Searching for the sea

Outside the Pen
Books and Hurricanes

Outside the Pen

“So I guess after 10 years of working as a missionary, you feel you’ve put in enough time for God, huh?  You’re not going to continue ministry?”  My friend’s words at the mission potluck caught me off guard.  I didn’t know what to tell him.  I had just told him of my plans to become a massage therapist after returning to the states.  Why did he think I wanted to give up ministry?  Quitting because I’d put in enough time for God?  I had never thought of working for God like that.  His words hurt.  With my mind whirling, I turned away to help my son, Keenan, balance his plate of food on his lap.  I desperately needed time to think.  I asked Keenan which food he liked best and pretended to help him take a bite.

I waited as long as I dared and then slowly turned back to my friend.  Taking a deep breath I began, “Well, I guess I don’t feel like I’m giving up ministry.  You are right in the fact that I won’t be ministering to people in the church as a pastor.  Working as a pastor is what everyone expects me to do because I studied theology in college.  But after a decade of ministering to people outside the church here in Cambodia I feel God wants me to do the same in America.  If I return as a pastor, I will minister only to those in the church.  That will be my predominant task at least.  But my heart is with those outside the walls of any church.  Some are there because they’ve been hurt by those in the church.  Some are there because they can’t believe in the god the church preaches about.  Some are there because their questions have not been answered by the church.  Some are there because they think God cannot and should not be contained in a church.  But regardless of the reasons they are not in church, they are God’s children.  God made them just like he made those in the church.  And he is always with them.  His command, “Go into all the earth,” rings in my ears every day.  Certainly he’s talking about beyond the walls of the church.  I believe God has called me to ministry – ministry to those not in a church.  Jesus said, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor, but sick people do….I didn’t come to invite good people to be my followers.  I came to invite sinners” Matt. 9:12-13.

“Yeah, okay.  I see,” nodded my friend.  But I wondered if he did.  Why have we made ministry something only a pastor does?  Why have we made ministry something only a pastor does in or from the church?  Why have we made ministry something only a pastor does, in or from the church, with those who already know God?  Shouldn’t “ministry” include serving those who don’t think like us, look like us, or smell like us?  And does a minister of the gospel have to be employed by the church?  Jesus wasn’t employed by the church.  Neither was Peter or John or James.  So if fishermen can fish for men, can’t a massage therapist touch people for the gospel?

As a pastor, by definition, I would care for the flock in a pen.  That’s an important role and one many are called to.  But the Good Shepherd said, “I have other sheep that aren’t in the sheep pen.  I must bring them together too, when they hear my voice.  Then there will be one flock of sheep and one shepherd” John 10:16.  At the bidding of the Good Shepherd, I came to Cambodia over 10 years ago.  He led me to his sheep not in his sheep pen.  At first I didn’t recognize them because they looked so different from me.  But now I see that all along they too have been his sheep and he has been their Shepherd.  Now the Good Shepherd is bidding me return to America.  There too, I believe, are many sheep that belong to God but are not in a sheep pen.  I want to find those sheep.  I want to understand those sheep.  I want to spend most of my time with those sheep. And standing in their world, seeing through their eyes, I want to ask the Good Shepherd to show them Good News.  For He is the Shepherd of us all.

Books and Hurricanes

This morning I road in Savouen’s tuk tuk through hectic Phnom Penh traffic to a place we’ve chosen to print the Bible story books.  There, to my joy, I found 19 boxes of shiny new books waiting for me.  Nine of the boxes contained New Testament Bible story books of which I’ve never seen.  They are beautiful!  The Pnong Bible Story Book Project is complete!

Over a decade ago when I first arrived in this country the Pnong people didn’t even have a written language.  By the grace of God Johanna and I entered the Pnong world, we learned to speak the Pnong language, we learned to see through the lens of the Pnong worldview, we learned to write and type the new Pnong written language, and we produced 8 Bible story books with 88 Bible stories in the Pnong written language, complete with beautiful illustrations.  And a few hours ago I held the entire Bible story set in my hands for the first time.

I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.  In one way or another we have been working toward this goal for more than 11 years.  And to see the books finally finished is a dream come true.  But somehow I felt like crying also.  Two young men from the copy shop silently carried the boxes of books out to the tuk tuk.  No one cheered.  There was no applause.  No one shook my hand or patted me on the back.  Yet the boxes they carried tugged at my heart.  They held a decade of my life – gone.  Each one of the thousands of pages represented hours and hours of difficult work, days and days of struggling on, months and months of sickness and darkness, and years and years of just trying to survive away from family and friends.

As I sit here writing, in a quiet apartment at ADRA, I long to be part of community.  When I cry I wish I could cry with others.  When I laugh I long to laugh with others.  And when I rejoice, like today with the books, I long to rejoice with others.  Now, just three weeks and two days from leaving Cambodia and returning to the states, I think that’s what I’m most excited about – being part of community again.

The past month has been a whirlwind for us.  We’ve been trying to finish the books, pack up all our belongings, and sell or give away anything we’re not taking back to America.  This past week, while waiting for the books, has been a tremendous blessing to us.  We’ve taken a few days of vacation to just look into each other’s eyes and enjoy the last few moments of life in Cambodia.  We took the kids to the beach over the weekend and came back to the water park on Tuesday.  The boys and I have spent more time with Johanna’s growing belly.  We sing to the little one inside, talk to him, and just tell him we love him.  Of course he could be a she.  But that’s what makes it fun.  We don’t know who waits inside.  But we do know the little one is part of our family and will join us soon.

The next three weeks will also be a whirlwind.  We plan to return Mondulkiri the beginning of next week.  We’ll have a few days to deliver the rest of our furniture to the different people who purchased it.  We hope to pack up the last cases we plan to take home with us.  And then we’ll have to give away everything that remains or hall it to the trash.

On October 7 a student missionary arrives from AFM.  It will be his job to film a documentary of our project in just a little over a week.  We are extremely excited about this documentary.  We hope our story, in film, will bless thousands of people with what God has done over the last decade among the Pnong.  But the timing is off.  Trying to make a documentary during the last few weeks of living in the country will be a serious challenge.  There will be so many other things to do, so many other people to say goodbye to, and so many other things to think about.  Yes, a whirlwind (or should I say a hurricane) is bearing down upon us.  Yet somehow, in the midst of it, we will need to find time to sit with our Pnong friends for the last time and listen to their hearts.  For no matter how many projects we operate, no matter how many books we print, no matter how many documentaries we make, sitting with these people is why we came.  Please pray for us during these last few weeks in Cambodia.

Braden