0ver 100 people came close and leaned in to hear what was happening. I suddenly felt very in the spotlight … becoming very aware of my sweating face and aching muscles. It was hot that day, and I had spent most the morning heaving tons of bags down the stairs from my apartment into a tuk-tuk (it took two tuk-tuks, actually). I was not looking my most presentable. Suddenly, I heard the manager say (in Khmer, the Cambodian language) "Bong Carrie has something to tell you." Eyes welled with hope

Panic hit. I hadn't prepared a speech. Why hadn't I thought about this? I had been so busy getting the gifts ready to present that I had completely forgotten about the actual PRESENTATION. But there I was, with 120-something sets of eyes, fixed on me, waiting. I thought for a moment all that those eyes had seen-the pain of their past, the brokenness of the world, the struggles with poverty and corruption. And yet these eyes, the ones looking at me, held something else in their stories: hope. These eyes have seen that there is life after what feels like the death of your soul. They looked away from the darkness to light. They know restoration and healing. And in an instant the panic was gone and emotion took over. My eyes welled up with tears. I was surrounded by women who are stronger and more courageous than I will ever be, and whose lives are a grand summary of the hope and healing and right-ness of gospel and the story of a God who saves even the least of these.

I fought the tears, hoping they would play off as sweat (crying in public is especially awkward in this culture, so sweat is the more acceptable option), said a quick prayer and, in Khmer, said, "Hello, friends. My name is Carrie. Those people over there are my parents who are here for a visit from America. I work with Daughters [of Cambodia, a ministry to victims of sex trafficking] at the White Linen Hotel. Today we have a gift for each of you. These gifts are from my Khmer Christian Church because they want each of you to know how proud they are of you, how they are praying for you, and how they love you. They want you to know the Lord Jesus and his Church loves you. Thank you. God bless you."

Squeals of delight

There were squeals and claps as the girls looked beyond me to the doorway where my parents were standing beside to a huge mountain of colorful purses. As my speech finished Dad launched into action and started grabbing purses to help pass them out. As the girls opened their bags in there were more squeals of excitement. Each bag contained 21 gifts: a shirt, some toiletries, hair and makeup items, a water bottle, some earrings, a notebook for English study, and a few other fun things. They started trading shirt colors and asking Dad if they could have a purse in their favorite color. If you can imagine my Dad holding 15 colorful purses in the middle of a room full of squealing women, you are smiling right now. Mom helped too, but there was a moment after the speech and before all the squealing when she and I made eye contact. Mom was frozen with both a beaming smile and tears streaming down her face at the same time. These women, these Daughters, who she has heard so much about and prayed for, were right before her. And they were acting like kids on Christmas morning. And it was beautiful.

Like Santa on a tuk-tuk

We tuk-tuk'd across town to all the Daughters locations and to a Khmer-run ministry called Precious Women to make the deliveries, feeling a little bit like Santa with a sleigh. At each location we presented the bags and I made the small speech in Khmer. Every time I did, I was shocked all over at how I'd gotten the whole speech out in Khmer. It was a pleasant surprise I could string so much together on the spot, but there was so much more I wish I could have told the women.

I wanted to tell them how much these gifts were symbolic of a huge step from the Church and a huge answer to my prayers. My heart and my calling to Cambodia all along have been for the Cambodian church to better understand and display God's love for the broken, for them to care for and love these women (and the thousands like them in this country) with the love of Jesus Christ. I wanted to tell them how slow a process it has been as teammates and I have attempted to learn as much as we can about the issue of trafficking and how we have asked questions about how to engage the church in a conversation about a problem which is culturally a rare discussion (especially from a pulpit or at church!).

The generosity of my Khmer church

I wanted to tell them how GCF, my Khmer church, let me make three announcements up front in our service to invite them to participate in the project. I wanted to tell them about how over 40 people stayed after church one Sunday, forming an assembly line to make over 220 gift bags for the clients and staff of these organizations. I want to tell them that when the bags were done, the group gathered in a circle around the them, praying for each of the women who would receive a bag to feel loved and cared for by our Lord and by His People.

I wanted to tell them of my sweet friends from home who gave a very generous financial gift to fund the Women's Day Project this year. I wanted to tell them that the same Khmer church (who we struggled to even suggest prayer in the pulpit for these women a year ago) had come together and offered a HUGE financial gift to contribute to the bags.

I wanted them to know all the Cambodian hands their gifts had come through to make it to them that day. The hands of women who shopped and haggled and bargained in markets as we purchased 220 of everything we needed. The hands of the people of God in the assembly line that Sunday, aged of 2 to 62, who put it all together and then those hands were joined as they prayed for the women. The hands of a woman from the church and her co-workers at a printing house who translated and designed our cards for the bags. The hands of church members, dropping donations into the offering at their church.

A celebration of women, for women

I wanted them to know that this day was a celebration. It was a celebration for women's rights on their cultural level. It was a celebration for these women whose lives tell a story of walking from darkness into the light. It was a celebration of the staff members at these organizations who choose this as their job because they love these women and they believe, against their culture's belief, that broken women don't have to stay broken forever. It was a celebration of the Christian Church in Cambodia growing to look more like their God as they continue to engage this issue more deeply and love a people whom Jesus loves dearly.

I wanted them to know of all I have been witness to in these 17 months here. I wanted to tell them how God is on the move in this place. In the darkest corners of an alley to the brightest daylight of a church service He is pushing back the darkness. He is calling people to come to Him, inviting them to know Him, and growing them to be more like Him.

I wanted them to know that this was BETTER than Christmas morning for me. It was victory.

Carrie Jussely is an MTW missionary serving in Cambodia. Help support the Cambodia Freedom Project, an MTW ministry project that equips the local church to help fight sex trafficking in Cambodia. Click here to make an online donation.