Quieted by the Father’s Love

This month, myself, my team, and my entire squad of 60 men and women have truly immersed in local culture by living among the poorest of the poor in the Philippines.

My team of six women, Team Shiloh has been staying in Squatters Village in San Buena, Cainta county, a slum area outside of Manila with an abundance of trash, foul smells, bad sewage, roach/lice infested shacks. The streets are lined with lots of kids running about and men and women lingering and squatting around playing bingo, gambling and smoking.

It's called Squatters Village because people are squatting on other people's land by building up shacks to live in for free. Some have lived here for 2-3 generations. Ate Mil, a Cells Alive church treasurer was born in the village as her parents lived here before her, and now that she's married and have a teenage son and other younger kids they have been "comfortably" making their home here, her sons may live here with their future families, unless the government make plans to tear down this area, which the Mayor of Cainta mentioned on our meeting with him, but it's a "sticky situation" as he said during our conversation.

Without official rent to pay, the San Buena villagers are prone to be lazy and have no pressure to go to work, many families have over ten kids (some without getting married first because of lack of wedding funds) and the kids are raised without education and are unable to read and write for life. Kids and adults often pee on the streets, we don't even blink anymore since we see this on a daily basis.

Many teammates and squadmates broke down this month after seeing these sights, experiencing such conditions for weeks on end and living among those that are broken in many ways.

For my team and I, it's the combination of the poverty and cleanliness of our living conditions, the lack of structure and timeliness in the Filippino culture, as well as the lack of quiet time (it's constantly noisy and distractions) that have gotten to us.

I experienced my big crying session at the beginning of this month when two of my teammates gave away the kitten we adopted on the streets the day before. The loss of the kitten made me realize that any comfort I give myself while on the race (even snuggling with a fluffy kitten) could be taken away at a moment's notice. I didn't ask for much this month, just a little mental peace and being able to laugh and have fun once in a while in the midst of all the discomforts, but even those things I'm not entitled to. There is nothing I encountered or have or own or the team has that I can take comfort in this month, it feels like. It's come down to this: that the only true comfort I can take in is God, I rest in my Father's love.

(I'm cuddling with our first kitten Shiloh who was later given to Darren, a young man in the village who wanted her.)

It came down to laying down my pride and shame and the days of frustrations gathered entirely to God and speaking it to the team- without holding anything back. I renewed myself at His feet, crying out all, washing away my tears with His Truth. Feelings of abandonment and neglect by teammates were replaced by His reassuring words to me:

He told me more of who I am in Christ:

If you've read thus far, you too, can ask God to give you words, pictures, feelings and even dreams of who you are to God. Because the God we believe in is real and is a person, you can ask Him specific questions and then take the time to listen for his response. Ask God about a specific issue that you or someone else is facing. Ask Him for one of His thoughts about how to release heaven into that situation. (Taken for Banning Liebscher's book, Journey of a World Changer.)