Rain pelts my face as the van my team is in takes a turn on a side road. The weather is cooling down in Tacloban, Philippines from the rain but I leave the window open for the fresh air. As we start driving through this small community we yell, “Lugow!”, “feeding!” We park at the end of the road and the kids come running with their bowls and cups. We get out of the van and open the back hatch as two lines form.
We’ve done a bunch of feedings this month in many different communities but this one was a little different. As I started to greet each kid they eagerly give me their bowl patiently waiting as I fill each one. Some smile and tell me their names. Some are shy and hide their face. I start noticing as the line is moving how many of them have distended abdomens. This reaction is usually a link to extreme hunger. My heart breaks thinking of the conditions they live in. Our host explains to us that for some of these kids, this is the only meal they eat every week. Kathleen pulls me aside and asks me if I’d like to walk through the community and pray over the homes. As we start our walk with God I have a feeling of pity set in. I’m sad for these people. It’s so unfair that these kids have to live this way and I was born in to such privilege. How is it that these kids are still happy here? They have practically nothing.
As I ponder this initial reaction I had, I am led to the verse in Scripture that talks about how it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God. Though some of these people in my eyes may be very poor and I pity them, they sure don’t pity themselves. Their eyes aren’t full of sadness. They are full of light. They may not have all the material things that I treasure so much back home but it doesn’t seem to matter. As this realization sinks in I look around me. The people are full of laughter. They carry genuine joy and selflessness. They find their riches in the things that God has given them; their family, their life, the beauty around them. Suddenly it’s no longer about me changing their world but them changing mine.
I came in with my noble expectations that I was the world changer and they needed me, but I was wrong. They don’t need me. They have God. You know when you meet someone and instantly you are at peace with yourself and your life because the person you are with is? That is how the Filipino people are, pretty much as a whole. They will laugh with you, cry with you, laugh at you crying, work along side you, share in their peace, and welcome you in to their homes without a question. They are at rest with their lives. They are content. Man, that’s rare.
If anyone is justified to sit in the victim circle and blame their circumstances it’s the people of Tacloban. Their entire world was wrecked by one of the biggest typhoons recorded. They never once complained about it. They were not living in a continual state of want. They live in the state of gratitude, thanking God for redeeming their world.
Philippians 4:11 says, “not that I am speaking of being in need, for I learned in whatever situation I am to be content. “ Maybe these people have found the secret to happiness. They don’t rush. They aren’t worry warts. They are content. They have showed me what it looks like to just rest in the life that God has given us. To celebrate and laugh. To give and to love. But never to want. Maybe my view of “poor” is skewed.
Maybe those with distended bellies have full hearts and those with full bellies have distended hearts.
