Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today . . .
When I’m in Cambodia, I assume that I think like an American and that I act like one too — because in many ways I do. But then I return to America and discover I’ve forgotten some key facts about the way Americans live in America. Things like:
- Americans don’t throw their toilet paper in the trash can. (Oops.)
- Americans pump their own gas. (You expect me to do what?!)
- Americans give and receive objects with one hand, not two. (Still working on that one.)
- Americans inherently know how to use shower curtains. (Unlike my children.)
- Americans don’t point with their middle fingers. (Also unlike my children.)
- Americans don’t get offended if you motion them to “come here” with your palms and fingers pointed up. (I, however, now am offended by palms-up gestures. Even in movies.)
- On the other hand, Americans may very well be offended if you ask them their age. (Oops again.)
- Americans in America don’t worry over torn or ripped dollar bills and will use them even if they’re not in pristine condition. (Which is one less thing to worry about at the ATM.)
- Americans (in Suburbia) don’t lock doors and windows obsessively like I do.
- Americans don’t worry about shoes in the house. (Is it because of the vacuum cleaners??)
Much more deeply than these surface-level customs, though, there’s no getting around the fact that Cambodia has been etched into my soul. I’ve encountered God so fiercely, so intimately, and so many times in Cambodia that it’s been written into my heart.
In prayer, in Bible study, in worship, and in fellowship with other believers, Cambodia has marked me. It has been for me Bethel, the house of God, a gateway to heaven. It has been for me Beer-lahai-roi, the well of the Living One who sees me.*
It’s where I’ve found purpose and calling in writing and encouraging fellow sojourners. It’s where I’ve fallen deeper in love with God and with His church. How can I not love Cambodia??
Finish reading the post here.