multiple views

Do you ever see something as if looking through a kaleidoscope, where all the exterior elements are eliminated and your mind zooms in on the one thing? And as if that’s not enough, it’s multiplied and so powerful that it moves you, I mean really stirs you to the point where you actually feel it– something you never fully believed you were capable of feeling in the first place? I was caught off guard by this recently. Oddly enough I imagine that this will happen to me again when I get back home. I daydream about it. Like I’ll be shopping in Target or something and all of the sudden I’ll see an object that will trigger a memory and as much as I’ve thought about it, I’m sure I’ll still be affected by it and won’t know what to do……Actually I think I’m nervous about what those moments will look like and possibly more fearful that this world here will fade all too quickly into the background of my rushed life in the USA.
I was surprised how much I was not keenly aware of my surroundings the other day when this image really thieved its way into my heart. In any given moment, I could think of various situations where I felt an image was an analogy of sorts and somehow pointed me towards God. Or perhaps something that sounded like God or looked like Him, but this one seemed to resonate so closely with what I needed, I was fascinated.
After all these years I’m surely flawed as I continue to struggle with what God’s love looks like, why I’m so important to Him, or how I can embrace what He offers even just a little bit more? In all of this I am certainly lacking.
This week we assisted with the graduation for the school we’ve been volunteering at and as the hour approached, I found myself in a sea of mothers adorning their kids with homemade flowers, tarrying over each misplaced hair, and adjusting caps in preparation for the ceremony. As I slid clumsily through the chaotic room, camera in hand, my lense fell to a father knelt down in front of his daughter. This man was older; he almost seemed too aged to have a daughter so young, so he certainly stood out. He handled his little girl with such tender care, adjusting her robe, wiping the sweat from her brow, and doting on her in everyway. Jennifer caught my stare and gently reminded me that this little girl was adopted. I was in awe. I mean the thought of adoption alone is a powerful casting of the same image over and over in my mind. It is one that says at the core I choose to love you, I pick you over all others, and I call you mine. But to top that with true poverty and desperation coupled with this authentic expression of love, it sent my thoughts spinning. He may have been the proudest father among all the parents there and believe me, the competition was thick. I know it seems really simple but I tell you, it was gripping. I mean if you saw his eyes the way I did, the way he looked at her, the way he embraced her, or how all of his affection was pointed to her, it was overwhelming. And I couldn’t help but think of God. Looking back, I felt like that little girl. But not the way you’d picture. I mean she was looking in the distance, she didn’t see her dad. She let him do what it was that He was doing but she missed it, she missed seeing all that was held in those wrinkles, and in that smile, and in those piercing eyes. Surely God is at work fixing us and changing us to be a reflection of Him, but all the while deeply loving us like only a true father can, for we are His and instead of looking beyond Him to the next thing, I have to remember there’s a lot to be captured from looking into His face.

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.

"...your love makes me smile."

"Sing to the Lord a brand new song!
Praise him from the horizon of the earth,
you who go down to the sea, and everything that lives in it,
you islands and those who live there!" Is 42:10

Tonight we were honored to be guests at Pastor Winston’s house. From the moment we approached the door I could tell there would be something special about the night. Maybe I’m starving for the creative but I caught myself smiling and dreaming throughout the evening. As we walked to the door, Pastor Winston, decked in shorts and a casual tee-shirt beat out a rhythm on a drum while his son played violin. It was beautiful and I have to say quite joyful. I know it wasn’t for me alone but I surely felt special.
The night was filled with artistic venues, some of which stood out were Eve and Nathan. Even though they are very young, they each prepared a song. With lyrics in hand they sang tenderly and from their hearts. I was so grateful to be reminded that God is always flowing in us and through us, that He gives us a new song to express what we feel. I sat there wondering why I hadn’t experienced this before. It felt like just because they asked us to bring something to share; we were all privy to these beautiful expressions from these young artists. I wonder if I miss simple expressions like that often because I think only of the main stage and not of art in the moment, or art as a way of life. With Eve and Nathan, their talent is raw and uncomplicated and they look at us funny with a crooked glance begging the question, why wouldn’t God give us a song to share? Either way, I was inspired and grateful that God used these little ones to remind me that he is a creative and artistic God.

in search of

This past week, we took a short break and while we were reflecting, we talked about a story that was recent and rather heavy to us. It was about a friend that we’ve grown to care for and learn from since being here. She is one of those women you look at and instantly know she is a model of joy, that she embodies a deep connection and love for God. She’s dynamic and strong and leads with heartiness. Her spirit is sweet and packed full of gusto. She continually says with immense vivacity that God is faithful and she shares stories with us on a weekly basis of how God proves this, meeting their most fundamental needs.
I remember during the first month she said that she wanted to see something accomplished only days later, a task that (to me) seemed impossible to occur even a week afterward. The manpower alone was lacking, not to mention the money to cover the cost. When I came to the site 3 days following, it was completed. I could hardly believe it. So even then her faith has stood strong and it has proven to be fruit bearing.
But this last time with her seemed a little different; she really opened up and shared with us some of the deeper troubles of her heart. She voiced her weariness that comes with wondering where their next meal will come from or how they’ll pay their rent. Even in the midst of her sharing she says the Lord always comes through but their question was why. Why when you follow God wholeheartedly are you still in want, are you still in need?

Sitting there I felt there was nothing I could say that would settle her heart, I mean I related somehow but I couldn’t put my finger on it and though I prayed silently it all felt like preconceived arrogant answers to her questions. The only thing I could do was value that which she did have and that which God has given her. It seemed like a weak attempt but nonetheless, it was something. Our lives are on opposing ends of the spectrum, does that mean I have no words of encouragement for her? That’s what it felt like.
While thinking about all of this a few days later, I was reminded that our lives are vastly different but the practice of faith is universal. Too many times have I been in a situation where I wonder where God is, and why does he wait so long to show up. All too often, I also grow weary in my discouragement when I feel there is a pressing need and God isn’t paying attention to it.
I was reminded too, that while God has everything, he came to the earth with nothing, stripped of his status and his wealth, he became poor. We hear this a lot at Christmas time but it seemed very fitting for this conversation. He even came as a baby when there were other options (obviously, I mean after all He is God). But a baby can’t speak, can’t think on its own even. There is much to be learned from this posture, most of which I am only scratching the surface.
Sometimes being around the poor I ‘m reminded of how much I have, how richly I’m provided for, but then I think of these conversations that we share with them, and that’s when I notice how much they have, that even in all my wealth I lack their faith, their trust that God will come through. As I thought about this a few days later, I saw that we share the tension between faith and doubt and maybe it’s just the human condition that we fail to see the very moments where we feel faithless are the same that grow our faith.

humbly constructed

I sit here in a plastic chair, designed for a child. My luxurious bottom barely fits. Trying to conceal my discomfort, I see that beneath my feet are stones and shells of various sizes, reminiscent of a beach and yet not. The floor is an insipid gray blend of dirt and sand, uneven in everyway. Hand laid crooked concrete blocks construct the walls, hardly grasping clumpy mortar between their crevices. Light peers through large gaps in the wall just enough to cast shadows of the steel rods that poke this way and that. It’s a dangerous place but no one seems to notice. There’s an infrequent soft breeze that brushes my hair into my face. I move it away and see a group of meager followers bow their heads as someone prays in Tagalong. I can’t understand all of what is said, but it is clear they are genuine. I look back at the entryway and observe that some of the thatch roof has blown away and there is greater exposure to the outside than previous visits. A rotating fan swishes in my direction as I notice that someone has hung cloth just behind me where the sun seeks to express herself. I lean over to help Darrell find Matthew 25. He is 9 and when he looks at me, I melt. I instantly love being near him. The passage is the parable of the talents and his index finger does not grow tired as he follows along. This is church.
There seems to be something sacred about this setting despite its humble construction. I whisper to myself, God is here.

I wonder why we get so frustrated with church back home and I realize that I don’t have the answers. I do know that sitting here in this tiny chair makes me think that church is really people meeting with God. It feels simple.

looking back, looking ahead

“But you will not leave in haste or go in flight; for the Lord will go before you.”
Isaiah 52:12

After reflecting on the past year I’ve seen where God was with me and allowed me to genuinely lean on him. I’ll not tire you with the specifics; our lives always seem more fanciful within our own myopic view, but I will say that when I think of 2006, I’m reminded of a simple image. I consider the purpose of a chair and how while you sit on it, you fully trust that it will uphold you. When I lean against the back of it, I feel secure. Though I twist and turn through various life circumstances, relationships, or struggles or whether I get up and stand behind it, or perhaps in front of it, it never seizes to be there waiting for me to return to it and its purpose is constant. God is not unlike this. He is there for me and has been there this past year.

“The Lord your God in your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”
Zephaniah 3:17

It’s hard to believe that the creator of the universe has time to rejoice over me with singing. I really like this picture though. And I certainly enjoy it when people sing for me although I can’t recall all too many times when someone has. The oddity is that since being here, I’ve noticed I sing more freely. This is something I can’t explain, except that maybe it’s because the karaoke here is so profoundly horrific that I’m not as intimidated. But conceivably it reasons to stand as a simple sign of joy sneaking its way into my life. So to think that God is pleased with me and wants to sing over me, is a foreign concept but nonetheless delightful.
The growth that has occurred this year is mostly personal. I felt there were questions I longed to find answers to and they came eventually, growing in due season. I guess what I mean to say is that after reflecting; its clear there’s a lot that’s incomplete and consequently several more questions to ask. I can see where my world view is very much naïve and though there has been a good deal of self discovery (and there continues to be) I see my weakness in God and in my unmatured dreams. Perhaps the latter is due to lack of faith in Him, that in myself, or perchance the combination of the two.

“So do not fear, for I am with you; Do not be dismayed for I am your God I will strengthen you and I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

I habitually think I’m remembering the particulars of life as I go, but it’s not until I sit down and rest, leaning all my worries on something else, or Someone else and ponder through the highs and lows, struggles and gains, that I expand my perspective of where I’ve come from and where I’m heading. Overall as I look back at my life, if I look close enough, I can see among the greenery there are weeds. As I thought and prayed about the coming year, I become conscious again that it is a gift to have dreams and it is equally beneficial to see the barriers of life that have kept me from them. For me, I believe one major obstacle has been fear. Despite this as I run wildly into this New Year I feel a sense expectation. This is very much unlike me. I normally feel sad that another year is gone and we’re all getting older, but this year feels different. All that to say, I want to live and thrive, to not waste days, to be quick to fall in love with life, to trust that God goes before me, to be lost in the wonder that He is always with me, to not loose heart, to rely on His strength with an authentic reliance and to lean on Him as He upholds me.