Philippines Adventure, Pt. 12

I just finished reading a carefully crafted novel, which reminded me of the resplendent character of the written word and why movies can be such awful permutations to the imagination and to the narrative of a creative mind. I guess that proves that what God has created can never be outdone by what man creates. Movies these days are products of special effects and modern technology, great rifts of dissonance and noise that aim to impress an increasingly hardened and jaded public. But, books are the product of our God-given imagination and the talent to weave, rebound and metamorphose that God has instilled in human beings that makes us unique of all the created beings. When I read an exquisitely turned page, where the words move and jive in a peaceful rhythm, I see God’s handiwork, and I feel joy. Even the most obtuse scenes, which are sometimes jarringly surreal, I can appreciate because the author is making use of a Divine gift and bringing to life his/her consciousness. I wish all writing made us think of the Creator and Savior, but as in all things, we humans tend to miss the mark, focusing not on the Originator of all things but on the created and flawed being, which is always lackluster compared to the original. Thank God for Jesus, who has made those who believe whole again.

I think I am going to start writing more. I really want to improve my vocabulary. There is such richness in language and I think the more specific I can be in my life, the more authority I have over my circumstances. After all, God gave us speech for a reason. There is life and there is death in the tongue (Proverbs 18:21), so I want to bring life and encouragement and joy to people through my words and the words that Christ spoke oh so many years ago, but still carry life and promise today. It’s like camping: you can have the best of time, if you have the right supplies, but if you do not have the correct survival items, it is far less enjoyable. I want to have the right supplies as I embark down this road, using language as a weapon to crush strongholds and to edify my body as I discipline it with actions.

Four Scoops of Water, and I’m clean

Since the conference, we have lacked a continuous water supply. Someone forgot to keep the water tank full during the conference, so that means that we only have running water for about one hour a day for the past week, and I guess it did not rain as much as it should during the month of December. (I should not have been so thankful for the lack of rain!) I feel like I am in a communist nation or fast-forward in the future when we have to ration water because places like Phoenix and Las Vegas have pilfered all our fresh water supply. I could not go on a bathing strike in a place like the Philippines, where people are so clean soap looks dirty.

So, I have a nice rhythm now for taking a shower. First, I go on a run and get all sweaty and warm. Then, I get into the shower with a big blue basin in front of me that also dubs as the flushing mechanism for the toilet—this works pretty well except when, you know… Anyway, I take one scoop of water, which is probably about a liter of water, and quickly pour it over my head while doing a little dance to prepare myself for the rush of cold little knives that pierce my whole body. By the time the water has coated me on the second scoop, I am doing okay. I lather up then use the next two scoops to wash off the soap. So, four scoops of water, then I’m good to go, contemplating the next time and realizing that it is not so bad to have this rudimentary sort of bath. It makes you feel alive and is really an aerobic exercise ☺ I hope the water rights itself soon. I guess this is the first time they have had such a problem with it. Lucky me!

Adventure with the Irish folk at the Sunnyside Resort

Screaming children, broken van, spewing jeepney: Happy Family Staff and the Johnstons, our Irish missionary friends, are off to the hot springs. We loaded up the jeepney and started to putter up the hill, seemingly outside the bounds of time. I like that about the Philippines; you have a purpose, but it does not really matter when it gets accomplished. Here, we move with desultory passion, which may seem contradictory outside of the Filipino realm, but I think it is very possible to be passionate but lack a certain enthusiasm or focus that people in the West tend to have, often gyrating a little too heavily with their daily mundane tasks. How much energy do we need to expend in our perfectionist and over-zealous ways?

After a flat tire and a round of significant bumps, which cause me to hit my head innumerable times on the top of the jeepney, we arrived at the Sunnyside resort, which was comprised of several very nice nipa and bamboos huts and four pools, heated by the hot springs, like tepid bath water. Only one was really hot, too hot in the beginning until they started to pour cool water into it to lower the temperature. (I wanted to take some of this water home so I could have a warm bath!) We brought a ton of food and were eating from the time we arrived at 8 am until we left at 2 pm. I played with all the little kids, which was a delight. I have decided that I love it when children are in good moods and are having fun. There childhood innocence is inspiriting and exhilarating, reminding me that to have fun, all you need to do is immerse yourself in the moment and trust those around you. I was so tired by the time we left from all their activity and from the sun and the good food.

One of the most special moments of the trip was when I was holding Hannah on the ride back to the school. (Hannah is the little two-year old daughter of two of the staff members who are married.) It was a bumpy ride, but she had nestled into the crook of my arm and was sound asleep, waking only once to give me this querying look as if to say, “Am I okay?” I smiled at her and tried to make her more comfortable. It reminds me of God the Father. Jesus told us that we must be like a child to inherit the kingdom of God (Luke 18:17). I finally understood what that meant. Here we were in the jeepney, bouncing around uncontrollably; yet, Hannah had found simple peace in the knowledge that I was a reliable caretaker, so she slept. Until we surrender to God as our caretaker, knowing that he will never leave us or forsake us, we cannot have peace. But, like little Hannah who slept amidst the bumps and the unfavorable conditions, we can sleep in the Saviors arms if we just have faith and use that faith to have peace and joy. How lovely! I surely do not want to go back to that age of being a child, but I know that I am striving for a lifestyle of simple trust in a reliable savior. My body and soul were warmed by this experience