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What It Means To Be A Missionary — Rachel’s Discovery on the Streets of Phnom Penh

That’s the hardest part of being a missionary. You are there to change reality, to change eternity, but you will never be able to fully grasp other people’s reality. Because it isn’t your reality.

I tried to come to grips with that as I sat on the cold tile floor of a Cambodian home. Eight of us sat cross legged on the floor as we crammed inside a twelve by twelve home. Inside the home lived a grandmother and her granddaughter. The granddaughter was an orphan and the grandmother was fighting to make enough money to pay the bills.

Simple Obedience Changes History

With stacks of blue New Testaments in hand we followed three Thai men across the asphalt parking lot. They wore button down shirts and modern day apostles. They lived life with few hesitations. They prayed for almost everyone they met, shared Christ freely, and gave generously. But at that moment I didn’t know any of this about them yet. I just knew we were handing out Bibles.

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Behind Thailand’s Red Lights

As I walked down the dusty streets my mind raced. I wove my way through vendors hawking paintings of elephants, colorful bracelets, silk scarves, and carved soap. A sungtow rumbled past us, seeking someone to chauffeur to unknown destinations. We turned down an alley filled with loud shouting and the deafening thump of dance music. The colors faded from the soft glow of streetlights to bright neon strobe lights and discos. And vendors were no longer selling bracelets and soap. They were selling women.

I Was A Stranger And You Invited Me In

“When we hold bitterness in our hearts, it destroys us,” I said. “We have to learn to forgive people no matter how badly they hurt us.” My gaze traveled across the weathered faces of the villagers. For a moment, my eyes connected with Pastor Nathan’s. All week, he had taken us from village to village across his home country of …

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What happens when you forgive

“When we hold bitterness in our hearts, it destroys us,” I said. “We have to learn to forgive people no matter how badly they hurt us.” My gaze traveled across the weathered faces of the villagers. For a moment, my eyes connected with Pastor Nathan’s. All week, he had taken us from village to village across his home country of …

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Hope Among the Lepers

We pulled up to the leper colony just as the sun slipped behind a cluster of rundown buildings. I climbed out of the van and followed our guide down an alley that wove past small homes. The guide paused at a home with a white door. “Hello,” he called in the native dialect. “We’re here to pray for people. Can …