We have lived in Phnom Penh for over three months now. The city can be quite a shock to the system. I
have lived in several large cities where traffic can get backed up on the freeway.
Phnom Penh is the first city in which I can expect to get stuck in traffic for
nearly half an hour on a small residential street at noon. I acknowledge that
some cities will be cleaner than others, but I have to hold my breath when I
pass by a creek or canal here if I don’t want to get sick. I’ve lived in big
cities, but Phnom Penh is the grittiest. It has some very charming areas, but a lot of streets just look like this:
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Garbage and construction: that sums up up a significant percentage of the scenery. |
In Denver, I fit in enough that I could be an anonymous
introvert when I wanted to. I also had a group of friends that I could go to
any time and be known and welcomed. It’s the exact opposite in Phnom Penh. When
I leave the house, everyone notices me, but nobody knows me.
In this big, gritty, dirty city where everybody looks
different from me, I feel like an outsider. And to some degree, that will never
change. No one here will ever look at me and think that I come from these
parts.
One of the beautiful truths of the gospel is that the Holy
Spirit lives right inside of us. We are never separated from God no matter how
lonely the external circumstances of our lives make us feel. This is a good
truth, but there’s more. God calls us not just into relationship with the Spirit but also into the church so that we can live out our relationship with Jesus in the
community of other people.
Psalm 68:5-6 says: “A father to the fatherless, a
defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God
sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with
singing.” If all we’ve got is God, that is enough. But God doesn’t want a world
of isolated individuals. God wants to create a community where the orphans are
cared for, the widows are defended and the lonely know what it is like to be a
part of a family. God wants to bring the outsiders in.
Lauren and I are beginning to have some friendships at
church. We’re getting to know some of our classmates. The city is slowly
starting to feel less lonely. I have faith that God has called us here and will
fulfill the promise to give us a family here in Cambodia. I am walking through
this season of being an outsider in anticipation that God will make Cambodia feel like
home one day.
A few weeks ago, Lauren and I were across town sitting in traffic on a
tuk tuk. I heard a voice coming from behind me say, “Excuse me, sir.” People
usually only address me in English with “sir” if they want to sell me
something. I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore it. “Don’t turn around
and make eye contact,” I told myself.
“Excuse me, sir. Excuse me, sir.” He was being persistent, and the traffic jam meant we were going to be sitting here for a while. “Might as well get this over with,” I thought to myself.
“Excuse me, sir. Excuse me, sir.” He was being persistent, and the traffic jam meant we were going to be sitting here for a while. “Might as well get this over with,” I thought to myself.
I turned toward the voice and looked right into the smiling
face of one of our apartment’s security guards. He waved at me and Lauren and
chatted with us for a few minutes until we both started moving
again.
What were the odds that after just a couple of months in
Cambodia, I would run into somebody I knew in this city of close to two million
people? I believe God does bring the outsiders in. I believe God's heart is to set the lonely in families. I'm far from integrated into the life of any community, but with moments like this one, a big city starts to feel a whole lot smaller.
