Homecoming...

How does one define it? That familiar strange sensation of old and comfortable things accompanied by a vague but definite sense of being out of touch. At home and not at home. Homecomings are complicated. Emotions and expectations are disproportionately high. My closest and most meaningful reasons for being alive are arrayed before me with eager smiles and outstretched arms. I hold and hug and kiss and I cannot get enough of their smell. Funny how homecoming is so sensory.

Home! A month is a long time to be away.

Arrivals. The joy of my arms wrapped around my horse's chunky neck and the muddy sweet feel of him - he slightly aloof because of my long absence and my over enthusiastic emotion; the wriggling, licking, leaping joy of our dogs - who have no problem whatsoever with over enthusiastic emotional displays. The dogs! In my absence Angus has left puppyhood behind and two dogs gleefully let me know that it is good that I am home.

In the shadows, their presence very much felt but for now, studiously ignored, are my responsibilities. They wait patiently but confidently. My soul sneaks a glance and shrinks back. There are so many. They don't mind waiting. Like many coloured layers of thread they know that they belong in my hands and that I will pick them up in a while. But not now. Now it the time of transition. Of re-entry... And I have time. My husband has arranged to take Kate to College for the next two days so that I can have some time at home. Home alone. Home. My soul needs this. It needs the time to process, to gather the pieces together. It has been such a good trip. But literally half a world away; I have been in another world. The concept of parallel universes is tangible, experiential. Far away, people of other languages, life experiences, cultures and nations are going about their living, and for a while we have shared that living. They welcomed me and drew me in. I have been there. I am there. But I am also here.

Yesterday morning it is such a relief to go inside the cool quiet of my air-conditioned bedroom. The sun outside is impossibly hot, even at 7 in the morning. Later, at the airport in Bangkok I position my over-hot body right in front of the air conditioner and I am reluctant to move, even when it is my turn at the Passport Control counter. Many hours later I come off the airplane into another airport. It is winter in Europe and I am bracing myself for the cold. But I am securely enclosed in a centrally heated building. It feels weird. My body is already disorientated about the mystery of having travelled 12 hours but it only being 6 hours later. And by the fact that far away in Cambodia it is the middle of the night, when I should be sleeping, not the cusp edge between late afternoon and early evening. There are things the mind knows that the body cannot understand. But now it must also deal with heating where there was cooling. And I need to wait for 2 hours in this place. I wander past coffee shops cheery with Christmas advertising and colour, and where the drinks on display are warming drinks - mulled wine and hot chocolate and coffees with cream. My body is sadly yearning for ice. Iced coffee, iced tea, iced anything. Finally, at Starbucks, I find what is advertised as a ''Lime Cooler' and I order one with extra ice. It is delicious and refreshing. I down it in 10 minutes and go back and order another one, to the obvious but kindly amusement of the barrista behind the counter.

Home! But home feels strange because there is another place - places - my heart calls home too. There are people who have bound me to themselves with cords of love, and I to them. In the midst of my happiness at being home is an overwhelming longing. This is the tension I now embrace, the tension that is the gift of travel.

In the midst of the UK night I awaken. Of course! It is morning in Cambodia. And I am far too hot. I get up and switch off the central heating. My poor family also has to deal with my disorientation. Then I drink some water - filling my glass from the tap. This too feels strange. I have spent a whole month reminding myself NEVER to drink water from a tap. It feels like a forbidden activity, and I have to reassure myself that it is safe to do so. I go back to bed and fall asleep again to the sound of my husband's quiet breathing. It is going to be ok. It is ok. I am home.

Homecomings are everywhere. They are often in unexpected places too. They are the stitches of the threads that hold the pieces of my soul, my very heart, secure, each in its place. It is because of these homecomings that I am able to knead and integrate these diverse experiences on opposite ends of the earth into the one composite whole that is me and the way I experience my living. I am. I am England and South Africa and Brazil and Thailand and Myanmar and Cambodia.

Mary Oliver asks: ''What is it that you intend to do with your one wild and precious life?'' Here is my answer. In the peace of the shell that is my home I reflect that this is it. Whole. I know. I am at home in this world, in this beautiful, heartbreaking, overwhelming, impossible place. I live. And I love.

This is mine. This is me. This is homecoming.

Prayer Walking in Pattaya

The problem with Pattaya is that it is also a place of ugliness.

Today I went on a prayer walk around Pattaya. I went along the beachfront and down Walking Street and back again. And as I walked I thought and prayed about what I saw...

There are men everywhere. And the thing that stands out to me about these men is that so many of them look dead. I'm reminded of that question in Proverbs, ''Shall a man heap coals into his lap and not be burned?'' In my research about Pattaya I find many websites that tell me how great it is; how wonderful it is to be able to have a different girl every night and more than once a night if you want. Apparently it's like a man's dream come true; ''Disneyland for adults'' one writer called it. So how come the men look dead? That's an interesting question. So many of them look unhealthy, sick and pale.

There is an inherent sadness that I feel when I walk around Pattaya. It's why I find it a hard place to be. I look at the women waiting on the beachfront for clients, and their make up is immaculate and their hair is lovely and they are wearing their high heels and they look so good. But there is a hardness and a sorrow on them. And I catch their eye of one or two and when I do, I smile at them and they smile back, surprised, like why would I smile at them? Don't I see what they are?

There are dogs that wander around with misaligned jaws and sores on their bodies. They have a pretty tough life, but they are survivors, like everyone else in Pattaya. They are tough. The trauma is just more noticeable in the dogs.

And the signs. Oh God, the signs... ''Live Dolls'' proclaims one. Live dolls? How that hurts my heart.What does it feel like to be seen as nothing more than a living doll? I wander along the famous Walking Street, and I'm praying in the Spirit and I'm singing songs, the songs, the songs of God in dark places, and my heart is sorrowing, sorrowing, sorrowing. I want to see these places destroyed. But I am so conscious of the Lord with me, and that I am not alone, and after a while He says: ''Take a break...''

So I wander into a bar and I buy a coke, and I walk through the bar to the other side and I go and sit out on the beachfront where the bar overlooks the sea and it's so beautiful. The sun is starting to set and the reflections of the boats on the water are lovely, and there are these huge, huge clouds. It's beautiful, but my heart is aching.

And then I look up, and there in front of me there is a statue and it's a girl, and it's beautiful. She's holding a torch, and she's strong, and mighty, and triumphant. And I'm reminded about two prophetic words I have been given about Asia - one is about awakening the right arm and the other is about being the carrier of the blue flame. And I've been asking God about these things, What is the significance of the right arm? And the blue flame?


And as I've read His Word, I have seen that the right arm is justice. Just before I left the UK our worship leader reminded me that ''Justice and righteousness are Your throne O God...''

I also remember a recent conversation with my Catholic friend Christine about why St Mary the Mother of Jesus is usually clothed in blue, and her answer that blue stands for purity and for royalty. And I see the statue of the woman with her right arm holding her torch so high and she's so beautiful, especially against the backdrop of the setting sun and the sky and the reflections on the water and she stands for justice and for purity and for the royalty of womanhood. And my heart cries out: ''O God, can you bring justice to this place? Can you bring back purity to these women and restore to them their value? Can you destroy the darkness and the shame of Walking Street please?''

And I find my heart encouraged and the sorrow that has been so heavy lifts, and a quietness and a peace comes. He sees and He knows. He knows. And as I turn around and begin to walk back, I declare it, over and over and over again:

''Our Father, 

Who art in heaven, 

hallowed be Your Name.

Your Kingdom come; 

Your will be done, 

on Walking Street as it is in heaven, 

in Pattaya as it is in heaven, 

on earth as it is in heaven.''

Our Father, our Father, our Father....

Pattaya the Beautiful

''Pattaya is an overwhelming mix of beautiful and ugly things''.

That's what I wrote on my Facebook page. On this, my third trip to the city, I saw beautiful things.

The ministry of Tamar Centre has always been beautiful. For 20 years now, Nella Davidse and her team have held out a hand of compassion and hope for the city's beleaguered bar girls. I have been on some of these outreach sessions with XP Missions and Tamar and I have more than once heard Nella tell the story of how and why she came to live and work in Pattaya. The no-nonsense integrity of the woman, and the warmth in her piercing eyes, even when she is tired... this is beautiful.

This time I sat in an audience at a graduation, listening, with a warm heart, to the testimonies of two new graduates of the three month Tamar training programme. This was the 17th Tamar graduation, and we were celebrating the achievements of eight young people. All eight had come out of dangerous exploitative situations; all eight had new qualifications, smiling faces and hope in their eyes; all eight were proud of what they had achieved... this was beautiful.

The graduates had been given gifts and flowers along with their certificates, and I watched one of the girls try to give her flowers to Nella, who lovingly but firmly refused them: ''This is your day...'' The interaction was warm and honouring and swift, and I was moved by it... this was beautiful.

After the ceremony, we had supper together and there was time to meet people and chat. I met a group of fresh faced young women, some from the USA and one from Holland, all of whom were giving up three to nine months of their lives to learn and to serve the women of Thailand. I looked deep into their innocence and their purity and I was amazed at their willingness to get involved with intervention in this, the most un-innocent of female activities. I was reminded of the slogan of the women's conference I had attended with Malina: ''Together, we are stronger''... this too was beautiful.

Returnings

Less than a month from today I will be in Asia again...

It still amuses me when I think of it. I was so resistant to the idea of visiting Asia at all, and even more resistant to the idea of actually getting involved with anything there. And yet, now, year after year, like the quiet but persistent drumbeat of my heart I am drawn back. Back to Cambodia. To the squalor and the filth and the poverty and the shame and the pain of a nation in recovery from trauma and abuse. Why? It is so strange, so irrational. I like my First-World lifestyle.

But I am also drawn back to the beauty, the smiles, the fun-loving spirit; the innate courtesy of the people; the wonderful Khmer friends I now have; the precious children rescued by XP Missions; the feeling that drop upon drop upon drop of compassion and involvement can and does make a difference; and my abiding love for the incredible people who have chosen to spend - expend - their lives in drip, drip, dripping that difference into the continent. I think of Andrea, Mark, Sharon, Alice, Shelley, Jen, Ginny, Pastor Chuck, and so many more, and I know I am so privileged to get to touch their lives, even just a little bit.

And ultimately, it is about obedience. Jesus said that He did what He saw the Father do. He indicated, quite clearly, that if we wanted to know what God was like, we should look at Him. At the way He lived, taught, dealt with people. And then He said that the works He did, we should do also. We too should be demonstrating in our living what God is like. And one thing has always been clear - God cares about the poor and the suffering and the downtrodden and He fully expects us to care too.

As time has passed, I have found my horizons expanding in Asia. It is still not a rational thing. God asked us first of all to open our hearts to Thailand, and right now I have no idea what to do about that. Was Thailand a marker on my road or a destination? So far, Thailand has ended up being a means to an end - it is the neighbouring country of Cambodia that has engaged my heart. Although of course, Pattaya, that coastal Thai city, that place where it all came into focus, that murky seedbed of nefarious activity, is never far from my thoughts..... And I know lightbearers there too, Malina, always Malina. And David, Ying, Pu, Nella, Somsak..... It's relationship that calls me most. I am very relational, and for me, it is always about people. Knowing people, and loving people.

And now there is Myanmar. Drawn inexorably by the determined vision of my young friend there, I will return for another week, again to teach in a Bible College and to visit with David and his friends, and to bring encouragement to Burmese Christians from a member of the Western church. We look different and speak different languages and have different cultures and life experiences, but our love for God draws us into a fellowship that is beyond those things.

So, reflections over, I am excited. I will spend a week in Thailand, a week in Myanmar, and two weeks in Cambodia. In the flurry of preparation and activity that precedes a trip there is a growing anticipation. I look forward to being in Asia. Again.

Pattaya

I find Pattaya a hard place to be. There is such a concentration of the worst of human issues – the sheer sadness, the loneliness, the lost-ness, the entrapment, the darkness of mankind – thinly covered by a veneer of fun and smiles and shrill laughter. After my first trip to Pattaya, I was to say to a friend: ‘If ever I doubted the existence of that malevolent evil we call satan, I no longer do.’ There is a lot of good in the world, and the goodness points towards its Source. The same is true of evil. Pattaya is heavy with it.

I spend time with precious people, people like Stephen and Ying Fulton, people like Nella Davidse, who have the courage and the fortitude to stand, as beacons of light in this vast darkness. I see them, and I am astonished by their beauty. Light always shines more brightly when it is really dark.

I ask them how it is that they find grace to live in Pattaya. Again and again, the story is the same…. For love. For love of God and for love of His children, They saw what I see, years ago, and it catapulted them into action. Not away, but towards. I look at these people and I am awed by the simplicity of their message, a message they live as well as speak: Love overcomes. Light shines. Goodness changes people. They hold out the Word of Life, day after day after day.

Is it worth it? Some say no. They look at the statistics and say the problem is growing.

But look into the eyes, as I do, of just one changed person, one person who has exchanged a life in sorrow and darkness for a life in Light and say it’s not worth it. Can you? I certainly can’t. The core of Heidi Baker's life message is very evident here. Love is when we stop for the one. 

Heartbreak

The young bar-girl Lynn was talking to decided not to come to XP's training centre. Lynn was in tears, telling us. Too afraid to trust the hand held out, she had decided to stay with the high-risk but more familiar environment in which she found herself.

That she did so is not as surprising as it seems at first glance. It is the proverbial frying pan and the fire situation. Yes, she knew she was in danger. But what she didn't know was whether or not she would be in greater danger if she went with this friendly white Western woman. Young women are trafficked to Thailand, Malaysia and further afield from Cambodia, lured by promises of work and development opportunities. How was she to know that this promised 'Everlasting Love' training program was not a trap?

The statistics are sobering. Rescue agencies tell us that for every girl saved from sexual exploitation, 99 are not. Needless to say, this situation has to change. Outreach is an important part of the task of building relationship and trust so that girls have confidence and know where to go for help.

Women at Risk....

Tonight we waited, chatting and eating delicious ice cream at the Blue Pumpkin, while Lynn and Jenn went to find a young girl, just a teenager, who was working in one of the bars - Jenn had made contact with her the day before, and we hoped that she would be able to come onto XP's 'Everlasting Love' Program. They had a very good chat with her, and it is all looking very positive. They will meet with her again tomorrow, and if she decides to do so, she could start as soon as next week. The biggest challenge is trust - when a young person has been betrayed by all she holds dear, why should she trust Western strangers, even if they are accompanied by Khmer translators. How is she to know we aren't traffickers with even worse plans for her future? Relationship building is careful work....

Back in our tuk-tuk, Lynn was in tears, describing how tightly this youngster had held onto her when Lynn hugged her... she was so very young, and so frightened, so uncertain who or what she could believe. Lynn was concerned about the Western men in the bar, who were watching with interested eyes. There is a real sense of urgency about the need to get this young woman out of the situation as soon as possible.

I was reminded of Siem. My heart still hurts, almost three years later, when I think of her. Such a sweet little girl. Far too sweet and innocent to be working in a karaoke bar in Poipet! How desperately she wanted to be rescued. It has been hard to forgive myself for leaving her, but at that time I was naive and didn't not realize how serious her situation was. And even if I had known what I know now, it was too soon - we were not yet in a position to help. It was the early days of Operation Justice and hardly anything was in place. Now there are  options... and XP can offer the girls a lifeline, opportunities, training - choices.

So where is Siem now? What happened to her? I have no way of knowing. I hope against hope that somehow, she did get out of her situation. The sad reality is that it is extremely unlikely that she could have done so - not without help. And so I look for her in every Khmer face I see. If I could find her, would it be too late? Would she be hardened, innocence betrayed, trust lost forever? I hope not. I hope she would still be open to hope. I hope she would not feel like I abandoned her.... which of course, is precisely what I did do. Not by desire or by choice, but that doesn't change how it must feel for her.

I said I would look for her... and I do. I will continue to do so. And I pray. I dream of finding Siem. I dream of walking up to a young girl one day and of her turning to look at me, and of me realising it is her. I'm glad I didn't promise I would find her, because so far, I have not been able to do so. There are so many young girls in prostitution in Asia; it is like hunting for the proverbial needle. I did tell her that I would look for her. And I said that I loved her, and that I would always love her. I remember the feeling of her, snuggled, bird-like against my side. I remember how desperately she clung to me when it was time to go. I remember the pain of walking away. Even though it was only one small encounter, I cannot forget her. She is in the heart of all I do here in Asia.

This is why I love being part of what XP Missions is doing. This is why I love touring the brand new women's ministry centre, aptly named 'Everlasting Love'. In fact, I have done so three times now. I love seeing the vision materialize. I love encountering our very first recruit, eagerly learning to sew. Seeing the joy in her face and the hope in her eyes. Knowing that this girl will no longer have to prostitute herself in order to survive. And she is the first of many who will come.... I see a time when the women's centre will be too small, and we will need another one. I see hundreds of beautiful women, discovering themselves and their gifts in freedom and dignity. I see restoration and hope and a future.... one by one by one. Engagement, encounter, affirmation, determination, hope. This is what love looks like. It always has.

Everlasting Love

One of the foundational dreams of the XP Missions project 'Operation Justice' was that there be opportunities created for young women to exchange prostitution for other means of producing an income. After the disruption of the Khmer Rouge and many years of civil war, Cambodia is still a country very much in recovery. Poverty can be extreme and when people are hungry, they find themselves making decisions out of very limited options. So it is not at all unusual to visit a brothel and find a young girl there, middle to late teens, who will tell you that she is doing this work because her father or mother is ill and they had to buy medicine, or because she is the eldest of her siblings and they are hungry. It is really heartbreaking, to look into these young eyes and think of my own daughters. If it is an older woman, the story is usually to do with a husband leaving or dying, and children needing food and shelter. What astonishes me the most is the extent to which a person is willing to sacrifice for the sake of her family.

When we spend time with the girls in the bars, we ask them about their lives, their hopes and dreams and their wishes for the future. We ask them if they like their work - no one has ever said 'Yes' - and what kind of work they would do instead if they had the choice. It's not all heavy and serious; like any conversations with young girls there is a lot of giggling and laughter. Especially when we attempt to sing along with Karaoke, or when we have nail-painting sessions. Simply, the hour that we have paid for the use of the Karaoke room is an hour in which these particular young women will not have to sell themselves. But in the midst of it all there are tears and stories of pain shared and, of course, hugs and prayer. We are women. And we share the burdens of womanhood.

On this particular trip we don't go to the Karioke bars. Instead we go to Wat Phnom, a Buddhist pagoda in the city, We know that there are prostitutes working in this area. We walk down the street and sure enough, every park bench has a woman sitting on it. We stop and talk to them, and one asks for prayer to help her find a new job - she has had an interview but doesn't yet know the outcome. On the next corner we find a young woman, who tells us that she has only been working here for a week. Her husband has left her for another woman and she has a young son. She is defensive as she tells us she has no choice. We invite her to come to our training centre and she says she will think about it.

The amazing and irrepressible Lynn

In the midst of this conversation a few other girls come over to hear what we have to say. One of them, hardened and jaded even though I am sure she is still young, tells us that she is very worried about this young woman because she hears her coughing and thinks she is not well. ''Also'', she says, ''she should sit with us and not by herself - she could get hurt if she is working alone.'' She encourages us to help her. I am touched by the obvious concern from a woman who has obviously not been a recipient of terribly much concern herself. We arrange for her to meet with Lynn, who oversees the training centre, the next day. (Sadly, when Lynn goes in search of her the next day, she is nowhere to be found...)

Last week XP opened their first training centre - aptly named 'Everlasting Love' - for women who want to leave prostitution. I felt very emotional as I toured this facility with Andrea. How we have dreamed and longed for this. And here it is - a small beginning, another option, an open door. Today there are young women registering for the 6 month training program, in which they will learn sewing. There are plans for other skills training opportunities, but this is how we begin. Their young children, if they have any, will come along to the centre for Preschool.

And while I am here I have the privilege of sharing with the first group of women on the Everlasting Love program. I tell them of the importance of forgiveness, even when it is impossibly difficult. I share from my own life experiences, and I speak of the grace and forgiveness of God, and one woman is in tears. It is so hard. So hard when you have been exploited and abused, to let go of the bitterness, the anger and the desire for revenge. But one woman, a woman whose husband sent her into prostitution because they had financial difficulties, totally gets it. Her face is wreathed in smiles as she takes over from me and begins to talk with passion about the same thing. Letting go and moving on. Recently she encountered the love of God for the first time. Now we get to see the life-giving love of Jesus at work. He always brings hope and restoration.

Note: Just 1 year later, these are the kinds of things that are being produced by these women... 

 Everlasting Love - Shop

Myanmar - Day 1

After travelling for 28 hours via London, Paris and Bangkok, I finally arrived in Yangon.

I was excited and happy to see David. To be honest, I was also just a bit scared. I didn't know much about Burma, now called Myanmar, but in the past I had heard that it was a repressed society and a controlling regime that didn't appear to allow freedom of thought or religion. And one that didn't appear too concerned about restricting, forcibly if need be, the actions and movements of foreigners to the country either. I knew of the persecutions missionaries had endured in the past. And I knew that Open Doors had ranked Myanmar as number 25 on their Watch List of countries where persecution of Christians is most severe. I had little idea of what to expect, but had the thought that it might be decidedly uncomfortable. And so my initial response to David's invitation to visit his country was 'No thanks...' But the idea would not go away. And when my friend Linda asked me to join her on a trip to Myanmar, I began to give the idea some serious consideration, And then of course, that beautiful song, 'Oceans' rocketed to the top of the Christian worship songs list. I was challenged, over and over and over again by its uncompromising lyrics:

You call me out upon the waters,

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find You in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

And I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand

Will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed and You won't start now

So I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Saviour...

As the months passed by, the idea began to move beyond idea to possibility - and now, here I was. Later, as I stood up to speak in a large hot room at the top of a building in Yangon, I would honour David for his persistence in holding onto a vision he believed was from God, and for persevering in dreaming, praying and asking until it came to pass.

I received such a warm welcome at the airport from my young friend and his companions. Any anxieties I might have had were instantly allayed by their smiling faces. I was given a beautiful pearl necklace from David's family as a welcome gift, and many photographs were taken. I felt like a celebrity :-)

We took a taxi to the hotel. It was interesting to see Myanmar for the first time, which, at first glance, does not look that different to Thailand and Cambodia. Of course the differences become apparent within a short while, but the vegetation is similar. There are many beautiful buildings from the era of colonial Britain, but sadly many are run down and are in need of care. There are lots of building projects though, and, of course, many beautiful pagodas. The city is lively and busy, and evidence of wealth and evidence of poverty are all jumbled up together. One thing that makes things much more manageable than Phnom Penh is that motorbikes are not allowed in the city.

Although I had had a very good trip, I was feeling tired, and my body clock was rather disorientated, as I was now almost 7 hours ahead of my UK schedule. I was looking forward to a rest at my hotel, but there was no time for that. I had been invited to speak to a group of students. So it was just a quick change and a snack and then off out. One look at these students quickly dealt with any sorry-for-me feelings. It didn't take me long to realize that I was deeply privileged to meet them. Aged between 18 and 25, they come from remote villages, and spend 9 months in Yangon, training as pastors and missionaries, after which they return to their communities. They live, study and work in the same building for that period of time, except when they go on outreaches. The depth of their passion and commitment is a challenge to the Western church.

Linda and I were delighted to see each other. It is rather incredible, when you think of it, that two middle-aged ladies who met just once before, two years previously, had chosen to travel half-way around their respective worlds, to meet up in a country which neither had visited before, in response to the repeated invitations of another person, David Joy, whom we had also only met once before. And it is incredible to think that the three of us had met in Cambodia, as part of an XP Missions team, and that Linda was from America, I was from England, and David from Myanmar, and that now we were were together again in his home country.  It was actually incredible to think that we were in Myanmar at all. Who would ever have thought such a thing, in the years when were were growing up and Burma was a far-away country heard of briefly in Geography classes and in occasional news reports? Certainly not me!

On this first evening I was invited to share a few thoughts with a Youth Group. I knew they were Bible College

students, but honestly, nothing could have prepared me for the passion and the devotion of these young people. They were young in years but certainly not in spirit. I was shocked and awed by them, and by the uncompromising purity of their commitment to Jesus in a country in which persecution is more than a possible outcome. They were expectant and focused. We began with worship, and then Linda spoke about the Feasts of the Lord. It was very hot, and we had some lovely young women sit with us and fan us to keep us a little cooler for the WHOLE evening. I am sure their arms got tired, but they served us with patience and smiles. It really touched my heart. In fact, the whole week did that. Throughout our stay we were treated as precious treasure, and our every wish was catered for. We didn't pay for our own meals, not even once, and everywhere we went we were showered with gifts, gifts of traditional tribal fabrics, clothing, jewellery and food. We had a hard time remembering, a lot of time, who was ministering to whom….

After Linda had spoken for some time. David explained about the Tallith, the traditional Jewish prayer shawl. Looking at the discomfort the students were enduring, sitting crowded together on a hard floor in a hot room, I thought that maybe that was enough, and that I should not speak that night. In fact, they were shocked at the very idea. Didn’t I have anything to share with them? So I picked up my Bible and asked the Lord what He wanted me to tell them. I remembered how, when I was their age, I had been so totally impacted by Prov 3:5-6:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, 

and do not lean on your own understanding. 

In all your ways, acknowledge Him, 

and He will direct your paths.

We read this text together and then I spoke, point by point, about God’s promise… that if we trust in Him, don’t depend on our own understanding but on His, and acknowledge Him in ALL our ways, He will make our paths straight and lead us in the way we should go. It was a powerful word, much more so than even I had expected.

When I finished I asked if anyone wanted to recommit – of course I knew they were already committed, because they were at Bible College – to a lifestyle in which they would choose to acknowledge the Lord in ALL their ways. Going on previous experience in the Western world, I expected a few to come to the front for prayer.

To my amazement, about half of the students streamed to the front, where they fell on their knees, worshiping and crying out their commitment to acknowledge God in all things. Linda and I were not sure what to do, as we didn’t know the language, and there was no way we could have prayed for each person individually with our one translator. I asked God what to do, and felt just to go from person to person, laying hands on them and allowing God to do the work. This Linda and I proceeded to do. We had such a powerful sense of touching precious and anointed vessels of God, His treasure, and knowing that many of them might experience persecution and suffering for this promise, even death, made it all the more poignant. I was close to tears the whole time, and I felt so honoured to have been permitted to minister to them.

There are times in your life when you find yourself close to the holy things of the Lord, and even in the privileged position of being His daughter, I know that this is very sacred, and to tread carefully and to handle His things with great respect. This was one of those times. This is what my first encounter with the radical, passionate, laid down lovers of Jesus in Myanmar, the Burmese Christians, was like. It set the tone for the week, and I have to say, that it was the same everywhere I went.

Packing for Asia

Packing. Always such a challenge. How do I fit my clothing for three weeks, the gifts for the children in the safe house and for my friends, and all the things I want to take for the children in the slums into that 1 suitcase and that measly 20kg allowance?

I fit as much as possible into my hand luggage, and squeeze and shove objects into every nook and cranny of space. I am so excited about every single item, and I am not willing to leave anything behind.

I am of course most excited about the children's presents. For Johnnie I have some beautiful artist's pens and a very detailed colouring book. And for Esther there is a pink tea set, with a teapot that sings cute songs and that speaks in a very proper voice: 'Shall we have some tea?' I can't wait to see her face when she hears it.

Eventually I accept that my suitcase is full and I weigh it and weigh it, hoping each time that it will weigh a little less than the 27kg the scales tell me it weighs. It doesn't.

My friend Fabiola and I pray over it, asking that somehow, I will be allowed to take everything with me. I decide that if necessary I will jettison the sweets at the airport, and decide to wait and see what happens. Somehow, I have a feeling that all shall be most well.....

At the airport my suitcase is passed without comment. A 'Heavy' tag is put on it. But I am not asked to pay in anything. With a sense of being looked after, I breeze my way through security.

Interestingly, before I reach my final destination of Phnom Penh where most of the contents of my suitcase are going, I take 4 flights on smaller planes with Bangkok Air, and with Angkor Air. As I queue for check-in I pray, and feel again that strong sense that all is well. I am reminded that I am His child, a princess, and i hold my head high. On the other side of the world Fabiola and Jeremy are praying too - I have sent them a text to tell them I am in the queue. And everywhere I am treated like royalty, with smiles and courtesy, and no one tells me I am not allowed to take all that weight, even though they comment that my suitcase is very heavy! I arrive gleefully overloaded with all the sweets and toys and gifts I wanted to bring. Thanks be to God...

Asia Anticipations

Two days to departure. I am super excited and a little tense as I encounter the usual challenge of really wanting to go and really wanting to stay! Cambodia pulls and I find myself yearning to be there again. And there is a real sense of rightness in this trip to Myanmar too. But I don't like leaving my home, Craig, my precious children and my ponies. There is always a cost, and it is seldom the material one that hurts.

Our lounge has been taken over with toys and sweets, wrapping paper, mysterious parcels and summer clothing. It feels like Christmas as we wrap presents for precious children in far away countries. I am now packing things into my suitcase, and I am already on my weight limit! And that is without toiletries, shoes and personal items. Oops....

I am busy finalizing my talks for the Bible College in Yangon. I will be teaching on 'Praise and Worship' - why it matters, and how to do it (that is kind of obvious, but it is interesting to look at the Hebrew root words and Biblical practices). Most evenings we are also busy, meeting with various Christian home groups and Youth Groups. These will be less formal opportunities to share our experience of life with God. I will be sharing around the theme of the 'Father Heart of God'. Sunday the 16th, I speak in an Assemblies of God church, and my topic is 'The Family of God'. This is very appropriate, when I consider that my first 'home' as a new Christian was with an Assembles of God church.

Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I travel. 27 or so hours of travel lie ahead of me, and I am speaking the night I arrive. I hope I can stay awake :-) The grace of God!

More information about Myanmar here:
BBC Country Profile - Myanmar
Aung San Suu Kyi, political leader of Myanmar

Asian Adventures

I have been wondering for some time about whether or not I would go to Asia this year. Then an American friend, Linda, wrote to ask if I would consider accompanying her on a trip to Myanmar. A mutual friend from Myanmar, David Joy, had been asking us to come for some time, to share stories and encourage Christians in his city, Yangon. Linda really  wanted to go.

I spent some time investigating options and praying about the idea. It seemed entirely possible that I could link a trip to Myanmar with a trip to Cambodia - if I was going to Cambodia, that is. And if I could go for at least three weeks. The more I considered the idea, the more excited I felt about it. When I asked Craig, Julie and Kate what they thought about the idea of me disappearing off to Asia for almost a month, when we had just moved and were still in the throes of unpacking, I was rather surprised to find them entirely supportive and certain that it was the right thing.

A flurry of emails and Facebook discussions ensued, and I am now delighted to be able to say that I am going to Yangon, Myanmar, for a week. From there I fly to Siem Reap to see my friend Narith and his wife Mealea - and finally, on my 4th trip to Cambodia, to see the famous World Heritage site of Angkor Wat. And then I spend almost two weeks with the XP Missions team in Phnom Penh. I will travel with them to Poipet, to see how the projects there are progressing, and hopefully to see some of the street-children I met and shared about on previous occasions. Finally, I will travel back to Pattaya, Thailand, to see friends from our first trip to Asia, Operation Extreme Love 2012.

I am still asking God questions about the 'why' of these Asia trips, but I am very happy just to come along - as long as He knows why, this is enough, isn't it?

I do have some thoughts though:
* My heart has been engaged with Cambodia and it won't let go, and there are so many specific people who matter to me there; it is good to keep and develop the connections.
* I have long cared about children who are sexually abused and want to play a part, however small, in stopping it.
* I have grown to love and respect the full-time missionaries, and bringing them some support, encouragement and blessing means a lot to me.
* I am researching and writing - there is a book coming I think; I'm not sure when, but it is in process.
* I am better equipped to be a voice when I know from experience what I am talking about, and I have more authority and credibility when people know that I have been 'there'.
* The foundation of all the above remains the idea Patrica King communicated with the title of her book 'The Light Belongs in the Darkness'. My perspective changed the day I saw that book (didn't even need to read it!!!) and it has really affected how I live my life as a Christian.

Sophy's Visit

Sophy Kann is the Operation Justice Director with XP Missions. I met her in 2012, and we have become good friends. It was a lovely surprise, last year, while in Cambodia, to hear that she had been invited to a wedding in England. We waited with bated breath to see if her visa application would be approved, and were delighted when it was. We then invited Sophy to spend the week after the wedding with our family in Hampshire. 

It was an amazing privilege to have her with us, and the things that happened during our short week together really warmed my heart. 

First, we were able to take her to meet the UK contingent of Kingdom Horse and some of the Horses for Orphans team. As I had told her a lot about our love for Brazil and Ingela's project there, it was wonderful to connect the pieces. 


Later in the week, our good friends from Brazil, the Santiagos, came to visit, and we had a culture day, during which Sophy taught the children about Cambodia, and prepared a Cambodian meal for us. (At least, it was similar to a Cambodian meal - Sophy was not happy because the ingredients were not correct. It is not easy, for example, to find fresh lemongrass in England!) Again, there was a wonderful sense of distances being breached and the world being made small. I love Brazil and I love Cambodia. Living in England, I am equally far away from both countries, and they, of course, are extremely far from each other. But God brought together representatives of all three countries, to sit together and talk and enjoy a meal and worship our God, the same God for us all. 


Over the weekend, we met with good friends of ours who run a church in Swindon. They invited Sophy to share about XP Missions, and we ended up doing so together. Afterwards, they took up an offering for Sophy's work in Cambodia. Again, it was a special time, and who would have believed it possible, that she and I would get to share the beautiful stories of children rescued and restored - in an English context. 

 The final thing in a week of special things, was that I got to introduce Sophy to my precious Highland pony, Teri. I gave her a lesson in horsemanship and then she had a ride. Not long, because it was very cold in January, and Sophy was not used to our weather at all!

Sharing with Patricia King

Just after my return from Cambodia, we went to Devon, for a conference where Patricia King was a speaker. I went over to say 'Hello' and give her an update about the children in the safe house. It was a real privilege then to be invited to share news from Cambodia with the conference delegates. It was delightful to tell them about the children and how well they were doing.

So often, when thinking about these trips, I find myself reflecting on the mystery that I go to give, but end up a recipient. The joy, the love, the fellowship and connection with people on the other side of the world, the tremendous honour of 'stopping for the one' as Heidi taught, the sense of partnering with my Father in things that are close to His heart... all combine to make me feel so gifted, so blessed, so privileged.

Conclusions

Reflecting on this trip, I have wondered whether it is worth it - the high financial, physical, and emotional cost. Sometimes I think that I should just send money and stay home.

But then I think about the things that happened in such a short time, and of Patricia King's 'The Light BELONGS in the Darkness', and I realise that it is very good that I go in person, both for myself and for others.

What were the highlights for this particular trip?

* Spending time with Andrea Aasen who heads up XP's Operation Justice, Cambodia, and meeting Shelly Boer, Amy Learn, and Jen Jewett of IRIS Cambodia; there is something incredibly precious about being in the presence of such laid-down lives.
* Being part of an incredible team that was composed of citizens of many nations: Mark & Sharon from Australia, Suzanna from Hong Kong, Rome, Cynthia and George from Canada, Rachael, Jenn, Christen, and Lorraine from the USA....
* Re-connecting with my amazing and much-loved Khmer friends - Sambo, Rose, Sophi and Kim
* Narith Chhoeum coming all the way from Palin to see me, and us all going out for supper together
* Delicious food, especially the salad I had at 'Daughters of Cambodia''s restaurant, and my meal at the Khmer restaurant
* Coconut!

* Visiting Phnom Penh for the first time - a city that had captured my heart and my imagination since watching 'The Killing Felds' so many years before.
* Visiting the Killing Fields and S-21 prison; a difficult but important experience
* Hearing Sambo's testimony
* Visiting New Life church
* Visiting 'Daughters of Cambodia's restaurant and shop and seeing something of this wonderful ministry at work.
* Meeting Pastor Chuck not just once, but twice, when circumstances dictated that I would not see him at all (I had asked God about it though!)
* Hearing and receiving from long-term missionaries like Eric and Ginny Hansen, Steve and Molly, and Alice Collier
* Our daily 'God Times'

* Singing the Creation song with yet another group of Khmer children
* Praying for the teenage boy in the hospital with the incredibly sad eyes - praying for joy. I had faith for this, because I saw God do it with a boy in Brazil.
* Visiting with the elderly couple in the village where we washed feet
* Seeing Johnnie and Esther in the Safe House and being with Lorraine when she bought and delivered their bikes

So many precious things, treasures, collected in one short week. It is this that keeps on bringing me back to Cambodia.

Safe House and other Special Treats

I woke up with a sense of excitement at the thought of going to New Life Fellowship this morning. I had met Pastor Chuck McCaul the year before, in Poipet, and had enjoyed hearing about his ministry in Cambodia. I loved the vision of his church which was (quoting from the website): " To plant a New Testament church in Phnom Penh which will have a positive influence on every sector of Cambodian society: religion, education, politics, social relationships, business, sports, and communications - and will be a model and resource centre for planting churches in every province of Cambodia with the same philosophy and foundation and to send Cambodians as missionaries to other countries." And I had kept in touch with him via Facebook, hearing updates about the church plant in Poipet. I had also chosen to sponsor the school-fees of the little boy who had had such fun playing computer games on my laptop the year before, and Pastor Chuck was overseeing this sponsorship.

I was looking forward to seeing some of the fruit of  Pastor Chuck's labours, and I was not disappointed. New Life Church hums with life. As we arrived, people were leaving from the first service, and others were arriving for the second service. To my surprise I found Pastor Chuck, just coming out the gate as we were going in. There was time for a quick hug and a photograph, and then we were swept up into the building in a sea of happy faces and soon found ourselves seated near the front. The service was in Khmer, but there was a visiting speaker and she spoke in English with a translator, so we were easily able to follow. She spoke on 'Sowing and Reaping'. (Click on the link for a summary of her excellent talk). The worship was really special; songs we knew well, but sung in Khmer.

After church we went for lunch, and then we helped Andrea pack up the resources that had been used for the XP outreaches. And then Lorraine and I left with Sophy and Andrea to buy bicycles for the XP children who live in the Safe House. As the truck was fully loaded, we had to go to the house first in order to offload everything, so that we would have room for the bicycles. This all took a while, and it was close on 4pm by the time we set off in search of the bicycle shop Sophy had been told was near a market place. Well, we found the market place, no problem. The bicycle shop was another story! It was a case of asking for directions, being directed down increasingly narrow alleyways and pathways, and eventually finding ourselves stuck in front of a pile of greens in the midst of what looked like a vegetable market. But no bicycle shop anywhere! Eventually, still following instructions from various passersby, we found ourselves back on the main road. And there, on the other side, was the bicycle shop. It hadn't been necessary to drive through the market after all! One thing I must say, is that we got to see something of the incredible fortitude, patience and driving skill of Andrea. I suspect that some of my old habit patterns might have come to the fore in those circumstances, with at least a little snarling and swearing. She, on the other hand, kept her cool, even when someone's motorbike handle scraped a nasty scratch along the side of our vehicle as they squeezed past us.

We managed to do a U-turn (no small feat of courage in Cambodia!) and parked outside the bicycle shop on the main road. Oh no! It was closed. By now it was well after 5pm, and it was getting dark. There were some food sellers in the street, and one of them went to call the shop owner. I was surprised to find him willing to open his shop for us. So within a short while, some very grateful ladies were ready to choose bicycles. Lorraine and some of her friends in the USA had raised the money, and there was enough to buy 5 bicycles - one for each of the XP children and one for the carer and one for the carer's son. What fun it was, choosing them all.

It took quite a long time, choosing bicycles, waiting while the pedals and baskets were attached, and finally loading them into the truck. Esther's little bicycle didn't fit in alongside the bigger bicycles and ended up being tied on the back. We were concerned that this arrangement would not last all the way back to the Safe House, and Kristen volunteered to sit in the back with the bicycles, to keep a supervisory eye on them. It was just as well that we did this, because we hit a particularly deep pothole, and Esther's bike broke free of it's ties and fell into the road. Lorraine and I jumped out and ran as fast as we could, to where it was lying. I could see approaching motorcycles and all I could think of was the disappointment our little sweetheart would experience if her bike was damaged. Fortunately we managed to pick up the bike and take it to safety before someone rode over it. Back at the vehicle we found poor Sophy in a state of shock; for some reason she thought it was Kristen who had fallen off the back, rather than a bicycle!

We arrived at the Safe House to find the children besides themselves with excitement. Esther was on her bike before we had a chance to remove the packaging, and with an imperious command of: "Move away! Move away!" she prepared to set off into the dark. She was most disappointed to realise that there is an art to cycling, and that she has not yet mastered it! Johnnie was hiding in the bushes, completely overwhelmed with happiness; you could see his bright smile flashing even thought he was not willing to come out just then. But after a while he did, and he was very proud to point out his bike - the red one. The dog was running around, sensing the excitement, and there was a lot of hugging and laughter. It was a very happy time, enhanced by the croaking of frogs in the background. It was hard to tear ourselves away, but by now it was getting really late, and Kristen was due to take the overnight bus to Poipet at nine. So reluctantly, and with a few last hugs, we left.


 Driving back in the dark, we were amused to find ourselves behind a van with a motorbike protruding from its rear. It seems that we were not the only ones driving bikes around Phnom Penh that night!

Back at the hotel there was just enough time for a quick supper, and then it was time for sad farewells. It had been a good trip and a worthwhile outreach. We parted with a clear sense that this was not an end, merely a pause, and that we would certainly be seeing each other again.

Washing Feet

Today we went to one of the village communities in the city, where we washed feet. Following the example Jesus modelled for us just before His death, we find that it has a powerful way of expressing our hearts and opening the way to further conversation with people. In Khmer culture, the feet are the lowest and the least honourable part of the body. When we come and wash their feet, they understand that we are honouring them on the deepest possible level. In a country where life is bought and sold; where Cambodians are often seen as inferior by the nations around them, and where the old and the weak and the poor have even less value; where hearts are still broken after years of trauma and rejection and shame and suffering, this means so much.

We started off washing the feet of the children, and of course it was ticklish, which made them laugh and laugh. We had 7 wash basins, so the team took it in turns to wash feet. Some of the people started crying when we washed their feet. I had three little boys come to have their feet washed, one after the other. The first two giggled all the time, but the third was very serious. He seemed a thoughtful child, without any of the frivolousness of his peers. However, he didn't seem sad. I could imagine him as a MP one day.... What if I was washing the feet of a future leader of Cambodia!

After my turn to wash feet, I wandered over to where Rome was chatting with a family. This family had been very welcoming when they saw us arriving, calling out greetings and smiling and waving. Rome asked if there was anything he could pray for, and the husband said that he had less energy as he was getting old. So Rome prayed and asked that he could have more energy and strength than before. The couple had a beauty and a dignity and a gift of hospitality and they made us very welcome, inviting us to sit with them and talk. They were very interested to hear where we had come from and our ages. They introduced us to their son and his wife and daughter - their grandchild. They were a very connected family. I found myself thinking that this must be like old Cambodia, Cambodia before a whole generation was so mercilessly wiped out with the resulting defragmentation of culture and society and family.

The son was a strong and beautiful young man, and as I looked at him I had a definite impression that he had a lot of leadership on him, and that he had power to influence his community, but that he had to choose whether to use this power for good or for bad. I shared this with Kim, and she said that his dad had told her that he was taking drugs. I felt that there was such a big calling for him, and so much that God would do through him, but that there was a choosing that had to take place. The impression remained, so I asked Sambo to translate for me and I shared this with him. I told him it was to encourage him, and because I really wanted to see him enter into all that is meant for him. He listened attentively, and thanked me. I felt so much for him. So much potential. Please God, let him not waste it.

The mother of this young man was very lovely. She had grace and dignity and I found myself thinking of the woman described in Proverbs 31. She shared that she had five children; I said so did I.  She then showed me a photo of herself and her husband when they were younger. The same grace and dignity was present.

Meanwhile, another elderly lady arrived, much older than them. She said she also wanted prayer for her age. The husband of the family told us that she was ninety years old! She was amazingly healthy and agile for her age. And she was so full of joy; she smiled all the time. But she didn't have a single tooth in her mouth!

We prayed for her, asking God to bless her and strengthen her. She then told us that she was a Christian, and that she went to church every Sunday. She also told us that she used to be a Khmer dancer, and as she started to show us hand movements we caught a glimpse of how lovely she must have been. She was quite astonishing; she was so old, but so full of life!

We chatted a little longer, and then it was time to go. As we prepared to leave the husband of the family said please to visit again and that we were welcome in his home anytime.  We left feeling so favoured. We came to honour them, but they honoured us. It is amazing how often this happens here in Cambodia.

We then went straight for lunch - at a Western restaurant. Cynthia was completely overwhelmed at the size of her sandwich!

Back at the hotel we had some time with Eric Hanson, husband of Ginny, who runs Sak Saum. They have been in Cambodia since 2004, and he shared a little about their lives and their work and about the heart with which they approach it. He spoke about servanthood, and about how Jesus washed His disciples' feet, demonstrating the attitude with which we must live. It was very relevant considering that this was exactly what we had been doing earlier that day. He told us about the 'Khremar' (I'm not sure of the spelling), a scarf most Cambodians have, and which is used for many purposes. At the end he gave us each one as a gift; to remind us always that our calling is to serve. It was a very precious thing, and it felt like an impartation from his own serving heart came along with the scarf.

In the evening we all went out for supper. Somewhat to our surprise, it was raining hard. Which made it rather hard to do what we had planned for the evening, namely take a walk along the river and see if there were any people in need that we could pray for. We returned to our hotel and after a lot of joking around and dilly-dallying, decided to have a night off so that we could do a bit of processing, thinking, writing and praying. We are a great team, and we have such a lot of fun together, but nothing changes the fact that there is overwhelming hardship and desperate need all around us, and we see some pretty heart-breaking things. It is so important to take our own hurts and reactions to all this to Jesus day by day, and to allow ourselves time and room to process our own emotions and thoughts...

I had hoped to catch up with my friend Rigen. Rigen was one of the translators in Poipet on my first trip to Cambodia, and we have kept in touch via Facebook. It is nearly two years since I have seen him, and we had arranged to meet in the hotel lobby at 5. But then he contacted me to say that his father was in hospital, unconscious and maybe dying.

Later that night Sambo contacted me with the sad news that Rigen's dad had in fact died.

Women's Ministry Focus

This morning Ginny Hanson came to speak to us about her life and work here in Phnom Penh. She and her husband Eric, run In His Steps International, an organisation that oversees various community projects and interventions in Cambodia. Ginny came to share with us about one of these, Sak Saum. Quoting from the website, Sak Saum is dedicated to the rescue, restoration, transformation and rehabilitation of vulnerable and exploited people by creating a "nurturing, empowering program which facilitates vocational training in sewing, excellent products, and community development."

Ginny's compassion, dedication and power came through clearly as she shared from her heart about her work, and later, when we went to visit the showroom of Sak Saum, we got to see the quality of the results for ourselves. Sak Saum products are beautifully made, and along with the pleasure of owning a lovely item, you get to participate in the joy of restoring dignity to a person. So it was with a particular sense of purpose that I bought myself a handbag. Inside is written 'For Freedom'. Yes, Absolutely. More please Lord!

We went to one of Daughters of Cambodia's 'Sugar 'n Spice' cafe's for lunch. This was a very special treat for me, as I have had a particular love for the work of Daughters ever since I first heard of it. This organisation offers women working in the sex industry a viable alternative, empowering them to set themselves free. Choice is power. Never turning anyone away, Daughters of Cambodia offers training in seven different retail and service businesses.

'Sugar 'n Spice' is one of these businesses. And the salad I had for lunch was one of the nicest - and the most unusual - I have ever eaten: green mango, carrot and cucumber salad with a coconut dressing. I liked the environment and the decor. And I loved being there.

Upstairs in the same building is the Phnom Penh House of Prayer.

In the afternoon we went to one of the slums. This visit left me hoping that I will never again allow words of complaint about my home out of my mouth. Truth is that I probably will, back there in my comfortable first world. But maybe I will do so a little less often, a little less quickly...

I have complained about the inconvenience of having only one bathroom; these people have no bathroom.

I have complained that our house is very noisy, with so many people in it; these people live, a whole family, in one ramshackle room.
I have complained that there are too many chores to do - but I have running water, cold and hot; electricity; a washing machine, windows in my walls.
I have complained that it is hard work, caring for a family. These women show me what hard work really looks like. And yet they have dignity, and deserve respect for the grace with which they cope in very difficult circumstances.


The village we went to is in an area that may flood during the rainy season. So many of the houses are built on stilts, and there is a narrow wooden passageway along the edge so that you can get from one house (room) to another. You walk along this passageway, hoping that it will not collapse, and look down... below is a pile of refuse. Great breeding ground for vermin and disease, especially with water added.

At the end of this walk way is a small room that is rented by XP. It is used for teaching, children's activities and minstry to women. Today, Tracey, Suzanna and I met with some ladies and painted their nails for them. With a lot of help from Rose, our translator, we were able to have some sort of communication with a mother, her daughter and her young grandchild. Three generations, and they looked so alike. Tracey and I had both left our glasses behind, as we had not realised that we would be painting nails! It was rather funny. Rose explained the problem to the grandmother, but she wanted her nails painted anyway. I did my best, with quite a bit of instruction from her. I don't think she was very satisfied with the result, because later she cleaned the nail polish off - but she wore it for a while first, I think so as not to offend me!


The daughter had a very swollen eye. We asked if we could pray for it, and she agreed. We prayed and she said it felt better. We prayed again, and this time she was able to open her eye and she said it felt much better.

It was such a shocking thing, to see how these people, many many people, were living. I feel completely wordless when I try to describe it. Terms like squalor, filth, poor, broken, smelly, dirty just fail to capture what it is really like. I left there with a heavy heart, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. The problems are so huge! I found myself wondering what makes any of us think we can make any sort of difference at all? I left in a rather sombre frame of mind...

We went to a Mexican restaurant for supper, where I had the most delicious Nachos I have ever had. Served with spicy bits of chicken, I savoured every delectable mouthful!

And I had a lovely encounter with this beautiful girl. In the afternoon I had had a bit of free time, and I decided to make a necklace for someone. Thinking about the testimony of Sak Saum's National Director, Theavy Kang, in which she shared how God changed her sorrow into joy, I used a dark bead to symbolise the sad and difficult experiences of life. A grey bead to show the joy coming. And a red bead to show the blood of Jesus, because His salvation turns even the bad things to good for those who love Him. As Bill Johnson says: 'The trial becomes the testimony.' I knew this to be true from my own life experience, and I had a sense that I should share this thought with someone - I asked God to show me who. When our meal arrived at the restaurant, I was getting my camera out of the bag to take a photo, and the necklace fell on the floor. Our waitress picked it up, and as she did so, she joked and said: 'Is this for me?' Immediately I said: 'Yes, it is for you!'. She was so shocked and said she was only joking, but I explained that I had made it and was waiting for God to show me who it was for, and then I explained the meaning of the beads. And interestingly, the colours of the beads matched the colours of the dress she was wearing perfectly. She was delighted, and wore them straight away...

We finished off our day at a Karioke bar. There are many Karioke bars in the cities of Cambodia. Here you can sing with a pretty girl, in English or in Khmer for as long as you like. And other, less innocent things - for a price. The girls in these bars are always young, impossibly young to be involved in so sordid a line of work. I think of my own daughters, and I want to cry. Every time. Their stories are heart-breakingly similar - poverty in the family; hungry siblings; a father or mother with health issues. None are proud of what they do. In many cases, parents, far away, don't know exactly what work their daughters are doing (but they want the money the daughters send home, and keep the pressure on to provide it). Few would choose to stay if there were other options. Trapped in the need to make money, somehow, in an environment where jobs are scarce and salaries impossibly low, they feel bereft of choice. Change this, and maybe there will be less encounters with girls robbed of the joy and hope and dreams of adolescence and emerging adulthood.

For the first time in a Karioke bar, we laughed and had fun. Previously, my experience of Karioke bars has been of sitting with girls who cry as they tell their story.

When you arrive at a Karioke bar, you are escorted to a nicely decorated room with comfortable seating. Drinks and food are offered (we have learned not to accept, as it is outrageously expensive!) And you are given a song-list, from which you can choose Khmer or English songs. The sound equipment at this bar was really good. While we were waiting for the girls to come, Sophi and Sambo sang a song in Khmer. It was beautiful. Khmer songs are very plaintive, and often have sad themes to do with love and loss.

Suzanna and I attempted to sing 'Moon River'. Our problem was that we had trouble keeping up with the words, which had us exploding in laughter. Not a very harmonious sound at all. When the two girls arrived, they were extremely shy, so we carried on singing, and after a while they joined in. Then Sambo chose a lively song and we all got up and danced around wildly, the girls included. It was good fun and all of us laughed a lot. After this it was easier to talk with the girls. One girl was actually from Poip
et. She had come to Phnom Penh to study, and she had had a part-time job. But when she lost the job, she could find no other work other than the Karioke bar if she wanted to continue studying. We asked her if her parents knew what work she was doing, and she shook her head vehemently. She said they would be so ashamed if they knew.

So there you have it. A young girl with ambition and dreams, like any young girl back home in England. She wants a better life and knows that getting a good education will help. But education is expensive. So she needs a job. So here she is, in the flowering of her life, selling her body to make the money she needs in the hope of a chance for something better. She runs quite a gauntlet of risks - STD's, AIDS, violence, trauma, and financial exploitation - in her hope of a better life. Will she make it? Or will she end up like so many others, lying in the broken wreckage of her dreams?

Before we left we prayed for protection for both girls - and also for the young women, prostitutes in training, who served our drinks. I left feeling more than a little helpless. And more than a bit angry too. It was a tough day emotionally, and I was glad to have seen the work of Sak Saum and Daughters of Cambodia - it gave me hope.

Back in my room, I ran myself a hot bath and soaking in bubbles I reflected on the story of the loaves and the fish, when Jesus fed so many with so little. I really needed reminding of that. I needed reminding of the faith of a small boy, who gave his lunch to Jesus, KNOWING that it could not possibly be enough. God was very gracious in His ministry to me as I gave Him all my helpless and angry feelings, and my oh so little offerings.

I thought of Heidi Baker, and her question: 'What will you do with your little lunch?' Alongside her question comes her challenge to 'Stop for the one'. And I see that there really really is no other option. I can turn a blind eye, but now it is too late for blind eyes. I am responsible for what I know. There is no crossing to the other side of the road. The only option is to get involved. Empty handed as I am, trusting that God can use my love, my heart, my compassion. Multiplying and enlarging it so that after all, it does make a difference.

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Sak Saum - Story Company Partner [Cambodia] from Story Company on Vimeo.