Pam is back in Cambodia for a series of meetings to continue to develop her community health and outreach initiative. I am simply on March Break and tagging along because Phnom Penh is such a neat city and a nice break from KL. Yes, I know, it is a strange life when one calls getting out of Kuala Lumpur a break from the routine. I do recognize the irony.

Phnom Penh continues to surprise me each time I come here, which is about once a year. Pam talks about the improvements she sees on her frequent visits, but it is hard to gauge without actually being here. There is a median divider down the middle of the main road leading from the airport into town now, eliminating the always dangerous stream of traffic that used to flow over into the oncoming lane, and there is even an overpass on the busiest intersection. This main thoroughfare is now cleaner and more ordered than many Malaysian roads. Will wonders never cease!

We are staying in a nice little guest house in a part of town known locally as NGO-land. Most of Pam’s contacts and colleagues are close by, and it will give her an opportunity to check out some venues for next year’s conference held this year in Manila. Like most hotels in town, this one is under construction; expanding to meet the demand for the increasing number of tourists who are now flooding into Cambodia from all over the world, drawn by its fascinating history and unspoiled beaches and natural beauty.

Pam’s schedule is not so tight that she and I won’t get some time together. We just recently celebrated thirty-four years of marriage and you don’t get to say that unless you take time over the years to do things that you both enjoy together. Two of those things have always been a love for the wide diversity of peoples and cultures in this world, and a desire to help those who are less fortunate than ourselves have a chance to achieve some level of personal health, safety, success and peace. Hopefully this week we will have a chance to do both of these things.

Last night we took a walk down to Sisowath Quay to a really nice restaurant overlooking the Mekong and had a very pleasant time listening to some local music while we watched the Khmer fisherman ply their ancient boats along the water. Ocean going boats can travel up the Mekong as far as Phnom Penh, a distance of 550 kilometers, using the tidal surge from the ocean to assist them. Every six hours the river changes direction, now flowing out to the sea, making this a very dangerous stretch of the river, as the deaths of nine dragon boat rowers a few years ago proved.

This morning after a very nice latte and fruit salad for breakfast we went out to church at a small Anglican church around the corner and heard a very sound sermon preached by the Anglican minister of the International Church in Phnom Penh, Peter Warren. We invited a young German couple and their two small children for lunch afterward and chatted about Germany, missions and their hopes for ministry in Cambodia. Tomorrow Pam will get down to work in earnest and I will do some planning for my next unit on Drama. We are both looking forward to the week.

My worst mark in university was Art. I don’t even know why I took it, except for the fact that it was my third semester in a row and I had to cover six subjects in order to make up for one I’d had to drop in second semester as it was destroying my average. Ironically my Art mark did even worse damage, so it was a bad decision all around.

My dear departed father-in-law, aside from being the closest thing to a Christian saint that I have ever known, was also a pretty competent artist. His last few still-lifes were testimony to the growing development of an idiosyncratic style. His teapots had a Van Gogh-like sinuousness to them that I found very appealing. I will never approach his talent, and indeed have trouble with anything beyond a tedious replication of detail.

So I understand that when I announced to my classes that we would celebrate the conclusion of our study of Life of Pi by spending the day drawing illustrations for the book, some cheered, while others let out audible groans of dismay. However, Asian students are generally game for anything, and most tackled the assignment with enthusiasm. Some brought in snacks, I put on a little Norah Jones, and we eased into the March Break in a cheerful mood.

Life of Pi is a wonderful little book, full of wise insights into the human condition. We are not finished with it yet, as my students have to whip their three arguments into a second draft over the holiday. But we are done with the study, and I’d have to say that we are all a little wiser for the experience. If you haven’t yet read Yann Martell’s intriguing and many-layered story of survival, you are in for a rare reading treat.

Sidewalks are not just for walking, you can also:

Stephen Schwartz has been around a long time; long enough to have written music for Godspell, Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Enchanted and a dozen other successful stage and movie musicals. So when he decided to stage Gregory Maguire’s reinvisioning of The Wizard of Oz from the perspective of the two witches, the cognoscenti were agog with anticipation. They were not disappointed; Wicked has broken box office records all around the world. Eight years after its opening in New York the musical has finally arrived in Singapore, and last night we went to see it.

As far as our attendance at musicals go, it has been a long dry spell for both of us. We did see Chicago a couple of years back when it hit the cinemas, but the last live show we saw was Phantom of the Opera in Toronto as a present for our daughter’s thirteen birthday.

Phantom was great show, but plot-wise there really wasn’t much to the story. The Wizard of Oz, on the other hand, was already a great story. But once you start to add layers of plot nuance and character twist, as Schwartz does, it becomes a narrative feast. Add to that some delightfully whimsical costumes, a darkly rich set, some imaginative choreography and the music of arguably the best lyricist on the planet, and you have a spectacular show. We loved every lyrical minute.

We also loved the setting along the south side of Marina Bay. There is a fabulous new hotel there, The Sands, with its boat like upper deck, and lovely new mall on the ground levels with walkways and vistas of this increasingly beautiful city. We sat and soaked in the casual ambience for a while before we went for dinner at Sky 57.

Dinner was a hoot. We decided we would go for a sampling of the chef’s special courses and we agreed that we would split a portion as neither of us was particularly hungry. It is good thing we weren’t, for none of the courses would have satisfied the hunger of a three year old child. The potatoes that came with the lamb were particularly notable. They were cut so small that it would have taken a dozen or more to fill a teaspoon. Which would have been fine except the portion was less than that, perhaps five or six of these little things. Admittedly they were tasty. Briefly. The same could be said for the soup. It was delicious for the three spoonfuls they presented us in an enormously oversized bowl. And on it went. If it weren’t for the endless supply of rolls we would have both left hungry.

But I am being unkind. The service was lovely and the view of the city unmatched­­. The company was delightful and the occasion – Pam’s birthday – was special to both of us. We drank it all in, laughed as decorously as civility allowed at all the silly miniscule servings, and generally had a very happy time together. Oh yes. There was the matter of the gift. Perhaps Pam will have the opportunity to wear it sometime soon and you may see it for yourself!

First and foremost, I feel like an imposter because when I think about my age, I have to say that with the exception of a few aches and pains, I don’t feel much different than I did thirty years ago. The number of my birthday never much bothered me but I did get a real shock when our son turned thirty!  Me the mother of a 30 year old? Only then did I start to think about growing old.

What I have come to appreciate most about growing older, both in years and in my relationship with the Lord is that the more often I share the details of my life, the more I see His hand through it all. As I look back over the years, I am constantly reminded of the love of God, who orchestrated the events of my life, protected me and shaped me into the woman I am today.  I am so happy that God had a purpose for me and that He felt it worthwhile to carefully guide me through it.  I am saved by God’s amazing grace and wonderfully blessed to bear His name.

As much as I looked forward to being a Grandma, I was totally unprepared for the joy I felt the first time I held the child of my own child.  The love I feel for Ben, Abi and Eli is so different from parental love in that my only responsibility really is to love these children.  It is a love that is pure, with no strings attached and is not about what I should do for them or they for me. When my own Dad passed away, each of his grandchildren said the same thing: “No matter what, I knew Grandpa loved me and would always be there for me”.  Right now we are a half a world away from our grandkids and I miss them terribly and trust that this will not always be the case, but even on Skype they thrill my heart.

Over the last few years I have realized that I need to be more kind to myself, less critical and more accepting of the person that I am. I am trying to learn not to chide myself for the fact that I really am not able to sit through an entire movie, I know nothing about fashion and jewelry, I love to listen to music but can’t tell you who originally sang the song or who covered it, really don’t enjoy a massage or a mani-pedi and that is okay. I am entitled to a read all night, to listen to my favourite music, and dance when I want to.

If the Lord has taught me one thing above all else it is the importance of perseverance. Perseverance is defined as, “the steady persistence in adhering to a course of action, a belief, or a purpose; steadfastness.” People do not by nature persevere. Instead, as soon as something stops being easy, or fun or productive we have a tendency to want to move on. It takes perseverance to make a marriage work, keep it alive and growing deeper. I have learned that our marriage is a relationship of two sinners struggling with God and each other through events and experiences, striving to glorify God through the history that we are making together as we dedicate our times to Him.

We have a history together through marriage, labor and delivery, financial pressures, problems, failures, struggles, and joys. The events of our life together, good and bad, are a testimony to God’s working in our marriage.  God was there in the darkest moments of our marriage and in the happiest times and I love the history that we have built in our lives and in the lives of our children. To have a good marriage takes time; working through problems, enjoying special occasions, coming together in times of sorrow. You must decide to see God in the routine of your marriage. You must determine to persevere.

I can’t escape aging, and clearly I have fewer years ahead of me than behind. However, I want to be able to care for myself and hopefully still care for others for many years yet to come. My thoughts and my attitudes are mine to control and I think that the secret to aging well is to keep thinking young, staying involved in relationships, learning new things, helping others and being continually thankful. Preparation for aging begins early and needs to be intentional; the way you live now – the risks you take, the plans you make – is already determining how you will live out your retirement years.

Ten years from now I’d like to be a gentler, more caring and more knowledgeable person than I am today. I want to be more disciplined, to continue learning and exploring with an open and active mind as long as God allows. Yes, my physical body is failing and someday I am going to die; that is not easy to accept. But with this realization comes a greater freedom and a deeper connection to God. I want to live out whatever days I have left, seeking God, trusting and glorifying Him through humble service and continued prayer, and to encourage younger disciples so that one day I may hear my Father say to me, “Well done.”

Since my youth You have taught me, and to this day I declare Your marvelous deeds.  Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare Your power to the next generation, Your might to all who are to come.

 Psalm 71:17-18

I had the privilege of spending this past weekend in Singapore, getting caught up with old friends and new.  Marli Spieker, the Global Ministry Director and founder  of Project Hannah was there as part of a tour of several countries in the region.  We spent many fruitful hours talking about the accomplishments, hopes, dreams and prayers for the women whose lives are impacted through the broadcasts, prayer calendar, mercy ministries and the awareness of the issues that this important ministry brings.

My friend Serene, who heads up the Women’s Ministry Team in Singapore, was also able to join us for tea and discussions about future plans for the work in SE Asia.  We had a wonderfully encouraging time together and left with some research and planning to do before we meet up again in the US in May.  Please pray with me for Marli and Serene, for safety and wonderful meetings with co-workers and listeners as they travel together over the next few weeks.

The most enjoyable part of any trip to Singapore, is a visit in the home of our friends Blossom and McDaniel and some home made apple pie doesn’t hurt either.  They are currently hosting new appointees, Daryl and Gaynelle who have just arrived to assume the position of Director of the Asia Resource Center.  I was very happy for the chance to get to know them and to establish a working relationship with them.

There are always IT issues that need to be addressed so I was very grateful for the help of the IT guys  so I can finally access the global resources available on line. There are many changes in the leadership structure and the roles of some of the staff which I was able to get caught up on in the office on Monday.

 

With Daryl now on board, the new leadership team is complete and very much in need of prayer as they plan for the future of TWR in South and SE Asia.  Although both Andrew and Freddy have a long history in TWR, they have each taken on completely new areas of responsibility with some significant challenges ahead.

One of the great joys of this past year was reconnecting with Rosalind, my cousin, who did us the honour of traveling all the way from the south of England for our daughter’s wedding. Shortly after her return to England she was struck with labyrinthis and was unable to work for a time. A devout and deeply committed Christian, she struggled to make sense of her illness, and the Lord’s purpose in it. I have asked her permission to print her her reflections on that journey through her illness in order to encourage those who are going through physical trials that tax their spirit and sap their strength. This is her story:

Labyrinthitis.  Ten weeks ago, I’d never heard of it.  I’m now in the eleventh week of living through it, knowing it intimately.  As intimately as God knows me. Day after day, needing to be well and get back to work, I awoke giddy, sick, and fatigued.  I wanted to get on with my life, but all I could do was rest.  Without rest, the virus directly triggers ME, which would mean a long illness.  And I already knew of someone who’d had labyrinthitis for ten months.

Rest.  Sounds enviable? Yes, but not when you lose interest in everything – television, dvds, music, knitting, needlepoint, writing, reading, cooking – are too ill to go for a walk, and are not allowed to drive.  

Usually, I’m a very busy person.  Doing nothing, feeling useless and often tearful because of the virus, gave me a revealing glimpse of old age.  I couldn’t use my skills.  I felt a burden to those around me.  Isolated.  Purposeless.  Futile.  Each day seemed endless, yet passed far too fast.  All that wasted time – days of my life – slipping past, out of my reach, beyond my ability to use to the full.

Such emptiness forced me to reflect.  Events I’d resolved and forgotten surfaced from my past.  With nothing else to do, I dwelt on them, and became convicted of my unworthiness and sinfulness.  Incidents, words, thoughts, that at the time hadn’t seemed particularly regrettable, let alone sinful, revealed themselves in all their ugliness and horror.  How could I have done such things?   They weren’t trivial, but unacceptable to God.  Why hadn’t I been kinder, more thoughtful, less self-centred, better for God, and more reflective of His beauty and grace?  I loathed myself, and repented, over and over before Him, of all these unwitting errors.  Things left undone; other things not done well enough.  Even things I’d long ago received forgiveness for, I was pricked by as if they’d only just happened.

I was so sorry, and so unworthy.

Into this desolation our Father came, with love and comfort.  As I sat in forced idleness, feeling giddy and unbalanced and sick, I felt Him very near.  He revealed himself in a beautiful, intense, loving, comforting presence, which never left me.  He dwelt in me, and – most precious! – I was allowed to dwell deeply in Him, drawn unimaginably close.    

Then, one morning, repenting again of a sin, I had an astonishing revelation.  I no longer needed to repent of it.  My Father had made me new.  The person I had become, through His grace, had been totally forgiven.  The past belonged to the “old Rosalind”.  My sense of forgiveness and renewal was so strong it was as if the old me was sitting at my side, separate from the new me that God had brought into being.

The more loathsome my state, the more precious His love.  How gracious a God – so great, so lovely, so pure – to see worthiness in me!   Grim weeks of illness were being turned into a wonderful opportunity to know Him more and more.  Now there was a glowing jewel embedded in my dull days: His companionship, understanding, and overwhelming love.

During my walk with God, two things have been difficult to understand.  His love for me (I had a loving father who routinely abused me physically) and the idea of Him having a plan for me.  His love, His care, His passion for relationship, became abundantly obvious.  I felt loved as never before and, at last, I was able to accept His love fully, knowing I was made new in Him.

As for God’s plan: that, too, became clear.  I could see it mapped out for me in the significant events of the past few years, in the illness that claimed my present, and in His promise for my future.  Our Pastor once said, “Lay hold of God – and he’ll lay hold of you” – a truth I have experienced more than once.  But the way God laid hold of me this time, revealing His plan, was astonishingly powerful and absolute.  I personally discovered that when He decides to do something, no-one, nothing, will stop him.  Feeling His resolute force in my small life would have been terrifying if it hadn’t been so marvellous, awe-inspiring, exciting.

The time of illness showed me something else.  We are all too busy.  We know it, as we awake each morning – with God, but powerless, most of us, to resist the pressures, stresses, treadmills, of work and daily routine.  Every day, confronted by people’s expectations, we push ourselves further, or are forced into exhausting, spiritually draining busyness.  Not many of us have the leisure and tranquillity to meet Him as totally as we aspire or long to, every day of our lives.  We’re tired; we’re worried; our minds are churning with all the things we need to remember for the day ahead, or the next day, in which there is never enough time or energy.

God grieves that our lives, in this society, are so overwhelmed with worldly demands and concerns.  He wants to lead us by still waters, to restore our souls, and our understanding, love, and knowledge of Him.  He is there, at our elbow, even in front of us, waiting.  Our God, our heavenly Father, has to wait in our world, for us to see Him.  He wants us to recognise him, in all his beauty and majesty – and in the humility that sent Him to earth as one of us.  He loves us.  He yearns to know us all, individually, as fully as possible.

We need to struggle against the things that prevent us from dwelling in Him, and Him from dwelling in us.  He is our priority.  How can we make more time for Him? Trust Him.  Nothing can stop God’s work in our lives.  We may not always understand, but we can always trust. By opening ourselves to Him in total trust, we can find Him.  The more we open, the more He can lay hold of us, and help us to lay hold of Him.  Trusting in Him, we dwell in Him.

All aspects of life are lived out in the presence of God, who cares about every one. Realising that the whole of life belongs to God is essential if we are to serve him effectively.  Give every aspect of your life to God, praying that you may experience his presence in it all. The blessedness of God is waiting for us, even in the dark days of our lives. Whether we can see Him or not, he is there: He sees us.  He freely offers us forgiveness, redemption, the chance to renew ourselves in Him, to consecrate ourselves to Him.  Let’s pray to Him to open our eyes to His presence!

 

 

Coffee Bean, Sunway Pyramid: This might be one of my favourite spots in Subang Jaya, where we live. It has a nice view of the mall and the skating rink and is both spacious and protected. I can see the world going by without being obtrusive. It has comfortable chairs, internet access and electrical outlets to keep my computer charged while I am working. There is a clean washroom close enough that I can leave my stuff at the table for a minute without having to wrap everything up. The soy lattes are the best in Asia and I can sit all day for the cost of one, which is about four bucks. It also gets me out of the apartment, which although is undoubtedly ‘cosy,’ can seem a little confining at times. What is not to like?

There is never anything that my allergy regime will let me eat in such places, so I always carry a couple of allergy-friendly granola bars. Although I miss Pam (she is in Singapore meeting with her head of mission), I recognize that she does not have the patience to just sit in such places for extended periods of time. She would be off ‘shopping,’ which for her – as she spends very little money – simply means cruising the mall until I feel inclined to leave. So there is always the pressure of knowing that she wants to be somewhere else.  When I am by myself I can dawdle as much as I like, which given the daily pressure to perform that I am under, pleases me a great deal. I like to dawdle; it is how I decompress.

People underestimate the value of dawdling; of downtime. This is when the mind, heart and spirit bind the many multicoloured experiences of the past days or weeks into a coherent whole. Socrates – if he in fact lived and wasn’t simply a philosophical/literary construct in Plato’s Dialogues – said that an unexamined life is not worth living. Erik Erikson in Identity and the Life Cycle said that integrity or despair were the two alternative outcomes at the end stage of life. I prefer to work on integrating my personality, rather than wallowing in despair, and value the time to examine what I am doing and “knit up th’unraveled sleeve of care” in order to make sense of this crazy life. Chilling at the Coffee Bean does that for me.

Along with blogging the experience, I am also charging my camera, reading in my Kindle, browsing news sites on my laptop and absorbing the ambience of one of Kuala Lumpur’s busiest malls on a crowded Sunday. The sheer scope of ethnic diversity in such a place is cause enough for several hours of reflection. I find the noise and bustle more of a shield than a distraction, one that allows me to drift through the deitrus of a distracted week and find some order in the chaos. It may look like I am vegetating, but I am actually cogitating. I would welcome your company, provided you allowed me time to reflect. Soy latte, anyone?

One of my colleagues at Taylor’s conducted a toy drive at Christmas. The response was overwhelming; in fact so much material was collected that even after all the good stuff had been distributed to the refugee centers that we help support, the staff room has been stocked with the overflow. Last week I bundled up all the excess items and took them off to our church’s outlet in a nearby neighbourhood. It was an unexpectedly humbling experience.

USJ, or Utama Subang Jaya, is the district right beside our own. There are some nicer homes and a good restaurant quarter, but beyond that not much to offer. However, in behind the main street and out of view of the travelling public is a seedy and rundown part of town. The condos are essentially tenement slums, overwhelmingly Muslim, and desperately poor. Washing – if such tatty rags can be considered clothes at all – hung from hundreds of balconies. On the broken asphalt dozens of children – all covered in the stifling dress that is required for religious conformity – played with sticks and deflated balls among the refuse. We don’t often get into such places in our neighbourhood, and it was a stark reminder of the daily reality for many Malaysians. It is to such people that the current government appeals when it trots out its ‘Malays First’ policy that ensures the survival of its regime in the face of the forces of accountability and modernity.

In the heart of this urban jungle is a Christian mission; the only compassionate feature in the midst of acres of squalor. Of course it dare not call itself Christian; that would be an offense to the ideologues that rule this country, so it has to adopt the simple sobriquet ‘J** Station.’ Even within this broken community itself there is opposition to the good it does. M**, who runs the mission with the self-effacing humility that is characteristic of the Asian Christian community, warned me not to park too close to the shop front to offload the donations I had brought, otherwise my car would be hit with the bottles that are routinely thrown at the vehicles that park there by residents above.

This did not keep many hands from helping me to offload my donations once I had found a safe place to park. Nor did it keep the residents who visit the shop regularly from coming out to greet me with their shy smiles of gratitude. I was embarrassed by the meager goods I had to donate in the light of such a visible abundance of need. In addition to distributing goods to the families that live in the tenement – divorced and single-parent families pay nothing, others pay a nominal fee – the mission will also pay the rent for needy families that cannot afford to do so themselves. They also pay for medical and dental treatment for the children of such families, and seek to sponsor students at better schools if one of their children show academic promise. All of this good work is paid for by the tithes and offerings of our church, a church that was recently raided by the religious police for daring to sponsor a community lunch which sought to honour those in the community who were seeking to bring relief to the poor, regardless of religious affiliation.

The ironies and injustices of this country abound. But beyond all the persecution of the entrenched elite and the arrogance and sometimes outright hostility of those who condemn all who profess a faith in the Divine, the Christian church in this country caries out a campaign of compassion to all, regardless of race or religion. Normally I shrink from even oblique contempt for my faith. To witness the perseverance and dedication of the Christians in this country, who face daily persecution in the service of the poor and needy, is a salutary exercise in humility, and one that my Westernized and overly timid soul needs to expose itself to more frequently.

My co-worker, Sharon wrote an update on our community visits for their prayer supporters that captures our experience very well so I will share it here.

“The theme of the conference in Manila was, ‘Challenges of the City and the Urban Poor’ and the use of Asset Based Community Development, which is based on looking first at the assets rather than the needs. All 50 of us went into the slums where CHE is actively making an impact, even in the community living on the garbage dump. We found resourceful, resilient people able to salvage and make incomes and build homes from anything (even make them “cute” as one woman described the shack she lives in!).

“We met and were welcomed into the homes of CHE trainers dedicated to teaching lessons faithfully every week, and Christians living joyfully and reaching out to their neighbours. A pastor living next to his church in the dump site told us how he managed to put two kids through university on proceeds from picking through garbage. We observed people living simply but using their skills to provide for their families, and mothers learning how to care for children in very unhygienic conditions through the CHE process.

“I was particularly fascinated by CHE volunteers working with TB-DOTS (Direct Observation and Treatment Strategy). They visit with their neighbours and watch for people exhibiting TB symptoms, accompany them to the clinic for testing and if positive, the volunteer functions as the TB treatment partner to get them to take their full course of treatment. In order to do this, the CHE delivers the medication to the home each day and accompanies the patient for follow-up testing for at least six months. Now that is a volunteer commitment to speak about.”

From my own perspective what we saw in these poor communities helped us to better understand our morning Bible study from Isaiah 61 and to put our own work into perspective. Isaiah states that those whom the Lord liberates will re-build the broken cities, not us. In Manilla we observed glimpses of that possibility, enough for all of us to leave with a different perspective on the “poor”!

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