In the cool of the morning, we head out into our village town of Balabag to Evangelize to the people who live in the town. We cross flooded roads, avoid mud filled pot holes, and wave to everyone we pass.
This particular morning, Josh Owen, a squadmate whose team joined with us for ministry this month, and I headed out to try and go father on the path than anyone on the team had before. We had no real expectation or plan, and before leaving we prayed together that the Holy Spirit would follow and guide our every step.
We walk as far as we know—past the homes of the children who have become our friends. They run to their gates shouting our names and we can’t help but stop. The love of a child comes free and pure, making it one of the best kinds of love.
Soon, however, our walk leads us farther than we’ve gone, around homes where we don’t know the children or the families. “Hello”s are exchanged, but many don’t speak enough English, and those who do refuse our offer to pray for them, so we speak the gospel briefly instead before heading on our way.
The houses give way to a vast sugar cane field, stretching as far as we can see to the right and the left. Directly ahead sits a wood with no obvious path running through it. We decided to follow the field to the left, wondering if any surprises will lay in that direction. After about five minutes of walking with the field on our left and the wood on our right, a small path seems to travel down into the wood.
Ducking under branches and being mindful not to slip on the mud, we descend this path down to a river. A woman is sitting in it washing her clothes. She looks up at us with surprise as both Josh and I send her a cheerful “Hello!”
She nods and keeps washing her clothes. Another path lies up out of the wood on the other side of the river. I ask the woman if it’s okay if we go up that path and she nods with a shrug and we take that as a go ahead.
Up on the other side, there are a few houses but nobody home, just clucking chickens and barking dogs.
Undeterred, we continue on our way. A middle aged man sat outside the next house we came on to. In hindsight, neither Josh nor I can remember why we stopped or what initially drew us to John. For some reason, neither of us can remember how it happened, but soon he asked, “do you want to come inside my house and eat a banana?”
Being hungry World Racers, we said yes and ducked into his home, despite the strangeness of the request. A huge bunch of bananas hung from the rafters near his front door. We pulled down our treats and I immediately noticed the giant bookcase heavy with theology books.
“Oh, you’re a Christian?” I ask. John nods enthusiastically and begins telling us how he’s studying theology to soon become a pastor. He is a Seventh Day Adventist and tells us about the Chinese and Russian missionaries his church hosts from time to time.
John starts telling us about the American “music doctor” at his church right now. Josh and I exchange a look, beyond excited to have found another American missionary living out here in this dirt road village. We ask John to direct us there and he decides to personally escort us.
So we set off on the road, excited. I’m not sure what Josh was thinking, but I was imagining the concrete four walls and tin roof of the church like the other two churches we’d found and connected with in the village.
However, the dirt road soon gave way to a paved road that soon led us to the massive gates of not only a church but a Seventh Day Adventist college (in the Philippines, college is for students aged 15-18).
Even from the road we could tell that this campus was as beautiful as any university campus in the United States. John casually walks through the front gate, waving at the guard there. He begins pointing out buildings on the campus and telling us the history of the college. We walk past student dorms, a convenience store, the library, staff dorms, the administration building, the engineering building… the list goes on.
Josh and I kept looking at one another wide eyed. The last four days we’d been drawing water from a deep well and sleeping in tents. Now, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, we found paved paths, manicured lawns, and a college housing over eight hundred students.
It felt a lot like we’d tumbled through the wardrobe and into an entirely different world.
Upon arriving at the music building, the American woman we came to meet had, unfortunately, left for Manila earlier that morning. We were introduced to another professor who greeted us warmly and said, “you’re here for the tour of the building we are building?”
Josh and I nod together. At this point, I have no idea why I’m here. I have no idea why God led us here, but so far saying yes has moved our journey along, so why not?
The professor was a young Filipino man only a handful of years older than Josh and I. He’d been trained in China and returned to do work with the college here. Telling us about his life, he led us into the construction zone of their newest building. He spoke of his passion to reach the nonbeliever through music until he reached a vast room that would soon be an auditorium. He walked us through where the stage will be and how the seating with be arranged.
“I see the village farmers sitting here, listening to our music, and knowing there is a God.” His eyes shone with this passion placed in his heart by the Holy Spirit. As he walked us through this, the sound of violin students practicing the hymn “It Is Well With My Soul” wafted on the back of a light breeze to us.
I got chills, knowing why we were led here.
Together, we stopped then and there to pray for this new building and the passions of the music department to reach the nearby village community. The professor was deeply moved, continually repeating how glad he was to share his passion and story with us. He prayed for us in return, asking Holy Spirit to follow closely behind us, something that has been in my personal prayer life this entire month.
As Josh and I began the hour long walk back through the woods to Balabag (carrying a bag full of bananas and two coconuts John insisted we take home with us) we marveled at this divine appointment.
Our God is a God of dreams and passions. He delights in our dreams and wants us to dream and pray big, big things. And here we were, two sweaty sort of smelly American missionaries that stumbled upon this community of believers, had all the time in the world to hear about passions and dreams, and got to join them in prayer for a beautiful thing they are creating.
It’s kind of nuts where the Lord takes us, and its nuts how much power “yes” can have. We went out with no expectations, seeking nothing, and we had the beautiful opportunity to rejoice and encourage other Christians.
