remind me again

"Aio!" Five little voices chimed at my gate, 

so young, so expectant.  "Plasteek?" 

I knew they were looking for recycleables, 

and since I had some to share, I went to meet them.

Their bubbling excitement when I gave them old plastic bottles and tin cans made me smile.

Our trash was like treasure; pure joy.

They energetically worked together to divvy up the spoil,

counting it out and sharing equally with one another.

What will they get from this little bit of trash?

A few pesos?

I brought them some packages of cookies as a snack.

They opened each new package delightedly, 

sharing bites of the different types of cookies with one another,

glorying in the unexpected goodness of it all.

And as this little troupe of waifs left my gate, they all looked back with waves,

shouting "Salamaat Po!" Thank you! 

 I watched their companionship and care for one another,

and was reminded of how the body of Christ should look.

A band of people united in purpose, 

looking out for the welfare of one another.

A contented people, smiling at God's goodness 

even when we are not rich in worldly goods.

A people amazed by the treasure we find in Christ, 

and in His gifts to us each day, 

eager to share the spoils of His Word 

and the riches of His goodness with one another.

A people overflowing with respectful thanks

to the God Who abundantly provides all that we need.

I hope those boys come back soon;

I need all the reminders I can get.

another kind of thanksgiving prayer

O God, when I have food,
help me to remember the hungry; 

 

hungry for the Word in their own language

When I have work,
help me to remember the jobless; 

When I have a home,
help me to remember those who have no home at all; 

 

When I am without pain,
help me to remember those who suffer, 

And remembering,
help me to destroy my complacency;
bestir my compassion,
and be concerned enough to help;
By word and deed,
those who cry out for what we take for granted.
Amen.
 

A Thanksgiving Prayer by Samuel F. Pugh

oranges

He was just a small boy. Perhaps eleven years old. Our car was stopped at a traffic light, where he made his way to our open window. One hand was raised in supplication; the other led a middle-aged man. A blind man.

The boy was quiet with dark serious eyes. I reached down to the floor of the car and pulled up a small bag of kiat-kiat, satsuma-type oranges. They were the remains of a snack we had brought for our day’s outing. Leftovers.
 

I handed the bag to the small boy. “Oranges for you,” I said. And I smiled. At first he looked confused. Then he took the bag from my hand and turned. Gently he guided the blind man through the traffic to the side of the road. There I watched as the boy raised the bag to his nose, inhaling. He then lifted it higher, to the nose of the blind man, so that he too could breathe in the sweet fragrance.

Oranges. Not just food. Food that no beggar would use money on. A luxury food.

I wished that we hadn’t eaten any.

The traffic light turned green. Our car began to edge through the intersection. I looked back one more time, and the eyes of the boy caught mine. His chin and eyebrows lifted in greeting. His face washed over in a smile.  And I smiled. And I think God smiled.

 *edited from the archives

hungry?

Are you hungry?  I mean so hungry that you would sniff glue or smoke a banana leaf just to alleviate some of the hunger?  Having no idea where your next meal will come from? 

“I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me shall not hunger.”  

John 6:35  

Then this proclamation of Jesus may be of critical importance to your life.

Are you thirsty?  In a place that is so hot that you battle dehydration on a daily basis?  Perhaps in a place where the water is not potable, and must be filtered or boiled before you drink it?

Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” 
John 4:13-14

Then the life-giving water offered by Jesus might be exactly what you have most longed for.

Are you living in darkness?  With inconsistent power supply, routine electrical outages, or no electrical power at all in your home?  

"I am the light of the world.

Whoever follows Me will not walk in darkness,

but will have the light of life."

John 8:12

In your darkness you may be more keenly aware of your need for the light of His presence.

Are you living in pain?  With absolutely no resources to seek out medical help?  Are you watching your child suffer in silence, with no money to consult a doctor?

 So His fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought Him all the sick, 

those afflicted with various diseases and pains, 

those oppressed by demons, epileptics, and paralytics, and He healed them.

Matthew 4:24

In your pain and need, His power to heal may be the best news you've ever heard.

Do you live in a city with blind beggars at the street corners, arms outstretched, beseeching mercy?

When he came near, Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”

“Lord, I want to see,” he replied.

Jesus said to him, “Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.”

Luke 18: 40-42

Then this man who has the power to restore sight to the blind might offer unheard-of hope to your heart.

How meaningful and applicable is the good news of Christ to our world today!  Here in the U.S. we've insulated ourselves from much of our need, but as a result, we may have lost something of the significance of His provision, and the depth of gratitude that we truly owe.

'The Bible is alive, it speaks to me; 

it has feet, it runs after me; 

it has hands, it lays hold of me.'

 – Martin Luther

rice or bread?

"Maayong hapon," we greeted the taxi driver as we stepped into his cab, giving directions in the Visayan language.  He turned in surprise.  Not many westerners learn this Filipino dialect.  Foreigners usually speak Tagalog, the national language.  "Do you speak Visayan?" he asked. His rapid-fire questions and comments dominated the remainder of our ride.

At one point he asked, "Do your children eat rice? Or bread?" 

"Okay," I thought, "it's a simple cultural question. Will your western kids tolerate eating our traditional staple?"

Amy digs into a plate of rice

I began to answer that yes, our children eat rice, though in all honesty, any one of us would be happy to trade a bowl of rice for a slice of freshly baked bread. My mind swept back momentarily to fondly recall the warm homemade cinnamon bread we had for breakfast, the cheesy homemade pizza from the night before, the pancakes and buttery rolls we eat as often as rice.

The driver interrupted my reverie as he continued his thought, confronting me with the real issue.  "Bread is for the rich. Rice is for the poor."  It was not an accusation. Just a simple fact.

Now I can't get the question out of my head. "Do you eat rice? Or bread?"

Rice is the staple food of over 1/2 of the world's population. In much of Asia, rice is so important that the word is almost synonymous with food. Here in the Philippines (according to a 2006 survey) 68 million out of the 90 million inhabitants live on $2 a day. And they're not spending it on Panera bagels.

So why was I born a bread-eater?

"For who regards you as superior? 
What do you have that you did not receive?" 
1 Cor. 4:7

Not only is 1/2 the world eating rice, but often they don't have enough of it to satisfy. Over one billion people across the world are hungry. Not just peckish. Really hungry. As a result they deal with chronic undernourishment, vitamin and mineral deficiencies, stunted growth, weakness and heightened susceptibility to illness. They live in countries lacking the social safety nets we enjoy in the U.S. like unemployment checks, soup kitchens, and food stamps. There is simply nowhere to turn for help.

But what about those with a far deeper hunger? What about the millions of people who don't know about the Bread of Life? About Christ, who is the only source of nourishment to feed their deepest hunger, their eternal need?

And what about Christians who have tasted this Living Bread, but who, without God's Word in their own language, deal with chronic spiritual undernourishment, stunted growth, weakness and heightened susceptibility to false teaching? They live in countries where there is no pastoral training, no teaching resources, and nowhere to turn for help.

Our early Christian counterparts braved cruel persecution and trial, and in devotion to Christ and to the truth that set them free, gave their lives to bring this Bread of life to those who hungered. I have benefited from their sacrifice. Now what does it mean for me?

"You are already filled; 
you have already become rich..." 
1 Cor. 4:8a  

Bread is for the rich. I am rich. And I am responsible. Responsible before my Maker, from whom I have received every single thing I enjoy. 

I must not be lulled into thinking that my rich American lifestyle is what pleases God. 

 "Have I not wept for those in trouble? 
Has not my soul grieved for the poor?" 
Job 30:25.

 
I must weep.
I must grieve.
And then I must share some Bread.

 *edited from the archives

perched on stilts at the ocean's edge

Inday comes from a home like these,

 perched on stilts at the ocean's edge, 

sandwiched together in close community.  

 Before dawn each morning the fathers and the big brothers paddle their double-outriggers out to sea where they fish and dive, returning back home with food for their families along with pearls and edibles to sell. Mothers and big sisters search for shellfish on the tidal flats, care for their home, sell used clothing at the market, and weave intricate mats. The young children run the city streets barefoot, expectantly requesting a bit of food or a peso from everyone they meet.  

Afternoons find the fathers strolling the wharves to vend the family-harvested pearls, or building boats for their own use and for sale, repairing nets, and resting from the morning's work, sharing stories with friends who gather to relax. Come evening, young and old drink a soothing cup of coffee and retire early, falling asleep on woven mats, ready to rise before dawn again the next day.

But for Inday it’s different.  She makes a friend who helps her to get an education. Inday is accepted to college and studies dental hygiene.  She mixes with others, makes her way, finds a job and begins a new career, a more prosperous and hopeful life in the flurry of the city.

Not long afterward, the friend contacts Inday only to find that she has left it all.  The work, the city, the new lifestyle.  She has gone back to her home like this one, perched on stilts at the ocean's edge.  She is back with her family, in her community.  “It’s easier here,”  Inday says.  

Easier?  With a tin roof and worn out clothes and no steady income or running water? Easier?  With a local reputation for poverty, uneducated laborers for neighbors, and no hope of advancement or a better life?  

Easier?

How could it be easier to be poor?  

Maybe my definition of poverty is too narrow.  Is poverty a gnawing hunger for food, never having enough to eat?  Is it sleeping on a cold dirt floor, or living under the dark shadow of a bridge?  Is it being clothed in worn out clothing, grown ragged with wear?

Or does being poor mean a hollow unmet hunger for relationship?  Or sleeping in a perfectly decorated house where hearts have grown cold, living under the dark shadow of loneliness?  Or is poverty wearing the latest fashions masking a spirit clothed in ragged weariness with it all?  

Two kinds of poverty. It’s hard to decide which one is more debilitating.

Maybe if true wealth is not entirely defined by the possessions we own, but also by connection to the family we love, by relationship with others who understand us and care about us,  then yes, living in a home like Inday’s, perched on stilts along the ocean’s edge could truly be better than alienation by affluence.

 

Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, 

for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.

Luke 12:15

*thanks to J for his insights on Inday's culture

the food of Easter

Oh no.  He's there again.  Right outside the department store door, between me and my grocery bags filled with the food I’ve just purchased for Easter and the street where I'll catch a jeepney for home.  He's standing as usual.  Dirty tatters cover his legs, spread wide for balance, and his arms reach high in supplication as he mutters his plea for alms.  He won't see me avert my eyes and look away.  I look anywhere but at his disfigured face and blind eyes.  He won't see me.  And I don't want to look at his suffering, or to get anywhere near it.

Could this somehow be a failure on the part of God, that this man should know such shame and misery?  Is God in reality not powerful enough to eradicate his suffering...and for that matter, the suffering in my life, and in yours, and in the lives of those we love?

Or is all this suffering somehow mysteriously linked to that hill in Israel where Almighty God carried out the final horrible details of an earth-shaking, history-making plan masterminded even before He spoke this earth into existence?  

Because He planned it just as it happened.

And all that dwell upon the earth shall worship Him, whose names are not written in the book of life

of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.

Revelation 13:8

The cross wasn't some cosmic disaster, nor a gentle gesture of sentimental goodwill somehow spun tragically out of control.  

Those one-inch thorns driven deep into Jesus' head,

the lacerated back laced with ribbons of bleeding flesh required to shoulder a 75 pound cross-beam,

tapered, square-shafted five-inch iron spikes pierced into the median nerve of the wrist, inflicting severe, excruciating pain,

His every breath an agony of effort,

and the darkness,

the worst of all.  

The darkness of God's wrath, as He turned His back.  

Every single detail was planned from before time.  God planned this suffering?  "Sometimes God allows what He hates to accomplish what He loves."  - Joni Eareckson Tada

Is it possible that our suffering may be exactly what God has planned to accomplish something far more valuable than comfort and happiness in our lives?

As I look at Christ’s outstretched arms, into His face distorted with agony, into this suffering,  is this not why I celebrate Easter?   Is this, after all, the real food of Easter?   Without His sacrifice I'm utterly helpless.  All my righteousness is like filthy rags, my eyes are blind to the gospel, and my life distorted by sin.  Could it be that I look to God exactly like this beggar man in front of me?

But because of His suffering I am brought back to God (1 Peter 3:18)  I am healed. (Is. 53:5)  I am forgiven. (1 Peter 2:24) 

Only by the suffering of Christ is my greatest suffering, my agonizing need for Him, finally filled.

Right here is the true food of Easter.

*edited from the archives

a huge gap

     The irony is intense; an affluent, beautiful western couple posed in all their expensive Gap fashion glory blazoned on a billboard over one of the poorest neighborhoods in our town.  These shanties line the river, and when the tide is low, the children play in the mud along the banks.

These children aren't wearing Gap jeans.  One pair would cost an entire 3 months of wages.

     The clash of East meets West, poverty meets wealth is common in this city of contrasts.  A fancy brand new mall is flanked by tiny makeshift food vendor stalls fabricated with cardboard, flapping tarps and tin.  On another street a gorgeous new mansion of an apartment building looms a literal stone's throw away from a squatter's shack featuring a mud floor and no electricity or running water.  Zoning is unknown.  Rich and poor live side by side, in stark contrast across a huge invisible gap.

     But I know that there's another bigger gap.  A bigger disparity than the amount of money neighbors may have in their pockets.  There's a greater poverty, and a greater wealth than the financial one you can see here.  And there is no zoning for this huge gap in the U.S. either.  No zoning for those who, because of Christ's poverty, have become rich in grace.

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 

that though He was rich, 

yet for your sake He became poor, 

so that you by His poverty might become rich.  

2 Corinthians 8:9

Do you, like me, live next door to poverty?
And how might God desire to use us to narrow the gap?

a greater poverty

I stand next to my sister at the sink.  She may not look like my sister, with her long black hair and brown skin.  But in all essentials, in Christ, she is my sister.   It’s a companionable task; she washes the dishes and I rinse them off, and we talk as we work together.  She tells me of what it was like to spend the night of the flood last July perched on the roof of their home while the waters reached to the door frames and her brother swam to rescue his elderly mother-in-law, and I tell her about the cold Canadian snowdrifts that rose to the door frames in my childhood.  We talk of her desire to learn dress making, and we laugh over my failure to sew zippers. 

Then we talk of housework, and she tells me that she loves to wash dishes, and I silently remember how nice it was to wash dishes in the hot soapy suds of my American sink.  I tell her that I like to see dishes come clean, too.  She then admits with an embarrassed shake of her black hair that ‘I don’t really like to wash clothes though.’  I quickly try to encourage her, saying that I like washing clothes, and that to make the drying and folding more enjoyable, I try to pray for the family members whose clothes I’m handling as I work.  

It’s then I’m bowled over by my lack of cultural sensitivity.  You’d think I’d be just a little more aware after 2½ years in this country.  She sweetly turns to me in reply and says that ‘it’s just such tiring work, scrubbing the clothes, and trying to get the stains out.’  I have a sudden mental picture of her, my sister, squatting at a tub of sudsy cold water, scrubbing between raw knuckles the family’s clothing.  In stark contrast, I envision myself effortlessly tossing dirty laundry into our automatic washing machine, spoiled beyond belief.

How is it that my sister in Christ toils hard over the washing while I push a few buttons? 

How is it that she should perch on a roof in a flood, wondering if they would survive the night, while I am cozy in my house, safe from all the elements? 

How can it be that learning dressmaking might mean the difference between not enough and subsistence for her, while failure to master sewing in a zipper is just a laughing matter for me? 

I have no answer.  

It was the life that God gave to each of us.   

He ordained, and here we are, next-door to one another in vastly different spheres.

And somehow this sister of mine, who labors long and arduous, who faces peril with no financial buffers, is infused with a joy that I don’t see all that often in my own life.  Somehow her radiant smile of contentment and trust in God outshines the smiles of many of her affluent western counterparts.   

How in the world could that be? 

Is it just possible that in a life jam-packed with challenges, her daily desperate dependence on the faithfulness of God has cultivated beauty of character that is worth far more than the luxuries of a washing machine and flood insurance and running hot water? 

God has lavished me with incredible luxuries.

Has He lavished you with luxury too?

But I wonder… have those luxuries done anything to cultivate fruit for His glory in my character? 

Have they increased my thankfulness, my contentment, my faith? 

Or…am I the one struggling with the greater poverty? 

For you say, I am rich,

I have prospered,

and I need nothing,

not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. 

Revelation 3:17

in their shoes

A friend from the U.S. posed a unique question to me one day.  

What could she do with her children at home

to help them better understand the lives of children 

in developing countries?

Out of that question came the following; 

a list of suggestions for a day in their shoes.  

By doing some or all of these activities, 

you just might get an amazing glimpse into the way many children in our world live.

A Day in Their Shoes:

- eat only white rice for the day; for breakfast, lunch and dinner

- or supplement the rice with a little bit of tropical fruit... bananas, pineapple and papaya are all affordable fruits, at least in the Philippines!

- eat all your food with only a spoon

- drink only water, and to be even more realistic, make it room temperature

- but try drinking it without a cup - out of a plastic bag with a straw...fun!
- use no running water for the day, or to be a little less drastic, use only cold running water
- take a sponge bath, not in a tub or shower (and remember to use that cold water)

- and use no soap; soap is expensive!

- spend the day in just one room of your house, or outdoors

- sleep together on the floor on a mat in that same room 
- walk everywhere you go that day - use no private or public transit

- simulate random power outages; these are very common in developing countries
- wear no shoes, or just flip flops if you go out, even if it's cold

- scrub some clothes by hand together, and hang them out to dry

- have your children do some manual labor for a very low wage

- or have them work for a 'rich' neighbor, and all they earn will go toward dinner for the family that night

- dig through your own trash to see if there's anything re-useable

- take off your watch and cover up your clocks; in a developing country, relationships are much more important than time!

- so take a walk through your neighborhood; stop and talk with everyone you see

- or just sit outside your house to talk (chika-chika!) as a family, welcoming neighbors to join you as they pass by
- but keep your mouth shut when you smile, so none of them will notice your rotting teeth  :(

- play with no toys today; instead see how many games you can make up using just a bag of rubber bands, or bottle caps, or other simple recyclables

- squat on the floor as you play your games!

For those who would like to add some more educational value to the experience, 

try one of the following...

-You might do a water purification science experiment and talk about the difficulty in finding clean drinking water in many parts of the world. You can then talk about the many types of illnesses (typhoid, cholera, amoebic dysentery) that come from drinking contaminated water.

-Sleep under a mosquito net and talk about mosquitoes and malaria. This is a major killer in developing countries and bug nets help to save lives. 

-This one may be too overwhelming, but it is very realistic. Visit a city dump. See the trash, smell the smells. Then talk about children living in dumps and looking for anything they can eat or sell.

End the day by giving thanks to God for all you have, 

and in asking Him how you might reach out to those who have so much less...

some of whom are your little brothers and sisters in Christ, 

and who you'll meet one day in Heaven!

What aspect of life in a developing country would be the biggest challenge to you?

a Christmas to forget

Her name was Washi, but she's also known as Sendong.  

She swept across this island of ours on Saturday night, 

and claimed almost 1,000 lives. (Source: BBC)

Many victims in coastal towns slept as she flashed into their homes at high tide,

washing them, and their entire villages out to sea.

Mass burials are being organized, 

and relief for tens of thousands of people in need of clean water, food and medicines.

Our home is in Davao, and we felt no effects of the flooding.


But we have friends who did, and they are deeply grateful 
to have only been flooded knee-high.


And we have friends who have family in flooded areas - one who was killed,
others who have simply lost
everything.

Is God really still in control?

We believe He is.

Even the winds and the waves obey His voice.

But please be praying for those who are facing 

a Christmas to forget.

People who have lost loved ones,

homes, whole villages,

everything they ever held dear on this earth.

Then hold those you love dearly a little closer this Christmas.

And give thanks...

come celebrate Christmas

It was the community Christmas Party...

a day of joy for about 300 children from the neighborhood,

planned and coordinated by Mrs. H, a dynamic woman with limitless energy,

who rallied an amazing number of helping hands!

The children flocked in the gates of the school at 2:30 p.m.
and were escorted to the field for a series of games.

They came dressed in their very best for this special event,
and the delight was contagious;
delight in a beautiful green grassy field,
delight in balls and friends to play with
and prizes to win.

Can you just feel the excitement?


Amy helped to lead games out in the blazing sun.

Elise was one of the game leaders too,

but she was happy when the games were done 
and she could go back to taking photos, her favorite pastime!

The games were perfect for all ages,

even for these tiny ones.

The children were supposed to be six years old to join the party, but we're pretty sure that the moms at the gate were stretching the age thing a bit, wanting their little ones to be in on the goodness.

The afternoon was so hot, that kids were sitting in the shadow of adults just to get some relief from the heat.

This tree was a haven for a group of very hot children.

After the games there were a couple of very effective drama presentations done by high school students,
and a gospel presentation in Visayan.

I love this photo -
the girl in the blue dress reminds me of the four men who brought their friend through the roof to see Jesus - she was lifting her little friend, so she could see above the crowd.
Sweetness.

What a beautiful thing...children's heads bowed in prayer.

What does life hold for these precious little ones?  

May the good news of Christ take root in their hearts,
giving them hope, giving them life.

Then it was time to eat.
A local church had labored long
to fill containers with nutritious food.

Here's one for you, Mrs. A.!  Raisa, in the middle of all the action!
She was so tickled when I told her I'd send you the link to the photo.  
She loves and misses you!

Full tummies, happy faces.
Life doesn't get much better than this.

Unless you are also a winner of one of the many raffle prizes
donated by local business people!

Myrjoan, one of our art contest winners,

won a raffle prize.  Boy, was she happy!!

All too soon it was over,
and they started the walk
or the trike ride home again.

What a joy and a privilege to be here -
to have relationships with some of these children,
to share with them just a little from the abundance we take for granted.

May the Christ of Christmas be made real to each one of them...
and to each one of us!
More real than the goodness of games and food and prizes.
For only in Him is true goodness found.