Blogging at naptime.

Lately, we find ourselves slowly and sadly counting down the days until Emily’s current season in Cambodia comes to a close and she relocates back to the states. She, Josh, Kris and I have considered the typical things people do when someone moves away, like getting matching tattoos, sky diving together, or getting Best Friend necklaces. Because we are too frugal for any of the above, Emily chose to let a group of us come along with her yesterday to an island just beyond Kompong Chnang to drop off some children’s ministry curriculum at our church homes there, as well as rent motos and ride around the island for a few hours. (This was Josh's scenic view from the very back of Emily's car) We left early in the morning to catch a ferry from Kompong Chnang. We had an amazing breakfast (the best chicken and rice I’ve ever had, and I have witnesses who will echo that this is no exaggeration), picked up lunch for later, parked the car in a shady spot where the nice police officer agree...

I sit here listening to the sound of rain pouring outside of the office and myself sniffling as I sit inside. We are coming up on the hot season here in Cambodia and the unexpected rain fall is a welcome reprieve. The unexpected colds that Josh and I are both fighting have not been as warmly welcomed :) Today is a delightfully quiet day in the office with only the sounds of keyboards typing and the occasional phone ringing in the background. The calm and quiet are a stark contrast from last week when over 500 of our orphan kids traveled into Phnom Penh to stay at our Training Center for 3 days. They had times together of games, meals, worship, prayer and teaching as well as an outing for all of the kids to the King’s Palace. For many of these kids, it was their first time to travel outside of their province so the trip alone was remarkable. What made it even more profound was that on the 3rd day of the trip the impressively large group of us loaded 13 busses at 5am for a three hour ...

Cambodian irony (and Don Garberg can correct any improper usage of the term irony I might offer here) begins with spending a week at one of our orphan homes that has two squatty potties to accommodate everyone’s personal septic as well as general hygiene needs. The hygiene aspect involves holding a small bucket of water over your head, attempting to accomplish the goal of leaving the bathroom feeling freer of dirt and residue than when you entered… This generally works. That is until you step out of the bathroom and walk a few steps, acquiring a brand new layer of dirt and dust. It’s an unbreakable cycle. This makes the idea of coming home to a shower (and perhaps this is very un-missionary-like of me to admit) after 5 days that much more wonderfully appealing. Warm water that involves no scooping or dumping. Clean feet. Not having to be concerned with quickness in case a line of people has formed outside the door. After a 6 hour drive back to Phnom Penh on Saturday, I arrived home wit...