What continues to fascinate me, not just at home, but especially here in Cambodia, is the power of our story.
We so often see people at face value, and sometimes that means placing little value on them at all.
We see the exterior, without having any idea of the journey they have walked, the road they have travelled, the battles they have fought. Life happens to everyone, but I am so often consumed with my own, I fail to even wonder about anyone else's.
It isn't until we give someone an opportunity to share their story, that we truly begin to see.
We are allowed a glimpse into their life, and suddenly we see the value and the beauty in them.
I sat with a group of Cambodian girls today.
Our stories entwined as we shared.
It's our stories that bind humanity together.
The recognition that we think and feel the same.
That we need the same things.
That we all struggle with insecurities, and fears.
Our stories can make us vulnerable.
But that is where God is. Veiled in the vulnerable.
Present in the passionate.
When we are brave, and bare.
Undisguised and unadorned, He meets us.