A few travelers here in Sihanoukville, Cambodia.

When I look around, though, sometimes the line between one and the other isn’t so clear. For example, we ran into a guy running a cafe back in Battambang who told us he’s from the US and got “stuck” here, and then just, “…I’ll leave it at that.”

Hmmm…I wondered what happened. Did he run out of money? Maybe he’s running from the IRS? Or what if he’s in a witness protection program. It’s always possible he got mixed up with the wrong girl. What would it be like to come to Cambodia for a month and end up staying for years? Life has it’s twist and turns. I know I’ve had mine.

Hearing more than one story like this over the past couple months, got me thinking about the journey of life and how people “end up” at one place or another. It’s easy to have regret about missed opportunities in days gone by. “Where would I be if I actually stuck with this or that?”

I finished Deuteronomy in the Bible and the people of Israel are about to cross the Jordan River and cross into the “promised land”. They had wandered the wilderness for at least 40 years. They’d wandered until the people with cancerous unbelief died off.

In the Psalms, they are quoted and their unbelief comes through loud and strong even though they remembered God’s miracles in the same statement.

“True, he struck the rock,
and water gushed out,
streams flowed abundantly,
but can he also give us bread?
Can he supply meat for his people?”

Psalm 78:20

David calls his own mind to what God had done in the past to try and build his own faith.

“I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”

Psalm 77:11-12

These people started like that, and then they threw a negative amendment at the end, which, of course, diminished and nullified their own statement of faith.

“I know you are with me, Lord, but…”

“You have brought me out of the mire and set my feet on a rock, but….” Sort of takes the power out of it, doesn’t it?

Essentially throwing a doubt or fear at the end of a praise is like say yes and no in the same breath.

“Yes, but no.”

The thing I’ve been asking myself lately is not, “Where is the promised land?” but “What is the promised land?” Am I like Joshua and Caleb who came back with a good report about the challenges ahead or am I like the other spies who said, “Yes it’s good, but…”

What is my promised land… now… today? What step of faith is God asking me to take that seems too hard? What has he been saying to me for years?

A teacher talking about hearing the voice of God once told me something like this: “Are you having trouble hearing God’s voice? Well, think back to the last time you know for sure he spoke to you. Then ask yourself, ‘Did I do what he said?’”

Maybe I’ve been circling the mountain in the wilderness instead of going by faith, proclaiming that the blessings outweigh the difficulties. Have I grown accustomed to the wilderness and, in a way, become a permanent resident there?

Again, it’s more likely God is waiting on me than the opposite. What if I could go into the “promised land” anytime I’m ready? What if my unbelief is the only obstacle? Check out Caleb’s statement about claiming his inheritance in the promised land.

“So here I am today, eighty-five years old! I am still as strong today as the day Moses sent me out… their cities were large and fortified, but, the Lord helping me, I will drive them out just as he said.”

Joshua 14:10-12

How different is this statement from the one that says, “Yes, but, blah blah blah.”?

On and off as I was writing this, I was looking at pictures of my brother, Klaus on Facebook because it’s his birthday today (May 16). I came across this one. It’s a picture of a note from our Dad with a humorous remark about the “promised land”. Happy Birthday Kid! 

Koh Rahn main beach

Rob and I just got back from an island off the coast of Cambodia called Koh Rahn. The beach they drop you at is similar to many in Thailand and other countries. There’s a row of beach-front cafe’s and guesthouses right on the sand. We were told there was a 7km long beach through the woods somewhere on another side of the island. One of the locals told us where it the trail started, so the second day we headed out. We figured we’d walk one way and get a boat taxi back if we didn’t want to do it twice. We didn’t pay much attention to the sign that said something like, “follow the flip flops and red dots.”

It started with a steep climb out the back of the village in the blazing sun. It’s a whole new level of hot over here. It makes 90 degrees in Chicago seem like the cool of spring. At the top of the first hill, there was a flip flop pointed to the left nailed to a post with a red dot. Perfect. I guess go the direction it’s pointing? A minute or so later, at another fork, we met a guy coming back toward us proclaiming, “I don’t think it’s that way?” So on we marched, the three of us down the alternative path. Eventually we came to a man and a woman with a small child going the same direction. How bad can it be if they’re taking their kid over there? We passed them and picked up the pace a little. Back to just Rob and I. We kept seeing flip flops here and there, but there were some blue dots now. “Did the sign say blue? or was it red?” I felt certain it said red until there were only blue dots, then I wasn’t sure. The trail was getting more and more overgrown.

Simple enough, right?

Clearly this isn’t the trail.. or is it? Rob said he heard reports of a rope to climb down one part of it. Maybe this IS it. Let’s just keep going. Then came the cliff. After standing there evaluating it, discussing going back to the last turn, down we climbed. At the bottom we agreed we weren’t going back no matter what. After all, we’d hit the water eventually even if we were off the path. It was a path, just not the one with the flip flops… or the dots… no blue, no red.

Rob was in front and his sandals were sliding all over the place from sweat. By this point the, “Do you think it goes this way or that way?” discussion happened about every 30 feet. I was thinking about 2 things. First, I hoped his flip flops held out because it would be gnarly doing this barefoot. Second, pictures on the card reading “Venomous snakes of Cambodia” I looked at on a table at a restaurant the day before were running through my mind. What were they again? The Malaysian Viper, the Cobra. Yea, there was even a spotted one called the Krait. You probably wouldn’t feel too good if you got nailed in the leg by one of those bad boys. Well, keep your eyes open and march on.

Malaysian Pit Viper

I guess we should have read the sign more carefully. Maybe staying with the others would have been good. Well, no point worrying about that stuff now. Just keep climbing down and look for snakes. Now I was out front and had a little momentum going from the grade and all at once, I stumbled out of the woods onto this clear trail in front of a row of bungalows. “Good news, Rob!” I shouted back.

About 3 minutes later we were sitting at a little cafe in the woods next to the beach where the “real” trail let out.

As we sat there sweating bullets, drinking water, getting eaten alive by mosquitos, the people we passed earlier came out. Funny thing was, now that we were all there, it didn’t really matter about the dots, the sign, path, the challenges, or who got there first.

I went back and checked the sign the next day…”Red Paint Marks”

Following Jesus is like that I think.

Am I on the right path? Should it be this hard? What about those other people? Do they have it easier? Have I misread the signs?

I personally think when life is over, we might talk about the challenges, but I doubt for long. The destination will dwarf the difficulties.

“See, I will create
new heavens and a new earth.
The former things will not be remembered,
nor will they come to mind.”

Isaiah 65:17

The 7km Beach.

White Dragon Cafe

This morning I’m down at a beach restaurant called the White Dragon. The name sounds formidable but it’s a great little cafe run by a sweet woman and her kids. They make a good cup of coffee and that is why I’m here. Rob and I have a ferry booked for 1pm out to an Island called Koh Rong. There’s a light rain falling, which is heaven compared to the usual blasting sun. Anything to take the edge off the heat. The island will be without internet, and power except for a couple hours a day, from what I’m told. It’s a 2 hour ferry ride south into the ocean.

We talked about doing a fast while we’re there. Take a break from the norm, ditch the internet, phone, and maybe even food. Try to dial it in a little spiritually. I’ve heard fasting called “voluntary weakness.” It’s not about praying more or doing more. It’s about doing less and letting God do more.

Food. What a topic. Just trying to go without for a few days can be a struggle. It’s a necessity for sure, but what exactly does that mean? Does it mean you’ll die without it? Yes, but does it mean you’ll die without eating an absolute mountain of it every meal?

One thing I’ve noticed over the past few weeks here in Cambodia is that I’ve lost weight, which always happens here. I’m a 2 meal per day guy anyway, usually coffee in the morning, lunch, and dinner. So what’s different? One answer. Smaller portions. Every night at dinner, it’s some sort of meat, rice, salad, and a small bottle of water… Maybe go all out and get a Mango shake. It’s affordable and good, and it’s ENOUGH. The only thing running through my mind is, “If I were sitting at my Mom’s table and ‘seconds’ were available, I would eat twice this much.” But I’m not about to order a whole second dinner even though it crosses my mind and only costs $3. “Let it settle in a little and you’ll be satisfied,” I tell myself.

In America we’re about massive portions. Huge Cokes, 20 oz. coffees, and Super Sized EXTRA value meals. Just think about those words. 3 out of 4 descriptives make a case for it being massive and the last word, “value” says it’s good money management to drink a 44 oz Coke. It’s the right thing to do. I actually love the portions in America. Europeans have no problem with paying $2-3 for tiny coffee

I paid $3 for this in France last year.

called an Americano or a Latte in a mini-tea cup I can drink in one gulp. I love a 20 oz. Starbucks coffee with a shot or two of espresso tossed in just to make sure. Doing things “wide open” is my favorite speed. My wise Grandfather used to say, “Moderation in all things…” He lived to be 92. I’ll be lucky to make 62.

Does this over-doing everything come from the thought in the back of my mind that there might not be enough? I know from attempts at personal rehabilitation in the past that this is part of it. Lets say, I’m quitting something January 1st, the classic New Year’s Resolution “setting a date to make myself feel better.”  Is there a tendency to slow down December 29, 30, and 31, so the break is easier? NEVER. It’s pedal to the medal, ramped up to the max until the very last second. In fact, the last day is probably the day with the most excess. I know the human psyche is complex and everyone is different, but that’s the way my brain works.

I think fasting (not only food) is good. It’s taught in the Bible and self-control is a fruit of the Spirit. Telling my giant, self-centered ego, “No” once in a while probably doesn’t hurt anything. Sometimes it might even take going to an island without the internet to keep me from logging into Facebook for a few days.

“…the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…” Galatians 5:22-23

Self control is probably last in the list because it’s the characteristic requiring the greatest maturity and the last fruit to grow from fellowship with the Spirit. It’s easy to get focussed on failures, see the standard, and despair. The good news is that even the desire to possess any of these is indication that there’s a start. It’s the mustard seed that will eventually grown into the tree.  He will finish the work he started, so I’m thankful for that.

Balance.. fruit included

Rob and I have moved down to a place on the coast here in Cambodia called Sihanoukville. There is a small YWAM initiative here that Rob has worked with in the past. We’re set to meet with the leader tomorrow.

It’s amazing the growth that’s happened in just 2 years since I was here last. What was just a few restaurants lining the beach has become many more of the same. In Cambodian culture, it’s common when one merchant starts a business and enjoys some level of success, for others do the same thing.. the exact same thing. They even take pictures of the other outfit and duplicate it to a T. There is no attempt to try to think of something new or give and old idea a new spin.

There are lots of vendors making passes back and forth on the beach selling hand made bracelets, fireworks, and offering manicures. It’s low season now because of the blistering heat and soon to come, Monsoon rains. That means low numbers of tourists but still the same number of “touts” and vendors selling (or more like pushing) their products. If you sit at a cafe or walk down the road, people never stop coming or shouting “tuk tuk!” (taxi) at you. It’s literally endless. The local cafe owners tolerate it because the vendors are fellow-Cambodians, so they figure they might as well let them give it a shot with the tourists (us).

Along with them come people begging for money. They idle up slowly, usually elderly or handicapped in some way and stand or sit in the direction you’re looking and mutter something over and over and over and over. Many will stay for quite a while before they move on. If you give a little cash, the traffic increases. When you first come to town, you’re struck by them. You think of Jesus and try to think of what he might do. You ask the Spirit for wisdom. Many things come to mind from the word. First thing I thought was this one…

“Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will reward them for what they have done.”

Proverbs 19:17

Pretty straight-forward. I’m selfish and I like rewards, so let’s be kind to the poor!

Well, how is one “kind”? Does that mean give money?

2 years ago here, I agonized over this woman carrying a baby. She stood in front of our table for a long time with a hand out, super filthy dirty and her baby crying. She was quietly whispering, “Please help me. Help my baby.” I sat there beside this busy street eating a meal with a team of Americans and felt worse with every bite. How could I sit here with all my western resources eating while she suffered? I thought of my food turning to worms in my stomach as I ignored her. Finally, I gave in and handed her a couple dollars. The instant I did, she walked to a near-by parking lot, handed the money to a nicely dressed man talking on a cell phone standing next to a nice SUV, then came back and went to the next restaurant. What an idiot I was. I stopped giving out money after that.

We’ve carried cookies for kids and bought meals for people to avoid the pitfalls of handing out cold hard cash. BUT one time I was handing out cookies to kids at a train station in India and it created such a frenzy, an older man came running over and yelled to me, “…stop it! You’re creating problems for us!”

What are the other options?

One time, Peter and John ran into a lame man who asked them for money at the temple. Peter responded with this…

“…Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”

Acts 3:6

Should Rob and I try that?

Here’s another one that talks about responding to need with material possessions…

“If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person?”

1 John 3:17

John is probably talking about fellow-believers here, but since I know God has pity on me, it follows that I would want to pass it along.

Maybe the best thing is a mix. Give out cookies and a card saying, “Jesus loves you and died for your sins,” written in Khmer. We’ll figure out something practical…

Say what you can, pray what you can, do what you can, give what you can… something like that. Faith in action…

A tourist giving money to a lame man scooting from door to door.

Anyway, who cares about any of that. I am reading this morning in Deuteronomy, where Moses is giving the people an account of the history of the generation before them, so they can enter the promised land without repeating their mistakes. I found it interesting that he said,

“It is not because of your righteousness or your integrity that you are going in to take possession of their land…”

Deuteronomy 9:5

I think that’s so counterintuitive for us as people, especially as believers. We are in trouble, like the people of Israel, we cry to God to get us out of evil we walked into, then when he does, our hearts are “raised up”. We are proud, forgetting the actual accounts of history, twisting it and taking credit for “boundary lines falling in pleasant places.” We begin to take credit for righteousness or achievement. This is huge. If we do this, we are elevated in our own hearts, judging and condemning others as a bi-product. We are the older brother of the prodigal, the ungrateful servants in the parable of the 11th hour.

God loves everyone and offers grace to all people. He demonstrates this over and over in the Old and, obviously, in the New Testament. He is constantly “grafting in” Gentiles like Rahab even including them in the line of Christ. For some reason, I have met Jesus and he is working in my life. It’s not my righteousness that got me here, so I shouldn’t take credit for it. Period. In reality, it’s my sin that got me here. Without it, I wouldn’t even need to be saved from anything.

Last night, Rob and I were in a “Smile” convenient store and these guys came storming in. They were tattooed, loud, and loading up on goodies for the evening.  As they stammered around the register, Rob nudged me and pointed to the legs of one of the guys. He had tattoos-one on the back of each calf in big, block, capital letters written vertically. One leg said, “F**!” and the other said, “LIFE”. 

Here in PP, anything goes. It’s dirty, there are brothels everywhere, booze flows like a river, and drugs are cheap and easy to get. If you walk around, people emerge from the darkness with options I won’t repeat. If you’re out for that kind of a “good time”, this place is more than happy to accomadate. Rob and I walked back to the hotel talking about the tattoo. This guy gets THAT tattooed on his body. It’s permanent. What kind of a head space is he in? The words say a lot. He is on a rampage of self destruction. He’s going to show God and whoever else that he can kill himself if he wants. What happened to him?

First thing I thought was, “Wow, thank God I don’t have that written on my legs.” But the fact is, I have thought like that too… for sure. There’s a temptation to elevate myself.

Now, if I had a wife and kids here, I would hide them from that guy, no doubt. But the only reason I don’t think like that anymore is because God has been working with me. For all I know, he is working on that guy too and he’s just running away. Maybe I’m not “partying” tonight because people like my Mom and Grandma prayed for me. I wonder… when was the last time anyone prayed for that guy? What if no one ever has?

The moment I think I am somewhere because of my righteousness, I am in danger of forgetting who is who, and who did what. Like Moses told the people. You are not on your way to the promised land because of anything you did. It’s because of what Jesus did. It helps me to keep that in mind. It helps me love people more. After all, it’s simple isn’t it? Love God, love people. Number one and number two.

Love hopes…

“And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.”

Deuteronomy 10:19