Last night much to my chagrin the weather took a down turn and we went from fifties to 7 degrees with snow…a winter storm warning is forecast through tomorrow with six to eight inches of snow possible by noon tomorrow .  I walked in it and regretted it long before I finished.  Any wind at these temperatures is brutal and that was no exception today.  It makes it easier to think of the Philippines when it’s this cold…the tropics sound heavenly to me about now . 

I don’t think I can ever forget entering Davao City the first time and meeting Andy’s family.  Andy’s dad was a retired police officer who had become a pastor.  He had several young people in his church who he cared for because the families of these young people were so poor they couldn’t care for their kids and so pastor helped as he could involving them in church work and keeping them fed.  These young people were so good to me.  It was the first time I’d met so many my age that were walking with God with all their hearts.  They ran the church often because Pastor Andayan felt they should be trained to do that and his health was failing.  Pastor walked strongly in prophetic things and was a very energetic preacher.  He would struggle to go with us when we went to remote villages…even when he was in terrible physical pain.  His devotion blew me away.  Our means of travel to these villages was anything from walking, wading small rivers, riding on top of over crowded jeepneys like this one:  or slogging through knee to waist deep mud.  I’ve seen pastor sweat not just from the tropical heat but from enduring awful pain to get where we needed to go.  Sometimes we nearly froze at night in the little villages but then roasted during the day.  The young people we traveled with frequently we began to call the Philippine Eagles.

There are natural Philippine eagles and at the time there was a wild life refuge near Davao City where you could see two of the then famous eagles they had.  They named one Pag Asa (hope) and the other Pakakaisa (unity).  They were breeding them in the hopes they could bolster the wild population.  These majestic birds are also known as monkey eating eagles because at one point people thought that was their exclusive diet…such is not the case but the name can still be heard.  The moment I heard the name of the two eagles they had I was struck by it’s prophetic nature for the nation of the Philippines.  Seeing them for the first time was also a life changing experience .  I so much heard God speaking to me of the importance of the Philippines.  This was not the first time God spoke to me about spiritual things through nature.

Perhaps a parable that I heard once and have taught in the Philippines can help relate what I felt God was saying.  Once there was a poor farmer who was starving.  He did raise chickens but they were all very skinny and not very appetizing to look at.  The farmer lived near the jungle so he thought to himself that it would be a good idea to go and see what he could find to eat.  He walked for some distance and paused to rest.  He looked up and saw a huge eagle fly from it’s nest to hunt for food.  He thought that he had the perfect opportunity to raid the nest while the adult eagle was away.  Climbing the tree and gazing into the nest he beheld a large egg.  He took the egg and began his journey home.  He thought of the ways he could prepare the egg and his mouth watered in anticipation but before long his conscience began to trouble him.  That eagle nest had only one egg…was he going to eat the single egg now?  He finally caved in and put the egg with the chickens who sat on the egg and eventually raised the eagle as a chicken.  The eagle knew only the ways of chickens so it pecked the ground seeking any scraps it could find like the rest of the chickens.  One day while searching for crumbs of food the eagle heard a cry far above the farm house and looked up with the eyes only an eagle can have.  It witnessed another eagle flying high above the ground with seemingly no effort.  The eagle had never witnessed another bird such as himself.  He looked at one wing then the other and began to flap his wings realizing for the first time he wasn’t a chicken.  Soon the eagle flew high above the farm as well leaving behind him the life he had known to become what he was meant to be.

I saw this tremendous promise for the Philippines.  The limitless potential.  They know financial poverty but have such wealth in their people.  They are like no other Asian people that I’ve ever met.  All people are blessed of God in their own way but I recognized at this time God’s plan and purpose for them in particular.  I saw a vision of the Philippines on fire but it wasn’t a bad fire…it was a zeal and drive to witness to other nations…to finally take the role of being the Pearl of the Orient.  I felt as though new life had been breathed into me as well.  Though things on the surface looked so different…whether it be the jeepneys or the food or whatever there was the common bond that all man shares…the need to know God and recognize the He loves us and has a plan for us..  This sparked a zeal in me unlike anything I’d ever felt…I was ready to live here…I believe in these people.  I would return many times…once on my own with only one other person and other times with my mom and others from our church (this is Lovely and my mom…with Andy “driving”).  I would live in a house under construction with Lovely and our children.  I had no idea the awesome things in store.  I would learn what it was like to travel with a person who was more trouble than help.  God would spare my life from those that tried to kill me in a village square.  He would tell me at first glace at Lovely that she was the one for me…you see I know love at first sight.  I know what it’s like to minister in prisons where the guards don’t watch as you minister to murderers who are free to roam about within the walls of the prison.  I’ve seen Christ in the eyes of these beautiful people.  I’ve seen Him in Lovely and my children.  I know He’s alive.

Here’s a precursor on my first meeting with Lovely:  always in the Philippines they would “auction” young people off teasing about how good looking they are and single.  I always told them I was taken and showed pictures of my then girl friend back home.  Andy would always introduce beautiful girls to me no matter how often I said not to bother.  One day we were sitting down and having a meal when he stood up and said he wanted to introduce his “Lovely” cousin…I though he meant Lovely and in pretty.  He brought Lovely in and introduced us.  I was annoyed because I hated this little game he teased me with and was less than polite.  Lovely thought I was one more religious and annoying missionary.  Try as I might I couldn’t stop thinking about her…how would I get to know her at last?  Well, that’s another story!

I’ll leave you with a few more pictures…ah the Philippines!  Surely this is paradise  !  The view of Mt. Apo not far from our house.  The area we had a short vacation at on one of our trips .  Visiting the Philippine eagles with some of the young people we called “the Philippine Eagles” .  God bless you all today…may your weather be better than ours.

Expectations are a funny thing.  They can bring you to the height of exhilaration when you begin to see things roll your way or they can bring you to the depths of despair when it all looks like it’s going wrong.  I have to admit that my hopes were high for the Philippines.  Andy played no small part in this sense of expectation.  He had quickly become my best friend.  Friendships are made tight when you go through life and death with someone.  I believe it to be akin to the band of brothers phenomenon in the military.  Andy became my brother in every sense of the word .  Relationships in the team were becoming more and more strained.  Our team leader felt that we were supposed to experience every difficulty she had so if things were easier she would ramp up the pressure.  She felt that we should be up before dawn to have morning devotions which by this time were becoming grilling sessions where wrong real or imagined were brought up.  Nobody likes such meetings at any time but it’s far worse when you’ve had meetings and traveled all day just to get up a few short hours later with someone turning on the light and grabbing your big toe yanking you out of bed to have very unpleasant confrontations.

I remember really getting into it with our team leader and finally telling Andy I was done, I was going home.  Andy always had a way of making me smile:  “Don’t worry Dong (this is Visayan slang similar to our dude), when we get to the Philippines, that’s my place we’ll kill her over there.”  He was joking of course but he did make me smile and decide to stick it out.  Part of our team was leaving for America again while some new ones would meet us in Manila.  The flight was short and uneventful.  We were about to enter another huge city but this was nothing like Bangkok.

Manila is a huge conglomerate of various barrios with millions of people.  Bangkok on the other hand always seemed more modern and concise somehow…this may well be just an illusion created out of what I’ve seen versus what I have not but such as it is that’s the impression I still have.  Manila is…well, Manila is loud and vibrant…Filipinos tend to be the same…the laugh hard and mock everything…their sense of humor is infectious but you’d better have  sense of humor yourself mixed with the ability to laugh at yourself.  Thais are far more reserved and polite in my experience…this was a shock but Andy helped me transcend this experience easily.

We had the unpleasant realization that our team leader didn’t have a place for us to stay our fist night…the person she knew moved out without a backward glance so we were pretty much homeless in the middle of this immense city.  We begged favor at a warehouse where we could just sleep on the floor for one night before moving on to Cebu.  The night staff didn’t bug us as we set up camp in the warehouse next to the crates of stuff bound for ports all over the world.  The staff seemed far more interested in drinking, smoking, joking and playing cards to be much interested in us actually.  Our team leader went to pick up our new team member who had never been out of the country…a true green horn.  She was a large woman and sadly her first step into this larger world was a doozy.  She didn’t see the step down to the warehouse in the dark and promptly fell head over heels into the room we were staying.  She came up with a face as white as a ghost saying she thought she broke something…she truly did and wouldn’t get it fixed right until she returned to America.

Our team leader was so hard on our friend that it grated on us all and it only got worse as we went to Cebu and met up with our interpreter and his wife.  The pressure got so heavy that again we were on the verge of breaking up.  We had another team meeting and our leader actually slapped our interpreter….it was the last straw for me.  I openly confronted our leader and said I was done but once again Andy intervened by suggesting that we go ahead to his city of Davao and prepare for the rest of the team to follow us later.

Our translator bought the tickets…he bought the cheapest 3rd class tickets for our ferry between islands…if you’re experienced with such things you know why.  Cheaper in country expenses = more money given to him and his wife later.  I would never have traveled that way had I known what it meant.  We boarded our ferry with me not knowing how many had sunk before in the shark infested waters between the islands.  We were packed like sardines on three tiered plastic bunks…I was the only white man on the ship.  We bought some food from some street vendors which consisted of some sticky rice in bamboo containers and some barbecued kabobs…it tasted like heaven to me.  I slept on the baggage…afraid to sleep for fear of getting robbed but nobody bothered me…later I found out they thought I was a drug dealer bringing “shabu” (cocaine) to Davao.  They kept calling me “Choy” (pronounced ‘ch00-ee’) and later I learned this was what they call a rough looking gangster type character.  I looked the part after dozing off and on on the hard bunk with my luggage.  Our port city and a long bus ride to Davao lay ahead of us but I felt every inch a missionary and I was glad to be free of our team leader for a change….Davao…here we come !  I had no idea that I’d be slugging through waste deep mud to remote villages or seeing sunrises and sunsets on tropical oceans and beaches that would blow my mind.  I could not yet imagine the thrill of seeing such places that few had visited to talk about Christ .  I didn’t really know yet that I’d return with our own team later to preach in such amazing placesnor did I have the faintest idea I’d meet the love of my life here .  This was the beginning of many trips to and from the Philippines…change was in the wind and it filled me with a thrill like nothing I’d ever felt before.

One of my favorite things in all the world is walking at night with the moon high in the sky bathing everything in a silver light.  It’s still too cold to walk at night like I do in the summer but when I see the moon like this it makes me think of the days to come.  It’s shown so bright lately that it actually almost looks like the sun in these pictures.  I like how no matter how dark the night the moon has a way of showing the path ahead clearly.  God has always been this way for me.  Though the night can be very dark indeed that light shinning on the path ahead is a comfort.  The light doesn’t eliminate the darkness but it does make a way no matter how dark it gets.  I’ve never forgotten that no matter how wonderful creation may look it’s only a dim reflection of the majesty of God.

Today as some of you may know is my birthday…it didn’t start off well, I found that somehow I had absent mindedly washed my contacts down the drain so i have to go into the eye doctor tomorrow to get a new set ordered…ugh, sometimes that’s how it is.  It’s times like that when you wonder where the light is.  I find it somewhat ironic to have done this considering in the trip to the refugee camp I lost pretty much everything but my contacts….now here I am with my old lenses trying to get this entry posted .

We returned to Bangkok only briefly since we had other places to minister.  These places weren’t as far removed as the refugee camp but they were far enough off the beaten track that it was a pretty wild frontier.  We traveled to one little village I remember that had virtually nothing in it but little huts and homes here and there.  We were going to minister in a tiny church that was struggling to start so there was nowhere for us to stay except a small two story building that served mostly as a rest stop for trucks or travelers who were going elsewhere but were too tired to go on.  This would end up being another harrowing adventure…I had some inclination when I saw the place and had that sinking feeling that it was neither nice nor clean.

India had left an indelible mark on me and this was the first trip I’d been on out of the US since my stay there.  I had not yet dealt with the issues I had since my travels there.  I noted with some bitterness that the “hotel” was run by Sihks.  I’d seen them often enough in India…they often look quite intimidating with their beards and turbans and silver armbands…it’s also standard for them to carry long curved knives.  These men who ran the hotel were very fierce and unfriendly looking.  I got a very bad vibe from it immediately.  We were shown to our room and were closely followed by at least three other Sihks who entered the room next to ours.  Andy and I stayed in one room the women in the other across the hall.  They called us in later saying they noticed that there were holes drilled in the wall and they were being watched…I saw the holes and knew it was true.  We all crammed into one room and sacrificed our bed sheet to hook up to the wall to keep the perverts next door from getting a free show.  The sense of ill will from these men was so thick that it brought growing terror as night began to fall.  None of us bothered to change our clothes because we didn’t know where there might be other peep holes…we slept in general discomfort in a filthy room too afraid to sleep for fear that the room would be broken into.

This was much like a situation that happened as we tried to leave India for the last time.  The trauma of that whole event was brought forcefully to me.  Panic wanted to engulf me.  It was like the devil himself was going to pay me back for everything he didn’t like about me.  Our night was not disturbed by anyone but there was a dog that sounded like it was being strangled…a most unearthly horrible sound.  Later we found out there had been a rabid dog loose that they were having a problem with…a real comfort.

Dawn finally broke and we were soon to leave.  We used the public bathroom in the hotel because there was no other option.  We went in groups but Andy and I were the only men so we went at the same time.  Immediately as we went to the bathroom several of the Sihks began following us very closely.  I began to think they didn’t care if they watched men or women.  Andy and I closed the door and one of us kept watch while the other showered with a swimsuit on.  Forget singing in the shower…we prayed and prayed hard!  We left the bathroom and the Sihks were nowhere to be seen….once again God had kept us safe and I knew it.

The return to Bangkok felt really good to be sure!  We had some time to visit an alligator farm which also had an elephant show and the zoo.  The elephants never cease to amaze me .  They had younger ones that would follow and try to get bananas for treats…they were actually kind of scary because they were fairly large and aggressive.  They put on quite the demonstration while the crowd watches.  Some demonstrations show the elephants strength while others would show their coordination in combat as in wars of the past .  Here’s a momma with her calf while some others show how they can work together to lift logs.  This reminds me of “The Jungle Book” !  The blue team even played soccer with a giant ball…it was so cool!  My favorite was the choreographed combat  !  I just love this elephant picture !  Watching the elephants take a bath was so much fun ! 

Remember I said that they had alligators ?  They were amazing to see.  The zookeepers fed them raw chicken…whole!  Some of them were very old…all I knew is that I didn’t want to get too close !

How quickly it seems that we were back on the way to America with memories that never would depart .  We would return several times and some of the people we met would actually immigrate to America and be in our church.  I never forget the things we’ve seen or the adventures we’ve had .  Most of all I recognize that light that guides our path is from God.  He faithfully brings us out and then brings us back again.  I honor Him for watching over us on our trips.  Next comes THE PHILIPPINES…the Pearl of the Orient where I found my wife!

I still remember the night we headed off to Mesot before going to the Karen refugee camp on the Thailand/Burma border.  We were done with our elephant treks for now .  This was all business.  There would be no elephants or guides this time .  Our travel would begin at an ungodly hour and proceed until early morning when we arrived at the last city where we would buy supplies for ourselves and food for the people in the camp.  We gathered at the bus station and put our limited belongings on a cart.  First the women went to use the restroom before boarding then Andy and I went.  We came back to find our bags completely unattended…I don’t know where the women went or our friend who was supposed to watch the bags.  We were glad to see all the bags were...there...except...mine.  I was utterly stunned, I brought nothing except a few shirts, an extra pair of pants and my bible and walkman..and my camera.  All of this was gone including the items I needed for my contact lenses.  The shock quickly gave way to rage that seemed only just below the surface in me.  Don’t think that the irony of my bible being stolen along with the pictures of my then girlfriend Mandy.  That old bitterness that had long followed me since India came back with force as once again I was hit where it hurt most...God sent me here..why was this happening?  Understand that on the surface it’s no big deal but once again if you’ve got issues about things and you get hit there over and over..the pain is unreasonable.  Besides all of this that was all I had in the world and it was too late to turn back now.  I punched a column in the bus station and nearly broke my hand…futile rage..

Boarding the bust I tried to think of the good times we’d had…the peaceful beauty of the jungle in the treks we’d had .  I tried to let peace fall on me again.  We finally arrived at the town of Mesot…there was a little hostel there that served some nameless meat with rice…I was amazed at how thinly they could slice the meat.  I was informed to my horror that it was rat ears..rats were prevalent enough that it found it’s way to being a local specialty..ugh.  I found a Gideon bible that was half Thai and half English that would serve as my bible for the rest of the trip.  I found some small zip lock bags and bottled water to store my contacts in at night and some cheap tee-shirts to wear.  We bought bags of rice and enough supplies to scrape by for a week in the jungle where there would be no more way to purchase anything. 

It was a long trek through the jungle to the camp…very wet and muddy in some places.  We marched along roughly in single file .  I tried not to think about our team leader’s horror stories about the rats that often plagued the camp.  Finally we arrived to our destination.

There was a flourish of activity as we brought the much needed rice to the people who survived on donations from various countries around the world.  Communication was difficult because they spoke Karen while others spoke Thai and of course we only spoke English...getting all the information about things took a long time.  We heard before bed that a little girl had just died of mosquito born encephalitis.  There were no mosquito nets and we feared the rats would come for us at night.

Night descended like a thick black quilt.  It was surprisingly cold at night and we had only thin sheets to keep us warm.  I will never forget the sound of the generators sputtering on the last of the rationed fuel as the few lights died.  Andy and I couldn’t sleep a wink for fear of rats gnawing on us in our sleep.  There was also a big ruckus that was going on..we didn’t know what it meant until the next day...

The pastor was a Baptist but not only that..he filtered supplies to the Karen rebels that were fighting the Burmese just across the little hills on the outside of the village..occasional gunfire and artillery could occasionally be heard...if you’ve never heard that sound trust me when I say you’ll never forget it once you do.  The problem with this little arrangement with the pastor and the rebels was of course that at night the Burmese would bring their elephants and their AK’s across the border at night and search the camp for rebels and interrogate the pastor…if they suspected us we could have easily been killed that night but the pastor somehow managed to keep us a secret that night.  He earned my respect for this since I figured he had just faced death to keep us alive.

Our meetings were very difficult with the need for two translators…the pastor was tired because of his ordeals with the Burmese soldiers and juggling our supplies to the Karen rebels.  It was very tiresome and difficult work.  I met with a man who was a medical missionary who tried to help the wounded in the camp.  Those poor people.  Malaria was rampant and there were very limited supplies.  The Karen have their back to the wall because Thailand doesn’t want them and the Burmese want them dead.  This war had been raging since the end of WWII but I’d never even heard of it.

We finished a meeting and word came that we were wanted in another part of the camp.  Our team leader opted to send me and Andy to go where they wanted us.  We had another long trudge through the muddy jungle trails around the camp.  I felt that old familiar anger and bitter helplessness again.  I wondered what good I could possibly do in this place…and what on earth could we possibly be doing wandering through the jungle?

Finally we cam to a dilapidated hut.  It was very low and I hit my head (again)because of my unfamiliarity with the low doorways.  It was so dim that I could barely see anything.  A thin beam of sunlight filtered down through a hole in the thatched roof.  My eyes widened as I began to realize what I was seeing.  There was a human form…but there were no eyes…there were two arms but they ended in stumps not hands.  Small drying wounds covered the face of this man that kneeled on the floor in front of me.  His empty sockets turned towards me as we were introduced to the other people in the room.  A regal looking man walked up to me.  He was wearing combat fatigues and I knew immediately we were in a secreted area where the Karen rebels were.  Another man with eyes as black as coal stood next to the regal man I would learn later was Colonel.  This soldier had fatigues with his shirt open to reveal a terrible wound in his side…a hole nearly as big as a baseball was there!  He had a tattoo on his arm with the grim reaper having in the folds of his cloak many skulls…some of the places for skulls were as of yet un-detailed…I realized immediately that detailed skulls were of those he’d killed while the others were for those he would yet kill.  The man with no eyes or hands had received his injuries via a grenade blast.  He began to softly speak as my mind raced to grab hold of what I was witnessing.  The Colonel told me that the eyeless man was quoting scripture.  I have never had my heart so broken as at that moment.  The Colonel asked me to pray a blessing over him and his soldiers…I stumbled through a prayer the best I could…nearly chocking on my tears.

Finally we left.  I don’t even know how I made it back.  I was a different person in an instant.  Horrified and honored at the same time for the chance to witness what I just had.  Blessed that God would trust me here and yet sorrowful at yet another death of my innocence now forever gone.  We had several other meetings and finally we came to our last meeting.  I was teaching the best I could and finally a hush fell on the crowd as I spoke.  Tension in the air felt like electricity.  A small group of soldiers came towards the me with the Colonel leading.  He shook my hand and thanked us for being there.  The eyeless man was there and I asked him if he knew who I was.  He said:  “Of course I know you, I never forget a voice.”  I couldn’t help but weep.  We left the camp with the blessings of the camp director.  I wasn’t able to take pictures because of the loss of my camera..much to my deep regret to this day.  Our last meal with the people was painful.  We ate food that was near rotten and the rice was filled with small stones.  Many like to donate rice but the quality was often very bad and small stones were added because of course it was sold per ton… 

Leaving the camp I felt forever changed.  The hike out no longer seemed too difficult.  I realized that many whom we preached to would not be alive should I return…most left to fight once again in the war that nobody knows about.  Later I learned of a Karen legend that told of a white prophet coming from outside to tell them of the truth.  I began to see why they treated me with the respect they did…I was not the first or the last white man to visit.  I figure they feel they don’t want to miss the chance to get some hope from the old legend so outsiders that visit are lucky to them.  These are children of war.  Fighting to them is something learned from youngest youth.  There’s no purple heart for the wounded…simply rough medical attention before returning to the fight other countries don’t care about.  I don’t know why I was given the opportunity to witness this but when I have the chance to remember those days I’m filled with a sense of melancholy.  It was beautiful yet terrible..the Colonel and the eyeless man and the grim reaper man are ever etched in my mind.