Lord make me an instrument of your peace
Where there is hatred let me sow love
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith
Where there is despair, hope
Where there is darkness, light
And where there is sadness, joy
O divine master grant that I may
not so much seek to be consoled as to console
to be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love
For it is in giving that we receive
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned
And it’s in dying that we are born to eternal life
Amen
I have tried so many times to sit down and start writing this and had no clue how to get it started or how I wanted it to be written. Did I want this post to be a letter to all my readers? A letter to the country of Cambodia? A chronological travel diary? A journal entry? I have sat, questioning the end result, not knowing what words to put on the page, before closing the document altogether. But finally, after almost a month of being back home, I decided that the best option is to just begin.
Beginnings are funny because they are what set up the story and put things in motion. But there are those stories, maybe in the movies you watch or the books that you read, that begin with the punch line, the middle of the story, sometimes even the ending and then the story will backtrack. Or there are the stories with multiple beginnings because there are multiple characters or multiple beginnings in a character’s life. I think that’s where I am and have chosen to begin here with the Peace Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi. This prayer has become so significant in my life in more ways than I can even explain as a sort of beginning to this story, but I’ll loop back around to it once I give some details about the trip.
First and foremost, this trip was life-changing. I almost hate to use that word for many reasons. 1) It has become so overused and cliché it almost has no meaning, 2) I don’t want to be that person that’s like “omg I went to this foreign country for 2 weeks and it completely changed my life and, 3) I believe that every experience ever that a person has can change their life in some way or another just by the bare definition of the term. But I digress. This trip did, in fact, change my life as it made me look at the idea of purpose so much more. Purpose is a word meaning “the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists” and as a verb, “to have as one’s intention or objective”. Purpose is something giving to everyone at the beginning of their time, whether it be by God, as I choose to believe, or simply by life itself. But we struggle to find this purpose and that is how our stories unfold—the journey to finding this purpose in synchronic timing with the changes in our life. I am by no means implying that on this trip I found my purpose, but, I thought a lot about it and kept being drawn to the stories of others and deciphering what God gave as each individuals’ purpose. Again, I will loop back to this thought but I think some much-needed background info on the trip itself is important here.
My group from LMU’s Campus Ministry’s Ignacio Companion Trip Program spent 2 weeks in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. We spent time at New Hope for Cambodian Children, an orphanage about 40 minutes outside the city that has a majority of children affected by HIV/AIDS. There were so many people that we had the pleasure of encountering during our time here. First, there was John and Kathy Tucker, the founders of our amazing host organization who found themselves dedicating their lives to moving halfway across the world, simple living, helping these children, and loving the Lord. And so then, there are the children. During our 2 weeks, we were placed into different classrooms at the school on site and essentially were teacher’s assistants in our respective classes. I was placed in one of the 6th-grade classes and had the most challenging yet wonderful group of students. All the kids were little rays of God’s light and love and I enjoyed my time working with them. There were some that I bonded and played with more than others and from and through them was taught so many life lessons. Some of the kids had the most heartbreaking backstories—being orphaned and falling ill at young ages, still struggling to remain well, who have found themselves in the hands of NHCC, all with a fighting heart and giant smile across their face. And some had stories yet to unfold but that could be foreseen as quite dangerous due to the corruption, prostitution, and brokenness that remains in Cambodia. And all the while, a large majority of them are fighting HIV/AIDS, something you would never be able to tell from their exterior. And then there were the teachers who worked and taught at NHCC. They each had a story of how they came to find and know NHCC, coming from all over the world from various backgrounds of education to somehow finding themselves in Southeast Asia, teaching various classes at an orphanage, 40 minutes outside the city of Phnom Penh in Cambodia. And then there were the volunteers who came through from various countries for months or weeks or even just a few days during their gap years, periods of vacationing, or dedicated times of service. They each spoke different tongues, practiced different cultures, were of different ages, but yet somehow found themselves, just as my group did, in Southeast Asia at an orphanage, 40 minutes outside of Phnom Penh in Cambodia. What a crazy thought.
In addition to working at the orphanage, we visited a Jesuit center called Banteay Prieb. This community contained individuals from various villages in Cambodia that had physical and mental disabilities. Many of the individuals that have a physical disability were affected by the aftermath of the Vietnam War and Khmer Rouge in Cambodia because there are still land mines in the earth in the rural areas that can be accidentally stepped on and go off. Because they are disabled, many of them cannot work in their villages. At Banteay Prieb, these individuals are given the chance to choose a trade to learn and become skilled in despite their disability and are given the opportunity to go into the workforce. My group was able to meet the Jesuits and many of the volunteers at Banteay Prieb who, again, come from various places and cultures around the globe, speak various languages and are of different ages, yet have all found themselves at a Jesuit Center in Southeast Asia, 30 minutes outside of Phnom Penh in Cambodia. You can’t make this stuff up.
We were also able to explore other parts of the city and of Cambodia during our 2 weeks to further educate ourselves on the history of this country. We did day trips to the Killing Fields and the S-21 prison in Phnom Penh from the Khmer Rouge times as well as flew to Siem Reap to visit Angkor Wat, the largest religious monument in the world, built in the 12th century during the time the country was converting from Hinduism to Buddhism, and the other temples within the ancient city of Angkor. We went to the markets, mass, and many other small spots in town throughout our 2 weeks but I’ll spare you all the details or this will be 10 pages long. The point is, we had a fulfilling 2 weeks of activities and adventures, and while those memories will be long-standing, its the messages received and lessons learned that I continue to reflect on now, a month later, and hopefully will for much longer.
So now, as promised, I will bring it back to purpose. The google definition example sentence for the word purpose provides, “God has allowed suffering, even purposed it”. I find this example sentence so fitting for the trip I experienced. There is and has been so much suffering in Cambodia. This country is still recovering from its most tragic, bloody, and heartbreaking times from the reign of the Khmer Rouge. I encourage you to do some research on the history of this magnificent country to educate yourself on the issue. But from what I know, and what I have seen from traveling there, the country and its people have suffered and many still do. But within this suffering, there is a strength. There is resilience in the people and the communities and spirits witnessed in the eyes of those encountered that continue to grow despite the suffering. I see that God purposed much of this suffering in order to open the eyes of individuals such as myself as well as to build the individuals of Cambodia who showed me their strength, love, and purpose. The kids at the orphanage suffer through one of the worst illnesses, yet they love greater than anyone I have ever met. The second we arrived at the orphanage, the kids wanted to know my name and wanted me to learn theirs as they climbed all over us, gave us hugs, and invited us to play with them on the playground. While God purposed this illness, He also purposed their joy and light to coincide with it. There are countless other examples that I could provide to continue to explain the suffering that I learned about and encountered, but there are even more examples of joy, hope, love, community, and strength.
I also had a chance to think a lot about my purpose because of this trip. As I mentioned, I encountered dozens of people all with different backgrounds, career aspirations, educations, lifestyles, and stories to tell that somehow could explain how we all ended up where we were at the same time, in Southeast Asia, in the beautiful country of Cambodia, in the city of Phnom Penh encountering one another. I talked a lot with some of my friends on the trip about our futures. Our career goals, personal endeavors, etc. Through these conversations and encounters, I reflected on my personal story and the purpose intended for me. There are many things I want to accomplish in my life and many paths I want to follow. And along the way, there are many gifts I will receive. This trip was one of them. And this trip helped me to realize that. In my first 2 years of college, I have already received so many wonderful blessings and I know I will continue to do so. What I have come to terms with is that I will be gifted so much along my purposeful journey that it is also my calling to give in return. Whether that be through a job in PR, work with nonprofits, a year of post-grad service, etc. These are the paths I want to explore and have conversations about with myself and others. These are the things for which I feel called and purposed to do. And Cambodia opened my eyes to this and required me to reflect on what story of mine is going to unfold. I don’t have it all figured out—this trip was not some big revelation—but I now feel more equipped to begin to.
Finally, let me go back to the beginning of this blog post and try to explain the beginnings of this story. My first story begins when I was born. But no need to go that far back other than to address the fact that that’s when I was born with my purpose in the image of God. Another story begins when I was born into the Catholic church. I do not remember my baptism but I have the memories of the confirmation process that led up to my reluctant Confirmation in the church. Then there’s a story that begins and ends and struggles and begins again. That’s the story of my faith. And that’s the story for which Cambodia began as well as forever changed. See, I was born and raised Catholic. Much of my upbringing was me just blindly following my father who took my siblings and me to mass every Sunday and my mother who would take us to School of Religion classes every week. Around high school, I began to understand just how much faith can be put into your own hands and then somehow slip right out of them, fall to the floor, and break. This occurred when I lost my older brother during my senior year of high school. For a good portion of my grief period, I rejected any sort of God. After a while, I slowly but surely sort of found some connection again but only in the form of comfort. It was comfortable to have something or someone to believe in that could be with my brother when I no longer could. But still, I was lost. And for the past year, I have felt this way. No connection to my brother=no connection to God.
Right before going on my trip to Cambodia, I visited my brother’s grave for the first time in almost a year. I sat and cried with him for over an hour. I was on my way out when I spotted something engraved on the backing of the bench we had put in at his gravesite. I read the words, and I broke again. The words were as follows:
Lord make me an instrument of your peace
Where there is hatred let me sow love
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith
Where there is despair, hope
Where there is darkness, light
And where there is sadness, joy
O divine master grant that I may
not so much seek to be consoled as to console
to be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love
For it is in giving that we receive
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned
And it’s in dying that we are born to eternal life
Amen
These were the words my family chose to honor my brother and in return, these were the words He intended for me. I immediately went home and wrote this prayer in my journal that I would be taking to Cambodia for I wanted to continue pray on this. And then all throughout my journey through Cambodia, I found meaning in what these words were saying. For I saw the brokenness and despair of Cambodia, but I saw the hope. I saw those in darkness or sadness, but I saw their light and joy. I found myself seeking to understand the people. I found myself loving the kids more than I could ever feel loved. I found my role as a student leader of the trip to console those as I can. I found myself wanting to give because I have received. And then one day, I really found myself doubting, hitting a low, not knowing why what happens does happen, questioning everything, not believing, and feeling grief. Then, in a moment indescribable, I felt myself completely release and let go of the parts of me that felt this way, and then I opened my eyes and was renewed. For it’s in dying, that we are born to eternal life. I had found faith. And then, I began to understand. I began to feel. I began to connect. I began to cry. I began to believe. And so, I began again.
I could try to describe to you the exact moment on the trip, standing at the very center and highest point of Angkor Wat, looking out, feeling the breeze and the sun, closing my eyes, and then seeing an image of God…and my brother, walking towards me……..but how many of you would believe me? I understand now, as I begin anew in this journey of faith and journey of myself, it only matters that when I opened my eyes again that I believed, and that I saw, and that I was at peace.
There are so many more details to the story but essentially, I have since rededicated myself to the Lord in a way that I never ever have, even before the loss of my brother. My faith is stronger than it has ever been. I feel new and rebirthed in Christ. And I’m so proud and excited for that. And so that is why beginnings are funny. Because where do we draw the line of what a beginning really is and where one really starts? Does this story truly begin way back when I was born? Does it begin at the gravesite? At Angkor Wat? I surely do not know, so I guess I will let you be the judge of that.
Cambodia, you changed me. You made a new me. You tested me and strengthened me. And so I thank you. Thank you for 2 weeks of the highest of highs and lowest of lows I have ever experienced. You were full of heartbreak, joy, tears, sweat, pain, laughter, and love. Thank you for the most hilarious group, an incredible co, the brightest of kids at NHCC, encounter, patience, openness, community, and unconditional love and hope. From playing in the rain to the van breaking down on side of the road, the breathtaking beauty of Angkor Wat to the constant search for the best iced coffee. There is still so much that I have to process, but this trip has truly made a life-changing impact that I am fortunate to have experienced halfway through my college career. May I never forget all the emotion this experience brought me but may I never have to be as damp as I was during those 2 weeks. Until we can begin again, much love always.
2 Comments