When I have thought of the Philippines in the past, pictures of beautiful islands with white sand, and clear waters surrounding them came to mind…
So when our contact directed our taxi down a small little road in the middle of the slums of Manila, to a church by a trash-filled river, I knew our experience would be very different from the pictures in my head.
Now, I’ve begun this blog with quite a somber picture for you, have I not?
Disclaimer: While my time in the Philippines was difficult in many ways, there was so much joy and laughter and praise in the midst of it. So please keep reading.
We had the privilege of serving in a church called Christ’s Power and Grace Church. Romans 6:14 has become the testimony and vision.
we are under grace, not under the law.
During our time there, we helped with feedings at various slums in the area, teaching the children in their school, playing with the children in the courtyard, sharing testimonies and songs, organizing art and teaching seminars, and establishing relationships with the youth.
Looking back, I see even more clearly that the month was packed.
We survived two typhoons!! Typhoon Mario was quite a doozy, and we woke up in the morning with water blowing in (literally sidewise!) and water sitting in puddles and running under our tents. It was the first time I ever had to wear a rain jacket inside! Despite being convinced our roof was going to blow off during the storm, we were safe and somewhat dry (after covering the windows with boards). We even had a contingency plan in place if we had to evacuate the building and venture into the water! Surely two sleeping pads could each keep three people afloat!
We had a new team name for a week! Parent Vision Trip occurred during the first week of September, so three of Team Koinonia headed off to spend time with their moms. We had the privilege of welcoming Jade and Raquel to our team for the week. During one of our first evenings, it began raining. Since the roof had just recently been finished, the rain found all the little cracks and holes that had not yet been filled, and it enthusiastically poured into our rooms, soaking sleeping pads, papers, etc. We scurried around, clearing out all our belongings, and then huddled together near the drip buckets. Since there was nothing else to do, we came up with our team name –Team Grace Like Rain!!!
My Kelty home. I got to use my tent this month!!
And yes, that’s significant—
I didn’t pack it all around the world for nothing! 🙂
“Where’d ya go? I miss you so.” Almost everyone on our team had some sort of sickness this month. Andie-girl’s sickness was the most serious, and she chose to go home to recover completely and join us in Africa. It’s so strange not to see my sister friend…I’ve seen her every day for 8 months…
Keep her in your prayers? Thanks.
Flying cockroaches. They exist. They fly into our air space. Shrieks ensue. Water bottles fly. Shoes are hurled ferociously. And a smashed cockroach lies on the floor as we do our triumphant warrior dance.
(Yes, I’m exaggerating. But only about the triumphant warrior dance.)
Prayer warriors. Every morning Monday-Friday, women of the church gathered together from 4:00-6:00 and prayed, worshipped, and read God’s Word. They faithfully fight for their community, and said the names of our team by name. The Joy of the Lord really is their strength. Their hugs and laughter and warm welcomes were such a blessing. They are dangerous women.
Heart of compassion. There were many difficult and challenging things this month. Praying for a malnourished little boy. Seeing many children in hospitals. Crawling through little spaces to get to houses that are smaller than my bathroom. Smelling the river and smoke on the breeze. Hearing stories of loss. Imagining life with little options. Aching for the ability to communicate clearly. Feeling hopeless in the enormity of the challenges these people face every day. My heart grew tired. The Holy Spirit reminded me of when Jesus was here on this earth, and He “was moved to compassion.” I asked God to keep my heart from growing numb, so His compassion would compel me to reach out.
“Painted in His promise.”
After one of the feedings, Erica, our squad leader, described the slums with these words. I didn’t agree with her at first…I didn’t see any color other than brown…and I didn’t see His promises. But now…when I hear this phrase, I think of beautiful eyes smiling up at me. I remember “Ate Jessica!” being yelled across the courtyard. I hear the sound of the youth singing and praising God with open hearts and talented voices and hands. I picture the rambunctious boys yelling and laughing while they wait for the food. I remember the feeling of little hands slathering fingernail polish onto my fingers. I read notes from my new friends and remember their prayers for us before we left.
During our Leadership Development Weekend, we had a time of reflecting on the month. This is what God spoke to me.
“Daughter, do you find My love incapable of transcending poverty, sickness, pain, and dirt? I live. I thrive in the homes of my children in the slums. My Spirit hovers over the waters of the river. Look deeper.”
I know I couldn’t always see it then, but looking back, I can see the royalty of God…His purple threads weaving through, in, over, and around His children.
