There is a beautiful spirit in Singapore called ‘heartlander’ which describes a modest local way of life in Singapore that is basically everything the opposite of what is depicted in the Hollywood film “Crazy Rich Asians”. Most locals you meet in Singapore are heartlanders.
This spirit was very formative to me. In the early years of my young faith, I thought that living in a developing nation – and in that sense giving up what is a relatively comfortable life in Singapore and Australia even as a heartlander – was the biggest cost I’d count in my journey of faith. And which I did – spending so much of my youth out in the field where Cambodia was one of the poorest countries in Asia – until the Lord spoke to me one day:
“What are you running away from?”
There was a gentle chastening in that still firm voice.
My time as a tent-making missionary in South East Asia has always been unconventional — I never took any support as I never ran out of “tents” to make. In fact the whole digital media industry grew from strength to strength; and so He sustained me as what they’d call today a “digital nomad” — if only it was that easy to explain how I did it all back then.
My missions pastor in Australia, where I was first being sent out to Cambodia to do short-term missions, would offer good financial support from the church as I was committing to sowing into Cambodia on a regular basis then. Even as I was a poor undergraduate student at that time, surprisingly, God spoke to my spirit to turn down the support. Those funds may also be better put directly towards the Cambodian church and NGO we were serving.
“Watch, I will show you how we can do this.”
It was one of His clearest voices I heard and truly fulfilled without taking any traditional missions support similar to Paul (even as I also encourage churches to give support if they can). But perhaps, the mysterious ways of the Lord was what compelled me onto this ride of an adventure!
TAPPING INTO GOD’S CREATIVE STRATEGY
That free British Airways flight from London to Singapore would line up with a surprise job interview in Singapore, that would seal a vision to relocate to South East Asia after I completed my undergraduate studies. I would pretty much live, work, breathe, travel out of the “pulau” northwest or west of Singapore (it’s a local heartland joke; one of my closest girlfriends in Singapore lives in Boon Lay, and we’d commiserate with each other how “far” everything is when we take public transit; it’s definitely not the fanciest part of the nation)!
A little bit of history: My family had lost everything right around the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis, we lost my childhood home and in my early teens, we moved every year to a different rental property. My parents had earlier bought an investment property in Yew Tee, but as they had tenanted it, they only moved into it years later, and I’d leave Singapore right after.
Right around that time was when AirAsia began its massive expansion across South East Asia, it couldn’t have been timed better when I completed university. (AirAsia is really the pioneer in low-cost carriers in Asia, and I’d say they did it better than Ryanair in Europe.)
As I sensed the call to relocate to South East Asia, I’d be based out of my parents’ home in Yew Tee — and as the Holy Spirit would show me how Yew Tee is strategically positioned between Singapore airport and Johor (Malaysia) airport, which was the second biggest hub of AirAsia at that time I believe. So for the three years I was living in Singapore, but really tent-making, sojourning all around South East Asia from Johor – at $20 each 2-hour flight.
In serving the church and NGO in Cambodia, I’d make frequent day trips, weekend trips, month-long trips (I was teaching at a higher education institution, Republic Polytechnic, so I get “summer months” off). I also picked up the local language (Khmer) to get around on my own using motorcycle-taxis or tuk tuk. It became a home. It’d also marked the real beginning of my nonprofit work around the world.
Like the heartlander spirit, my Cambodian friends became lifelong family to me. Even after I’ve exited that field for a decade now. We grew up, fell in love, and had babies together, and apart. The other thing I loved is seeing how other expat missionaries I met in the field also exited (with kids in tow!) beautifully. This was a stark contrast to a missionary couple I had met from Singapore in my teens who exited central Asia after a decade completely jaded. So when God spoke to me about His creative strategy on how we would do it, I was on-board.
The conviction to not overstay His time for me took confronting my fears or traumas of experiencing the urban poor life before — of being ‘homeless’ in the first world. I was also aware of the traps of the ‘rich young ruler’. I was running away from #firstworldproblems.
It marked the beginning of confronting the allure of doing the “extraordinary missionary life” even as I was starting to taste the harvest in Cambodia. A season for everything truly.
My time in Cambodia or in the field was in Fall entering its Winter.
My time in the marketplace was in Spring entering its Summer.
TWO CENTS OR AN ALABASTER JAR
I would later learn, it was the beginning of deconstructing pervasive “ministry” norms of or a “traditional missionary in the global south”. The same way the disciples despised Mary, the woman with the alabaster jar, and whom Jesus defended her equal sacrifice onto Him as the widow who gave her two cents.
Pastor Gracewski from my church in San Francisco calls this Costly Devotion. In her very wonderful sermon, she teaches how it isn’t wealth or extravagance that Jesus despised, but idolatry. Serving the poor can be an idolatry if it replaces a pure-hearted devotion for Jesus. (In my work, I’ve seen the poor exploited to feed a consumerism approach to missions.)
In exiting my time in Cambodia, the Lord was teaching me how the widow with two cents and the woman with an alabaster jar held the same heart posture of costly devotion and that is all. I had to deconstruct or expand my definition of ‘counting the cost’ as followers of Jesus as I beheld His invitation, asking, “Will you steward an alabaster jar for Me?”
So much of what makes missions possible is backed by ordinary giving of deep impact.
I wasn’t even able to fathom having an alabaster jar as I’ve lived out of giving my two cents at that point of my life as a starving artist living in South East Asia. What I now know is, I was entering a transition and living out His promises of Matthew 6:33 and Luke 16:10 too.
Years later I would return to Cambodia, I brought the husband along to see my church and Cambodian family out there. The Cambodian church and NGO I helped built and grew for years was hosting a large leadership conference, its first. It was a watershed moment for the church and the nation in many ways. The halls were packed out by pastors from all over the Mekong region, as I stood at the back of the first session, the senior pastor whom I’ve not seen for years came over, hugged me and whispered, “These are your fruits.”
It was a profound moment and a paradigm shift for me.
My immature young faith wasn’t even thinking about fruits when I first stepped foot on the land of Cambodia in 2006. And that’s the scandalous thing, God uses us in our immature faith for His good purpose. In the end, to live missionally is to bear fruit, fruit that will last, John 15:16. And to vigilantly stay obedient to how God has positioned you in His story of creation.
We’ve made The Great Commission so unimaginative, so uncreative, so out of reach, so elusive that does not reflect the heart of God and His ultimately creative nature.
It is about giving the best of you in the days of our youth (Ecclesiastes 12:1), it is also about not giving up on the God adventure in our latter years. That we can all lead powerful and impactful ordinary lives with God who has a grand plan of creation unveiling in real time.
honest & hygge 