A Farewell (of sorts)

Have you ever read the dedication page in Steinbeck’s East of Eden?

Dear Pat,
You came upon me carving some kind of little figure out of wood and you said, “Why don’t you make something for me?”
I asked you what you wanted, and you said, “A box.”
“What for?”
“To put things in.”
“What kind of things?”
“Whatever you have,” you said.
Well, here’s your box. Nearly everything I have is in it, and it is not full. Pain and excitement are in it, and feeling good or bad and evil thoughts and good thoughts- the pleasure of design and some despair and the indescribable joy of creation.
And on top of these are all the gratitude and love I have for you.
And still the box is not full.

JOHN

Somehow, this is a bit how the last two years have felt for me. A box of any and everything you can imagine, and full of all I had to give, yet I still have some space to give more.

Since I have cried all the tears in the world over the last week, my emotions are a bit tapped. So, I am sitting around with a bit of a numb heart. Which I think is ok for right now. But writing is how I make sense of the world, so at this moment, I will write.

On my way to Bangkok today (I’m having a two day rest period before heading home) I flew a budget Asian airline that shall not be named. Any of you who know me, know I hate flying. Ask my parents about my trip to DC in sixth grade with my grandparents. Was sobbing like a maniac BEFORE WE LEFT THE GATE. Oi. Anyway, the whole (ok, it was only an hour) flight was a bumpy, turbulent mess in my eyes. And then as soon as the captain announced that we were descending to land (thank you, Jesus) we dipped down, and then all of the sudden ascended which felt very high, and very fast. And I freaked out. Honestly was debating asking the kind Australian man next to me to hold my hand just to calm me down a bit (don’t worry, I decided that was too weird of a thing to request of a stranger). We landed and everything was fine and I remembered all over again how much I love being on the ground.

So after checking into my hotel, taking a coma of a nap, and getting all prune-like from a hot bath (hot water, guys!) I sat by the window, turned on worship music and let my mind and soul both wander and be stationary.

Two years ago, I drove my little white sedan out of Phoenix with stars in my eyes and high hopes that I would be making a huge difference, if not change the world. Quickly after I stepped off the plane in Phnom Penh, I was pretty sure I made a huge mistake. But my first friend took me out that night to a restaurant/bar that overlooks the whole city and I remember a small whisper saying to my heart “it is going to be ok.”

These two years looked so much different than I anticipated. Coming over to work in anti-trafficking (which I did, but in a more indirect way) and then having my heart swept away by tiny, scruffy little humans who only wanted to cuddle, draw, occasionally color on the wall, and watch YouTube videos.  Which, if you read HERE it is interesting how full circle my love for street kids has become.

Two years later, my heart is swollen with love and brokenness and failures and victories and love.  I am realizing how little I did, though. I didn’t save the world- ha! Not even close. But I gave what I had, and I believe God used it. Sometimes just showing up is enough, and that I mostly know how to do. More than any time in my life, there are more questions than I have the answers to, and I have learned that is ok and healthy and good.

I have learned that if I just show up with a willing heart, God will do the heavy lifting. I have learned that I actually know nothing, and am finding huge amounts of comfort in that lesson. I have learned that I the locals know way more than I do (which should have been a given, but when I showed up, my opinion of myself and what I knew was very high). I have learned that different cultures are incredibly beautiful, can be frustrating at times, but that love runs free even with all the differences and language barriers. I have always known in my head, but it is now solidified in my heart that no one is beyond redemption. And finally, I take comfort in knowing that God sees all.

While these years weren’t perfect, they were the most beautiful years of my life thus far. With deep love, admiration, and respect for the people I met along the way, it has been my absolute honor to be beside you. And to all those who knew me before I left, thank you for your constant faithfulness. Thank you everyone for journeying with me.

How wonderful a gift that my heart will forever have a home in Cambodia.