plenty

As I set out for the grocery store today, I found myself more aware of how different all this is from what I used to do.  Somewhere, in my distant past, I’d get up early, like at 5:30 or 6, push my garage door opener, hop in our minivan, and drive five minutes to our local Walmart so that I could get the grocery shopping done before breakfast.

Not here.  Instead I wait until afternoon.  The shops don’t open until 10 a.m., and by then we’re deep into our homeschool day.  So I wait until I’m not needed around home as a teacher.  Then I walk through the hot midday sun a couple of blocks up the dusty street where I wait for an available taxi.  The taxi I took today was a nice minivan-ish sort of vehicle. 

 It’s a ten-minute ride to the store, and eight minutes into the ride, the driver mumbled something I didn’t fully understand and pulled to the side of the road.  He then said another phrase, and I finally understood.  It was time for a pit-stop.  “Okay-lang!” I said.  There’s no way that I’m going to put up a fuss about the call of nature.  He hopped out, and walked somewhere behind the taxi, off to the side of the road, I presume, to do his business.  Not that I was watching.  That’s just the normal taxi-driver routine ‘round these parts.  I restrained a chuckle when he climbed back in the taxi and pulled a filthy rag out of the glove compartment with which he meticulously wiped his hands.

Back in the US, I’d pull into the quiet Walmart parking lot, hop out of my van, dart through the doors and grab a huge cart.  Not here.  Instead I hop out of the taxi at a busy mall.  Yes, a mall.  That’s where all the grocery stores are.  I run up the stairs while I zip open my purse for the guard at the door to peek inside, and I pause for her to pat my backside, presumably checking to see that I’m not armed.    Then I wend my way through the mall, down a narrow stair case and through vendor’s stalls where the mixed pungency of lots of people, durian, and fried squid greets me, until I reach the grocery area.  

A guard stands at this entrance too, making sure I don’t bring any other packages into the store, like the computer paper I stopped to buy at the mall’s bookstore on the way in.  He sends me to take that package of paper back outside to a package holding area before going through another guard check to get back in the mall to go to the grocery store.  That done, I grab a small-ish cart and begin my shopping.

In the US, I’d sail down the wide aisles of Walmart, finding every item on my list, shopping all the sales.  Not here.  Sales are virtually unknown.  Except for the one rack of imported goods that have reached their expiration date.  But who cares about expiration dates?  I can find some great deals there…like a rare box of crackers for 80 cents, and diet lemonade mix for 50 cents, and here’s a box of granola for two dollars!  Yay!  Availability is always hit or miss.  Today there’s no packaged meat that I recognize.  There’s also no vanilla flavoring, no cream cheese, and no dried legumes besides lentils.  I haven’t seen cheese for weeks.  Oh!  But look!  They have IBC ROOTBEER!!!  Amazing!  One precious bottle goes in the cart as a surprise gift for Mark on Father’s Day.  (Don’t tell!)

Sigh.  No carrots in the produce section today, and no red tomatoes.  I’m so spoiled to even expect those things.  But the red papaya looks great!  I check the pasta bag for bugs, side step the cockroach in the aisle, and pretend not to see the mouse that just darted under the produce shelf.

It’s time to check out.  At Walmart I’d load the groceries onto the automatic belt, swipe my debit card and walk away in a few minutes with bagged groceries, extra cash, and all with the help of just one employee.  Not here.  

I load the groceries onto the belt, but it may or may not work.  So I push food up toward the checker as she tallies my items.  I hand her my Visa card, and she carries it off to the next register, where there’s a card machine.  After a few minutes she comes back to hand me a receipt in duplicate to sign.  Then she writes down my Visa number on a recycled piece of paper that is at the checkout presumably for that purpose. That feels just a little sinister, but we haven’t had any Visa problems as a result…yet.    

Meanwhile at least one, sometimes up to four other employees help to bag my groceries.  One saunters off to get a cart for my bags (the cart I used for shopping doesn’t fit through the narrow checkout lane to the other side) while another leaves to check a price for the cashier.  Two more are loading my purchases into sturdy bags, talking and laughing together about the strange items I’ve bought.  I’m glad I can bring some smiles to their day.

It’s finally time to go.  Back at Walmart I might have stopped at McDonald’s for a coffee on my way out the door, then smoothly pushed my cart straight to my van, where I’d load the bags in the roomy trunk, ditch the cart in its corral, and be home in another five minutes.

Not here.  Here I have another couple of stops to make.  I need bacon, so I go down the mall a couple of doors to the bakery.  Yes, this is where I can find bacon.  And sometimes deli ham, too.  I also grab a loaf or two of French bread.  I check out, and the cashier doesn’t have change for a 500 peso bill (worth just over $10), so I give her the last 3 hundreds I have, first making sure that I have enough small bills for taxi fare home.  Then I head back down the mall to the meat store, since I couldn’t find meat in the grocery.   Only to find that the meat store is closed for renovation.  Wasn’t it closed last year at this time for renovation?!?  No meat.  Oh well.  Meat’s over-rated anyway.

Before I head out the door I grab a 10 peso coin from my wallet – I want to be prepared to tip the porter who always loads my groceries into the taxi.  He looks like he could really use the extra money.  I head toward the exit where yet another guard checks my receipt.  The porter hurries over to usher my cart toward a cab, where he pops open the front door and loads my bags inside.  I slip him the tip, hop in, and I’m on my way home.  In the taxi, I text a family member to let them know I’m coming, since I’ll need help when I arrive to unload the groceries at the gate so the taxi can be on its way.

 Yes, this is a little different than what I used to do.  But I have it so very good.  Plenty of food, provision from God to feed our family.  I have fully stocked shelves with more than we need.  How many people are praying each day for their daily food, and mine is so easily obtained?  May I not forget God’s goodness in all of my plenty.

not your average kitchen ware

 I went looking the other day for a new dish rack,

since ours is beginning to rust.

I think dish racks must not be common commodities in the average Filipino home.

I found this green one for about $25.

Only I couldn't figure out how to make it stay upright.

 

 My other choice was this very creative pink house version.

I think I'll live with the rust for a while...

:)

the rest of the story

Maybe you remember the recent antics of the ants,

and how we just couldn't keep them away from our bulletin board?

Well their determination finally exceeded  my tolerance level,

so I stripped off all of your lovely Christmas cards and photos 

and the background paper, and this is what was left:

 Can you see all the paper dust on the board and on the stairs below?

And the board was littered with ants busily running out of one tack hole into another.

So we took our handy vacuum and sucked up all the white dust,

and any moving ant in the vicinity.

Then I sprayed it down with a body spray.

(Seriously, folks, ants really don't like the stuff.)

The next day, I saw Amy paused next to the board on her way upstairs.

"Can you hear them, Mom?"

It was unbelievable.  

With my ear an inch or two away, it sounded like the board was alive.

There was scurrying and rustling, and we realized,

we are hosting a nest of ants.

Several vacuumings

and even more dousings of body spray later,

it's now eerily quiet inside our bulletin board.

I think...

the ants might be gone...

Or maybe they've just moved back to the kitchen...

the order of the day

Jane Austen

 from Pride and Prejudice:

"I should like balls infinitely better,' she replied, 'if they were carried on in a different manner; 

but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting.  

It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day.'"

 

It's prom season in the US,

but that means banquet season here in Davao.

 This was Michael's first year to get to attend, 

and he was a good sport to pose with his sisters before they set off on their separate ways.

 

The guys had a back massage line going...

how did you get at the front of the line, Michael?

Try all you want guys,

these two ain't no angels.

Meanwhile the high school met for a masquerade banquet,

though the masks didn't seem to get much use...

Lots of games and laughter,

food and skits,

friends and memories,

and...oh yes, conversation

were the order of the day.

things not seen

Ann was just thirteen years old when she and her three siblings came down with the measles.  Raised in a quiet rural setting on this Filipino island, though the immunization was free, they never did get the measles vaccine.   

And it wasn’t just a simple case of measles.  It was serious enough to claim the lives of her two sisters, and to blind both Ann and her 15 year-old brother.  The doctor had hopes that he might help Ann to recover some of her vision, but Ann’s parents rejected the treatment, fearful that it might bring even more grief.

A few years later, after the death of both of her parents, Ann moved to the city where she found a job at a blind massage center.  She was trained to strengthen her hands to ease the tension from the shoulders of people she could not see.  Then Ann got pregnant, and though the responsibility was weighty, the new infant girl was her delight.    

Visiting her aunt, Ann left the baby with her for a short time to rest.  But while she slept, Ann’s aunt took the 2-week old baby and sold it to another family, believing that Ann in her blindness wasn’t capable of raising the child on her own.

Ann was in despair.  She quit attending church, angry and wounded.  She married a quiet, stable young man, also partially blind, and found some solace in his care for her, but two years later she’s still struggling with the loss of her baby.  She knows the child is living somewhere in another city, but not only will Ann never see her daughter, she will never hold her in her arms again. She says that she finds it so hard to forgive, yet a voice inside tells her that is what she must do.  

Ann is now at our local church with her husband, longing for comfort and peace.  She’s listening to the book of Job, trying to come to terms with God’s sovereignty and His ability to bring life out of pain.

And though Ann may never be fully comforted in this life, though all of her grief may not be erased, she has a hope that reaches beyond all this.  Her hope stems from God’s own searing agony, in willingly sending His own precious Child to a destiny of suffering, appointing Christ to bear the judgment for her sin so that even in her temporary pain, she might never know a day apart from Him.

God had one son on earth without sin, but never one without suffering.

 – Saint Augustine

 Ann trusts in Christ’s work for her.  She knows that her sight will one day be restored and her grief will be soothed.     

One day, outside of this brief window of time, the rest of us who rest in His grace will also be freed from our own physical pain and our own individual sorrows.  Because of that day, we can already by faith, in the midst of pain, praise Him for rescuing us from the domain of darkness through the voluntary sacrifice of His only Son.  

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1

take a stand

"A family should be composed of one husband, one wife, and their children.  Do you agree or disagree?"

Elise's Bible teacher staged a walking debate for her class.  As he made various controversial statements, the students took their places under signs in the room labeled: "Strongly Agree," "Not Sure," and "Strongly Disagree." 

In the wake of all the recent news coverage regarding the definition of family, Elise was staggered to see many of the Korean students strongly disagree with this statement about the traditional composition of family.

Until the teacher asked them to defend their position.  Their response was, "What about the grandparents?"

to the Giver of the song

Michael on trumpet at last week's band concert

 Praise Him, 

sun and moon;

praise Him, all you shining stars.

the advanced middle school band - Michael in the back row, center, on trumpet

 Praise Him, you highest heavens

and you waters above the skies.

the high school instrumental class - Amy on flute, front row, right side (looks like she dyed her hair red! she didn't.)

Let them praise the name of the LORD,

for at His command they were created...

Psalm 148:3-5

Many thanks to an inclusive school,

and to a talented and committed teacher (thanks, Mr. B!)

for opportunities to make music together,

with the united goal of bringing glory to the Giver of the song...

*and thank you, Elise, for the photos! :)

family reunion

can you find us 5 in this recent church retreat photo?

...by your blood you ransomed people for God
from every tribe and language and people and nation,
and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God...

Revelation 5:9-10

 What a gift it is,

to fellowship every week with some of the redeemed

from other tribes and languages,

worshiping together with the people of this Philippine nation.

We long for the day when we can introduce you all:

our sweet brothers and sisters in Christ on this island

to all of our loved brothers and sisters from our homeland

in a never-ending fellowship of the children of God in Glory.

What a family reunion that will be!

a state of inelegance

Filipino summer is here,

which means temperatures are high;

with the heat index it's been reaching 104F every day,

and not cooling off much at night.

What dreadful Hot weather we have!—

It keeps one in a continual state of Inelegance. 

–Jane Austen

Jane knew what it was like to live in the heat without air conditioning!  

It's truly draining.

And to top it off, 

we're also having the first series of water outages that I can remember since 2010. 

These have been short-lived, between 1 and 4 hours, 

usually in the morning until noon.

After washing the breakfast dishes this morning, 

we found that the taps were again empty.

 

And now,  8 hours later, we're still without water.

The lunch dishes are still piled in the sink

(to the delight of the ants!)

at 4:30 in the afternoon,

and I'm beginning to wonder about creative solutions

for cooking dinner with no running water - 

in fact with little water at all.

(You can see all the empty water containers we've used up already by the sink,

though we are working to be very sparing.)

You don't want to use our bathrooms right now, either.

Have no fear - the water will come back on, and we'll be fine.

But the absence of water really truly does make the heart grow fonder.

I am more thankful for running water than I've ever been in my life.

Give thanks with me for the water from your tap today,

but even more, for the living water

and the gift of eternal life, satisfying the deep thirst of our souls!

Jesus answered her,

 “If you knew the gift of God,

 and who it is that is saying to you, 

‘Give me a drink,’ 

you would have asked Him, 

and He would have given you living water.

John 4:10

washing feet

This week Michael Card,
Christian singer, songwriter and musician,
traveled to Davao to share his music in concert.

He was interviewed on the radio by our friend, Vic, 
and when asked his advice for young artists,
he responded that:
 every song should wash the feet of the listener.

Michael's music and presence did that here,
encouraging us to lament our sin,
find grace in Christ,
and respond by washing one another's feet.

Our family had the privilege of meeting him in person,

 

 and he also came to sing
and to challenge the students of Faith Academy.

 Michael's been merging insight from God's Word
with beautiful music for 30 years.
I think he has washed lots of feet.

Michael and Michael

 Thanks for your visit to Davao!

If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, 
you also ought to wash one another’s feet.  
For I have given you an example, 
that you also should do just as I have done to you.

John 13:14-15
 

like kids in a candy shop

Last Sunday afternoon some of us gathered at church for a card-making workshop.

We talked about the basics of design and color, and introduced stamping and lettering.

And then we acted like kids in a candy shop,

reveling in creating,

having fun sharing a task, and lots of exciting materials,

young and old, working together.

Not only did we create some beautiful cards,

we created beautiful memories!

Thank you, ladies, for a wonderful time.

Let's do it again sometime soon.

♥

say cheese

I picked up three Red Lady papayas 

in the produce section of our local supermarket 

and carried them to the station where items being purchased are weighed and labelled.  

As I waited, I noticed a young store employee standing next to my cart,

which I had left behind at the papaya display.  

He was peering with curiosity at the items inside.  

By the time I returned, I found him holding the small block of mozzarella that I'd chosen,

reading the label to figure out what this mysterious American planned to purchase.  

I smiled at him, 

and he smiled at me as he placed the block of cheese back in my cart, 

probably wondering what in the world I'd do with such strange food. 

“The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.”

-G.K. Chesterton 

Delectable Cheese Rolls:

Roll out 1/2 of the bread dough from this recipe for Yeasty Once-Rising Rolls as if making cinnamon rolls.

Spread lightly with softened butter.

Top with :

              a dusting of Parmesan,

              a scattering of grated Mozzarella,

              a sprinkling of powdered garlic,

              and a few dashes of Italian seasoning.

Roll it all up, and cut it just like you would for cinnamon rolls.

Rise for 1/2 - 1 hour on a greased cookie sheet, or in a 9x13 pan.

Bake at 350 for 20 minutes, or until golden on the top.

Serve with salad for lunch or with spaghetti for dinner,

and top it all off with one of those Red Lady papayas for dessert.