Our Cambodian Adventure

John and I just returned from two wonderful weeks in Cambodia with Hayden. One day from my journal captures the essence of the whole experience, I think. Write me at glomom@aristotle.net if you'd like to suffer through the whole account.

Sunday, May 18:
We were up early again, expecting Vonnie, Hayden’s old roommate to pick us up at 7. It was more like 7:45 after having picked up a niece and nephew (or cousins?) spending the day with him. We headed off to his village for church (Baptist), not too far out of town. We were a little late, but they graciously brought us chairs and water. At the end, they brought out some cookies for the congregation. Hayden said snacks were traditional and he added some bananas and other unidentifiable fruit to the table which was quickly snapped up.

Someone announced that those involved in the movie to be made (teaching Cambodian to tell Bible stories, effective in a Buddhist culture) should come to Vonnie’s house so when we got there in Vonnie’s brother’s borrowed Toyota, there was already a crowd. We had to wait a while until Tharit (Samuel) and David showed up. I pulled out some Kissable candies and put them on the table and they looked at them rather warily and a few disappeared. They said our food was too strange for them. Vonnie’s father was sitting at the table reading Hayden’s Cambodian Bible and later set the candies on the Bible and carried them into the house. Tired of waiting, the guys put on the costumes and they went ahead with the scene where Samuel chooses David out of a lineup of brothers.

More cell phone conversations, more confusion as to where to meet Tharit. So in the time we drove back up to the church to meet Tharit, he had arrived with his church van (rented from the church rather than a company so they could receive the $60 rental instead) and picked up all the guys (not the plan, but who wants to tell them they can’t come now? Not Hayden). By this time, it’s getting close to lunch, so both loaded cars head up the road. This mission requires sheep, almost non-existent in Cambodia but Tharit had managed to locate some dark rough-looking ones that—for the world—looked like they belonged in David’s world. The decision is made to stop for lunch, as it’s still an hour’s drive away to the sheep. The restaurant is a big open-air affair with large tables that everyone sits around on cross-legged. Hayden orders 4 dishes for the group, but the waiters see a chance to increase the income from this large group and brings out 13 dishes. Tharit and Hayden go and complain but the damage is done and the movie budget for the day has been increased substantially. I couldn’t eat anything but the rice, but these young guys seemed to think this soup with bugs in it (really!) was great.

Without any thank-you’s for the budget-breaker lunch, we loaded up again, and eventually pulled off the roadside at a non-descript little spot where they spilled out again and ran down to the muddy flowing river. We waited for a boat to cross and ferry us back to the island, inhabited mostly by widows. We noticed the boat was taking in water and were relieved to get to the island where everyone disembarked. In the typical unorganized Cambodian way, the scene was shot and the sheep cooperated beautifully. Afterwards, Tharit told us this had been a killing field and took us across the field to look in a shed where he said the bones had been gathered but someone had buried them. No one, obviously, had baled water out of the boat, so still taking it in, we arrived at the other side and, paid up, Tharit returned the vanload of boys back to the village. We were becoming hopeful that we would be returned ourselves.

Vonnie, though, thought it seemed normal for Hayden and his parents to participate in the customary Sunday afternoon visiting of each other’s houses. Vehicles used to haul things during the week were loaded today with people riding around from place to place. We stopped at a relative’s house, thinking it was where the niece and nephew lived, but they got out and played while we sat on the table in front of their house, not talking, just drinking the water they had offered us. We walked down to the river behind their house then Hayden suggested it was time to move on. One more stop was in order and this time it was where the children lived, but we still accepted another bottle of water and visited best we could. Hayden ran back over to the office and returned with spicy tuna and bread and we all collapsed. I told John while we were sitting at Vonnie’s that I felt like I might as well be in outer space, the whole thing was so surreal and I think we will always refer to Sunday as our alien adventure.

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream...

According to that great American poetry, we all scream for ice cream! This weekend, we had a staff retreat at Silver Dollar City, ate at Fuddrucker's across the street from the hotel, and then mosied over to Cold Stone Creamery afterwards on the other side of the parking lot. At CSC, if you want just a taste, order the "Like It". If that doesn't seem adequate, order "Love It". But if you want the mother lode of that frozen delight, go for the "Gotta Have It"! If life is an ice cream parlor, why do I always order "Like It"? Provider of All Life's Delights, increase my appetite for all you have, mixed with all the add in's. I want to feel like I "gotta have it".

Connoisseurs

Since we have moved to Fayetteville, we are amazed at how the junk mail producers have found us up here. In today's mail, John received a free year reservation card from a magazine called Robb Report, subtitled "for the luxury lifestyle" for a mere $65, $153 off the newstand price. This is very interesting, considering we are doing anything but pursuing a "luxury lifestyle" up here at the USCWM. Better check that target market, Robb.

It clearly states "It's a state of mind. A way of life. An attitude. It's nothing but the best." The little enclosure for hesitant recipients--they all have these, I know; I was a marketing major--says "Why you?" They think John is "someone with sophistication, style, and a self-assured sense of the finer things in life" (meaning yachts, Chateau Haut-Brion 2002, Matasa cigars, Patek Philippe Swiss watches, Lamborghini's $1.5 million Super Coupe,...). They think John is "a connoisseur of life's rewards". That one hit me--if they only knew what a connoisseur he is, well versed on the glories yet to be revealed. He knows exactly where life's rewards are and I'm guessing they're not found in the pages of Robb Report.

Clouds, smartwater, and other pure thoughts

I'm not really sure why certain shapes appeal to your sense of design more than others, but the Glaceau smartwater bottles are irresistable to this normally sales-resistant Scotch soul of mine. Coming back from a recent trip, I made my purchase at the Shell station and was dreamily watching the billowy clouds out the window in the passenger seat as we slid down I40 (sheer contentment!) and casually read the copy on the back: "Is it just us or do clouds get a bad rap? while we admit they're not as great to have around on a beach day, as say, the sun, clouds are unsung heroes because they contain nature's purest source of water...".

My mind drifted to Joni Mitchell's song, "I've looked at clouds from both sides now..." then to riding in the window seat of an airliner, dreaming about walking on the clouds, thinking how God looks down on the earth... I'm back home on a dreary rainy day, and when I got ready to write about this, I looked up the lyrics for that song--what a depressing song!

"Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the airAnd feather canyons everywhere, i've looked at cloud that way.But now they only block the sun, they rain and snow on everyone.So many things i would have done but clouds got in my way...."

"Moons and junes and ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feelAs every fairy tale comes real; i've looked at love that way.But now it's just another show. you leave 'em laughing when you goAnd if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away."

"Tears and fears and feeling proud to say "i love you" right out loud,Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, i've looked at life that way.But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads, they sayI've changed.Something's lost but something's gained in living every day."

Joni, I wish I could sit down with you and give you a better perspective. There is much to be gained in living every day, knowing that the reality is the sun that is always there, regardless of the clouds we see. Enjoy the "angel hair and feather canyons"! Walking by faith and not by sight gives us "x-ray vision" to see beyond and REALLY KNOW the One who spoke it all into existence, the One who is preparing a place for us--all paradise, no clouds.

PHD in Passion and Vision

I read in the morning meeting notes from Pasadena that yesterday was the 40th anniversary of the death of Martin Luther King. That brought a marker to the forefront of my mind of the day I heard about this. It's one of those dates that remind you exactly where you were at the time; for me, it was a night in Room 408 of Hotz Hall at the University of Arkansas, reading an English assignment, In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. Those were dark days of campus unrest and pessimism, largely due to the Vietnam War and a groundswell of cultural decline. I had wanted to major in art, but my family insisted that I go the business route so my upbringing and my personality allowed me to produce excellent grades as a Marketing major and acquire a BSBA but not with a lot of heart. In fact, there's not much from my college academic education that prepared me for anything I have done in my life--at least, so far. Furthermore, all of our lives and our daily education has been tainted by the likes of Ophah--not good--see http://youtube.com/watch?v=JW4LLwkgmqA.

USCWM. FMF. PSP. PCW. Everything has letters in our office. There is a move afoot to train new class coordinators in a greatly improved way (PCW)--not just how to fill out forms and conduct the class but to do all these things with passion and vision. I caught myself yesterday with my elbow on my desk and my chin in my hand, staring beyond the notes on my computer screen, thinking how every avenue of our education, unlike my college experience, should teach you how to walk through the motions but always with the ultimate goal of passion and vision.

One of the major things every good Perspectives student takes away is that the Great Commission of Jesus in Matthew 28 really means, "As you go, make disciples, teaching them identification with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and to do what He says--no matter how hard it looks or how strange. He says, "I will hold your hand through it all. You'll be really glad you did because we're the only Ones who will be around until the end of the age." Well, that's my paraphrase anyway. I feel like I've been in the under-achiever's track in my Great Commission class over many of my years, not headed for any degree really. By God's grace, though, He has put a desire in my heart for that PHD. And why does anyone want a PHD? They want to teach!

Ruined for the Ordinary: Personal Reflection

I am ruined for the ordinary. It happened after taking Perspectives on the World Christian Movement. In fact, so many of us have been ruined that, I--who now work for Perspectives, am editor of a newsletter that goes to Class Coordinators and Instructors called...yes, "Ruined for the Ordinary".

So what did "ordinary" look like for us? Going to church every Sunday, raising kids that would hopefully do the same for the rest of their days while meeting their need in every possible way to join in team sports, get the best education, be as comfortable as possible and enjoy all the American lifestyle has to offer, AND know how to get along with everyone in their world without carrying any emotional baggage into their adult lives so they could raise their children in the same way.

So what happened? Unbeknownst to us, God had had us on a collision course with the ordinary for some time. It was innocent enough--commit to read a big textbook and listen to 15 different people talk about their exotic experiences in places like tribal Indonesia and post-Christian Amsterdam. Somehow, the Spirit of God whispered to us, "Comfort and clean living put you at the starting block; now run the race!" After the first five weeks of hearing the Story of His Glory, all that has run through our minds is SIGN UP AND START RUNNING. And, by the way, prepare for a marathon, not a sprint.

So how are you doing? Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, like last night, and--I admit it--the ordinary still sounds really good. I don't know if it was going to our staff friends' daughter's soccer game and coming home feeling nostalgic about the days when our lives were busy with family activities. Thought balloons: They are ruined too, but they still have their family. I have boys and they don't keep up too well. It sure would be easy to go back to Little Rock where we had roots. I just let those thoughts roost a little too long. It's not Mile 21 where I've hit the wall. It's much more like where you slow down a little to grab the Gatorade being offered to you from the sidelines, to regroup and refresh, and to get your mind back in the game.

That's not ordinary. That's extraordinary. That's what I'm ruined for--the rush of spiritual adrenalin that comes to you in the low points and reminds you to run like the wind--a long obedience in the same direction, as Eugene Peterson calls it. I press on through sleepless nights for the upward call of Christ Jesus knowing there's a finish line. From the other side of the line, ordinary doesn't look like a very good option.

Hayden's World

Well, we did it. We have been saving our credit card miles for years now, and finally reached the point where we can cash them in for American Airlines tickets. They will only take us as far as Bangkok, but I'm sure we can find some interesting mode of transportation to Phnom Penh.