In the eyes of the ocean, I am endless.
Our last blog written by Andrew left off with another night on the concrete floor. Though sleeping on concrete isn’t what we are accustomed to, it’s not so bad really. Andrew and I prepared for the trip by buying some amazon small air mattresses. And after my second use, mine sprung a leak. So truly on the concrete floor it is. That’s ok, watching Dale makes it easy to not complain. The man is a true pioneer trooper. He never even considers the air mattress and at any time just lays right down on the flat concrete with the lights on when his body finally tells him it is time to sleep. Dale is one of those people who is energized by being with people… and he sure does it well. You can tell the deep woven weaves of connection that are scattered throughout this place all tying back to him at some point in the thread. Both with those who are in the church and beyond even. ‘Missions is not really about strategy. It’s all about relationships.’ This is what he told me, and this is what is true.
We woke up Sunday Morning to the hustle and bustle of busy men and women cooking a whole pig for Caramoans 19th annual celebration of the Faith, Hope, and Love Christian Church. They had been roasting and preparing it since the night prior and it sure smelled good. We got up and cleaned our things, and started our process of filming and getting ready for the day. Andrew has given me some freedom any day that I am preaching. He asks less of me as a helper so I can focus on some prayer and review of my sermons before I give them. It’s been the same sermon each time, as I learned years ago good evangelists do. It has been said they are great preachers because they only have 2 or 3 sermons that they preach 100 times vs a 100 sermons preached once. While this is of course not true of all of them, it is of course true of some, and it is the strategy I chose for this trip. So I prepared once again to preach, but this time for a bigger audience at a bigger church celebrating a bigger event.
Church starts at 9. Which means that people start really arriving at 9:15, and church actually started about 9:50. We call this Philipino time, and to the type A personality it is hard… but it is also refreshing. We wait for people, we stay longer and visit if we need to, and we go when we can and when is needed. Sometimes busyness and schedules can be the enemies of community. Go to see too many people, and you build a relationship with none.
As church began, we were again greeted by an amazingly powerful prayer and worship. ‘Salamat, Salamat’ played again, and the ladies in this church were zealous beyond measure for the Lord with sister Blanca dancing her heart away. I later heard that sister Blanca had TONED IT DOWN to be more mellow for us. I so want to see her let loose now. At the end of worship and a short prayer time, it was time to preach. I did not have my usual interpreter as this area spoke Bikolano instead of Tagalog, and so Pastor Khelen was my interpreter this time. He introduced me by telling the people that I am a preacher from Montana, and that I will die one year before him as I am one year older, to which everyone had a good laugh. It is hard to land a joke through a translator to a different culture than your own so I am thankful that he could lighten the mood before we even began.
As I preached this sermon for the 3rd or 4th time, depending on how you count, it was easily my best delivery. I know because Dale said so, but I also felt so. People responded. I got excited. I even got that tingly feeling that I have come to suspect is when the Holy Spirit is really taking over, something I pray for in every sermon. People seemed touched, and many afterwards told me the message of not being alone was something they needed and was greatly encouraging.
As part of the service after my preaching, they called me back up to the stage to thank me with a hand drawn picture of me, a creatively designed graphic of me, and a certificate for being their preacher for the 19th Anniversary Celebration. I am so honored they would do this, and I have loved to see that all Philipinos have a sense of humor too. If I ever have an office again, these things shall hang there.
Service continued with Dale encouraging everyone and a time of communion and I found my first souvenir of the trip. You should know that I am strange. Growing up in Montana I have seen a million gift shops. They are everywhere. Usually authentic Native American Beads with a made in china sticker posted or engraved somewhere on it. Most gimmicky souvenir’s hold little value to me. I like things that are truly unique to the place I am fortunate enough to visit, as well as unique to the experience. My first souvenir is my communion cup. It is just a normal little plastic cup no different than you would find in any church in the US. What is different about it is you can tell, this cup has been washed. And used. And washed. And used again and washed again. It is an evidence of the way of life here. No waste, and use what you can as much as you can. And communion is a symbol of our community with God and with His church. So I am taking one of their cups (I hope no one gets mad), so that I can remember my community with them, and keep myself more humble about what I have back home.
After our time with church we feasted on the roasting pig. All the platters were delicious and even though I knew some would hurt my stomach (simply because my body is not used to all the different flavors), I enjoyed it all immensely. As children dressed to their best and adults young and old wandered around the church courtyard in community, we shared a great meal with the pastor and his family. It is uncomfortable to me to be the guest of honor anywhere, as at any potluck I usually make it a point to be in the back of the line so that everyone else can have their fill first. Here however we eat first, and we are usually the only ones at a table. This is just their way of showing hospitality, and it would be even more disrespectful to not accept it. So graciously, I am thankful for them.
Afterwards we did an interview with Pastor Khelen, and after each and every interview we feel like we are catching our stride more and more. After this we had a bit of a siesta if you will. We were treated with a trip to the location where a few seasons of the Survivor series was shot in Panimam, a barangay near Tabgon. Here is where we did something that I really needed even before this trip began. I stepped into the waters… and I said and did nothing.
In the eyes of the ocean, I am endless.
That statement may seem backwards, but it isn’t. The ocean is certainly endless to my eyes or any other eyes fortunate enough to gaze into her magnificence. But some know that the ocean itself gazes back. Back into the heart. Back into the soul. Back into the very inner parts of our being. A part of ourselves that we remain fully unaware of before it slowly reveals itself by the ever ebbing and flowing of the waters. We will never crack the depths of our spirits the way God knows us… but the waters help. In the eyes of the ocean, I am endless, and I am found.
I can stare into the ocean for eternity. It is one of the absolute few places on the planet where my mind can truly quiet down enough to consider what is truly important. This is a rare occurrence to me, and it does not happen often. Perhaps it is the mega introvert in me speaking, but there are really only 3 things that can trigger it for me. High mountaintops, calm beaches, and a cloudless night sky where the stars are on full display. I know the ocean can be dangerous of course, but so is God. Yet God is good. So too, is the ocean. I stood there… not as long as I would have hoped but as long as I felt able without hindering the rest of our crew, and just…. breathed for a while.
Afterwards I collected my second souvenir, this a family item. Wherever my wife and I go on mission, we collect a bottle of sand. There are not many places yet, but so far we have Tanzania, Trinidad, and now the Philippines. I hope for many more bottles someday. We had a nice meal at the restaurant there, trying things I would NEVER have thought to try, but delicious all the same. Or Sarap! (the Tagalog word for delicious).
Finally to end our evening. I took some pictures of the stars, and we headed to the church for a night of rest. The next day was a long travel day back to Navotas. Ecclesiastes tells us that ‘time’ is one of the 3 great equalizers of mankind, and time is what we wish we had more of. We wish we could have spend more time at all of these churches, but alas, we must press on.
On this trip I have indeed dealt with some health challenges. Nothing major I don’t think, but some weird feet and leg swelling that has yet to dissipate completely, some strange looking bug bites that don’t itch and looked far worse before they got better, and on this trip…. Some repercussions of all the different foods we have been trying. Dale to the rescue with some high powered imodium and we were good to go. I don’t share this to be weird but to set the reader some realistic expectations. You go on a mission trip to a foreign place, you will have some symptoms here and there, and it is totally ok. Just roll through them with a smile and wisdom, and any sickness can no longer hinder your path.
After roughly 10 to 12 hours of driving, we arrived back in Navotas. Happy to be at our home here in the Philippines, we loaded our stuff into the church, and took our rest for the night. The next day was fun, and Andrew got to see more of the city than me, so I will let him take on the next blog and tell you what it’s like in the most densely populated city in the world, Manila.
