… everywhere, all the time …

The first time in an airport I am familiar with that I saw something out of my comprehension.  I start to pay attention to people who I normally would not look at or assumptions which my mind would not normally make.  Yet my eyes set on that very “person’, my prayers seeping out under my breath, asking God to reveal only 1% of His truth, 

“Is he a perpetrator?”

“Why is he stopping at Hong Kong International Airport?”

“Will, in a couple of hours, he be sitting at one of those rape cubicles raping little children?”

My heart stands still like a lone boulder on a desolate shore.

The first time in an environment I am familiar with that my heart not only aches for the people that I deeply love here, but also the ones who now live and breath in Cambodia, ones that I have come to know of, ones that I have welcomed them to have all the nooks and crannies of my heart, ones that are the constant subject matters of my prayers.  I carry them all with me on the plane.  Their faces come up to me in places I do not expect I would meet at.  The young faces I am holding in my palms, I see the face of the Cambodian children.  I try to look away.  I try to drop my palms on my side.  I try to stop my mind to reel and spin.  But Father God, YOU,  remind me that in all conversations I am having with, in all places I am going to, in all people I am meeting with, the children’s names and voices should be on my lips.  I start to not care whether I am bringing too much on the table of conversation.  I start to not pay attention whether the person sitting across me is not paying 100% attention to me.  I know I have to speak up and probably 1/100 that I could come to talk to will pay attention and God’s flaming arrow will shoot across and call upon that 1/100 to speak up in his or her sphere of influence.

Father God, is what I am doing bringing you glory and pleasing fragrance?  If otherwise, please make it known to me.  If it is, please please multiply them.  The children’s voices are not one of those issues that can be put off, waited and come back later for.  The children’s voices have to be raised in loud volume with all the bass lines at the background to make them sound intruding, convicting, calling upon all good men and women to do something.  The triumph of evil prevails only when good men and women do not do anything.  Knowledge carries responsibilities.  As the follower of Jesus, knowledge carries the responsibilities of love. 

My prayers and tears, my hope and sadness should not be tagged with a period only because I am now in Hong Kong.  It should not stop anywhere at anytime.  

Because the children are now suffering everywhere, all the time.


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