I have faced a tough couple of days maybe even weeks. I am struggling with not feeling adequate enough. Do you ever feel like God chose the wrong person to do the job? This is what I have been carrying with me. I have been reading two books about poverty alleviation and effective mission. “When Helping Hurts” by Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert asks hard questions that I feel both uneducated and inexperienced enough to answer and to put into practice. I get discouraged that I am not the best for the task. I keep asking my brother and sister-in-law to come. In my mind I think, “If Brent were here he would know what to do...” I lean on his knowledge a lot. Why doesn’t God send him over here? I know he would do a better job. He has the knowledge and the skill set, I don’t.
Does a person ever feel adequate enough? Do Mark Driscoll, Billy Graham, or John Piper ever sit down in their offices and think, “Man this is easy” or “Peace of cake”? Are we ever supposed to feel adequate enough? I know scriptures talk about God using the weak. When a victory takes place all the glory goes to God. If we were strong and mighty we could claim the victory for ourselves, but I know nothing I can do with my own strength would ever be victorious. It can only be God working through me so that in his man the victory is won.
I am reminded of this everyday. I know I cannot survive in this country with my own strength. This week I went to Lisa and Polly’s home for the first time. It is during instances like this, that I am reminded that I cannot do this on my own strength. As I walked in I was hit with the strong smell of urine. Once the urine smell settled in my nose my eyes were taken back by what they saw. In the corner of a small Wat was a little community. There was a grandmother cooking rice over a fire, about six men awake laughing together (probably at me, but I am getting used to that), other men still asleep on some sort of Buddhist monument, Lisa and Polly wondering around half necked, their older brother and sister, and then me. I have been walking the girls and their older two sibling home this past week. Saturday night while taking the girls home after street ministry I surprised a young man by walking in on him in the act of doing drugs. As we turned the corner into the Wat he quickly met my gaze and hid whatever he was doing under his shirt. I approached and befriended him, recognizing that he was a common resident of this little community. I was most saddened by the thought that this family that I am beginning to fall in love with have to see this on a daily basis. Drugs is a way of life. The man (more like boy) was just sitting on the stairs in what would be the living room area of this little community. Lisa and Polly thought nothing of it, walked right past him, and went on playing.
It is during these times that I am grateful for God’s strength. I don’t want to get calloused to the things I see, however I can tell already that the things that used to shock me have become a part of my everyday life. I am in awe of God’s love. Jesus did not come to be served but to serve. My hope is that I can serve the people of Cambodia the way Jesus would have, and not with my strength but his. To God be the glory.