by whom I am surrounded. Some who share my home, others who share different parts of my life; all are present, loving me and encouraging me as I struggle. Reminding me of the peace that, in moments of deep sadness, I willfully overlook. Reminding me of the growth, the grace, the good change happening through the pain; a change so deep and good that it could not have come through any other means.

For the Interim Time

When near the end of day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things,

No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might come.

In this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a while it will be night, but nothing
Here seems TO believe the relief of dark.

You are in this time of interim
Where everything seems withheld.

The path you took to get here has washed out;
The way forward is still concealed from you.

"The old is not old enough to have died away;
The new is still too young to be born."

You cannot lay claim to anything;
In this place of dusk.
Your eyes are blurred;
And there is no mirror.

Everyone else has lost sight of your heart
And you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You know you have to make your own way through.

As far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do not allow your confusion to squander
This call which is loosening
Your roots in false ground,
That you might come free
From all you have outgrown.

What is being transfigured here is your mind.
And it is difficult and slow to become new.
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become
For your arrival in the new dawn.



~John O'Donohue, For the Interim Time, To Bless The Space Between Us

unease

Plans. We all make them, have them, destroy them, love them, hate them, and watch them crumble before our eyes.

We also hope. Our hopes are not so solid and tangible as plans and often we don't realize how much store we've put in them until they are removed. When my plans are shattered, I tend to respond in anger or frustration. However, shattered hopes are a different story. They break my heart.

Months ago, I was living in a combination of wonderment and unease about the clear voice in my soul telling me not to make a plan. I had no idea what God was up to then and I know even less of what he is up to now. I was doing pretty good living without a plan. Then I started thinking ahead to the fall and pondering a few possibilities. I had one thing in mind that, without realizing, I had come to depend upon as my one concrete hope. A couple days ago, that hope became an absolute impossibility. My heart hurt and I cried for the once open door now slammed shut in my face. For one reason or another, that path is now closed to me. Even though I never felt convicted that it was the direction I was meant for, it was something and it gave me hope.

Now I find myself more uneasy and directionless than ever. As my roommate Ally gently reminded me earlier today, I probably won't receive any direction or plan until I stop looking for one and stop snatching at every ghost of possibility within reach. Though I have no idea what God is teaching me through this time of not knowing, I am comforted by his presence, his being in the core of my existence. And I hope that the not knowing will teach me to live generously into my own unease, embracing the quite tug of longing deep in my soul instead of trying to make it go away. The inner longings of my soul are there for a purpose, wether I understand that purpose or not.

I am existing in between what I once knew and what I may know in the future. For now, I continue to float in this sea of unease, as my eyes adjust to see the wonderment found here.