Trees have conquered Ta Promh, reducing parts of it to rubble
A visit to Cambodia isn't complete without a day or two at Angkor Wat, all the guidebooks say. Before you can say 'insect repellent', I’m off in a motorised rickshaw to look round the hundreds of temples, all built between 800 and 1200AD and crammed into an area the size of Kew Gardens.
These temples were built to Buddha, Hindu deities and kings who pronounced themselves demi-gods. Tourists flock here for a spiritual experience; how would I find it as a Christian?
But amid the nostalgia and rubble – all that remains, centuries after a period of spiritual fever and ostentation – I stop to question: is this the state of my inner temple – my inner place of worship, my system of values?
From the ashes
When I was a student I believed God would answer my prayers and reveal any mystery to me if I were fervent enough. I needed to pray more; I needed to somehow be more. Then a Christian friend committed suicide and that part of my 'temple' was demolished. I had prayed and prayed and fasted and prayed. For what? Now I couldn't pray more, I didn't want to be more. I wanted God to accept me and not ask me to do more and more for him.
I didn't want to abandon my temple; I wanted to rebuild, but not to the same design. So I didn't ask for the faith to believe the things I had believed before. I shouted and cried and asked God to show me who he was, because I had just found out who he wasn't.
Staircase up to a shrine in the centre of Angkor Wat, Cambodia
And God does rebuild. Sometimes to the same design, sometimes not. Perhaps he hands us bricks for us to put where we think best. And because we're always learning and faith is dynamic, we do well to think that on earth we'll never stop working on an inner belief system that honours God.
Innocence lost
Women and children who have been trafficked have often had their innocence demolished, along with their confidence and hope. Tearfund partner CHO in Cambodia is helping children to rebuild their lives, to trust people again, to make plans for the future. But there are changes too: now they know not to trust person who offers them 'well paid work over the border'.
Many of these women and children are discovering just how attentive Jesus is to them, and how he wants to be part of their future plans. They talk about their new faith unprompted. Which leads me to another thought as I stand within Angkor Wat, craning to see a shrine that's way up at the top of a steep stone staircase. I wonder if this is supposed to say something about the accessibility of their god.
And then I ask myself: how hard do I make it for inquisitive people to see what Jesus is doing in my life?
I'm not after any design awards with my temple, but I do want to make sure it's built to last, clear of rubble and a spiritual experience for the visitor.
Words: Abigail Frymann
Photos: Layton Thompson