My Comforts Hijacked with Humility

Tim did his best to prepare me for what I would experience here on the ground. I've seen his past trip pictures and knew it would be no Lynden with fresh manicured lawns, pristine yards, clean streets and cloroxed homes. He prepared me well. Here's my best to describe in a "few short words" what I was introduced to this past week...

As we near the end of our time here in Cambodia, I've only had my stomach in my throat just a small handful of times. A pause in air movement passing a fermenting pile of trash alongside the road caused a quick moment of immediate mouth breathing to avoid the smell from being burned into my nostrils. A turn in the Russian Market leading us through the "fresh" produce and meats made me rush to provide deodorizing oils to prevent the urge to vomit in the skinny walkways between booths of foods and goods. The warmer it gets, the more pleasant the transforming trash becomes.


{The entire pig, dragon fruit, silks, shoes and fresh meat. }

And let's talk about trash.
There is a garbage system, but I'm convinced it's one that runs on a When-I-Feel-Like-It business mentality. Bags upon bags of sealed tight garage, most of which that is not contained, scatters the streets with everything not in use. Many will come along in a tuk tuk and pick up items that could have potential recycling purposes. When the garbage trucks do come by the people toss the trash on a corner where men pitch fork the bags into a truck to a disclosed area.
Old water bottles and glass coke bottles become the new container to sell gasoline in along with plastic bags that are used and can be found hanging from the scooter handle bars. Discarded cement, metal, plastics and perishables have become part of the landscape here in the city and outside villages. It becomes part of their homes, provides places of rest for those in need of a seat and creates cushion for some to walk on. The ironic thing to me is when it rains or at the end of a day, you'll pass a home where a woman is sweeping her small claimed piece of cement in front of the family store, with a bristle broom clearing it from dirt and excess water. At most a four foot long entrance to their home that is kept clean with pride for what is rightly theirs.


The road system is respectful, out of control and completely undocumented. There is an unsaid rule about merging and allowing cross traffic to not get smothered by multiple cars, scooters, moto's and large trucks as all four directions best said, go at once. I'm not quite sure you could possibly teach drivers ed here because the one rule is to always assume they don't see you or will stop. Seattle traffic at rush hour is a breeze compared to the mayhem that manages on the dirt, gravel, sometimes paved, pot-hole riddled roads. Some pot holes as deep as a foot and almost the width of the street. The side street New Life Church is located on, had a special birthday or wedding happening on it. We knew this because they popped up a tent on one side of the road.
Yep, in the road. Crazy, but quite common.


These people are extremely talented balancer's as well. Moto's with 20 mattresses tall will maneuver through the roads. Scooters with a family of five cruising through town. One family had the dad, helmet on as only the driver is required to wear one, driving with a large plastic bag in front of him, his sleeping young son leaning against the bale of a bag with his tongue hanging out taking a peaceful snooze. Behind dad was his daughter snug between him and mom who had her hands full of goods too. How anyone could find a moment to have sweet dreams baffles me?!! This little guy managed quite well. It's also common to see people holding an IV bag up high with the needle still inserted into a vein. Medical attention taking the drive-thru approach. 


We saw many motors with live chickens hanging upside down tied to the handle bars or animals across the back ready to be brought to the market. Cows crossing the street, goats grazing through the rancid piles of trash and last night as I was leaving a home, rats scampering across driveways from pile to pile. What you often see next to a rusted out bike or tuk tuk is a Range Rover or Mercedes. The blend between the lowest of lows and wealthiest of wealth is strangely beautiful. It works. There is such respect in this community even with the diverse gap between the rich and the poor. The difference back home is we don't mix the two and shun the opposite we live in. 

If you're familiar with Cambodian culture, then you would know how significant the killing fields are in the placement of history. 343 killing fields to be exact in the country of Cambodia. We visited one and that was enough. Some still have not been visited as they are protected with land mines to prevent the disgusting truths buried underground to be found. Even the narrator in my head phones had a sobering voice as we walked through the grounds. The place of the killing fields was morbid, dark and very real as the rain had unearthed some of the rags and bones of those executed by the regime. At the end of the tour you could watch a video, but I had seen enough at that point and chose not too. I was done. The fact that anger and resentment doesn't rule over this land is a miracle in itself. We later visited the prison inside the city walking through cells and torture chambers of those captured before the guards sent them out to the killing fields. Unbelievable history. 

 { This is one of the last of two survivors from the prison. }
 { Rags and bones uncovered from the recent rain. }

Recently our power went out for close to 24 hours. There was an urgent need to clear the fridge of perishables that had potentially gone sour due to appliances not keeping them cool. Here, the power goes out regularly and in the summer it's on a scheduled outage to keep all the air cons and fans running fairly from neighborhood to neighborhood. Eggs sit in the hot sun, meat hangs in the heat. The wires resemble something of a matted rats nest after not combing ones hair for a week. Yesterday, I saw a guy fixing a wire as he stood on the top of a ladder leaning against the clump of wires between poles. We were told of one guy who was electrocuted by these wires and his buddies thought best to toss him in a puddle of water to help him.
There is a vast gap between an educated decision and that in which is made. Most fires begin with electrical shortages from not having large enough wires for the wattage running through the lines. And let's mention fires. If your house goes up in flames there is a fire department, but in order for them to take action, you have to pay them what you feel your place is worth before a trickle of water is sprayed. If the house is worth less then what it cost to put it out then you let it go up in flames. I'm not sure my brother would be able to implement this procedure at his station back home.

 { Visiting the Village Church/School & handing out suckers while dodging cows. }


 { High fives and 4th/5th grade classrooms. }

In all the community that I've seen here, authentic joy radiates through the rush of life: the kids, the smiles and colors of life. There are pages of a story being told in the eyes of child here. There is no such thing as a bland backdrop to life lived in the city. There is hope in the villages as schools are being built and having church on Sunday. ( Thank you Koi & Reny for sharing this hope with me.) There is new life offered as programs are building the young generation up to be successful and empowered through Christ. There is contentment beyond my comprehension as what they know is all they've had. I have grown immensely seeing the many smiles on faces young and old, having the kindness offered and hearing how a little help has opened windows of opportunity. I left in tears as I was the one richly blessed this week. A little confused leaving as I truly do wish I could stay longer.
Flying out in the daytime, I was able to get a glimpse of the land from up above. What felt like we covered miles of city was just a small footprint of ground.
I was left with this thought:
We covered no more ground then that of which takes claim to a Lynden zip code. The life that is lived, abused, taken advantage of, tossed by the wayside and discarded is too much for most of us to grasp. But, I was given a little insight too witnessing life fully lived, completely dependent, appreciated and craving more of the beauty of life with Jesus as King. Those we met this past week, I am confident will be the catalyst that starts a wave of change in the hearts of many. It's impossible to miss the radiant passion for Jesus that grows deep within and by no means can be contained.
For those who prayed for us during our time away...thank you.

{ Spent an evening with the Single Women's group from church. }
{ Pastor Sophea & his wife Jenny, Hans Molegraaf & the Broersma's. }



His Daughter's Heart

{ If this touches anyone great. This post is me processing so it's written for me more than any guilt trip, feelings of sadness or depression that it may cause. You can also read more about this in a previous post here. }

Torture.
Torment.
Slavery.
A broken culture.
A daughter in need of rescue.

I knew what we were going to tour and the things we'd see, but nothing, absolutely nothing, quite prepares your heart for when you stand in the place such putrid acts were once performed in Svay Pak, Cambodia.
Nothing can guard your heart knowing a little girl; a mother's daughter, died on the wood slated bed in front of you from the slavery she was a prisoner to; tired, weak, hungry and alone.
Across the street another ex-brothel stands with the owners now selling food goods as their previous operation was shut down. 
A community known to once be the most notorious epicenter of child-sex trafficking now slowly being redeemed and reclaimed by grace. God's mercy's are being made known through people like Chad, who willingly gave us a tour of AIM

Our tour began in the first building where a church sits on the second story and a medical clinic operates below with volunteers giving out medicine and advice. The room through the gated doorway was packed with young and old seeking medical attention. The street outside strewn with trash, much like everywhere else in Cambodia. Dogs roam and try to smell your feet as well as chickens that will soon be dinner for some. Moto's line the street as the quickest means to travel, kids joyfully playing badminton in the dirt, some with shoes most without, and families of old sitting waiting for someone to buy a used bottle of gasoline, soda or fresh picked fruit to supply funds to feed their families. From a distance I hear an unpleasant cry.
The adjacent building is one that provides hope to kids where needs are not being met at home. It is the AIM Foster Home; a once operated brothel. Three little ones sat on the floor playing with the Foster Mom as she tried to calm one and the others beaming with smiles as we entered. The power had gone out earlier in the day so just the front room was lit as daylight filled the tile floor. Chad then walked us into the sleeping quarters where all the beds have been occupied with foster kids. There is no government paperwork that begins the moment the kids are dropped off. There is no government assistance or tracking for these kids. All the bunk beds were neatly made with bright colored sheets and linens. A painting of Jesus was largely displayed on the one cinder block wall. Look closely and you can see where walls once stood creating multiple private rooms where girls were sold to men; locals and foreigners. 
It is a known location. 
A single room has been left in remembrance to a chosen daughter who was left hungry, tired and her child-like, worn out body laid exhausted from the daily needs of sex-driven men. I did my best to hold myself together, but honestly, I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry out to God asking why. 
The back door had been cemented shut so there was no option of escaping for these girls trapped in hell. 
Upstairs is known as the Pink Room. This is where the virgins would be held and sold off at a high price. It was then I choked back more tears as all that went through my mind were our two precious, innocent daughters at home, who trust completely in us protecting them from all harm. Here the sparkle of a child is stolen as the parents, the ones held responsible for their child's life, are the one's placing them directly in harms way only to pay off a debt or make a little money. My heart shattered.
Down the street is where we met Matt who is in charge of the sewing factory. Again, with no power it was a quiet room with stilled sewing machines waiting to make their daily production goals and wages. There is beauty in what AIM has done taking over buildings and creating jobs for the locals. The women who work here are mostly not survivors to sex trafficking, but have connections to siblings or families that have been sold to pimps. Matt has provided security within these jobs and also a platform to share Christ to those that enter. A devotion time has been set aside and mentoring is provided. Matt's wife Sarah, operates the Foster Home. 
Across the street is my favorite as a gym has been set up to engage the young men in a tangible way to create relationships within the community. Tires, boxing gloves and traditional fighting is being taught here, but more than that, Christ is being shown to men who otherwise would never have had the chance of knowing a forgiving God.
Around the corner sits another ex-brothel turned place of employment. This building has all rescued women sitting behind the sewing machines. When we walked through, the day was done and all the girls were upstairs in their English class as the organization provides multiple ways to keep the girls involved and not forced to go back to being sold. The primary goal is to protect the girls, integrate them back into the community and teach them how to properly care for their bodies. 

I'm not sure I could have seen more. My eyes were stinging from the pain and anguish behind such amazing improvements to a war-torn community such as this one. There is good that is flourishing from such evil. The devil is struggling to take foot, but there is still immense work to be done.
Our tour was done, we said our goodbye's to Chad and we took our seats in the Tuk Tuk provided to get us back to our hotel. I had no words to share with Tim. I didn't know how to process what I heard and saw. I felt confused as to how any help would make a little difference. These volunteers packed up and have been living in these conditions for two to four years most with scars from locals stealing and accidents on the pot-holed dirt roads. A sacrifice I'm not sure I'd be able to fulfill if asked to go.

That night we met with the ground organizers, Pete and Debbie Livingston. What a joy to end a dark afternoon with the news they brought to the table that evening. 
21 girls, ages 6-17, rescued just that morning; the potential of a higher number in the end being close to 100.
God is still good...
But...

I struggle knowing we serve a righteous and just God when many are still slaves to such horrific acts against them. I struggle knowing that on our way back we passed many KTV's (karaoke bars known to sell girls) and locals just pass by like it's another Starbucks on the street corner. I struggle to understand a culture that accepts these practices and doesn't want better for their people. I struggle to understand a male having no guilt in forcing himself upon a child. 

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners."  Isaiah 61:1

I may not be able to do anything making a significant difference in the war over sex trafficking. I may not be able to pack up and move to hard areas such as all those working at AIM. I may not ever understand a culture that allows such torture to be done to their precious little ones. 

I can pray. I can proclaim the truth through word and prayer that God will have His justice when the time is right. I can pray that more of these unprecedented raids will expose the faults of those benefiting from the actions of greedy men. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."
And what gives my heart a little ease, a peace knowing those on ground here in Cambodia, are sharing what many have never known...
"And he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them."
Mark 10:14-16

I will come home changed. I will come home with a different view and knowledge of something I never fully understood or maybe wanted to understand. A new need to protect what is commanded to be innocent until marriage will be guarded with my entire life.  I will pray that someday, these little girls, not much older than our youngest, will someday know what it is to be loved, known and worth the protection of their Heavenly Father. To be loved without fear.

{ Chad Smith, our tour guide, in front of the medical clinic. }

{ The tan building, second on the left, ex-brothel now place of employment, provides funds for the ministry by creating screen prints and T-shirts to be sold internationally. Yes, that's sweat. It was very hot. }

Cambodia Through My Eyes

The balance between leaving the kids and excitement of what's to come was quite hard for me this week. All the school binders were properly labeled, organized and campus teachers were informed of Nana and Papa being in charge of our precious babies. A few loads were made with bikes, pillows, favorites and clothes. Lists were typed out and special gifts were carefully planned to give the kids something to look forward too in Mommy and Daddy's ten days of absence. The drop off was made and the tears flowed. Oh bother. Myriam couldn't have made it much worse with her multiple run-backs of kisses and tight squeezes. 
God has blessed Tim and I with willing parents to take on all three kids. Still never easy for a mama to say goodbye.
The first task was to fly to LA and then, thirteen hours later, land in Shanghai with a day lay over. I have never been spoiled as much as I was on this long flight. From food to personal slippers and a lay down bed with pillows...
it was not torture. 
Tim and I had one day to tour as many sites as possible in Shanghai and we did just that. Tim's hand circulation was a bit restricted as we taxied our way to downtown and I quickly learned we were far from the quaint driving down Front Street back home. This was no 25mph folks. 
Ironically, the taxi driver dropped us off right in front of Starbucks...go figure. Much like home, they too are everywhere in China. With coffee in hand we visited People's Square where we immediately were immersed into culture. I'm extremely grateful for the many squats and workouts I do in order to provide me with sturdy thighs while squatting over a hole in the ground. 
The one thing that stood out most about this was the endless amounts of umbrellas with sheets of paper attached. Little did we know what was happening until we dug a little deeper and found out what was REALLY happening. The trusty Internet said this about the display of umbrellas: 

"It has been described as "match.com meets farmers' market" with a low success rate. In many parents' eyes, parent matchmaking gatherings such as the Shanghai Marriage Market are the only way to uphold a traditional dating style for their children in modern China. The parents walk around chatting with other parents to see if there is a harmonious fit only after their children's standards are met.The marriage market at People's Square has existed since 2004.  As of April, 2013, it costs approximately $3.20 USD for an advertisement that is displayed for five months, and marriage brokers provide full access to phone numbers for a $16.00 registration fee."

 { People's Square...a.k.a. Marriage Market }

{ Open dental office in People's Square. Hundreds were lined up for work. }

Our next many steps were to visit The Bund which is much like walking the Seattle boardwalk. Huge freight liners and loaded cargo barges were busy up and down the river. Thousands of people walking about and our little greeter of a mom exposing her son, legs held back peeing in the bushes. Squatty pants are the main deal here for infants and I'm thinking potty training Myriam may have been easier if I had some of these hot pants. The smoggy views were stunning of one side business and the other old with historic architecture. Once we walked the river wall, we crossed over to Old Shanghai. We were even offered to have tea with a local who spoke great English and was giddy to meet us. With little time we had to pass. 

{ The Bund water view. }

Old Shanghai was by far my favorite place of the day. If eyes and faces could tell I story, then we read many books yesterday. The alley's were laced with clothes drying above and wires that looked more like a mental teaser game then functional electricity. Family homes were also store fronts. Hair salons squeezed in tight between apartments. Food carts parked along the crowded streets offering fresh fruits to meat on a stick. There was bamboo walking trails and places to fish for baby koi. Then we walked into the old temple market where I was certain Karate Kid was going to sneak around the corner and bust out a move. From the colors of items sold and on the buildings to the faces, it was eye candy for our sight. We chuckled thinking about the reaction our toe-head blondie would have in a see of dark hair families such as the ones we walked through in this area. 


{ This is no crusty, boxed fish sticks. }

Now, you need to understand that I grew up on boxed fish and have issues with worm-like textures of certain foods. So, you can imagine Tim's surprise when I suggested Sushi for lunch and put the barriers down to try Sashimi along with other colorful, delicious rolls. For the little time we had, I feel like we experienced China's best on a plate. After another jaunt to what looked like the Beverly Hills of Shanghai, passing about ten bride-to-be's (apparently Sunday is the day to get married), we caught a taxi back to the hotel and boarded our final leg to Phnon Pehn
And now we sit, breakfast buffet consumed and ready to tackle our first day on ground. We are so grateful that God first, got us here safely and secondly, have had communication with our kids. The skies are dark with loaded rain about to fall and the forecast looks stormy. We do have a motorcycle, but if this continues I may just experience my first Tuk Tuk ride. Either way, the circulation may be restricted some more.
Let the journey begin...

Back to School x Three


I would like to think that I could have a hot shower without interruptions, enjoy a quiet cup of coffee and keep the house clean for a few hours before the kids come home from school...Wishful thinking. We are embarking on yet another year of home schooling adding preschool tasks and games to the mix. Addison and Charlie will be taking all day campus classes this year at Mp3 (Meridian Parent Partnership Program) on Monday and Wednesdays giving Myriam and I time to work on creative games, crafts, numbers and shape topics. 
We were hopeful with Myriam having her potty skills mastered by the time September came which proved itself too much for her. She's doing awesome, but not enough to meet the demands of the preschool we were trying to get her to attend. A quick change of plans, frantic trips to the Dollar Tree and Launching Success and now we have a great set up to meet this young ones needs. Although, anyone willing to play with our young one Tuesday and Thursday mornings is welcome to challenge her. It has become apparent that focusing with age three running around can be a 
struggle for our second and fifth grade students. 
Last week was a matter of review and testing the waters. This week is the official start of Mp3 as today we had Campus Orientation and figured out where all five classes are in the building. It was a challenge for me in high school mapping out where my classes were yet alone these young ones finding all five rooms! Teacher Jeff has been our Student Learning Planning Coordinator since first grade. He has watched Addison blossom into a young woman and go from the only one talking on the phone to having conversations in person. Knowing he's in the building and will come to the rescue is relief to the kids!




Even though there are moments of, "what the heck am I doing?" there are more sweet moments watching our kids mature, gain wisdom, stretch there knowledge and have precious time together as we begin this new school year. I'm not a perfect teacher. I'm not as organized and structured as I'd like to be. I drink too much coffee at the school table and would rather have happy kids than a perfectly dusted home. We have a roof over our heads, clean clothes, shoes that fit and love that keeps us together. Our faith keeps us moving forward and for that we are all thankful. My goal this year is to show the kids how they have a purpose; a reason to learn and a reason to be a blessing to others. If that means a few To Do's on the list go unnoticed then they sit for another day and another time. My goal is to show the kids how they are important and to instill confidence in their hearts to be successful in life. My goal is to challenge them to do things that may push them out of the box but knowing they are capable of doing so. 
Do I always love teaching the kids? No. Do I feel this is what God wants for our family? Yes. Do I judge others for not choosing this route? No, jealous they get that quiet coffee, time to read a book and house that 
sparkles a little longer than mine. 



{ Here's to 2015-2016 }

Details...




"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." 
Luke 12:7

Did you know that most of a dragonflies life is spent in it's nymph state underwater? After years in it's nymph state, it climbs out of the water and attaches itself to a stem, emerging into adult life leaving behind it's skin.  With an adult dragonfly only living for up to two months, you can imagine the frantic pace of life searching for a mate, laying eggs and finding food to be had. 
The detail of one insect has me in awe. 
Think about what all needs to take place in order for a dragonfly to survive. How not just two wings, but four, have to be perfectly timed in flight to succeed. How each dragonfly has it's own set of stripes and shade of colors making them unique in their own skin...details. 

{ Flight of life. }

{Exuvia: the old self emerging into something beautiful. }

"The Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature."  
Genesis 2:7

You breathed life into our nostrils...You form the clouds to be as You wish, showing Your might and Your power. You knit our very being together making each of us different and unique. Like twisted fishing line special in it's own way, so are our thoughts and opinions. You gave us purpose to live. We wear and tear causing new lines; our scars making new identifying marks about us. We each carry our own story like the fishing line has of it's own. Some feeling used, not wanted or without reason to take the next step. 
The beauty of the detail is that with that very breath, our lungs filled with His goodness and purpose. To be found. To be used for good. To be cared for. 


You give life, You are love
You bring light to the darkness
You give hope, You restore
Every heart that is broken

Great are You, Lord

It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise
We pour out our praise
It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise 
To You only

All the earth will shout
Your praise
Our hearts will cry
These bones will sing
Great are You, Lord



It wasn't the detail of the pine cone or berry I noticed. It was the little things such as the web and floating cotton that caught my eye. The twinkle in the sap heavy to drip and the dry bark with years of wear and tear covered by the obvious blanket of moss...details. 



The detail that is known and planned. The detail that is loved, wanted and given a reason to live. The detail that makes you want to stop and praise God for slower moments, for patching me together for MY exact PURPOSE. The detail of answering my whys and what am I doing with my life. The detail of preparing my heart to be a family. 
Without details, we would forever live in a dark and bland world. 
Know your details. Stop, search and share the beauty of your own details. 
My detail is knowing my Creator and Him uncovering the web of my life day after day. How yesterday effects today and today tomorrow. My prayer is that my life doesn't get so busy that I go not noticing these faith moments. My prayer is for myself and family to stop, listen, look around and see the littlest details that make our lives beautiful.

"Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created."
Revelation 4:11