Homeward Bound

A year ago, the planning began to set out on this adventure of a lifetime. I could have never predicted what my time in Cambodia was going to be like. Teaching 17+ ESL students and almost 30 high school math students have consumed my life for the last six months. It’s easy to look back on these last months and think the only thing I’ve learned is that I have no interest in being a teacher. The longer I think, and the deeper I look into my experience, I see that the lessons I have learned stretch much farther than my future career.

             I know I have yet to see some of the effects of my work here, and I know other results I will never see, but I’m keeping my eye on what I can see.

The first day of school, Amber and I greeted our girls with a warm “hello girls,” and Liza was quick to say, “I’m not girls, I’m girl.” Now Liza, only 10 years old, speaks more English than any of the other ESL students. I have taught nineteen 9^th graders Pre-Algebra and nine 10^th graders Algebra 1, a task that I never thought was possible. Above all, I have taught Buddhist students about Jesus and his unconditional love. Hearing my students talk about Jesus, heaven, prayer, etc. makes me as proud of a teacher as any.

            These last 6 months have been filled with highs and lows, and has challenged every ounce of my being. I have learned to eat tofu, bananas, and oatmeal nearly everyday; three foods that would have never been found in my diet at home. Amber and my small apartment has doubled as a dryer to hang all of our clothes, and a clay pot for filtering water has become our best friend. I have experienced hours of classes, constantly telling my kids to be quiet and sit down, and hours of classes where I could not be more proud to be their teacher. Through the triumphs and struggles, my relationship with God has been growing every step of the way. My trust in God led me to decide to become a SM over a year ago, led me to Cambodia 6 months ago, and now is leading me back to America.

            Cambodia has become my second home, a place that has etched a permanent place in my heart. The homeless kids on the street with their loud “heeeelllooooo” everyday, numerous drawings from the dorm girls, and the sound of laughter from my students will never be forgotten. I will never forget the time that I spent here, as a part of me will always remain here. God has shown himself here, and my prayer is that he will continue to do so even after I am gone.

            Six months ago, I remember telling people how scared I was to leave America. I never would’ve thought I would be scared to leave this second home of mine, but the familiar feeling I experienced back in August is back.  

We would never have made it this far without the support and prayers from everyone worldwide. Cambodia has been a daily reminder of how blessed I am. It’s now time, however, to end one chapter of my life, and begin writing a new one. My prayer is God will continue to guide me, just as he led me to Cambodia. I have learned lessons and grown in ways that I could have only done here, and for that, I am forever grateful. It’s now time to trust God’s calling that He has new lessons and plans for me elsewhere.

 As I did in my decision to come serve in Cambodia, I’m stepping out in faith. This time, however, I’m homeward bound.

Packing my Bags.

I piled my clothes in a corner of my room all summer long, throwing a modest t-shirt or teacher-esque skirt over every few days. I continued to let the pile grow until it began to topple over, but I still did not want to admit to myself that I would be leaving the comforts of my own home and my own COUNTRY for such a lengthy period of time. My pile grew and grew and grew until the evening before I boarded the plane to Cambodia when I absolutely had to shove my whole pile into my suitcases. I was able to stay in denial until the last possible moment I could.

My situation, now almost six months later, is quite opposite and yet still as I walk around my apartment in Phnom Penh, I think I feel similarly. I could have never imagined one hundredth of an idea of what Alex and I actually have experienced throughout our time here. I have been blessed in more ways than I can count, and at the same time the time these months have been near to the most difficult months of my life.  Through months of prayer, many tears, a lot of laughter, moto accidents, floods, a robbery, English tests, Tuk-Tuk rides, lots of tofu, and a knife wound, God has finally allowed me to come to terms with the fact that it is time to wrap things up in Cambodia.

I remember my thoughts walking into Cambodia Adventist School for the first time. First of all, I questioned what was wrong with my body and why I was constantly wiping sweat from my forehead at 6:45 in the morning. Secondly, I questioned why I ever thought coming to Cambodia was a good idea.

 I sat in the very back corner of the classroom as we had staff worship. As one of the teachers led out in song service, I used the singing as a time to muffle my sobs. I couldn’t hold anything back…I just sat there and cried like a little baby. I imagined the Khmers watching me and wondering what the heck was wrong with the new white girl. I could have been crying over the heat alone, but truthfully I was distraught solely from my own doubts. I have never doubted myself more in my life. I let my mind try to sort out the mess of thoughts that swirled around inside of my head but it was near impossible. I started throwing out words to God about how wrong I was to have ever thought of myself as capable of teaching real. live. children..in a foreign place with foreign people and foreign accents and foreign smells and foreign sounds and foreign feels.

“God, I quit” I said.
…….“Amber, I’m not allowing you to do that” is what I got back.

“God, no really…I’m inadequate for Your calling..”

……”Amber, I designed you for this. Everything I have let you experience in the past has built you up for this.”

“UGHLLKDLKJALJDFSJDFKJA GOD SERIOUSLY!” is what I wanted to say to that, but instead I went into bathroom and got some tissue.

The months from that moment until now have been so surreal to me. I can say with complete sincerity that God is responsible for carrying me this far. Some days go by and I feel like it is a miracle in itself that I am still standing after a day in my classroom, and other moments have been so close to perfection that I can see with clarity the ways that God is working here.

Two weeks ago, my students had no clue of heaven, but yesterday one of my little boys looked at me and said, “Tee-cha, even if you can not come back to Cambodia, I know that I will see you in heaven”. I made him shake my hand and promise that he meant it. God is working His way into these kids, and it’s a beautiful thing to watch. Knowing that Alex and I have been a part of  the process is one of the most amazing feelings in the world. However, at the same time I have to remember that there is only so much God designed for me to do here.

Here’s the big news: mainly for health and safety reasons, it is now my time to think about starting my pile and packing my bags over. Again, I get to feel like I did this past summer before leaving America: anxious, stressed, and in denial. Now, Cambodia has become my home. Cambodia holds so many memories of obstacles overcome, so many precious faces that will forever be burnt into a special place in my heart, so many moments of clarity with God. I would be lying if I said that I was not afraid to leave this place behind. As I look down at my now healing wound, I promise myself that I won’t. I just simply will not leave this place behind.

Cambodia will forever be a part of me. Cambodia has quite literally left its mark on me, right on my left thigh. I promise myself that when I look at my scar, instead of thinking of the pain that once was there, I will think of all of the beauty this place offered me. I will think of my sweet students, the ones who wanted me to stay forever. I will think of how selfless and giving some of these people have proved themselves to be. I will think of the way it felt to see my Buddhist student walk into church for the first time in her life, because she wanted to be like her teachers. I will remember how God helped me accomplish something that from day one, I never thought was possible. Then, after thinking about all of those things and more, I will pray.

 I will pray for Cambodia for the rest of my life, because this place has changed me. I will never be able to fully express how much this experience has meant to me, and I will never be able to fully express how much love I still want to give. Still, God’s sent His signs. I have to trust He has a different plan now.

With that said, America, I’m coming home. 

God Moments

Though most days seem like a constant uphill battle, there are moments that make the climb so much easier.

Last week, one of my students told me that he wanted to come to church. He is one of my students that moved out of ESL, into his homeroom, and his homeroom teacher thought it would help his English, as everything is translated between English and Khmer. His younger sister is one of my favorite girls in ESL and I told her that she should come along too. The conversation I was having with Liza sparked another one of my little girls attention and soon I had convinced them both to promise me they would come to church on Saturday.

All year long I have been trying to convince my ESL students to come to church. Out of the now 17 students, one is Adventist, one is Christian, and 15 are Buddhist. The one Adventist girl is the only one who comes to church every week; she lives in the dorm and attendance is required. Friday rolled around and I reminded the two girls, Liza and Boramey, that they had promised to come to church the next morning, even though I guessed neither one would show.

The next day as I was sitting in church, I looked out the door to see Liza and her brother Panha walking by the side doors of the church. Seeing her walk past, shyly smiling at me warmed my heart. For the first time in 6 months, one of our Buddhist students had come to church, something that I’ve been hoping for every Sabbath since I got here. Liza came and sat with Amber and I during church, and though she complained about the sermon being too long and that it was too hot, I could not have been happier.

Back at school, Liza told the whole class that she had gone to “cha’s church” over the weekend. Amber got up front and asked if anyone would pray. Today, instead of the normal “he will,” “she will,” and “I can’t teeecha,” six hands flew up, and they were being serious. In astonishment, I listened as my youngest boy proceeded to pray the most precious prayer, not in even Khmer, but in his very broken English. I could not wipe the smile off my face as one student after another prayed, all students that are Buddhist, and I far as I know, have never prayed out loud before.

I left them to have morality class with Amber and I went to teach Pre-Algebra. When I returned, Amber told the class to tell me what they had learned in morality. Fully expecting they didn’t understand enough of the lesson to remember anything, I was shocked as I watched a dozen hands shoot up. “Jesus went to his Father’s house and taught teacher instead of teacher teach him,” one boy said. “When you say sorry Jesus when bad, he erase what you did bad, and no more remember,” another said. For one of the first times I can think of, they remembered, and understood, what they had learned less than an hour before, and could tell me all about it, in ENGLISH! This might seem like the smallest of steps, but in my ESL class, this is huge.

There are days where I feel like I have made absolutely no progress with these kids, than there are moments like these, moments where I could not be more proud, that help me see the progress that they have been making these past months.

Students who, in August, didn’t know what a prayer request was and had just heard the name of Jesus for the very first time, are now telling me all about Bible stories they learned in class, praying out loud and are coming to church on Sabbath. 

What more can I ask for? God is working here, even if I can’t always see it.

-Alex

Let Me See Jesus.

God is multilingual.

This morning during bible class we had one of the largest discussions we have ever had as a classroom. When I say large, I mean large in relation to how far I can usually get through to my barely English-speaking students. Each morning we have worship and prayer, this morning was not out of the ordinary, except for the fact that one of my kids raised his hand beaming with curiosity. I was rather shocked at this sight alone. I typically feel like they could not care less and that they comprehend a whole 3% of what I actually say to them.

I called on my student. “Tee-Cha, what if I pray in Khmer? God no understand?” he asked. I looked around my classroom and all of the other students seemed just as interested in their classmate’s inquiry.  Still shocked I responded to him, “God knows ALL languages,” I said. “He always understands.” The kids eyes grew larger than I’ve ever seen them. They were just as shocked as I had been a couple minutes previous. “WHAT?! What about in Thailand, Tee-Cha, or Chineeeee, or Frennn, or Japaneee?!” they all shouted out. “Yes, He understands Thai, Chinese, French, and Japanese.” They were amazed. It was adorable.

Another student wanted to jump in on the conversation. “Well, what if I pray when my friend prays? Then God has to choose one of us to listen to?” he asked. I sometimes forget how little these kids know about God’s traits that seem so obvious to me. I have to remember that they were introduced to God only a couple of weeks before I even landed in Cambodia. “God is SO powerful, I know that understanding everything about Him is complicated, but He can listen to everyone at the same time!” I always swing my arms around and try to use charades and facial expressions to help my students understand ME a little better…but explaining God to them? It’s like explaining what the sun feels like to someone who has lost his or her sense of touch. You feel the sun. Trying to translate a feeling from English to Khmer is difficult even with every charade and action I can muster up. It really is borderline frustrating. I want them to understand. I am sure they can relate to my frustration, they want to understand too.

All of the sudden the questions began POURING in. “What if God is sleeping when I pray? He needs sleep too. Are all people in America Christians? Will Jesus give me a house if I ask for one? Will Jesus help me find my spelling book? What does Jesus think about the fact that I went to the pagoda on Sunday with my mother? Tee-Cha, have you seen Jesus before? Does He talk to you?"

Then my personal favorite came. One of my typically rambunctious, troublemaking, little boys raised his hand.  "Tee-Cha, can you let me see Jesus?” Usually this little boy makes me want to rip my hair out, but today he melted my heart.

WHERE HAVE THESE QUESTIONS BEEN FOR THE PAST FIVE AND A HALF MONTHS?!

I answered all of my students’ questions to the best of my own ability for almost the entire class period. They listened for a long time, but as to be expected they began to get off topic at the end. Before I dismissed them I wanted to be sure that I had done all that I could to help them understand. I quieted them down enough to ask if they had any more questions about Jesus. My best English speaker turned to me and chimed in, “Of course Cha, I have lots, but I don’t know how to say them in English.” Ugh.

Even though I so desperately want to be the one to answer their questions, I have to remember there’s only so much that I, myself, can give to them. Although the language barrier got in the way again this morning, for once I was able to feel satisfied with how much got through to them. For the first time in a long time I felt like my kids wanted to learn, and THAT? That was more than enough for today.

 I do have ever so much hope for these children.

-Amber