To be honest, this month has been hard. Yes, Philippines is hot, I knew that. Yes, I’m hitting that point in the Race where I just want to be done. Yes, I’m tired, all the time. And yes, I am frustrated. I’m frustrated that I love the Philippines, Boracay specifically, so much so that it is hindering my ability to connect with the people in Bulakan. I’m frustrated that I’m tired all the time, and have little energy to hang out with the locals. I’m frustrated that I see myself hiding and falling in the background because this is my 3rd time being with all 38 people on the squad. I don’t want to be around people.
If I’m being really honest, I am frustrated that I lost a teammate. A teammate went home after a week being in the Philippines. This is the same person that I have lived EVERY day with for the last 7 months, except 2 weeks during ‘man-istry’. This is the teammate that I prayed I wouldn’t have to be on a team with after Serbia, month 1, because I didn’t understand why I was on a team with him. This is also the teammate that pushed me to love better, love him better and be loved better. This is the teammate that pulled me out of my “don’t touch me” bubble, which was one way I pushed away being loved. We could say hard things and know without a doubt that they were coming from the heart. This was the teammate who I loved to love and loved to hate! (All good things!) And this is the teammate that went home. I was hurt, angry, frustrated, and sad.
My favorite country, the one month I was looking forward to was crumbling around me. The Philippines was the biggest reasons why I chose my specific route. And now I am starting to despise coming here.
I didn’t feel useful. I didn’t feel like I was doing anything productive. I was around locals, but I just couldn’t connect. I felt like I was talking to an empty room every time I spoke at the schools. I wasn’t looking forward to anything. I was letting the negativity around me seep into my thoughts and actions. I could do nothing about it.
My only highlight was riding on the back of the motorcycle when we needed to take a trike. I could feel the wind on my face, I wasn’t scrunched in the cart, and I could dangle my legs! I also had a better view of people on the side of the road.
The first time I was ever in the Philippines, I made it my personal goal to make every person on the roadside smile. I would stare them down, or just make eye contact, and pull a huge grin, showing my sparkling whites. If they were stubborn and wouldn’t smile, I would wave. Always got them on the wave, or at least settle with the nod with the raised eyebrows. I counted them all as accomplishments.
I didn’t get that feeling during most rides here in Bulakan. The Filipinos would smile and wave to me first. I still tried to wave and smile at everyone that said hello, but it felt almost empty.
Riding home from our big event at the Plaza, this song ran through my head. My large head was sticking out from under the cover of the motorcycle. It wasn’t until a Kutless song came across my mind, Smile.
“A smile says it all.. I see what a smile can say about me
I know that my words are not always what speak
Sometimes it’s not what I say
That the world around me seems to understand
Though everything’s the same
Inside there’s something real
A faith which causes me to change
What’s different now
A spark is gleaming in my eye
Like diamond stars that fill the sky
I think a smile says it all”
I might be struggling this month, but my smile says less about me, and more about why I’m here. Something is different about me compared to a lot of people, and that’s the Holy Spirit. My words might be in a different language, and words might land on deaf ears, but my smile can say more. I have a reason to smile, and in a third world country, that’s something of a rare thing. I know without a doubt no matter happens in this life, I can smile about my future, my future with my Heavenly Father. My smile goes above English or Tagalog, or any other language. My smile says I’m no better than anyone else, yet Jesus still died on the cross for my sins, and everyone’s sins.
Where words constantly fail me, my smile can say a lot.
A smile can say it all.
