Another Year

Late evening sun filtered through the trees and shimmered off the watery rice fields, dazzling the eye and creating a surreal moment of happiness. A small hush of wind played gently through the rice grass, creating a soothing rustling sound. Birds filled the heavy air with colors and sound as they snapped up mosquitoes for a bed-time snack before disappearing into the jungle. Bats slowly began appearing, flittering to the sound of the beautiful melody being sung by the lone silhouette on the edge of the fields.
I regret to say that I do not live there. I live in the chaoticly jumbled mess they call the city of Manila. Late evening sun reflects off of skyscraper's windows and slips away behind stacks of structures they call buildings. There are no birds that are able to survive the thick, syrupy diesel-filled air. There are no fish in the oozing, black, trash-filled waters that they call rivers. There is no such thing as 25 MPH on the crowded areas of pavement that they call roads. And there is no relief for the thousands of bodies laying on sidewalks whom we call 'the poor.'
This year has already proven to be an incredible reality check for me. It's amazing how fast I can lose perspective! After just two months in the states, coming back here was a shock that was not easy for me. I grumbled and groaned and cried over the traffic and my airconditioning and my school and my drivers and my laundry and my food and that I had to go grocery shopping since I had no mom around to do it for me - and then Girlie came along.
Girlie is a dear friend of mine who has babysat my sisters and I in the past. She has nothing. Literally. Her three children, husband, and her desperately struggle to meet their basic needs. The moment she stepped out of the car and into my arms, she was sobbing with thanks. I was taken aback as she began to tell me what had happened in her life while I was gone. She is unemployed. Her husband had lost his job and shortly thereafter discovered he had expensive health problems. Her in-laws were unable to support her any longer. The village was struggling too much as a whole to give her money. Her children had to walk 2 miles to school since she couldn't afford the 16 cent transportation. And worst of all, she had been depriving herself of food so that her kids could have full bellies for school. She wasn't sure how much longer she was going to make it. At her lowest point of despair, she heard God tell her that he pulled through worse in the past and wouldn't let her down.
The next day, she got the call from my father offering her to watch me while my family is in the states and then to assist my mother in homeschooling my siblings when they returned. A true godsend. That night Girlie and I sat in the air-conditioned study eating chocolate that I had bought for her. She cannot afford chocolate, so it's a real treat. She looked at me, completely radiant, and said with confidence, "Today, I feel I am so rich!"
I felt so ashamed that I ever even dared to grumble about my food and school and transportation! I had lost sight of how amazingly excessively I am blessed! It's important that we as Americans remember that things we take for granted every day of our lives are the highest luxuries to the most of the world. Just think - 70% of the world's population has never heard a dial tone. And we complain about bad signal.
I want this blog to be something where my heart can be revealed as I discover the riches and lessons the world has to give. Hopefully, aside from you finding out about my life, it will give you insight into the world outside America and prompt your hearts into action. Our house is always open for those of you who wish to come and minister!

Now, on a lighter note, I tried to get my household help to tell me what they were thankful for, but it was a bit harder than I thought it would be.... you see, my one guard, Nester, speaks a different dialect of Tagalog than I and the rest of us do, so we have communication difficulties. Enjoy my frustration. :) Mom, I know you can appreciate this....