a foreign language

Yesterday I woke up and my eyes were weighty. It felt painful to hold them open. I couldn’t help but think it was a result of what I had just witnessed the day before. Though my eyes feel better today, my heart continues in heaviness. I consider maybe I’ve been given the wrong vocabulary, an unsuitable language to describe what I’m experiencing. Perhaps it’s a little like having a map for the wrong city. While it may be useful, it is meaningless in a location for which the map was not modeled after.
On Tuesday, the places we visited were deeply troubling. There is no answer for the things I saw. I feel embarrassed at my wealth. I live in such plenty and yet injustice and suffering are very real. I feel like a walking contradiction. There is no denying that God is near. It feels like everyone here is poor.
This week we visited 3 slums, where the poorest of the poor live and in an instant I am changed. They no longer feel distanced from me. Our hands met, my heart was gripped. It is too early to pretend I know any conclusions from what I’ve seen, I’m quite ignorant of the struggles of these beautiful people, and I’m ashamed to say. I’m shameful because God is close to them, as you walk the rocky paths you sense him there, just ahead of you, as if you caught his scent. You follow him through each crooked ledge, over buckets of dirty water under freshly hung clothes that drip onto you. Quickly you are distracted but He is there. Despite smells that turn my stomach this way and that, there is beauty to behold in these slums-I chase God as I slip on the rock, past the bamboo that pokes out of the trash infested creek where someone bathes. I peek in through cardboard make shift homes, only to find smiles and joyful greetings. What is it about a place like this that can cause someone to smile and again I think it must be God. In a brief moment, I realize up until now, maybe I’ve been looking for God in the wrong places.

I’m sorry that I’ve not words to describe what I’m feeling and experiencing-I hope it comes to me but I think that maybe it’s fitting. I feel like I have seen something that makes me full of awe and something that feels like a war zone all in one.
The things I’ve seen are contrary to anything I’ve ever seen before. I am scared of these images-that they will escape me and afraid also that they won’t. I ask myself, how does one carry this with them? How does one remember the poor when their own world is so different?

We made it!

I’m here! After a 32 hour journey, I arrived in Manila. It’s great to see the Philippines live and in color. The city is buzzing and there’s rarely a moment without sound. Even as I write I can here the motorbikes zipping past our street and it’s raining outside. We are told that it doesn’t rain here until June.
So far we’ve worked hard to get settled. I’ve been gifted with staying in the attic of one of the spaces Brian got for us. I’m grateful for the private spot to retreat to each night. In the daytime it’s quite hot and I’m sure you’ll understand being up here isn’t as beneficial. Mostly we spend time outside. We’re slowly adjusting to the time difference and pushing through the jetlag. I’ve found 5:00 am an easy time to wake up as the sun is already bright and shining. I can’t remember the last time we all sat down to breakfast together and yet it has happened naturally these past few days.
Coffee and rice…..I never imagined that as a morning supplement before. The food is clearly unique to this culture…hotdogs and rice at every meal. I should save this topic, along with showers, for another day but I will say we’ve been advised to tell the butcher to keep the head when purchasing meat. I thought that was an important tidbit. Oh and after walking through the market, Monica was convinced she was a vegetarian.
The weather is the hardest thing to adjust to-it’s extremely hot here. It’s hard to put into words the difference even from Florida but different it is and we are drinking constantly. At any given point I feel like I could drink 5 gallons of water.
It’s weird to think we left on a Tuesday and it is already Saturday. This week has flown by. Joann’s family greeted us with warmth at the airport. Ate Merle and Tito Peter (Joann’s aunt and uncle) remembered me and Jennifer from our first visit and were very hospitable. They picked all of us up from the airport and transported us to our new home. We all packed into one van, Joann’s family and all 19 of us, 22 in all. Our bags took up an additional vehicle. When we arrived here they had a traditional Filipino meal for us and we enjoyed their company late into the evening. There’s a karaoke joint across the street (a favorite pastime with the Filipinos). We’re told there’s one in every neighborhood. The people singing can be heard throughout the area and the ones resonating the past few nights couldn’t sing very well. I can hear a blaring song outside now, even over the other noises. It sounds remotely like a Celine Dion tune but the pitch, rhythm, and tone are quite off. With my rendition of “I believe the children are our future,” I’ll fit right in.
Uncle Peter told me I would not suffer from homesickness because Filipinos celebrate and enjoy life like we do. Although I didn’t doubt him on the similarities I was not convinced on the topic of missing home.
Yesterday we went to Samaritana. They are one of the ministries we will be working alongside. Two years ago when we were here visiting and seeking the Lord about possibly coming on an extended visit, we spent some time at Samaritana and then prayed over the land where they now house an amazing retreat and education center for the women they rescue. Kuyo Jonathan is an architect and he designed the place and hired people to build it. He is most talented.
The whole place had this tranquil feel to it, an oasis in the midst of noise. I could see how the women would find refuge there. We had fellowship with the staff, the women, and Kuya Jonathan and Ate Thelma. They welcomed us, honoring us completely. It was a sweet time. I look forward to working and building relationships with the women there. I can already see how I will learn from their strength and am eager to do so. Kuyo Jonathan quoted a man that we have heard so much about named Father Ben (who works with the poor that live here at Smokey Mountain) saying “When you get here, don’t focus so much on what you will do, but rather on who you are becoming.” I thought this was a good word for me to hear.
Today we spent time working on the house. Joann, Jason and I did our best to create a space for our prayer room. It’s minimalist in design but I think it will be effective. We start the watch tomorrow. We’re all very excited. I really enjoyed working on the room with them today because we had to be creative without any resources. It was a challenge but rewarding also. It’s funny how you can make things out of nothing, something I often teach but rarely get to practice myself. Kids are really great at this and as you age you favor convenience instead of pushing those creative muscles, but today I was able to use them and they were glad for the workout.
All in all, we are safe and slightly tired. We’re adjusting to this new environment and ready to see how we’ll be shaped in this different context. We already miss home, (especially the air conditioning), but know that there is something great to be learned here. Keep us in your prayers, that we would be humble and kind even in the midst of an unfamiliar setting and long hours together.