Never Say Never (2)

As I stood praying by the infamous gallows of Tuos Sleng Genocide Museum, I knew my job in Cambodia was finally finished, at least for this round. I hadn't expected it, but the opportunity presented itself as we had some time in Phnom Penh after wrapping up our 5 days ministry in 3 villages outside the city. The burden to pray over Cambodia's horrific Killing Fields had been with me ever since I signed up to return to the land I said I never would 10 years ago. I had read up the history of the 4 years mass genocide that took the lives of an estimated 1.7 million victims at the hands of a mad man named Pol Pot. Tuos Sleng is but one of the many sites where systemic torture, detention, interrogation and murders were committed. Given a choice, I would not visit such a place, even tho it's a 'must-see' for tourists to Cambodia. But ever since I began missions, God has a funny way of taking me to tourist spots to pray. So pray I did together with my fellow lady team-member who had accompanied me, as our local interpreter/guide walked us thru the buildings of the complex, recalling grisly and graphic accounts of the murder of some 17,000 prisoners there. My eyes glanced thru row upon row of victims' photos and displays of human skulls marked by inflicted wounds. My mind could not comprehend the horror of such a tragedy in a nation's history. I was so choked up; all I could think of was the blood shed. But as we exited, we bumped into the sole survivor still alive today. The old man obligingly took a photo with us and as we posed smiling for the camera,  this thought flitted through my mind - in the midst of all that death, life - even if it's only 1 life - still overcomes. When it is most dark, even 1 little light shines brightest.   

This missions trip was not easy but it was a most satisfying one.  We spent some 9 hours on the road the  first day itself;  caught in a massive traffic jam as apparently it was the water-festival holiday period and everyone was on a 'balik-kampung' exodus out of Phnom Penh, headed for the ferry terminal to get into the interior provinces. At one stage our driver simply turned off the engine and the guys pushed the van along as we literally inched our way along the road jam-packed with heavy lorries and cars. It seemed to me the only people who moved were the ones on feet, motorbikes and bicycles. After finally clearing the jam, it was an arduous bumpy ride over narrow dirt tracks filled with muddy pot-holes.

At the first two villages, the whole team of (2) ladies and 9 men (4 Malaysians and 5 Cambodians) slept communally on the upper level of the local parsonage on bamboo-rod flooring overlaid with mats. Only in the last village did we have the 'luxury' of sleeping on the tiled floor of a 'proper church' building. It was tough on the back. But tougher for us ladies were the daily and nitely 'excursions' to the outside toilet/bath 'room'. Having nowhere to hang the million and one things we ladies need for our baths and maneuvering to change clothes by torchlight is no easy feat. Anyhow I have learnt to live with the physical inconveniences that are part and parcel of doing missions in remote places - every time I have to rough it out only makes me more appreciative of my own bed and mattress back home. I learn not to take mundane things like never-ending piped supply of clean water , clothes-line and toilet paper for granted.

Physical challenges aside, I enjoyed the ministry, especially the team camaderie. The 5 Cambodians who acted as our 'local connection' were fine young men indeed, ever willing to help with anything and everything; nothing was beneath them, they even cooked when there were not enough hands. The doctor worked overtime at every medical camp session,  seeing up to some 300 hundred patients in total, way beyond what would be his 'normal' daily quota of 5 patients.  And the pastors themselves were a true example of servant-leadership; getting their own hands dirty, lugging chairs, serving the villagers who kept coming for the free food and medical, standing for hours to pray over every patient who passed thru the doctor's hands. I was humbled just watching them work so hard.

Comparatively I think I did very little 'work' beyond preaching when called to,  teaching the kids now and then when I could steal some time  off from the adult sessions, and assisting at the medical station packing    medicines and checking BPs. In fact this has been my most relaxed trip. For the first time on missions, I had no pre-prepared messages, and the great part is it didn't bother me at all. I think I am finally learning to let God lead all the way instead of being the control-freak that I am prone to be. The messages came as and when I had to preach, teach or pray. 

I did notice the seeming lack of response from the people but one of our more experienced team members explained that it's the Cambodian way; they are by nature passive and gentle people. So I really shouldn't expect people to hands up or come forward when I issue an altar-call, unlike India. Thus I was most touched when after our sharing at the last village, an old lady grabbed my hand, grinned a toothless smile at me and muttered something in Khmer. I only found out later from my interpreter she was telling me 'good'. Just goes to show I shouldn't gauge the impact of the gospel message by outward response alone. After all the Bible tells us God's word that goes forth shall not return to Him void but shall accomplish His purpose (Isaiah 55:11)                          

10 years ago in Cambodia, I cried over the sight of kids eating plain white porridge. Now it was still white porridge but with lots of extras thrown in - meat, veg, nuts, chicken. Plus bread, rice, soup and dishes as well. And it was fed not just to kids but to adults too - anyone and everyone was welcome to sit down for breakfast, lunch and dinner, whenever and wherever we had our sessions. It's as if God wants me to see the abundance after the lack that broke my heart on my first missions trip 10 years back.                                                                            Yes, the people are still poor. Yes, there are still so

many needs. Yet in these 3 villages deep in the interior of Cambodia, all who came were not only fed with very good food (by their standards) and received basic medical treatment, but they heard the gospel message of hope for the first time in their lives. Donated funds provided the material needs, but that's as far as money can give them. The food and the medicine do not last, we foreigners come and go, but beyond all that, now these people know there is a God who can save them; spirit, soul and body, for all eternity. That  knowledge - the name of Jesus - is the richest treasure we  leave with them.  

             

On our last morning back in Phnom Penh, I walked about on my own a bit and found myself in the city's Olympic Stadium where there was apparently a kite-flying competition going on. As I watched colorful kites of all shapes and sizes being hoisted up and taking flight, my heart also soared. What a fitting finale to my trip - here was God's way of showing me a new Cambodia, rising from the ashes of a tragic past, freed to move up into a future that leads all the way back to Him. I am indeed much blessed to go back to the land I said I never would. When the call comes from God, returning to an old hurt isn't a bad thing. 


"...to comfort all who mourn...and provide for those who grieve...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair...They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations." - Isaiah 61:2-4

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Never Say Never (1)

I spoke too soon, when I resolved some 10 years ago after I returned from my first missions trip that I will never go back to Cambodia. There is an old old song whose lyrics goes "I left my heart in San Francisco.." I didn't leave my heart in Cambodia, actually my heart was broken there. Not over some ga-ga tall dark handsome super-hero, but over the children.
Some memories you will never forget. I don't remember anything much about the famous Angkor Wat, but I never forgot the sight of a line of orphans hidden behind a wooden building, squatting and holding onto their bowls of plain white porridge, whilst we adults were seated on a row of benches at the front. We ate the same white porridge - with a very obvious difference - ours came with fried fish. It was when I chanced upon the kids as I was hunting for the toilet that I realized what 'luxuries' we were being  honored with - wooden benches and fried fish. Shame on me for even thinking what a poor meal we were being served.  I never forgot the naked pot-bellied kids running around in the dust. Or the ramshackle little hut on stilts that collapsed under the weight of the crowd who had squeezed in to hear us tell strange stories of Someone named Jesus Christ. I still remember the sting of very cold well water as I struggled in the tiny dark zinc shed without any lights which passed for an outdoor 'bathroom'. And the sharp nip in the nite breeze as I stared up into the vast heavens overhead dotted with what must be millions of twinkling stars - they say in the clear air of the village, you can shine a torch upwards and it will light a trail cutting right thru the nite sky - and they are right. The little beam from my torch really did shine a 'road' up into the very heavens above my head. I felt I knew a little of what Abraham the patriarch must have felt when God took him outside to check out the sky and promised the  old man, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them...So shall your offspring be" (Genesis 15:5). I remember the lump in my throat, the thump-thump in my heart when I looked up at the Cambodian sky. I cried a lot in Cambodia. That's why I didn't want to go back.

But God has a funny way of digging up buried things He wants us to deal with. So it was 10 years down the line....I heard the call very clearly as I was sitting in on a seminar in church. Go to Cambodia. I said, "Yes Lord, I am going...to India" for I had indeed signed up for the India missions trip in December. There was a tug at my heart as I heard the call repeated, Go to Cambodia. This time, I was (a bit) cheezed off and dared answer back..."No, Lord, I am not going to Cambodia. I am going to India."

And I thought that was that. Till lunch time when I found myself seated next to a sister who 'so happened' to be going for the Cambodia missions trip, which was 2 weeks ahead of the India one. Somewhat nonchalantly I asked if there was any need/place for extra people. I almost leapt for joy when she disclosed there was place on her team but no more plane ticket available. I said, "Great, no Cambodia for me." Then another sister piped up, "Let's check with country coordinator first." I said "No need, besides no way we can find her in the middle of this large crowd" - it would be looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack. Off she went, to reappear barely 5 mins later - with leader in tow, who promptly keyed in something on her so-smart phone and told me, "Yes, there is a plane tix, but it's business class". And again I exulted, "Halleluia, I can't go, too expensive, no money" Till the sister who had found her said, "You go, I'll pay your ticket." I protested, but deep in my heart, I knew I was being cornered by none other than God Himself - I had run out of excuses not to go. By the time the whole drama played out a couple of days later, it turned out there was a last minute seat available in Economy class after all. And that's how I found myself signed up for 2 missions trips almost back-to-back, in the midst of a zillion and 1 things I had to take care of at work. Like I said, God has a way of upsetting man's (especially my) carefully laid-out plans.

Someone asked me, why I am so reluctant to go back to Cambodia, when I can keep returning to India. After all, there is no difference between the suffering poor in India and the suffering poor in Cambodia. That's true, as Jesus said, "The poor you will always have with you.." (Matthew 26:11); they are there in every nation, in every nook and corner, even in our own back-streets, if we care to open our eyes and see them. I can only say Cambodia was an experience that so affected me it's like falling in love for the first time and getting one's heart all broken up. It devastates the emotions so much you don't wanna go 'back there' again even tho you may fall in love many times thereafter; but that first love that broke you did something to you inside that you just don't want to walk that particular road again.

But God seems to have other ideas. After weeks of seeking His face, I think I am beginning to understand why He's calling me to go back to a painful place. Some things in life we just gloss over and think it's done with. We can pretend, indeed we may even be so sure we have gotten over 'it', but in actuality, we are only putting Band Aid to cover up a gaping wound, and we delude ourselves it's ok. Well, God's a better Doctor than I, so I guess He's reopening an old wound to heal me properly once and for all.

When I was first told there would be a lot of children's ministry, I should have known already. Even as it's been confirmed our team will be journeying into 2 villages full of kids, my heart was already burdened before that to pray for the children of Cambodia. Now with the trip counting down to 4 days, I can honestly say I am glad I am going after all. God knows and I know Cambodia's children will break my heart all over again, but it will be ok this time....for over all these years, after so many missions trips, I am learning it's when my heart gets broken up a little bit more every time  that I grow up a little bit more too. And that's what makes life more meaningful at the end of the day - when we still care to love for others' sake when loving hurts. After all, that's how Jesus loves.


"Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14

Of Darkness and Light

One review rated it as a 'rousing tale of high adventure, war and star-crossed love, elemental forces and dimensional rifts, of getting hammered, streaking in public and god on the underground - an absolute doozy'. Another one said it 'delivers the goods - action, otherworldly grandiosity, romance, humor'. And I agree absolutely. But then I am biased about super-dashing super-heroes anyway, although actually I am a 'late bloomer' and only recently developed a 'taste' for Marvel Comics characters translated into the big screen. So I have missed most of the 'first installment' movies' which featured them, including the 2011 Thor movie which preceded this latest screening of Thor: The Dark World, which I caught on a public holiday.

Notwithstanding that lack, I enjoyed it thoroughly, not just ogling at the super-hero's muscles wielding his magical hammer, (which always boomerangs back to him whenever he stretches out his hand), admiring the spectacular special effects of a world larger than ordinary earth, or gasping at the fast furious and explosive action scenes. In some respects, Thor is rather like Lord of the Rings..the same epic style that sweeps you up into the grandness of fantasy where logic doesn't and doesn't need to rule. And Thor makes it so much fun. Especially in the entertaining exchanges between the hero and his step-brother Loki, the fictional Norse god of mischief.

But beyond all that, I was especially taken by the 'human-ness' that emerged during the second half of The Dark World. Surprisingly it was a 'by-the-way' scene of the funeral of a beloved queen who died trying to protect a mere mortal that brought a lump to my throat. Even mythical gods grief at death, and the sight of so many lights accompanying a burning barge where her body was let adrift on the waters drew tears from my eyes. Apparently I wasn't the only one whose heart was touched...I spied the lady beside me surreptitiously pulling out a tissue too.

Light vs darkness, life vs death - same old same old theme. There must be something to it that movies are always built around them. It may be just a line in a movie, but perhaps the wise King Odin's explanation is truer than intended, " Some believe that before the universe, there was nothing. They're wrong. There was darkness and it has survived." I am sure they took that right out of the first book of the Bible, "In the beginning....the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep...." (Genesis 1:2). Likewise the only thing that could dispel and defeat the darkness was light...guess again where that came from .."And God said, Let there be light..." (Genesis 1:3)

So even in movies, evil is always darkness. And what are movies without evil villains - Thor's nemesis Malekith is a Dark (what else!) Elf, who seeks to return the universe to its state before creation. By the end of the show, he literally becomes darkness. But beyond the traditional clash of the good vs bad guy, it was the drama of the relationship between Thor and Loki which stole the show, at least for me. Described aptly as the black sheep in the family, Loki is 'defiant, duplicitous, deliciously wicked, thoroughly unrepentant' and dead-pan funny.

But jokes aside, Thor's words to his brother, "I wish I could trust you" is really so sad. Imagine, you can't even trust your brother to help you. Come to think of it, whom can we really trust our life with? And what kind of brother would retort, "If you did, you'd be the fool I always took you for". Man, talk about a dysfunctional family. Whatever happened to love? And just when I thought there was a redeeming feature after all that simmering sibling rivalry and bitter enmity when Loki gets killed to protect Thor as they battle side-by-side against their common enemy, the ending springs a surprise and proves that Loki will always be Loki - scheming, devious, looking out only to make himself no. 1 (isn't that so so human). And Thor walks away from a throne which was rightfully his, presumably he gives it up to be with his one true love in another world.

That's what super-heroes are supposed to do anyway; sacrifice for love. But I know Someone who did it, not in a movie created in Hollywood, but in real life. He walked away from a royal throne, left His world and came to ours to rescue us from the kingdom of darkness which threatens to kill and destroy all, by allowing Himself to be hung on a cross. This is Love, that can always be trusted. Call me a romantic smitten fool, but I know such a Person can be trusted with my very life; He proved Himself true 2000 years ago when He rose from the dead; just like He said He would, even before He died. And just as Jane Foster the earthling patiently waits for her Thor to return to claim her as his own bride, I wait for my Savior, my real hero, Jesus Christ, to come back for me. One day, soon (but hopefully, not before the next super-hero movie!)

"When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, 'I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” - John 8:12