There's this myth that missionaries are super-Christians, the cream of the spiritual crop. They pray all the time. Their faith never falters, their patience never runs out, their joy never dims. They love and give and serve like there's no tomorrow. They haven't sinned since that time they pinched their little brother, back in first grade.
Ordinary people never become missionaries, right? Wrong. Super-Christians don't even exist. Instead, it's a simple equation:
ordinary person + extraordinary situation = "fight or flight"
When you hit trouble, either you fight to grow closer to God, or you book the next flight home.
As a Christian of the decidedly non-super variety, I was quickly bowled over by the diverse challenges of life here, some of which didn't sound like a big deal but threatened to drive me insane. A stapler with no staples that fit. Cheap pens that didn't write well. Ants.
I had to work on "praying without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians 5:16), even about this little stuff, to make it through the day. (Eventually I got practical help with some things - I now have a functioning stapler and know which brands of pens to look for - but some sources of frustration are ever-present.) On the other hand, I've also learned to value things that I'd previously underestimated.
I had to work on "praying without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians 5:16), even about this little stuff, to make it through the day. (Eventually I got practical help with some things - I now have a functioning stapler and know which brands of pens to look for - but some sources of frustration are ever-present.) On the other hand, I've also learned to value things that I'd previously underestimated.
Here are other prayers that I don't remember praying before Cambodia, but that I repeat quite frequently nowadays:
1. Guide my key. The padlock to our front gate is rusty (this happens every rainy season) to the extent that my key got bent trying to wrestle the padlock open. My housemate taught me this prayer, à la Princess Bride, when Inigo Montoya prays to his father to "guide my sword."
2. Thank You for bananas. I don't think it's an accident that bananas are plentiful and cheap in the same tropical climates where bacteria and stomach critters flourish. They and the rest of the BRAT diet - rice and toast (maybe not the applesauce) are so readily available here. Often on days with stomach trouble, I've arrived in the cafeteria for school lunch, wondering what it is and whether I can eat it just now, and found to my relief that bananas and rice were featured prominently.
3. Heal my laptop. I promise I never used to pray so much for inanimate objects. However, the inconsistent power supply does a number on batteries - I'm on my fifth new one in 5.5 years. Besides, my laptop is extra-creative in breaking with flair - it's constantly finding new ways to confound my school's awesome IT staff. And sure, there are computer repair shops here, but who has time for that when you use your computer daily in lessons? Especially when the last (well-respected) shop broke your DVD drive in a fruitless attempt to fix your keyboard, and the one before that (also highly recommended) left porn on your desktop. So when the blue screen appears, or when programs crash, or when the webcam only stays fixed for 5 minutes, or when the "x" key keeps inserting itself into everything I'm typing, I've taken to praying that God will put His healing hands on my laptop. And when issues resolve themselves, as they sometimes do, I definitely give Him the credit!
4. Thank You for rooftops. In America, I thought of a rooftop as something that collected leaves in the fall and snow in the winter, and as Santa's landing pad. Here, where many homes have a flat rooftop that people can walk on, I think of it as a place for stargazing, praying, and reflecting. It has the best breezes, the best views of the sunset, the best people-watching opportunities, and the best peace and quiet.
5. Shut the dogs’ mouths. This prayer has two contexts. The first relates to my landlords' dogs, which like to bark incessantly between about 9 PM and the wee hours. Thankfully my room is mostly out of earshot, so I can sleep through it, but that's not the case for several of my housemates. I've often prayed for the dogs to be silenced so people can get a good night's sleep. The other context is when I'm out jogging in my neighborhood, where people's dogs roam free and sometimes chase people. I've never needed a rabies shot, and I'd like to keep it that way.
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| Don't you give me that innocent face, Khla. You know you and Liep were howling at 3 AM as if your cage were on fire. |
6. Help me slay this beast. I get unduly excited about my improving ability to squash mosquitoes when they least expect it. When they elude my grasp, though, I need this prayer... just as I do to take on the cockroaches lurking at the back of my sink, and the shrews that occasionally infiltrate our kitchen and living room. I prayed it quite often as my friend and I battled against a rat in my bedroom late one evening, chasing it around and whacking at it with a broom. Eventually, with help from my housemate's incredible Rodent Zapper machine, God granted us victory.
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| At that moment, we couldn't have imagined a more beautiful sight. |
7. Thank You for cold showers. I used to think people were silly if they showered more than once a day. Now I realize the beautiful power of showers, not only to wash the dust and mud from the roads, nor just to eliminate odors and wash away that Permasweat sheen, but also to restore sanity and a comfortable body temperature. And the bonus of not having a water heater is that you don't waste time waiting for the water to heat up... which would, after all, defeat the purpose of cooling you down.
9. Protect my engine. This prayer occurs when I'm driving through floodwaters. Several streets in my neighborhood flood regularly during rainy season, and the dark stormwaters make it impossible to spot potholes. (My housemate prays "Guide my moto" on this one, echoing #1.) The trick I found out the hard way: you're probably OK as long as you can keep accelerating, but the minute you stop applying gas, water will flood your engine unless you turn it off and start walking your moto. The other trick: Bikes never need special caution in floodwaters, except to miss potholes. If I know I need to drive on a flooded street, I often prefer to ride a bike.
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| Learning the hard way... we walked our moto about a mile that day. But I still drive that moto today! |
10. Thank You for mangoes. I pray this multiple times a day in April, when "mango season" is a euphemism for "hot season." I think if these seasons didn't coincide, Cambodia would have lost about half its foreigners by now. The thing I never knew about mangoes, before coming here, is how diverse they are. You can eat sour green ones with dried chilis and salt. You can pickle them and eat them with a main dish. You can make mango crisp. You can eat them frozen like popsicles, out of a bag on road trips, dried like a Fruit Roll-Up, or with sticky rice. You can get "fragrant" ones, tiny ones, ginormous ones, and yellow-orange ones practically falling apart with sweet ripeness. And for months, most of them cost less than 50 cents a pound... plus half your friends are giving them away from their own mango trees. It's fantastic.
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| Even lizards appreciate a good sticky rice and mango combo. |
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| My landlords' niece/helper Srey Pos loves giving me mangoes, fresh picked from trees in our yard (and our neighbors' yards) |
It's always the little things, right? It's the little things that get to you, but it's also the little things that make it all worth it. Giving the little things to God - both the irritations and the pleasures - helps me invite Him into my day so we can tackle the bigger things as a team. I'm no super-Christian, but praying more about even the small details has brought me a steady lifeline of supernatural aid, whether in the form of tropical fruit, a Rodent Zapper, or a peaceful heart that can withstand more than I'd ever imagined.
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