Chapter 8: (Part 2) Day 1 The first slum

Day 1
The first slum

As we drove up to the dumpsite— the dump that people build their homes upon so they could make use of the disposed of materials— the children were sitting under a tent in chairs, anxiously awaiting our arrival. When we got out of the van, I smiled. My eyes locked with a little girl of about eight years. She was wearing a blue dress uniform for school and kept smiling at me. She was beautiful.

We played games with the children using balls and hula-hoops. Mike did a fantastic job leading games. He really has a gift for children. Actually, he WAS a gift to the children- and us all.

Before we played, we handed out bread and water. They were all so grateful and humble. There was a little boy with burns on one side of his face, arm, and hand. The whole morning, he just wanted to be held. He had such a lively spirit. He loved having pictures taken of him and constantly wanted to look at the pictures on the camera. Each picture resulted in a joyous my-heart-skipped-a-beat bout of laughter from him.

After games, we told the children a bible story. I narrated the story of Zacheus and Jesus, and it was translated by Radu (sp?). Mike acted out the part of Zacheus in hilarious fashion, making very animated facial gestures and body motions while using a pole and a fence as the tree.

Then, it was time for prayer. Kristen, our leader, asked if we could walk around the village and pray God’s blessing on the homes and the families. The people were so receptive. The little girl, the first one I saw who locked eyes with me, with an amazing smile, grabbed me by the right hand and a little boy grabbed my left hand. They dragged me to their homes, giggling the whole way. Without words, they introduced me to their parents and excitedly pointed to where they slept with humble pride, mostly wooden floors. Their parents let me pray with them. In most cases, I held the hands of the adults as I prayed. One of Pastor Narin’s staff, a young Cambodian man, walked with me and loosely translated enough for me to have permission to pray with the adults. He was with us all morning and until our prayer walk at the end, I didn’t realize he was on our team. Treasures are often at first unseen.

One woman wanted me to pray for healing for her. She had been sick for a while with a temperature. I could see the desperate hope in her eyes as she reached her hands out to me from her window. I climbed the little wooden ladder and cupped her hands into mine and prayed for spiritual, emotional, and physical healing and provision. I prayed that she would receive the truth into her heart and mind and that evil darkness would flee from her whole household.

I tried to pass some people by because it was time to meet at the van; I told myself that one of my teammates probably already prayed for them, but the Hoy Spirit just wouldn’t let me go-- And I’m so glad He didn’t! I smiled at my personal translator friend, said “just one more!” and enthusiastically ran back to the women I had passed by. He spoke to them and gave the “No problem” thumbs up. Then, the most obscure thing occurred. An older woman with whom I had already prayed, walked up to me and the ladies I was praying with and knelt down before us on the ground. I layed my hands on her as I finished praying. I had the most peculiar feeling about her. Either she already knew Jesus or she wanted to know Him. So I had my translator friend ask her if she knew Jesus. He told me that she was a Christian! How amazing. She wanted to pray for the people with me. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be one of only a handful of believers around. I motioned to her that she needed to pray for everyone when we are gone and she nodded in agreement.

Her embrace was so peaceful once I finally better understood her perspective. She had smiled the whole time. She couldn’t tell us she was a believer because of the language barrier. At last, I recognized the unique light in her eyes.

Cambodia Part III- Coming Soon