RAW HOPE: A MISSIONS JOURNAL

Everyday is Bitter Sweet

2012-02-29T23:40:00.001-08:00

Since making the decision to come home, everyday has been bitter sweet. Every morning waking up under the Philippines sun feels like a blessing, because we know it won't last. When its pointed out that we have around 8 weeks left, we relive the disappointment of not being able to raise the funds to stay the full two years, or longer, and a big part of us is denying that we are coming home.

Now when I sweat so much that my shirt is thoroughly soaked (usually because a baby is on me) it is quite a pleasurable experience. When I am sitting in horrendous traffic, I try to savour the moment. Even when a cloud of exhaust chokes my throat, I appreciate the distinctly scented Manila city air. When I am playing human Frogger dodging cars that won't slow down for us I try to remember that walking across a busy street in Canada is not so eventful.

Papa treated us to a trip to Subic Bay, a few hours north of the city. Even though we have lived on an island for the last year we've only been to a swimmable beach once. So when we told Aaven that we'll go to the beach when Papa comes, he was so excited and exclaimed "go beach when Papa comes" at least a couple of times a day. As I sat on the shore surrounded by mountains and the clean and clear water, my heart ached that we were leaving such a beautiful country.

Subic Bay

We only have a few weeks left. Now every conversation about Jesus seems to have more significance, because there is now a time element added. Every time someone I am discipling seems to "get it," my heart jumps. A clock is now ticking. There is only so much time we have left to live for Jesus in the Philippines.

Wait. Isn't true that we only have so much time to live for Jesus wherever we are? Maybe if we realized the brevity of whatever current circumstances we are in, we would more fully live for Jesus each day, and appreciate what is around us more. Ah, the Philippines has taught me many things. God's plans are good, pleasing and perfect.

A Stroll Down Papa's Memory Lane

2012-02-26T23:38:00.000-08:00

Carmi and I are rarely in Manila. Because of traffic its just too gruelling of a commute. But since Papa is here we wanted to take him to Manila Bay, Luneta Park (what it was called when Papa and Mama hung out there) and the Mall of Asia. We also hoped to take Aaven to Manila Ocean Park. So we stayed in a budget hotel just beside Luneta/Rizal Park and took in some sites.

Aaven simultaneously loved and hated Ocean Park. The fish fascinated yet terrified him.

At Rizal Park we saw the marine-gaurded statue of Rizal, and busts of other historically significant persons. At Mall of Asia we dined on the second floor facing the Bay and watched the sunset.

Welcome to my hood, Papa's old University

But the highlight for Papa was visiting his old stomping grounds. He showed me where he and Mama would walk around. After some introductions we were allowed to waltz around his old university. He showed me his high school and the Church where he had his graduation ceremony. We walked by the hospital that Charity, my oldest sister, was born. He kept repeating how everything has changed a million different ways.

And I thought about how I would feel if I had left Canada and didn't return once for 30-something years. I can't imagine what an experience it would be to, like Papa, come home and see how everything transformed, yet is still the same, the place I grew up.

We also went to Subic Bay, and few hours north of Mega Manila.

Papa calls this floating, but really its just not drowning

He's just come back from the land of his fathers, Ilocos. We actually thought he fell off a mountain cliff because he said he would come back on Sunday but didn't come back until today, Monday. Over there his relatives killed a goat for him and ate it, travelled to Pagudpud, the Boracay of the North, and visited towns surrounding Laoag like Solsona and Batac, home to Marcos' corpse. Unfortunately we couldn't go with him because 10 hours on a bus doesn't sound baby-friendly.

We've got a couple more days with him and get to do some fun things. But the funnest thing really is seeing him enjoying his journey back to his homeland and roots.

This is Myla

New Old Building

2012-02-20T07:53:00.000-08:00

This is the third venue for the Commonwealth church since we've been here. The first was on top of a Seven Eleven store. Five flights of stairs on top, and no elevator. The vertical challenge proved too much for some of our members to endure, including when Carmi was very pregnant. Then we moved to a venue that was hard to describe for me. When I was asked what kind of building it was I would something like, "its a roof. And some poles and a nice wall." It would get super hot on super hot days.

Now we are in a four-walled building again, aircon and everything. Not much security, so we are protecting our equipment with prayers. With the new old building there seems to be a good sense of excitement, especially with the youth, that get to play worship music as loud as they want. We pray the new old building will used to disciple, and glorify the Lord.

Can you spot Aaven?

Were Coming Home

2012-02-14T08:32:00.000-08:00

Well, we've finally decided. The last few months Carmi and I have been wrestling with a major question, "Are we supposed to go (and stay) home to Canada in May?" The answer is, "yes."

We had left Canada under the belief that the financial support we needed would eventually come in. I mean, we had already raised 2 thirds of it and had a pretty chunky start-up fund. Over the last year and bit we remained at 2 thirds and our start-up fund disappeared.

We faced a full year (2012) of living in serious financial difficulty. But its just money right? What's a bank account's value between us and our Creator? Many missionaries give up their lives for the gospel. Carmi and I decided that we wouldn't hold anything back from the Lord. However, we knew that we'd have to pray about what it meant that our work wasn't financially sustainable. With some anguish, we started asking and listening to the Lord about it.

We considered 5 things; the Bible, the Holy Spirit's leading, our circumstances, godly wisdom from others, and our design. We assessed and wrote down which side each thing was leaning towards (Canada or Philippines). Surprisingly, things were leaning towards Canada. I say surprisingly because we love our life and so many aspects about ministry in the Philippines. We prayed that we would be able to get rid of our own (selfish) desires and assessed again. We prayed through every issue affecting our decision that we could think of. We got input from our elders, some of our World Team leaders and a few of our family and friends. We prayed and listened more. We were still pointed towards Canada. After these last few months we had peace about it. The Lord wanted us back in Canada by May.

The decision was far more complex than I can write about, and the emotions that went with the decision are just as complex. But simply put, we feel that the Lord has done what He wanted through us, and has done what He wanted to and for us. We have learned and grown and been changed by Him. And He wants us to finish strong here in the Philippines, then back in Canada by May.

No matter what we feel about all of this, our faith tells us simply that the Lord's will is good, pleasing and perfect. We trust Him in what He has done, and to what He is leading us to. Our next few months will be very exciting, and we will be working to both finish well in the Philippines, and plan our move back across the pond. Whatever happens, we humbly admit that the Lord is control, and submit ourselves to His awesome self.

Papa has Arrived

2012-02-10T23:29:00.000-08:00

Papa landed in the Philippines. I forgot to tell him our address so he use a random one on the customs form. I also gave him the wrong airport instructions because I assumed he was arriving at the international terminal. Instead he landed at terminal 3, usually only for domestic flights. So I knew I had to find him right when he left customs or he would wander around Manila for all eternity.

Did I mention this is the first time he's been in the Philippines in 39 years? He left as a twenty-something in the 70's when I was still a twinkle in his eyes. We hopped into a cab and he immediately asked where the seat belts were. We then cut in front of an eighteen-wheeler and he exclaims "whoa, what's that?" I had to explain to him how traffic in Manila works. I had to explain to him a lot of things. It must have been pretty weird to the driver that a younger, non-filipino accented guy was explaining things about the Philippines to someone like Papa.

He is currently fighting off jet-lag, and we are hoping that our travel arrangements work out. We've already had quite a time laughing with Papa's "unique" sense of humor. Its just good to have Papa here.

Manila traffic? Got it covered bro.

5 Ways to Know What God Wants You to Do

2012-02-05T23:28:00.000-08:00

For the last few weeks I had little motivation to blog, because I felt the Lord wanted me to listen. Carmi and I were working through tough decisions and needed some space to take in the Lord's direction. It really sucks when we don't know what to do and feel lost or too chicken to make a decision. But getting stuck on a decision might also mean we miss out on some amazing things the Lord is doing. decision making can be hard, but with a bit of a decision-making plan, it gives us more confidence and conviction when are to make the tough decisions.

Here are five things that we now consider when we are assessing what the Lord is doing in our lives. Enjoy.

1. The Holy Spirit

Stop everything, and listen. Pray that your own agenda and desires don't get in the way, then ask God what He wants you to do, and listen some more. What is He telling you to do? Keep asking and praying until you have peace about the decision.

2. The Bible

Does the Bible have anything to say about your decision? If you think you should do something contrary to God's word then don't do it. He won't tell you to do something He already told us not to do.

3. Your Design

Discover who you are, how God made you. What makes you tick? What gives you the most joy? What are your strengths and weaknesses? What is your thinking style and personality type? What did you find pleasure in when you were very young?

Sometimes we want to do things that we are not built to do. I, for example, would like to play in the NBA, or be a spy, or an artist, or head a ginormous NGO, or even become a Werewolf. But am I designed to do that? Often we wish to be and do things that we are not built for. That's pretty frustrating. Find out who you are, and be the best you you can be. God's guidance is in our design.

4. Circumstances

God leads the way in our life story by our circumstances. When you are faced with a decision, look to your circumstances. Are your circumstances pointing you into a certain direction? Better start moving.

5. Godly Counsel

Present your situation to Spirit-filled and spiritually-mature Christians. They should not tell you what to do, but offer counsel, insights, encouragement and wisdom. Then allow them to make you accountable to obeying what God has told you to do.

Scale It

With our decisions, I put these five things on a 1-10 scale, 1 representing one of the options, 10 being the other option. Then I rated each part with a number (between 1-5 meant I was leaning to one direction and if above 5, to the other) and see which side the scales leaned. Then we kept praying and listening, then rechecked the scales again days later and made adjustments, if necessary.

After several weeks, the scales (and our hearts) were stuck on one side and so we started praying for peace about that. The peace came, the doubts left, and we made the decision.

Stop Blogging

2012-01-23T04:15:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted since January 2nd. I think its the longest absence since we got to the Philippines. At first, and I still kind of do, blame it on the little humans that demand so much attention and cry so very much. If I ever get a free minute at home to write, one of the two need some dad time and my writing time gets so chopped up that I have given up on so many posts. And when the moment of inspiration passes I can't get it back and abandon them like a dead beat dad. The posts I mean.

But then I had a realization. One of those, whoa, it all makes sense and how cool is that, type moment. You see the overall message that I feel the Lord has been telling me is this: Listen.

A few weeks ago a very wise man asked me this question, "Can you sit for half an hour and just listen to the Lord?" I took him on the challenge to listen to God more. So I've blocked out time, not to read the Bible or other books, plan ministry, do devotions or even pray. But to just shut the yapper and listen. Sometime my thoughts get away, sometime it feels useless, sometimes it feels like I'm waiting for a magic trick to happen or an imaginary friend to show up. I still feel like most of my "listening" is really my own voice pretending to be God's. But I've been listening.

I couldn't blog. It was time to listen.

I've realized that the biggest thing missing in my walk with the Lord was the listening part. I like moving and doing, action and adventure. I love talking. While skyping, one of my more common phrases is, "sorry for talking so much" to my weary listener. I've never been a great listener.

I've been relying on my Bible knowledge and theology, my past experiences and good old fashioned common sense, and got along pretty well. So listening to God on a daily basis went to the back pocket because of busyness and self-reliance. Oh what I have been missing.

Now my own discipleship begins with this question: What is God saying to me, right now?

I ask that question, and listen. I look at my circumstances. I look to the Bible. I talk it out with godly people. I sit in Starbucks and wait. I look to the Lord for what He is saying. I go back to Starbucks and wait more. The latte is cold. I wait and listen. My drink is finished, my notebook is scribbled upon and the Lord speaks to me.

What's next? Obey. But that's another post.

What's that Lord? End this post now? Done.

365

2012-01-02T08:51:00.000-08:00

A lot can happen in a year. 2011 was quite unexpected. So much didn't go according to design. I really thought I had a great game plan and that each month would smoothly pass clockwise and steady. 2011 wasn't a huge explosion of a mess but it was quite chaotic. At times, something simple like getting my family from point A to B was messy and terribly frustrating.

I look back and think of some of the more troubling, exhausting and frustrating things last year and think what the heck, 2011. What a rough go at it. Most of the year seemed like one big problem that needed solving. Or my case, like treading water. I can't tread water.

And retrospect is a bugger. There are numerous things I look back on and can easily say that if I did things differently, the outcome would have been better. If only I did that. If only.

Then sometimes I look at pictures like this,

Flight to the Philippines last January

and think heck yeah, 2011. Total awesomeness. Most of the year seemed like one big adventure set before us. Or in my case, like exploring coral reef. I love exploring coral reef.

And the memories are amazing. There are numerous things I look back on and can easily say that I wouldn't have had it any other way. If I could do it all again, I would. If only.

And now 2012 is born, and I can truthfully say that I have less of a clue to what lays on the calendar than in 2011. I am painfully clueless. And even if I think I have a clue, I know that my clue is probably a bad one. So be it.

But here is my point, I think. 365 days is a lot to work with. You might be in a very controlled environment and life seems less of an adventure and more of a routine. Or life seems out of control and you want more control to keep your nerves down. Either way, you have 365 days to tread water and explore coral reef.

And don't avoid the treading of the water, because avoiding it means missing the reef. And here is the best thing. If you can't tread water, just get a life vest. God = life vest. Now, you can explore the reef without drowning and death. Go for it.

Strap in the life vest dad, 2012 is looking remarkable

My Only Resolution

2011-12-30T18:32:00.000-08:00

I usually don't make New Years resolutions. But this year I will. Just one. I could make several really good ones, such as:

Be a better husband by not pretending to sleep when the kids cry.
Be a better Dad by not telling Aaven "daddy can't play because the end times might come."
Be a better Christian by praying more.
Be a better example by learning and doing more spiritual disciplines.
Be a better steward of money by giving and saving more by not buying ~~Aaven~~ myself Hot Wheels.
Be a healthier person by dropping some pounds and laying off the McDo.
Be a more interesting person and go on more adventures.

The list could go on.

This year I will make only one resolution. You ready for it? Here it is:

I resolve to have more God in my life.

That's it. That's all I want. Well, that's all I want to want.

All those other things like a great marriage, great kids, more spirituality, effective ministries, more money and playthings, adventures and a healthy body - can and do become distractions and idols. Then I become thirsty for these blessings, and not for God. Then I become satisfied in these things and find no need for God.

But God cannot be used. Though I live like it. I act and do and pray the way I think God wants me to behave and secretly demand that He bless me because of it. I chase after blessings and thank God believing that I did something right that moved God's hand in my favour. I am the almighty God mover that can align the universe to coincide with what I want in life.

I am not saying I won't try to be a better dad or husband or get fabulously ripped or go on adventures or give and save. I just don't want to make those things more important or attractive than finding God's grace in my brokenness and utter poverty. I don't want to do those other things thinking that if I work hard enough at them, everything will go my way and I will find satisfaction in myself. This year won't be primarily about anything other than God and Him alone. I will strive to abandon myself to Him, wait, chase and accept His direction in my life. I will live and love and work as well as I can, but I will not demand from God because of it. He alone is my reward.

This is my resolution.

Happy New Year! Fireworks from our condo window

Favourite Books of 2011

2011-12-30T04:57:00.000-08:00

I love reading, its fun. Interestingly, I never read until I really became a Christian. I actually thought that books and reading would become obsolete. I was also afraid of the nerd alert that might go off if someone saw I was enjoying a book. I am proud to be a nerd. Here are some of my best/favourite/influential books I read in 2011:

Fiction: The Hunger Games
Don't let Katniss Everdeen catch you in the woods.

Spy Novel: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
I learned a whole new vocabulary of international espionage that I have incorporated into daily use. For instance, "Carmi, I blew that street artist's cover acting as a double on the fallback." That really means "let's have chicken wings for dinner." The movie is coming out, great reviews.

Sci-fi: Dune
Super cheap in the book store, couldn't resist. It is such a weird world and I got drawn into it. Dude has a messiah complex. Actually, was the messiah. Couldn't put it down on some nights until my eyes almost fell out.

Bio: Ghost Soldiers
The story of Filipino and American soldiers that survived the Bataan Death March and Camp O'Donnell. Pretty interesting seeing one of the sites and knowing my grandfather went through it.

Children's Book: Going on a Bear Hunt
A repetitive book that is fun to read and listen to. Aaven loves it almost as much as I do.

Christian Books

When Helping Hurts
A book about when arrogant or ignorant western missionaries go to developing countries and create dependancy.

Barbarian Way
A book about being a barbarian and a Christian. Or that Christians are barbarians. That we have been Romanized and lost our barbarian roots.

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years
A great book, just read it. Puts into language our desire to live out a great story.

And probably my favourite book of the year regardless of genre:

The Forgotten Ways
An amazing book about the Church on mission. Written well and has shaped my thinking.

This is a picture of Myla

Year End Review of The List

2011-12-29T02:02:00.000-08:00

Snorkelling in the South China Sea

It comes time to evaluate THE LIST that I made, a bucket list of things that I planned to accomplish during the year. The really cool thing is that while I wasn't able to do everything I had hoped, others things happened that I didn't count on. For instance, I planned to climbed a huge mountain, but never had the chance. But I did go white-water rafting for the first time with the coolest cats of Canada for Jeff's epic bachelor weekend. Also, I couldn't do some of the things that would require travel because of the pregnancy. Of course having Myla is glorious in comparison to anything on my list.

The list also helps me see my weaknesses. There were some things I planned but didn't finish like learning some Tagalog and Arnis. Why didn't I? This is a great question that will help me better myself next year. Here are the things I did (not already marked off) and things I didn’t.

Done Diggity Done

Plant a Church (although not in the traditional sense)

5 persons I can personally disciple

Ride a catamaran, from one island to another

Swim in the Indian Ocean + South China Sea

Read at least 30 books

Start writing a book (basic outline)

Start writing a children’s book for Aaven (land on plot/theme)

The things I didn't get done:

Climb a huge mountain

Motorcycle across or around a small-er island

Learn Tagalog (measurable goals coming)

Learn some Arnis (learn basic patterns, movements)

Help fundraise for an artistic project

Give a micro-loan to a worthy entrepreneur

Eat Balut

There are a few things on here that I feel like I didn't really have control over doing like climbing a mountain or motorcycling across an island - the opportunities never really came or I couldn’t leave the family for them. But there are a few that I did have control over and I just didn't execute. I can make excuses, but I'm tired of hearing myself make them. As it’s said, "excuses are the nails used to build a house of failure."

As we close this year and I think of the fun I had on this list, I am excited to make another for next year. I will probably finish and publish it early January. Want to write a list with me? Do it, its fun. And if you fail in a lot of things like me, that’s ok too. But what is not OK is if you are putting things off because of fear or laziness. A lot can happen in 365. Let’s intentionally plan to make them awesome.

Blessed Christmas Eve

2011-12-24T09:07:00.000-08:00

Gift mountain. Jacob is santa, Joshua the boy. Maybe 2006?

This year was a most excellent of Christmas Eves. Normally, Christmas Eve is quite a ride. It starts with a meal with the Tunay family, exchanging gifts and the food coma. Then we go to the Edralin big party, which consists of more food, more gifts, a late night, and a logistical nightmare. Busy busy busy.

This year, we just stayed home. We were invited to see family, partake of the famous Noche Buena, but we think Myla is too wee to handle a big party.

Oh yeah, I'm still wearing shorts and tees out.

We looked for already cooked turkey but we had to settle for a big chicken. The sir at the restaurant said it would feed 7-8 persons. Carmi and I almost finished it. We accompanied it with some sides from KFC and a few Ferrero Rochers for dessert. Aaven just wanted yogurt. The smallest Christmas Eve dinner I've had.

Now I know I'm always preaching the reason for the season and how we shouldn't lose focus on baby Jesus and things like that. But truthfully, with all that happens at Christmas, its really easy to derail focus from Jesus to Santa, food, gifts and glittery things.

But this year, there was really no competition.

The last few weeks I have been going through some humbling transformational type stuff. I'm just seeing some new things about myself and God and its all really special.

The other night I had a revelation. And not like a "oh, I didn't know that" thing, but more like "yeah! that all makes sense now and totally applicable to my life." It was something pretty simple. I will retweet what it was:

The last year I've experience quite a bit of pressure. Thoughts like:

"I've gotta do these things right and then it will work out."
"If I just pray more, it'll happen."
"If I was more like ________ I could get it done."
"If only I did it that way, I wouldn't have these problems."

And so on.

But with the help of an awesomely smart man, a few books and some time alone with God, I've been able to deal with some of the pressure I've put on myself and work on my relationship with God. I'm reminded that God loves me, that my soul has worth, whether I accomplish much or little with my life. That what matters most is my relationship with God and my enjoyment of Him, and not how much I can control, manipulate and do. I should want God more than His blessings. I should seek the Giver, and not the gift.

This may be my quietest Christmas Eve ever, but it may also become the most memorable.

The Spy of Christmas Morning

2011-12-18T08:59:00.000-08:00

The other day I found out that there is a newly opened used bookstore near us. If you didn't know that I love books then let me tell you what I did with this new piece of information. I blocked some time, went to the store and read the title or author's name of every book in the place. Then I bought 2 books for about $4. One book was for Aaven, a fabulous romp of bears and hippos waking up in the morning to eat pancakes. The other was an Israeli spy novel. It has terrorists, Zionists and of course Russian arms dealers supplying bombs to the terrorists that want to destroy the Zionists. And some how I connected it to Christmas.

You see, when Jesus came to earth he went in all clandestine. In the middle of a war in the spiritual realm, he infiltrated our world to carry out a mission that was ordered directly from the top. Very important government people wanted him killed and sent three wise men to gather intel on the location of this "king" for assassination. Other than these men and some shepherds, not many took notice of God's arrival. It doesn't get more secretive then emerging in a manger surrounded by farm animals.

Agent 777 then laid low for about 30 years, learning and experiencing what it is like to live on our crummy planet and underwent extensive training on the suffering and temptations we experience. The subterfuge of making a living as a carpenter was of course, all part of the cover. When the time had come, he recruited and trained more agents to incite rebellion against the ruling religious classes and those controlled by the Enemy. Though the movement seemed to die by the crucifixion of this Agent, his work produced the grandest conspiracy the world has ever known. Now all who follow in his footsteps carry on the world-wide Conspiracy and work as agents for him that embarked on the greatest rescue mission, which started in a manger.

That is one of the things that has really stuck out to me this Christmas season; that Jesus was on a rescue mission. He didn't come to talk fancy with the priests, teach us how to build religious culture, or insulate ourselves from the world. He came to seek and save the lost. The sinners, the sick, not the healthy.

This year when I think of Christmas, I'll remember that it was the beginning of the rescue mission to save my soul. That I was once wandering around the waiting room to hell, then snatched out and set on the right path still smouldering and reeking of smoke.

Whenever I pass by the nativity scene, I will be reminded that I am one of the rescued of Jesus' mission. And that I am now an agent. And if you have been rescued, you are too. The manger was the start of Jesus' mission, and reminds us of ours. Manger = Mission. So get your passport ready and study your field guide, your mission awaits.

A Month in Pictures Nov-Dec

2011-12-14T06:13:00.000-08:00

Aaven and Jazz Santa

My birthday with missionaries Kevin and Kerrin

Praying at the Open Bible Study

Last meeting before the Samsons and Kerrin moved on

Preaching at Commonwealth. See the group on left side? They were watching the Pacquiao fight. I joke not.

Sending off the Samson family

Commonwealth Project leader meeting

Does your toddler read le Carre?

Everyone glad to be at Carmi's baby shower

Merry Christmas, from the Edralins

Aaven vs. Myla

2011-12-09T22:39:00.000-08:00

An epic battle has begun. Aaven's struggle of holding on to a glorious past when the universe and all its attention focused on his precious-moments eyes and droopy cheeks. When his parental units had the ability and desire to lavish undying devotion and mindfulness to his every movement. When strangers would vie for his awareness through compliments and gifts.

Those days are over. An intruder has come and stolen Aaven's thunder.

When we were pregnant with Aaven we read a lot of books on parenting. We studied different parenting philosophies and styles. The one that resonated with us the most was something called attachment-style parenting. A lot of carrying and baby wearing. On demand breastfeeding and sleeping with baby in parents bed.

So we went with it, our child experiment #1. Everything was going according to plan including sleepless nights and worn out mommy. As time passed and attached Mr. Aaven was getting older, we started to think about the future that included his siblings. We were scared. Aaven is so attached that we feared that when we would introduce a new creature into our family and divide attention, that Aaven would have serious issues and life would be hellacious for us during adjustment.

The best case scenario for Myla's birth would have been that we left him at home with someone he was comfortable with, then after birth they would bring him to the hospital, get in mom's arms and quietly meet Myla, laying on bed. But of we accomplished 0% of that plan, as per previous post. At Myla's birth Aaven was already screaming for his parents.

When we brought Myla home we were closely watching Aaven's feelings and attitude. When would the hate start? When will his clinginess to mom increase and when will he start poking Myla's eyes and jabbing her soft spot?

Never happened . . . yet. But for now, Aaven has been a real sweetheart to his sister. When Myla cries, Aaven rushes over and says, "wassa mattur baby?" and then kisses her and says, "feel bettoo?" When someone else is holding her, he comes over and asks to hold baby, which consists of him putting hands on top of Myla and staring at her face. I love it.

Attachment parenting says that if a child is secure enough in their relationship with their parents, when a sibling comes along, they will be secure enough to let baby have a turn. Or maybe it's simply Aaven's temperament and personality. Or maybe he's secretly scheming a way to get rid of her at the perfect moment, parents unaware. Who knows?

Sibling rivalry will occur, they'll fight and hurt each other, and Carmi and I will stumble through having a new addition.

But as of right now, in round 1 of Aaven vs. Myla, the winner is: their parents.

Myla left, Aaven right. Any resemblance? Same playpen different countries

Let me tell you a secret: Mom is awesome. Dad's not too shabby either.

An Epic Birth

2011-12-06T07:24:00.000-08:00

"Face, its time" she said as a matter of fact and walked into the bathroom. Stuck in sleep mode, I gathered my thoughts and blurted out, "Myla? Oh."

We ate breakfast and got ready, incredibly over-packed as usual. Made our way downstairs to the lobby and hailed a taxi; Carmi, Aaven and I along with our 3 bags.

The taxi driver took the long way out of our neighbourhood to pad the meter, so I told him that Carmi was in labor and asked to take the speediest route. He told us we should have gotten an ambulance if we wanted to go fast. Sweetheart.

We got in the hospital at around 8:30AM and went straight to the second floor maternity ward for assessment. Contractions were fast and furious. 5-6cm dilated was the verdict and the guess was that she would pop between 1-2PM.

I put the call in to the Pacis family to get to the hospital fairly soon, at least before noon. The plan was that Tita Rosie would take care of Aaven while Carmi pushes while crushing my hand. They just needed to call the driver then scuttle through traffic.

After the assessment she is brought to pre-delivery to labor until ready to push. She is on the bed having severe contractions so I take Aaven out as he gets super concerned about mom. When I think the contractions are over I bring him back and show him his mom with a smile on her face and explain that she is having stomach aches but is all right. Except that she goes into another excruciating contraction soon after, so I whisk Aavs away again. We sit in the hallway playing on the iPad. We haven't even been there an hour and a half and the epidural man hasn't come yet.

Then it happens. Coming from our room Carmi screams in pain like she just got bit by a snake that has dynamite for teeth. It was loud. Epic loud. Everyone in the hallway that I can see, about 10 persons, stop what they are doing and look towards the room.

Then she screams "DITO NA ANG BABY KO!" (my baby is here). All ten in the hallway run to the room and about 5 more from inside the rooms lining the hallway go there too. I try to distract Aaven as I hear Carmi screaming and people talking, some in a panic, some finding it a bit funny, maybe thinking she's just panicking.

They wheel Carmi quickly past me into where I guess the delivery room is. I play it cool with Aaven and continue playing Angry Birds. Those blue flailing ones are useless. A minute later a nurse comes and tells me she's at 10cm. Cows that are holy.

Its now too late for an epidural but she can get a local anaesthetic, and I'm thinking she's gonna be angry about that. That epidural was my only hope for her not killing me after. I tell the nurse that we have a slight problem, that I don't have anyone to watch Aaven, secretly hoping she'd volunteer. She does. Ha. I get her cereal, some car toys and run after my wife. As soon I leave Aaven he screams almost as loud as his mom did. I was thinking they'd give him the epidural.

I burst into the delivery room expecting the scene from alien, nurses holding Carmi down who is screaming all the ways she will exact her vengeance on me for all her pain. But there she is calm with a goofy smile, as if she just told a joke, and welcomes me into the room. The local anaesthetic was very good.

There were about 7 doctors and nurses, all relaxed and chit chatting like its afternoon tea. I'm told to take my place so the pushing can commence. Its 10:20AM.

The nurse tells Carmi to push. She does, then stops once out of breath. While waiting for the next contraction we chat about Canada and some mutual friends us and doctor have. Another contraction comes so she tells her to push and she does. After we continue our chat. Carmi relaxingly explains how we know the people they know. I ask her if she wants to hold my hand to squeeze and replies that the handle bar is good enough. Great.

Another contraction, Carmi pushes and Myla rushes out. So fast that the doctor had to scramble a bit to catch her. Three pushes, five minutes. Carmi looks like she just came back from the spa, barely broke a sweat. All in a days work.

I cut the cord, they clean her up and mom and baby are happy campers. But what's this we hear from afar? A screaming kid, I'd reckon about 2 years and 3 months old. Doctor says we should bring Aaven in. I think of the blood and gore, sharp utensils and sensitive equipment everywhere and approve. I set out in the hallway to get him and simultaneously the nurse I left him with, surrounded by 5 other nurses have him covered in a patient's gown and were bringing him to me because of freakout.

Aaven meets his sister. It was at first a bit awkward, but he knew she was family. At the moment of writing, about 40 hours since, he has yet to act jealous. He smiles when he sees her and goes for hugs, albeit way too tight.

Carmi is holding Myla while the doctors work around us and we look at each other. Well, here she is, here we go, we'll give it all we got, we kinetically communicate. I look at Myla's impossibly small face, and I see a frighteningly beautiful mystery.

So there we were in the hospital, our happy family of ~~three~~ four, in the Philippines, walking through another threshold of our story, ready to adventure on.

---------------------------------------
Myla Jade Edralin
Myla comes from sounding like "my love" as one night Carmi and I were thinking of possible names for Aaven before we knew he was a boy. When we couldn't think of any we said "goodnight my love" and boom.
Jade come from my initials - Jonathan Abraham David Edralin

The gorgeous ladies in my life

There she is, your sister

"I'm a big brother!" - Aaven

An Old Devotion I Wrote

2011-12-03T07:35:00.000-08:00

A few years ago I decided to write a devotional - 365 short essays on Jesus and being a Jesus-follower. It was going to be better than anything Oswald Chambers ever wrote. I'm joking, if I've ever suggested to you a devotional, it was OC's Utmost for His Highest. I wrote 30 of 'em, then buried the project in my "ideas cemetery" folder, along with my would-of-been-awesome blog: Workouts for Short Guys and my budget plan for the money I would make from owning donut shops. Don't ask.

I was going through some of my derelict folders on my computing machine and found the dead ideas one. I went through some of them and felt the bitter-sweet pang of nostalgia as I remembered the forceful enthusiasm I had for these wayward projects. I bet if I mentioned some, a few of you would lol because you somehow wandered into the enthusiasm. Holy Hungry Artists anyone?

Anyway, I like ideas, I don't mind burying most, and out of the lot I may of had one or two that worked out. But the original point of this post, who's introduction has gone so wayward, is that I reread this forgotten devotion I wrote, and I needed to hear it at that moment. It was like I was writing to myself from the past, which is a particularly weird feeling. I thought I would share it with you and maybe you'd find it encouraging.

Unconditional Acceptance

Joshua 1:5 “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

A child of God has unconditional acceptance. In pain, in failure, whatever the case may be, a child of God has never to fear rejection. There may be conviction and discipline, but these are signs of love and true child-hood (Hebrews 12:6).

A major hindrance to spiritual growth is the fear of rejection of a child feeling shame. Adam and Eve hid from God after their experience of shame, and feared the response of a disappointed Father.

But we are equipped with the promise of a Father that will “never leave us or forsake us.” Rejection from God is a deception, an illusion. The only children that feel rejected by God are those that suffer from self-rejection and insecurities. Never fear that God will not forgive, accept, love or try again with even the most difficult of children. His grace has no boundaries or limitations, not even for you, ever. This trust in our Father becomes part of the bedrock of our Spiritual life.

Lil Kev Big Heart

2011-11-29T08:03:00.001-08:00

One of us doesn't know how to dress

So the day has come, Kevin will leave us and the Philippines. It was a great (near) three months. Three months worth of inside jokes. It is possible that other than with Carmi, I have the easiest time making fun of myself with Kevin. And of course making fun of Kevin. I'll give you one example.

Kevin and I were sitting in a certain Starbucks - the best staffed Starbucks in the world - discussing profound and meaningless things, and a kindly gentleman walks in. Kevin observes "whoa, that's a small man." I agree, and just to be sure, I stand up, roughly 45 feet away, and report that he's most likely shorter than my chin.

Kevin needs something up at the counter. He strolls towards the hobbit, and 35 feet away he stills looks much taller. 25 feet, Kevin starts shrinking. 10 feet, Kevin looks back and me and give me "oh man I think he's taller than me look." Side by side, I see two very short men, roughly the same height. Kev comes back and we proceed to lament our small statures.

The other day, probably sitting in Starbucks, we were reminiscing over a certain conversation we had in another more Canadian coffee shop, Tim Hortons, about 5 months ago. Kev and I were catching up and talking about all the stuff we've learned over the last few months and I presented to him a crazy idea: become a short-term-missionary.

I didn't really think he would do it. And if he did, I didn't know what he would do. And if he did do something, I didn't know if it would work. And so on.

But he did do it, he did do something, and it did work.

Now he has a really cool story. And only he can tell it properly, so read his blog. And now he wants to come back for a longer term. Now he has a bigger family in Christ, and a new inspiration to serve the Lord. He is now different than he was since that conversation in Timmy's.

What I learned from Kevin:

1. Sometimes, you just gotta pick up and go. Its scary, uncomfortable and often non-sensical. But sometimes the risks are worth it. Sometimes you have to gamble. Sometimes, you have to build the courage, throw caution to the typhoon and live with the consequences.

2. You never know what can happen in three months. With such a short timeframe, I had doubts that Kevin could experience, learn and grow a whole lot. But he did. It was almost like he was at the right place at the right time and everything fell into place. Three months from now you can be a profoundly changed person. Believe it.

3. We all need our peoples. I think the most beneficial thing that happened to Kev, is that he was able to build relationships with the youth group he served. It was so amazing. It was like they were waiting just for him, and only him to serve them. When they were together it was like a family reunion. Kevin found his peoples.

And now he leaves, a changed man. Great story.

A Choice, a Challenge

2011-11-27T22:21:00.000-08:00

You choose to say hi, you make friend. You choose to have sex, a baby pops out. You choose to give up, failure ensues. You choose to be courageous, you change yourself and others.

You choose to obey God, for real, and something amazing happens.

A few months ago I was sitting in Tim Hortons with Kevin, to catch up on the last half year. I shoot him an idea, "come to the Philippines."

Why?

"I'm not sure exactly. You can learn some stuff, help me out, and let God do something in your life. But really, I'm not sure."

OK.

A choice. A bold one. And now Kevin wants to come back to the Philippines and serve, and take some Bible courses. What else? I'm not sure, exactly.

It all started with a choice. It always starts with a choice. Sometimes its one big choice, sometimes it is an innumerable amount of little choices. Either way, these choices make up the plot of our life-story. The question is whether we will be courageous decision-makers, or a timid ones. Will I really follow my dreams? Will I really obey the Lord?

The scary and cool thing is that it really is our choice. Even if we feel that it is our circumstances that determine most things, and that we don't have control, we still choose the reaction to those circumstances.

We can give in and give up, or we can choose to push through. Circumstances may be difficult, but within those circumstances are always choices.

Viktor Frankl, a Nazi concentration camp survivor, who lost his parents, wife and daughter in those camps said this,

"everything can be taken from a man but one things: the last of human freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."

In the midst of horror, there is still choice. You have the power. No one else, its not their fault.

Choose.

28 Life Lessons

2011-11-21T07:54:00.000-08:00

I have just completed 28 years of my life journey and starting my 29th. So I thought I'd try to come with 28 life lessons, because I'd hope to have at least learned that many thus far. I know I'll want to change some as soon as I publish, but here goes, in no particular order other than what came up in my mind at that moment:

1. Don't save the Best for Last
The best is for now. If you keep saving the best for last, you may never get to it.

2. Own the Moment
Every moment is special, because its temporary. Living in the moment might be the key to an awesome life, no matter what you have or don't.

3. Go Reversal on the Bucket List
Turn your bucket list into a do it now list. Go backwards on the bucket and try to get everything done sooner rather than later.

4. Read, a lot
Especially scripture, particularly Psalms and the gospels. Fantasy, sci-fi, the classics, self-help, thrillers, horror, children's books and the others. But not poetry.

5. There is a Season for Everything
Accept the seasons. Go with the flow, ride the wave. A really good wave is coming.

6. Never put ~~addictions~~ before People
It hurts when people you love think your addiction is more important than them.

7. Talk to God
I have found that are no circumstances that I am facing where prayer cannot affect me.

8. Don't get too Comfortable
The easy road is usually boring. Discomfort promotes growth, difficulty builds character. Push the envelope, expand your tolerance for pain and suffering. Then watch yourself grow and mature.

9. View your life as a Story
We all like good stories. We all like interesting characters in stories. Go for both in real life.

10. Put a Premium on Courage
Living life scared of everything, or many things is boring. Courage makes things happen, and we all like stories where things happen.

11. Do Secret Things
Good things of course. When we stock up on secret good deeds, we lose the need to impress people and build confidence without showing off. Try it.

12. Admit you are a Fool, Often
Holding yourself to unreasonable standards produces unreasonable disappointment in yourself. Laugh at yourself often, and let others join.

13. Accept other's Faults
Holding others to unreasonable standards produce unreasonable disappointment in them.

14. Appreciate Children
Hang out with children. Playing, singing, dancing and especially talking. The innocence of children is a precious gift and one to be adored.

15. Travel Light
In your luggage and heart. Hold on loosely to things.

16. Make a lot Mistakes
Mistakes are just steps towards discovery and success. Being afraid of mistakes cause us to miss many opportunities.

17. Make Money your Slave
Or we become the slave. Master it by controlling selfishness, greed and consumerism. What to find where your heart is? Follow the money.

18. Talk to your Siblings
Especially sisters. Sisters are usually better at talking than brothers.

19. Leave
Don't get stuck. Say goodbye, drop your nets, follow with abandonment. You know there is something in your life you need to leave right now.

20. Be Intentional about Community
Community life takes effort. The rewards are worth it.

21. We all Die
Love now. You or they won't be around forever.

22. Know Yourself
Learn about what makes you tick. Figure out why you do what you do. What makes you happiest and most fulfilled. Then create or chase a job description that fits who you are.

23. Learn from Elders
They are smarter than you. Sometimes hard to accept their rebuke or correction, but you'll get smarter.

24. Love Simple Things
When your tastes get so complicated that you can no longer be pleased, life becomes bland.

25. Be Thankful
The saddest thing when something great (or just good) happens is when you have no one to thank. Giving thanks completes the experience of receiving something.

26. Drop the Excuses
Usually, its only you holding yourself back.

27. Learn by Doing
You can only really learn by action.

28. Every great Quest starts with a Question
What is that burning question that keeps you awake at night? What is that "what if I ..." question that seems too unrealistic to pursue? Follow you curiosity and start your great journey.

A Certain Point of Getting Along

2011-11-14T08:25:00.000-08:00

I think I can say that we are now used to living in the Philippines. Maybe we've reached a point where there isn't too much that shocks us about the culture. I don't know when we actually reached that point, maybe a month or two ago, but I think we've been here long enough to really call the place "home".

I remember when we first got here a ton of our thinking and discussions where about how different it is and how much adjusting we need to do. Now, not so much. We are just going with the flow and riding the typhoon wave. Interestingly, thoughts of Canada are becoming less and less. This is concerning and amazing at the same time.

Concerning, because we truly love Canada and it kind of feels like we are cheating on her. And amazing because we are learning that we can adapt to another culture and do well. Also helpful, because its hard to live somewhere where you always at odds with the culture.

I preached a sermon at Church on Sunday, where I was also competing against Manny Pacquiao. He beat me by decision but I beg to differ. A group from the area set up a TV to watch the fight. Literally, they were ten feet away from me, around the corner, drinking, smoking and eating fish. At one point something happened during the fight and no one was listening to me because they were leaning and straining to catch a glimpse of what the commotion was about.

Anyway, a part of the sermon was about living as strangers and foreigners and ambassadors. To hold on loosely to things on this earth. To remember that our true citizenship is in heaven. As Carmi and I get more used to living in the Philippines, and in a way letting go of Canada, I hope that somehow we become better at being strangers, and foreigners and ambassadors.

Corporations and Gethsemane

2011-11-06T06:10:00.000-08:00

Woke up a little earlier than usual this Saturday, around 4:45AM, to make our way to Technohub as usual. But we weren't going to Coffee Bean for Bible study, yet. Kevin and I caught a taksi and I played in my mind how the day will go. It usually goes well in there, but reality seldom cooperates.

We have been praying for months, almost a year, that we would be able to somehow infiltrate one of the call centers and somehow get a wider audience to bless, challenge and talk to about Jesus. We got to do that today. We meet Olga at Coffee Bean and she escorts us to a part of Technohub I have never been. Never because you need a pass that proves you work there. And I've mentioned before how much security there is just around the restaurant part, but there is even more in where the actual call centers are.

Here is an arial view of Technohub taken from our Open Table Sky Chopper, possibly.

Add caption

As you can see I had too much fun with this. So we usually get dropped off where it says START, which is along Commowealth Ave. We don't go directly to Technohub because we would have to go another few kms to make the u-turn. We cross the footbridge, go through the gate and then we are officially in Technohub. Our normal meeting place is Coffee Bean. To get to IBM we walk behind the restaurants, follow a path and pass a few armed-guard checkpoints.

In this area, it is ascetically beautiful. Manicured lawns, a large pond with a fountain, a river with tons of fish and frogs. Quite different from what's outside. We enter IBM and proceed to the inner bowels. At the last security checkpoint I give up my bag, license, cell and pride. But we know the security guard, she has joined us on couple of occasions for Bible study. I somehow sneak in a USB key. Don't tell.

We enter the office area and it is humming with activity and talking. People seem happy, maybe because its the end of the overnight shift. I am introduced to several people including a number of supervisors and bosses. I am way overdressed. I bought skinny pants for the occasion, my first pair. I think I look hilarious, but Kevin assures me that I have finally caught up with fashion.

We are called to a seemingly random place in the office and everyone, about 100, gathered around facing a TV screen. Stuff happened then I was called up to pray to open the meeting, but I get Kevin up front to take my place. After prayer they called me up to give my talk.

My topic was Choosing a Positive Attitude. I talked about Dr. Viktor Frankl, the Austrian-Jew that survived a Nazi concentration camp. Yeah, he deserves to be heard. While in the camp, he observed a number of things, and I'll share one here:

"Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."

After, I talked about Jesus in Gethsemane, where he was facing a horrific next few days, and chose to obey God. Or live for a higher purpose, even though it included dying on the cross for us. The main parts of the talk is on the Open Table blog HERE.

Did it go OK? I think so. But however the IBM folks liked it, I feel good especially about one thing: we made it in.

We are all about being incarnational, being where the people are. We got so in, they didn't even get off work yet. And we hope its just the beginning. Maybe we will be invited back, to other accounts, or get a time and space weekly in the office to offer coaching and counselling. All those ideas are being worked on currently.

Pray it works out. Or something better.

Day of the Dead

2011-11-03T19:10:00.000-07:00

I am not sure, but it seems as though the Philippines have many more holidays and long weekends than Canada. This last one, Day of the Dead, was super interesting.

We went to Carmi's family's place in Marikina and headed to Loyola Cemetery when the temperature dropped, slightly. It is quite a large cemetery, very peaceful and beautiful. To the north it is surrounded by small mountains and contains a beautiful and mysterious chapel near the center. We had been there on two previous occasions, once to visit Carmi's Lolo's grave, and then multiple times when Carmi's Lola passed away. This time was very different.

As we made our way, there was traffic heading into the cemetery like it was nobody's business. When we finally squeezed into grounds, it was a festival. For Torontonians, it was like the CNE or a Ribfest on top of a cemetery. We snaked our way through concrete paths, Aaven pointing out the interesting sights, crossed a few grave-sites and found the family plot.

We ate, chased Aaven, told jokes, played with glowing flying things and had a good time. It was when the sun went down that things got really festive. More people showed up because its cooler sans sun. Each grave had a number of candles, creating a sombre glow everywhere. All around the place where people selling light-up-toys, and even halloween costume including Lucifer's horns alight. One particular quirky toy was a little helicopter with a light that you slingshot into the air, so when you look around dozens of these do-hickeys are flying up and down. Aaven loved it. most people there did.

While it is called Day of the Dead, it is really for those alive. To reunite with family, remember the lives of those close to us, and celebrate both. It was an interesting cultural experience.

I didn't bring my camera, but this was a typical scene

Some camped out for days at the cemetery

Thought I should throw in Aav's costume

You Can't Be Whoever You Want

2011-10-27T06:25:00.000-07:00

Suggest a picture

One of the cooler things about being in the Philippines is that I get to sit and talk with Albert Ehmann. I don't really know what to say about him, other than that he is one of the most interesting people I've met. And wise. Scary wise.

So one day I meet with him and he asks me how I think he can help me, and that he'll try. I tell him that by the time our term in the Philippines is up (January 2013), that I want to know what God wants me to do with my life. Not like "what should we do after we are done our term?", but more like "why did God put me on this earth, and what am I to do about that?"

After I ask him, his face brightens and I detect a smile and he agrees to help me. That conversation was over a month ago and now through meeting weekly, two books and 3 personal assessments later, I have learned some mind-busting stuff about myself. I mean eye-opening-why-did-I-not-see-this,-really-that's-who-I-am? kind of stuff. And I've only started this process of self-discovery and its already been jaw-droppingly valuable. One main thing I want to share is this:

Stop trying to be like someone else

One of the books that I was asked to read was The Power of Uniqueness, and while I thought the book was too repetitive for my liking and disagreeable on some points, it had a very clear message:

You can only ever be you.

His argument (as I understood it) is that from conception we hardwired to be a certain way and we cannot change that. We may be able to change some aspects of our behaviour or thinking patterns, but essentially, who we are on the playground as kids is the same person we will be the rest of our lives.

Compete and Explore

Something that I have learned of myself is that I have a pattern in my life of competitiveness and exploration*. As I worked really hard to recall old memories, these two themes kept popping up in my life story. I think that those who know me would say yes, Jon is competitive and gets bored easily. Carmi definitely agrees. I see these two themes from my childhood (I'm still searching for more), and I will continue to see them the rest of my life.

To try to change* is going against my basic design. Fighting design entails frustration and boredom. But when I accept it, I can harness these things about myself and use them to be the best me I can be. When I can accept that God has designed me this way, then I can believe that God has a purpose for me within His design. When I am living out His design, I will enjoy the task and find purpose in it. And as I mentioned earlier, I can be me, and stop trying to be someone else. I cannot be someone else.

Two super awesome purposes of knowing this about myself are:

1. I can aim to create or chase a job description based on who I am. Many people hate working because they've never worked within their design. I've never been after a big paycheque, so I wouldn't be tempted to sell-out on my design for money. But if I was tempted, I would now know that whatever job I do, design-fitting would come before salary. Because,

"its not work if you enjoy it."

2. Harness my design to glorify God and enjoy it. Our design can be used negatively. The two design patterns that came up for me can be negative in my life. Competitors can be sore losers and cut people down just to win. An explorer can be a quitter. In fact I had a string of jobs for about 3 teenaged years where I quit every job within a few months because I became bored with them.

But if I can get into a place where I can harness my competitiveness and wanderlust, I can work with purpose, joy, and within my skills and motivational triggers. My sweet spot. My competitiveness can become the drive to take on challenges and finish them. My need for new experiences can drive me to continuously learn and innovate.

The super cool thing is

that I already love what I do. I think being a missionary is difficult in so many ways and sometimes I question what madness overtook me when we decided God was calling us, but guess what? its within my design. My competitiveness drives me to take on strange and weird challenges, and there is always opportunity to explore new things. So becoming a missionary was a natural step in the direction of following God's design for me. What's next? I don't know, but I won't settle. It will glorify God and it will be within my design. I pray I can uncover more of how God wired me, and I hope you can too.

___________________________

*I'm not sure that exploration is the right word really. The pattern is that I get bored with things quick, hate feeling stuck and love taking on new things/projects.

*I don't mean we can't change most things about ourselves. Who I was before Jesus and now is completely different. Jesus changed my reason for living, my behaviour, attitude, vocabulary, wardrobe, beverages, saturday nights, etc. But the author is right, I am still competitive and hate feeling stuck. And the desired payoff from my design is as strong now as then.

Technohub, Kevin, Papa and Aaven

2011-10-23T23:35:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday we have our regular scheduled outreaches at Technohub. Last week I didn't go because Carmi had a lengthy doctor appointment which included a checkup, ultrasound and urine test. In the Philippines, that = time, and lots of it. The results are all super and we are just waiting for Carmi to ripen and pop. 33 weeks. I stayed home with the wunderkind Aaven during Carmi's appointments.

That's why its pretty cool to have Kevin here, he took over outreach. And Saturday's study. This Wednesday, we went out and gave out lollipops with verses on them. Two ladies from IBM talked to a lady that sells puto (rice cakes) on the streets. She came over to the coffee shop after selling the last few and prayed with the girls.

Then later another young lady got off of work and joined us to give out the last few candies. Now if you have read a couple of posts earlier then you would remember that the guards have been hawking us since we started outreach. They totally shut us down one time and for the last few weeks we always see them spying on us. Kev thought he saw a sniper in the bushes.

Anyway, our friend went straight to one of the guards, handed him a lollipop and said something like, "thank you for watching over us and keeping us safe." She went to another guard, heavily armed with an automatic rifle, and did the same.

That's how we roll.

But seriously, it was cool. After a bit of confusion he smiled and said "salamat."

Then I got some good news. One of the ladies was asked to be in charge of IBM's monthly all-hands meeting, which as far as I know is a team building feast and a time to hang out. And they always have a speaker that speaks on helpful and practical things to encourage the workers. So guess who they got to speak at the next one on November 5th?

This is a really great answered prayer because we have been trying to figure out ways to infiltrate these businesses and bless them and build a relationship with them. So we are praying hard that this turns into something really good. Now to pick a topic.

On another note, Papa said he might be coming in February. There is very little more awesome than that. Except for maybe this picture of Aaven. See, awesome.

Cooking me veggies again? I'd rather...

A Month in Pictures Sept-Oct

2011-10-14T02:04:00.000-07:00

Kevin at the Church of the Black Nazarene
People would rub his feet then rub the part of their body that was ailing them

Quiapo

I'm not tall but the Jeepney roof is at my head so I had to hunch over.
Me hunch over, I kid you not

Feeding some of the kids running around Divasoria
They kept following Kerrin because she's white

Aavey riding the Sicsican

"Pogi!"

Yes, those are crocodiles and yes they almost ate Aaven. Maybe.

Along Commonwealth and Batasan

On the way to a prostitution alleyway

Street Meat

The kids watching Nemo

a little before 30 weeks

Sharing Aaven's birthday cake from Uncle Kev aka Braf

Yes, it is ice cream, and it was delicious

My name is Aaven Edralin, have a good night, I'm out.

Quietly Incredible

2011-10-12T08:33:00.000-07:00

I had this post idea tucked away in my brain files for months, and now too many things are reminding me about it that I take it as a supernatural signal to write. Or something like that. The idea of being quietly incredible came to me from a blog, and I thought it was a really cool thought. Then I met someone that has been working in a ministry to prostituted persons for over 20 years. As far as I know she doesn't write a blog, send email updates, or post her deeds on facebook. I wonder how many amazing stories of hers have never been told. I don't think too many people know her. She is quiet, kind, humble, and incredible.

Today I just finished a book by Os Guinness, The Call, and one of the last few chapters was on excellence when no one else can see. We need to show up everyday whether something big or small is happening, and strive with all our might even though no one else would notice.

Yesterday I was having tea with Kevin and talking about discipleship stuff, most of the time. We were talking about getting bread so you can push someone else to the bread, but if you don't have bread then you will only be looking and not pushing. It would make sense if you were there cause I made a fancy diagram.

Anyway, it got to serving others and we talked about how serving others is so often done with motives to let others know about it. Not gonna pretend, I've done things and the thought, "awesome, this is something to blog about" has come through my head. Or, "how can I describe this in 140 characters?" or "how can I show off while simultaneously bring myself down so I can appear humble?"

Sometimes, the lack of authenticity is so obvious I want to gag a bit when I listen to testimonies, read humblebrag tweets or see on my social news feeds obvious attempts to impress others by broadcasting good deeds. And yes, I make myself gag on a regular basis.

I am not saying that letting others know your good deeds is always wrong. We know some of Jesus' good deeds and those of the Apostles. We need to set examples for each other and inform each other of how Jesus' love is spreading. I am usually encouraged when I hear stories of heroic good deeds from frontline ministries and missionaries.

But Jesus says,

"Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."

Do it when no one is around, so that only your heavenly Father sees. Keep some Jesus adventures between yourselves like inside jokes. Do good and don't tell anyone. Only care about what God thinks. Seek only the reward He gives. Be quietly incredible.

Canadian Thanksgiving

2011-10-09T07:12:00.000-07:00

There is no Thanksgiving in the Philippines, but that won't stop us from celebrating with the most Thanksgiving-type food we can find tomorrow.

So what am I thankful for?

Thankful for many crocodiles

Carmi. She just celebrated her 28th birthday and we had a blast remembering her last 365 with fondness. I can't believe she married a clown like me, and you'd agree if you knew me when we first started dating. Or if you know me now.

"pogi!"

Aaven. Words can't do justice, so I won't try. But when I stumble out of bed and he looks at me and says, "oohh mor-nin dah-dee" (good morning Daddy), I just want to squeeze him till his eyes pop out.

Myla. I feel heartbreak already. Because she is heartbreakingly beautiful. And she will one day get married and have another man in her life. . . alright enough of this madness, sheesh.

Jesus. I put him last so maybe you'll remember this part. Jesus told us in John 14 something like this,

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. I am going to my Father's house to prepare a place for you. Then I will come back and take you with me. And you now know the way. It is I, I am the way."

When I read this, close my eyes and think of this, I feel sublime peace, rightness with the physical and spiritual world and like the owner of an immeasurable yet secret treasure. My saviour is not here, but he is preparing a place for me. And all heart-trouble in this life becomes pale in comparison to this promise. Each year I am more and more thankful that Jesus died for me and calls me to live for him.

And if you believe in Jesus too, then you have much to be thankful for as well.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

A Human Baby is Coming

2011-10-03T10:12:00.000-07:00

There is this thing called nesting, and Carmi is doing it. Its when the wife gets all crazy about preparing for the baby, cleaning the house, packing the hospital bag and things like that, that she even forgets to eat. Some sort of maternal signal goes off and the message "prepare for me now" gets put into the brain until the mother is completely satisfied that the home is ready for the impending babyness.

I remember nesting with Aaven. I painted a tree in his room with a little owl on one of the branches. We put a rocking chair "under" the tree for Carmi so she could nurse. We placed his little bookshelf there so we could read to him under the branches. We had amazing baby showers and loaded his closet with blankets, onesies, hats and socks, towels, shoes and even designer accessories. We loaded his room with furniture and decorations, and our storage with all manner of baby contraptions. We had 7 showers for him, I think. On top of the gifts, we got bags full of hand-me-downs that Aaven still wears to this day.

The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil
and Lookie-Loo the Owl

Well, that was for Aaven.

Now another human baby is coming, and we don't have a room for her. Her playpen/crib/changing table/prison will go beside the dinner table (that will need to be shoved in the corner) in the dinning area, now /baby room. I told Carmi I'd hide my clothes in random places around the house to make room for hers in the only closet we have. However at the moment, we don't have a lot of clothes for her. We don't have the convenience or luxury do-hickeys because we can't use them or they are wildly expensive. And we are not planning any decorations because its not our house and we are moving soon after she is born.

So how much I do I care about not having a lot of anything as we bring Myla into the world? Not very much.

As Carmi and I were talking over our lack of baby stuffs, I lamented that Myla will be not have a lot. Then Carmi asks me, "will she be given a lot of love?" And I give Carmi my best why ask dumb rhetorical questions? look, but I answer anyway.

And at that moment we feel good about our nesting, although it is different than before. Because I miss Myla, which is loneliness to me. I feel lonely without Myla, like someone is missing. And I'm sure that means I love her. And the Mom loves her. And I just know it, that her older brother loves her too.

I can't wait for this baby, my love, Myla.

PS Carmi is 30 weeks, due December 10th. My guess? November 22nd. So be it says I.

Typhoon

2011-09-27T07:08:00.000-07:00

I went to a coffee shop this morning for a meeting that never took place. There was a typhoon. I left our condo that had no power so our food was spoiling in the inoperable fridge. I was a bit early, because I wanted to beat traffic, but there was none. Only crazy people go out in a typhoon. On the way there were waylaid signage and tree branches strewn across the roads. My taxi driver thought it added to the fun.

Some kids were standing by the road waiting for cars to drive by and spray them from the enormous puddles. Trucks worked best. I got to Tehcnohub and was immediately soaked as I stepped out of the taxi. I went to Coffee Bean. Since I already Starbucked my morning coffee I got a mint tea and found a seat by the window. And waited.

I was productive and wrote up some plans and made lists and prayed a bit. And waited.

The music was amazing. It was sad and painful, sweet and peaceful. A stark contrast to what was happening outside. I sat with my journal and my tea and the music and a raging storm.

There was no pattern to the rainfall because 106km/hr winds were trashing the torrents randomly. Branches and litter were flying everywhere. But I was warm and had tea and a cozy front-seat to nature's wrath.

I sat there for 3 hours. Trying to listen to God in the storm. It was beautiful.

And I think that God told me that the land of my fathers is beautiful. Even though there are many things I find troubling and frustrating, that the Philippines is a beautiful place, full of beautiful people that carry the image of God.

I love this country more than I did yesterday. An angry storm taught me to. My first Philippines typhoon.

Sermon Bombing

2011-09-25T07:29:00.000-07:00

I really do love preaching. I am meeting weekly with someone whom I am very much privileged to have access to. He is guiding me on a journey of self-discovery, helping me figure out how to "do what I am." Or how to create a job description that fits who I am and how I'm built.

I feel most fulfilled when I'm preaching. OK wait, let me back track. I feel most fulfilled when I am being a husband and father. But when it comes to "job" preaching is most fulfilling. OK wait, let me clarify that. It doesn't necessarily have to be preaching. I really mean communicating stuff about God, whether its a conversation over coffee, a small group or a large congregation. It is challenging and fun. When I'm preparing a sermon or getting ready for some coffee and God-talk, I feel like I am building or creating something. Its not a physical product, but when I am done I think that I feel how I would if I just painted a nice picture or built a decent table.

I bombed my sermon at Commonwealth this morning. OK wait, let me explain. I thought the sermon was half decent, but I used an example that maybe I shouldn't have. I used house-helpers. Then I talked about how we are to be slaves of Christ. Slavery is such a harsh thing, and I don't think that I did a good job or spent enough time talking about it.

Anyways, I wanted to say that when you mess up something you love doing, it sucks. But I get to preach next week at the same Church. And that's exciting and something to be hopeful about. And I like being excited and hopeful. And I am thankful that I am doing what I am.

"Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing."
-- Theodore Roosevelt

We're Watching You

2011-09-17T05:36:00.000-07:00

Our now banned prayer signs

Kevin has been in the Philippines for only a couple of hours, on little sleep and then I throw him into Wednesday morning outreach. But of course I prepare him properly and warn him of the possible snobbery and rejection. We have an amazing group this morning, 4 more persons more than our outreach last week. We go over some of the things we want to see happen, pray, then send ourselves out. Two people man the tables with the "Free Prayer" signs while Kevin and I hit the Quick Stop (think 7-Eleven) side, which is usually busy. I send Kevin over to the tables while I stop the traffic walking by.

I approach a few people and do my thing, but I am watching out of the corner of my eye Kevin, who appears to be doing something that makes me feel like laughing and crying at the same time. But that's his story to tell with a smirk and giggle. After Kevin's Quick Stop experience he follows some of the others to another busy area.

Then I see him talking to a security guard. Here we go again, I think. They make their way back to our side and tell us that we must stop handing out the flyers. We watch the guards across the courtyard congregate, talk to each other and into their shoulder mics, then walk towards us. I was going to scream out "run!" for fun. But I figure no one else would find it funny.

I greet them good morning and have a pleasant conversation with one. He explains to us that it is not permitted to hand out flyers. We chat a bit and he says that he doesn't care about talking to people, but the flyer thing is a no no. I tell him that we understand and that we will comply.

We all sit down feeling a little discouraged, and a little excited. Like criminals. Harmless and loving criminals. We talk a bit about it then continue on with the prayer signs. And then, another gentleman in another uniform walks by us and into the coffee shop. He comes out with the shift manager and tells us that we cannot use the signs. He asks us what we are advertising with the flyers and we tell him that we have a Bible study on Saturdays and wanted to give people the info.

Then he says that we need a permit to have Bible studies. The coffee shop lady looks at him screw-faced and asks, "really?" I want to argue with him because suddenly I feel like we are in a Communist or radical Islamist country. I want to ask him if they will start checking all the coffee shops and restaurants if anyone in them have their Bibles opened, but I don't want to get into an argument. I think the whole thing ridiculous and I'm sure that he will retract his statement. I leave it with another gentleman with us to discuss the matter.

Do you guys steal children, do drugs or read the Bible?

As I sit there half listening to the Tagalog convo, I think of the realities of many Christians that actually would be banned from opening their Bibles in public. I think of having to take our group underground, in secrecy running away from the authorities. I think of being arrested or beaten by this fine gentleman telling us we can't talk about Jesus over some coffee. Getting kicked out establishments and treated as a second class citizen for mentioning I'm a believer. I think of all the times I've been too shy to talk too loud about Jesus in public even though I have the freedom to do so in Canada, and the Philippines. This little experience of being told that we can't have Bible studies gives me an overwhelming respect for the underground Church members worldwide. I am not fit to tie one of their sandals.

After they discuss and he leaves I ask for a translation of the conversation. I'm told that they don't really know what to do with us because we aren't really breaking any rules, but they are not comfortable with what we are doing. We are told to get a permit and talk with management to work something out, which is in the works. I tell our group that we will still have our Bibles studies, they can kick us out if they wish. I think that would make our group stronger.

We pack up the signs and sit there discussing ways to still reach out, but not break any imaginary rules. So we think of printed T-shirts with our Bible study information and walk around as human signs, which I'm sure would tick them off even more. Or stand just outside of Technohub and do the same thing, or hit the foot bridge and ask people if they want prayer. I tell them that we'll work something out for next week. But our group is too awesome to wait for next week.

Jem, Olga and Keng legally praying with a lady

Jem, Keng and Olga decide to go back out without signs or flyers and just ask people if they want prayer. And some do. I watch and rejoice as they sit on a bench with a lady and pray with her. Marlon talks with a guy that gives us his number because he wants to join us in the future. When Feora comes they go back out again to talk with people under the watchful eyes of the guards.

One of my tasks in building disciples is to push people to reach out. Those in our outreach group need no pushing, just the opportunity.

What will our outreaches look like in the future? I don't know, but it'll be interesting to find out.

Pray for the guards and management please. I really do think that they are great people. We just ruffle their feathers.

Gooby's Birthday

2011-09-14T09:50:00.000-07:00

Still my all-time favourite pic

Two years ago Carmi pushed out a squishy bag of flub, and I met my son. He was immediately funny looking and had a cone-head, but not a nicely centered one, as it was on an angle. We gave him a ~~weird~~ unique name because his cousin was born first. We worried about SIDS and picked his cradle cap. I thought he would never learn to sit up.

Every few months I tell Carmi that I think that this is the funnest age. He's got his mom's smile, especially with the eyes. When he's sad or upset I think its the cutest thing ever, unless of course he goes into his high-pitched whine. He puts my shoes on, but never Carmi's.

He rarely fights with other kids, definitely a push-over. He's also scared of quite a few things, like slides and the sound of a blender. Right now he loves Hot Wheels. Well, he probably likes cars regardless of brand, but I like Hot Wheels. It sounds like he swears when he says "frogs" and I love his voice. His smell too, even if he's not so fresh.

He probably has more stamps in his passport than I had by the time I was 18. He's lived in 3 places we called "home" and at least 2 temporary transition homes. I rely on Carmi to nurture him as only she can and be the secure "home" for him.

I really love him. I think he's awesome and exceptional and the best thing ever. I needed to pass tests to get my driver's license, but none to become a father. I hope that I am a good dad, because he is a good son, soon to be a brother.

I got him more Hot Wheels for his birthday and I can't wait to play with him tomorrow. A little smile from him makes my day. Sigh...he won't be 2 for very long.

The Open Table Outreach

2011-09-08T04:46:00.000-07:00

The sign we used for our outreach

As I was standing with a sign saying "Got Stress? Free Quick PRAYER!" one of the security guards approached me and asked in a serious tone "do you guys have permit?"

The night before, I was up late printing our signs, name tags and flyers for the Open Table. The plan is go sit outside one of the coffee shops, Coffee Bean of course, and offer people prayer and give them our flyer directing them to our Bible Study on Saturday mornings. However, no one got back to me to let me know if they would join the outreach. So as I am awaiting for responses via twitter, facebook, email and text, and the hours slip away, I begin to imagine what it would like if I did it all by my lonesome.

"I'll look crazy" I tell myself. A lone nut that no one else wanted to join. But I tell myself in twenty different ways that it will be OK. Or that others will send me a message by dawn. Dawn comes and no messages. I kick myself out the door just after 6am, laughing at myself but thinking that at least I'll be a "fool for Christ," and that I should be joyful.

I cross the footbridge to Technohub and mosey over to Coffee Bean then plant myself at a patio table. Not open yet and I need coffee bad. I see call center workers walking around, just getting out of work. I start making mental plans as to how I'm going to approach people and then I see them, Olga and Keng! They work at Technohub. They didn't reply to my messages but planned all along to come. I am relieved. Now, we can look crazy together.

We pray together first, then put the signs up. The first person that sees the signs is a security guard. He walks past us slowly, then goes inside Coffee Bean. Keng tells me that he talking to the workers inside. I run in after him and explain to the workers at Coffee Bean that I was going to ask permission, but they weren't open yet. Then I ask permission. They say yes. I'm sure they said yes because they know us from Saturdays. The one lady already knows my Saturday morning breakfast by memory. I order us some coffees.

For about 15 minutes we sit waiting for someone, anyone to come take us up on our offer to pray. Everyone looks, and we smile at them and point at the sign, but no one comes. Plan "B". Two of us start handing out the flyers.

So something interesting. Many people didn't even acknowledge I was talking to them. I wasn't offended, much, but I did find it strange that some didn't even hint that they knew I existed. I asked Keng about it and she told me that that's the norm. Got it. I'd say the flyer things went well.

Another guard came and asked for a flyer. I was sure he was going to report us to the management of the complex. As he read it walking away, he looked back and gave us a thumbs up. He came back a little later and asked if we had a permit. I said we didn't and he said it would be great if got one. He explained that he is a believer and likes what we are doing. Awesome.

I look back at our table and Olga and Keng are praying for a lady. Sweet. A few minutes later, they are praying with another one. Cool. One of the Coffee Bean baristas comes out to talk to them and told them that she wants to pray with us. Fantastic. Unfortunately she gets super busy and can't take time to pray, but we get her contacts. We also see her there often.

We run out of our almost hundred flyers and call it a day. A good day it was. We planned to do it every week, and if we can get more teams, more than once a week. We debrief then pray for each other. Then we leave feeling like we started something good. Really good.

Jars of Fragile Clay

2011-09-06T06:10:00.000-07:00

My sister Emily has always been sick-like. When she was younger I remember that she had this crazy torso brace with thick straps that wrapped around her body. When she wasn't looking I would take the contraption and wear it and pretend it was body armour and punch myself. I was a kid, so of course I did. She wore it because she had sclerosis, her spine was bent. They then cut her foot-long and installed a metal rod in her back.

She has been suffering with Crohn's Disease. There is no cure. I don't feel like describing it, but from watching my sister (and also one of my friends) these last few years, I've seen how debilitating it is. In fact, because of my sister's poor health history, there were serious doubts that she could sustain a pregnancy. Then guess what? She calls me one day and tells me she's having twins. I don't feel like telling you what I thought the outcome of that would be at the time.

Twins 1st Birthdays

Well, after the miracle twins, and some hopeful progress with her Crohn's treatments, she started feeling...bad...if that's the word. She was weak and had a feeling it wasn't only because of the loss of blood she constantly experienced from the Crohn's.

After tests, she is told that her heart is leaking and she will eventually need a new valve. Did I mention earlier that she had a weak heart? A murmur or something like that. So with two rambunctious 15-month-olds, she has to get her chest opened, heart stopped and parts exchanged. Then stuck in bed for a couple of months. I am writing this at 8:12pm in the Philippines. That means, if things were not delayed, surgery started about half an hour ago. My amazingly supportive brother-in-law posted:

Her body is a jar of clay. But that is so His light can be shone brighter. She is one of the weakest people I know physically, but one of the most powerful on the inside. Her suffering is not unnoticed and as she is humbled by her health, she will be lifted up by the Lord.

I want to share something she wrote just before her surgery. I hope you will read it off of her new blog (Sanctified Human), but I will post it here in case you don't:

"I know I said goodbye but I just wanted to share this:

I'm not afraid.

they're going to cut me open and stop my heart and do all kinds of wacky things to me in less than 2 hours. And I am not afraid.

I have a peace in me that will carry me through this. I am comforted.

Be strong & courageous.

Trust in the Lord.

I will not leave you nor will I forsake you.

He has given me a peace that passes all understanding. Even my understanding.

Thank you, Lord!"

- Emily Karim, before open heart surgery

Prepped for surgery

Janelle M vs. The Philippines

2011-09-05T07:17:00.000-07:00

One day I came home from somewhere and 3 sisters were getting their hair cut by Mama. The oldest was a year younger than me and went to the school I was going to go to in a year. Or was it in two years? Anyway, we had an art class together once and we hung out because her family lived in the building over from ours and she was friends with Carmi. This was years ago. Recently, her younger sister Janelle asked to shadow us for about a week during her trip in the Philippines.

It was interesting for Carmi and I because she is the first person we've had with us doing such a thing, and it was really fun. Not only did she come and experience some ministry work in the Philippines, but she helped our family out whenever she could as well. She even took Carmi out to a movie, which we never do here.

There is much to talk about her time here, but its better coming from her rather than me, but I did ask her some reflection questions she could think about. Here are two answers I thought were really insightful about her experience.

Question: What is the most heartbreaking thing you’ve seen in the Philippines?

Answer: There have been many things really. Yes, life is difficult no matter where you are in the world, but here it’s a completely new definition of difficult. On one part of my trip we joined a ministry that reaches out to prostituted woman. At one point we stopped and talked to a table of woman. At the very left side I saw a young girl who didn’t seem any older than 18. In Canada I mentor a group of 17-18 year old girls and I immediately thought of them. My heart broke for her, and for the rest of the woman there. As we walked, the staff member I was with explained to me all the different ways these women came to be prostituted. They see these women as victims, and now I do too.

After outreach with Bagong Silangan Church

Question: How has your outlook changed since coming to the Philippines?

Answer: I feel the pressing urgency to make choices in my life that will be impact eternity. When I was in Bagong Silangan, I met residents of that area who were church members and leaders in their local church. They were amazing people, with the love of God radiating from within. They were walking, talking, breathing examples of the hope and abundant life that Jesus gives. I want to be like them, and I want to see others in Canada living out His love in that way. These last few days of my trip I’ve been thinking to myself that I have choices to make. Personal decisions I need to take up with the Lord. Also, I want to share with others how God has shown me glimpses of His heart for the Philippines, and for all His children wherever they may be.

Call Center Agents and the Slums

2011-09-01T07:40:00.000-07:00

We make our way deeper than ever into Payatas, a large slum a couple of kilometers off of Commonwealth Ave. The residents there live off of the land. The land is a mountain of garbage. This mountain produces methane, randomly explodes, creates fires lasting years, and disintegrates people. Literally. We walk through the Bog of Eternal Stench, arms spread eagle, balancing on rocks to avoid falling into the liquid garbage muck. We walk through alleys lined with shacks and piles of waste. The smell becomes near unbearable, even though I think I have a pretty high tolerance for foul aromas.

We are being led to a building where a Church meets, that was planted by a lawyer-professor named Raineer Chu. He has lived in some serious slums. He was a plenary speaker at the Lausanne Conference in South Africa. Professor Chu is an outspoken advocate for the poor. I see him as a prophet in the same way the Prophets of the Old Testament reminded and called Israel back to faithfulness to God and His covenant. His call is clear (as I have interpreted it), “Jesus calls us to love to the poor. If you are not ministering to them, you have failed Jesus’ test of authentic love” (1 John 3:16,17).

I am nervous that he might challenge me to redirect my focus of ministry to the poor instead of the better-off call center workers that live in paradise compared to the slum-dwellers. And what he did tell us about ministry to the poor has affected me to my core, but I will write about that at another time. I will just tell you about one bunker-busting missle he dropped on my mind. I will loosely quote him while he was explaining to us the economics of the slums:

“Due to the enormous influence that the middle class will exert on the economy in the coming years in the Philippines, it is imperative that they are reached with the gospel. This new middle class will be largely made of BPO (call-center) workers. The same group riddled with problems associated with drugs, promiscuity and immoral living. Ministry to BPO agents is strategic, little explored, and greatly important.”

This statement surprised me because it came from someone completely committed to the poor and an expert on such things. And because he is so committed, he understands the implications the middle class will have on them, mostly (from what I understand) that they will eat up resources, raise prices and make life harder for the impoverished. As the middle class grows, life in the slums will become even more desperate. Unless the new middle class is responsible, good stewards, and have an innate sense of duty towards society, especially to the poor. They must live out Kingdom principles.

Hearing the importance of ministry to call center workers from an advocate for the slums really had an effect on me. You see, when we came to the Philippines, we were pretty sure that we were called to minister call center workers, and our hearts were broken for them. We understood the potential for this group to reach out and be an influential Church in a little reached segment of society. To do that we had to say no to concentrated ministry to the poor, although our hearts were broken for them as well. But through this learning, I am all sorts of super extra motivated to continue the ministry to call centers workers because it can also have an effect to the poor.

Now, I cannot explain these things like Professor Chu, but I hope to learn more about the relationship dynamics between the rich and poor, and how the middle class can be difference-makers in the country.

I hope that to even a few, we can communicate how important this new group of middle class BPO workers are. Those that have the voice, the resources, and the power to help those with no voice, no resources and no power.

We need to reach the slums, and call centers.

A Night with Prostituted Women part final

2011-08-30T07:23:00.000-07:00

Part I, Part II

The “floor manager” of one of the bars is imploring us to sing some videoke. At first there are multiple refusals, but the by 10^th demand, one lady from the ministry sings. There is terrible feedback and crackling from the mangled microphone cable. The volume, a reoccurring theme in the Philippines, is way too loud. She doesn’t finish the song. My partner chooses a song and stands up to sing. Its terrible singing and I laugh for the first time this night out. Luckily, she is saved by the videoke machine going berserk. They need to bury that thing.

They sing to fit in and relate to those in the bars. It seems to be working because many of the prostituted persons and even the bar managers don’t mind, and even like the people from this ministry.

After singing my partner decides to continue on to try to find the lady she has a message for. We walk by a number of other bars. Some have a second floor with ladies sitting by the windows flaunting their stuff. They sit there hoping, and maybe dreading, that an interested passerby will make his way up the steps for what I consider voluntary rape.

We stand in front of one particular bar that acts as an office for a notary public when the sun is up. My partner looks up and down and around but doesn’t see who she is looking for. She asks a lady sitting there for so-and-so and she is told that she is not there tonight. My partner is visibly upset. She later beats herself up for not finding her earlier. The message will have to wait.

We walk further on and there it is, a Church. Yeah, a Church.

So here’s the thing. When we think of a place being “reached”, we often think that if a place has a certain number of Churches, is should be considered reached. We refer to places with very few or no Churches to be “unreached”. They are considered dark places. So if we look at Quezon City as a whole, and this street in particular, then we would say that it is reached because there are many Churches here. Logic follows by some missiologists that we don’t need to bother with these places, because the Churches there should be doing their jobs.

It’s a great thought. But I can’t believe that because I saw a Church in the middle of this hellhole that it is no longer considered dark. In case you are wondering I think it’s amazing that a group would put their Church there.

We talk to a few more ladies, and then call it a night. We walk through a bustling market and ride a Jeepney back to the center. We debrief by sharing stories.

One lady from the Bible school tells us that her mindset has changed about prostituted women. She thought that they willfully chose that lifestyle and deserved the consequences. She explains that she now understands that they are all victims of their poverty, of their past or are forced. She learns that when we understand them all as image bearers of God that our mindset changes to love and compassion instead of disgust and abhorrence.

I share about how I felt throughout the night, but there is so much more I think and feel and I don’t know how to express it yet. We dance to a Latin prayer about being an instrument of peace and close in prayer. We taxi home past midnight.

The next few days are filled with thoughts about the ministry and ideas as to how to partner with them and help. I have some really big and crazy ideas, and some that are small but doable. I change my mind about some, drop a few and dream up new ones.

Then I got a familiar and un-welcomed feeling. You see, I am an idea machine. I’ve come up with millions of really great ideas. I also have a large cemetery full of these ideas.

Because ideas are nothing. Execution is everything.

And I am afraid that all of this will come to nothing. That I will leave this place and have done nothing. I can tell people that I had some good ideas about doing something and had some excellent intentions. But I wonder how many times Church people told this ministry to prostituted persons that they would do something and didn’t. I’ll just be another part of the problem that I loathe so much. That the Church won’t do anything. That I won’t do anything.

There, I did it. I called myself out. I don’t know what it is yet that I would do, but I have a feeling it will be something that you can do too.

Final thought: Jesus said to the “good-on-the-outside” religious people, a.k.a. Pharisees,

Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.

Why did Jesus say that? And if we were there when he said it, would we be on the side of the sinners and prostitutes, or the “good” religious people?

Burying a 1-year-old

2011-08-26T08:39:00.000-07:00

I went to a wake of a one-year-old. She died of pneumonia. That's right pneumonia. When I think of pneumonia I think of staying in bed, taking antibiotics, complain a bit, take some time off work and getting pampered by the wife. Not of dying. But in some places in the world people, and babies die of the thing.

People in depressed places die of things that I would never worry about. Like hunger and thirst. A mosquito bite.

Steve Jobs stepped down as CEO of Apple and my social media feeds are screaming out praise of him. He doesn't give to charity. He sells us overpriced technology. A one-year-old died of an easily treatable illness.

Yesterday I complained about feeling sick and not having as much energy as the week before and that my ankle hurts but I want to run again soon.

Then I looked into a casket occupied by a one-year-old.

Her mom can't afford the funeral. It costs 97 times less than Mama's funeral. We could've buried 97 babies that couldn't afford a trip to the hospital.

Sigh...ignorance is bliss.

We worry about our hair and makeup and clothes and shoes and junk and savings and designer food and apps and sports equipment and ________.

And someone in the world can't get a cold because it might turn into pneumonia and then die and burden their family with the impossible task of burying them.

Maybe I'll see you around, bliss. Take care till then.

Aaven Stacking Blocks

2011-08-26T00:48:00.000-07:00

Who needs Chuck E Cheese

Aaven loves and hates stacking blocks. Its cool because he wont stop. Even if he so frustrated that he's crying, he keeps at it. When he gets it right he loses his mind in celebration. He'll get us from wherever we are to show us his grande accomplishment. Then he'll knock it over and do it again. The trying and frustration and crying and accomplishment and celebration of victory.

And the blocks that he is working with are weird and different shapes because they were not made for stacking. There are stars and triangles and crosses and circles so you have to pretty much get them on top of each other perfectly. And they are hollow-like in the middle so a millimetre or so off and it all comes tumbling down. It even takes an uber-coordinated adult like myself to think a little and move gingerly to get these blocks stacked.

I hope that stacking blocks is a metaphor for his life. He loves stacking the blocks and seems so determined like its his calling. He gets frustrated but he doesn't give up. In fact, there have been times that I actually take the blocks away and distract him to something else so he won't be so frustrated with himself. Moments later he is back at the blocks.

Does he enjoy the self-punishment of undertaking such a difficult task? Why not just do something more pleasurable? Why not do something with a better chance of success?

Maybe its the pride of seeing that incredibly tall tower he just built with his tiny hands. Maybe its that feeling of "I just did the impossible" that he is going after. Maybe it makes him feel grown up and capable and gives him a sense of mastery.

I don't know why he does it or what he is after. But I think that if he carries that determination into other things in life and as he gets older, then he will be just fine. He will be better than his dad.

And maybe life is like trying to build with ill-shapen blocks. Maybe parenting is like that. I am trying to fashion Aaven into the best human toddler I can and its frustrating and amazing and difficult and amazing and tiresome and amazing and sometimes we need a distraction but we are back at it and its amazing.

And while we are trying to teach Aaven, Aaven is teaching us. More than he will ever know. And he is helping us grow and mature and become wiser and understand God more. So while I marvel at his block building, I am motivated about my own.

A Year Without Mama

2011-08-23T20:55:00.000-07:00

Its been a year since Mama left us. Its been an amazing year for us. Which makes me wish that Mama was still around to enjoy it. Every good happening comes with a question, comment or thought like, "Mama would have loved that," or "I wonder what Mama would have thought about that?"

I thought that after a year I would have something good to write like a eulogy using beautiful words and sentences that I would ascribe to Mama. But I don't really see the point at the moment. I guess words are like that tombstone on top of Mama's coffin, just a physical representation of who she was while here. Something to remind me of her. But of course they are not her.

Back home in Canada they will have a memorial service for her. Well, I guess its for us, family and friends. Maybe we are supposed to get closure or say the things we weren't able to at the funeral. Or something. I'm not sure why we have these things.

So that's it. Its been a year without Mama. That's all I wanted to say.

A Night With Prostituted Women part II

2011-08-20T20:13:00.000-07:00

We ride along the street, still busy beyond 10PM. After about 10 minutes we slow down then park. Although the place we land looks similar to many other scenes in Quezon City, I think I recognize the place, but only in the daytime. It’s really dark here. There is a lineup of empty taxicabs. They are picking women up but not bringing them anywhere. I feel angry that I tip so well. We exit the SUV then huddle on the street near the sidewalk. I spot my ministry partner for the night. We unfasten the umbrella to protect ourselves from the light rain. We put it away a few minutes later. I take in my surroundings.

To the left is a busy road, but interestingly, there are no streetlights for this part. To our right is a row of storefronts that are called “bars” at night. We are at the lower end of the prostitution scale so these bars are rundown and more shack-like. I feel like I could knock over some of the feeble walls that hold these structures up. I feel like I should. Then there are the Christmas lights, which are supposed to attract the potential customer. During the day some of these places are real businesses, but they transform once these awful lights turn on.

We walk away from a table of drunken cab drivers and head down the street passing a number of these bars. My partner explains to me that not every transaction is sexual, that sometimes men just want to have a few beers with a lady and talk. We walk by several women sitting or standing in front of their bars as my partner is searching for someone in particular. She has to give her a message.

We stop in front of a bar and my partner recognizes one of the girls that she has talked to on a previous night. We sit with her. She is drunk or high. She tells my partner that she is sick so my partner invites her to the medical mission coming up, but I can tell she’s not interested.

At this point I am incredibly nervous. I think that everyone is watching me. There are two guys from this bar, walking around and I think that they are eyeballing me. I’m afraid to be talked to. I realize that I’ll be useless this outreach tonight.

The girl asks my partner if I’m married and she says yes and that I am a pastor and I smile. The girl gives an inconsequential shrug. A man walks by staring at the girl, she gets up, flirts, touches him, and then goes into the bar with him. You can’t look into this particular bar. This same routine happens over again with different women, and different kinds of men. Some men look old and nasty and are obviously drunk. Some look like young professionals. Maybe call center workers. The ladies have to pretend they are all attractive.

Another girl comes and sits with us. She just got on the street this week. A newbie. She is from the Province and she needs quick money for her children. She is very talkative to my partner and they have a good conversation.

An old decrepit van pulls up in front of us. A girl walks to the driver side window, talks for a while then leaves. Moments later another girl, one of the younger ones, opens the passenger side door and leans in for about 5 minutes. She shuts the door and the van takes off. And I don’t know what to feel other than sick.

Another lady from the ministry is talking to a worried looking lady that calls for her cousin who is carrying a child that looks about 2 years old. She swallowed borax acid and hasn’t eaten in weeks. This is the skinniest toddler I’ve ever seen not in a World Vision commercial. She is asking for help and the ladies are explaining how to get medical treatment and the mom keeps saying that she has tried everything but no one is helping. They pray for a miracle. One of the ladies tells me later that her adult friend died from ingesting that stuff.

And I’m sitting there listening to this mother’s dilemma, and seeing men come and go, and I absorb the dark sites and sounds and smells, and those stupid Christmas lights. And I can’t really believe I’m there. And I try to pray but it’s hard. I sit and say nothing, smile once in a while and do nothing. So I force myself to pray. I pray I don’t punch out the pimp hovering over me. I know I wouldn’t last a minute if I did. I pray for the child, for the sick lady, and the new lady. And I pray for the ministry. And I pray that I will do something to help this ministry. I don’t know what it is but I pray that I do something. I know that I need to do something.

I hear terribly sounding music blaring from inside the bar next to us and see images of women dancing seductively on the screen. Its videoke time!

To be continued.

Part I here.

Become an Action Figure

2011-08-18T03:47:00.000-07:00

My Bazooka is bigger than you.
Your argument has no chance.

I recently bought Aaven a couple of GI Joes. No, it wasn't because of my nostalgia of playing with Joes when I was kid. Although the fact that I spent more time with them than Aaven caused people named Carmi to disagree. I'll admit that it was super cool that I got him these action figures, and that I did take a few long moments to show Aaven how to fire their weapons and do flying side kicks. You can even make them breakdance. These Joes also came with rocket launchers. Press the button on their guns then get out the way because crazy stuff happens. Their arms and legs have an incredible range of motion and they are geared to the teeth. What you make them do is up to your imagination because they are full of action ready goodness.

Boring? I think not.

Now imagine you went to the toy store to get an action figure. And there was all this hype about a new one that supposedly really cared about helping people and changing the world. So you buy the thing, take it home, excited to see what this new toy can do. Then you open the package and realize that there are no moving parts. There are no buttons to press. Nothing flies out, lights up or makes a sound.

You dig deep into the package and realize that nothings there, just this little booklet with a list of opinions and beliefs. There are opinions about church government, gay marriage, inerrancy, predestination, women pastors, drinking, tattoos, free trade and global warming. But what the thing does, you can't figure out. Its written that it believes very deep and spiritual things, but you still see no evidence that it can do anything. You give it a chance, hoping, and watch it for some time, but nothing ever happens.

Too often I am like this boring anti-action figure. I may have beliefs, but so does everybody else. I may have beliefs, but if they don't inspire me to do anything then what are they really worth? I definitely have opinions, but wow, how does that make a difference? I can go on and on about what I think about Jesus and what is wrong with the world and what people should be doing about it and blah blah away about about the Church. But if I never get around to doing anything then I would rather shut up because I would just be misleading people with a confusing message. My words are, "I believe what Jesus says about love and injustice and the poor and the Great Commission" but my actions portray, "I don't really believe what Jesus says about love and injustice and the poor and the Great Commission."

I don't want to be a confusing inaction figure.

But I get distracted easily. I can work a lot, go shopping, eat fancy food, play sports, entertain myself and just jam-pack my schedule with stuff, which gives me the illusion that I'm an action figure. But deep down inside I know that I'm not. That my busyness is just a substitute for real Jesus-like, world-changing action.

Lets get on with the action. What that looks like for you will be different than the next person. But what counts, I think, is that we stop all of our busyness for a moment and ask God,

"what was I made for and meant to do?"

Then do it. No over thinking, no asking permission, no fearing failure.

Then people will see us and say, "back up, crazy stuff's gonna happen, get ready for action!"

A Night with Prostituted Women part I

2011-08-15T03:43:00.000-07:00

I never thought I’d dance with a room full of prostituted women.

Janelle and I made our way to a ministry that reaches out to prostituted persons to join their weekly outreach to one of the hot spots in Quezon City. We arrive early because I was expecting traffic, but there was very little of it. By arriving early we unintentionally stumble upon the ending of a bible study. There are about 25 women solemnly standing in a circle around a two-foot cross, surrounded by 3 candles on top of a beautiful scarf. One of the outreach directors tells us to join the ending prayer, which is really a dance.

Janelle jumps in, but one look into the room of women and I politely decline. I kind of want to join but I don’t know how appropriate it would be. So I wait in the reception room, but then I see him; there is another dude! I then convince myself it’s ok to join. So I step in the room and as inconspicuously as possible I make my way into the circle. The stares let me know that I wasn’t very inconspicuous. A little lady is explaining the meaning of the movements, and then mournful wedding music comes on. We hold hands, walk to the right eight paces, then face the center and walk forward. We raise our hands to the sky then back up slowly into a bow. We turn and walk to the left resting each other’s hands on the other’s shoulder, because we are not alone in the struggle. Then we repeat the humble somber movements several times.

After the dance we have merienda giving me the chance to converse with the other male, an Indonesian pastor. Half way through merienda I watch staff huddle around a lady clearly shaken. They pray for her loved one with dengue fever. After merienda we herd into a room with the Indonesian pastor, 3 ladies from a Bible school and some staff. We watch a video of the history of the ministry. A ministry that began with a few young women befriending a few bar girls, doing whatever they could to help them. They have been doing this for the last 20 years.

And those in the ministry have been through heartbreak, and disappointment. They have been threatened by pimps and bar owners. They were shut out of certain areas for years. The director told me that out of the 20 years of doing the once a week outreach that he can count on one hand the times he has felt good closure after a visit. But they continue to try to save the precious lives of these women that the rest of us ignore. They became heroes to me.

We learn that they help people get out of prostitution by training them in ways to make an income without selling their bodies. They minister to and train them for a number of months, then repeat the cycle with more persons that want out of the street. In this cycle they have almost 20 ladies. The most they’ve ever had. And I think that maybe at least 20 people become prostitutes everyday in metro Manila, maybe even just Quezon City. It’s amazing because this ministry will make an eternal difference in the lives of 20 women these next few months. But it’s devastating that they can’t make a dent in the big picture. And I ask where the rest of the Church is?

We learn that many Churches don’t really want to get involved in these kinds of ministries. Some may send money every so often, but real partnerships are very elusive. We learn that many Christians cannot get over the social barriers of hanging out with people they consider lower than themselves. We don’t need convincing of this as we just had a surprising conversation with a "higher-class" Christian leader we just met that said, “I hope I won’t have to minister to poor people.” Just one example of many that remind me that we Christians are still diseased with class structures and delusions of superiority. That we are so ignorant and so anti-gospel and so blind to our own blindness. And I feel angry at the Church when I hear about its neglect, then I feel so self-righteous and all my anger is turned loose on myself because I know that I am to blame too. After orientation we go back down for dinner, a humble spread of rice, baked chicken and two fish dishes. Delicious.

After dinner, the director leads a bible study for us. It was about Phillip leaving successful ministry to go to the desert, meeting an Ethiopian eunuch on the way. That the eunuch was unclean to Jews but that Phillip sat with him to explain the Scripture he was reading. Then the Ethiopian was baptized after believing the story of Jesus, because Phillip made the decision to break cultural and social and barriers and touch the unclean.

I relate to the story because sometimes I feel like coming to the Philippines was like leaving for the desert. And sometimes I think that just being in the Philippines is enough to convince myself that I am being a good servant. And it’s easy for me to ignore the eunuchs. The unclean. The prostituted person. Its easy for me to excuse myself from all this, to just continue with the ministry I’m comfortable with and justify my ignorance of the eunuchs. But I know that I can’t ignore them, because I claim to be a part of the body of Christ. I wonder what He would do if he were in Quezon City.

We listen to stories from prostituted women. My heart hurts. We are further prepped for the night, pray and unpack anything unnecessary, meaning anything worth stealing.

We stuff ourselves into an SUV and head off to a dark place. A very dark place. And bad things happen in dark places.

To be continued.

A Never-Ending Heartbreaking Work

2011-08-11T07:12:00.000-07:00

We'll be taking Janelle Musni around for about a week to different ministry places. Today we went to Christian Light Foundation where her and Carmi spent some time editing and printing their newsletter on an old and slow and cranky inkjet printer. I had Aaven for the day so we just walked around the grounds accepting any form of mini-adventure we could find. Mostly throwing sticks and squashing bugs.

In and out came mothers with small children to receive medical treatment from Doctor Mindy, a volunteer from Australia. They are openly breastfeeding, chasing after little ones, sometimes carrying 2 babies at a time. Some of the children are Aaven's age, but smaller. And Aaven is already kinda small. Some kids were very skinny. They often go hungry.

We asked one of the staff members named Vilma to take Janelle through South Seventeen, and she enthusiastically obliges. South Seventeen is an alleyway that is home to about 100 families of squatters, meaning they don't own the dwellings, they just decided to settled there at some point. This is the same alley Carmi and I explored a few months ago.

While walking there another staff member was telling me that just bit further there is another area they work in that recently had an epidemic of diarrhoea and other sicknesses because flooding ruined their water supply. CLF brought in water for them and they are just recovering from it. We didn't go there today, and I was a little relieved.

And we haven't been to this ministry in months, and its still the same. Its never ending. The mothers and hungry and sick children. The impoverished alleyways that have little help. The darn hopelessness that seems to hover over these communities. And the work and service that ministries like CLF continue to do. Day after day, year over year. Its a never-ending heartbreaking work of love.

Scary Fun Technohub

2011-08-08T08:05:00.000-07:00

It was such a struggle to get the Technohub Project beyond concept stage that now that we are up and running, it feels unusual. Can't explain why yet, maybe I'll understand later and let you know. What I can say is that it is exciting, in fun and scary ways. Its scary because there are a number of things that seem to be roadblocks to get to where we hope it can go. Its scary because what we have is loose and fragile that it can all go kaput before we get anywhere.

Its fun because we get to meet new and interesting people every week. And we also get some time to share our stories with each other. Its fun because we have non-Christians, Catholics, recovering backsliders, my-parent-aged people and theirs kids too. Its fun because we are in a coffee shop and people see us and wave and know we're there and they're going to ask what we're doing and we're going to tell them and they're going come.

And its fun because we have a blog and Twitter and facebook and make awesome videos like this:

And its fun because we are dreaming of what we can do. Infiltrate the call centers, train leaders to reproduce our Open Table discussions, creatively engage those wandering around the Hub, and form teams to do some random good deeds.

And its fun because of the scary things. Because we don't know what will work, who will show up, and what we will look like in a year. But we do know its amazing being in the middle of God working.

My Silly Smelly Shoes

2011-08-05T05:49:00.000-07:00

Warning: you'll run better and the smell may offend

Its been a bit heavy around here on the blog, so I thought I'd lighten things up and talk about my shoes. Now wait a moment before you click the back button, these are some pretty interesting shoes. And I promised some friends I'd review them once I ran a bit.

And I just realized that this story has a lot to do with my cousin Sam. An interesting person to say the least. A bit of a Mad Genius I'd say.

Before Apple was as omnipresent as it is now, I was in the market for a laptop. My cousin Sam wouldn't shut up about Mac's. So I got one. Then I started running, and he wouldn't stop going on about Nike+, which is a way log your running online. Really awesome. So I was flying through my runs with dreams of a marathon in the near future.

But after a year of fanatical running I had a serious knee injury and couldn't run more than a kilometre before shutting down from pain. Major disappointment. Every so often I would talk about running and people would say that my running form was probably wrong, and that I'm jarring my body by landing on my heels. But I didn't understand what they were saying. The marathon dream vanished.

Then a few months ago at Jeff's bachelor retreat, Sam had a pair of the funny shoes with no padding. So we talked, and he wouldn't stop blabbing about how they force you to run the natural way, the way our ancient ancestors ran, before Nike. They call it Barefoot Running, or with the Vibram FiveFingers we've got, Minimalist Running.

I've got sole

Basically, without padding on the sole of the shoe you are forced to land on the balls of your feet, or forefoot. Landing on your heels will be too painful. When you land on the forefoot the natural movement absorbs the shock, so your knees, and consequently your back, is saved from impact. Despite shoes with more technology than aircraft, God's technology in the natural foot is better. This is why marathon runners that grew up with no shoes dominate the records. With all the talk about orthotics and cushioning and arch support, this sounds hard to believe. But from my own personal experience, I can say this about the shoes:

1. They get stinky terribly fast. I've had comments like "what's that smell? I'm leaving!" and "Jon, I think someone left a dirty diaper in a pool of rancid water."

2. They are fun to wear, running or not. Its quite a sensation walking around the mall, on the sidewalk or on the grass. I now feel like a ninja, or a jungle cat stalking some prey.

3. No knee pain. I can now easily run 5km without knee pain. I can't run further yet because my calves aren't strong enough. They get super sore from the extra work of landing forefoot. But once those babies toughened up, I have nothing but hope. And I can't wait to make my Raw Hope list for next year, because I'm hoping to put a half marathon (26km) on there.

So now I'm sitting at my Mac on the Nike+ website uploading a run I did in my Vibram FiveFingers. Thanks Sam. I give them 5 stars.

Blessed Assurance?

2011-08-03T19:20:00.000-07:00

So, this is Carmi here and I want to discuss death. Plain and simple death. My lola just passed away last week. It was the first funeral I attended that belonged to a blood relative. My dad and aunt came to the Philippines from Canada to be with family this week and bury their mother. I am thankful that I was given the opportunity to already be in the Philippines and spend some time with my Lola when she was doing well, when she had fallen ill, and when she passed away.

There is a time for everything. If you’re reading this not to be morbid but one day you will pass on. One day you and everyone you know will no longer be on this earth. What can you say in death’s face? Do you have the blessed assurance that when that day comes, death will just be an entry into eternal bliss? Do you fear death or welcome it because you are assured you are saved, you know where your eternity lies, and long to be with your Heavenly Father? Do you know you have a heavenly Father? When those you love die around you, are you mourning your own loss or theirs? I think it’s far better to mourn our own loss, missing the presence of our loved ones, rather then fearing for their eternity, at least we know one day we will see them again.

There are two issues here. 1. Are you saved and 2. Are those you love saved? This is a topic I really have on my heart because I fear those I love may not have that blessed assurance. I’ve been to many funerals, almost all belonging to believers, the sadness is temporary because there is the joy of knowing the dead is really alive in Christ and that the mourning is not for them but for us because we will miss them while we are still on this earth. This is the first funeral I’ve attended that belonged to family, this is also one of the first funerals I’ve attended where I looked around and feared that if God were to call me home, I may never see those who were in that room again. I am assured of my salvation and I do not fear death for in death is eternal life. I am afraid that those I love may not share that assurance and that when life comes to an end, there may not be a joyous reunion in Heaven.

God has put us all in a particular place at this particular time. Maybe I’m in the Philippines at this time because I can now see the urgency of missions, not only in a ‘foreign land’ but also in my own personal life with those who share my name and my blood. If you’re reading this, maybe God needs you to feel the urgency of time. Time is limited, yours, mine, and those we love. I have to stop procrastinating and do what He needs me to do. If you are my family and you’re reading this, please know I love you and I am praying for you and there’s nothing more I desire than to know that I can share my life here on earth with you and hope that I can share eternity with you too. Please talk to me, ask me questions, and know that there is more to life than suffering and death, but there is a hope and an eternity beyond this.

My Lola is no longer on this earth, but we all are. When our time is done here, do we have the blessed assurance knowing where we will spend eternity and whom we will spend it with? When that day comes I will be with my Lord, will you join me?

Aaven Remembers Mama

2011-08-02T06:28:00.000-07:00

Carmi's Lola died last week. While there are many things I could write about in relation to death and dying, I don't think its my post to write right now. But I will mention that Aaven did something that shocked me, for a couple of reasons.

Several times, Aaven pointed to the casket that Carmi's Lola was in and said "Mama."

In case you are wondering, Aaven only uses "Mama" for my mom. It shocked me because I sometimes believe it impossible that Aaven can remember Mama. She died before he was 1 year old. I knew that he somewhat remembers her because when I show him pictures of her, he points and says "Mama." But I was thinking that its just because I've previously told him that the lady in the picture is called Mama. But now I am certain that he remembers her. And her funeral.

And I felt shock for another reason, but I don't know what that is. When he said it, my chest tightened and I felt numb to everything else.

I don't know why I'm writing this. Its painful. Maybe I'm glad that Aaven remembers her. Maybe I'm horrified that he remembers her in the casket. Maybe we should all keep in mind that babies are already masters at observing the world around them, and can remember.

Post About Prostitution

2011-08-01T00:17:00.000-07:00

via wikipedia

For some reason, I've been afraid to write about prostitution. I think mostly, I've been afraid that some readers might think that I write about it, just to write about it. Or that it is too touchy a subject that I might not handle with enough care. But maybe its time.

Last week I met with the director of a ministry to prostituted persons. They go out in teams late at night and build relationships with prostituted persons. They offer them a chance at building skills so they can earn money in a different way. They provide a safe place during the day, where they learn different trades, and are offered Bible studies and counselling. After 6-months, they are released to use their new job qualifications and walk away from prostitution. They are working towards a prostitution free society.

Something that surprised me was that when I asked where the hot spots in Quezon City are, he named a bunch of places I've been around. And it hits you that something like prostitution can be so close to home. That reminded me of a time before I left Canada, that I was having a conversation with my friend, who is also our realtor. He told me that some of the nice and newer buildings in our modest city Mississauga, have been raided by police busting down prostitution (and drug) rings. Same shock of learning that prostitution is everywhere, not just seedy downtown red-light districts.

Then yesterday, a suspicion of mine was confirmed. There is a guy in our building that we see often, usually with different women. He's a huge western guy, friendly, and we've had a few elevator conversations. By chance we had a talk with someone that knows of him, and without asking, we were told that he often uses prostitutes, the young women we ride in elevators with. Sometimes more than one at a time. And he's not the only person in our building and surrounding neighbourhood, foreigner or local, that take advantage of the poverty or imprisonment of others for their personal pleasure.

How do we tackle an issue so big, and prevalent like prostitution? How do we minister to those so vulnerable? They are so vulnerable that the clothes they shed are only the beginning of what they are giving up. Can we ignore it, understanding that we are the Church and that its on our watch that this is flourishing?

I recently read a tweet "that behind every great quest lies a great question."

So I ask myself and others: What can you do about it?

Maybe I can join an outreach. Maybe I can raise awareness and advocate. Maybe I can raise money for ministries that fight against it. Maybe I can write about it, hoping someone will be influenced to join the cause.

Hanging Out with Fire

2011-07-27T02:05:00.000-07:00

P. Alex getting out of bed in the morning

A few days ago I was hanging out with the Edwin Samson, teammate with me on the Technohub Project. We talked about life, our struggles, the past and of course the Technohub Church plant. So the thing about Edwin is this; he makes me feel lukewarm.

And I loathe feeling lukewarm. So I love sitting and talking with the volcanic Edwin.

Huh?

You see, when someone makes me feel lukewarm, I get motivated to not be so lukewarm, because I hate it. So when I'm hanging out with someone that's burning up, I'm automatically challenged to step up my game. Iron sharpens iron. When I leave these people I feel excited, hopeful and so ready to attack something, anything.

I love building relationships and hanging around all sorts of people. Some are family, some are old friends and some are super funny. And I really like funny things. But hanging out with people that challenge me gets me to a unique kind of excited. I've realized that this is why I keep working with people like the firestorm called Pastor Alex, who is always on the brink of chaos, never knowing what exciting endeavour is coming next. And I don't need to mention the massive inferno that is Bishop Ef Tendero, who never ceases to floor me his nuclear personal stories. And I have a mental list of dozens of others that carry around a flame, calling out to me, reminding me to live a passionate life. There is a fire these people have that attract me like a bug to light, that make me feel like I should be on fire too.

Let's grab a milkshake and talk Church plantning

The principle is this: You become like the people you surround yourself with. If you hang out with a bunch of clowns, you will be one as well. If you are getting a steady diet of negativity, laziness and procrastination, it will rub off and on to you. If you hang out with a league of interesting adventurers, motivated, risk-taking, forward thinking and hopeful people, then you will become as they are.

This is why I love hanging around people that challenge and push me. People that are doing interesting and meaningful things. This is why I allow certain people to lead and influence me, and why I seek advice from them, or just want to listen to their history of very epic tales of awesomeness. This is why I read blogs, biographies or books written by authors aflame, and documentaries of bomb dropping persons.

If you are feeling uninspired and unmotivated, check who you are hanging out with, which books you are reading and what you are watching. Maybe you need a refreshing wake-up slap. If there is no one and nothing there to challenge you, find someone on fire and hang out. Join a group that does fiery stuff. Join a heartbreaking cause that you can get sparked up about, because these causes also attract interesting people. Read a blog about having red-hot, steaming, Raw Hope =). Like this one: Open Table Blog

Living the Caffeinated Dream

2011-07-25T04:32:00.000-07:00

So the last book I've read, The Forgotten Ways, has me dreaming of opening a coffee in Canada when we come back. The book planted this idea in me through a chapter on being a missional-incarnational Church, which happens when a Church "become all things to all men that by all means they might win some." The shop would be "proximity space" which is a venue that is a part of the community that is not a Church, but a neutral setting for the Christian and "non" alike. It would be an artsy, feel good type of shop, environmentally friendly and a percentage of the profits (assuming there would be any) would go to charity.

The point is to be in the community, add value to it, build relationships, and provide a space for people to interact with Christians in a non-threatening environment. We will have community friendly events in and through the shop, like running coffee over to local hospital for free, and garbage pick-up walks through the park. We will have nights with small bands, poetry, and if we can squeeze it in there, a drama or two. We will encourage small group Bible studies to meet there when they have the intent of inviting friends that will not go to a Church, or even a Church-members home. While we won't necessarily meet as a congregation in the shop, we will plant a Church with the shop being the "in" into the community the Church is.

Quite a nice dream right?

Rollin 20 deep packing Scriptures

But you know what's awesome? With the Technohub Project, we are pretty much living that dream. We meet in a place called the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, which is surrounded by other shops and restaurants. Last week over 20 people show up and they allowed us, like every week so far, to stay as long as we like, and only a few of us ever buy anything. They even turn the music down for us so we can talk and pray. In fact, the lady running the shop on Saturdays is interested in coming to one of our studies during the week.

Its our hope and prayer that we will be able to use this favor of being able to have a presence in such a proximity space, that gives us an "in" into the community, to share Jesus to many. We hope to pass on this incarnational approach to other young adult groups throughout the city, creating a movement of Christians not afraid to get out from behind their Church walls and into the meeting hubs of the people.

Back In the Philippines + I love my Family

2011-07-22T01:42:00.000-07:00

My Inner Communitas

So something strange happened these last few hours, right after we arrived in the Philippines. I became super emotional about my wife, son and amniotic fluid-breathing-baby. Strange because it was uncontrollable. I felt extreme affection towards them. I wanted to follow them everywhere they went around the house. Fortunately its not hard because our home is so small. I wanted to hug them. Even when we were busy doing stuff, I would stop and hug them and tell them how much I love them. I even felt like crying because I felt so in love with them.

I was thinking that I was feeling emotional because it is an emotional time, leaving Canada again and all. Or that I was emotionally unstable because we just went through 24 hours of airplanes and ports. With a Toddler. Or just because I was tired and out-of-whack, whatever that means.

But just now I read a chapter of a book that has really affected me: The Forgotten Ways by Alan Hirsch. Its a book on how the Western Church must become more missional. I'll probably share more ideas from this book later on.

Anyways, the chapter was on community vs communitas. Basically, I'll describe communitas is a fancy word to mean a group of people bound together by common values, vision and mission, usually one that involves risk, danger and is usually exciting. The point is that communitas is better than community because it builds stronger bonds, necessarily, in order to accomplish the mission, creates equality between classes, and does more good stuff. Community is similar and good too, but doesn't do very much and therefore doesn't need to bond as fiercely (to those who understand these concepts much more than I: good for you and please forgive my crude explanation).

In order to produce this deeper communitas the group needs to be experiencing chaos, challenges, and on mission. Abraham's clan leaving their homeland, David and his famous warriors, the Jews in Babylon, Jesus and the disciples and the early Church including Paul are Biblical examples of community on mission, producing the deeper communitas.

All this fancy talk that I can't explain well is leading to the idea that all the emotions I felt towards my wife and kids, born and not-so-born, are a result from the deeper bond of communitas. We are back on mission, facing a bit of chaos, a lot of challenges, and its all very exciting. And I felt like we were more of a team, and that we bonded even closer during our good-byes and travels, looking into the future with the hopes of safely birthing another teammate and planting a Church/movement, while doing all the good we can. Maybe this is why all the emotion, so I'm thinking "what ridiculous timing in reading that chapter." Or maybe I'm feeling clingy because we just left everything else at Hotel Canada. I'm not sure.

But what I do know is that when my family is on mission (whether in Canada or abroad), taking part in a challenging and really good story, our marriage gets even better. And I like being a Dad even more.

And beyond our family, when we have friends on chaotic mission, it makes our friendships more interesting too. And we like hanging out with interesting people.

Do you need more communitas in your life? Pick a fight, and find some teammates. But don't worry, if you join us here, I won't follow you around the house.

How to Enjoy a 13 hour Flight with a Toddler?

2011-07-21T00:16:00.000-07:00

You tell me.

All Systems Go

2011-07-15T09:31:00.000-07:00

Must learn travel hacking and get on some these
bad boys for free

Its been a nice return to home-base these last few weeks, but its soon time to go back to our new reality in Quezon City. I thought it would be harder to leave this time around than the first, but I don't think its the case because we feel that the Lord solidified our calling to be in the Philippines.

Let's Go everybody!

Something pretty cool has happened while here. I met with 3 young men from my home Church (Church in the One) that were thinking about missions before we left, but now are set on joining us in the Philippines for different sets of time. One is planning to come fairly soon and stay for about 3 months (then maybe extend for longer). Another is set to come early next year and stay until he finds a way to Thailand or Japan for the long haul. A third crazy person is planning for summer of next year, for a few months. Maybe all the plans fail, maybe they all become career missionaries. Whatever the outcome, right now all have taken the scary and awesome step of committing to obey what they feel God has placed in their hearts. All three came to know Jesus at Church in the One.

And if the Church we planted leaves a legacy of sending missionaries, then I am honoured to be a part of that. On top of that, we have a young lady from another Church we've always been close with join us for just over a week soon after we get back to the Philippines. And even though they are not joining us in our work, we have had the privilege of sharing with and encouraging a few others destined for missionary work.

Missions in Canada a Go

We have also been able to preach at a couple of Churches and give short reports at others. When I have had discussions with people about the sermon or just because the subject came up, there seemed to be a theme of where our conversations went. We kept talking about how the Church in Canada needs to be more missional. Not meaning they need to send and support more overseas missionaries, but to approach ministry in Canada as missions, and themselves as missionaries.

We talked of how the contemporary Church has limitations in attracting those uninterested in Church, and that new paths needs to be attempted. And we discussed many ideas on how to reach the unreached sub-cultures of Canada. And even though I am not in Canada presently, I am eager to see really cool networks of forward-thinkers engage this issue and plant missional Churches.

We Go because You Send

Not everyone can go in the traditional missionarial way. But many can send. And we have been humbled and blessed once again by people that are just as and maybe even more passionate about missions than we are, and play their part in sending. Carmi had a conversation with a dear friend that is planning to become a missionary, and she told us that while she can't go at the moment, she is going to increase her financial support for us. She really has a heart for missions.

Talking to many people that support us in different ways, we have been so encouraged, especially when they say that we've encouraged them. How awesome is that? And while we didn't do very well in adding financial support during this trip, we have been reassured by like-minded missional people that we are prayed for and thought of. We are ready to jump into the big sky again, land on the Islands to learn, grow and experience. And while we're there, few gates of Hades will be laid to waste.

But first we have to pack, again.

Thinking About This Girl

2011-07-13T06:28:00.000-07:00

The dress she will come out the womb in

But for a few exceptions, I can't really think of God not answering a big personal prayer of mine. I've prayed for a lot things, and while I completely understand that God is no cosmic vending machine, He seems inclined to answer most of the prayers I really want positively. I'm not complaining.

So when Carmi and I prayed something along the lines of, "Lord please give us a girl, but another boy is great too" I had a small but real anticipation of soon hearing, "Its a girl" from a lady in a dark room with a black and white screen showing alien-like images of our skinny en-wombed creature.

Well, that almost just happened. The ultrasound technician basically said that baby was hiding the goods, but if she had to guess, she would wager that its a girl. I didn't know what to feel because it seemed a bit anti-climactic to tell us she only thinks its a girl. So I felt happy, but unsettled. After a while, I let myself believe it a bit. Then I got scared.

I don't know how to raise a girl. Because I'm male, and helped to bring up my two nephews, I felt a smidget of confidence to raise a boy. But a girl? Its a whole different ball game. Or should I say tea-party?

Did I mention I'm scared. I've been on this whole thing about not living scared. I've been telling people to face their fears and deal with them. That failure is OK because it means you actually got off the bench and tried. A water bottle I got Carmi a while back had written on it, "do something once a day that scares you." I never forgot it because I needed to hear it. Its good advice. Now whenever I feel scared, I stop and think about why I'm scared, give myself a self-talk equivalent to kicking my own butt, say a quick prayer and jump in. I try to anyway.

But the thing is, I don't love the things I'm scared of. They are usually unimportant like talking to someone, taking on a project, pushing through on a decision or pushing myself physically.

I love my daughter. I love her so much and she can't even breathe air yet. After we were told its most likely a girl, I began to have realistic daydreams of her once sprung from the belly. And my heart felt pain from my love for her. The good kind of pain.

I am so crazy (about her) that I imagined her wedding. And my heart felt pain at the thought of giving my baby girl away. The bad kind of pain. And I am terrified that she has this much affect on me though I've never met her.

I'm afraid that she will make bad decisions and get hurt. I am afraid that she won't find meaning in life and chase after the wrong things. I am afraid of how beautiful she will be and the attention she will attract. I am afraid she will want to wear short-shorts. I am afraid that I will be over-protective and push her away. I'm afraid I will get so busy that I neglect her and break her heart. I am afraid of failing as her father.

And my fear is real because even though I and others prayed, the Lord didn't cure Mama's cancer. What I mean is that none of us are spared from pain. The fear of bringing my girl into this broken world is real.

But Jesus said, "love drives out all fear."

While my fear stems from my love, I hope I can focus on the love. When she first holds my hand and smiles. When she learns to walk, into my arms. When she first says "I love you Daddy." When she accomplishes something and looks to see how proud I am. When she finds the perfect man and I feel sure of letting her go. When she mentions me in her wedding thank you speech. When she has her own children.

When I think of the good, the risk becomes worth it. And because the risk is worth it, I feel ready to engage my fear, with passion and hope. I can assure her that because I had a part in bringing her into this world, that I will help bring her through it as well. And that we will create amazing memories along the way. And in the big picture, she is God's child first and foremost, so I know He will be with her.

And hey, it might be another boy after all.

The Very Worst Best Man

2011-07-10T22:51:00.000-07:00

Our giant rental tuxes at my wedding

Its pretty fun being called the best man. But boy is there a lot of pressure. Especially when the groom is Mr. Jeff D. You see, Jeff was my best man at my wedding and he was awesome from the beginning of the engagement to last moments of the wedding reception. He helped me, took care of a lot things and put together une magnifique bachelor trip. And I won't mention how much coin he had to drop to cover all these things, then a wedding gift on top.

So when Jeff asked me to be his best man, I was honoured, then horrified that I would stink rotten as the best man. So here is how I became the very worst best man:

Firstly, I missed every engagement party and wedding shower Jeff and Karol had. I would have gone to each one, but I wasn't sure if anyone would be willing to pick me up, and I have yet to take my pilot test and buy a plane.

Secondly, I took no part in the wedding planning or the execution of those plans. Even if I was in the country and ready to help, truthfully, Jeff is much better at planning things than I am, more organized and efficient. He wouldn't need me. Even back in the day, whatever we would be doing, Jeff was the mastermind behind it all. The rest of us followed. His plans were always better.

Third, the cheque-book is tucked away and I've forgotten where I've put it and I don't care because its useless. In other words, I was unable to help, even in token, financially. In fact, Jeff paid for a significant groomsman cost for me and got all us groomsman awesome gifts. He didn't have have to, but he did. Generous is who he is.

Fourthly, I forgot half my best-man speech, the part that made sense of my earlier character assassination. And I am sure that there is more that I just didn't figure out I was supposed to do.

So all-in-all I was not able to come close to reciprocating all the amazing best-manliness Jeff portrayed during my engagement and wedding. Jeff is definitely the better man in so many ways.

And I apologized often.

And Jeff kept telling me that although I couldn't do all the things a best man should, that I was still an awesome best man. And he would encourage me in my best-man-ing, seemingly forgiving me for the things I was not able to do, and when I told him I forgot parts of my speech.

God is like Jeff D.

Hold on before you call me a heretic and out of my skull. You see, I cannot reciprocate anything that God does for me. I can't give Him anything that He couldn't get or do Himself. I can't give Him advice, make better plans or handle His business. And I fail Him. And I forget parts of my speech I am supposed to say to others about His son. He does everything for me but I can't do much for Him.

Yet He still wants me as His "best man". He says that its OK that I can't do much for Him, because what matters is the relationship. And He continues to give to me even though He knows that I can't give anything back. Even though He doesn't need me, He stills lets me come along for the ride.

I guess it would be more appropriate to say that Jeff is like God, or that Jeff is doing well in his quest to be more like Him in character. And I love them both because they would allow the very worst, to be the best in their eyes.

2 Done on the Raw Hope List (sort of)

2011-07-04T21:44:00.000-07:00

I have been working and planning on completing a couple of challenges on the Raw Hope list, and I was able to (sort of) complete 2 of them recently. The first is visiting another Asian country, which we did: Indonesia. This was for the World Team Asia area conference. It was nice checking that off the list, but I say, "thank you sir, may I have another?" So I'm going to add another country to the list. Don't know which one and we don't have any plans or money, so it'll be fun to see if something comes up.

The other one I've modified, because I guess we surpassed the original challenge, which was to swim in the South China Sea. But I've swam in the South China Sea on several different trips to the Philippines, just not since we moved here. But while in Bali we swam in the Indian Ocean. A pretty nice Ocean they got going on there. I'm still keeping the South China Sea on, but seeing as how were have been on the Islands for half a year and haven't been to a clean or swimmable beach, it seem like this will be harder to check off than I thought.

Thinking of my list also got me thinking of some of the reasons as to why I created it in the first place, including some of its seemingly trivial goals. Its to remind myself to live intentionally and take some risks. Which brings me to a conversation I had with some of my Canuck friends standing around in the dark on my driveway late at night.

We were talking about how to be a missional Church. Not one that cares about missions out "there" overseas, but one that does missions right where it is. And I think we landed on a common theme as to why it is so difficult for our Church(es) to be intentional about getting missional. Because we are so darn scared to do anything risky. We become defensive about what we like about Church and the Church culture we've created, and expect the unchurched to fit in with us. We get so busy pleasing people in the Church that we don't have enough time to reach outside the Church.

So we don't try anything new, except tweak the old stuff we got, then hope we are attractive enough that some unbelievers come in and get impressed by all our churchy-ness.

I'm not saying I have the answers to build a super-effective missional Church here in Canada. But I am saying that I think we should try things, take risks and explore new paths. Then maybe we might stumble upon what will work. What will be effective in reaching those that are not attracted to our contemporary Churchy-ness. But in order to try new things, we have to get intentional about doing so. To take risks means we have to get over our fear of failure, struggles, and well, pain.

Which brings me back to the list. If I make a list, and plans to accomplish what's on it, then I am on my way to living a more intentional life. And If I can get a few things on there that scare me or seem near impossible or improbable, then I am on my way to being less of the coward that I am. At the end of the year I might not be able to complete everything on the list, but I am ok with that too. But I am no longer ok with letting life pass by, or always being scared. Its no fun. There is no adventure. No story.

The Bible tells a great, epic story; God's story. And I want in. And I think that God uses broken, helpless, "chief-of-sinner", outcast type people. Which means I have a chance to get in on the story. And I don't want to miss it by being passive and scared. Do you have your list yet?

Not by Sight

2011-06-28T14:33:00.000-07:00

A friend asked me, "so have you had a "what did I get myself into" moment?" I smiled before answering because I have asked myself that question almost without ceasing these last few months.

I hate letting go of control. To feel that I am not able to manipulate circumstances to what I want, or being in a poor position to predict the outcome of a decision or action. It feels unsafe. Foolish.

So when I think about what Carmi and I did a few months ago, letting go of our predictable life-plan, I get them; those "what did we get ourselves into" moments.

Because before, I could give you a pretty good description of where I thought we would be 5 years from whenever you asked. Now, I'll give you a smile. Probably worth as much as my best guess.

And I don't even know if we are committed enough with so much still invested in Canada. And I don't know if we should be even more invested in Canada because we are planning to come back.

And I don't know exactly what I would even do if we did come back. And if we didn't come back then I would ask: what exactly would I even do?

And I don't know if I would prefer to do missions in Canada where I think I am more effective, or if I want to follow the pull of adventurous overseas work.

And I don't know if thinking about my family's welfare makes me a better husband and father, or dilutes the sacrificial call of laying down our lives for the gospel.

I just don't know.

A part of me hopes the Lord calls us back to where we came from. A part of me hopes He leads us further out from shore. All of me wants to follow where God leads - I'm sure of that.

But it seems for us that following God means choosing to give up the ability to live by sight.

So I'm talking to my friend about all the things we don't know, then our conversation gets cut off. As we walk away he says, "so we actually have to live by faith huh, who would'a thought?"

What a crazy idea.

Catch up Post

2011-06-25T21:06:00.000-07:00

I am fairly behind in the blogging department. So much I want to write about, but we'll do with a clumped up summary:

Bali Conference

Needed. That word sums up what the conference was to us. I am not entirely sure why we needed it so bad, and I wouldn't even be able to pinpoint what the best thing was about it. But after the first day we had a feeling that we were there for a reason, and by the end we were certain.

I also want to mention the heroes of the conference for us, the team from Tychicus Ministries. Basically, what they do is take your children that are too attached to their mother and anti-social, then transform them all the while you get blessed by a conference. Before the conference, we were thinking "they (Tychicus) are probably very good at what they do, but not good enough for Aaven, who will be handed back to us within a few ear-shattering minutes." But for a week, through the bad (especially the first 2 days) and the good, they dedicated themselves to caring for Aaven so we can participate.

Ultimately, we left Bali with encouraged hearts and a couple of good ideas:

A) We need new blood on the mission fields
B) We are a part of and supported by many awesome missionaries and encouraging Christians
C) Continue taking risks that may end up in failure
D) It would be awesome if that kite we bought actually flew

Travelling back to Canada

We left Indonesia on a flight that was delayed for over an hour, to Malaysia. Then from Malaysia to the Philippines which is the flight where they lost our stroller. We were in Quezon City for a day then it was off to Canada, with a stopover in Korea. What to do when the airline loses your stroller:

Overall the travel wasn't too bad, but on the Incheon-Toronto leg (13 hrs) Aaven had a meltdown for the last 4 hours, which was also the time everyone was trying to sleep. Our Dads were waiting at the airport, mainly for Aaven. When we arrived home I almost cried. Don't know why really, other than a mini flood of memories of the old life. Tired too. After a short 3 hours, I had to get ready for another 5 hour trip to Ottawa, because. . .

Bachelor Retreat

We ate a Grizzly Bear for dinner

I can't believe he's finally getting married. I've been a fairly useless best man, but I was able to help plan Jeff's bachelor getaway from the Philippines. After debating the different options we figured the most manly thing we can do is avoid drowning in a river. So a few moments after arriving in the country I was off again for a long drive, although it was more like teleportation for me. I closed my eyes and then we were there. Sweet.

There are some really cool spiritual associations with rafting, but I'll save that for another post.

That's me in the red, single-handedly rowing my team to safety

Raging water ain't nothing but a thang

Canadiana

After coming back from Ottawa, and Carmi from Niagara, we had some time settle in a little. Our families welcomed us back, we've had some visitors and catching up. Had a CPMI pastor's meeting to get brought up to speed to the happenings in our Church movement here. We've enjoyed some food and restaurants we've missed and even caught a movie! Had a few wedding-related duties and a lot of prep for upcoming reports and speaking engagements to different groups and Churches. On Friday we spoke at our CPMI youth gathering about missions, which was awesome! And today we had Mateo's dedication ceremony at our place.

Our calendar is rammed for the next few weeks here in Canada, and I know that it will be hard to leave again in July. Our family and friends make it hard for us to leave. But we are also growing to love the Philippines. Not a sentimental or pleasurable kind of affection, but a love that stems from the fact that Jesus is leading us there. And we want to be where our Saviour leads us. Where he wants us to be right now.

The kite from Bali does fly

Thank you Papa

2011-06-21T04:56:00.000-07:00

Church outing at Rattlesnake Point 2010

In my life story, no human has been more influential than my father. If I imagine myself walking through a timeline of my life before I got married, I see myself walking with my Dad. Now that I am married and a father too, no matter where I am, my heart gravitates towards Papa. He pulls me back to who I am. He is the "where" when I am reminded of where I come from. Now that Mama is gone, he is my link to my childhood, and to her.

When I am delighting in and adoring Aaven, I can imagine my own father delighting in and adoring me as a child. When I think of Aaven as being a part of me, taking my heart and putting it in his chest, I think of myself as son to my father, carrying his heart in my body, so emotionally attached. Wait, its far deeper than emotions.

Papa put me in many sports. And he pushed me. He didn't let me settle. He didn't let me lose. When I did lose, he didn't let me whine about it. He picked me up and help me get better. And made it darn fun too. He showed me a challenge, and made me believe I could conquer it. When challenges come my way, if I muster enough courage to take it on, its because my father made me believe I could. He showed me I could. And if I fail, I'm OK with that too, because Papa would celebrate the fact that I got the heck up and stepped up to the plate in the first place.

He showed me how to laugh and sing in the face of disaster and absurdity. He showed me how to face and endure pain, grind teeth, buckle down and push forward. Explained to me that the world is a tough place, and how to crash through it, persevering, never quitting, long-suffering. He taught me how be tough when I needed, to stand up for myself and even get into a good fight on occasion. That money will not bring happiness, but that I better be wise with what I got. He taught me how to forgive, build, create, plant, the importance of a winsome smile, and having good comedic timing.

He taught me how to love my wife. He loved his, and never let me speak disrespectfully to her. Other than introducing me to Jesus, this is greatest gift he gave me; my parents had a beautiful marriage.

And even though my family is wild and wooly, he taught by example how to love it.

He taught me that I will be nothing without Jesus. That no amount of hubris, strength, success, ability, courage, or oozing machismo will matter without knowing the perfect man, Jesus. That the substance of the inner life will be what gets me through the outer stuff.

And today, choosing to still love us and our kids. To still be the one to help, fix and when needed, kick us in the pants. For painting on a smile, trying to fake it, hiding his loss, for our sake.

Thanks Papa. Let's build go something.

A Month in Pictures May - June

2011-06-15T02:33:00.000-07:00

Brainstorming session for the TechnoHub Project
The name for our Church is now The Open Table

Casting some vision for The Open Table

Hanging out at the Coffee Bean trying
to find morning-sickness appropriate food

Aaven in Bali, Indonesia

On our day off from the conference we hung out at the beach

On the boardwalk

Sharing how the Lord has blessed us during the conference

World Team Philippines (some missing)
and some of World Team's leadership

The World Team Asia Area Family

World Team's International director David Riddell
casting vision for the future

Carmi gaining wisdom during the conference

Temple in Bali

Temple gate

Prayers and offerings

Market stalls

Church with 100 Missionaries

2011-06-12T08:45:00.000-07:00

Carmi pretending to not think
about her husband

Today we went to Church and had communion with 100 missionaries, pastors, and those interested enough in missions to come to all the way to Bali for World Team's Asia Area Conference. Being surrounded by such...I don't know how to describe it...godliness maybe, made this Church service surreal. It was a normal service, had powerpoint glitches and everything, but I was like "so what do you preach to a 100 missionaries?"

Obedience.

Really? Aren't missionaries the epitome of obedience? Aren't they used in sermons as examples of undiluted and surrendered obedience? Not necessarily says our preacher who was once a doctor in Canada, who shut down his practice to mission in Cambodia.

He explains that we can get used to thinking that getting people saved is the main goal. But as seen in Jesus' life, the main goal is obedience (Mt 26:42, John 6:38). While sharing the Good News is an aspect of obedience, it is only one aspect. He challenged a room of missionaries to check their obedience level.

I know what he's talking about. Carmi and I made a step of faith to get ourselves to the Philippines to tell people about Jesus, plant a Church and help a movement. But that was only one step. Every day we are given opportunities to obey or not. Even in the little things. Public or personal. In our marriages and families. In the hidden things.

And there was conviction in the room. Full of missionaries. Because missionaries are normal people too. Well, I try to be anyway.

The Especially Worst Missionary

2011-06-11T07:47:00.000-07:00

The especially worst missionaries
love each other especially best

So we're in Bali, Indonesia for a week for World Team's Asia Area conferences. Truthfully, even though its a trip to beautiful Bali, I was hesitant to attend, for a number of reasons. But through a few happenings we just took the plunge and got on the plane.

One of the reasons why I didn't want to go is because I am the especially worst missionary. Basically, I had the feeling I would be a misfit among missionary folk suffering through a week of being constantly reminded that I am the especially worst missionary.

You see, at the conference I am surrounded by many important people called "director of...", and they do all sorts of important things, and my help is never needed. I don't have a fancy acronym attached to my name, and I don't hold any special or strategic role within the agency. Stories of new missionaries and their adjustment problems (similar to ours) have been giggled at by the veterans. Granted, some stories are funny. Carmi and I are called mid-termers, because we signed up for less than the number of years of those more committed. I've learnt that for the first two years most missionaries are primarily expected to learn language and not much else. I didn't want to focus on language but instead spend the two years planting an English speaking Church. Now sometimes when I tell people that I am not doing focused language learning they are surprised because it deviates from the norm. I've been told that the real challenges are in the jungles and provinces, but I'm just planting a Church in the city. In the short few months getting on the field and being on the field, I have made rookie mistakes I'm supposed to know to avoid. I just wanted to help plant a Church in the Philippines, but by learning about all these expectations I've realized that I am the especially worst missionary.

But something really cool has happened in this conference. I've realized that some of the super-missionaries, like us are especially worst ones. Its been really cool because we have been able to share our struggles and failures, with honesty. Some failure stories, not belonging to me, are epic, reminding me that everyone fails at times. Carmi has been very blessed this week because of the amazing child-care so she can concentrate on the conference. Often we can honestly ask real questions and get real and honest answers. They don't automatically try to fix me and they genuinely listen. I don't feel the need to use holy catchphrases and I don't need to impress them with stories that prove that I am missionary enough. With them I can just be me, and feel that its OK to be me, and a missionary. Phew, what a relief!

Although this conference has been a challenge to me with fitting into missionary's culture, learning its dialects, and how to not offend the established norms, it has been a blessing and learning experience. Because I've seen that maybe there is room for an especially worst missionary. That maybe a goofball like me can tag along the big boys and girls and have a small part to play. And maybe I can convince other potential especially worst missionaries, that although they may be young, and not the perceived "missionary" type, that they too can serve Jesus in a foreign field. And maybe there is a potential movement of younger, especially worst missionaries, that may stumble along, make mistakes, break new ground and barriers, pushing beyond the boxes, creating and innovating, with the audacious hope of sharing Jesus' love. I think he would like that.

4 Year Old Marriage

2011-06-08T08:44:00.000-07:00

"If you wear a white tie, it won't show up in pictures"
did I listen?

Carmi and I have our failures and weaknesses as human ma'beings. Myself more than her of course. We are deeply flawed and stained with sin. We can be selfish and stubborn, sensitive and hurtful. Then we bring it all into our marriage, and voila! holy matrimony they call it.

We are a mess of jumbled and confused emotions, paradoxical desires and opposing wills. I have one idea of how our life should be, and she of course has a better one. Then we have nice marital conversations about it. I want it one way, she pulls away. She journeys towards her heart's desires and I sit still. When our wills and desires align, we reach honeymoon-like bliss.

Someone once told me that marriage is about two people walking side-by-side, following the Lord. A little cheesy sounding after 4 years, but there is something cool in that. Carmi and I made a 5 year plan, starting after the nuptials. Where we will live, when we would have kids, how much money in the bank, how much we paid off the mortgage, how many and what kind of cars we will drive, which hobbies we will be into, and so forth. It was a beautiful middle-class, safe and secure 5-year roadmap. Year one went accordingly. Most of year two; half decent. But near the end of the year, we threw everything out the window. We wanted a baby that was not included in the plan yet, which would be the first in a series of events that make us look back and laugh at our previously infallible goals.

I think God got a hold of us, then made us voluntarily exile ourselves from a land we love for a while, with no guarantee it will all work out nicely. The financial plan became "just survive". The ministry is tough and emotionally draining, just like in Canada, but now with no fringe benefits. We take it day by day and have no endgame for when we leave.

Together. Me and my wife. My best friend, her and I. We are in this together. We are not on the wildest of adventures, but we are on our adventure. And I love her for making life feel like an adventure. I love her because she has the power to both make me happy, and undo me, by the most simple of words or actions. Because she rescues me in my dark hours and stays in my corner when no one else is, even if I am wrong. Because when I am wrong she is gracious enough to allow me to laugh at myself. Because she needs me enough that I have the opportunity to become a better husband. Because she gave me a son that I adore, and changes most of his diapers.

We made a plan, but the Lord showed us that His are better. He showed us that marriage isn't sitting around and staring at each other, but walking together, towards Him. I love her because she holds my hand as we follow Jesus, together. Often looking at each other with looks of concern, relief, amusement and wonder. Little smiles, of which only her and I know why, and of course the Lord, who put us two ridiculous creatures together.

The Ride to Conquer Cancer

2011-06-04T05:39:00.000-07:00

This a post from a previous blog about biking in the Ride to Conquer Cancer, last June. It was one the ~~greatest epic funnest most meaningful~~ awesome things I've been a part of. The 2011 ride will occur soon and wish I could ride again. I plan to one day do the Ride in Vancouver. Maybe doing the Ride or something similar can go on your Raw Hope List.

TUESDAY, JUNE 15, 2010:

Carrying my bike named Fair Verona

This year I was able to raise $2,500. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, especially when you think about the cost of running a research hospital like the Princess Margaret. Our team was able to collectively raise $15,000, not bad for the five of us, which I’m sure is a significant amount to be helpful. But the theme of this year’s ride was “Strength in Numbers” and 4,800 riders were able to raise about $16,800,000.00. That’s right, sixteen point eight million dollars.

The night before the ride I was pretty excited and a little scared. I was anticipating a lot of pain and suffering. Honestly speaking, there was more pain and suffering than I thought. The ride was more difficult than I imagined. There were some points where I was extremely discouraged, mostly on the first day, thinking about the next day. I had to stop myself from thinking about the next day and just focus on the moment I was in. When I was able to do that, it was quite enjoyable, sometimes. What helped to keep me going were the people cheering. They would shout out “thank you for riding”, “great job” and “keep going, you’re almost there!”. The cheers helped more than they probably knew.

What I was not prepared for (among other things) were the hills. When I got a chance to train I just rode around with no goal, mostly avoiding hills. But the first day of the ride not only had killer hills, but the last leg of the day was one big mountain! Add on to that the rain, the cars and other riders splashing you in the face. By the end of day I really wasn’t sure if was would even be able to walk the next day. Now more about being unprepared, guess who forgot to bring a towel, sleeping bag and extra shoes? So at night I slept on a borrowed towel, used some extra shirts for a pillow and covered myself with a small throw blanket. I slept like a baby.

The next morning, to my surprise, I could walk. After breakfast we prepared our bikes and started off. Unfortunately I started off by myself because I lost my team after a water-refill fiasco. I thought they left me but it turned out that I left them, as they waited for me to show up at their make-believe starting line. Their fault. Amazingly, I wasn’t doing too bad, other than the fact that my butt felt like I got spanked with a wrecking ball. After the first stop I meet up with my team and we continued on together, encouraging (and sometimes making fun of) each other.

Team More Than Conquerors
Resnik, Lil'Kev, Sars, Joe, Romeo of Verona

The last leg (20KM) was unreal. It was hard to believe that it was almost over. With about 10KM left, my right knee blew. It was the same running injury that has made me quit running ever since. But truthfully I was surprised to last as long as I did with my knees. Every pedal stroke hurt. But the line was so close so I kept pedaling, mostly with my left knee (which was also giving me problems the whole ride). I drafted Joe for the last 10KM and when we knew we were on the home stretch, we bolted for the line.

For about 1KM before the finish line, there were crowds of people cheering us on, clapping and screaming and when in cars, honking. Niagara Falls went nuts! Then I saw it, the finish line, and all I was thinking was “where is Goos and Gooby? (Carmi and Aaven).” Then I saw them, big smiles and cheering. Well Aaven was at least drooling. And then it was over. The pain, the hills, the wet. All done for me.

Inspiration
What I saw whenever I wanted to quit

But for cancer patients its not done. I woke up this morning with a sore body, but its not as bad as I thought. Cancer patients will wake up to chemotherapy. Their battle will continue, without their consent. But there are people that are able to help and battle with them. Thank you for supporting me, which in turn supports cancer research, which in turn helped develop medication that helps my mom. But the battle rages on…

Will I ride again next year? Without a doubt I would, but I am scheduled to be out of the country. If I can work it out that I am here, I will register. I would encourage anyone to do the ride, it will an experience you will never forget.

My Only Friend a Beggar

2011-06-02T05:05:00.000-07:00

A while back I was at a Church, just visiting, by myself. I know that the Philippines is known for friendliness and hospitality, but I found it hard to keep a conversation going with anyone. So for a while I just sat by myself outside waiting for the service to start.

Then a young man came walking by the Church, begging. No one gave him money or food, including me, as he waited outside the Church fence watching us Churchy folk eat. The wonderful people at this Church see it all the time and have awesome ministries to the poor and hungry, so I knew that they knew what to do. I was going to ignore him. But after a few minutes, I bought him some food because I thought God told me to. I asked him what his name was and if he was hungry, in bad Tagalog, then slipped him some munchies through the fence. Then I went back to my Church peeps and struck up a few short-lived conversations.

When that quickly died down I sat by myself and waited. Again. On the other side of the fence, Jerome the teenaged beggar sat by himself and waited as well. Everyone on my side of the fence was in happy conversation, except for me, so I figured I was on the wrong side of the fence.

Jerome is 15 and the bunso (youngest) of his 3 siblings. He loves basketball and plays at a court near his house. He already knows how to drive a car and motorcycle. His older brother is terrible at sports and he laughs while telling me this. He attends Sacred Heart Catholic Church. His father can't work. He doesn't go to school, but he wants to. For the rest of the day he will wander up and down the street. Begging.

Why did I feel like hanging with the guy outside the Church fence rather than within? But the real question was: how often am I so busy and caught up with my own Church friends that I miss the visitors, seekers, wanderers, and Jeromes?

Vampires of Quezon City

2011-05-29T08:13:00.000-07:00

Every night an army of (self-proclaimed) vampires go to work and get high on caffeine, while the rest of the city sleeps. When the roosters scream in the morning, it signals us normal folk to wipe the sleep out our eyes and get on with the new day; the same time these broods stumble out of the office, many ready to sleep through the sunlit hours. They are call center workers, an exploding population of Philippine society.

They are educated, command exceptional English, are incredibly polite, and they need jobs. An immense wellspring of treasure for international companies. I've been told that many call center workers make more money than others in normally high-paying professions. The catch? Live in the timezone you receive calls from. And there are consequences.

"We live a detached existence. We need to meaningfully connect with others."

"We need a break! We want to relax and de-stress."

"Making and having friends is difficult, being in a Bible study group is near impossible."

"Promiscuous sex is rampant in our circles, STD's are on the rise."

"After our shifts, we are often emotionally ruined."

Brainstorming session

These are some of the life-complications Christian call center workers shared with us in our pre-launch and planning meeting last Saturday. They also shared that the ministry we are planning is needed and will be welcomed; they are waiting to bring their coworkers somewhere to be ministered to. They assure us that this expanding demographic expands the need to specifically address this mission field. And they have great ideas about what kind of Church these and other young adults would like to be a part of. These many great ideas don't stop coming, and they are exciting.

The challenge?

We need just as many workers as ideas. We've seen it before; get all excited because of a great vision, progressive ideas, and soaring expectations, but with only a few burnt-out workers just trying to keep up. We need courageous people coming up with awesome ideas, then making an awesome commitment in working to see the ideas materialize. We need people with Raw Hope, because if we really believe that this Church will bring people to the Lord, then commitment will come easy. We believe that last Saturday the Lord answered our prayers and sent us some people with broken hearts for the lost, and great faith that the Lord will use them to do something about it.

When we get the workers, this will be an amazing and innovative Church that glorifies Jesus. Because he loves students, young professionals, night owls, vampires, moon minions and call center workers too.

Thank You For Calling TechnoHub

2011-05-27T00:44:00.000-07:00

The Technohub Tale Begins

2011-05-24T04:41:00.000-07:00

Where we plan to have our worship service

I've been reading three kinds of books these last few weeks: sci-fi, biography and how-to-plant-churches-books. Don't worry, I can hear your thoughts, I admit I'm a nerd. So of course I've been thinking about writing my future autobiography of how I planted a Church on an alien and hostile planet. Just kidding. Sort of.

Anyways, we are having the prelaunch of the Technohub Church this Saturday, giving people about one week notice. We also scheduled it on the same day our to-be worship team is committed (weeks ago) to a seminar. And right now, as far as I know, we haven't booked the venue (this just in: booked).

Not ideal huh? Another interesting thing is that no one, other than people with the last name Edralin have been sent or commissioned to work primarily or exclusively with this Church plant. When I planted CTO in Canada we started with about 30 committed people sent from the mother Church. Most Church plants I've been around do it that way; round up a number of workers from the mother, relieve them of their previous duties, then commission and send out the team for the new adventure.

Technohub is different. We are team-building on the fly. We are counting on people that are still committed to their Churches. We are praying that a few people will join the vision without being commissioned or sent (yet). Challenging? Yes. And who thought planting a Church would be difficult? But the uniqueness and difficulty make the journey that much better.

So here we are, writing the first few lines of the Technohub tale. Main characters? We are waiting for them to show up this Saturday. Problem? The crisis of sin, holding in bondage young adults in Quezon City, that are the future of the Church and nation. Plot? We will live it out, praying, evangelizing, saving souls and getting into random, holy misadventures. End result? Jesus wins.

This makes for a very interesting story. Family and friends, please pray for us this Saturday, that some awesome and courageous main characters join us. And that as the story unfolds in the next few months, it will be one to enjoy. Because we all love a good story, and God loves writing them.

To all the Rambunctious,

2011-05-22T08:25:00.000-07:00

I've been following the crazy amount of posts being put up on the Rambunctious facebook page, especially the day after the retreat. I wake up and think that facebook spammed the morasses out of me, but it was all you young guns fired up. Cool. I must say that I wish I was there at the retreat; this was the first one I've missed in 6 years. A winter retreat in the Philippines would be in shorts and t-shirt weather.

Anyways, what does rambunctious even mean? I know the word was introduced at the retreat to try to make a catchphrase by some dude with two first names, but there is a lot of meaning in that word.

Hmm...looks pretty negative. But then I thought of something. The whole idea of this blog is about raw hope, a theme that would run throughout the blog. Raw hope is the audacious idea that you and I can have hope in a hopeless world, because God is big and good. Even if everything sucks, nothing is right, the world's in trouble, sin is ruining everything, and even our own souls are bent and broken; our hope is not crushed.

Having this kind of hope is kind of rebellious.

Against Satan of course. Against the world, against society, the media; all things that can bring down a young Christian just trying to make it.

Not giving in or up, holding on to hope and keeping it raw. Not conforming, but standing up for who you are, and standing out of the crowd. Serving and living for Jesus in this disaster-of-a-world; loving in the midst of hate, accepting the rejected, helping the poor, chasing the lost; no matter what the world thinks or says.

A group of young people that the Enemy and the World find hard to control and difficult to handle.

That's pretty Rambunctious.

Don't Stop Hoping

2011-05-21T04:18:00.000-07:00

Aurora Street, Cubao

I attended something called a "sacrificial dinner" last night to help raise money for Bagong Silangan's ceiling project. It was somewhere (I thought) I've never been, near Cubao, so I wanted to explore a bit before the event. I spent more time than I wanted, but was I late? Not in this country. I taxied to a busy street a few blocks from the meeting place, and started wandering. Oh how I wish I had my camera.

This area had many shops, mostly second hand (ukay-ukay) stores. There were numerous vendors selling a myriad of food, contributing to the "interesting" smell in the air. A mix of burning garbage, I-don't-want-to-know-puddles, street meats and car exhaust. I then happened upon a Catholic Church called St. Joseph's Shrine, and there he was; Jesus. I thought, "hey there you are, I was wondering when you were coming back." Outside the sanctuary was a black Jesus laying on his back, encased in glass, except for his feet which you can touch. I stood for a while observing a number of women come and hold his feet with adoration and (what seemed to be) humility. Beside him, along a wall, were ~~trophies~~ statues of Jesus and Mary, and I think Joseph. In front was a line of people that would one-by-one touch the heart, rub the face and caress the heads of each statue. Most persons were mumbling prayers, one gentleman was almost in tears. I realized that I've been here before on a previous trip, also by myself, but I can't remember why.

Mass was going on, and I decided to sit in for a while. The beautiful room was surrounded by stained glass, life-sized statues of various saints, and Jesus behind the pulpit. He hung on a cross with arms out, but not because they were nailed to the cross but in a "I don't know?" type of gesture. Maybe he was wondering why he was still there. I sat and listened to two women chant in monotone, while the parishioners were supposed to be chanting back in response. Most didn't do so. I felt a pair of eyes watching me the whole time, like they knew I didn't belong. I left and continued along the busy and exhaust-filled road.

I am used to seeing children in poverty. Calloused to the sight, even the naked, dirty, malnourished ones. I have developed an emotional defence by not attaching myself lest I become paralyzed by the pity, anger and hopelessness. I have moved on from doing ministry by emotions a while ago. But something hit me that evening and my defence went down. I walked to a particularly stank area, dodging the many mystery puddles, and saw a throng of human bodies. All dirty, surrounding their sleeping area which were spoiled blankets on the pavement. Most were barely-clothed teenagers, and a couple of kids completely naked. Then I saw him.

Aaven. My heart skipped a beat and I lost rhythm in my breathing for a moment. A burst of anger, frustration and that feeling you get, when you face an absurdity, shot through my insides. A child that reminded me so bad of Aaven. Looked the same age, same size, same everything. He had an expression of quiet interest in what was going on around him, an expression Aaven does often. No shoes, no diaper, shorts or shirt. Dirty. Playful. Innocent. Poor.

What if you couldn't feed or
clothe your son?

Hopeless?

That was the question provoking my mind as I slowly walked towards the dinner party venue. Past the destitute, buck-naked, starving, homeless and dying; past the superstitious statue worshippers, past the people just surviving. As I passed Joseph's Shrine again I went to see black Jesus. I touched his feet and waited. But the mannequin didn't answer my question. I sacrilegiously moved him by accident, and got a "look" by a lady nearby.

I continued on, thinking about the Aaven look-alike and the preposterous thought of Aaven and him switching places. What if? I passed more dispossessed, sickly and rejected, passed a shop that sells rosaries, statues, images, superstition and lies.

Hopeless?

I think of those in Canada as well. The poor, the sick, hungry and homeless. The wealthy, the proud, the arrogant, the criminals, rapists, and thieves. The morally lost, the broken and abandoned. The hateful, racists, selfish and oppressive.

I make it to the dinner. We sing songs, repetitively, about how good God is. Miracles, compassion, love. Saving, kindness, never-failing.

As I stare blankly at nothing, picturing the shattered world outside the evangelical center I am in, listening to the songs about God's character, I think to myself:

Must. Keep. Hope.

And Then There Were 4

2011-05-18T05:12:00.000-07:00

Carmi here with another update on life . . . ok, so I’m pregnant. I’m currently a little more than 9 weeks according to the ultrasound and the baby is due to arrive December 17. It’ll be cool because if everything is ok, this one’s gonna be made and delivered in the Philippines!!!!

Although this is supposed to be exciting news (and don’t get me wrong, I am happy about it), I feel not so comfortable announcing it so early. Usually we’d wait after the first trimester to announce it because that’s when the baby is considered safe. When I was pregnant with Aaven the doctor had told us I was going to miscarry. I was put on bed rest for 6 weeks and was very ill. Praise God Aaven was ok and the doctors were wrong. But those first 3 months were very scary for us. I was trying not to be attached to the baby in case he wasn’t going to make it. We announced our pregnancy after Aaven was considered safe. With this pregnancy I am very ill. I can’t leave the house for more then 10 minutes without being sick. I have low blood pressure, often feel faint, and can’t keep anything down. Similar to when I was pregnant with Aaven. This is why I am not announcing it with such enthusiasm as there is still a risk this baby may not be ok. In the first Dr's appointment, she could not hear the heartbeat. We then had to do another kind of ultrasound where the Dr then saw the baby and the heart beating. We were relieved.

We decided to announce it at this point for a number of reasons. One reason is that there are only a number of excuses Jon can use to explain my absences. How many stomach issues can a girl have? There are a lot of different ministries I haven’t been able to be part of because of my pregnancy and I want people to understand it’s because I am not well, not because I am not willing.

There are a lot of prayer requests I have. Firstly, please pray for the safety of this child. I also miss home; I miss the comfort of home and knowing the medical system in Canada. Not to say that the Philippines is not capable as the hospital we are going to is top notch but it’s just different then what we know and what we are used to. Please pray for Aaven as he transitions to being a kuya. I feel really bad for him because I can’t do half the things I used to do with him. He now brings his books into my bed so I can read to him there. That’s where we spend our time together. Also pray for Jon, he is my greatest blessing and the most amazing man. He does everything from getting me water every 5 minutes to taking care of Aaven, while serving in the ministry. He does it with a smile on his face without complaint. I am truly blessed with such a loving and caring husband. Also, please pray for me. I feel weak, discouraged, and homesick. That might just be my hormones going all out of whack but I’m still hoping I’ll return to normal. We’ll be traveling to Indonesia and Canada next month so please pray for safe travels. To all our friends in Canada, see you in a few weeks!!!!

To end on a positive note, Aaven and Jon make me smile. When I’m lying in bed Jon will come and tell me nonsense stories that make me smile and Aaven will come and bite our feet (he’s too small to climb on the bed). I don’t know where he got it from but he thinks it’s funny. He also says “uh-oh” which sometimes turns into “uh-ohhhhh-aaaaaa” with a smile. When I run to the bathroom to suka (throw up), Aaven often follows me and pretends to suka too. He’s a silly kid. If I am blessed with another child like Aaven, then this difficult pregnancy will definitely be worth it! Although there may seem to be a number of things I wish I could change or have differently in my life, I know all things are temporary and so I can look to tomorrow with a smile on my face knowing that I am blessed.

Punching Criticism in the Gut

2011-05-16T06:31:00.000-07:00

Its weird that sometimes when I feel down, I remember criticism from years ago. Its like I enjoy torturing myself, reliving the painful encounters of being analyzed, shot down, humiliated and defeated. Why do I do it? Maybe because there are similar feelings that comes with discouragement and criticism: failure and doubt. Ah, failure and doubt, like the evil twin sisters lurking the halls in the Shining. Just wanted to use that picture.

We're here to criticize you, Danny

Anyways, criticism can affect us, causing us to give up and become paralyzed in reaching our goals. We lose our raw hope. But with a little practice, we can fight against the effects of criticism, here's some tips on how:

Expect a lot, accept some

It seems to go, that when you are doing something significant, criticism is sure to increase. Thus, sometimes criticism is a good sign that you doing something important enough that people would care to comment. Also, I was told once that "God uses criticism to keep us humble, in check and sensitive to others around us, so never think you will be without it." Expect criticism, because when you expect it, it takes out the devastating shock factor.

Now, to simply brush off all the expected criticism is straight up arrogance. I have painfully learned that doing so creates a "me verses them" mentality, and when you are working in a team, it becomes group suicide. Our ability to process justified criticism, learn from it and change, is key in building character, reach goals and avoid paralysis from discouragement.

Separate the person from the criticism

We can get hurt by the people that criticize, even if its useful and constructive criticism. Unfortunately the relationship can get strained and damaged. When this happens discouragement is multiplied because not only are doubting ourselves, we may also doubt our relationship with that person, question their motives, hold a grudge.

What can we do? Give them the benefit of the doubt. Meaning, allow the cause of the hurt feelings to fall under the forgivable "miscommunication" category. Believe that they didn't intend to hurt you, but was just poor in communicating. Or believe that you misunderstood what the other person was saying. When we can separate the person from the criticism, we can process the criticism, while maintaining the valuable relationship.

Use as fuel

Sometimes we need a kick in the pants. Sometimes we become OK with just being OK. Easily we get into the habit of settling, because its more comfortable. We are just fine with mediocre, average, possible, normal, and a pretty boring raw hope list. But when someone gets in your face and criticizes you, it usually means they think you are better than what you are showing. In essence, they are saying "wake up! you are better than this!"

Although a kick in the pants hurts, it may be what we need. We have the choice on how we respond. We can say "I suck, she said so, I give up" or we can say "I suck, I am better than this, I will work on sucking less." Then use the criticism to motivate you to getting awesome-er.

Build up the security bank.

One of the best ways to counteract the discouraging effects of criticism is to be secure in yourself. When you know who you are, what you stand for, what you believe, and where you are going, criticism has a smaller chance of casting self-doubt.

Building our security bank means that we allow ourselves to feel good about who we are by a) surrounding ourselves with positive, encouraging friends, b) setting up reminders of accomplishments (put up your incredible art, hang your degrees and certificates, display your trophies and medals, anything that will remind you of how amazing you are!) and c) most importantly, maintain an awesome relationship with God, from whom your self-worth comes from.

When your security bank is full, you will be better able to listen to and analyze criticism, separate the person from the criticism, and use that criticism for fuel. Then you can live with more raw hope!

A Month in Pictures: April - May

2011-05-12T06:03:00.000-07:00

Breakdancing crew during Commonwealth United, a youth service/outreach

The crowd at the youth outreach

D'Zone, along with a few other rappers @ Commonwealth United
Really cool testimonies from these gentlemen

Aaven began to mutate
or it was a bug bite
a little Benadryl and he was a normal human again

Quezon Memorial

We saw some Filipino history in the small museum inside this structure

Chillin and little bit illin

Some outdoor games at Church camp

My team that so obviously won everything

World Team missionaries Edwin, Amy and Josiah Samson
on the edge of the Payatas landfill

AJ Pacis visiting from Canada

A young girl sitting on what I believe is processed recyclables the family can sell
Later, she crossed a crumby ladder over a river (pictured below)
to get to her 'home'

Not your dream cottage by the river

Adorable children

What's this is even about?

Aaven preaching

its hard to describe, but he really looked like he was preaching

he was pretending to read the bible, then started screaming and pointing

Mall location display at Aaven's height

Dinosaurs!

Guest Post by Brandon McKenzie: Memories in the Philippines

2011-05-10T00:15:00.000-07:00

Ang Pinas, my home away from home away from home...away from home. I've got a lot of homes.

Eating Balut, sarap!

It has been over a year since I left my 11 month journey into the slightly unknown, and the profound impact on my life has remained to this day. If there is one thing I can really look back upon and say I learned while staying there, it would have to be the value of community. There is just something about the place, the people, that is intense in its unity. The unity of community is rampant all across the board. While staying at KBCF I was encouraged by the reaching out of specific individuals whom shall remain nameless so as to not embarrass them or myself. Just knowing that I was always cared for in what to me was a strange place was very comforting. From my many Ate's and Kuya's to my Nanay and my adopted family and the kindness of the staff and members, and all my friends, even the neighborhood kids and families. It may have been because I was a foreigner, but it was because of them that I felt as if I was home. With my beloved batchmates sa FEBIAS, my heart is forever with those people. I have never experienced brotherhood as I had in those places, and let me give just two quick examples.

I was alone one night, sitting ang labas sa KBCF, when it came to the end of a cell group. The young men who came to meet and discuss Jesus has departed from the facility and were standing just outside the church gates awaiting their rides. I saw them and took notice that they had huddled up together as if they were on a basketball team and making a play for the next time they would hit the court. In a sense they were, for they had been praying together huddled up in that group. I just knew at that moment that what they had I needed, brotherhood. What I saw there at KBCF had touched me and I was glad to enter into fellowship with those young men. I was glad to have the chance to share the Word on one occasion with many noses left bloody from the language barrier, pero walang problema talaga dahil mga kapatid kami. Events such as these and the boldness of a man who chased his daughter's safety in the horror of Ondoy have been etched in my memory. Ondoy and Pepeng were very dark days for the Philippines. I can remember that the next day, after the rain had stopped, the streets had not felt the same. It had seemed as if the entire country was sad, like they had just been violated.

With the Vasquez kids

With my batchmates there was such a bond that on one occasion, while in our all male dorm, one brother found himself very low spiritually. It was a surreal moment, so much so that I still get chills thinking about it. It was brought to our attention by a fellow classmate that our brother was feeling defeated, and so this student called together the entire batch [the men] and called for us to pray. EVERYBODY STOPPED ALL THAT THEY WERE DOING, GATHERED INTO THE HALL, AND PRAYED OVER OUR BROTHER! I have not since, nor do I think I will ever see such an act of Love like that. We prayed, each one aloud and afterwards encouraged our brother. Family like that is hard to come by.

I think that is something most OFW's miss when they set out to work abroad. There is a real sense of I belong to a people. Why else would filipino's congregate in nearly every country in the world [mga kababayan] if not the sense of familiarity and even family. We were made as social beings, in the likeness of God who in Himself is in a perfect unity of community, for He is the GodHead three in one. It is my belief that because of the Philippines, I will forever long for community. I will always be in need of a barungay of believers. Lastly, as a side note of sorts, I could not help but feel that the places of most open vulnerable hospitality, were those places predominately occupied by lower income families. My eyes viewed poverty, but at the same time providence. I know more than a few at Commonwealth who would easily share their everything with you at a moments notice. With people like that, who wouldn't feel at home away from home.

Keep Loving Jesus!

Brandon

For A Motherless Child

2011-05-08T00:43:00.000-07:00

David, the coolest guy in the Bible that isn't also God, wrote a specially awesome Psalm, number 139. It was one of the more meaningful passages I read after I gave my life to the Lord. Its mind boggling; God almighty and infinite Creator of the universe, knows, cares about, and loves. . . me.

A particular line stands out today being Mother's Day, "You know my inmost being, you knit me together in my Mother's womb."

OK, so that means that while I was just a bunch of cells in a newly fertilized egg, God was there and knew what was happening. While a blastocyst, trying to find a nice place along the uterus, God was thinking of me and forming my inmost being. While I was an embryo, the size of a sesame seed, looking like a tadpole, the Lord that sustains solar systems was directing my growth. That before my earthly parents knew I existed, God did, and was already in love.

Whoa, that's heavy, David.

This is my first Mother's Day without my mother. She died last year. So besides celebrating an absolutely amazing mom to my son, I am also thinking about motherless children. Because not everyone gets to have an amazing mom, or one for very long, or one at all. But we are all born, which means we all have a mother that gave birth to us. And that means that all of us were knit together by God, in her tummy.

In the bigger scheme of things, and I'm talking spiritual here, we were all orphans. Estranged from our heavenly Parent, in rebellion, bound for an eternal timeout. But God, the only perfect Parent, never gives up. He chases, cleans up after us, disciplines, fights for us, and died for us. He died that I could be adopted into my true spiritual family, with the Parent that was there causing the miracle that became me, in my mother's womb.

I hope that Mother's Day points you to the Lord, whether you have an earthly mother to celebrate with or not. But especially if you do not, because the Lord loves you, and that love is definitely worth celebrating today.

Psalm 139:1-14

¹ You have searched me, LORD,
and you know me.
² You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
³ You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
⁴ Before a word is on my tongue
you, LORD, know it completely.
⁵ You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
⁷ Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
⁸ If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
⁹ If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
¹⁰ even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
¹¹ If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
¹² even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
¹³ For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

Please Don't Watch

2011-05-05T23:11:00.000-07:00

. . . you're heart might break.

I went on an outing with a group from Bagong Silangan, a Church that is a part of the Commonwealth Project. I wanted to see and participate in a "prayer walk", and was told we would be going close to the infamous Payatas landfill, where many people living in extreme poverty, scavenge for anything they can sell, or eat. I know that 15 minutes is a lot of time to watch a video, but I think its worth it.

Interesting Week

2011-04-30T08:30:00.000-07:00

Life is strange, these days. I had one of those "is this real life?" moments.

Carmi and I, along with a couple of other World Teamers had to take a two-day course on terrorism awareness. Or was it general disaster awareness? Possibly abduction prevention and how to outsmart your abductor...class. Anyways, it was really cool, had me kind of feeling like a spy or government agent of some sort. Can't deny I'm a little more paranoid, although I'm sure our filipino-ness would probably cancel us out of anyone's hit list.
So we are on break from the course, and the first thing I do is run out to see Aaven and give him a hug. Just a few hours away and I miss him because he is awesome. I play a little, feeling overjoyed because this little creature is my son, and he loves me.

I notice the clouds because they are strikingly vivid. And although it was 35 degrees, we were in the shade while a refreshing breeze swayed the palm branches in rhythm. Then I think about: this crazy adventure we are on, living paycheque to paycheque for the first time since getting married, living in our 4th "home" in the last year and a half, learning rape prevention and hostage strategies, our wonderful son, who has continued to slowly expand my understanding of love, the fact we have little clue what we will be doing, or where we will be living, in 2 years.

And I smile asking, "is this real life?"

And Discouragement

I am very much looking forward to starting the Technohub Project, a Church led, designed and for young adults. In fact, this was in the forefront of my mind when we were planning in coming to the Islands. But as it turns out, my plans were based on a number of assumptions that are not true. This has been a source of discouragement this week, triggered by a vision meeting that was originally planned for 20-30 people, that ended up having an attendance of 4 and a half, after 2 last-minute venue changes. Good news is that those 4 and half persons are the coolest in the Philippines, and we had a great meeting. Now the problem with being far away from people that you can really talk too, discouragement can get beyond appropriate proportions.

Beat Street and Fun Run

On Friday, after watching most of the Royal Wedding, I went to Commonwealth United, a youth service part of the Commonwealth Project. I shared videos on a previous post of one their crazy outreaches. Here's one from Friday, albeit much less exciting:

Now its quite obvious that the other breaker is far better than I, but I got cheers because it's entertaining to see an old schooler embarrass himself, and mostly, a pastor breakdance. It was quite a strange sensation because I used to breakdance at a time in my life when I was running in the opposite direction from the Lord, so it always brings up old ghosts. But on the positive side, it ends up that there was something useful in the hours of practicing, injuring myself and spinning on my head; it helps me connect, a decade later. They promised next week I'd have to break again. Pray for me.

The next morning @ 5:30AM, I participated in the KBCF Fun Run, a 5KM prayer run/walk to raise money for their building project. Even though I wore my heavy duty knee sleeve, my oft injured knee couldn't handle more than a kilometre. That's it, one kilometre. Humbled.

Back to discouragement, I had to be reminded of something, again. That although things didn't happen the way I thought or hoped they would, it is God, and not anyone else, even myself, that is in charge. And that usually makes for an interesting week.

Resurrection

2011-04-24T05:14:00.000-07:00

Today at Church, the worship leader talked about how the resurrection secures our salvation. Then he asked with a wry smile if anyone wanted to experience salvation now, meaning, was anyone so looking forward to an eternity with God, that they were ok with dying today. I assumed it was a serious question.

I put my hand up immediately, the only one to do so.

With no harm intended he made a little joke, because I guess its weird if someone admits to being ok with dying, as it can come off as if they want to die. Depressed, unhappy with life, maybe even a little suicidal.

I sat there contemplating, thinking I got tripped up on his Tagalog, maybe not really getting what he meant by his question. So as I listened to an amazing sermon about the resurrection, I kept thinking about his question, and wondered if anyone else was ok with dying.

Before I gave the benediction, I said (something like) this:

"A question was asked earlier in the service, "are you ok with dying?" I put up my hand. I put up my hand because scripture teaches us that what we have here on earth, no matter how great it may seem, is nothing in comparison to what is coming next.

The world is fallen, full of sinners like myself, suffering terrible consequences of our sin. And Jesus teaches us not to hold on tightly. That it's all temporary, shadows and dust, and will soon be gone.

Jesus hung on the cross to save us from sin, to give us hope beyond this life. To save us from the world we broke. This is why we are taught to pray for Jesus' return, that he may restore paradise.

I enjoy my life. I love my family. Immensely. And I have been blessed almost unconditionally, so it seems to me. I have no real thing to complain about and can count my blessings daily.

But if the Bible is true, then my real home is in heaven, and if He decided to take me there today, I'd be ready.

And therein is the power of the resurrection. Death isn't the end, there is more to come. Today we are reminded of our salvation, and we should celebrate and take joy in it."

Happy Easter.

Retreat from City, Attack the Town (A Very Good Friday)

2011-04-22T22:48:00.000-07:00

2 totally awesome things going on here, a retreat, which means getting away from the city, and that it was on Good Friday. Even though the resort grounds were more like a theme park than a camp site, there was some nice mountainous scenery on the way to the place. The retreat theme was "Unity", with the extra kick of focusing on the Cross because of Good Friday.

Family Shot

KBCF Commonwealth Project Family

On the way home we saw a procession, reenacting the Passion of the Christ.

For one of my sermons about unity, at the end I tried doing an imagination/visualization thingy, to get them to think about building unity in light of the Cross. Here is what I had them try to imagine:

Imagine yourself, carrying a sack. The sack has the label "SIN" on it.

Now picture yourself putting all your sins into this sack.

All of your lies, curses, harsh words, violence, sexual sin, terrible thoughts, hatred, anger, pride, disobedience, prejudice, racism, and all the rest.

Picture yourself tying up the sack and begin walking towards where they crucified Jesus.

As you make your way, you see the cross from afar, and your sack of sins feel heavier.

You feel guilt and shame, the closer you get.

As you arrive at the cross, you fall to your knees, and reluctantly you drop your sack at the foot of cross.

After you do this, your guilt turns to relief, and your shame turns to joy.

You are in disbelief that you get to leave your sins with him, that he died for them.

Your heart swells up with Jesus' love.

You stay kneeled at the cross worshiping, adoring, thanking him.

Then, you notice someone coming up behind you.

He or she has the same purpose, to be forgiven of sins, to come and worship at the cross.

As they make their way closer, you notice that this person is someone that you don't get along with.

A believer that you hate, despise, begrudge, hold bitterness or unforgiveness.

He/she falls to their knees close to you, and place their bag of sins at the foot of the cross.

Just like you.

You notice that their sack of sin is the exact same size as yours.

Then picture more people coming up behind you.

Think of people that you feel inferior or superior to, that you have judged, that bother you, that have hurt you, backstabbed you.

Believers, where they or you have done anything to cause disunity in your relationship.

Picture all of you together, with the same-sized sacks of sin, at the foot of the cross.

We are all equals at the foot of the cross.

We are all sinners in need of a Saviour.

In this moment, ask yourself these questions:

How can I receive forgiveness at the foot of the cross, yet withhold it from others?

How can I feel superior at the foot of the cross, when my own brokenness is laid bare?

How can I continue to live in pride, that causes disunity, when I am humbled by the cross?

Now picture that as you realize that there is no room for disunity at the foot of the cross, you all get up, embrace and forgive each other.

Good Friday to you all.

Tips on Writing Your Raw Hope Challenge List

2011-04-20T06:27:00.000-07:00

Notice the elegant pen holding form. Also pro at chopsticks.

Read this first: The List

Some tips on how to make a Raw Hope Challenge List:

1. Choose goals with the end in mind

Start with the end of the year. Think about where you want to be, and what you want to accomplish. Maybe you have some longer-term goals. Think about what you need accomplish this year, which helps you in completing your multi-year goal.

2. Make your goals measurable

The reason we never stick to our New Year resolutions is that we often make them immeasurable, like “lose weight” or “get awesomer”. But if we make them measurable, and impose a deadline, we are more likely to stick to them, because we know exactly what we are aiming for. For instance, one of my goals is to “learn Tagalog”. If I leave it at that, I can say I accomplished my goal even if I learn just a few sentences. But if I make it measurable, like “pass level 1 comprehension test by St. Theodore's Day”, then know exactly what I need to do, and hopefully how to do it.

3. Make some near impossible

Push yourself. If your goals are too easy, they will also be boring, and you will forget about the list. Make them challenging enough that you would not be sure if you can complete them. If you are sure you can do all of them, then your list doesn’t require much faith or hope, thus defeating the purpose. I want to climb one of the largest mountains in the Philippines, but I don’t know if I will find the time, or if my bum knee will allow me to do so, but darn it, its going on the list!

4. Make them meaningful

Look beyond yourself. Ask God how you can change not only yourself, but also those around you. When our goals are only about ourselves, we are more ok to let them slide, but if they include the well-being of others, we can get so inspired that quitting ceases to be an option.

5. Share your list

If you keep your list to yourself, it will be easy to drop it, quick. But if you share your list with at least one other person, that cares about you and is not afraid to you hold accountable, your chances of success quadruple (I have no stats for this claim). Or be like me, set yourself up for failure, and publish it on the Internet. At least I tried. Yeah.

6. Constantly review your list, and edit accordingly

There is nothing better than crossing off a raw goal because you did it. But also be open to dropping a goal, or adding something that comes up. Carmi and I make plans, but they always seem to change. So the list changes too, usually for the better.

7. Keep some to yourself

Some goals should be kept between you and God, maybe spouse and kids. Some goals are personal, special experiences that might lose its preciousness if made public. Some goals like “be a better husband/father” might have measurable goals for the family to know only, although if you have a really close mentor or friend, letting them know is helpful as well. Try doing something awesome and not telling anyone.

8. Plan to do a year-end review

This is not only for list accomplishments, but for everything. Lord-willing, I will write about that later on.

So there you have it. Try it out. Make a list, and see how amazing you can make it. Then picture how you would feel, how you would have grown, and how you'd be encouraged to make next years list even more raw, and hopeful.

Babies, Birds and Humans

2011-04-19T08:26:00.000-07:00

Aaven holding a baby chicken dyed red. Or is that pink? They will be used for reasons I forget during an upcoming fiesta that will be held in Marikina, which we are planing to attend. Lots of drinking will ensure I am told. They have about 6 of these colored birds, but so far, 2 have died tragic deaths under the feet of excitable children.

My son is awesome.