More Sisters....

So after the trip to the waterfalls, we made a motorized tour of the island. We stopped at the home of our drivers where we were served fresh coconut. So fresh was this coconut that a long, bamboo spire with a knife on the end was employed to relieve the tree of said fruit before our very eyes.












 Machetes were wielded to facilitate the disembowelment of the coconut, and they were laid on the table before us.













 Early next morning, we took a small fishing boat out for a cruise. We snorkeled, saw giant clams over 1.3 meters in length, and each got a nice bit of sunburn to show for it.

 On the way back to our resort the heavens showed their hospitality by opening the windows, as it were, and drenching us.(hence my sisters' malongs).








 Following our days in paradise, I introduced my sisters to the peach-mango pie at Jollibee....













 Roadside fruit stands......










And the open market which was described as being simultaneously "The most fascinating and disgusting thing I have ever seen".









I have spared the pictures of freshly butchered meat, the smell of dried fish, and the sounds of pigs being led to slaughter.

 I introduced them to my Indian friend, Tareen.











These identical twins showed up at the primary health care outreach we did.












While I listened to hearts and lungs and checked rashes and fevers, my sisters made their own set of friends.















They made their way into a lot of little hearts.











And left with a large number of admirers.

 

 We tasted the goodness of Davao's best Frappe,















And learned the joys of public transportation. To top it all off, we went to the nearby mall for the fountain show. These fountains are choreographed to music, as are the colorful lights that accompany their dance. What a finale to a whirlwind, wonderful visit from two of the most precious friends a girl could ever have.

About the Sister(s)...

So I told you my sister was coming to see me. Imagine, then, my surprise when not one but TWO sisters showed up at the airport! The dear, weary travelers caught me completely off-guard and I must admit, I shed a few tears in my happiness.






A newly-acquired friend from the airport took us out for breakfast. Nothing says 'Welcome to Davao' quite like porriage with pig intestines for breakfast!







The next few days were filled with babies as my sisters shadowed me on birth-room shifts. I have never known anything quite like the first cry of a newborn baby to steal hearts and bring tears to one's eyes. I believe it was love at first sight.










The shifts were full and busy, which made getting over jet-lag a bit of a challenge. Post-partum hemorrhage and jet lag apparently don't mix well.







They were naturals at newborn care, and got to hold not a few infants when other hands were too full.








After our busy days of work, we were off to paradise. We spent four nights in this  little hut, the ocean creeping right up to the wall in front of us each night.














Oh, good evening, Mt. Apo. The harbor lights winked at us from across the bay.










Every morning, delicious fresh fruits and coffee as we watched the fishermen row home after a long night's work.








Sister moments.......











And starfish......












Sunsets......















and some of the most beautiful and serene moments you could possibly imagine.









Each day we hopped motorcycles and toured the little villages nearby. We enjoyed local foods, scenery, and the admiring gazes of hundreds of people.

I introduced them to this little piece of heaven known as Haggimit Falls. It is a series of natural waterfalls with pools, natural slides, and natural diving boards.








There, too, we had many gazing admirers. Peachy was far bolder than I, and took many jumps off of these perilous heights. I managed one, only after many false alarms, and much effort to turn off the rational part of my brain that didn't think striking my head on a rock was a good way to die.












Here's an example of Peachy's unparalleled bravery. There is more to this story, but for now, I will desist from my attack of photos. To be continued.....

Now what?

I go to seek a great perhaps....

I really like that quote, because it is just what every missionary does. It is not the perhaps of God's sending, or of his ability to remain faithful to those He's sent, but the perhaps of just what, exactly, may come of that single act of obedience. GO.

Perhaps it will result in the saving of many souls, and perhaps it will primarily contribute to the saving of our own. Instead of the images of revivals and church planting that frequented my daydreams, I find myself pitifully pleading God for His continued grace and sustenance. I find a new relevance in the verse that talks about 'working out my salvation with fear and trembling". And I increasingly realize the degree of grace necessary to not only sustain mission workers, but also to produce fruit through them.


Perhaps it will be a clearly marked path, and perhaps we will feel as though we are following God with a blindfold on. "Marco"... "Polo"... "Marco" .... "Polo".... Wait, how did God end up way over there? I was so sure I was following Him when I headed in this direction. But perhaps, if God had made that path clear to me from the beginning, I would've dismissed it. Maybe I would have shrunk away in fear, or maybe I would confidently have stepped out, unaware of my human frailty. So I see His plan is perfect, even when our resultant paths look a little jagged.

These are not my feet

And then there are the times. The times we just have no clue which way our path will next veer. When we feel a bit lost, and excited, and afraid, and eager. It is hide and seek, but we've yet to find. Those crazy moments when we realize that all we have been working toward for weeks, months, or years has been accomplished and we do not yet know our next goal. That panic-y feel when we must recreate our normal.

I find myself in this position over the next few months. I'm seeking a great perhaps. As this season of my life begins to wind down, my heart is dreaming, my feelers are out, and I ask myself... "Now what?" It may be a bit premature, but my heart is seeking a new dream to chase. 5 months from now I will get onto an airplane back to the US, back to a great perhaps. I'm I am asking for the nations, but I'm not sure which one yet.

I am praying for direction. These feet want to go, these hands want to serve, and this heart wants to love. Perhaps God will act quickly in cultivating a new dream in my soul, or perhaps He will lead me into another period of waiting. Either way, I'm determined to be content. Now what? Now I am determined, by the grace of God, to live well no matter what the path before me may be.

On Spiritual Suicide....

"I'm beginning to wonder if its not a bit like committing spiritual suicide to go off on the mission field alone."

His words rang in my ears with a truth I might not have agreed with even a year ago. We met up in December, he taking a bit of a break from his overseas work, and I having a little more time on my hands due to winter break. We were discussing life away from the spiritual infrastructure we have thus far known and enjoyed. Friends, family, and church who normally sharpen us, hold us accountable, and lift us up are no longer near at hand. Suddenly, we are almost entirely responsible for our own spiritual well-being. The results shocked us.

It is truly amazing how much the choices and actions I have thus far made in my life are influenced by the people around me. Nothing like leaving everyone and everything you've ever known, culture shock, and a high intensity overseas lifestyle to bring you face to face with who you are.Whatever came with you is your 'junk'. I must admit, I shocked myself with some of the choices I made. I became unpleasantly aware of my deepest weaknesses.

There is a lot that can be excused under the label of 'cultural adjustment'. In my down time, I turned to movies, which had formerly been a rare treat in my life. Then in a classic move of stupidity, when movies failed to bring the entertainment and cultural reprieve I sought, I added more of the same. It took quite a while for me to come around and realize that what this heart was really yearning for was more of God.

Why? Why does a girl who's heart is turned toward God move overseas to do His work, and realize herself such a miserable failure? Why, when I should be at my spiritual highest, do I find that there are still the same old struggles of setting aside quality time, rather than plowing through 'devos'? What is the secret to the secret place?

Now please don't read the above and think I've given up. There could be no falser statement. But I am honestly working through the reality of my own humanity and my desperate need of grace. I'm learning to identify and find ways of meeting my own spiritual needs. I'm leaning on God to shape me into who I ought to become. It seems that the expectations I and others had of me are not completely right or helpful.

So what is the right way to do this? How does one survive spiritually when removing themselves from much of their spiritual support, and placing themselves on the front lines? In this place I have some friends and a church, but will the next place I go have even that? When we clearly know that 'it is not good for man to be alone', why do we send them to places where they are spiritually, culturally, and emotionally alone?


Is it spiritual suicide to send even the most passionate people to the mission field?

In the Month of February...

A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps.... Proverbs 16:9 Well hello there, friend of mine!Update on Liiiiiifffeeee (which, as you may be able to discern, excites me.) Lord willing, my February looks full. For the first few days I will be scrambling through some academic material and extra shift work in order to free up the remainder of the month. Besides that, I am learning about Primary Health Care and Counseling. Scheduled shift work added in, I could keep myself plenty busy. Yet there is something happening that excites my little heart far more. My sister is coming to visit! Jonathan, for my brother For two lovely weeks I will give her a taste of all that my life contains over here on this distant isle. We will laugh and play and catch up on everything, and no doubt there will be tears at our parting. You, dear readers, will likely be regaled with both written and a pictorial documentation of this exciting event. And so, in this short month of February, I shall likely be quite the busy bee. Alas, were it only for the 6 classes, full work schedule, and visit from a foreign land, the danger of boredom might loom over me like an impending rain shower. Fear not idleness, my friends. The second half of my February promises to keep me occupied as well. Over this summer, many of you listened to my excitement over the possibility of reaching out to a neighboring country. Well, the time has come. On February 20, I leave for two weeks on a Lake in Cambodia. Go ahead and click on that, its a slideshow created by a few who went this fall. It should give enough details for now. Though the itinerary for this trip is still under construction, I anticipate a time of both giving and receiving as I will be working alongside an established ministry. There will be much to learn from those who are already on the front lines, already plowing the un-plowed soil of hearts who have never heard. Please, dear ones, keep this in your prayers. Girls who have already been bring back reports of immense spiritual growth and challenge, as well as fruitful ministry. Words cannot express my excitement, and my heart can scarce contain it. 8 weeks old now So as I fly through my busy February, please keep me in your prayers as I continue to remember you in mine. Life doesn't slow down, I'm just learning to hold onto my hat. The light at the end of the tunnel is visible. In 3.5 months, the academic portion of my work here will be complete. About 3 months after that, my time here will come to a close. Beyond that, I have little visibility a present. This heart of mine prefers a bit of planning, but oh! The character that can be built in the times of waiting and praying. Bless you, and join me in blessing our Father. With love, Missowissa

How Do I.....

Hi, I'm 27, and I'm not fully grown. Nope, I don't have lots of physical growing to do, I have a list of things I'd like to learn. Wisdom doesn't grow on trees, but it does grow in the hearts of those who submit to and fear God. So I'll just make this an open discussion.

How do I go about becoming fully consecrated to God?

Yeah, pray more, read more, spend time with God.... but at what point does full consecration occur? I mean, we still really live in this world, and some of our thoughts and actions will necessarily facilitate basic survival. We are also called to reach the lost, which obviously necessitates a lot of time spent pursuing them. Also, God created many things for us to 'richly enjoy'. He created smiles and laughter and recreation. He designed our bodies to need rest. My mind doesn't have a good grasp on an accurate balance for this conundrum.

How do I change the world?

Some of you will automatically say that changing the world is a human-centered goal. But I'm pretty sure Jesus did it, and I'm supposed to be like Him. Where to start? What to do? I see plenty of needs, plenty of opportunities, and I have some ability to respond. But what is right? Is there really one specific set of actions that is designated exactly for me, or should I look for need and go work where I see God working? I'm a bit afraid to take hasty action, but I may be more afraid of doing nothing at all for fear of doing the wrong thing. Again and again Jesus 'was moved with compassion' and then acted. That is the main thing we're told of His prompting. Compassion alone offers a pretty broad spectrum of ministry opportunities. How does vision become focused?

How do I go about making and keeping good priorities?

To put others first seems to be a good priority until the moment you realize that in so doing, you've reduced your devotion time to a chore. On some level, serving is LIVING the heart of Jesus and I have found it to be a very real way of worshiping God and understanding His grace toward me. Yet at some indistinguishable junction I seem to cross this invisible line between sacred worship/sacrifice and distracting busyness. Inevitably, the less of Him you have, the less you have to share.

How do I feel the weight of compassion without being crushed to pieces by the sorrow all around me?

I long to empathize with people and to help bear their pain. The ugly side of pain is that each of us has about as much as we can handle. To take on that of another can be crushing. Also, there is no use in a person who is completely immobilized by the crushing weight of sorrow. How old will I be before I finally learn the balance between feeling enough and feeling too much? How much grace is required to lift someone up and take part of their burden simultaneously? At what point have you done all you can, and when is it necessary to become refreshed in your own heart? Can anyone actually give me practical advice on what it means to 'Cast my care upon the Lord"? 

How do I release others from expectations?

I would love to believe that I am strong and wise and not one bit petty. The ugly truth, however, is that I still have some very immature emotions and expectations of those in my life. Somehow, even from the other side of the world, I still manage to feel entitled to a certain level of friendship. I feel hurt over things that are unintentional, and I have unrealistic expectations of friends and family. How do I stay close to people, offer them all of who I am, and still release them from expectations? How do I adjust to a long distance relationship with every person who has been any significant part of my life?

How do I balance faith and action?

Why are some types of action considered compatible with faith, and others are viewed as its antithesis? Why is it alright to work as a means of providing for yourself, but not to make needs known when paying work is not an option? Why is the admission of unfulfilled desires akin to a statement of faithlessness? Where is the balance between relying on God for the future and proper stewardship of all He's given us? Is it possible that this balance is delicate, situational, and personal? Could God really be pleased by different combinations from different people at different times?

As you can see, I have a lot of growing up to do. I lack answers to most of my questions, and I question the answers I do have. At times I feel closer to God now that I don't know completely what I believe than I ever did when I thought I had it figured out. Possibly this is just where He wants me.... depending.

On Retrieving Peanuts....

We needed peanuts the other day. A group of mothers-to-be was having a special class at our clinic, and part of the snack was to be peanuts. Looking through the list of ladies I was hosting the class with, I realized that one of the married students was on the list.... or so I thought. She owns a car, so the task of going someplace to purchase said peanuts was presumably a simpler feat for her than for any of the rest of the group. Assuming that she would also have peanuts on the brain, I sent her a text.

Hey, do you by any chance have any thoughts about retrieving peanuts?

This fair lady, (who was actually not in the same group as me) surmising I was referring to our upcoming shift together, responded:

Hey Melissa, I am still in the catching rotation, if that's what you mean.

Much laughter after we came to a mutual understanding of our respective interpretations of the texts. We now have a new euphemism for catching babies.... retrieving peanuts. Doesn't that just put things nicely?

 I shall proceed to assail you with pictures of food and babies, both of which seem uniquely suited to putting smiles on the faces of even the most sober of human beings. To the right of your screen you should notice a plate of Indian food, a side of Naan, and a plate of burning-incense-gone-wrong. It was an exciting dinner, the fire in our mouths closely coordinating with that of our centerpiece. The climax happened to be when the incense plate cracked, and the fire needed to be dramatically swept from the table and relocated outside in the drizzle.
 
Now, you may look at the picture on the left and ask yourself, "Where did Melissa get that fabulous blue, sparkly headband?" If that is the question you find yourself asking, I'll just take this moment to give a shout out to the Privett family for blessing me with a little care package. It arrived two days ago, and delighted this heart of mine.
 
This child is named Jags Christ. I do not find that I particularly endorse the name, but as a midwife, I do not always have a say in such matters. He is my first baby of the new year, born on the anniversary of my own sister's birth. Although his arrival does thrill me, the circumstances do not. His father has turned out to be a depressed, drug addicted, wife beater. He and the mother are no longer together. Little Jags has an older brother and sister to help take care of him.

While Jags was on his way out, his mother and I really bonded. She was so broken, not surprisingly, and needed a bit of extra tender love during her labor. After the birth, she asked me why I was kind to her. I was able to plant a tiny seed about the kindness of God, and how it reflects in His people. Please, dear ones, pray that her heart will be open to further cultivation of the love of her heavenly Father in the weeks to come.

 To the left of your screen you should notice some nearly indescribable cuteness. This fellow was not my catch, although I did play a huge role in his birth. I also played a role in his naming. Jack Derek shall forever be his handle. A very sweet little tyke, he cooperated extraordinarily well for his photo shoot.




Finally, a bit of laughter to wrap up this post. This child and I were mutually enamored with one another. Mother found herself amused as we spent a few moments in shared laughter. It appears that she is very weird and laughs at strange things, much like her midwife. The little doll was uberly precious, and I have not the slightest doubt that she is already developing a nerdy, off-beat sense of humor and general good-natured perspective on the world.

Alright folks. All for now! Over and out.