Angkor Wat

Travelling always gives me perspective, as if I've been going through life in a fog going, "Same, Same, Same," everyday.

The routine of everyday can get so narrow and small.

I can't see a freaking thing outside my little box of this tiny life.

And it's all about me.

This, "me, me, me" world.

Often I just need to be shaken up, dropped on the head so to speak, given a little life to life resuscitation.  And with a gasp I finally breath.  Like its the first time all over again.

Getting away from it all- the life I left behind for a while- I can see it like I'm gawking at my own Zoo and I'm the animal in it doing these weird routines and calling it life.  Life is a Zoo.  It's complicated and diobolically outrageous.  And its wonderful all at the same time.

But I get so caught up in it.

Emotions.

Moments that come- and seem so big- and then pass.

Looking at it all from the outside, it seems to simple.

Just know God and love him like heck.

And after that just love people.

If only this was the easy part.

Because loving God above all else, I've learned, means sacrifice.

And loving people- well sometimes that gets messy.

"I've got this," seems to be my mantra. Until something in me cracks.

How humbling.

I don't.

I don't got this.

God's got it all.  I've been seeing all the sights, taking in the millions of people- tourists and locals alike- who are all a part of this and it makes me feel small.  Because I am small.  Going to places like the Toel Sleng Genocide Museum in Phnom Penh and seeing how thousands were killed and tortured gives me perspective.

I've got it good.  

I always do.  Even when it seems the world is crashing down, from here it doesn't look so bad.

Perspective.

Room in Toel Sleng prison

The phenomenon of human struggle teaches me about perseverance.  Chum Mey, one of the only survivors of the Toel Sleng prison teaches me about perspective because he still goes forward when life was literally hell on earth for him during the reign of the Khmer Rouge.

I went to see Angkor Wat today in Siem Reap and it was aesthetically and architecturally pleasing.  I love architecture.  I read a bit about the history and I kind of shrugged my shoulders.

Here I am at one of the greatest temples in the world- I actually think it's the largest temple in the world and I'm kind of like, "that's nice."

And I walk around and pretty soon I'm pulling out "The Purpose Driven Life", a book on seeking God's purpose.  And I'm walking around the grounds reading it, because my God doesn't dwell in a temple made by human hands (Acts 17:24).  He dwells in me (1 Cor 3:16).

Perspective.

The kind that kills these moments, or creates them.

You decide.

And I'm kind of half here in Cambodia and half at home in my Zoo asking myself, "How do I live when I get home?"

In light of eternity. In light of how small I am and how Big I NEED God to be.

In light of all this- and I've only mentioned a few of the things I've seen and learnt.

How do I live like I am awe-struck by the gospel all over again? 

How do I love people so it changes them?

How do I learn to fight for justice- because everything innate in me is not a fighter (or is it?).

And I think about my Zoo at home.  I love my Zoo and as inperfect as it gets, it's still my little world with all these people who are full of so much worth.  Every. single. one. of. them.  This is what I see when I look at it from the outside.

And I think to myself.

What a God who can create all of this world and put me in it. 

I'm excited to return to my Zoo with new perspective.

There's a time for this.

For the looking in on the Zoo from the outside.

There's a time for it all.

For loving and clenching and unclenching fist.

Learning.

Being out of routine.

And there's a time to go back.

And love.

And live.

With new perspective.