footbridges

As I've walked around the Philippines, in highly populated areas, (come to think of it, everywhere here seems highly populated); I’ve noticed these footbridges in the middle of some outrageous intersections. Now I have to say with confidence that typically people here freely risk their lives to cross the street. And in the same tone, we’ve also done this on various occasions, where we step into oncoming traffic and grab the hand of the person near to us. We’ve collectively decided it is a legitimate way to test our faith, each of us questioning if the traffic will pause as we dare to cross. No seriously, life is better with others because it seems the more friends there are the more likely you are to make it, especially when facing clear challenges. Undoubtedly, there’s something to be said about taking risks together, (not specifically these kinds of risks-but I’m sure you get what I’m saying).
But again the way people cross these streets here can only be described as terrifying. The busses alone seem to be racing against time or each other, and I know I can be dramatic but this is no exaggeration. And no joke, we’ve actually met people who’ve been hit by the tricycles here. So yeah, the traffic’s insane. But like I said there are these footbridges and they are pretty unique to me. People have the chance to take a risk and run across traffic or they can take a footbridge which requires several flights of stairs and a birds eye view as you trek across the main roads.
Since being here, I can see the Philippines and our journey as a whole, has been a kind of footbridge for me. I feel like this place has been a safe route, full of images and people, ups and downs, and a bit of trek that has taken me from one place to another.
I suppose each step has provided a slower, more steady look as I peer down into the fast pace of my life. It’s allowed me to step away from the risk, the traffic so to speak of constant noise, and clutter, to see something beyond the oncoming headlights headed in my direction, something beyond where my own feet are stepping.
Sometimes when I reach the end of the bridge, I look back at the traffic and wonder, how does anyone ever make it across the speeding cars? It must be a miracle, even when we step across it in the midst of friends. But in the safety of reaching the other side, I appreciate that the footbridges carry me to a place where I can view my life differently. And ultimately that God carries me whether what seems like a safe new perspective or a dangerous interweaving through life’s most fleeting moments.

sing, sing a song...

Something I’ve noticed about the Philippines is they love to sing. You’d be surprised but every few feet there’s another karaoke joint with someone eagerly holding a mic as if their next big break is just around the corner. I’ve certainly learned there’s little that stops Filipinos from belting out a tune. During the first few months, I fell asleep to some rough renditions of Richard Marx’s, “Hold On to the Night.” The dogs outside howled along at no extra charge. Sometimes I think to myself, how will I ever get a good night’s sleep without it when I get back home? Basically, I’ve come to notice it’s rare you go anywhere without hearing a song.

Recently I was walking through Talaba and I realized that even there, a tune hangs in the air. I wonder what it is that can cause someone to sing in the middle of such hardship and I’m reminded of Paul. This entire idea seems so unreal to me, no matter how many times I hear this story. It’s like we are capable to somehow choose to do the opposite of what we feel even when we don’t feel it. Sounds simple when I write it out like that, and yet I admit when I don’t feel like singing, I clearly don’t sing. But looking at life here it seems there is always something to sing about. This whole concept is a hard one and yet it seems to repeat for me. I constantly see moments where I want to give into what I’m feeling, to justify it somehow, and yet I’m learning here that feelings as well as thoughts and actions must be submitted to God.

Likewise I’ve always had a hard time “considering it pure joy when you fall into various trials,” as Paul encourages. I mean sure it’s easy and often that we quote this verse, still, living it seems so far beyond my reach. I certainly have much growing to do in this area, but when I hear the song of the poor I think perhaps there is indeed something to sing about.

where joy hides

This past week I was able to spend some time with a woman named Ate Bee. She is about ten years my senior. If you could picture Aunt Bee from the Andy Griffith show, she was the Filipino/Chinese version. It was a pleasure to be around her. We learned some authentic dishes from her and served the women at the center as they attended a retreat. Ate Bee was simply delightful. She told us stories and giggled at herself as she recalled details. She would purse her lips as she cooked and her contentment showed in every step. I almost believed that being near her would lighten anyone.

Yesterday morning I went to the dentist with Brian because my wisdom tooth has been particularly troublesome lately, (not something I really pictured myself doing in the third world but anyways). Just a few nights earlier I was up for most of the night in pain, and I thought to myself in the midst of it all, God can you hear me? Will you do something? (Funny how much doubt creeps in when there’s no immediate relief). When it wasn’t subsiding I asked Him what it was he was trying to say or teach me. I was hoping he would answer. I took ib proffin every few hours. Finally when we got up I took another dosage of medicine and then suddenly it stopped. I couldn’t figure it out.
Then spending the morning with Brian yesterday I was able to dish out some real thoughts with him, and share some things I was learning. He brought some real clarity to my confusion and I can’t help but think that maybe the night of pain was for that very conversation. I mean I don’t want to over spiritualize the whole thing but I think it was one of the most important discussions I’ve had about my future since being here. The thing that stands out to me is that Brian was a real friend to me in it all. This is not to say that he isn’t all the other times, nothing could be further from the truth. I mean since knowing him, he has really taught me how to be a better friend among other things, just by his example but I have to say I was really encouraged and inspired and it was great! Simply put, that kind of investment and care is unique and rare and I’m grateful.
I can see there are some real joys all around me that I should celebrate. From Ate Bee, I practice joy that's found in the little details, in service, and laughter and from Brian there's joy to be recognized in the bigger things like dreams and friendship. I guess it’s nice to be reminded that God chooses to give good gifts to His children.