The dangerous prayer
Being on the race taught me how dangerous it is to pray for a heart that breaks for what breaks the Lord’s.
We sing about it in songs and pray that prayer lightly, at least I had before I left. On the race I started intensely praying for it and having a desire for my heart to break for those things.
Being in the Philippines I learned my heart wasn’t prepared for that.
Part of our ministry here, at Light House international, is daily feedings. During the week we go to schools and the children run out of the classes excited to play and get food. For most of them this will be their only meal of the day. The area we serve in is still recovering from a major typhoon a few years ago, and the kids we run and play with tell us stories of how they watched the water take their brother away, or how they were the only survivors in their family… they laugh it off trying to cope with it while we sit and listen, trying not to cry on the outside, but on the inside our hearts break.
Our daily route is by the ocean on one side of the road and the broken ocean walls that were pushed out of their place during the storm on the other side. These people are constantly reminded of what happened and how fresh it is.
I’ve had the opportunity to visit some of the mass graves, some containing over 1000 unidentified bodies from the storm. There I sat heart broken, crying, recalling all the stories I have heard from the kids and realized my heart was breaking for what breaks God’s.
The beautiful thing is that God doesn’t just sit there in sadness, He heals and brings restoration. Everyone here is joyful and thankful to be alive, and I’m so beyond grateful to be able to make a difference here.
During last Saturday’s feeding we were getting to the end and had some extra porridge, so when a little boy came running up with a pitcher I gave him two extra scoops. When I handed it back to him, he looked down and noticed there was extra. He looked up to me had a huge smile and almost tears. Our translator smiled at me and said, “That means they can have dinner tonight, too.” Today as I woke up on Thanksgiving without my family, it was weird and a little sad, but then I went to the morning feeding and remembered the joy those kids had when they only ate one meal a day and it came from a giant container in the back of a van. They didn’t need turkey or apple pie, they just took their scoop of porridge, sat and ate it and were more than satisfied. Getting to take time out of today to feed others made me forget about the turkey and pie and I became satisfied sitting in the basement of our compound, on the floor, eating “thanksgiving” lunch of rice and vegetables. Yes I missed eating with my family and seeing my friends from home, but I also know I have many more holidays to celebrate with them, and that for some families, this is their first thanksgiving without a loved one because they are now in heaven, and then my sadness of not being home changed to being grateful that I do have more holidays to share, and that this year I was able to make a difference. I used to think that the kids here needed us to go and feed them, and that they needed us, but the reality of it is we need them. I have learned so much and have been given so much love and happiness from these sweet babies I never would have imagined. They have nothing to give us but their love, and that will always be enough for me.
This thanksgiving didn’t look like every other thanksgiving, but this year changed my perspective. I cried happy tears with some kids as they ate and played together instead of dwelling on my empty seat at the Thanksgiving table back home. Being here with them is a constant reminder I don’t need things to be happy and that true happiness comes from God. As long as I have that, there’s not anything else I need.
