Update from Palawan and Pray requests:
Today is my last day in the lowland where the internet, running water, and electricity are available. But before I hike back into the mountains I wanted to leave a little update about what things are happening right now in Palawan.
1) School: We are nearing the end of our second quarter at our little mission school in the mountains. It's be nothing short of an adventure so far. We recently have been forced to cancel two of our highschool classes as one of our missionaries here ended her time with us. We still are teaching Bible, Math, Philipino (Tagalog), English, typing and teacher training to our 6 highschool students. It is very sad though that they no longer have a science or history class which were taught by Kiana. We hope to begin them again when Kent and Leonda (our career missionaries return at the end of March) but even that will be a hard untaking as they have many other responsibilties here at the mission. Therefore, I asked that you'll join us in prayer for more teachers. There have been some potiential proscepts that have even visited the mountains but nobody has been found to fill the position. Pray for more teachers.
2) Our Students: Half way through the year can become a bit of a low point for our students and in the past this is when we have some decided to leave school. Recently after a serious situation involving two girls being demonicly harassed a close friend of theirs and a very promising young man named Nitu decided to quit school. We praise God that just recently he has returned to church but we still prayer that he will desire to come back to school. Pray for our students.
3) Transition: Like I mentioned above the project here is going through a bit of a transition. During the past 5 months our career missionaries have been on furlough in the states and we praise the Lord that the things that were holding them back from returning earlier are now moved out of the way and they are coming back. For the current SM's it comes as a relief to have our leaders back with us. It's been an amzing adventure but we are ready to return some of the bigger responsibilties back into their more experienced hands. Also, we recently had to say goodbye to our dear friend Kiana whose service term here in Palawan has come to an end. We all looked up to her and admired her devotion to the people here. She is surely missed but we are confindent that God is leading her 'in the paths of righteousness for His name sake' as she opens a new chapter of her life starting her career as a teacher back in the States. She leaves big whole in our team here 'not physically.' So I just ask that for your prayers as we make some adjustments over the following weeks.
4) Lowland team and supporting ministries: During the past few months their has been controversy and many hurt feelings as there has been a time of unrest for the PAMAS team. They are a branch of GMI that works hand in hand with the AFM team here. I with hold many details because I don't feel it's my place to share them. Recently, there leader suffered a three gun shot wounds two to the face and one in chest at his home in Manila. By a miracle of God, Dewayne Harrison is alive and recovering and is still in need of prayers. Satan has given not rest to the rest of their team and ours down here in Brookes Point. Please pray also for Danny Henson, his wife and two daughters as they plan for the soon future.
5) We need the latter rain. Revelation 18 describes a scene of whole world being lightened with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, prophesy tell us during this time just before the second coming there will be a revival of true godliness among God's remnant people as has never before been witnessed just before the time of trouble and the triumphant return of Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. I pray that you personally ask God to pour upon you the early rain, (Joel 2 18-32) representing a daily portion of His Holy Spirit that will begin to change our hearts and lives to be more like the perfect example our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I ask that you join us as we do the same each day here in Kamantian. Jesus is coming soon!!! and, " being confident is this very things, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." Phil 1:6 and "He who calls you is faithful and who will also do it."
He will prepare us for that time, if we commit our lives to Him today and every day.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
As Time Flys by I Stop to Remember
Dear reader,
Whether you be close friend, distant relative, and random blogger. I pray the following will be a true blessing to you on your journey of life's path to what lies just beyond. I've titled this post time flys because coming to a 6 months milestone and turning around to watch it as it passes by I've been able to recount some of the experiences I've had so far living on the frontier of gosple work. Retracing memories of victory in appearent defeat, steadfast standing on shaking groud, and through it all learning more about trust and faith than I ever thought possible. There have been nights of sleep surrendered and long days of work done by strength not coming from within. There were times spent of the mountains of thanksgiving as my cups was appearently overflowing with blessings and also times of darkness where my cup seemed to be all but dry. Turning back I don't have to look to far down the road to spot a story worth passing on.
As of late things have been fairly quite and restful for the missionaries here, not much to write home about. We've been able to settle into our daily routine. For the teachers that meant having time to catch up grading and planning a little ahead in lesson plans. For the nurse and the clinic it means organizing, charting, prepacking assorted medicines, and treating the cuts and bruises and the occsaional malaria patient. But as it sometimes happens relaxation can be short and sweet.
It was Sabbath morning all was quiet and peaceful as the church members gathered at the church for singing and prayer before Sabbath School. Smiles could be seen all around and warm greetings were heard by all, it had all the promises of a happy and restful Sabbath worship service. The numbers grew as worshipper continued to come in. After our time of prayer and thanksgiving we prepared to break off into individual Sabbath School groups. Thats when things started to get stirred up.
Outside of the school house/ church doors waited a small group of people. After a little investigation we were able to find out the reason they had come. One woman was a frequenter of the clinic. She is know on a first name bases but not for all positive reasons. Just recently, she has been stringing together a chain of twisted story that have left our clinic staff feeling as if she has manipulated their vonerablity. The situation had started when she started asking for extra milk for her baby to supplement her breast feeding but later we found out that she had been lying to us and had been giving it away to a friend. Now I'm not saying the clinic here is short on milk or not willing to give it away to all that need it but we make it a priority to see and assess each patient that we can make sure that a case of simple malnurishment isn't worms or any other serious disease. But with that being said the nurses here had been made uneasy by the breach of trust and having to meet this same situation again quickly removed the atmosphere of peace.
The other part of the group that had gather was a father and son of a sick mother who was still at home. Since the clinic here is one of the only place to receive free medical care for the native people we have patient come from far and wide. This family lives a 3 hour hike away from the clinic. They had come that morning asking to receive medicine for the sick mother. The nurses weren't able to gather enough information about her symptoms to be for sure about her illness. It was decided that she would need to be carried to the clinic. So at the end of church some of the young men went with them to bring back their mother, causing us to have to cancel the Bible studies being given in an area newly receptive to the gosple. The boys ended up not being able to carry her in that afternoon and had to return home that night and go back the next morning. After coming back together we recognized that Satan had been at hard work that morning to try and stop the gosple for going forward in those Bible studies and it was discouraging to see that he had won the battle but we had proof that he didn't win the war.
Whether you be close friend, distant relative, and random blogger. I pray the following will be a true blessing to you on your journey of life's path to what lies just beyond. I've titled this post time flys because coming to a 6 months milestone and turning around to watch it as it passes by I've been able to recount some of the experiences I've had so far living on the frontier of gosple work. Retracing memories of victory in appearent defeat, steadfast standing on shaking groud, and through it all learning more about trust and faith than I ever thought possible. There have been nights of sleep surrendered and long days of work done by strength not coming from within. There were times spent of the mountains of thanksgiving as my cups was appearently overflowing with blessings and also times of darkness where my cup seemed to be all but dry. Turning back I don't have to look to far down the road to spot a story worth passing on.
As of late things have been fairly quite and restful for the missionaries here, not much to write home about. We've been able to settle into our daily routine. For the teachers that meant having time to catch up grading and planning a little ahead in lesson plans. For the nurse and the clinic it means organizing, charting, prepacking assorted medicines, and treating the cuts and bruises and the occsaional malaria patient. But as it sometimes happens relaxation can be short and sweet.
It was Sabbath morning all was quiet and peaceful as the church members gathered at the church for singing and prayer before Sabbath School. Smiles could be seen all around and warm greetings were heard by all, it had all the promises of a happy and restful Sabbath worship service. The numbers grew as worshipper continued to come in. After our time of prayer and thanksgiving we prepared to break off into individual Sabbath School groups. Thats when things started to get stirred up.
Outside of the school house/ church doors waited a small group of people. After a little investigation we were able to find out the reason they had come. One woman was a frequenter of the clinic. She is know on a first name bases but not for all positive reasons. Just recently, she has been stringing together a chain of twisted story that have left our clinic staff feeling as if she has manipulated their vonerablity. The situation had started when she started asking for extra milk for her baby to supplement her breast feeding but later we found out that she had been lying to us and had been giving it away to a friend. Now I'm not saying the clinic here is short on milk or not willing to give it away to all that need it but we make it a priority to see and assess each patient that we can make sure that a case of simple malnurishment isn't worms or any other serious disease. But with that being said the nurses here had been made uneasy by the breach of trust and having to meet this same situation again quickly removed the atmosphere of peace.
The other part of the group that had gather was a father and son of a sick mother who was still at home. Since the clinic here is one of the only place to receive free medical care for the native people we have patient come from far and wide. This family lives a 3 hour hike away from the clinic. They had come that morning asking to receive medicine for the sick mother. The nurses weren't able to gather enough information about her symptoms to be for sure about her illness. It was decided that she would need to be carried to the clinic. So at the end of church some of the young men went with them to bring back their mother, causing us to have to cancel the Bible studies being given in an area newly receptive to the gosple. The boys ended up not being able to carry her in that afternoon and had to return home that night and go back the next morning. After coming back together we recognized that Satan had been at hard work that morning to try and stop the gosple for going forward in those Bible studies and it was discouraging to see that he had won the battle but we had proof that he didn't win the war.
Earlier during the youth Sabbath school that morning three of our girls came under spiritual attacks similar to one's we seen in the past with our young people here. They weren't as serious as what we have seen before when they needed to be protected from hurting themselves but this morning two of them, for short periods of time, would have acute muscle spasms. Uncontrollably and incoherently they would clinch their fists so strongly that it was nearly impossible to pull their fingers apart. But once their hand was reopened they would be coherent again. This has happened in the passed to the same girls. And as we did in the past and as we do always in these situations we prayed. The youth prayed during their Sabbath school and the missionaries gather after church for a special season of prayer primarily for the girls and also for direction as to what we should do for the planned outreach for that afternoon. One of the girls who had been demonically harassed has been mentured to give Bible studies, in particular two each Sabbath afternoon. Sadly, after the long morning of fighting she seemed to exhausted and weary to go on as planned. But we felt that we needed to ask her and also encourage her to still give the Bible study, the first of which was with a few of her own peers near the church. With a tired face she agreed. We shared with her the promise that whenever we work for God, He sends extra angels along side us to strengthen us and they even give us the word to speak.
I wasn't able to go to the Bible study but I can tell what was relayed back to me. The girls still worn down and tried began by singing a few songs. While the were singing, familiar smiles returned to their faces. They opened with prayer and the tone in her voice seemed to have changed from before. The person who had sat down at the beginning of Bible study seemed to be a different person from the one now giving the Bible study. Her saddness and exhaustion had been replaced with joy and energy. She gave a wonderful Bible study and closed with the lesson that no matter how hard the trying times are, we should never stop praying to God.
I wasn't able to go to the Bible study but I can tell what was relayed back to me. The girls still worn down and tried began by singing a few songs. While the were singing, familiar smiles returned to their faces. They opened with prayer and the tone in her voice seemed to have changed from before. The person who had sat down at the beginning of Bible study seemed to be a different person from the one now giving the Bible study. Her saddness and exhaustion had been replaced with joy and energy. She gave a wonderful Bible study and closed with the lesson that no matter how hard the trying times are, we should never stop praying to God.
Following this Bible study, they both hiked up to the top of the ridge to visit with another family and give another Bible study. This one was followed with the same lesson as before, never stop praying. It reminded me a favorite Bible verse in 1 Thessalonians 5 starting in verse 16, "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." verse 24. "He who calls you is faithful and who also will do it." And how true His word was for those two girls, He was faithful in their time of need, and He partnered with them and did it.
The God who helped those two young girls is the same God who is making Himself availible to each and everyone of us every moment of our lives. He gave more than we could ever imagined just so that He could be there to help us when we need Him most and there He waits just a prayer away.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Do you get paid do do this?
Recently a group of 3 tourists and their guide came down the
trail that goes passed our school and through our villages here in Kementiyan.
They had stopped for a rest near the clinic. I was curious as to where they
were coming from and more importantly I was concerned about what they were
doing here. So passing by, being the only white person they had seen, they
called me over. After talking for a little while the story I gathered was:
months before they found themselves in need of adventure so they had set to
hike coast to coast, summiting the tallest mountain in Palawan, Kebetangan.
Having hiked 7 days so far they were near the end of their trip and in need of
food. So, I invited them to my house where I cooked rice and gave them the
untouched cans of fruit cocktail I had sitting on my shelf. Tropical Fruit Mix,
untouched because ‘why eat from a can what you can find right outside your door.’
While they were eating we talked some more and I answered a few question about
the mission and what we do here. Then one of them asked me, “Do you get paid
for your work here?” With a smile I replied, “Aside from donation for people
back in America that pay for my food and transportation, not a penny.” They
looked at me like I had a few screws loose, but then returned to eating their
food. We chatted some more then I pointed them in the direction of the trail
heading toward the lowlands.
A few days later, I was talking with Kiana, another teacher
here, telling her about our visitors and all their curious questioning. The
more we talked the more I realized that if being paid with money was the only
reward I received from being a missionary here, it simply wouldn’t be worth it
and I probably would have gave up and quit a long time ago. The things we do
here may appear like work to the American world-view but I guess spending this
small time a missionary has changed that view of mine. I see now why the missionary
Paul said “I count all thing as rubbish.” Yes, of course we need money from our faithful
unselfish donors because that’s how the “busy”ness of our world works. But the
work of the gospel is never limitted by dollar signs; nor can they alone be a
fitting reward for those who are called as His servants. I am starting to
understand that a heavenly eternal reward is worth greater than anything
the riches of this world could offer me in this lifetime. Contrary to the
declining value of the currency that backs our world economy, the work of our
Heavenly Father is backed by a currency redeeming souls everyday “not with
perishable things like silver or gold… but with the precious blood of Christ,
as of a Lamb without blemish and without spot.”
trail that goes passed our school and through our villages here in Kementiyan.
They had stopped for a rest near the clinic. I was curious as to where they
were coming from and more importantly I was concerned about what they were
doing here. So passing by, being the only white person they had seen, they
called me over. After talking for a little while the story I gathered was:
months before they found themselves in need of adventure so they had set to
hike coast to coast, summiting the tallest mountain in Palawan, Kebetangan.
Having hiked 7 days so far they were near the end of their trip and in need of
food. So, I invited them to my house where I cooked rice and gave them the
untouched cans of fruit cocktail I had sitting on my shelf. Tropical Fruit Mix,
untouched because ‘why eat from a can what you can find right outside your door.’
While they were eating we talked some more and I answered a few question about
the mission and what we do here. Then one of them asked me, “Do you get paid
for your work here?” With a smile I replied, “Aside from donation for people
back in America that pay for my food and transportation, not a penny.” They
looked at me like I had a few screws loose, but then returned to eating their
food. We chatted some more then I pointed them in the direction of the trail
heading toward the lowlands.
A few days later, I was talking with Kiana, another teacher
here, telling her about our visitors and all their curious questioning. The
more we talked the more I realized that if being paid with money was the only
reward I received from being a missionary here, it simply wouldn’t be worth it
and I probably would have gave up and quit a long time ago. The things we do
here may appear like work to the American world-view but I guess spending this
small time a missionary has changed that view of mine. I see now why the missionary
Paul said “I count all thing as rubbish.” Yes, of course we need money from our faithful
unselfish donors because that’s how the “busy”ness of our world works. But the
work of the gospel is never limitted by dollar signs; nor can they alone be a
fitting reward for those who are called as His servants. I am starting to
understand that a heavenly eternal reward is worth greater than anything
the riches of this world could offer me in this lifetime. Contrary to the
declining value of the currency that backs our world economy, the work of our
Heavenly Father is backed by a currency redeeming souls everyday “not with
perishable things like silver or gold… but with the precious blood of Christ,
as of a Lamb without blemish and without spot.”
Monday, January 2, 2012
An update from Palawan:
During the time I was able to post a week ago, the baptized members of the church, including 9 my of high school students, went to a two week Bible training school in the lowlands up on by AFM’s Pilipino sister Philippine Frontier Missions. The president of the organization presented wonderful lectures and messages to a our members covering topics such as Spiritual Warfare, approaching people, and Bible study training, all within a cultural context. During church last week we were able to hear the testimonies from attendees about what had happened and what they had learned, but most importantly we’ve heard from many that they rededicated their lives to Christ. Two people in particular that were answers to prayer: Sublitu, a one-time strong, on fire worker for Christ who had backslidden into old gambling habits and become a stranger to church participation. After returning, one of the missionaries went to visit him on Sunday, market and gambling day, he told them that he wanted to stay home, keeping him far away from temptation. Praise God! Secondly Miuget, a rowdy and energetic teenager who was baptized last spring was reluctant to attend after not being in church for the past 2 months. Upon the last day before the meeting began both of these men ask if they could still go. This is certainly an answer too many prayers. Miuget stood up in church and told everyone of how the two weeks affected him for the good. A little bit about Miuget: He is the only teenage Christian boy in my village and in his time of admitted wavering from the straight and narrow, he would avoid me at all cost. Since his return he has come to my house nearly every night to talk and befriend me in any way he can.
God is moving among His people here in Kementiyan.
All the people who went to the Bible training classes are now leading out in a week of prayer. In the mornings, before school this week we’ve decided to delay school for a time prayer. After a short message from one of our church leaders the student have broke off into groups of 2-3 and prayed both for personal revival and for the church as a whole. Our high school students and elementary school teachers are stepping into the leadership roles. They have caught a glimpse of the potential of the gospel in this valley and they are working together to make that vision a reality.
Please join us in prayer as we push forward with the cross of Jesus leading the way.
Next week, we will be having our annual Christmas Program. This event draws attention and people from although out the valley. Regularly, our little village at its busiest on market day might have about 50 people in it, but during this program last year, there were more than 200 people. All of these people, believer and non-believers alike, will watch two plays put on by the students. The first will be the elementary students, portraying the life work of Christ, from birth to resurrection. Second, will be the high school’s play, a culturally contextual modern day Christmas story. This event is a reason for much prayer. The fire that is burning our hearts and in the hearts of our students and teachers, we pray, will spread throughout the hearts of the people who attend our program this year.
Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year
Monday, November 28, 2011
This story was written by one of my fellow student missionaries. enjoy!!!
Early the next morning we all woke up to a large "BOOM!" explosion sound from somewhere. It wasnt a normal jungle sound that we're used to and didnt know what to think. A few minutes later a bunch of people came with an old man who had a bloody shirt wrapped around his left hand. This man is named "Kolaulu" w hich translates literally "Big Head" and he is a real dyed-in-the-wool witchdoctor. He communitactes with spirits and practices magic and witchcraft. People come ot him to perform sacrifices and different ceremonies. He hates the missionaries and never comes down from his small village to the clinic and forbids his family to come too so this was a big occasion for him to come down.
We unwrapped his hand not knowing what we would find. blood dripped down onto the porch from five different lacerations on his fingers. the top two inches of his middle finger was hanging down by a tiny thread of skin and the bone was protruding out. His eyes were bloodshot and crying and he complained of cloudy vision. We asked what had happend and the reply was he had been making a grenade to "hunt pigs" and it had exploded. We put flourescent in his eyes to check for lacerations but didnt see any and then Amy and I irrigated out his eyes with a bottle of Saline while Chris called the head missionary who is in the states right now. The porch was crowded with spectators and even all the school kids stopped class from across the creek and came running down to see his hand. He seemed to enjoy the attention despite the pain. Christ spent the entire day stitching him up with well over a hundred stitches and endless syringes of lidocain to numb him up. He put the meat of the finger top and slid it back over the bone and stitched it on. We'll see if it will live. Amy & I smeared it all over with antibiotic cream and gauze. Remarkabley Kolaulu let us and the other student missionaries and staff pray for his finger to live. All seven of us prayed in a circle on the porch that evening over his finger. It would be great if it did.
At the same time all of this was going on we still had to care for our inpatient who was not getting any better nor was he getting any worse. He was still peeing motor oil and throwing up bile. While chris was with Kolaulu I saw all the other patients who came for medicine. One woman came and laid on the floor of the porch almost at the same time Kolaulu came. Her name is Mirning and she's an older woman who isnt quite all there mentally and is kind of homeless and wanders from house to house hoping people will feed her because her family doesnt really care for her and her husband died a few years ago. We see her a lot for chronic abdominal pain and other vague symptoms (her chart is thick because she's a hypochondriac) She laid on the floor and refused to take any medications we gave her and her story constantly changed every time we asked her what was wrong. We gave up on her after a while and just let her lie there all day since we were so busy with everyone else.
By late afternoon Chris, Amy, & I had a conference about our inpatient. He was still really bad. We decided to send him to the lowland hospital and we managed to find someone to carry him out of the mountains before dark. We're worried he might not live. We prepared our other patient room and had Kolaulu and his family stay overnight in the clinic so we could continue to put him on pain meds and see if his finger lives till morning. If it doesnt we have to cut off the bone and sew a cap over it.
When nighttime came we discovered Mirning STILL lying there on the porch and she had made up her mind that she too was staying with us. We prepared a place for her and her daughter fed her. She still refused medications and splayed around listlessly. We all went to bed exhausted that night.
Morning came and kolaulu's finger was still alive so Amy & I smeared his hand with antibiotic ointment again, rebandaged it and we sent him home on antibiotics and pain meds telling him to come back tomorrow for a checkup.
That night was friday night before sabbath. We had sundown worship and decided that we needed to hold a "cleansing" of the clinic. Since Kolaulu is a witchdoctor and we had seen one of his children playing with a magic doll in the clinic we were sure he might have brought evil spirits in with him when he stayed. He told us that he had heard scratching on the wall of the clinic all night long and thought that people were playing a joke on him. Us missionaries know from past experience and from stories from other countries that "scratching" can be a sign of spirit activity. We also thought it could have been mirning in the next room but werent sure. Mirning and the daughter who stayed with her have also practiced witchcraft in the past so we thought that they too might have allowed evil in.
What we did was each of us student missionaries or staff took a room in the clinic and prayed to God to cleanse ourselves and the clinic from evil and that Satan doesnt have any right to be there because the clinic belongs to God. We prayed for God to undo any magic or curses done against the clinic now or in the past and for God to send angels to guard and protect it. After about ten or fifteen minutes of this we each took a wall on the outside of the clinic and prayed on the outside as well. After this we walked over to My house where I live with two other girls and prayed the same prayers over it because our houses are literally next door. After praying over my house we prayed over Christ & Amy's house. It was a very touching and powerful moment to beg for forgiveness for myself and claim bible promises for God to protect and cleanse his project here. We want our clinic to be seen as a place of hope and healing rather than a place of pain and suffering.
An interesting note. At the same time all of this spiritually charged action was going on--my dad was awoken in the middle of the night with an overwhelmingly strong urge that he needed to pray for me. We wont know until we get to heaven if his prayers prevented something from happening or simply added strength to God's forces but it gives credence to what was going on.
Please send up prayers for us as we work and learn among the Palawano tribes here. Satan is strong in these territories still and we need all the prayers we can get. Pray for Kolaulu's finger that it will live and that God will bless us as we work at the clinic and he will send healing power through us and out to our patients
.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Pictures of Palawan
Below is a picture of the new built girls dorm. Upon arriving, this was the first project I was a part of. It now serves as a place for the high school age girl to have a safe haven during the week, instead of returning home to constantly hostile families who stand against their faith and life choice. These young women have temporarily put aside getting married so that they can receive an education. These girls have dreams or attending college and being missionaries for the gospel and getting married and having children would hinder that dream. Please pray for all the student in our high school including the boys for they face similar pressures.
Below are some of my neighbors. Nubim and Dyibin live just up the hill from me and one day when I had m hammock out they couldn't help but beg for opportunity to get in it. It was quite an experience for boys who had never before lay in something like that having laid their whole lives on bamboo floors.
This is a picture of the mountains where I call home. If you ever get curious, open earth.google.com and search for Brooks Point, Palawan, Philippines to see where I am.
Here is one of favorite little guys name Dan-Dan after the biblical prophet. He is rambunctious and full of energy. He pulls out the kid in me every time he comes around. In this picture his curiosity for what I was working on landed him a job hammering in half driven nails I would leave being for him.
Below is a picture of the bridge man brother, Anthony Groft, came to Palawan to build in the summer of 2010. Still standing strong although being covered with water after 4 straight days of rain when two back-to-back typhoon hit the island. It is now in need of repair to the walking surface. In the soon future, I will be mounting fresh sawed lumber from an indigenous tree that's wood is as hard as a rock and is supposedly impervious rot and termites, replacing the thin bamboo that if you look closing is already breaking though.
Below is a picture of one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen. There was no editing done to this picture, it was simply the Master Painter at work.
Below is a picture of one of our classrooms between my class periods. I teach 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th grade math 4 days a week. Ages ranging from 8-18 years old. We have over 50 children coming from the surrounding villages to go to school. At the low levels they learn the grammer of their native language, basic arithmetic, and are taught bible stories out of the "My Bible Friends" and "The Bible Story" books that I was raised on. In the upper level class, students are taught Tagalog and English, 5th -7th grade level math, and study lesson center around books like "Steps to Christ", "Patriarchs and Prophets", "Prophet and Kings", "The Desire of Ages", "Acts of the Apostles" and "The Great Controversy." The curriculum for history coincides with each books of "The Conflict of the Ages" series to give them a broader few of the world during the time each book covers.
Below are some of the smiling face that greet me in Niyu, the village I live in, each and every day. I live in a village of 5 families all interrelated. Within these families are believers and nonbelievers. Over the months leading to me joining the people of this village, two families of believers moved away form here because of the grief they had received from those around them for being Christians. Please pray for the people and their children and for reconciliation both among themselves and between themselves and their Savior.
Carrying for Christ
When the day started I knew it was going to be a special day. I didn’t know exactly where the intuition originated but I know now it wasn’t without reason. To give a little back story from the day leading up to today, Thursday, November 10th. It was just last weekend that I was treated for malaria, three days of being dizzy and dazed while sleeping away from home in the clinic. The day following my recovery I found my way to the basketball court to shoot some hoops with the other Christians because it’s the only source of entertainment that doesn’t involve gambling here in the mountains. While playing basketball I jammed my big toe rendering me useless and sending back to my lesson planning where I should’ve been anyways. Lesson learned the hard way. That night I returned home just in time to see my roommate off. Which is another story in and of itself possibly coming later entitle, ‘Nomadic Missionary: the Chip Story’ another time though.
Now, fast-forwarding through a week of a busy school schedule we come to this afternoon, when I found myself with extra-free-time, three words that don’t often fit together here in Kementiyan. In order to stay busy, I decided to hike home to do some needed improvements to my house and certainly get to spend some quality time with all the kids in the village. I can always count on their smiling faces to greet me, as they had done the first time I returned home from being away at the clinic over the weekend. I didn’t realize how much I had grown to love their unique smiles, and I even had grown fond of their individual little eye balls that can be seen peering through the cracks in my bamboo walls at night, at first a little startling but now a enjoyable occurrence.
I had returned home in effort to build a small porch to entertain my nightly visitors with their curious eyes and loving smiles. While nearing the end of my project, I got help cleaning up from one of the boys. (I discovered, later, that today was his birthday, Nubim, 7 years old.) I had looked up the hill to see his father, Dyun, had return home, so making use of my limited but becoming function Palawan vocabulary, I suggested that we go see what his dad was doing.
After walking up the hill, we exchanged greetings. I inquired about what he was doing and since it’s always funny to hear a Kanu, short for Amerikanu, attempt but mispronounced every word, he obliged and explained that he was making the base for the basket his wife I assumed had weaved. While talking, I just happened to see two of the male church members coming through the village, carrying a sick patient in a “bakid”. The their main way of transporting heavy things whether it be rice from their farm, produce to sell at the market, or in this case a 50 kilo man are in these baskets. A “bakid” is a weaved -basket about 3ft tall, 2 ft wide, and 1ft deep. Instead of carrying it on your shoulders like a traditional backpack, you wear a single strap across your forehead putting the brunt of the weight on your neck. As you can imagine very uncomfortable and hard to keep your balance at first, but after my experience today I wouldn’t want to carry 110 lbs any other way.
The man they were carrying had been an in-patient at the clinic the last couple of days with Black Water Fever, Typhoid, and possibly malaria, he had reached the limit of the capabilities of our little jungle clinic. Especially on a day like today, when the doctor on staff here had spent 6 hours of the day placing over 100 stitches in a man’s hand who had nearly blown it off while making a home-made grenade used for hunting pig but that is another story for another time.
One of the two men approached us while we were talking telling us what they we doing. They were carry this patient of ours out of the mountains to the lowlands so he could get treatment at the hospital. Then they extended the invitation for me to join them. Since I never like to turn down adventure and because they only had one good flashlight and their other light was a cellphone, I quickly accepted and ran to my house. I had lost a really good LED maglight, during my malaria experience, which wasn’t even mine and in my rush I quickly prayed for help to find it. It just so happened to be in the first place I looked. Praise God for being the best lost and found in the universe. I palm a boiled potato and scurried out of the house.
Coming back up the hill, I saw two of my high school students waiting for me. Apparently, they had heard word that people needed help carrying the sick patient out of the mountains and being two Christian young men they sprung into action. I join them and we quickly went up the hill to catch up with the pair that had left already with our sick friend.
Once we caught up with them, I started to see their system. One man would carry, followed by everyone else. He would carry as far as he could and then turn the basket over to the next man and return home while the other continued. This way the patient is always moving and being quickly transported to urgent medical care. It was moving down the line one man after the other, each one giving it their all and then passing it on to the next guy. It resembled a highly efficient relay race, each man doing his legs and passing the baton , but instead of racing against an opponent we were racing against time and night fall.
When we had left my village, there were experienced strong backs and necks who had navigated this trail countless times and with them one American with his flashlight. Now don’t get me wrong I feel I am as fit and strong as the best of them but when it comes to carrying 50 kilos of human being on my forehead I felt I was lacking. So I did my part and helping hold the basket when it transferred from one person to the next, never holding the full load but being as helpful as I could.
We kept pressing on, making great time. By this time, our group had shrank down to four of us plus one guy who had joined us later down the trail and everyone but me had taken a turn carrying the basket. Then one of them suggested that I give a try. So when the next man tired out, I took my turn. This wasn’t my first time carrying a basket but certainly the first time with so much weight and human weight at that. So saying a pray I lifted him up and wow, was this man heavy and awkward. Just try to imagine hiking on a muddy, dark, steep, trail and by steep I mean when hiking up these trails you are more or less kissing the dirt in front of you, with all together to much weight on your forehead. But to my surprise I wasn’t doing as bad as I thought I would, yes I was going a little slower than everyone else but I was doing it.
But pride cometh before the fall and having slippery, mud covered, foam sandals doesn’t make that fall any better. I was coming down a rather steep section overlooking a dark drop off I slipped and lost my balance. Only by the grace of God and the protection of His angels, I was able to my balance and stay on the trail but not before jostling the patient around. Alarmed, as they very well should’ve been, they quickly suggested that my turn be cut short and out of fear for the well being of our sick friend I willingly obliged to hand over the basket. But instead of turning to return home I decided to go on, being more than half way I didn’t want to stop now.
As we continued to hike discouragement set in on my mind. Feelings and thoughts of being incapable and thoughts of what they must think of the American who tried to carry but almost made the patient worse off than he already was. Those thoughts all coming before I overheard one of them jokingly compare me to former student missionary and saying that I just wasn’t skilled like him. All of these things put me into a bubble of selfishness and loathing. But after some prayer and the Holy Spirit reminding me of the task at hand: we were still hiking in this dangerous situation where a man’s life was at stake. After that reminder and recalling that in true service to God there is no room for self, my mind was won back to positive thinking and continued intersession for our sick friend.
We kept hiking now getting closer to our destination. We could the see the lights below and ocean beyond under the full moon lit night sky. Being collectively tired we stopped for our first real break but not because of our fatigue only but party because of the bumpy ride had put our friend in a great deal of pain. Sitting there the cool night air condescend into steam as it rolled off our panting tired bodies, the thought smacked me right between the eyes that we needed to pray. At this point there weren’t only Christians with us, but there was also the wife of the man and the passer-by we recruited to help. With the thought to pray, came the impression that up to this point we were taking credit for what was going on and resting on our own strength would have given cause for prideful gratification if success was achieved. I asked one of the high school students to pray. Timelk prayer and although I didn’t understand all he said, he poured out his heart to God, asking for strength to press on. Even now I am touched by the thought of the humility but boldness in his voice, while he spoke with the “Empe dut langit”-“ God of heaven.”
Being near our destination and seeming to have regained strength we continued down the mountain. Down the winding and steep trails we continued. After a little while we stopped again, but this time because the group was fatigued. Between deep breaths and to my surprise I was asked to carry our friend. When first asked I was apprehensive, thinking what if I didn’t regain my balance this time or what if I’m not really strong enough to do this, but those thought were cut short as I asked myself “who was carrying the basket? And who had just asked for guidance, protection, and strength?” We didn’t just ask any god but we to the ever hearing God of the Universe who has current personal stake in the lives of every person on the trail because of our Savior Jesus Christ and the blood shed for us to be reconciled to Him. We supplicated to the God who had already given His only begotten Son, what more wouldn’t he give to us to finish the task at hand.
So with the confidence of having heaven on my side I lifted our friend and started to hike. The next few steps though difficult and scary seemed but seconds, like a blip of the trail and before I knew it we had arrived. Now after saying our good-byes and sending the patient on to the hospital we turn back to the trail leading home. We began to hike and curiously I paid close attention to what I had missed before while carrying the basket. But after hiking for a little ways and then further and still further, I realized after retracing the steps I had carried the basket for more than a kilometer. What had seemed like a blip on the trail was actually muddy, slippery, and steep, just as steep as before, but when I was hiking on it just moments earlier it seemed like flat, dry ground.
Reading this through the second time through, I am certain now that God carried that man down the mountain and let me just walk under His faithful hands. I know that heavenly angels though unseen guided my every step. I am convinced that those angels are still with that man in the hospital guiding the doctor’s hand to bring that man back to full help. All because our God “who is a very present help in time of trouble” inspired, heard, and answered the prayers of His children. Going forward now, no matter if I’m walking with or without a heavy load; carrying someone or being carried myself; I can have confidence, I’m never without my Best Friend: the one who promised to be with me always even till the end of the age is faithful to fulfill His promises.
Now, fast-forwarding through a week of a busy school schedule we come to this afternoon, when I found myself with extra-free-time, three words that don’t often fit together here in Kementiyan. In order to stay busy, I decided to hike home to do some needed improvements to my house and certainly get to spend some quality time with all the kids in the village. I can always count on their smiling faces to greet me, as they had done the first time I returned home from being away at the clinic over the weekend. I didn’t realize how much I had grown to love their unique smiles, and I even had grown fond of their individual little eye balls that can be seen peering through the cracks in my bamboo walls at night, at first a little startling but now a enjoyable occurrence.
I had returned home in effort to build a small porch to entertain my nightly visitors with their curious eyes and loving smiles. While nearing the end of my project, I got help cleaning up from one of the boys. (I discovered, later, that today was his birthday, Nubim, 7 years old.) I had looked up the hill to see his father, Dyun, had return home, so making use of my limited but becoming function Palawan vocabulary, I suggested that we go see what his dad was doing.
After walking up the hill, we exchanged greetings. I inquired about what he was doing and since it’s always funny to hear a Kanu, short for Amerikanu, attempt but mispronounced every word, he obliged and explained that he was making the base for the basket his wife I assumed had weaved. While talking, I just happened to see two of the male church members coming through the village, carrying a sick patient in a “bakid”. The their main way of transporting heavy things whether it be rice from their farm, produce to sell at the market, or in this case a 50 kilo man are in these baskets. A “bakid” is a weaved -basket about 3ft tall, 2 ft wide, and 1ft deep. Instead of carrying it on your shoulders like a traditional backpack, you wear a single strap across your forehead putting the brunt of the weight on your neck. As you can imagine very uncomfortable and hard to keep your balance at first, but after my experience today I wouldn’t want to carry 110 lbs any other way.
The man they were carrying had been an in-patient at the clinic the last couple of days with Black Water Fever, Typhoid, and possibly malaria, he had reached the limit of the capabilities of our little jungle clinic. Especially on a day like today, when the doctor on staff here had spent 6 hours of the day placing over 100 stitches in a man’s hand who had nearly blown it off while making a home-made grenade used for hunting pig but that is another story for another time.
One of the two men approached us while we were talking telling us what they we doing. They were carry this patient of ours out of the mountains to the lowlands so he could get treatment at the hospital. Then they extended the invitation for me to join them. Since I never like to turn down adventure and because they only had one good flashlight and their other light was a cellphone, I quickly accepted and ran to my house. I had lost a really good LED maglight, during my malaria experience, which wasn’t even mine and in my rush I quickly prayed for help to find it. It just so happened to be in the first place I looked. Praise God for being the best lost and found in the universe. I palm a boiled potato and scurried out of the house.
Coming back up the hill, I saw two of my high school students waiting for me. Apparently, they had heard word that people needed help carrying the sick patient out of the mountains and being two Christian young men they sprung into action. I join them and we quickly went up the hill to catch up with the pair that had left already with our sick friend.
Once we caught up with them, I started to see their system. One man would carry, followed by everyone else. He would carry as far as he could and then turn the basket over to the next man and return home while the other continued. This way the patient is always moving and being quickly transported to urgent medical care. It was moving down the line one man after the other, each one giving it their all and then passing it on to the next guy. It resembled a highly efficient relay race, each man doing his legs and passing the baton , but instead of racing against an opponent we were racing against time and night fall.
When we had left my village, there were experienced strong backs and necks who had navigated this trail countless times and with them one American with his flashlight. Now don’t get me wrong I feel I am as fit and strong as the best of them but when it comes to carrying 50 kilos of human being on my forehead I felt I was lacking. So I did my part and helping hold the basket when it transferred from one person to the next, never holding the full load but being as helpful as I could.
We kept pressing on, making great time. By this time, our group had shrank down to four of us plus one guy who had joined us later down the trail and everyone but me had taken a turn carrying the basket. Then one of them suggested that I give a try. So when the next man tired out, I took my turn. This wasn’t my first time carrying a basket but certainly the first time with so much weight and human weight at that. So saying a pray I lifted him up and wow, was this man heavy and awkward. Just try to imagine hiking on a muddy, dark, steep, trail and by steep I mean when hiking up these trails you are more or less kissing the dirt in front of you, with all together to much weight on your forehead. But to my surprise I wasn’t doing as bad as I thought I would, yes I was going a little slower than everyone else but I was doing it.
But pride cometh before the fall and having slippery, mud covered, foam sandals doesn’t make that fall any better. I was coming down a rather steep section overlooking a dark drop off I slipped and lost my balance. Only by the grace of God and the protection of His angels, I was able to my balance and stay on the trail but not before jostling the patient around. Alarmed, as they very well should’ve been, they quickly suggested that my turn be cut short and out of fear for the well being of our sick friend I willingly obliged to hand over the basket. But instead of turning to return home I decided to go on, being more than half way I didn’t want to stop now.
As we continued to hike discouragement set in on my mind. Feelings and thoughts of being incapable and thoughts of what they must think of the American who tried to carry but almost made the patient worse off than he already was. Those thoughts all coming before I overheard one of them jokingly compare me to former student missionary and saying that I just wasn’t skilled like him. All of these things put me into a bubble of selfishness and loathing. But after some prayer and the Holy Spirit reminding me of the task at hand: we were still hiking in this dangerous situation where a man’s life was at stake. After that reminder and recalling that in true service to God there is no room for self, my mind was won back to positive thinking and continued intersession for our sick friend.
We kept hiking now getting closer to our destination. We could the see the lights below and ocean beyond under the full moon lit night sky. Being collectively tired we stopped for our first real break but not because of our fatigue only but party because of the bumpy ride had put our friend in a great deal of pain. Sitting there the cool night air condescend into steam as it rolled off our panting tired bodies, the thought smacked me right between the eyes that we needed to pray. At this point there weren’t only Christians with us, but there was also the wife of the man and the passer-by we recruited to help. With the thought to pray, came the impression that up to this point we were taking credit for what was going on and resting on our own strength would have given cause for prideful gratification if success was achieved. I asked one of the high school students to pray. Timelk prayer and although I didn’t understand all he said, he poured out his heart to God, asking for strength to press on. Even now I am touched by the thought of the humility but boldness in his voice, while he spoke with the “Empe dut langit”-“ God of heaven.”
Being near our destination and seeming to have regained strength we continued down the mountain. Down the winding and steep trails we continued. After a little while we stopped again, but this time because the group was fatigued. Between deep breaths and to my surprise I was asked to carry our friend. When first asked I was apprehensive, thinking what if I didn’t regain my balance this time or what if I’m not really strong enough to do this, but those thought were cut short as I asked myself “who was carrying the basket? And who had just asked for guidance, protection, and strength?” We didn’t just ask any god but we to the ever hearing God of the Universe who has current personal stake in the lives of every person on the trail because of our Savior Jesus Christ and the blood shed for us to be reconciled to Him. We supplicated to the God who had already given His only begotten Son, what more wouldn’t he give to us to finish the task at hand.
So with the confidence of having heaven on my side I lifted our friend and started to hike. The next few steps though difficult and scary seemed but seconds, like a blip of the trail and before I knew it we had arrived. Now after saying our good-byes and sending the patient on to the hospital we turn back to the trail leading home. We began to hike and curiously I paid close attention to what I had missed before while carrying the basket. But after hiking for a little ways and then further and still further, I realized after retracing the steps I had carried the basket for more than a kilometer. What had seemed like a blip on the trail was actually muddy, slippery, and steep, just as steep as before, but when I was hiking on it just moments earlier it seemed like flat, dry ground.
Reading this through the second time through, I am certain now that God carried that man down the mountain and let me just walk under His faithful hands. I know that heavenly angels though unseen guided my every step. I am convinced that those angels are still with that man in the hospital guiding the doctor’s hand to bring that man back to full help. All because our God “who is a very present help in time of trouble” inspired, heard, and answered the prayers of His children. Going forward now, no matter if I’m walking with or without a heavy load; carrying someone or being carried myself; I can have confidence, I’m never without my Best Friend: the one who promised to be with me always even till the end of the age is faithful to fulfill His promises.
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