Barefoot and blind

There are so many moments in missions that go unrecorded, that happen so unexpectedly that they could never be caught on camera. I wish I had an applicable photo to accompany this story, but instead I have only the memory to carry with me.

My team spent this past week helping the missionaries in Malaybalay lead a spring break medical mission trip for American college students. This afternoon we headed to the bus station to begin our trip back to Camiguin.

As we were unloading our bags from the back of the car, a little girl ran up to us, hand outstretched, begging for pesos. We've been cautioned against handing out money on the street; adults often use children to beg money for them and then turn around and spend it on themselves, even for alcohol or cigarettes. A better option is to buy the children food, but this is not always feasible, such as this afternoon as we hurried to get our bags on the bus.

I stopped what I was doing to look into the face of the little girl; one of her eyes was covered with a milky white sheen -- probably blind. As I glanced from her to my luggage and back, wondering what I could possibly give this child that would bless her, I caught sight of her feet. They were wrapped in little plastic bags. It's not uncommon to see barefoot children here, although most of the kids in our neighborhood own at least a beat-up pair of plastic flip-flops -- slippers, they call them. But somehow, seeing this girl with bags on her feet made my heart sink. I wondered in that moment about the condition of her feet -- were they cut up or infected, that she was trying to protect them from the rough and dirty pavement?

And that's when Jesus blessed me by opening my eyes which, like this little girl's, are often blinded, not to the physical world but to the spiritual reality of how God wants to use me.

"And the multitudes asked him [John the Baptist], 'What then shall we do?' 

And he answered them, 'He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none."

I am overwhelmed as I write this by God's goodness, that He gives me opportunities to live out the Gospel in a literal way in my everyday life. You see, I brought two pairs of shoes with me to the Philippines. And this precious daughter of God had none.

"Slippers? Gusto ka?" I asked her as I pulled them out of my backpack. She looked a little confused, then nodded and gingerly moved one foot forward as I placed my flip-flops on the ground in front of her. After sliding her feet into them, she turned around and ran off.

I'll never know her name or whether she has food to eat or a roof over her head, but I pray that the shoes are a blessing to her. May Jesus hold you close tonight, little one.