“Red Light! Green Light!” is a game I’ve enjoyed with kids all around the world. It’s easy to play, simple to teach and requires almost no language skills whatsoever. 

All the players start at one end of a field (or basketball court, or back yard — whatever you have) and the leader shouts, “Green Light!” All of the players rush forward, running as fast as feet can carry. Then the leader yells, “Red Light!” And everyone stops as quickly as possible. Kids collide with one another, fall to the ground with what one hopes are only minor injuries. Those who don’t stop get sent back to the starting line. And just as soon as the clamor begins to subside, it’s “Green Light!” all over again and hilarity ensues.

And so on.

Good times.

Unless, of course, you’re playing the game with suitcases, passports and PCR tests.

Which brings me to today.

After more than two years of pandemic-induced exile from my beloved friends and family in Asia, I was more than ready to jump on a plane just as soon as the powers-that-be in Cambodia and Thailand gave the okey-dokey. 

Lest I bore you with details, I’ll just say that it’s been complicated. 

But I’m thrilled to say that after quite a few cycles of stop-and-go planning, it’s officially “Green Light” for me. So tomorrow at the ungodly hour of 3am, I’ll pop up out of bed, put on my game face and then I’ll head to the airport with our newly-hired Director of Media, Benjamin Hiltner — and a whole lot of camera equipment.

We’re headed to Phnom Penh, then Battambang, then Siem Reap, then Bangkok, then Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai. And then in about five weeks, we’ll be headed back home. If all goes well, we’ll have a couple terabytes of video, about 10,000 photos and a decent set of suntans. 

I can’t wait to get back on the ground in Asia, my home away from home. I miss the smells and flavors, the sights and the sounds. But most of all, I miss the kids and staff of Asia’s Hope. 

A lot has happened in the three years since I last visited Thailand and Cambodia. More than 150 of our kids have graduated high school and moved on to university. Dozens of these young adults have graduated college and started jobs. A bunch have gotten married. A bunch have had kids of their own. And, although I can hardly believe it, we’ve rescued more than 120 new kids, children I’ve never met, except in pictures and bios on a computer screen.

My heart is bursting and right now I’m as restless as a box of bees. Heck, I probably won’t even need the 3am alarm — I can’t imagine I’ll get much sleep at all tonight. 

I’m setting it though, just in case. This trip has had enough obstacles already. 

So please pray for all of the proverbial “traveling mercies.” And follow along for the next five weeks. I promise lots and lots and lots of pictures of Asia’s Hope people and places — and maybe a game or two of “Red Light! Green Light!”

Cheers. And catch you on the flip side.

Preface

Even though I wrote this journal entry 14 and a half years ago — before my daughter, who just started high school, was even born — these sentiments deeply resonate with me today. I’m no longer running a small business — I’ve been full-time at Asia’s Hope for more than a decade — and we’ve grown from 80 kids to almost 850, but I still ask myself the same questions:

How do we make it better?

What’s the next step?

How can we raise the money to accomplish the next thing on our agenda?

With whom shall we partner as we grow?

And still identify deeply with this sentiment:

“You see, this country, this ministry, these kids — they're the reason I keep a job that offers me more flexibility than money. I know beyond a doubt that if I died today, my life would have been worth something.”

More than that, this is still my prayer for you:

I pray for all of you my friends that you would follow God's call on your life enthusiastically, even radically. I'm not trying to set myself up as any sort of role model — I'm so far behind the curve on obedience and faith that I wouldn't dare — but I've tasted just a little bit of the goodness that God wants for all of his children. I've had the chance to be an intern in the family business, an opportunity to drink only a sip of the cup, and I can't help myself from going a bit beyond politeness or subtlety. I'm begging you to get involved.

---

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2005

Well, maybe I spoke too soon.

I said I thought I'd licked the bug, but today my tummy's a little ooky. (Dyspeptic, for those of you without kids.) But it's not too bad. Please pray that I continue to regain strength. I have a tough couple of days ahead. More on that later.

When this trip is done, I'll write some sort of retrospective overview. This isn't it. Still, I'm feeling a little reflective today. Indulge me.

This hasn't been the easiest of trips for me. In fact, it's been a lot of work for me and for Dave and Dr. John, the other executive board members who are here. When Asia's Hope started out, it was pretty simple — one or two projects, and we spent our trip encouraging our brothers and sisters and celebrating what God was doing. Lots of time reading to students, conducting clinics and running around with laughing orphans.

We did all of those things this time, but we have spent a lot of energy and time trying to wrap our minds around the complexities that arise with any type of successful endeavor: How do we make it better? What's the next step? How can we raise the money to accomplish the next thing on our agenda? With whom shall we partner as we grow?

We've gotten a lot done that could absolutely not have gotten done if we had stayed in the U.S. and communicated via email. And we've learned A LOT. But it hasn't felt as much like a vacation to me as some of my earlier trips. I feel like I've been at work every single day I've been in Cambodia — even on the days when I've had a relatively free schedule. During my free time, my brain has been in overdrive.

Usually, I return to America feeling refreshed, rejuvenated and 100% ready to jump back into work. I'm not sure that will be my experience this time. I've been sick a lot on this trip, and I've missed a couple of the really fun days with the kids that I had been looking forward to.

Nevertheless, every day in Cambodia is an adventure, and I'm entirely certain that I am in the center of God's will. Last year, after my hospital visit, I said to God and to many of you, "I'd return to Cambodia each year even if I knew I'd get really, really sick." Well, I did get sick again. But I feel the same about my mission to this country. And I'd add to it (Oh, Lord, please don't take me up on this...please!) that I'd return to Cambodia each year even if I had the same kind of financial misfortunes that I had this year.

You see, this country, this ministry, these kids — they're the reason I keep a job that offers me more flexibility than money. I know beyond a doubt that if I died today, my life would have been worth something.

I went to the orphanage this morning. They were having church when we arrived. I put down my bag and sat down at the back of the room. Immediately, three kids scootched over to me, one on each side, one on my lap, and laid their heads on me and sighed. Sophat, a seven year old boy sitting near the front of the room, turned and gave me one of the most genuine, loving smiles I've ever seen.

Last year, Sophat was an orphan. He lived with his aunt, who was destitute. He wasn't in school, he had to work to support himself and his family, and he was hungry every day. Every day. This year, Sophat lives in a beautiful home with a loving staff and an orphanage director who really acts like a father to each of those kids. He has brothers and sisters to play with. He gets a great education. He has plenty of food every day. He's been immunized. He's safe at night. No one shoos him off their footstep or chases him away from their shop. He's not filthy and he's not in danger of succumbing to disease or to sexual abuse or trafficking. Best of all, he knows Jesus loves him, and that he has brothers and sisters in Cambodia and in America who will care for him and send him to college and who are working hard to make a good future for him. He's happy.

I know that God gave me Asia's Hope because He loves me and my family, and wants to use us for His kingdom. I know that if Dave and I (and many others since) hadn't responded to God's invitation in faith, that Sophat and 82 other orphans would have very bleak futures indeed. I believe that there are many other kids like Sophat and Samneang and Soktheun out there in Cambodia and Thailand and who knows where else that God wants to save, and that it won't happen unless you and I don't push into God's will even further and if other Christians don't step up to the plate.

I pray for all of you my friends that you would follow God's call on your life enthusiastically, even radically. I'm not trying to set myself up as any sort of role model — I'm so far behind the curve on obedience and faith that I wouldn't dare — but I've tasted just a little bit of the goodness that God wants for all of his children. I've had the chance to be an intern in the family business, an opportunity to drink only a sip of the cup, and I can't help myself from going a bit beyond politeness or subtlety. I'm begging you to get involved.

Not in Asia's Hope. Or not necessarily. But in something that you can sink your teeth into, that you can invest your time and your talent and your money into. In something that ministers to Jesus by ministering to those he loves. Don't settle for less than all that God wants for you. If you don't have something you feel passionate about, find a passionate, Godly person and get involved in what they're into. It'll rub off on you. I promise!

So, while I might not return relaxed, I think I'll come back recalibrated. And when I begin to drift back into complacency, and when I begin to doubt God's goodness and His plan for my life, I'll log onto this page and read my blog, and I'll look at some of the 2,000 photos I took on this trip, and I'll send another check to Asia's Hope and pray for the day that I can return.

Sorry this has been such a long post. If any of you are still with me at this point, thanks. I really do love you guys.

Tomorrow I leave for the outlying villages. Gary and I will be sitting under a tree, teaching the Bible to new believers for three days. We'll be staying in a nearby town at night, but I don't know if I'll have email access. Please pray for us. We'll need it.

Shalom.

Me in February 2005, at our very first home in Battambang, Cambodia. Most — if not all — of these kids are now grown.

My main main, Sophat, wearing a hat from Element, a company I once owned. Sophat currently lives at our University Student Center in Phnom Penh, Cambodia and is engaged to Rida, a graduate from our Battambang 1 Home.

Me in February 2005 with the kids from our first home in Phnom Penh, the one that would eventually be known as Prek Eng 1.

I’ve been reading through my old journals. This entry was from the very last day of my very first trip to Cambodia, before Asia’s Hope existed. This was the trip that broke my heart and set me on a path that would eventually lead me here, overseeing a ministry caring for 800+ orphaned kids at 34 homes in Cambodia, Thailand and India…

Me, visiting the state-run Kien Klaing Orphanage in Phnom Penh, circa 2002

May 31, 2001

The Paradise Hotel, Phnom Penh, Cambodia

I thought I had seen enough to make me immune to the sorrows of the street, but as I walked to breakfast, I had to step over the body of a five or six year old boy sleeping on the sidewalk. He was beautiful but filthy — his clothes were literally rags. He looked like a tiny mannequin, a prop from some war movie. He hadn't had a bath in days, weeks, maybe months — probably longer since his last hug.

I wanted to pick him up, cradle him, give him decent meal. But I didn't dare wake him and steal his last moments of peace before he woke to his daily nightmare of begging for a scrap of food or a few hundred riel.

I could feed this boy for a day with the change hidden in my sofa cushions. But then there'd be thousands of others. How could I help them all? The need is so vast and my resources are so limited.

This place is raw. It's very difficult to come here if you have a heart for orphans and the poor. Only God can heal Cambodia. Every day I see children Pak's age: half-naked, clinging to their mothers. Invariably, the mother's eyes are empty and sad, knowing that she may not be able to provide her baby's next meal, and that she will almost certainly go to bed hungry herself.

I’ve been reading through my old journals, notes I took in the very earliest days of Asia’s Hope. I’ll be posting some excerpts over the next few weeks and days. I hope you’ll be encouraged by God’s faithfulness — despite our lack of expertise, experience and financial resources.

This was part of what I wrote during a very bad airplane ride on my first ever trip to Cambodia. Metaphorically, it set the stage for much of what would follow…

Me, disembarking at the Battambang, Cambodia airport, circa 2002

March 28, 2001

Somewhere above the Philippines Sea

I've been through turbulence before, but this is bad. Looks like we're heading back into the storm. We've endured about 20 minutes of 100+ knots wind, followed by some calm. During the first bout, I actually wondered just how much a plane can take before, you know, going down.

I'm all prayed up though, and know that even in the center of the storm, I'm also right in the middle of God's will.

Actually, we never really know when our time is up. I wish I spent every day as ready to go. I fear, however, that the people around me have no such peace. I've prepared myself for every possibility on this trip. I love my family passionately and I would never want my boys to be orphaned again, but I know that God is the father to the fatherless and that suffering children are safe in his hand.

L toR: Sengyou (father to Chhem and all the kids at our BB1 home), Chhem, Davita, Kda and me on a recent Sunday in Battambang, Cambodia. (photo by Dylan Menges)

Young Chhem enjoyed a wonderful childhood at our Battambang 1 home. She’s excited to provide a loving family for the next generation of kids at our Prek Eng 2 home.

When I was in Cambodia a few weeks ago, I wrote a blog post about Chhem, a young woman who grew up at Asia’s Hope. I’ve been waiting until now to tell you what, for me, is the most exciting part of this story.

Chhem and her husband Kda (along with their daughter, Davita) are joining the Asia’s Hope staff as the new home parents of the Prek Eng 2 home in Phnom Penh, Cambodia!

Prek Eng 2 holds a special place in my heart, and this transition is bittersweet, as it also marks the retirement of my dear friends and longtime colleagues, Narun and Sophal, who parented the home for 13 years. It’s always difficult to transition a home to a new set of parents, but the time is right, and all but a small handful of the PE2 children are grown and have gone off to university or the workforce.

With a bit of sadness we wish Narun and Sophal — parents at the Prek Eng 2 home for 13 years —congratulations on their retirement and prayer for the next chapter of their lives.

I encourage you to read the story of Chhem’s rescue, promised to her in her dreams by a God she’d never even met. It’s a real-life, miraculous tale that moves me to tears every time I tell it — not just because it’s intrinsically astonishing, but because I’ve known Chhem since she and her sister came to Asia’s Hope, and I’ve been honored by God to have played a bit role in her epic drama.

If you spend any time with Chhem, you’ll recognize that she is a strong woman. But she is also humble and compassionate. And when you hear her talk about her daddy Sengyou and her mommy Sokhean, you’ll truly understand what it is we’re trying to do at Asia’s Hope.

If Chhem and Kda are half the parents Sengyou and Sokhean were to her, we will have succeeded, and the current and soon-to-arrive new kids at PE2 will enjoy a loving home with a bright future. Of course, I believe that Chhem and Kda not only represent the best of our first generation of Asia’s Hope kids, but the future of our organization as well.

Please pray for Chhem and Kda and for the kids they’ll raise at Asia’s Hope.

May God continue to bless you and guide us all into courageous leadership on behalf of these kids.

This young woman, pictured here with her coach, lives at our Doi Saket 1c home in Thailand, and is currently the best female bowler in her age group — in the world!

Well, this trip is officially in the books. Dylan and I are back in Phnom Penh and our plan is take off for Seoul (then Detroit, then Columbus) at about 1130pm. We drove in from Siem Reap early this morning and we’re just killing time before heading home.  We’ll have a brief send off with a couple of our staff at the airport, but we resisted the urge to drive out to our Prek Eng campus — I said goodbye to those kids a couple of weeks ago, and it’d hurt like heck to see them for a half hour just to turn around and leave.

I’m enjoying some good coffee and decent WiFi, and I wanted to share an experience I had a couple of days ago before leaving Chiang Mai. 

Longtime Asia’s Hope followers may remember hearing about our world-class youth cricketers from Asia’s Hope Thailand. Yes, cricket. It’s a bit unexpected, as Thailand isn’t widely known as a cricket powerhouse. And in Thailand, very few people follow the sport. But thanks to the hard work of some innovative and dedicated coaches in Chiang Mai, not to mention the tireless efforts of the players themselves, we’ve produced some extraordinary players through the years.

This year, our the Chiang Mai boys’ U13 (age 13 and under) and girls’ U16 teams are ranked number one in Thailand. The girls’ team is in the world top ten. And, get this, one of our girls is currently the world’s top ranked female bowler (pitcher, for you baseball fans) in her age group.

Top in the world. Best of the best. I can’t help beaming with pride when I think about it! 

Many of us will never even meet a world-champion-anything, so I kind of feel like this is a pretty big deal. More so given our kids’ status as hill-tribe minorities and former orphans. 

If you support Asia’s Hope, you have a stake in these players’ success. Your generosity has allowed us to provide stable families for these kids, giving them the strong foundation they need to thrive, not just survive.

If you haven’t yet supported Asia’s Hope, what’s stopping you? Click on the “give” button and make a recurring donation to help us rescue and raise more kids like these — independent, strong champions ready to take on the world.

Photo credits: Dylan Menges @mengesdesign

Team photos from the recent tournament in Bangkok, Thailand

Yesterday morning Tutu, Dylan and I left our guest house in Doi Saket bright and early and made the drive to Mae Sot, about six hours away on the border with Myanmar, or Burma, as they used to call it. Despite the smog — brought on by the long dry season and the traditional slash-and-burn agriculture — the scenery was beautiful, especially as we headed through he mountains toward the border. 

We arrived in Mae Sot, ditched our bags at the hotel and then drove another hour toward the Karen tribal village that was once home to about 13 of our children. Along the way we passed a massive camp housing more than 60,000 hilltribe refugees forced out of Myanmar due to their tribes’ political and ethnic tensions with the majority Burmese population. 

I’ve been conditioned by CNN to picture refugee camps as an endless grid of white tents in the middle of the desert. But this camp is built onto the mountainside and is composed of bamboo and thatch huts, all paper dry and liable to go up in flames from the slightest stray spark. In fact, this camp was almost leveled a few years ago by a fire that ripped through it in just minutes, killing scores and intensifying the misery of thousands of already-weary and entirely helpless families. No one knows for sure how the fire started but rumors are that local Thais, tired of involuntarily hosting their war-ravaged neighbors, are to blame.

It’s strange to see such abject misery juxtaposed with such extravagant natural beauty, but I suppose life is like that for so many people. 

https://www.hrw.org/report/2012/09/12/ad-hoc-and-inadequate/thailands-treatment-refugees-and-asylum-seekers 

A few kilometers past the refugee camp, we turned off the main road onto a dusty path that is impassible by car during the rainy season. We fully utilized the truck’s 4-wheel drive system, carefully climbing and descending steep hills and narrow dirt roads until we reached a small village with houses made by hand out of teak harvested and planed by local tribesmen and huts fashioned from bamboo gleaned from the surrounding jungle. 

Beyond our desire to document village life to demonstrate the kinds of backgrounds our kids have come from, we made this visit to check in on a handful of our children who were spending some of their school break with their relatives in their hometown. Most of our kids speak no Thai when they come into our care. But after a few years, it’s their tribal language fluency that suffers. As an organization staffed by hilltribe adults for the benefit of hilltribe kids, it’s important that these children maintain a knowledge, pride and comfort with their culture of origin. Some of these kids will assimilate into Thai culture as adults, but some will choose to return to their villages to live, and they need to know how to survive.

So, under the careful supervision of our staff and the watchful eye of a village pastor, these kids spend a couple of weeks each year immersing themselves in their original language, foodways and traditional style of living. It was a joy to see them in this context, and to meet the aunts, uncles and grandparents who cared for them after their parents died or abandoned them. 

We walked around with the kids, took pictures and socialized with the villagers. Before leaving, a tribal elder invited us to his house where we chewed betel, a mildly stimulating combination of nut, paste and leaf that, if consumed every day, can lead to addiction — and blood red teeth. With our staff’s assurances, we decided it wouldn’t hurt us to give it a shot in service of cultural bonding. It was...interesting. Mildly astringent and wildly herbaceous, it’s something of an acquired taste. But it did leave our tongues tingling and produced a slight, caffeine-like buzz. I’m glad I tried it, but it’s not a habit I’ll be bringing back to the states.

After a fitful night’s sleep in our hotel’s rock-hard beds, Dylan and I got up in the morning and, accompanied by a local Burmese Chin-Dai tribal pastor, we crossed over into Myanmar where we ate a fantastic breakfast of tea, coffee, Chinese-style steamed buns and what I’d describe as a Burmese empanada. We traipsed through bustling markets selling everything from betel to, well, beetles. It was a sensory assault, but I could really see myself cooking with the fresh produce and proteins on a regular basis.  

After a few hours, we successfully retrieved our passports which the Burmese immigration police had confiscated upon arrival, and we headed back to our hotel. After that, we had some noodles and hit the road. It was a long and tiring couple of days, but boy was it fascinating. 

I hope my pictures convey a little bit of what we experienced. Please join me in praying for the refugees at the camp and for the believers in Burma. They are completely helpless and desperately in need of God’s blessing. 

And thank you for supporting our work.  

We’re just a few days out from our return flights home. We’re going to try to pack as much into those last days as possible. With any luck, I’ll be able to take a lot more pictures. 

Massive refugee camp in along the mountainside dividing Thailand and Myanmar. 

photo credit: Dylan Menges 

 photo credit: Dylan Menges

photo credit: Dylan Menges

 photo credit: Dylan Menges

 photo credit: Dylan Menges

A visit to a Karen village near the Burmese border. 

A morning in Kayin State’s cafes, shops, streets and markets. 

I’ve been in Thailand for about five days, and this is my first opportunity to blog. All of my computer time has been split between messages with my co-workers and my family (in that order of frequency) , photo editing and updating various personal and work social media accounts.

I’ve been running full-tilt about 15 hours a day hosting a team from Chet’s Creek Church in Jacksonville,  Florida and the Perkins Family from Columbus. Today is going to be another busy one — water park with the kids, city tour and and night bazaar. It’s 7:30am, and I’m certain I’m not going to rest until my head hits the pillow after 10pm. This is not a sustainable pace, but next week offers a few opportunities to relax after both teams depart.

As much as I’d love to regale you with stories, I’m going to have to settle for posting a few photos. My bodyguard and tour photography (mostly joking about the former, not joking much at all about the latter) Dylan Menges has taken a ton of pics that I don’t yet have access to; we’re both behind on our edits.

Tea at the house of this dear brother in a Lahu tribal village. 

Daniel and Pream-Pream, son and grandson of Thailand director Tutu Abourmad. 

These ubiquitous condiments are essential to Thai food. 

Some of the sweetest boys in the world. The one on the left is especially fond of my wife Kori and was disappointed that she couldn’t join me this time around. 

Pelajoh grew up at Asia’s Hope. When he was paralyzed in a motorcycle accident, his Asia’s Hope family committed to a lifetime of care. 

Stunned by a sledge to the noggin and finished off with a stab to the heart, this pig had a pretty good life until his final moments. I’m thankful for his delicious albeit unwilling sacrifice.  

Pig guts. This is a snout-to-spout kind of operation: nothing is wasted. 

Like I said, nothing is wasted.

The team from Chet’s Creek brought lots of fun things for the kids. 

This little guy knows what to do with these bamboo tea cups. 

Smart girls are best!

Delicious cold salad with pork so fresh it still had the oink in it. 

Marigold (foreground) and Jamie (background) Perkins. 

Ransom Perkins gets his first taste of Khao Soi. Mine = Blone. 

Geoff and Kay are enjoying their time in Thailand. 

The Chet’s Creek team encourages our returning university students. 

This week we celebrated high school and university graduations. 

For a man of his age, Dylan is remarkably well preserved. 

Khao Soi at Auntie Cat’s. Probably the best single dish on the planet. 

These guys broke down this pig from kill to cook in 45 minutes. 

Ham. And cheese. 

Sunburned white kids learn the healing power of real aloe. 

It’s really nice to watch the Asia’s Hope kids welcome new friends. No snark, no posturing, no exclusion. If we in America were this kind, our country would be in a much better place.