Not About Me

In many ways, this trip to the Philippines has not turned out how I had envisioned it would. Though I tried to come over with no expectations, I have been finding out more and more that I had my fair share of them. I expected that it would be challenging, and it has been. And yet I had thought it to be more taxing physically, rather than mentally so. And that it has been spiritually taxing should have come as no surprise, but I confess that I have been taken aback several times by the spiritual attacks.

I came here and I had to start from scratch. We created an outdoor kitchen bit by bit, surviving in the early weeks on tuna sandwiches. While we have a better handle on our cooking now, it was and sometimes still is a struggle for me to be upbeat about buk-buk bugs and constant showers of bamboo powder sprinkling down on clean dishes and food items, or even cooking in the midst of Hurricane Nina's ferocity. I am learning to be thankful in every situation. I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall continually be in my mouth. It is one thing to memorize verses like these in Sunday School as a six year old child, and quite another to put it into practice in the midst of a mental breakdown. He is slowly teaching me that this is not about me.

We came to build a clinic on the property that we currently live on, and as yet, we have not begun. Three of our team members have returned home, and four now remain to work on the task that has been placed on hold due to permit issues. Frustration? Yes, at times. But Jesus is showing us how to broaden our vision. The past three months have been filled with projects, including bettering the temporary clinic by finishing out a birthing room and adding on another room in the back, almost doubling the available square footage, and fixing mechanical issues with the ambulance and other modes of transportation. We are currently in the process of building a CR on the second level, making it much more accessible for everyone. I am thankful for the blessing of concrete stairs over the roughly hewn steps in the mud, because they hold up so much better in the rain. Thou hast enlarged my steps under me, that my feet did not slip. Psalm 18:36

I am learning over and over the valuable lesson that people are more important than things. Things in this instance is not limited to possessions, or items, but includes my sleep, my next meal, my time. It is the putting away of my wants and my 'needs' to focus on someone else who needs to be built up and encouraged. I have been stretched further than I thought I was capable of being moved, and am learning that His ways are so much higher than mine. I am humbled by Jesus.

I really never have a legitimate reason to complain. Each Saturday, John and I drive the ambulance to the city landfill to pick up pregnant patients, bringing them back to the clinic on Bennet Road for their prenatal visits. Each week, they greet us with beautiful smiles and shining faces. Each week my eyes take in their surroundings, a fenced in area filled with reeking garbage and swarming with flies. People work in the landfill, sorting out the recyclable bits from the waste. On hot, sunny days, cardboard lies out to dry on the concrete, and on the rainy, wet days, they sort plastics into bags. Their homes are nearby, but even these sometimes make my neepa hut seem like a haven of warmth and comfort. Whenever I am tempted to complain, I am pricked by the realization that I have no grounds for my ungratefulness.

I am learning, being taught by a patient Teacher. He is kind, and He is humble, and He is ever calling me upward and onward. All to the glory of my King.

Chongville

This piece was written by Kelly Chong, one of the ladies who came and worked with Mercy In Action for a month. It was wonderful to get to know her during her stay here, and to see her humble spirit and love of Christ. She will be returning to Olongapo with her husband and children in January, and I look forward to meeting them and seeing her again. To read more about Kelly's impressions during her month's stay in Olongapo, read her blog, as her writing is introspective and is a reflection of Jesus' love for His people. You can check out her writings at Chongville.

You are in the broken places;

On Bennett Road

Iram and 12th Street.

You hang out on the street corners,

And walk the alleys.

You know their names;

You formed each one

Like there was no one else on earth

For You.

Who cries out for justice?

We are so good

At shaking off the dust

And washing our feet;

As you bend in the mire

And sob

Over Your Beloved.

Lighting Up: #4

He gave me lights! When I opened up our neepa hut door at dusk tonight, a soft, warm glow danced around the room and illuminated the room inside. When I looked upwards, my delighted eyes beheld four hanging orbs suspended from our vaulted ceiling. They were utterly whimsical and so lovely to look upon, and I was so surprised.

These lights are made out of shells and are formed in the shape of an octagon, similar to a soccer ball. I was enchanted by them the first time I laid eyes on them at an outdoor restaurant cafe in Olongapo. And now they cast down their mellow glow from our neepa hut.

The outer shells are pearlescent in sheen. It comforts me, having these orbs of light in our home. John is so good to me. He was pleased at my surprise...I love him immeasurably.

Rainwalking: #3

Tonight John and I walked home from the clinic. It had just begun to sprinkle raindrops as we made our way down Bennet Road, but the drops grew in size and intensity, and soon it began to rain in earnest. We were both drenched to the skin. As it pelted down on us, we took off running for shelter. We waited for the rain to let up as we stood, dripping, under out new found refuge. Rivulets of water ran down my face and collected on my already soaking shirt. My ponytail dripped onto my back. When it trickled to a drizzle, John and I made a dash for home. We still had quite a stretch of ground to cover, and the heavens opened up once again as we pressed onwards.

We arrived at our hut drenched from head to toe, chilled, with mud-caked feet. And it was oh so wonderful to be home. Home, where the lights dance like flickering candles to welcome us. Home, where the fan awaits to dry out our wetness. Home, where our bed sits invitingly, cozy with sheets and pillows and blankets. I was glad to be back, safe and dry from the storm outside.

Fairy Tree: #2

There is a particular tree here on the land that is absolutely enchanting. Every night, as dusk settles, the tree begins to sparkle with lights. In the darkness, tiny glowing lights hover around it's leafy foliage. Like a fairy haven, the umbrella tree is filled with fireflies. They gather round the treetop and dazzle us each night.

We all refer to it as the 'fairy tree.' It both captivates and sparks imagination. I have never seen anything like it. God's wonders never cease to amaze.

See the Birdies: #1

I am posting a series of selected journal entries here on the blog, and numbering them as I go along. They are collection of short stories, musings, observations, and happenings, and I do hope you enjoy them.

I broke John Langham's door. Busted it right off the hinges. It all started after dinner tonight when John Langham invited me to his hut to see his new birds. He warned me to be quiet, as they would be sleeping, and then he and my husband headed off to return the ambulance to the clinic. This left me all alone to satisfy my curiosity. It was dark, and the sole light emanated from the porch lamp, so I navigated through the darkness by the glow of my cell phone flashlight. I stood on the threshold and lifted my hand to the doorknob. I twisted it in my palm, and though the handle turned, the door didn't budge. Not one inch. I concluded that the humidity had caused the wood door to swell, and decided to put my weight into moving the door open by force. Turning the knob once more, I heaved myself at the wooden panel. Stuck. Undeterred, I doubled my efforts and shoved with all my might. I wanted to see those birds.

I felt the door give way, but instead of swinging open, it began to tilt down on top of me. The tiny screws that held the hinges had all come out at once, and suddenly I was trapped - attempting to hold the door up and keep myself from being crushed beneath its weight. As I struggled to wedge the door back into the frame, it crossed my mind that John was playing a nasty trick on me. Sending me up to his place, alone, in the dark, to "see the birds," after having booby trapped the his door. And I fell for it...

In the midst of these thoughts, I had managed to squeeze the door back in the frame, and then I ventured inside to take a peek at John's birds. They were nestled together, sleeping, and one had its head tucked beneath it's wing. They were very sweet. John had built the cage himself, and it was an intricate piece of art. I left the birds to their peaceful slumber and shut the unhinged door as best I could before I shot John a text. "What's with your door?"

It turned out that he didn't prank me. Both John's were surprised that I had managed to bust out the door. All in a day's work.

Stability

Balancing cares that are not my own
Taking on added responsibility
Evidence now of how I have grown
Into a role that was not mine naturally
I begin to relish the challenge
Juggling gifting with insecurity
Leaning upon the one truth I know
You are my anchor, my stability

Placing one foot forward, tentatively
Gently lifting the second behind
Thoughts wander, I wobble shakily
'Til I focus and sharpen my mind
Rememb'ring the words you said to me
Resounding echoes deep in my soul
Suddenly granting me clarity
Before my cares start to take their toll

I know You won't let my foot slip
Off this narrow path on which I travel
It may seem as though I'm losing my grip
Yet somehow I will not unravel
I'm holding onto something precious
I have found the pearl of great price
Though my life may be precarious
I shall follow Your loving advice

Please help my eyes see the beauty
When all I can see is despair
Give me strength to stop the cruelty
When I am tempted to not even care
Help me to seek humilty
To turn and seek Your face
In the eyes of the broken and weary
The people who need Your grace

I am not just free-falling
I am not just dust in the wind
I heard Your voice and Your calling
My spirit has been quickened
My eyes have now been opened
Your truth is very revealing
I will go wherever you send
And I will not be unfeeling
I will follow You to the End.

In Moderation

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans beckon me, luring me invitingly to sip a mug of creamy goodness. In Manila, I discovered The Coffee Bean & The Tea Leaf, and I now prefer it over Starbucks. Quality roast coffee for a better price, and with a classy atmosphere that is comfortably balanced with a laid back feeling, all combine to make the Bean & Leaf the coffeehouse of my choice. Their white chocolate dream latte is sublime. I enjoy leisurely mornings with my husband over a steaming hot cup of coffee.

Most of you are already aware of my love of coffee. In the States, especially when I was in college, I could hardly get through a day without my morning brew. I have since reduced my coffee intake, and now that I am in the Philippines my coffee cravings are still going strong. Our hospitable neighbors possess a Starbucks french press, and the resulting flavor is very rich and smooth. I have not been deprived of my favorite indulgence here in Olongapo.

Unfortunately, I have come to the realization that coffee, while still absolutely delicious and satisfying, is not beneficial to me. It dehydrates me, and since arriving in the Philippines, I have had to double my efforts to stay hydrated. As much as I love coffee, I will have to limit myself in order to stay healthy. C'est la vie... If only I loved water as much as my dark brew.

So the next time I visit a coffeehouse, it will make the cup all the sweeter as I will be anticipating the flavors to roll over my tongue. You can bet that I will savor the smells, the warmth of the mug in my hands, and the sensation and taste of the white chocolate dream latte. Some things in life are not necessary, but they sure do give it more pizazz.

coffee bean & the tea leaf

Pushing Higher

As a child, I loved to swing. I would pump ever higher, always wishing that somehow, some way, I could touch that bit of cloud far out in the big blue yonder. I wanted to dance in the sky, and swinging brought me as close as I had ever been. There was something exhilarating about swinging.

I am older now, and I do not swing as often any more. There are times, however, that I reminisce, and I occasionally seek out a playground in search of my old familiar favorite. Life can seem so simple as I methodically pump, falling up, falling down. Closing my eyes, I feel the rush of air and imagine soaring upwards, into the sky.

I recall the days when my little legs did not yet possess the strength to pump me on their own. It was then that my father would push me from behind. I remember the joy and the laughter, as he would cause me to burst into giggles when he would give me his special 'underdogs.' He was always there for me, keeping me in motion. Eventually, he taught me how to swing on my own.

Christ is like my father in the sense that He quietly under-girds me, steadily pushing me when I do not have the strength. And when the time comes, He watches me from a distance as I learn to 'swing' on my own.

Lately, it seems as though I have been swinging often. Jesus has equipped me and John as well, and we have had to do our share of pumping. We are exercising our muscles and strengthening our legs, and we are discovering how to go the distance. And I know that Jesus is supporting us as we push higher. Further up, and further in... Onwards and upwards, for the glory of Christ.

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