the recent events in Cambodia

For me it all started last Monday night around 7:30pm. My friend Annie was visiting in Cambodia, and we had just returned from a long weekend away that afternoon. To make the most of our one night in Phnom Penh before we left again the next morning for the beach, we decided to have dinner out with my friend Cate.

Cate and I have been living in Cambodia for a while now, and knew that it was the final night of the Water Festival here in Phnom Penh. This is historically a huge celebration for Cambodians, where this year a predicted 3 million people from all over the country would flock to the city to watch boat races and to gather with friends for three days.

Yet neither of us thought that going to dinner would be such chaos; after all, we weren’t even going to the riverfront- where I thought most of the people would be concentrated. But on the ride to the restaurant, we were forced to get out and walk, as the street ahead of us was closed to traffic. The street ahead was also completely filled with people. Honestly, I didn’t really think anything of it, except the annoyance of the lack of crowd control and what seemed to be the norm in this place- chaos- that I didn’t feel like dealing with that night. I was sick of the crowds, sick of sweating, and wondered why everyone thought it was “fun” to go out on a night that was so ridiculously overcrowded and built up. We kept walking and made our way through the crowds, shoulder to shoulder with way too many people- and then arrived at the restaurant only to find it closed. To say the evening was frustrating and irritating was an understatement.

The next morning, before I boarded the bus to the beach, I bought a copy of local newspaper, The Cambodia Daily. As I sat in the bus before we left, I scanned the front page. ‘Bloodshed as Stampede Strikes Island Bridge’ was the first article that caught my eye. But honestly, it didn’t even seem to be presented as huge news- no big bold letters or even photos. As I look back, it makes sense, since all the chaos was still happening as this morning paper was being published. Still, I was shocked. I read the article aloud to Annie. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. It was even more real to me as memories of walking down a massively crowded street only about twelve hours before was still fresh in my memory. It had honestly never even occurred to me how dangerous it could be. It was clear that no one else could have imagined it either.

Within minutes I began to receive lots of text messages. My sister in Minnesota had read it on CNN.com. My expatriate friends were already arranging times to meet and pray. I began to realize that perhaps it was even more grim than the article I had just read. I didn’t know what to think as I thought about the deadly chaos and how many thousands of Cambodians lives that had just been turned upside down in the last few hours; as I had slept comfortably in my bed on the other side of the city.

Because I was on my way out of the city, I felt like I was a little disconnected to all that has gone on here in Phnom Penh this past week. Groups of friends meeting to pray. Debriefing with Cambodian friends. Seeing people lighting incense, praying to the spirits of the deceased and giving offerings on the streets. The national day of mourning last Thursday; where the whole city shut down.

But even from the little island where I spent the days following the event, I didn’t forget. I gathered with other Cambodians and foreigners under the simple shelter of a family home to watch some of the news on TV. I had Cambodians asking me if I knew about all the people who died in Phnom Penh on Monday night, and what it was like there. I read personal stories from the Phnom Penh Post, detailing a mother who had lost both of her young daughters on their first ever trip to Phnom Penh, among many others like it. And as we sailed away from the island in a boat on Thursday, I noticed a Cambodian flag flying at half-mast.

As I have returned to Phnom Penh and gotten a bit more caught up on life and happenings while I was away, I have paused to reflect some more. As I prayed this morning, I read Psalm 39, and was overwhelmed with the peace that is only found in Jesus.

‘Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered—how fleeting my life is. You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand. My entire lifetime is just a moment to you; at best, each of us is but a breath.’ We are merely moving shadows,
and all our busy rushing ends in nothing.
We heap up wealth,
not knowing who will spend it. And so, Lord, where do I put my hope?
 My only hope is in you.’ psalm 39:4-7


I don’t seek to share this message of hope in Jesus with people here in order to make them more like me, “convert” them, or manipulate them. I really just want them to come to KNOW Him.

Today I am aware DEEP in my heart just how much Jesus loves each one of those who died, their families, and all the people in this country. He offers a peace and joy that I know personally and desperately want others to know too. It doesn’t make sense of this situation or provide an explanation. But He is the only one who can bring peace in these times; peace that cannot be found anywhere else.