The alarm went off this morning at 5:30am. How does this hour seem so early? I used to consider that sleeping in. Linnea hit the snooze a couple times and I rolled over, I have to get up, shake out the cobwebs. Take some ibuprofen, payoff the churls with the daggers digging at the tissue under my knees. What clothes do I wear? These don’t smell that bad. Run downstairs, should I make some coffee or just chew tea bags? We are running late.
Josh already made coffee, drink it fast, the boys are outside already.
We arrived at this ministry called ‘2nd Mile’ yesterday. We were excited about dealing with some Americans again. What we were looking forward to in working with americans is ‘personal space’. Americans give personal space. They know when we need a break. That is, I think I have said this before, one of my toughest struggles, this desire for some privacy, some alone time. The 3rd world does not know what personal space is. I wonder if personal space is a God given right to humans, or just another privilege I feel entitled to and take for granted? Here at the ‘2nd Mile’ we have been given a breather, maybe Americans just get tired of each other, but I am RELISHING the space to type and read and pray.
The boys had gone for their run at 6, and as I gulped down my coffee they were doing their calisthenics. I watched through the screen of the guest house door as they did squats and pushups and I felt like the guys who always managed to show up for practice when the sprints were over.
We played basketball with the guys last night. Basketball is the national obsession here, along with the boxer Manny Pacquiao, who has a fight against a Mexican named Herrera on Oct. 7. It is fun to be back in a world where sports require the use of the whole body and don’t leave the spaghetti arms to dangle. These Filipinos can play, and my only advantage is my height, which is a little weird, and my only skill is to hack, but the Filipinos can run and jump and pass and shoot and we have a great time playing with them.
This ‘2nd Mile’ has a few different ministries under its roof, and as much as MMP and the ‘King’s Garden’ excited me, this place excites me more. For almost 2 weeks I have been looking forward to getting out of the Philippines. Home is calling, I miss my dog, we have 62 days left and Manila is hot and humid and overcrowded and one non-stop circus. I feel my blood pressure creeping higher as I am surrounded by people every minute of every day, and my lungs are full of smog, I feel like I have a smoker’s cough or the black lung. Maybe it is the TB from the slums. But this ‘2nd Mile’ has me smiling.
I am typing in the kitchen of the guest house. Josh is journaling after hitting some lucky shots over my head (get off your heels fatso!) and Alissa is making breakfast. I look out the window and see green, a field with grass that has been mowed this week. I see a playground with swings and see saws and some platform on springs which I am sure I would have broken if I had one as a kid. There is a volleyball court and a basketball court, and it is silent outside except for the birds and the cool breeze. The noise pollution of a thousand jeepney’s crazy horns and the tricycle’s loud exhaust don’t reach us back here.
Last night Josh and I sat with the leader of the ministry called ‘Honest Hands’ and their group of boys called Batch #6. These 10 boys live here during the week and are being taught and discipled for 9 months. These boys are former street kids who have been chosen from camps and churches to be trained to be the leaders of their generation. These street boys are being taught the value of work and discipline, are being taught from a curriculum called the Alternative Learning System. Sports is a foundational piece of teaching the boys, and this morning, as I guess they do every morning, after our basketball game, one of the boys led a devotional.
Last night, we sat in a circle with them and they did what we would call their daily debrief. After praying and singing some songs, each boy shared about the day and how he was feeling. The boys spoke in Tagalog and one of the boys started crying as he shared. Later, Carl would tell us this boy had gone home over the weekend, as they do every weekend, and he had been chased and held down and tortured with an ice pick by the guys in the gang. This boy has such a violent past and he is learning how to survive each weekend as he is tempted to swing by his old crew instead of head to his church leaders. It is all part of the process of changing the lives of these kids, I guess, and how do we relate? We tried.
We shared why we were in the Philippines, our testimonies and the journey God has us on. We encouraged them to pursue God and to get out of the boat, follow their dreams, same old crap, different country. We shared about what to live for, a legacy, and hoped that these words would stick in their heads and grow.
Linnea and Alissa made us breakfast this morning, and at 11am Josh and I will teach a class on WEIGHTLIFTING! They have some weights but haven’t actually started to use them and Carl asked if we would be interested in teaching them a little. I said, maybe. Have I mentioned that I love this place?
