Reflections and Conclusions

I am home and it has been a good day. A day of unpacking, doing washing, sorting things... catching up with my ‘normal’ life and adding the experience of these last two weeks into it. Was the trip worth the time and the cost and the effort? I think so.

Certainly, I have learned a lot. Had a lot of fun. Worked really hard and walked further than I have done for years! Met some amazing people and found some new friends. Rubbed shoulders with some of God’s generals. Seen what can be done with vision and love. Been treated with honour and grace and appreciation everywhere I went. Experienced an application of following Jesus in a gritty face-to-face way. Discovered aspects of life that I had not dreamed existed... except perhaps in nightmares. Cried more tears for people I don’t know than I thought possible....

Would I go again? Yes!

Something reached out and grabbed my heart in Cambodia, and I still feel the tug, half a world away. What is it about this place that I found it beautiful? There is nothing much to see right now. Especially not in Poipet... dirty, smelly, dusty or muddy depending on whether any rain had fallen in the night. There is a face to face confrontation with poverty and sin in all its tragic manifestations that leaves you grappling with an almost literal pain.

But beautiful? Yes, beautiful. Something is happening there, right now. I think it is because I caught a glimpse of God’s vision and heart for Cambodia. Because there is a sense that there are things one can do that will help and make a difference. Because the innocence and sweetness of the children overtakes the dinginess of their surroundings. And because Cambodian people are just amazing. Gracious, gentle, friendly, patient, honouring.  They are truly beautiful, even in the midst of their poverty.

And I saw beauty in the face of Chomno In, the director of Cambodian Hope Organisation (CHO). When you hear his story, you wonder how it is that he has so much kindness in his eyes, and such an ever present smile on his face. He is a living illustration of what Cambodia is - underneath. Because he lived through the nightmare that was Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, saw loved ones die, experienced deprivation and hunger and suffering beyond imagination. He would have every right to be bitter and twisted and hardened. But he isn’t.

On my last night in Thailand I could not sleep for some reason. I used the time in reading up on the history of Cambodia. I knew most of the story, but it was good to fill in the details.

And then I watched John Pliger’s hard hitting and award winning documentary on Cambodia. Filmed in 1979, soon after the end of the Khmer Rouge’s reign of terror, it was called ‘Year Zero; The Silent Death of Cambodia’, and it was an appeal for international food aid. I cried my way through it.  God bless John Pilger for his compassion and righteous anger – it resulted in an outpouring of generosity on the part of private individuals all over the world at a time when governments were too caught up in politics to act. Apparently some $45 million was raised, unsolicited, in mostly small donations following the showing of Year Zero, including almost £4 million raised by schoolchildren in the UK. I read of a taxi driver, who saw the documentary and who sent an envelope with his entire week’s pay to help feed people.

I also watched a documentary promoting Cambodia – made in 1965, it gave a glimpse of the country the way it was before the devastation was wreaked upon it, before it was so ruthlessly cut down and brought to its knees.

And finally I watched a compilation of interviews on a train journey in Cambodia, uploaded in 2011.

These visual experiences combined to consolidate my earlier heart impressions of the country. Earlier in the week God had given me a picture of Cambodia as a beautiful flowering plant that had been ruthlessly cut off at the base.  All her beauty lost. So that now, looking, all you see is a stalk. Ugly, barren, empty, unfruitful. But life is in the root, and in the right conditions, the plant can and will recover. So my prayer for Cambodia is a prayer of faith... there is life in the root. And so once again she will display her beauty and become fruitful. I hope to be a part, however small, of this restoration. I hope to go back again....

John Pilger’s hard hitting documentary is here: Year Zero: The Silent Death of Cambodia

The YouTube clip on Cambodia in 1965, ie pre Khmer Rouge, is here: Cambodia in 1965 (1) (There are 5 more clips, following on from one another... )

And the clip of interviews on a train in 2011 is here: Cambodia, Country of Scars

The week in Pattaya, Thailand was also worthwhile.

It was amazing to reach out, across cultural and language barriers, to confront my own introvertedness and English reticence, and to share what I have and what I know.

It was an amazing experience to take the extreme love of God into karaoke bars and brothels, and to minister it to prostitutes and transgender people, the homeless and unloveable and unwanted, people who were HIV positive or who had other problems that made them unattractive.

It was amazing to see people soften and change, literally before our eyes as they realised that they were not alone, that Someone cared, and that love did not always come with strings attached. One of the most common statements we heard from people was: ‘I don’t know a love like this...’

It was amazing to realise that in doing what we were doing, we were probably walking closer to the life model Jesus lived on the earth than we had ever done before. On more than one occasion I found myself asking the question: ‘Where would Jesus have been, had He been here in the flesh?’ I suspect He would have been exactly where we were, hanging out with prostitutes and sinners. We saw an element of the Gospel that had hitherto been hidden, or at best glimpsed through a glass darkly. We saw that it is truly Love that draws people in, Love that makes people want to change, Love that creates, Love that gives hope.

It was amazing to spend time with giants. Well known giants like Bart & Kim Hadaway, fellow team member giants and the leaders of various ministries in the city, and such a multitude of quiet and unknown giants, like Meow, and Pu, and Tass and Sarah and Wanna and Pearl and Rose... the list is long. I felt so awed at times by who they were; it was such a privilege to be with them... to share life and purpose; to know we are family, and that we will indeed be together forever; that our bond transcends distance and nationality and language.

It was amazing to carry compassion. To trust God with our hearts and to know that He would allow us to be broken but not destroyed... and that in that brokenness the sweet fragrance of His live and life would flow out of us. One night in Pattaya I could not sleep. My heart was weeping and weeping – for all the people in bondage in the city, for all the trafficked children, for all the dream-destroyed young women who knew that the sum total of their worth was no more than the equivalent of £10 an hour. It was scary, to feel so much pain. And then God said just to bring it to Him, to keep bringing it to Him, because these tears were precious to Him, and He could use them. And I understood that it is compassion that makes us powerful... as Mike and Mark so succinctly put it, compassion ACTS.

I have come away forever changed, in a good way. I find myself wondering how an adventure that seemed expensive before I went to Asia suddenly seems so inexpensive. 

And I find myself wondering how soon I can find a way to go back....