December 31, 2016 by
Connsulting a Bible app on his smartphone, Norng Chhay pulled up his favorite passage from the book of Matthew. “‘Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. For you will be treated as you treat others,’” the former Khmer Rouge soldier read aloud. Matthew 7 particularly resonates with him, he said, given his past as a member of one of the most notorious armies of modern times. Read more!  

April 16, 2013 by
Please continue to pray for  the victims and their relatives.  We are in the world of terrors. សូមជួយអធិស្ឋានសំរាប់ជនរងគ្រោះ នៅបុស្តុន។  

November 1, 2012 by
 Please continue to pray for people who have been affected by storm “Sandy”. So far we have more than 100 deaths, and 2 missing. Many homes, business, road, tree etc. have been destroyed. សូមអធិស្ឋានសំរាប់ជនដែលឆ្លងកាត់ព្យុះ។​ ពួកជំនុំខ្មែរមួយចំនួនឆ្លងកាត់ការនេះ។ សូមមើលរួបថត view pictures          

October 24, 2012 by
You may want to learn about Cambodian Christian Protestant Community in Cambodia, by visiting their website. The Cambodian Christian Protestant Community (CCPC) is an expression of the fellowship of God's people from different Church traditions and background working together towards the same objective: bringing the Word of hope and salvation to the Cambodian people.

October 19, 2012 by
Here is a great Story by Sivy.  She is a Cambodian girl who has been adapted by a missionary couple, raised in Thailand. She is  now in a university in the US. She is also a registered member of our community. Clik here to read her story "Living My Dream"     LIVING MY DREAM October 8th, 2012 at 4:10 pm I must confess: I had some unpleasant attitudes toward school in the last couple weeks. I was extremely frustrated because no matter how much schoolwork I completed, there would always be more to do. There were days that I did nothing other than attending long classes and doing more schoolwork in my room. It seemed like time was going so slowly, and yet I still didn’t have enough time to finish my work. Then, in the midst of this intense frustration, a fond memory came to me. It made me realize that I am actually living my dream. When I was a little girl, about nine years of age, I imagined a perfect world for myself. Back then I was living in a remote village in Cambodia near the border of South Vietnam. Like many other children in the village, I had the responsibilities to help my poor family plant rice, collect vegetables, feed pigs and chickens, and tend cows in the fields. I helped my family with all these chores everyday. I did attend school but only for four hours from 7 a.m. to 11 a.m. each day. Work was an absolute priority and school was a secondary. I was tired and weary from my chores, and I desperately wanted to study at school the whole day. One day as I was riding on the boney back of my old cow, I looked at the white clouds in the blue sky and started to imagine my perfect world. I imagined that my parents suddenly became rich and built a great big house. The house would have many rooms, and I would have a room to myself (most houses in Cambodia only have one big open space and everyone shares that space). I wanted a bunk bed in my room. I saw bunk beds on TV and thought that they were the coolest things. I wanted to sleep on a mattress and sheets like people in the movies. It looked very comfortable and luxurious. (People in my village did not sleep on mattresses and beds, but they slept on a mat on the plank floor. We also slept inside mosquito nets to prevent mosquitoes from biting us.) Once I had my own space and my own bed with a mattress, I would study all day long on my comfortable bed in my quiet room. I would study, study, and study some more. There would be no more planting rice in the hot sun or tending cows in the fields all alone. I would just go to school and come back to my room and study. This was what I really imagined but never expected it to come true. Miracles have happened since those days when I dreamt of a better life. Now I have a bunk bed, a mattress and sheets. I share a room with my two good friends in my dorm. I don’t have to plant rice in the field or tend cows in the hot sun. My only job is to study. Having been raised in a Buddhist home, who would have guested that there is a God who cares enough for me to listen to my imaginations and dreams? Who would have expected that He would find me in a remote village and bring me this far, to the other side of the world, to a university where I could earn a college education and fulfill my dreams? This memory of mine humbles me. Sometimes I forget where I came from and take these blessings for granted. How many little girls and young women around the world long to have a great education like I have right now? Before I complain about schoolwork or classes, I remind myself that this is what I actually wanted. I am literally living my dream. WHERE ARE YOU FROM? September 11th, 2012 at 4:51 pm With brown skin, brown eyes and black hair, it is not an easy task for me to blend into a crowd of white people without being asked, “Where are you from?” Most people have no problem answering such a short and easy question. But like other missionary kids, I always struggle to come up with a quick and comprehensible answer. This dialogue reflects what I went through last year when I started Judson as a freshman. American student: “Hey, where are you from?”Me, with a worried smile: “I’m from Thailand.”American student: “Ah, Thailand! I love your country. Thai people are so nice!”Me (not sure whether to say thank you or explain): “Yeah… Thailand is a great country, but I’m not Thai; I’m Cambodian.”American student: “Oh… well I hope you like it here. Hope you have fun living with us crazy Americans!”Me: “Yeah… I’m also American… I mean… I’m also a citizen of this country.”American student: “Wow, really? Then, how long have you lived here?”Me: “Never, this will be my first year…” [AWKWARD PAUSE] American student: “You know what, I need to run, but I’d love to talk to you more about it. Why don’t we sit together at lunch?”Me: “Yes, sure.” I often feel bad because my answers deeply confuse people. My honest dialogue might confuse you readers as well. If this is the case, I wholeheartedly apologize. Let me explain myself to you. I was born and raised in Cambodia as a child. My last three years there, I lived in a poor and deprived orphanage because both of my biological parents died of AIDS. At age thirteen, I was adopted by an American couple who were missionaries in Thailand. I lived in Thailand as a missionary kid for seven pleasant years before coming to study in America. I recently became a U.S. citizen after a complicated and long adoption process. That is why I am a citizen of the United States but have not lived in this foreign land of mine before. With the start of my second year at Judson, my room is a mess because I haven’t unpacked everything, and I can’t make up my mind where to best place my worldly possessions. I walk around on my floor and throughout campus greeting and hugging old friends. We share about our summer, and how we terribly missed each other. And then I realize: nobody is asking me where I’m from! These friends know me; they know my story and where I am from. This is marvelous! As I watch new students move in, bringing along their endless dorm supplies, I wonder where they are from. Are they from around here, or are they from another state? That person standing over there might not even be from the States. Every person comes from some place and each of them has their own story. Their story of where they are from might not be as complicated as mine, but it is still nice to stop by and welcome them and ask where they are from. People are usually proud of their states and country. So by asking this question, it brings smile to their faces. So where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?