Cambodia: Part 1

Deceiving title, I know.

It's the day before I leave.

I sit here at my computer and I feel a little bit of the following:

+ denial that I'm actually going away tomorrow

+ nervousness 

+ excitement

Tomorrow I leave Winnipeg for a month.  I have some silly fears (which would most likely be cruel to actually write here), but mostly I anticipate how much I will be learning and growing.  I am excited to begin my travels with some good friends at a wedding,

 and move them along to another good friend in a foreign place.

Here I go.

Thirty seven.

The other day I went to CAA to get travelers cheques, and had a frustrating experience.  The girl was cold, not helpful, boarderline rude, and gave me the wrong information which made me have to go back.  I was really upset, frustrated, and angry.

Today I went to the bank to get some US cash for Cambodia.  I was given the wrong amount (a bit too much actually) by the teller, and realized this after I was out of the bank.  So I went back in and we changed things around and I was given my four dollars less and left.  They thanked me for being honest and I told them I really understood and left smiling.   To be fully honest, I kind of felt a little good about myself.

And then I realized something.  I'm not the greatest example of Christ there is out there.  

What made the one girl deserve my "grace" when the other did not?  Does my display of grace honestly depend on how kind the person is to be before they make a mistake?  Must I first be respected before I offer grace to another?  

Christ displays unconditional love and grace to us all.  We do not earn it, for we never could.  This is the simple example I have been given to follow.  And yet... not so simple.

Sigh.  I guess my head can't swell up too big this time.  

I caught myself in the act of inconsistency.

Thirty six.

Stories that explain who I am a bit.

Part 7.

Today I found a spider in my room.

I don't deal with spiders very well.  Especially jumping ones.  This one, happened to be a jumper.

So I screamed (naturally), and yelled for my mom.  She was in the basement so she couldn't hear me.  The horrendous creature started to crawl towards my stuff.  

This was not acceptable.

I threw my sandal at it.

But it got away.

"You're mine" I said, mostly to convince myself I was capable of killing it.

I looked around for something to kill it with that was bigger and flatter than my sandal.

I spotted a big binder.

I picked up the binder and threw it on the spider.

Apparently this was not enough for me, maybe he survived the impact.

So I drop kicked my binder.

Who does that?

Anyways.

The spider is dead.  And my binder is broken.

The end.

Thirty five.

I feel quite defeated right now.

I think I need to hear these lyrics every day.

Sigh.

Give us faith to be strong, Father we are so weak,

Our bodies are fragile and weary.

As we stagger and stumble to walk where you lead,

Give us faith to be strong.

Give us faith to be strong, give us strength to be faithful,

This life is not long but it's hard.

Give us grace to go on, make us willing and able,

Lord give us faith to be strong

Give us peace when we're torn, mend us up when we break,

this flesh can be wounded and shaky

When there's much too much trouble for one heart to take

Give us peace when we're torn

Give us faith to be strong, give us strength to be faithful

This life is not long but it's hard.

Give us grace to go on, make us willing and able

Lord, give us faith to be strong.

Give us hearts to find hope, Father we cannot see

How the sorrow we feel can bring freedom

And as hard as we try, Lord it's hard to believe

So give us hearts to find hope.

Thirty four.

Two weeks from now I will be in Cambodia, likely talking a mile a minute with my dear friend Brianna who has been there for several months already.

I really look forward to this trip.  I need it.  I need to separate myself from my life here for a little bit and throw myself whole heartedly into something else.  I need space to grow and learn, and to do it on my own.  

Cambodia, I look forward to meeting you.

Thirty three.

Sometimes people tell me that my sister and I look a lot a like.

Most days I have a hard time seeing it.

But not this day...

Thirty two.

I should make a themed blog simply for the silly things I do.

Like when I yell in the car.

The most recent was: 

"Hey there Cuts in front"...

Or like when I'm standing on a street corner waiting for a friend so I pretend to talk on my cell phone so I feel less awkward.  Seriously.  Who does that?  I had a conversation with myself, on the phone, about how lame I am.  It was enlightening.

Thirty one.

Volcano Pacaya. 

It's an interesting climb.  To get to the base, you hike through some woods on relatively easy trails (as they've been walked on numerous times) for a while.  After climbing about half way to the top, the ground changes and becomes shale-like volcanic rock.  The going is slow, because for every two steps one takes, there is one step back.  

Life right now is an interesting climb.  I feel like I'm taking big ol' healing steps forward, but then every so often I have one, two, or ten steps back.  And these back steps always happen when you get confident you're going upwards.  So it takes a while to get up to the top.  It's something you have to do, but it's easier to say that when you get to the top than when you fall and scrape your knee on the shale of life.  Okay okay, this is becoming a ridiculous comparison I know.

[if I had my life to live over] "I would take more chances.  I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.  I would eat more ice cream and less beans.  I would perhaps have more actual troubles, but I'd have fewer imaginary ones."

-Nadine Stair