Right now, I am sitting in my regular Saturday cafe, called Jars of Clay, sipping at fresh watermelon juice. I’ve always wanted to be a regular at a cafe where the servers know who I am. And it really is exactly that… juice squeezed from a watermelon, still room temperature because you don’t chill watermelon here. I watch the thick layer of watermelon foam sink a little further in my glass as I slowly sip at the juice, and I am struck again at the beauty of simplicity. Why can’t we have fresh watermelon juice in the States? It’s easy. Buy a watermelon and squeeze it. No sugar. No additives. No artificial flavorings that junk up our body systems and make us skeptical of everything we eat. Thank You, Jesus, for this moment. Just me, you, and fresh watermelon juice.
So I just got over a short bout of typhoid fever. Crazy, I know! I had been vaccinated a few years ago so I had a very mild form of typhoid, thankfully. But to make up for getting off the hook for that, I was also coughing up one of my lungs with some form of bronchitis at the same time. But after 15 consecutive meals of only rice porridge (called bwa-bwa) and some form of meat, I am feeling better and am back to eating normal food again. That normal food includes things like my Mom’s party mix that we make at Christmas which always makes me think of Christmas time. The party mix that a few weeks ago I was desperately craving and almost made for myself using Bethany and Ryan’s oven. The party mix that I wanted Vanna and Boeurn to taste to know what Christmas tastes like for me at home. And that same party mix that my dear mother and father sent to me all the way over here in Cambodia without knowing I had wanted it so badly. What a joyous moment that was when I saw that familiar container filled to the brim with the salty nostalgic snack! That normal food also includes things like bread, Khmer curry, sour fish soup (one of my favorites here) and cauliflower chaa (stirfry). And yes, eating normal food also means delicious fresh watermelon juice to savor.
Something else I have been thinking about. I want to do something hands-on. I sit in my office day after day, talking with my wonderful social workers about the clients they are seeing and trying to come up with the best solutions for them, despite the lack of resources and supports here in Cambodia. I see some of the clients at our weekly church service on Friday afternoon, and I see others when they come over to the social work office to meet with the counselors. But I only really have time to say “Sous-e-dey” as a greeting or “som-toh, bong” if I am in someone’s way. I am not doing much to make a direct difference in anyone’s lives. Yes, yes, I know the work I do is important and helpful. I really do believe that. But the Holy Spirit reminded me of something this week. One of the reasons I left the United States was to be uncomfortable. Even though that is a self-centered motive because it is about me, I wanted to do something that would change how I view things. I believe that is when God works the best. He is our strength when we are weak, right? That is something I have learned over and over again since coming here. It is so easy for me to get caught up in my comfortable life in America and lack no needs. And moreover, it is easy for me to be content with that and not want to push myself. And so I left.
And uncomfortable is what I have been! From the food to new relationships, from vastly different cultural family dynamics than what I’m used to, to an insane lack of traffic patterns, Cambodia has made me uncomfortable. But now I’m settling in. Now I’m getting used to skinny spaces between cars and motos that I weave my bicycle through each day on my way to and from work. I’m adjusting to having neighbors come into our home whenever they want to borrow whatever they want from our fridge. Things are feeling semi-normal. And now God is reminding me that I came here to be uncomfortable. Shucks.
But I know this is what my heart wants. Even though my selfish desires want to just stay in this comfortable place where I’m getting along with my host family and learning to like strange foods and sitting in my office, safe from needing to speak Khmer and make a fool of myself; deep down, I long for change. I long to be transformed into someone who resembles Jesus. And the way Jesus worked was to go where it was uncomfortable. So I am feeling restless again. Restless to be able to look into the eyes of a hurting person and love them. Restless to do something with the hope of Jesus I have in my heart instead of just keeping it inside. I want to share that hope, but I’m just not sure how yet. I can’t speak Khmer well enough. I’m getting better, but am a far-shot from being able to say anything that would explain to another person even what God is teaching me now. So maybe for now I need to look for those people I CAN share with – people who speak English. Or maybe…part of the “uncomfortable” God is calling me to is to use the little Khmer I know to build relationships. To put myself in a vulnerable position by asking to be a friend. Maybe that means inviting someone to a cafe for a friendly and uncomfortable conversation all in Khmer.
And maybe some fresh watermelon juice too.
Wholeness restored...Beauty pursued 