Holding my Horses...

I'm kinda going crazy here.
Allow me to explain.
It has been a month since I saw a birth. Now while that may not seem so huge for you, it is VERY dramatic for me. I mean, it's pretty much like being a baker, but not being allowed to touch flour. Or being an engineer and never seeing blueprints. It's like being being a clown with no balloons. Like being a salesman with nothing to sell. Or like trying to be a Flamer with no flame.
Wait what??!!
What is a flamer anyways?
Let me tell you, I had the same question.
It was a Monday morning, and things were going as usual at the clinic. I was on prenatals that day, doing vitals, educating women about health, measuring fundal height, asking questions, and filling out forms. One woman came in with her paper work, and I couldn't help but notice that her husband was a flamer. A welder? A fireman? I began to ask questions.
Again and again she repeated herself and tried to explain. Suddenly, it dawned on me. In Visayan, F=P, vowels are a little wishy washy, and silly them, they don't have the wonderful silent 'p' we have in English. (note the dripping sarcasm). There it was. Flamer = Plumber. Clearly!

So back to the going crazy thing. I am surrounded by birth, pregnancy, and newborns. I take care of women at various points in their pregnancy. I work multiple shifts per week in a maternity clinic. I read about birth and pregnancy every chance I get. I give baby baths, and breathe through contractions with women, I clean up blood, amniotic fluid, and everything else that the body can excrete, and I sterilize and fold and stack and stock. Between my travels a few weeks back, and a series of slow birth room shifts, it has been a month since I actually witnessed a baby being born. So I'm holding my horses here. Trying to trust that these unanswered prayers are for a reason. Trying to be content in the ways I DO get to serve.
And waiting.
It's been a struggle, honestly. My friends are all far beyond me in experience, and I don't step foot inside the clinic without that yearning. My heart wants to question why 8 babies are born one morning, and that night, when I'm on shift, there are none. Sometimes I feel like asking God if He can hear me. Often my throat chokes up when we transport another woman to the hospital, or at the end of another uneventful shift. And though I'm happy with all my dear friends who are bubbling over with the joys of being part of new birth, sometimes I have to leave the room.
I have to speak to my heart.
Heart, I say, you must be content. You serve a God who IS GOOD. A God who hears and ANSWERS prayers. But you have given Him room to work as He sees fit. Now, my heart, rejoice in the Lord. Honor God for His great kindness toward you. The timing is not for you to know. This is what you must know: His faithfulness is everlasting. His mercies and justice are beyond our ability to comprehend.
So I'm trying to rest, and let God work.
I'm pretty sure my heart needs some fixing.

On Confessions...

Here is where  I live. Down the street from the vacant lot where this little group of kids was picking fruit one day.

This little doll has some greenery that will probably grace the soup pot tonight. Kids that have only ever lived hand-to-mouth... In a much more literal sense than Americans do.

I walk past this beautiful flowering bush that is situated right across from... well... the gate. I guess its true confession time.
I live in a gated community.

You can see the guard house on the right here, and the really nice condos on the left. Where houses like this and cars like this also live.

And honestly, although my standard of living is much different from some of my neighbors', I feel so rich.

Because I even within our gates, I walk past other neighbors. These are houses, and people live in them.

Some of my neighbors are not even human. One day I took my camera around the neighborhood to see the sights.

This fellow lives just two blocks from me. I encountered him one morning on a run.

And even within the walls of my community, there is the banana grove, and that random dirt road that wanders off mysteriously. Of course, I followed it. There at the end stood a little tin shack. Home for somebody.












The planks that are a bridge stretch over the puddle, and the typical 'slippers' sit outside waiting to take their owner for a walk. Right down the road is this cute little goat. I may buy him in chunks one day at the market.

And then, on the other edge of the community, there is the wall. Topped with barbed wire, it keeps the rich in, and the poor out. Yet here is the inequality and injustice, displayed for all to see.

Life from the other side of the fence.

When I climb my water tank in the back yard, I can see it all. I can see over the walls into a different way of life. And what floors me every time is that I live in a good neighborhood. The people whose lives I can peek into, many aren't even poor by Filipino standards.

But I'm glad to have them all so close. It is good to see the poverty and pain. To daily be reminded of how blessed I am. To reevaluate priorities with a bigger picture in mind. These things that are so important to us... earthly possessions... they have no eternal value. It is such a good reminder that my treasure lies elsewhere. A good chance to reflect, and make sure it stays that way.

Mommy Brain and God

I realized today, at a random moment in time, that I've been acting a lot like a busy mom of late. It's not that I have so many children to take care of, or that I have been overly domestic, it's because I did that thing that busy moms do.

Only I did it to God.

I looked out the window this morning, when I woke up, and saw the neighbors, harvesting a rice patty by hand. As I climbed down the creaky bunk-bed ladder and shuffled into the kitchen, I set goals in my head for all the things I would do today. I further stewed over my grandiose plans as I stirred my 3-in-1 and scrambled some eggs. Today would be a productive day.

And it was.

But at some point, between the paper I wrote and fetching myself some lunch, I walked through a doorway and realized that I was loosing track of the point. Just like the busy mom whose day is so filled with laundry, dishes, meals, and chauffeuring that she doesn't actually spend time with her kids, I have been so busy serving God, that I forgot to know Him. Like the mom who cannot find her child in the grocery store, I sometimes find myself on the mission field, still looking for God.

It's possible, you know.

But it's pointless. Yeah, sure, I'm living on the other side of the world, volunteering my finances, skills, and my life for God's kingdom, but sometimes a lot of times I actually am losing track of Him. It's not that I'm neglecting scripture reading or prayer, but that I'm so busy pursuing His work, that I forget to pursue God. Not just going through the motions, but knowing Him.

It's like mommy brain for Christians.

I'm going to need a lot of wisdom, actually. Wisdom to avoid repeating this mistake. Frankly, I don't know how to avoid this pitfall. I don't know how to keep my focus corrected. The service aspect is so tangeable. And seeking God? Not as much. But although I don't know how, I'm determined to find out.

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Matthew 7:7-8

I Don't Know Why...

For some reason, I find it difficult to write about the things in life that impact me the most. Maybe that is why you hear about culture and food, activities and new sights. Maybe that is also why you DON'T hear much about birth and people groups, malnourished children and some of the things that are going on in my heart.

Maybe that's why the recent silence.

I'm sorry.
I know I've promised so many of you that I would keep up with you through this blog. Yet my heart doesn't always have words.

Maybe that is why I'm sharing pictures of starfish and snorkeling instead of the faces that call out to me every day. I cannot always find words, even to tell God what is in this full heart.

It is overwhelming to look out over the mountains that surround me, and to think of the hundreds of villages nestled in their rocky embrace. To think of all the work to do, and all the souls that have not heard. Or to walk through the city, passing house after house, alley after alley, and realizing how many people live right under my nose every day.

Sometimes I see it in their eyes.

They look at me, and its as if their eyes are asking me... won't you tell me? Are you the one who will show me light and life?....And I don't know the balance. I don't know how to spread my life around between personal time with God, learning, volunteering at the clinic, and time reaching out to my co-workers, the people we minister to, and our neighbors.

So I'm sorry for the silence.

Will you please pray with me? Pray that God will give this heart wisdom and words to speak. Pray that I will be a wise steward of my time and energy. Pray that I will know how to act on the compassion welling up within me.

I know He will.

There are Times....

There are times I look out the back window, and see a palm tree, and I cannot believe that is normal.
              When I realize that looking for snakes while walking down my road is a new
               normal.
              When the person driving me home pulls the car over to pick up a coconut on the
               road.... Breakfast, clearly. But that's normal.
              When picking exotic and beautiful tropical flowers on the walk to clinic is just
               another day.

There are times when I climb into a jeepney with 18 Filipinos and smile at the little girl across from me because I'm the only white person.
               And when I watch that dapper fellow help the sleepy 5 year old off the jeepney
               and swoon  just a little.
               When I walk into the mall and see the elderly man being helped along by his
                loving daughter... also normal.
               When I stare at that white person, and wonder what on earth they're doing
                here... until I remember, I'm white too.

There are times I think I am literally boiling in my own sweat.
                The times when one fan blowing on me is not enough.
                Times when I consider the shade of a telephone pole a welcome relief.
                When I dry off from a shower, but I'm still wet... with sweat.
                Times when I wake up prematurely, because the sweat dripping down me tickles.

There are times when I love long walks on sunny but breezy days, and I have little to carry.
                And when my shoulders hurt from carrying my 30lb backpack for my 23 minute
                walk each way to the clinic... 2-4 times a day.
                When a motor bike or bicycle sound like they would be the greatest invention of
                all history.
                When my gigantic sun hat is the only thing that makes the walk bearable.
                 And when I feel very Filipino with my sweat rag in hand.

There are times I love the hustle and bustle of people and life all around me.
                 And times I want to hear only silence for a moment.
                 When the next horn that beeps at me, or the next guy who yells will push me
                  past my limit.
                 When I can't understand everything being said to me.... even when its in
                  'English'.
                 Times I wish language wasn't so isolating.

There are times I really NEED to create something.

So I do....

On Questions...

I have a lot of questions. A lot of things about this life, that I really don't understand.
"Why God?" I sometimes ask.

It burns in me to know why He allows some of the things He does. Why humans who are living very sinful lives, and hurting others, live on with no immediate judgement. Yet Christ-followers, who are doing so much for others, are hit with one trouble after another. Why?

I don't understand why there are very hard working people, who barely make it meal to meal, while there are lazy rich people. Why?
 

Why are there stories like this one, from one of my co-workers. Lives ended before they began, and grief left in their little wakes. Why?

Why are there so many Christians who say they believe in eternal judgement for sin, yet they take no action to warn others. Why? 

Why must I see so many hurting people, and touch so many lives when I can do so little? Must I feel this pain with every beat of my own heart? Why?

Why do I have unfulfilled dreams, and desires for things I cannot have right now? Why?

Why have You allowed me at times, to hold a dream in my hand, to turn it over and evaluate it, asking for direction... hoping.... And then You asked me to give it back to You? Why did You let me see it, and desire it in the first place? Why?

But sometimes.... I don't want to understand.

Sometimes I only want to understand the parts of God that fit in my brain.

Sometimes I don't know if could make it, if I really understood. These mortal brains cannot comprehend the eternal justice and mercy of an immortal, omniscient, omnipotent God. I think it would break me.

Sometimes I want to just continue as I am... In a comfortable place, and not to really seek to know God.
Because I don't always want to pay the cost.

I don't always want to feel the growing pains. And sometimes, I want God to be who I think He should be. I really don't want Him to step outside my box. But He usually does.

Sometimes, learning to let go of my understanding of God, and expand my view, requires great pain and sacrifice. I've been feeling some of that. Lately, thought, I feel as though one of the ways God is expanding my understanding of who He is, is through great blessing. I find myself continually unable to grasp His goodness to me. For this I rejoice.

I look at His unmatched goodness to me. These little gifts and joys He's put in my life.

And again I find myself asking... Why?

On the Things I Wouldn't Trade...

So a few weeks back I wrote a post on things I missed. Now, here is more of what I love about my new home.

I think it is really fun to cross the road. Although at home this activity was not particularly stimulating, I have encountered entirely new methods since living here. The goal is to not get run over. It is normal, however, to have your life flash before your eyes multiple times while crossing a four lane road. The trick is to take it in parts. You will never find an opening large enough to make it all the way across in one shot, but if you take it one lane at a time, you're good as gold. Look both ways? I think not. You look the one direction until you get across the lanes coming from that direction, then you start looking the other way. One step at a time... literally.

I love shopping in the open market. I love that you can bargain for all your food, and that you know the people you buy from. I love that things are only available when they're available, and you have to plan meal substitutions on the fly. And most of all, I love being a part of these people's lives as I talk to their children and make faces at their babies. I love that I work at a place that has actually helped many of their babies come into the world.



I really love the food. Whenever I have the choice, when Mcdonalds or KFC is an option, I find  myself instead, searching out the little Filipino  food stands and eating rice, pork on a stick, or squid. I find myself asking where the locals eat, and enjoying the adventure of not knowing exactly what I'm eating. The flavor is wonderful! I actually crave rice if I haven't eaten it in a day or two.





Just look at these options, will you?! Fried eggplant, stewed chicken livers, intestine,curry, egg drop soup, seafood.... So much goodness in one place!









I like to ride Jeepneys.What is a Jeepney? Well, its only about the most common form of transportation around. For 8 pesos, or roughly 20 cents, you can ride along as far as you wish. The neat thing about Jeepneys is that they will stop and pick you up anywhere along their route. Here, it is very normal for people to stop in the middle of the road,  make a turn across a couple lanes of traffic, or just drive across an intersection without waiting for a break in the cross traffic. So, you flag one down, hop on, and hold on for dear life! One of the perks is that you get to meet cute kids like these.

Another, is that you get very close to the culture. These vehicles are roughly the size and shape of a mini-van, many are smaller. Average capacity ranges from 17-25 persons. The benches run the long way, with a single aisle up the middle, and a handle overhead. You must aim for the open spot on the bench and wiggle your hips in... full body contact with the people on either side of you. It is customary for people to scoot when the Jeepney pulls over for a new passenger. However, for some reason that is not extremely logical to me, they always scoot closer to the back of the Jeepney.
Practically, what this means is that instead of just hopping in and scooting onto the bench at the end, you and all your baggage must crawl across every set of knees, all the way to the front of the bench where the open spot is! If you are the first one off, you repeat the acrobatics upon disembarkation. An additional bonus of being tall, is that you often sit knee to knee... or beyond... with the person across from you. It truly is a full contact scenario. It's really great though, because anywhere you decide you want to stop, you just knock on the top of the vehicle, or call out, "Diri lang." (just here) and they pull over for you! I'm convinced that we need Jeepneys in the States.

 I love the people I work with. We have adventures such as the midnight changing of a lightbulb...


And my supervisor is so very skilled... I have so much to learn!
I love to help little people into the world. I love that every shift I see precious new life. I see families being born, daddies crying, mommies smiling, and babies breathing their first breaths. This is above and beyond what I could've ever asked for, and I LOVE MY LIFE!!!