Reflections on Life and Spirituality 101

I remember spending the first night in a foreign land. Enclosed around me is mosquito netting, very much unlike what I am used to at home. I recall being startled by the heavy pitter-patter of the pouring rain against the zinc roof, tiny droplets carried in through the crevices, sprinkling onto my forehead. Staring upwards, around and about me, I realize that I am in Cambodia. And yes, after an almost scorching day, God is faithful to provide rainfall, the raw but pleasant scent, with the cool, waffling breeze that is usually associated with rain. I turned left, Teddy and Dr. Moses seem to be resting through the pattering backdrop of the night. The thoughts that ring through the drowsiness are, "Life is so simple here… would I be able to live in place like this? Will I be able to let go when the Lord calls me to go one day?" Difficult questions to answer, especially in the wee hours of the morning. Drowsing back into unconsciousness, my parting thoughts were, "… man has come so far. We have made so many things our necessities. Yet what we actually need is only so little. We have made things so complicated…"

Morning comes, greeted by the crowing of the roosters breaking through the cool, wispy air, pierced by rays of daybreak sneaking in through the wooden window panes. We are supposed to go to visit the villages. To pray for the land, and have a first contact with "our" people group. After a hearty breakfast, we hopped into the hooded pick up truck to be on our way.

The cool morning has given way to a hot, humid day. As we zip out of Kampong Speu into Phnom Penh towards the villages, strips and strips of vast landscapes seemingly sail pass us, with scenery of coconut trees picturesque of the tropics, paddy fields not yet green at this season, grazing buffaloes by the roadside, and vast open areas - reaching out to as far as you can see, virtually non-mountainous. As we move into Phnom Penh, there are more people here.

Many more.
Cars. Motorbikes. Trishaws. Bicycles. Pedestrians.
People in cars. One. Two. Three. Four. Five, Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.
People on bikes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
Overcrowded.
Right lane. Left lane. Cross lane. Doesn't matter.
Chaotic.

Yet nobody seems to be bothered. Life just goes on.

Around the city, I observe shrines and monuments. The eight-headed serpent and other different variations of deities guard over this place. These "guardians" seem to be all over the place, in building designs, gates, entrances into places of worship, and I presume, in the hearts of the people. I wonder. This country, Cambodia, I have heard so much about - its wartime atrocities, poverty and political instabilities. Perhaps there is a link here, the spiritual deception translating into physical chaos. What's keeping the people blinded from receiving the love of Christ? Religious and ethnic strife has not been the primary cause for Cambodia's problems. If that is the case, then what has caused this country to raise up men who have so much greed and lust in their hearts, for money, power and political control, and to impose one form of communism over the country during the Khmer Rouge era, an ideological influence which has sowed and reaped so much affliction to the country, even until now?



Yet, behind the chaotic facade, everything is almost normal here, too normal. It is this very thing which strikes me. The mundaneness of life - seemingly unaware of our presence, and non-chalant about our purposes here. The people are about doing their own thing, surviving another day, living the way they know how to live. Their eyes show hopelessness and despair, deeply entrenched in thought, and reflective of what this day will bring. There is almost a certain sadness in their countenance. Presumably due to the heat, but I think more probably due to life's hardships. The human spirit is cracked, not yet shattered, but without direction. There is nothing spectacular here. Life just goes on.



Enter. The villages. Clay roads almost all the way in. Wooden huts built along the banks of the Mekong river. Most of our people group are fishermen. The women are squatting on the porches carrying their babies or preparing food. The children, these carefree spirits, seem to not know that they are poor because they never knew any better. They laugh, play in the waters of the dirty riverbank, having fun despite some of them not having enough food to eat. The malnutrition shows - the children's hair turn dull brown from shiny black.

Looking around, I sense the despair, their despair. My sentiment of sadness, comes not so much from observing the hardships and poverty. It's not with the fact that children have little food to eat; that families, adults and children alike, have to go to the streets to get a day's worth of food. The sorrow, lies in the fact that I see little hope for these people, especially the children.



The only difference between them and us, is that we were born into a country with more opportunities. God, why all this suffering? How will healing come? How will the people hear of the hope You have given through your Son? The chasm of despair is so great. The people are barely surviving day to day to keep their heads above water. How can they even look to and plan for a future? After a while, there is a certain numbness in your spirit. Whatever we can give never seems to be sufficient. How do I deal with what I have seen or experienced? I never really got an answer or explanation to my questions until I got back to Malaysia.

Colonel Tan and Aunty Mabel, the "retired" couple who is taking care of the FGA Cambodia Street Children Home, took to the pulpit the Sunday following the trip (27th October 1997). The word from the Lord that night was about being broken and used of Him in our lifetime. Colonel Tan, being an ex-army personnel, is perceived as a hard person. Even as he begins to speak about Cambodia and the children, you realize that he carries such a heart for what God has laid within him. He talked about the street children and the poor - the multitudes and multitudes of them. He explained that the poor will always be with us. Yes, they are all around us and will continue to increase. But the bigger picture is this: We are not called to look at the poor. We are not called to look first at the needs around us. We are called to look at Him first. Because we don't have the strength if we do otherwise. From that, I realized that we can feed the poor and they will live another day. We can show them how to make a living and they can live perhaps a lifetime. But what they need more is to know the love of God in their hearts. That Jesus has provided for them, something that nobody has or can ever do - a life that, even though is lived ungloriously in this life, has a hope for the life after. Yes, we need to show mercy. We should show compassion. But we should not lose sight of the larger picture of grace which God has painted for us.

In the miracle account of the feeding of the hungry crowds, Jesus used loafs of bread and multiplied it to feed the multitudes. Then, the question posed to us is this : Will we let Christ break us, whatever little we have, to feed the multitudes? A miracle can happen but it will take the little we have, all of it, to be given back to God. The Lord reminded me that it will not be our human hands that will move the world, but His hand which will accomplish that He has purposed.

I remember Aunty Mabel weeping as she spoke about some of the children being taken back by their parents, after being with the center for some time. And I realized that she is crying because she misses them, but more so for the lost opportunities which the children would have received if they have stayed on.

As the pictures of the children from FGA Cambodia flashed before me, I was started to tear. I realized that I have met many of them. Those innocent eyes. Their heart-warming smiles. I recalled the first time the children met us. There was a look of curiosity in their eyes about us. A bit apprehensive. But then we smiled at them. They smiled back. And slowly, they seem to cling so readily to us, even though we were strangers. So many of them need so much love. They would just come up to us to hug us or hold our hand.

I then realized how much different I see the kids at the FGA center compared to the children in Phnom Penh and the villages we visited. In the center, there is, upon the children's lives, an immeasurable sense of hope where formerly there was darkness. I realized, that the wounds of their lifetime, the hurts of growing up in the harsh environment, can be healed because God is in and with them. These children HAVE to make it. They HAVE to grow up strong in the stature and knowledge of God. They NEED to. Cambodia NEEDS them to. They are the country's next generation of leaders who will make a difference because they know the Lord and will stand for His righteous ways. So many things can take them away from the path which has been set before them, so long the journey. They desperately need the covering and support of our prayers. For healing. For the Lord to pour into their spirit a desire for Him. For their lives to be surrounded by godly people who will give into and have a healthy influence upon their lives. For seeds which are planted now to bear fruit for God. Even the people who care for them need to be covered by our prayers.

Yes, there is nothing spectacular about Cambodia. Nothing that we can describe as glorious. Yet, it is God's purposes in that place which make it special and worthwhile. It is having the faith to see the potential that God can do, His purposes and glory unfolding in that place (or for that matter anywhere else) that is exciting. After all that's said and done, what's left for us is this question : Which part of God's purposes do each one of us want to be part of the answer to? For me, that's a question which stirs my spirit strongly.

(February 1998)