It’s hard to believe that my time in the Philippines has come to a close and I have already been on the Race for more than 3 months. First of all, I apologize for being a terrible blogger and not updating you at all. When you live with 37 people and have a bunch of fun little neighbors, its kind of hard to find the time. But I am currently at my new ministry sight in Swaziland and I figured it was about time I sat my butt down and told ya how things are going, so bare with me as I try to put the past 3 months of my life into a few paragraphs.
How was the first part of my 9 month journey around the globe, you ask? Well, for the first month we were all squad in Manila (which you can read my previous blog post about :)), and then 4 of our 6 teams took a 31 hour bus and ferry ride to Tacloban, where we stayed for 2 months. My time in Tacloban will forever be etched on my heart. On November 8th, 2013 the island of Leyte was hit by Super Typhoon Yolanda and Tacloban was devastated. Some of the strongest winds and rain ever recorded pounded the area for more than 6 hours, ripping the city apart, and then an ocean surge flooded the entire area in more than 15 feet of water. When the waters subsided, there was virtually nothing left of Tacloban and bodies littered the streets. Nearly 23,000 lives were lost that day, there was millions of dollars in damage, and the community was forever changed. Kids International Ministries immediately sent 8 people to Tacloban and 4 days later they arrived as the first people in the world to respond. After a few weeks of relief work, KIM decided is was time to stay for good, and The Lighthouse was founded. We stayed at The Lighthouse, which when we arrived was just a house, a basketball court, and a lot of dirt.
For the first month and a half our ministry was construction 3 days a week, 8 hours a day. We dug up and moved and moved again and leveled what felt like all the dirt in the world. We mixed and poured enough concrete to pave multiple driveways and build a rock wall, stairs, two basketball goals, a house, rock benches, and I don’t even remember what else. We painted, used jackhammers, laid grass. One day we literally dug and picked up small rocks for 8 hours. Some days is what as hot as the Sahara and those 8 hours felt like a millions years, but some of my best memories come from days like that. We worked along side hilarious filipino construction workers and the staff at The Lighthouse, building friendships and making memories together, liking running to the ocean as soon as the break bell rang. Construction was not easy, but it was so rewarding. The transformation from what it looked like when we arrived to what it looks like now is incredible, and it is such an honor to be able to say I was apart of that. It is the greatest privilege to know hat we have blessed generations of people who will use that property as a safe place where Jesus is made known.
The 3 days a week that we weren’t doing construction we went on feedings. Twice a day, six days a week, we would fill up large containers with lugaw, a nutritious rice porridge, hop in a van, and take it to poverty stricken communities around area. Through Kids International Ministries we fed almost 7,000 hungry people a week. But feedings were so much more than just scooping rice porridge into bowls and cups. Imagine turning a corner into a shanty town and as soon as your spotted, tons of children are falling instep behind your white Revo, running the whole way until you come to a stop. When you get out, more bowls and cups and plastic bags than you can count are shoved at you, so you grab a latel and start filling them up as fast as you can. That’s how feedings began. When the lugaw was gone, not everyone was always filled. At one feeding multiple children went without food and my squad mate Maggie was deeply grieved by this. As she cried, a little girl with an empty bowl came up to her, wiped her tears, and told her that everything was going to be okay. Through moments like that, along with much heartache and questioning, The Lord taught us to trust that He is going to provide for His children, even if it isn’t through us. More importantly than the bowls of lugaw were the relationships that were formed and the hearts that were changed. Every Wednesday my team went to San Juan, the most kind, loving, and fun community. Even after we would run out of lugaw, we stayed to play and talk for hours. We were invited into peoples homes, we had a dance parties, we played games, we got our nails painted, little girls wrote us notes and gave us stuffed animals, we ate traditional filipino food, we cared for sick babies, we watched in amazement as God provided for families who only ate once a day, we prayed with 16-year-old moms, we handed out candy and bibles, and we all cried when we had to say goodbye, leaving good friends and a piece of our hearts there. On our last day one of my favorite little friends, Jastine Joy, gave me a note that said “I love you more than me.” What a profound thing for a little 9-year-old to say. Through feedings and sweet Jastine Joy I saw what that kind selfless, unceasing love really looks like. And I pray that God would stir that love in me, helping me to never keep it to myself.
On November 8 we held a Typhoon Yolanda commemoration service for the one year anniversary. More than 1,000 people from the community came. We had activities and games for the kids, ice-cream, revealed a memorial my squadmates painted, shared the gospel and worshiped, fed everyone a full meal, released lanterns into the night sky, and ended the day with fireworks and a dance party. On a day that was filled with heartache and loss only a year ago, we celebrated new beginnings and the hope we have in Christ.
When I wasn’t shoveling gravel or scooping lugaw or making balloon swords, the past 3 months were just… life.
More than anything, I’ve realized that just because I’m living in a foreign country serving the “least of these,” my life hasn’t changed like I anticipated. I mean yeah, I don’t eat Chick-fil-a once a week, I only have about 7 outfits to choose from, I’m literally never alone, and I have no internet access. But I’m still Alissa. One thing all World Racers learn is that international ministry is glamorized. Typically, our Instagrams and blog posts and recap videos consist of only the stuff “worth” sharing and our real life is a secret told by few. Sure, there are many grand adventures and amazing opportunities along the way, but usually life on the mission field is a lot like life at home, just at different spot on the map. Despite having dedicated 9 months of my life to serving around the globe, I am not on a spiritual mountain 24/7, I still struggle to have my quiet time everyday, patience and joy and peace are still things that I have to choose daily, I still get annoyed by stupid things and respond in ways I shouldn’t, I don’t always have a good attitude about shoveling dirt for 8 hours, I don’t see miraculous healings everyday, and my flesh and The Holy Spirit are still in a constant battle for my attention. The World Race hasn’t changed me.
At first, I was frustrated with the lack of change in and around me. I wanted and expected to be on that spiritual mountain everyday, to never have trouble loving others and for others to love me, to see miracles performed and lives changed. I wasn’t okay with being the same me I was at home and I was mad at God for not doing something more, or just something at all. To be honest, I wanted something “blog worthy” to share and tell everyone back home, but like I said, it was just life and thats boring, right? Some days felt like I was emptying the ocean with an eyedropper and I lost sight of why I signed for this in the first place. But then The Lord spoke to me and changed my perspective, telling me that no, this life is not boring, it’s worth celebrating.
One week in particular I was struggling to wait on The Lord, filled with frustration and doubt. That Wednesday my team and I went to our regular feeding at San Juan. After we emptied the containers of lugauw, I headed to Jastine Joy’s house, who came to me the week before and asked me to help her malnourished baby sister. As I walked, a group of children followed and our little parade marched down the street together. The chivalrous young boys helped me carry bags of baby food and vitamins, little girls fought over holding my hands, one girl walked behind me and help my skirt up so it wouldn’t get muddy, and Jastine Joy led the way. In that moment, I had a thought that I knew wasn’t my own and The Lord whispered to my soul, “This is why.”
This is why I raised $13,000, forfeited my first year of college, and signed up for this journey to places where most people don’t want to go. So that little Jastine Joy ask someone for help and her baby sister can gain 3 pounds in one week, showing her family that God does provide for His children. So that a 3-year-old boy can fill his belly for the first time that week and a little girl can have a hand to hold. So that a 16-year-old girl can know that she is set free from her past and she is in fact a good mother. So that people from the community can come to a safe place, kids can run barefoot on green grass, and men can play basketball on a real court. So that thousands of people who are burned with loss can learn about our true hope in a broken world. So that one person can see the love of Christ in me.
Missions is 60% life and 40% what I actually signed up to do. But that 40% makes every second worth it. And even though The World Race hasn’t changed me, that 40% has. And you don’t have to go to a third world country on the other side of the globe to live that 40%. Everyday God invites us on a whimsical adventure. We have a chance to take a risk, change someone’s world. Life to the fullest exists, all we have to do is decide to get up and embrace it. Jesus is changing everything in and around me, all I had to do is say yes and choose to see this life worth celebrating.
