The night time makes it easy to see the lights from a long way off, but the lights aren’t from the buildings or from your destination at all. No, the lights are from the river of vehicles. There was no way of knowing just how much traffic there would be when you rounded the corner and, then, there you are. Cars and tuk tuks bumper to bumper and wheel to wheel, with motos weaving through every crack and crevice. The noise is increasing; there’s no doubt you are headed in the right direction. You grab your friend’s hand and make a break for the other side of the street, despite the unpredictability as traffic surges forward in waves. Safely onto the sidewalk, you trip over your own feet trying to avoid knocking into strangers but that’s unavoidable because they are knocking into you. Indistinguishable smells of food waft your direction and you make sure to take a photo of the chefs cooking as you pass by. As you reach the split street, you watch traffic curve to the right and all the people walking around you go to the left. You follow and find yourself arriving at your destination— The Pub Street Night Market.
You are surprised by some of the languages you recognize, other than the Cambodian Khmer and broken English, that are being shouted by the crowds. Vendors are everywhere and looking for signs of the slightest interest in their goods to be written on your face before they bring you into their shops. There are dozens of shops and bars and rolled ice cream stands and, oh, so many people. The music is a mix of classic AC-DC, pop, country, and dubstep (which seems to be the favorite in southeast Asia). It makes sense that everyone is shouting. Just as the woman who was handing out flyers for free shots at a rooftop bar finished her sales pitch to you, you hear “World Race! I know World Race!” being shouted in a Cambodian accent to your left.
Meet Thea (name changed for safety purposes).
If there’s any part of the Night Market here in Cambodia that I want to remember, it’s meeting Thea. Before we could even go very far down the street—before the shopping and the singing and dancing and the famous Pub Street delicacies (including, but not limited to scorpions, tarantulas, and crickets; all of which I absolutely DID NOT eat #LetYourNoBeNo)—we met Thea. She was a sweet reminder of the power in knowing who you are and whose you are, a reminder that, when we walk in that power and authority, it will be noticed by the people around you and they will also know whose you are. Yes, I had my World Race shirt on which makes getting picked out of a crowd a whole lot easier; but, seriously, what are the odds?! She had stopped working at the Night Market and was only there the one night and that’s the night we decided to go!
Our conversation with Thea was short and simple (as many things usually are on the World Race), but it was one of Kingdom and of connection between fellow believers. She was a student who heard the Gospel and is now serving her community and her people. She said she knew people from the World Race because they taught at her school and she was very excited to see more of us coming to her hometown and sharing the same love of Jesus that she now knows. This is what we mean when we (and I mean World Racers, but missionaries in general) say “Life is Ministry and Ministry is Life.” We aren’t always looking for Kingdom, but it is everywhere. Especially for missionaries like us who’ve been on the field for months, we can’t always be “on” and searching for opportunities to build Kingdom here on earth. Always looking to be the answer or have the answer is enough to exhaust even the strongest person. Instead, our goal is just to be ready. Trust me—it’s pretty encouraging when you cross paths with a “Thea”. She isn’t fruit we get to bring in at harvest, but she has already been harvested by those who went before us. And now she is planting seed, too.
