One of the girls that I teach, who's a fairly new employee at Daughters, has been struggling with learning English. She can't read and write Khmer so it makes it hard learning English when she can't take notes in class to spell out English words phonetically in her native language. She gets easily discouraged and it's hard for her to keep up a lot of time. On top of that, she's going through some major family stuff and is just going through a pretty rough time in general. I've been worried about her.

I haven't been the most consistent with getting her in a routine of studying, but yesterday we talked and decided that today we'd get back into it. I've been trying to encourage her to learn Khmer but she just hasn't been able to get any of the other girls to teach her-so I kind of felt like I needed to push her to do that. So...feeling fairly confident in my Khmer, I offered to teach her how to read. Maybe a rash move and not so wise considering I'm going to teach her my less than perfect pronunciations, but hey...let's try it.

Today I got one of the other Khmer girls in the café to help teach the letters. I moreso just facilitated the lesson, rather than teaching, which I thought was better than me doing it myself. And either she had learned the letters before or she is an extremely fast learner-I was amazed. This girl was pages into the first grade book within 20 minutes. I was so stinkin proud of her!

Then a couple hours later, she joined in one of my English classes and dominated it. She was even helping explain to one of the other girls when she didn't understand. What!? Who is this girl and since when is she a super-student?

I don't know what happened today, but it was cool. God did something today, and I hope she saw it. And I hope He keeps doing it.

Sometimes when I think about these girls, I wonder if they know how deeply God cares about them. If they hear Him saying it and see Him showing it.

As I remember and continue to see the ways that God has loved me, I often get frustrated feeling like, "how do I show them? How do I tell them?" And it's cool that God walks with us and teaches us how to love, and teaches us how to let Him love through us. I'm so perplexed by that right now. And I'm just reminded that life is not about just coming to believe in God, but an eternity of knowing His love deeper and deeper, infinitely.

So even as I write that, it makes me change my perspective and prayer for these girls. Not just that they would know God-that He's real and cares for them deeply--but that they would know that more and more every single day and God would never stop showing them.     

This is her second night in the clinic, as her blood pressure was insanely low two days ago, and now the doctors are monitoring her platelet levels and pumping bag after bag of IV into her veins. Poor thing. I just want it to be over and to have our Steph back. Surprisingly, she seems like she's in good spirits-she's a trooper. I started taking pictures of her tonight to document this horrid week. I know that sounds weird, but I know this is going to be a memorable week and Steph will need some pictures for storytelling purposes and reminiscing. J

I've been there, but not there. My Dengue knocked me out and it was a hellish week, but I just laid in bed the whole time, weak as ever, and the worst of it was a day of awful nausea.

Meanwhile, as Steph is getting pricked left and right with needles, covered in band-aids with a steady diet of chicken soup and watermelon, I'm on the bed next to her steeped in THE HUNGER GAMES.

This book is so good. I can't put it down until my eyelids start drooping and my conscience tugs me back into reality...or Steph needs more watermelon. And then I look over...and Steph is resting, or fidgeting trying to get comfortable in her little bed. I read about Katniss and how she's trying to survive as she's out in the bare elements, and then I think about how Steph just needs to get through this week then it's back to normalcy after she recuperates.

Dengue is a weird thing. You have to lay low to keep your fever down, as you feel drained as it is, but nothing you do will make the whole thing go away. No meds, no rest, just time. It's kind of like a token to a miserable week...plus a few days to regain your strength afterward.

I think about Katniss and the thick skin she's growing from surviving in the wilderness, learning strategy as she goes. And the same with Steph as she battles dizziness, soreness and just plain feeling miserable. I know there's a battle going on in her right now to stay enthusiastic and fight this thing, even as she gets more restless and sore and things drag on. Not that I would wish Dengue on anyone, but I know firsthand that Dengue does something to you. Beyond the funny stories and laughing at how helpless you were...God uses this horrible sickness to do something cool. I don't know yet what that's gonna be for Steph, but I'm waiting to see.

I'm not done with the book yet, but I imagine even at this point, Katniss has some pretty good stories to share with her friends and family back home. Things that she takes pride in and cherishes as unforgettable. As does Steph. How about when the doctor came in tonight and asked her how many milliliters she peed today...what? We joked afterward about asking him the same question...who measures their pee!?

Steph may kill me for enjoying this week as much as I am inside, but I love the stories, the little thrills like that, and the opportunity to take care of my friend as she goes through this. (Not to mention, I'm making myself at home in her little room.) Steph is a Katniss...she's a fighter, even as she lays in a hospital bed. Haha, and if I may, I'd like to consider us friends her sponsors. J

(My apologies if you read this and have no idea what The Hunger Games is about. I'd encourage you to find out for yourself. It's surprisingly refreshing to get lost in a good book.)

So some of Tiffany's questions asked about what goals I have for the positions I am in at my workplace, and how "ministry" is incorporated into what I do there. Hmm...I had to think hard about what my specific goals are. Obviously because I'm teaching English, one of my goals is to get my students to enjoy learning English. To encourage them as learners and give them a jumpstart as learners. A simple goal, but I also have bigger goals that go beyond English and have to do with loving my girls holistically, being good friends to them, and wanting more for them...I couldn't articulate what this goal was.

Then the next night, my team discussed an article we had all read about God and justice-how He loves justice, calls us to do the same, and about the concept of SHALOM. Shalom is cool stuff. I always thought it just meant peace, but in fact it means "flourishing" and peace comes out of that flourishing. And the single purpose of God giving us shalom in our lives now is to give us a glimpse of true shalom in heaven, that we should anticipate that as we receive these little glimpses.

The article talked about shalom in four areas of our lives: in relation to God, in relation to ourselves, in relation to others, and in relation to nature and our surroundings. Injustice is when flourishing is blocked or not given a chance-not having opportunities to grow (this is my makeshift definition). For example, if I never have an opportunity to go to school or learn in any way, I am missing out in a way of getting to know myself through learning, learning teamwork and relating to others, etc. One could say that is an injustice for someone to not have an opportunity to go to school or have other learning opportunities.

Then it clicked for me why Tiff's question about my goal for my position at Daughters was so hard to articulate. It seems like there is this culture of "fighting for justice" (especially with the trendiness of "rescuing" those who have been trafficked and that's where their justice ends), but my definition of justice, specifically for the girls I am working with, has meant them being out of prostitution, them having "stability" and opportunities to seek who God is and know Him. But there is more! There is SHALOM. Giving them opportunities to grow and be, and remembering that God doesn't just save us and redeem one piece of us, who wants to give us "life and life to the fullest". I've always wondered what that meant...I think Jesus was talking about Shalom!

Shalom is different for everybody, which is a beautiful thing. I honestly don't know what shalom looks in my life personally, but I'm beyond grateful that God has given me (especially lately) giant slices of shalom in my life that reflect Him and His love for me.

So back to my issues with the word "missionary". I am a missionary (and so is every other believer!), but my hope of living up to that call/title/whatever is to bring shalom to people, in hopes that they'll catch a glimpse of God and the fullness of shalom to come. I hope shalom far outweighs the silly pressures and culture we've created around the title "missionary".

Such good stuff. Shalom to you today!

My team took a debrief to Phuket, Thailand two weeks ago. It was good times, hard conversations, practical teaching on leadership, laughs with teammates, ice cream, a few too many old ladies in bikinis on the beach, Thai tea, 7-11, long runs around the dam, looong bus rides...a lot of good stuff and memories I want to cherish.

I can't describe it, but in random thoughts and feelings I had this past month, just in weird little things, God has been preparing me for this news. Hearing news about my Tutu was so bittersweet. I can't even describe it. Feeling grief and joy and excitement for Tutu being in heaven and seeing GOD face to face, excitement that I'm going home to see my family, peace that this fear that has gripped me for so long I was now able to laugh at. I felt crazy. It felt rich. That's all I can describe it as.

I came back to Phnom Penh and just felt so overwhelmed. Planning my trip "home" to Hawaii, preparing to go, not feeling like going into Daughters at all, so many things on my mind and heart. Let alone feeling like Tutu's passing is so surreal. It's still surreal. I still don't believe it and don't want to.

I've felt pretty weird this week; like a blob of silly putty. It bounces around and such but it's lifeless and unaware of itself-subject to the hands that shape it. Yea, that's what I've felt like.

But in the midst of feeling like that, it seems like God has been adding some rich colors to my black and white world. My mind has been on my family and going home to see them. Not on skype, not in pictures...face to face. That's a gift that means more to me than it ever has before.

I keep having to take a step and appreciate the richness of this season of my life, of my team, of my family. God, thank you.

This morning my teammate Lauren and I went out to the market area to pray for the beggars. Just to walk around and see what opportunities would pop up for us to meet people since there are a lot of beggars in that area.

We had two contrasting encounters.

The first: Two women, both with toddlers. We small talked for a bit and then asked if we could pray for them. I asked them if they had any prayer requests and both of their responses were, "that Jesus would help me"...vague, but okay.

We prayed for these women and their families. Whenever I pray for someone lately, and even for myself, I've been reminded that it's not about the things I'm asking for, but that God's presence is with me and that person in that moment. That is sweeter than anything I can ask for. That's a beautiful thing; something I hope that these women encountered today.

After we prayed, the women were smiling. They seemed to be encouraged, but then there was this awkward "what happens now?" look between all four of us. We didn't buy them rice, we didn't give them any money. "God bless you, goodbye".

The second encounter: My friend Ming, "Yay" (Grandma), Sooan (Ming's daughter), Ming's nephew, and this other older lady that Lauren and I met on the way walking to the restaurant we ate at. We sat down at the table, ordered food and chit chatted (all the while mosquitoes are biting my legs off under the table).

Yay and the other older lady didn't really talk much. At one point I turned to the older lady and asked her if she knew Jesus, because Ming and I had just finished talking about going to church tomorrow. The lady said she didn't know Jesus, and then I proceeded to word vomit on her, somehow attempting to "explain" who Jesus is in under two minutes. Just the whole conversation felt like a smack in the face to me. I was reminded that this lady has literally NO context for Jesus and maybe overwhelming her with all these new ideas was me looking past her with an agenda, rather than to love her and be present with her. That was my conviction, at least.

Meanwhile, throughout our meal, beggar kids were standing at the door of the restaurant, waiting for us to buy them rice too. "We can't feed the village", I thought to myself. But I also thought about how Jesus always had enough to feed the people that came to him. Would the money in mine and Lauren's wallets have increased if we would have invited those people in to eat with us? Do I have enough faith to pray for that? Or is it not good to give free handouts and create dependency and encourage these beggar families to keep begging? This stuff stresses me out and seems so complicated.

Lauren and I paid the bill, said goodbyes to our friends and then walked back to the market together. We both felt weird about the two encounters we had. One was prayer without any tangible help, and the other was buying rice, and something about it felt weird to me even though we enjoyed spending time with those people.

I don't know. I feel like a baby disciple-learning, failing, and yet succeeding by showing up and being obedient (sometimes) to the nudges that God gives me. If Jesus had gone to the market today, what would his interactions with the beggars have been like?

These people have physical, emotional, and spiritual needs. They are poor in all of these things. I am rich. I want to share my wealth-God's wealth with them. Honestly, I really don't want to be the white girl that buys the beggars rice--that this is what they know me as. And I don't want to be the stingy white girl that comes and prays for people but overlooks their grumbling stomachs, sicknesses, and homelessness.

Woo! It's good to get my thoughts out. I'm grateful for the things God is challenging me (and Lauren) with and I'm grateful for the opportunities that He's giving us to encounter Him through all this stuff. That's where it's at--encountering Him.

I was thinking about it last week; if I wanted to set any resolutions for myself or not. I thought mostly how I want to become a better cook. You know, expand my Repertoire (yes, I just looked that word up on the dictionary to learn how to spell it) a bit because making meals for people is fun.

Then the other night I started writing a letter to my best friend Channele. I was going off on one of my usual rants, as I do in letters, about things I'm learning and being challenged by. Writing is crazy in that it sometimes feels like you are looking at yourself in a mirror once you begin writing your thoughts out. I love that.

As I shared with Channele my thoughts about God in the past year of my life and being here in Cambodia, I sat there and thought to myself, "God is crazy". I mean that in the most reverent way. Let me explain.

I have so many questions about life. SO many questions. About God. About missions. About poverty. About relationships. About culture. And the textbook answers that I've clinged to and searched for don't always pan out when I face the reality of these questions in my face.

I've cried here and there, I've wanted to take a bat to a window, and I've wanted to scream at the top of my lungs when I've been frustrated by these life questions and circumstances I don't understand. But instead most of the time I just come home and sit on my bed and say to God, "I don't get it!" And I walk around stressed out, angry and I feel so defeated I just wanna give up on trying.

As I was explaining some of this to Channele, I thought about how much time and energy I'm wasting because I'm seeking understanding to give me peace at the end of every day. And I'm seeking to understand God in order to enjoy Him and love Him. Like understanding life and God is a prerequisite for me to worship Him.

So as much as I'm against New Year's resolutions, I'm making it a goal for myself this year to spend time sitting in awe of how God is mysterious. The things that perplex me, make me angry, frustrate the heck out of me because I just don't get them...I'm gonna write those things down and just sit back and meditate on how God DOES get them. He's way beyond us, and the beauty in that is that He doesn't expect us to grasp it all like He does. Isn't that cool? I think He just wants us to marvel at His mystery rather than scrambling for understanding. I want to learn to appreciate His mystery and love Him regardless of life making sense or not!

Suesdai Chanam Ta-my! (Happy New Year!)

So I have a friend who is a beggar. I call her "Ming", which means Auntie in Khmer. Ming is how you address ladies who are around your mom's age. Anywho, Ming and I have been friends for a few months now and hang out occasionally. She's a homie.

My relationship with Ming has been really challenging, yet really cool. As I've gotten to know her and some of her family, my heart understands a little bit more about poverty and how rough  it is. I've been challenged in how to help Ming and her family. I've paid for meals, I've bought medicine and I've bought them rice. I'm not saying that to brag and say "look what I did", but more so I want you to understand the predicament my "helping" Ming has caused our relationship.

When I think about it, it seems like common sense to say yes when a beggar asks me to buy them food. Duh, I'll buy you rice. Here I am, it's 3pm I've already had two meals and a smoothie, but you have yet to eat ANYTHING today? Of course I'll buy you rice! I have pity on you. How can I say no?

I've said that to myself so many times as Ming has asked me to help her..."how can I say no?" My wallet won't be dented if I give her $5 or $10. It's really not a thing, so why not?

Embarrassingly, I admit that lately I've felt like Ming's suga mama. She's my friend and her family doesn't have rice to eat or medicine for their sick kid. How can I deny them basic survival when I am capable of helping? So I've helped her.

But what I've been learning is that though I don't see her as a beggar, I'm still treating her like one. And though saying no is hard and sometimes in my heart it doesn't make sense to deny her family help when I'm capable, I can't treat her like a beggar. I want to show her the dignity and value that God created her with. That she's not pitied; she's cared about.

When I was 15, that was the first time I cried out to Jesus and said, "rescue me from this". I was begging him for something. But I'm not a beggar anymore. I still ask him for a lot, but I love knowing him and worshiping him, and the "stuff" is just warm fuzzies.

In the Kingdom of God, Ming is but a mustard seed. I really believe she is. She sees herself as this insignificant and dependent thing, with no hope but to beg. But she's someone who God believes in. She's someone who He deeply cares for and longs for to know Him. She'll come to Him as a beggar, but she'll be transformed. He's into the business of watering and growing mustard seeds.  

I sat there across from Ming today, sipping on a coke, listening to her stories about her family. As I looked at her, I felt so much hope for her. I felt crazy because here she was telling me how upset and stressed she is about money, but I couldn't stop thinking of the ways that God is gonna overwhelm her life with hope. 

What shall we say the Kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest seed you plant in the ground. Yet when planted, it sprouts and grows to become the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds of the air can perch in its shade.   

--Jesus (Mark 4:30-32)

It feels like my mind and heart have been in a funk lately. My role at Daughters is changing a bit and I've felt kind of out of sorts. I've had days at Daughters  where I literally just sit there and scramble to find something to "do" because the girls in the kitchen are too busy and no one is free to study English. It's been challenging and stressful.

As I've been sitting in the café, or riding my bike back and forth from Daughters, or doing laundry, or whatever else in this past week, I've been stuck on the question, "what is the purpose of what I do every day?" Not in a cynical way, but really wanting to understand God's purposes in the things I'm invested in.

I don't have some sweet one-line conclusion to share, and I don't think it's just an answer I'm looking for-unfortunately, it's more so that I'm searching for a feeling that I am achieving something. I think it's been good for my eyes to be opened to that and to see how silly and futile it is to think that way.

The desire to achieve is so dangerous. It trumps out love! And I'm missing it if that's all I'm after. I am looking past the very people that I'm working with if it's just about me and achieving. That's selfishness.

Love doesn't always produce results. In fact, the very nature of love is that it has no expectation of anything in return. If the only thing I am to do in Cambodia or wherever I am is to love people, then I have to let go of achieving, of my worldly perspective of being "purposeful" and continue learning to love those around me as Jesus does.

The second I put a program or my English class or any task above the people I am doing these things for, that's when I'm losing sight of love, the very reason for which I do these things in the first place.

I have more peace today than I've had in a while because God has reminded of my simple purpose to love. That's how we encounter Him, and that's how we serve Him. Not to get stuck on doing, but to love and to love. That's His heart.

Since coming to Cambodia almost a year ago, I've started dreaming about starting an English school for girls affected by the sex trade, either currently in prostitution or already out. I've been teaching English at Daughters-just an hour a day-but it's been so rewarding to me and I'm realizing that I am a TEACHER. It's part of who I am and it's a passion that God has given me for a purpose beyond teaching English.

English is a tool that will bring a piece of freedom to these girls-by empowering them to be able to find decent work, but also the hard work they put into learning is healing and empowering in itself. I've seen it with my own eyes, and that's why I love it.

I believe God gave me this dream for an English school, that is, it's something that He wants me to pursue, but I'm tempted to deem it a fleeting thought and throw it on the backburner until...I don't know what. I feel guilty saying that, but that's really what I've done.

So I'm sitting here in a café writing down ideas about my English dreams. I've felt challenged to go back to what God said in giving me the dream, and the enthusiasm I felt when I started thinking about how cool it would be to open a school.

But every time I think about it or talk about it, a flood of thoughts come to mind...

I have a year left in Cambodia according to my two-year commitment that I made to AIM and the support I raised. I keep thinking about "well, I only have a year left". I don't "deserve" to be in Cambodia longer than two years. This is the time I have-then I have to go back and get an "American job".

I'm only 23 and have absolutely no training in teaching and very little experience. And honestly, I don't think I'm the greatest teacher-I just enjoy it and feel like I do a decent job.

I've thought to myself, "Okay this English school idea sounds really cool and all, but I'm not a dreamer and if it's not something that's spelled out for me, I probably won't do it".

But here's the thing...none of my thoughts have anything to do with God. Isn't He the God of the Universe who could MAKE me into a good English teacher? Couldn't He show me how to make my dream a reality if I asked Him to, because this really is HIS dream anyway? Why would He get me all excited about an English school just to send me home after two years? He doesn't just throw out ideas-He said His words never return void.

I think it's just ME who is snuffing out this dream. So I feel challenged to have faith and start nurturing it and praying into it. To start running with it until God says otherwise. I feel TOTALLY unworthy saying that-and kind of guilty pursuing something that seems impractical-this is so not me!

But God has given me a dream darn it, and today I'm gonna start following it.