dirty, stinky feet

I worked with a fellow who didn’t like to see feet. He preferred the ladies in the office to not wear sandals or open-toed shoes. If we were on a retreat, he certainly didn’t care for me wearing flip-flops. Honestly, I never really understood. I have always supposed feet are feet. The look the way God intended. Not good. Not bad. Just feet.

Since arriving in Cambodia, I have seen a lot of feet. I must admit, living in an environment where flip-flops are likely “as good as it gets” is not a good thing for foot appearance. When you travel by foot or motorbike, on roads of dirt or mud, your feet show it. Feet and faces don’t match – harsh treatment ages feet, but smiles stay young.

Today, I was working triage, on the ship. During a lull, I sat down to cool off. I spent time looking at everyone and sharing smiles. Then, I moved to the feet. I surveyed the feet of our patients. A pedicurist would have loved the challenge that was being presented. I was quite amused with myself, as I thought about pitching the idea of “Cambodia’s Next Top Pedicurist” to the creative staff at Fox.

My amusement faded as I thought about a group of sandal-wearing men, traveling by foot, on dusty, dirty, and muddy roads. They left Bethany, traveling to Jerusalem. It was nearly time for the Passover Feast. As the group ate dinner, the Teacher stood. He took off his outer garment, picked up a towel, and tied it around his waist. I don’t know that the other men even noticed. Next, the Teacher poured water into a bowl. It was then that the fun began. The Teacher approached the first man, and washed his feet. Then, the next. The next. And, so on.

There was some discussion, and some protesting, but the Teacher washed the feet of all twelve men. Once the last toe was dried, the Teacher stood, put on his outer garment, and returned to his seat at the table. I assume there were many stares at one another. No one was really sure what to say. Some were, no doubt, embarrassed. Some were confused. The Teacher was the first to speak, “Do you understand what I did for you? You call me ‘Teacher.’ And you call me ‘Lord.’ And this is right, because that is what I am. But I washed your feet. So you also should wash the other’s feet. I did this as an example for you. So you should serve each other just as I served you. “
I have read this passage from John 13 many times. I know, I know, we are to wash the feet of others. I get it. But my world had only given me examples of nice, pretty, easy to clean feet. Today, I really got it. I am not only responsible for the “clean” feet, but the really dirty ones, too. The ones with bad nails. The ones with sores. There were no qualifications, just “…you also should wash the other’s feet.”

Lord, have you never heard of germs? “…you also should wash the other’s feet.”

Lord, I just got an expensive manicure! “…you also should wash the other’s feet.”

Lord, I am a prominent citizen. “…you also should wash the other’s feet.”

Lord, I am only in high school. “…you also should wash the other’s feet.”

Lord, I am far too old. “…you also should wash the other’s feet.”

Lord, I have a family and responsibilities. “…you also should wash the other’s feet.”

And, so it goes.

Thank God for opening my eyes, today. Thank God for revealing his path. Thank God for dirty, stinky feet.

New week, new village

On Friday, we left for a new village. The new village is a few km further south. It was beautiful moving down the river and seeing villages, from the river viewpoint.

It was great watching the crew bring us in. As you can imagine, it is quite an ordeal. Maybe, it is like the circus coming to town, in the old days --- our arrival draws a lot of curious onlookers. They lined the hill watching us.

Saturday is a free day, so we had time to "go to town." Phnom Penh is a bustling city. Much like other southeast Asian cities, there are many people, cars, and motorbikes. Bill McDonough refers to PP traffic as "organized chaos." I think he is a bit generous, on the organized part.

We enjoyed seeing the city, visiting the Partners in Progress office, and touring the Royal Palace.

in front of the coronation hall

Sunday, we took a walk through the village. It was exciting to see the village life. The smiles of the people, especially the children, are wonderful. We love to share the pictures with the children. They love to see themselves. Paris Hilton has nothing on these children -- they love to have their picture taken!!

an upscale village house

shy but interested in having a photo taken

young and old

Cambodian acrobat?

Debbie always leaves them smiling

I am looking forward to seeing familiar faces, on Monday, when they come to us for medical care.

The Obligatory Food Post

Banana crepes. Our cook prepared banana crepes, for breakfast. Get this picture. We are sitting on a ship, tied up to the Mekong River bank, getting ready to eat breakfast. Our 25-year-old Khmer cook comes out and sets down a tray of the lightest, tastiest crepes I have ever had. Oh, and in case you don’t know, I don’t like bananas. Honestly, these bananas are different. I know that Sherry and Allison don’t believe me. They are both sweeter and tangier than typical U.S. bananas. After breakfast, I actually peeled and just ate a banana!

We are in the midst of mango season. We are near a ferry, and it is amazing to see the motorcycles and little trucks burdened to the point of collapse, stacked high with bags of mangoes being delivered to the market. These mangoes are so good. It is embarrassing the way Debbie and I “ooh” and “ahhhhhh” at every meal. There is nothing like getting the fruit at the source. The cook has not had to buy any mangoes. The people bring them, as thanks for the medical care they are receiving.

We have had wonderful western food, since arriving – pumpkin soup, fish and vegetables, beef stew, sugar-free brownie cake, omelets. Each meal is better than the last. The crew eats Khmer food. It looks and smells wonderful. I simply love Asian food; particularly Southeast Asian. I look longingly at their plates, each day. Yesterday, I had some of their soup. They were amused. It was Pho-like chicken. No noodles. And, it was made with banana flowers.

Needless to say, we are not suffering.

This journey guarantees to provide many new experiences – even bananas!

Of Luggage, Motos, and Recognition

The flight is long. It is very long. Too long. It is not your weekly commute. After a few thousand miles, I thought it would never end. Oh, I have flown the Pacific before – typically a couple of times a year. But, those flights were just the beginning of trips. This flight was the beginning of a journey.

I have no trouble sleeping on planes. It is an acquired skill, no doubt. I went to sleep before we pushed away from the gate, at LAX. Then, I woke up. From that point, the sleep was fretful. There was so much on my mind. I thought about the heat. I thought about the food. I thought about the people I would meet. I thought about how I might affect the lives of others. I thought about how my life would be affected. This flight was the beginning of a journey.

We were late arriving in Hong Kong. This meant a mad dash to the gate. We made it and calmly boarded the second leg of our flight. Thank God, it was only a couple of hours. Debbie and I arrived in Phnom Penh full of excitement. We made our way through the visa and customs process. Then, we stood at the luggage carousel and watched the endless parade of luggage. Round and round. After four times seeing the gray hard-case with the rainbow colored strap, I knew I was in trouble. We had made the flight in Hong Kong ---- but, our bags had not.

After making arrangements with the lost luggage staff, we found our host, Bill. He was waiting for us outside the airport. With a certain amount of trepidation, we left the Phnom Penh airport luggage-less.

There is something about the fearlessness of Southeast Asian drivers. The gladiators in the Coliseum had nothing on these people. The courage they show in the face of trucks, cars, and a multitude of motorbikes is inspiring. As we flinched and closed our eyes, we progressed through the city. I have to wonder the average lifespan of a moto driver, in Phnom Penh. How many times can you ride into oncoming traffic without an accident? How often can you cut across three or four lanes (oh, yeah, like there are really lanes!) of traffic and not bear the scars?

Once we arrived on the Ship of Life, we got settled in. Well, as much as you can when you have nothing with which to settle. Bill gave us a tour of the ship. Everyone was hard at work taking care of patients. It was so nice to see Marie Claire, Bill’s wife, again. There were quick introductions to all of the staff. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have us. I felt very welcomed.

As jet-lag began to overcome us, Debbie and I decided to take a nap. We slept through the afternoon thunder and lightning storm. At dinner-time, I forced myself up. Hey, I didn’t come thousands of miles to begin skipping meals! Dinner was great. Saeng, the cook, does a great job with Khmer and western food. Following dinner it was time for English/Bible study with some of the crew.

Bill studies twice per week with Jack, the electrician. It was so encouraging to see Jack working to learn the meaning of the English words, as well as making sure to get the Biblical principles of the story. He was studying Adam and Eve in the Garden. Because Bill had to step out, I helped Jack. He read about God confronting Adam, then Eve, and their game of blame-placing. Chills ran down my back as Jack’s eyes lit up. He got it. We have to take responsibility for ourselves. There is no one to blame, when we trip up. Jack is learning English. But more than that, he is learning lessons with eternal implications.

My arrival in Cambodia has given me three great lessons:

First, as we rode through the streets of Phnom Penh, I realized that even if our luggage never came, we still had more than many people. Okay, I can be sweaty in the same shirt for a few days. By the world’s standards, I am beyond rich. I am so wealthy. I have more than I really realize.

Second, I need to live more like the Cambodian moto drivers. I need to have courage. I need to step up and boldly do what I know I am to do. I can’t be concerned about the honking horns of life’s naysayers. I have someplace to go. I have Someone to serve. I can’t let the busy traffic get in my way.

Third, this life is all about God, and my relationship with Him. I can’t blame anyone else when I foul up. This deal is between God and me. I have to answer to Him. There is no one else standing there with me. The sooner I get that, the sooner I can really grow.

There is so much to tell. But, isn’t that always the way when you are on a journey?

T- 12:44 and counting

It started months ago. There was an ad in the Christian Chronicle. There was discussion. There was research. There was a lot of discussion. Now, about one year later, we are 13 hours away from leaving for Cambodia.

In the last 12 months I have learned so much. I have learned about the horrors of the child sex trade in southeast Asia, and the world. I have learned that one person can have an impact on the lives of hundreds of young women. I have learned about human slavery all over the world, including the U.S. I have been appalled at the savagery of one man towards another, and how the ego or ideals (whatever you choose to call it) can nearly wipe out a generation.

Some of that learning came from:

• watched Red Light, a documentary on Cambodian child sex trafficking
• read Somaly Mam's book, The Road of Lost Innocence
• read Not For Sale
• read a couple of books on the Khmer Rouge
• read a couple of books on sharing the Gospel with Buddhists
• watched The Killing Fields
• read countless Cambodia travel books
• read LARGE book on the culture of Vietnam
• watched Andrew Zimmern's Bizarre Food about Cambodia
• watched Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations about Cambodia (hey, a guy has to eat - or not!)

But, I have also learned about hope. I have learned about faith. I have learned about people willing to sacrifice the comforts of home and family to go to a faraway land and share God with a people who have never met Him. I have been inspired.

So, shortly, Debbie and I will begin the adventure of a life time. We thought we were embarking on an adventure back in December of 1978, WE HAD NO IDEA! I mean, it has all been an adventure, but the adventure is getting bigger. By Monday evening, we will be on the Mekong River. THE Mekong River. We will be on the Ship of Life offering medicine for the body and the soul. Well, we won't be offering medicine (for the sake of the Cambodians), but we will be showing/sharing the love of Christ.

I am asking all prayer warriors to bring our name before the Father. We need Him. Remember the Ship of Life. It is a great work and we want God to be central in all it does. We can put politics and government issues aside. The focus is on instilling the heart of God in a people who desperately need it.

I will be writing more in the coming days and weeks. See you on the river!

Just how much do I hate people?

Today, I was sent this link to a Youtube video. I am sent many links. Typically, it is a cute child, cute kitten or puppy, or someone doing something really stupid and maiming themselves. I tend to like the latter.

This one is different. It is a convicting message from an unlikely source. I am still pondering it! Watch it and see what you think.

Wow, what have I been thinking? I certainly haven't been thinking about evangelism, in that way.

I have a lot more thinking to do!

Chat later

40 Martyrs of Sebaste

The story of 40 martyrs unfolds in the city of Sebaste during the reign of Emperor Licinius in 320 A.D.

Licinius had ordered that none of his soldiers would follow Christ. It was forbidden. Any that failed to worship pagan gods would be punished.

A garrison of Roman soldiers was stationed in this remote Armenian town. The decree of the Emperor was told to all those serving in this garrison, by the governor of the region. Forty of the soldiers were devout Christians.

The Christian soldiers presented themselves to the governor, declaring they were followers of Christ. They were brought before a judge who tried to persuade them to forsake Christ, reminding them of the dishonor they were bringing on the Emperor ---- since they were loyal soldiers. He promised them favor. They would not renounce their faith. Finding them resolute, the judge had them imprisoned and beaten.

The governor was offended by their upstart attitude.. A cruel death was planned for them. It was bitterly cold in Sebaste at this time of the year, and they were forced to remove their clothes and stand on a frozen lake outside the city. On the shore was a warm bath -- where they could go if they would renounce the Lord.

Still they refused! As they endured the horrible torture, one finally gave in to the severe cold and taunting of the guards.

One of the guards had been watching intently, during the torture. He was so moved by the faith of the 39, that he removed his clothes and walked onto the frozen pond, replacing the one who had left.

Forty men perished, giving their all for Christ.

Christ gave his all for us.

What does he ask of us? No less.

John wrote, in Revelation 2:10 Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor’s crown.