It is 2 a.m. I seem to be the only one still not sleeping with the exception of the cabin crew and pilots. As I look around me in the dim light of the airplane at the bobbing heads in awkward positions I reflect on my 11th trip to the Philippines.
It was clear that I needed a rest. Although I was very involved in the planning stages and preparation for the Harvest Mission team, dear friends and Hope Board Members, Dennis & Charlene took leadership of the team while here. What a joy to see their passion in action! When my husband Brian left with the team for Canada I took the time I had longed for and needed with family. My ministry work came second for the first time in years.
Being on the other side of the world is a challenge to maintain family relationships. I feel as if I am torn between two worlds. The lazy island tempo can at times be hard for those of us who are people who thrive on a schedule. Time can seem to stand still, yet in other ways I feel as if I just got off this airplane and now I am heading home leaving behind my son, daughter-in-law and two amazing grandchildren. I cannot forget to mention the Hope family (staff) that create those huge footprints for the ministry.
Although this island can only be described as a paradise in regards to scenery, it can be likened to the wilderness at times. Wilderness experiences in the Bible were a time of reflection, could be a time of growth and were always times to access personal faith levels. The mark of a person who has experienced significant growth is the ability to love and live as Christ did when you are tried and tested.
We recently designed a new Hope for the Island brochure. The theme centres on the idea that each footsteps brings Hope to the people of this island. Footsteps leave an impression, especially in the sand. They are unique and individual to each person. As I ponder our new direction with the brochure, I think of the significance of the theme of each footstep bringing Hope to the people of this island.
Footsteps of a foreigner like myself into the local village brings smiles, a following of children, curious stares (very acceptable culturally) and questions about where your companion is (why would you walk alone?) and what is your name. Squalor is everywhere and reminds me of how far from home I am. The hot midday sun beats down. Escape from the heat is a must. All, including the mangy dogs enjoy a nap. Limp sleeping bodies are on the ground, draped over a motorcycle, on a rickety table, or on a chair in the entrance to a simple shanty store.
As everyone wakes up, there is no escape from the loud Asian shows on television or the crackling distorted stereo speakers that pump out karaoke tunes while a local croons into a microphone. It is acceptable for locals to gather at doorways of simple huts peering in to watch. You won’t get any complaints about the loud music. In spite of their evident poverty, second hand equipment is purchased on a payment plan that would equal a cup of coffee at Starbucks.
I follow the footsteps of two frail nanays or elderly mothers with sinewy arms and legs, a toothless smile, homemade machete in hand and a pile of firewood balanced on their head. They are returning from an early morning trip to the jungle mountain area where they collected the wood.
The sizes of the footsteps as I head back to Hope for the Island somehow seem bigger and further apart. They are hard to follow. Very early mornings and intense tropical heat zap energy levels quickly. Being face to face with extreme poverty and third world conditions will surely in a very short time, reveal your own lack of patience, peace, love, kindness or any other fruit that you thought you possessed as a child of God.
There is nothing to hide behind here. Your nakedness becomes evident. All that we hold dear in the western world is stripped away. Even though it is a fun and even welcome adventure to begin with, it is not long before you will long for the comforts of home and find out what you are really made of. The same airplane seats that seemed so uncomfortable now seem like a lazy boy recliner on the way home compared to the very erect, small and uncomfortable Asian seating I experienced while here.
Ministry at Hope for the Island continues to step out as God leads by His Holy Spirit.
Mercy Ministry
Word came that Ramone heard I was at Hope for the Island. He couldn’t wait to see me and showed up early.
A weathered and smiling young man called out my name and came running with a bear hug for me. I was mindful of the many diseases he carries. His liver is working at less than 10%. I wonder if he still has TB. Years of skin disease leave him looking older than we suspect he is. Life on the streets had taken its toll. I wonder what story he will tell me today.
He began to reminisce in a combination of Visayan and English. We talked of my previous visits to Hope for the Island when he lived here. He proudly pulled out a piece of weathered paper that appeared to be a birth certificate. He insisted it was his, but the age and name did not verify that. This is the second one he has had showing a different age and name. He seemed optimistic after meeting some relatives who recognized him. His journey to find his birth parents, name and age has been an ongoing dream without any success, since I first met him in 2003. Pray he will uncover his past.
That night he sleeps in the village with a family and joins us the next day to visit. He is restless as usual; his life on the streets beckons him. He anticipates the customary gift of toiletries and used clothing from Hope for the Island Mercy Ministry. I see that Ramone has matured physically but he still has the mind of a child. As usual, he asks for money for his boat ride back to Surigao. We don’t believe that handouts create responsibility. He is told that he will have to wash the vehicle and spend some time cleaning the property. To my amazement he proudly puts on a pair of lined track pants and a long shirt he was given for rainy season to start his work. Exhausted and sweating profusely he later comes looking for his boat fare.
His love for Papa Derek and Momma Jenn is evident in his eyes. They share years of history. Stay tuned for a full story on Ramone coming soon!!
More of Elaine’s Trip to come see Part 2
