Seeing our Papa!

I had the amazing opportunity to see Pope Francis IN PERSON while visiting Manila this January. We waited on the sidewalk for four hours, and it was totally worth the wait! 

The hidden blessing behind the long wait was that we had an awesome opportunity to evangelize the policemen and "human barricade" volunteers lining the street. All of us missionaries were singing praise songs to pass the time, and soon people nearby started asking who we were and making song requests. We told them about our mission work and even invited everyone to join us for a group Rosary. (We also practiced doing "the wave" up and down both sides of the street.)

Finally, the Holy Father arrived! It was a powerful moment, witnessing him pass by and recognizing that he is indeed the successor of St. Peter and the Vicar of Christ here on earth.

And although we didn't get a personal audience with the pope, we did happen to run into him one week later outside a Catholic bookstore in the mall. He didn't mind at all when we asked for a group photo. 

We love you, Pope Francis!!

Our God heals

One of my favorite students, a young man named Kevin, approached me after English class, clearly with something important on his mind.

"Ma'am, will you please come to my house and...um, heal my brother?"

As he said this, he motioned with his hand to demonstrate how he has witnessed us praying over his sick classmates on numerous occasions.

"Yes, of course I will come," I replied, quickly adding, "but I cannot heal anyone. Only God can do that."

Earlier that morning, my team and I had been meditating on the Gospel story of the woman with a hemorrhage who, in great faith, reaches out to touch the hem of Christ's garment and is healed. We were struck by how Jesus can bring about miracles when we simply ask in faith, and together we prayed that the Holy Spirit would direct us toward someone in need of healing. And now, just a few short hours later, here was Kevin humbly asking me, his English teacher, to come lay my hands on Alan, his sick brother.

My teammate Joanne explaining the Scripture story to Alan.

Three of us visited Kevin's home that afternoon. Together with his mom, we reread the Gospel story, traced a cross on Alan's forehead with holy water, and prayed for a miraculous healing. It takes some amount of faith to pray in this manner, and always there are the doubts -- what if nothing happens? What if the family is disappointed and I look like a fool? But still we prayed.

A few days later, back in the school, my teammate pulled Kevin aside and questioned him about Alan. A big smile crossed over his face. "Ma'am Rebecca healed him," he said. Kevin's English isn't always perfect, but I believe he understands in his heart what happened that afternoon and knows Who it was that healed his brother.

Salamat sa Diyos! as we often say. Thanks be to God the Healer! And thanks be to God for allowing us to act as His hands and feet.

Kissing Jesus

For the past week I’ve been feeling a little empty inside, as though my heart isn’t totally engaged in what I am doing; maybe you could call it spiritual dryness.  It takes more of an effort on my part to smile sincerely, to participate fully in conversation, to feel real empathy for the suffering people who come to us seeking comfort. I attribute it mostly to fatigue. Last year, as new arrivals on Camiguin, we had ample time to rest and relax as we transitioned into our new house and lifestyle. This year, we returned to our mission house to find ministry projects already awaiting us! It felt like we hit the ground running, and, as a result, didn’t have the luxury of an adjustment period.

Yesterday I was feeling sorry for myself as I struggled to fully engage in all that was going on around me. I picked up Maggie, the three-year-old daughter of our missionary companions who are living here with us in Sagay, and we made silly faces at each other for a while. Then Maggie grabbed my cross and asked “What is this?” She held it up to my mouth so I kissed it, and then she did the same. Maggie is a repeater -- she often picks up a phrase or action and repeats it over and over again to a point of exhaustion -- so it was no surprise yesterday when she held the cross up for me to kiss a second time, and then a third, the two of us taking turns back and forth.

It was a moment of realization for me -- a moment in which Jesus Christ was inviting me to love Him even more. Sometimes we do not “feel” the love of God as tangibly as we might like. Sometimes following Him in faithfulness is purely a matter of the will, as we choose to say yes to God even though our natural tendencies draw us in other directions. St. Augustine says, “Believers are strengthened by believing.” I know this to be true because, as I make the free choice each day to believe in God and to serve Him, regardless of my human emotions or feelings, He increases my faith even more.

When Maggie, in her childlike innocence, held the cross to my mouth to kiss over and over and over again, I could feel my heart responding with a committed love - perhaps not the passionate ardor of someone who has recently fallen in love, but the stronger, deeper love of someone who has experienced the emotional highs as well the times of silence, of quiet togetherness, of simply “being” and not having to do or say anything to assure one another that love is still present.

I pray for the return of fervor and ardor into my heart, but I am not afraid of this quiet interlude, either. I know that during this time He is testing my faithfulness, the depths of my love, and so I respond in hope and with the surety pronounced by Simon Peter when the Lord Jesus questioned him:

“'Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?' And he said to Him, 'Lord, You know everything; You know that I love you.'" St. Peter, help me to love Jesus as you loved Him!

Back in His house

How good it is to be back in my mission home! This afternoon found me praying in the church, thanking Jesus for having brought me back to this place and these people who have captured my heart. After a while my silence was happily disturbed by four little girls who had come bearing flowers to offer to Mama Mary.

"Ate Rebecca!" I have a terrible memory for names, especially with so many children in town, but I recognized the girls from last year and was glad to see them again. I watched as they placed their freshly-picked flowers around the Nativity creche with such care and intention. They weren't escorted by parents -- this was no forced devotion. They had come freely, in their love for Jesus and His Mother.

They ambled around the sanctuary for a few minutes, stopping to pray beneath the crucifix and a moment later giggling as they took turns standing behind the pulpit. I marveled at how much God's house is a home to them, and how they could at once display both reverence and the total comfort and relaxed joy that you would expect of children playing in their parents' home. It reminded me of when the child Jesus is lost in the temple; He responds to the Blessed Mother's queries: "How is it that you sought Me? Did you not know that I must be in My Father's house?" (Luke 2:49)

As I finished my prayer time, kneeling and raising my hands in praise of Him Who made me, I heard the tittering of quiet laughter. The girls had settled into the pew behind me. I opened my eyes to see the sun casting shadows on the stone floor in front of me -- my own large shadow and on either side matching smaller ones. Two of the girls were imitating me with their hands raised in the air, and they evidently found it funny. I laughed a little along with them. Sometimes the job of a missionary is so simple. Do you love Jesus? Are you not ashamed to let it show to everyone around you? Then you, too, can be a missionary.

2014 - A year of service and grace

This year has been filled to the brim with blessings and miracles as we have seen the hand of GOD at work in our mission! We were able to minister to the physical and spiritual needs of countless Filipinos. With the help of many generous donors, we gave over $28,000 in medical funding, academic scholarships, housing and school renovations, food, and other material needs.

Medical needs - over $12,800
We provided everything from bandages and blood tests to surgeries and hospital stays for 40 people! Some of the more involved cases included:
Jezreel - high school boy with a fractured arm
Ana - teenage girl who attempted suicide
Jane - nine-year-old with a fractured skull
Jeffrey - two-year-old hospitalized for dehydration
Patti - new mom who needed a c-section
Biwan - young mother with late-stage cancer
Pelita - young mother with tuberculosis and arthritis
Samuel - middle-aged man with lung cancer
Kristine - middle-aged woman with weekly dialysis treatments

Jeffrey and his mom Jona during his stay in the hospital.

Education - $3,440
Provided partial and full scholarships for 14 college students and 13 high schoolers.
Taught three subjects in Holy Rosary H.S.
Tutored 15 high school students in English or religion subjects.

Romero and his family - we sponsor his older daughter and son's tuition.

Housing - $3,500
Built two new houses.
Repaired two houses.
Provided one cement floor and one nipa roof.

A beautiful new house for a family in great need.

School renovation - $8,600
Provided new flooring, paint, and ceiling fans to improve Holy Rosary H.S.
Sponsored partial salaries and uniforms for teachers.

Food - ??
Finally, we have no estimate of how much funding we used to feed the hungry people of Sagay. Multiple cups of rice given daily to beggars at the door, countless meals shared with children at our table, and many bags of food given away to whole families.

Aside from all this material support, we tried to fulfill our most important work of preaching the Gospel and bringing Christ to all people! We led Bible studies, organized retreats, and mentored young people to help them grow in their Catholic Faith. Many of our students learned for the first time how to read a Bible, and others began to develop a personal relationship with God through daily prayer. How good is the Lord, to use us as His hands and feet!

Having a home

Tonight I watched The Hobbit for the first time. In one scene, Bilbo has mysteriously disappeared, and his companions assume that he has run away and returned to his town of Bag End to escape potential dangers and hardships. To everyone's surprise, he soon appears again and explains:

"I often think of Bag End. I miss my books and my armchair and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back... 'cause you don't have one. A home."

Hearing this, I felt a lump begin to rise in my throat and tears fill my eyes. I've been in the U.S. for just two short weeks, and the days have flown by. I've never been more grateful for little comforts and simple joys -- the familiarity of home.

Every once in a while I remember that my time here is limited; in less than one month I return to the Philippines for another year on mission serving on the island of Camiguin. And there is some part of me that fears this reality because it means leaving once again my beloved home.

But when I heard Bilbo's words, they reminded me of why I do want to return. For those who have no real "home" due to a broken family, who were abandoned by one or both parents at an early age and have had to grow up alone. For those whose homes are empty structures because they cannot afford bedding or a proper bathroom. For those whose homes are lacking the joy of the Gospel, the pure delight that it is to know Christ.

Because in the end, we are not missionaries to build an earthly kingdom, but a heavenly one. We are pilgrims on a journey, traveling toward our heavenly home. Like St. Paul explains, "We know that if our earthly dwelling, a tent, should be destroyed, we have a building from God, a dwelling not made with hands, eternal in heaven." (2 Cor 5:1)

Jesus, help me to be ready to leave everything behind at the moment You call. May I be filled with a holy indifference that will allow me to surrender my home and my family so that I can serve those who have no place to call home.

Prayers of the poor

In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus heals a blind man. In our mind’s eye, the scene is picturesque - the man and Jesus meet and have an unexplainable encounter that is both human and divine. We are touched by Jesus’ care and concern for this man’s suffering and great need.

Now picture this:

I am walking home, caught up in my thoughts, unaware even of the street beneath my feet. My mind is flooded with situations that must be tended to -- the physical, spiritual, emotional, and financial needs of all the people we serve. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Rosalinda approaching. She is only in her 50s, but poverty has run its course on her body, and she appears to be a much older woman. An outsider may rightly label her a beggar, for she repeatedly comes to our mission house to beg for her daily bread.

She looks like poverty - blackening teeth, unsteady feet, sunken eyes. She smells like poverty. She speaks her poverty.

“Ma’am, I’m hungry, ma’am. Give me the rice.”

How many times I have heard these same words from her. I try to offer a little smile, but she keeps on:

“Ma’am, I have no food. My house....no rice, ma’am. No coffee. My husband, no work.”

Was it any different for Jesus on the road to Jericho, confronted by a blind man?

“He shouted, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!’ The people walking in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent, but he kept calling out all the more, ‘Son of David, have pity on me!’”

Jesus, in His unending compassion, pauses and addresses him. “‘What do you want Me to do for you?’ He replied, ‘Lord, please let me see.’”

The requests of the poor are rarely extravagant or wrapped in palatable euphemisms or disguised in pretty paper. They are raw and brutally honest. Their need is real.

Rosalinda and I make our way together to the corner store. I hand her the bag of rice and offer to pray with her for her family. But as I begin the prayer, her words tumble out over mine, and I stop to listen.

“Lord, thank You, Lord. Please help my family. Help my children. Help my husband find a work. Thank You, Lord.”

Her words are real - there is no guile, no pretension in them as she humbles herself before me and before her God. I know now what prayer is meant to be.

Our friend, Lola Dory, in a chapel her grandparents built.

Just as with the blind man who, upon receiving his sight, gave glory to God, Rosalinda gives glory to her Father in heaven, to the One Who provides for all her needs. I, too, give glory to God, thanking Him for teaching me all of this through His littlest ones.