April 27

Yesterday, I met a man named John who works for the Union in Singapore, but was visiting and doing some LE (literature evangelism) work in Phnom Penh. He invited me to go to a place that would: “Change my life,” was his only explanation. As I got into his van, with 100 sacs of food in the trunk, we drove out to the garbage dumps. The air was rank and pungent, everything smelled like rotting feces. Endless fields were covered in garbage, and children came down the hills to greet us, many without shoes or clothes. An entire community lived upon these heaps of trash. They gathered underneath a tin shade, as we handed out bags of rice and noodles. John touched the hand of an old woman, blackened with filth, and the villagers who saw seemed taken aback, shocked that any healthy white man would have such humility as to touch her in a way that was warm or affectionate. Flies rested on people’s faces, and nobody bothered to swat them away. I remained quiet on the ride home, just thinking, “When was the last time any of these people had a proper bath, a proper meal, a proper pair of shoes?” And I realized, I am here to experience moments like these, where I am horrified, humiliated, ashamed, enraged. Where contempt is poured on all of my pride, withering away like broken flowers. “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.” Matthew 5:3 (The Message)