Reflecting from the Red Piano

Do you ever get those times when you're just really hit hard with questions you can't answer? The past few days have been one of those times for B&E.

Since coming to Cambodia, our minds have once again been blown wide open to the world in which we live. As mentioned, it feels a little bit like being in Africa, for us anyways; and it's brought all the emotions, thoughts, and longings that go with that.

Last night after dinner in town, we decided to grab a pint of the local brand in a popular spot in town called the Red Piano. It's a neat 100 yr old french colonial building that overlooks one of the busiest corners in town. I guess it's a bit of a swanky place. We got to talkin', and we both just sort of looked at each other as if to say, "what are we doing here?" From where we were, we were looking out on so many things that really hit us. We could hear two or three different groups of mine victims making music as they sat on the street. We could see young girls that had turned to prostitution. We could see several little family run restaurants with no patrons in them. There were many kids trying to sell books to tourists, and some simply just begging. And there we sat with the other white people, looking out on the scene. Did we care? Did anyone care?

So as we sat there drinking our $1 beer that we could easily afford, we couldn't help but start by saying "life isn't fair, it just isn't fair." Why is it that we aren't forced to try and sell cd's with music that we made with our stubs, just so we can feed our families? Or why is it that life has not been so hard to us, and people so cruel to us, that we're so broken think selling our bodies is a normal way to make a living? Or why do some restaurants, owned by foriegners, get to set up in prime locations, have the right decor, spill out onto the street with customers, when the family run Khmer business 100m down the road serves the same food at better prices, but it's tables remain empty?

You can't go far here without seeing suffering and desperation. Today as we cycled around to see some of the ruins we saw so much of this. You can't even put it all into words. Telling you about the kids on the street, or the cripples that drag themselves through the dust with no one to help them, or the mentally handicapped that beg or wander around, or the many other scenes that break our hearts, wouldn't give you the full picture.

Am I not supposed to be different? Do I not call myself one who follows Christ? Am I not called to reach out to these people? What were the acts that Jesus said were pure and faultless?...I see people that need that love every step on the street here.

I know I can't help them all. I can't buy a cd from all the amputess, or give money to all the beggers, or buy things from the kids that have been sent to work on the street. I can't. But I know that were called to do something, And I certainly don't think it's to sit in some ritzy joint with the other tourists eating till were full.

It's not to simple to put into words all the things that Erin and I talked about. It's not simple to explain the hurt that we feel for people. We really want to know how WE can live in such a way that we makes a difference, and truley become Jesus Christ to the people that need him most in this world, whether were in Cambodia, or in Niagara on the Lake. Can it be simple?

We'll, thanks for listening to my attempt at showing you a bit of our heart. Here's a few picks of some things we saw today. Writen details to follow...