Since it's Christmas, Let's Be Glad.

I am not perfect.

My life, is not perfect.

You can always count on the Cambodian people to be the first to point out any imperfections.

My children have pointed out to me things from faulty machinery to behavior irregularities.

It's one of those things that you have to take in stride, because no social-cues in that sense can be rough on the self-image.

Olga has spent the last, I don't even know how long, preparing for the Christmas program.

She has worked endlessly to find music, plays, costumes, decorations. She has taught songs, practiced songs, and spent every afternoon with Special Choir.

I took an hour out of each day this week and had my kids practice their songs. I practiced patience while I tried to get them to sing, voiCE, rejoiCE and ChrisT.

Sopheak says in his way, Chaaaa, why you make up practice again and AGAINNNN?

Because I want you to do well!

And then it's here. It's December 24th. Tests are finished, classes are finished. The only thing left to do is party and SING.

After flag raising, everyone is marched into the big tent to practice before the program at eleven. As Sharon makes the announcement about what is happening she says, do it well the first time and we won't have to practice again and again!! I make eye contact with Sopheak and we both laugh.

We got through practice with enough time for a forty-five minute party. Perfect. I had made muffins and cookies. There is fruit and juice and little gifts for everyone. Things are spilled, messes are made, but there is lots of laughter.

The Christmas program starts at eleven. All the kids are lined up in a sea of star crowns and animals masks. It's adorable, and I can feel appreciation and love for this place and these people rushing back in after a week of complications, stress and noisy kids.

The program is long and it's hotter than you could ever imagine a Christmas Eve could be. Things don't go perfectly. Drama kids forget their lines, they still sing Chri, Voi, and rejoy, and changing groups to sing takes a lifetime.

But then it's time for Special Choir to sing Breath of Heaven.

"I am waiting in silent prayer. I am frightened by this load I bear. In a world as cold as stone, must I walk this path alone? Be with me now. Breath of heaven, hold me together"

They sing as Mary wanders the stage crying under the weight of what she is enduring. She is not perfect, or fearless. As she crumbles, angels come to her side and hold her up.

As the song finishes, "But I offer all I am, for the mercy of Your plan." Mary is ready to have the baby.

As I watched this, it struck me anew, Christmas is not about gifts, costumes, or perfection. It's about inadequate, mixed-up people.

People who need a savior.

I'm not perfect. Jesus came to save ME. This is good news.

Half Way.

Today marks the half way point of my time in Cambodia.

Currently all the lights are off in the apartment except the Christmas lights.

Christmas is on Sabbath. But it seems like there is a mountain of work before we can reach that point.

We are giving finals tomorrow and Thursday at school.

I have to bake up a storm for a classroom Christmas party.

Then on Friday it's Christmas program and party time.

And then we have to get all the grades and lesson plans done so we can go on holiday.

On Sabbath is Christmas. We have responsibilities with church service, and the final special choir performances in the afternoon.

On Sunday we leave for Bali for a week. [God has blessed me with some wonderful WONDERFUL people at home.]

I feel like I should have my life more together. I am five months in I still feel like I hardly know what I am doing sometimes. Maybe that comes with being a new teacher. Maybe that comes with being an SM.

My days are crazy. I try to keep them quiet so was can maybe learn something. During lunch I laugh at the boys and the mildly dangerous games they choose to play. When one o'clock hits and they thunder out of my room and take what feels like my first breath of the day.

As I sit in the twinkly darkness I wonder if it ever slows down.

This life that I am living is something I have thought about, dreamed about for years!

And now it is half way over.

The days are long but the weeks go fast.

It's hard, and tiring, and frustrating.

But God is good.

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong; by no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward- to Jesus. I'm off and running and I'm not turning back.

Philippians 3:12-14

It's Not a Competition.

It's easier to get in the Christmas spirit with the air conditioner on.

We recognize the holiday season by listening to Christmas music in the apartment.

Everyone gets a turn to choose a song. Olga, me, Phil and repeat.

I went between Sufjan Stevens and that Straight no Chaser song, The 12 Days of Christmas.

Olga chose Puerto Rico Christmas music about how awesome Puerto Rico is.

Phil had an odd variety, Nat King Cole, The Jackson 5, Lady Gaga...

And then he decided to play God Bless America sung by Celine Dion.

He put his fist in the air and declared, AMERICA WINS.

There were also some claims about,

America invented Christmas!

Jesus was American!

And,

Celine Dion loves America.

All I'm saying, is that it isn't supposed to be 90 degrees outside during December.

You'd be crazy too.

Thy Will Be Done.

Sometimes the load is heavy, and sometimes the road is long. And sometimes, Lord, this heart of mine is not so strong. But thy will be done, Lord, thy will be done. Father, I do not ask you to take this cup from me. I only ask your guidance over paths I cannot see. And thy will be done, Lord, thy will be done.

Being an SM is hard.

I don't know how to explain that statement.

Sometimes I end the day feeling defeated, feeling unqualified and a little bruised, inside and out.

I struggle to keep the children listening, and productive. Often if feels like the only person learning, is me.

The mission is filled with wonderful people who offer nothing but support and love. I have found happiness, but I often find myself longing for something, more.

The relationships that mean the most to me are long distance.

Large spans of water separate us. And sometimes I wonder if I am just imaging something magical that doesn't exist.

I am connected through facebook, skype, e-mails. But sitting down to a conversation is hard when a million things are running through my head and stealing my heart.

Life is hard to explain, and I sometimes don't have the energy to try.

It's hard to be so far away.

I know I have chosen this life for myself, and even on days that are hard, I know I am blessed.

I read somewhere that maybe happiness is not found in the absence of problems but in the ability to deal with them.

My life is completely different than anything I have ever known.

Spending time in a country with such a great amount of hurt and need is teaching me what real struggle is.

I find myself needing more by myself time than I ever have. Time to think, write, and be still.

And I am beyond blessed by the friends at home who have read my e-mails, listened to my thoughts and feelings as I trudge through them. Spending time on the other side of the world very much shows who finds you important enough to try.

Being an SM is not always extraordinary. Sometimes the extraordinary comes through finding Jesus by your side every step of the way.

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see.

Hebrews 11:1

I'm working on faith. I'm working on letting the brokenness, the struggle be what it is.

I'm waiting for the light, because the sun will rise. It always does.

Now, Lord, I feel you near me, I feel your guiding power. And know you're standing by me through every passing hour. And thy will be done, Lord, thy will be done.

Looking Forward.

I think about the future a lot.

I think about graduating.

I think about camp next summer.

I think about going home in May.

I think about going to India in April.

I think about going to the beach in three weeks.

I think about getting my kids through the rest of the quarter.

I think about school tomorrow.

God has got it all planned.

Sometimes I get impatient and I just want it, the future, to be happening now

I want to be graduated so I can go out as a missionary again.

I want camp to start tomorrow!

I want to feel ready to go home when it comes time.

You get the point.

I don't know what God has planned.

He worked it out for me to be in the right place this year.

I have been blessed beyond measure, it's a my cup runneth over type situation. And I am excited to know where I will be led next.

On Sabbath the four of us SMs went out with Gary and Sharon [principal and husband] to floating villages two hours from Phnom Penh.

These communities are Vietnamese speaking little to no Khmer, rendering my small knowledge of Khmer useless.

They take everything from the water. It is their drinking water, bathing water, dish washing water, bathroom water.

We were asked to sing for special music after church had already started and like good little SMs we said yes.

It was mostly kids that came for the service and after church ended they all jumped into boats to paddle home. These tiny little kids! Oh my goodness.

A few kids stayed behind , including one beautiful little girl, who came up to me and put her arms around me. We hugged and spun in circles, and danced until we left. I've never been so sad to leave anyone.

As we were leaving one of the adults asked how old I was. I said twenty-one. And she replied with the one Vietnamese phrase that I know, very beautiful.

We visited another church and again we sang and Gary preached. It was quite warm and we hadn't eaten. We all had some trouble staying awake.

The third church of the day was at the home of the pastor we had been with all day. It was a twenty minute boat ride to his home. Through quite an extensive neighbor hood on the water. Not a lot of white visitors come through there and it was a little like being on parade, waving a little kids and grown men stopping their activities to watch us go by.

This church, like the first, was mostly kids. The pastor's wife had started a literacy program to teach the children to read Khmer, so they study during the week and come to church on Sabbath.

After church we sat down on the floor to eat. I scooted over to the large doorway and watched the water and the people go by. I thought about what life might be like to be a missionary here. Working with kids, struggling and growing right along with the people.

We've visited a lot of churches so far during my time here and we'll visit more. But I haven't connected with any of them like I did with this.

Maybe it was because it is so different from anything, maybe it's a calling.

Back in the truck on the way home, the boys were asleep in the back, and Olga and I were talking with Gary and Sharon about the day.
Gary mentioned that they have been thinking about submitting a call for an SM to come to the floating village and teach English.

And I wondered to myself, is this what You have planned?

As I look to the future, I wonder were I'll end up next.

I get impatient and I question every choice, every turn. I forget to surrender. I forget to breathe.

I want to graduate so I can go out again.
This I know.

It might mean a floating Vietnamese village in Cambodia, or the Muslims in the north, or even somewhere else in the world, but I'm ready.

I'm looking forward to service, I'm looking forward to LIFE.