The adventures of Mama, baby and bump!

Please excuse the ruggedness of this blog.No time to edit! :)

At the beginning of the month I travelled back to Scotland for a short 10 day visit. It was a sad trip in many ways. Seeing a loved one before they pass over to the other side always is. It was a hard trip,but a blessed trip.

My hubby and I have always made a point of not being away from each other for more than a few days.We miss each other too much! I know its mushy, but true! But there are some situations you just can't prepare for. This trip was one of them

To be totally honest I really did not know how it was possible financially for me to return at such short notice. In my heart I really wanted to go and say goodbye to my step dad who had fought cancer so very bravely for over 2 years. But I did not think I could go. But it's just like God to already be way ahead of us and have planned everything out right to the last detail. I was reminded again what a personal God I have.

One morning I had been thinking a lot about my family and the situation they were all facing back home. I felt so helpless. That afternoon I received a message from a dear couple who have become special friends and encourager's to us. They said that they wanted me to know that if I wanted to go back to Scotland for a trip that they would like to gift my flight. Who does that?!!
At the time they knew my step dad was ill but had no idea of the details.The amazing thing was at that time I also had no idea of that decline of his health. Once I was able to speak for shock, I told our friends I would pray about it and speak to Ron and my mum. Within a couple of hours a family member phoned me to tell me the doctors had given my step dad a couple of days maximum to live. I knew God had presented this opportunity for me to be with my family at this time.I was overwhelmed by His love and the kindness of our friends. Flights for Josiah and I were booked that evening and we flew the next day.

I was a little nervous about travelling a different route than usual with Josiah and bump.When we checked in, the airport stroller we had hoped for could not be given. Carrying an 11 month old through security and airports would be a bit of a challenge.But guess what happened? After we got off our first flight a member of staff approached us and said. "Some one on the plane yesterday just happened to leave a stroller. Do you want to use it and just return in later?" I just knew then it was a little kiss of favour from our heavenly Father!

Then as we got to our gate we were told our flight had been changed! I hadn't brought any cash with me because our stop over times were supposed to be very short and I figured I wouldn't need it. But now we would have hours to wait and my baby belly was telling me I was going to get hungry soon. But guess what happened next? As we went through security the lady said "Oh you have been upgraded to business class and so can avail the business lounge. Well Ive never been in the airport business lounge but oh my! There was a big lovely buffet with all sorts of yummys which Josiah and I enjoyed. Gods loving hand was on us again! I don't want to bore you with every detail but it was just so clear God had gone before us the whole trip!

I'm writing this because I think it's important not to forget the favour and blessing that some may just say is coincidence. It's definitely not. We have a personal God who knows every need- even the ones that may seem insignificant.He really does care! :)

Through the eyes of a volunteer....

Below is the writtings of Chloe, a 20 year old who has come to volunteer with us for 3 weeks. She describes her first visit to the dump site community in Tondo....

  

"11/08/2012. Tondo dumpsite; festering with fermenting rubbish, knee deep toxic sludge, contaminated water and accessorized ever so plentifully with vermin. The visual can only be likened to the minds darkest concoctions of the aftermath of a war; devastation, disease and despair. As we travelled into the dumpsite dozens of smiling faces greeted and ran after us welcoming us to the community Not one child looked in anyway disheartened by their situation and couldn’t hold your hand or cuddle you any quicker - the people being the ultimate paradox to the extreme poverty they are victims of. Their affection, trust and joy left me with the heaviest feeling in my heart I have ever felt. I looked at the children, some with no clothes, some coughing from primary complex, some starving, some lying in contaminated flood water, ALL smiling – truly, diamonds in the rough. That day I listened to the children’s community choir singing for the first time. I was met by beaming faces desperate to perform. Whilst posing for the camera and singing ‘the climb’ the children sounded out of this world. Their English was word perfect, perfectly in tune,; the happiness in their eyes was overwhelming. When the choir finished and the children began to return to their ‘homes,’ cramped, disease ridden make shift homes scattered across the dumpsite, it hit me - these children have nothing but hope. That is the first time I have ever witnessed the power that having hope can have. It transforms these children from feeling alone and victimized to being some of the strongest characters I have ever met. I couldn’t help but cry later that day as I thought back to the tiny faces. That night I had a shower, I put on clean clothes, I went to the mall and I bought some dinner - not one of these things did I do without thinking how much I would give for those children to take my place. My mind boggled with how the situation could be so out of hand, the class divide far beyond any stretch of the imagination. I was consumed with feelings of anger, at why these children and adults must endure this when so many, including myself, have so much and always desire more in a complete self-obsessed ignorance. That night I felt the hollowest, darkest feeling I have ever felt - complete helplessness for the children. I wish I could take every single one of them and give them clean clothes, houses and rid them of disease, the fact that I cant and I have seen the conditions they live in makes me feel helpless and beyond any frustration imaginable. Photographs, videos, blogs, even fabrications of your mind, nothing will ever amount to the feeling that succumbs you in Tondo. So many turn a blind eye to the jewels that are buried under the dirt and the disease but my heart will never let me move on from the sights I saw my first day in Tondo ."

What if it was my son?

I'm just astonished at the way our boy is growing up so fast. I cannot believe our baby is almost 1 year old! It has been the quickest, most amazing year of my life. Of course I am totally bias, but Josiah Domingo is just the cutest, clever and quirky bundle of laughs I have ever met! I am amazed each day at every new thing he does. When he walked this month I screamed so loud he fell over! When I think of when we brought him home and he was so helpless and tiny and now he is becoming this independent little man. He amazes me. God amazes me. The way He could create and entrust me with  such a precious gift. Josiah is so loved.So very loved.

Since becoming a mummy I find that my heart breaks so much easier when I see babies and children living on the dump site and in the cemetery.A fiery voice that shouts "injustice" has been more awakened than ever. In particular when I see little boys playing naked and hungry in the mud I cannot help but think of Josiah. Every time I see them I cannot help thinking- what if it was my son? What if Josiah was born here.  As I was thinking this through I started to scribble down these words.....

What if it was my son who was born on a dump

Birthed into the filth, surrounded by flies

No milk to drink, only rags to wear

What if it was my child- then would I care?

          What if it was my daughter, who saw horrors like these

In the black of night- watched her father die

Violence and rage, gangs and pain

What if it was my child- would my heart cry for change?

Give me Your eyes Lord, eyes to really see

If I had them for a moment, my heart would change forever

Give me your eyes Lord, eyes to really see

If I had them for a moment,I'd be forever changed

          What if it was my child who had to work in the trash

Life at risk always, just to earn some rice

Injured and weakened, scared and alone

What if?What if it was my child?

 Give me your eyes Lord, eyes to really see

If I had them for a moment, my heart would would change forever

Give me your eyes Lord, eyes to really see

If I had them for a moment, Id be forever changed

Mercy- Justice

Mercy and Justice for the poor

Mercy- Justice

Mercy and justice for the poor

         What if it was me who was moved with compassion

No more words, but love in action

What if it was me who done all I could

No more talk, but motivated to help

What if it was me? What if it was me?

Give me your eyes Lord, eyes to really see

Give me them for a moment, change my heart forever

Give me your eyes Lord, eyes to really see

Give me them for a moment,make me more like You,

I made a difference for THAT ONE.

I hadn't intended blogging two nights in a row. But our darling baby son has cooperated with his bedtime schedule tonight and I found myself browsing through face book. I came  across a post on a friends page about "The starfish" I used to have this up on my wall as a teenager and when I read it tonight it just sang encouragement straight to my heart.

The Starfish Story

Original Story by: Loren Eisley

One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed
a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean.

Approaching the boy, he asked, What are you doing?

The youth replied, Throwing starfish back into the ocean.
The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them back, they'll die.

... Son, the man said, don't you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish?
You cant make a difference!

After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish,
and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said
I made a difference for that one.

After all these years I find such motivation in these words once again.I'm thankful to read them.Sometimes we are surrounded by so many critical needs that the very thought of changing things and making any kind of lasting difference seems on the border of being ridiculous! Of course that is us thinking in the natural realm only. It's negative midset creeping in. 

I remember a couple of years back we had a journalist from a British news channel interview us. I remember as we toured him round the dump site community that he seemed almost completely untouched- impassive. I remember at the time thinking that he must have seen so much anguish all over the world that he had either become used to it or that it was a way of coping.Which ever it was Ron and I were absolutely unprepared for one of his questions that day. It was delivered in a very matter of fact and pretty cold tone;

"So do you really think you are making a difference to all thi?. Surely the situation will only get worse"

To be honest I can't even remember what we mumbled in response.We were both a little taken aback by his lack of hope.

Afterwards and on many occasions Ron and I talked about how if we were to look at the whole picture- all the needs, all the families, all the suffering and then look at what we were doing to change it, we would most definitely pack our bags and get on the next flight! I mean really, 30,000 families. We are merly scratching the surface. But if we remain focused on one person at a time.If we really commit to seeing that person standing before us at that appointed time. If we respond to the needs of that one, then we are making a difference.Are we changing the living situations of the whole dump site community?No. Are we making a difference one child at a time? I think by Gods grace alone- yes.

It's not about being the biggest charity. Its not about our work being well known. Its not about having the most high status funders or the best materials. It's really just about remaining faithful to the people we believe God has called us to. Its about loving Him first and loving that one he puts in our path.It's about being willing for your plans to be interrupted to make a difference for time and eternity to that one.

"Whoever receives one little child like this in My name receives Me." MAtt 18:5

Be encouraged today.Jesus spoke to thousands in crowds but he also shows us the most beautiful examples of how he stopped to talk and meet the practical needs of that one person.Over and over he demonstrates the importance.We all have a chance to make a differnce for that one.

Dirty Feet.

So I forgot my welly boots.I seem to have become increasingly forgetful since I became a Mama! Anyway as I was washing all the sludge off my feet after walking through the dump site it promoted a memory to be unlocked.

One of the first times I walked through the mushy toxic liquefied trash something significant happened that in all honesty kind of blew my mind at the time.My feet were really dirty with all sorts of "stuff" clinging to them. As soon as we entered the building located in the middle of the dump site a boy aged around 12 ran enthusiastically toward me almost knocking me over. His name was JP. He was a twin. His parents chose to keep his twin brother and he was left on the dump site. He ended up being raised by his Aunt who really loves him and has a great compassion for children in general. They still live on the dump site....

I was a bit bewildered at JP's excitement and wondered if he found something of value while scavenging through the trash. There were previous occasions when he couldn't wait to tell us he had found a bible and the other time a working guitar! He could hardly speak a word of English and I very little Tagalog at the time so he used gestures to lead me to a bench.I sat down. He held up his hands as if to stay "stay there... wait". So I did.

His next action gripped my heart and humbled me more than i can express. He brought a blue pale with clean water. When I say "clean" i mean not from the sewage or the street.He bent down and took off my shoes that were encrusted with a tar like substance and he began to wash my feet.

This young boy began to wash my dirty feet. When I realised what he was doing I tried to tell him he didn't have to and that I'd do it. He firmly but kindly told me with his hands to "stay". I was so humbled. This young boy had know much rejection but he also knew much love. He was displaying the character of Jesus right there and then in the middle of a dump site.He did not raise his head until my feet were spotless. He washed them with his hands and dried them with a rag. When he finished and the water in the bucket was dark brown and my feet were clean he looked up with the biggest smile.

That simple act probably never meant much to him. I'm sure he never planned to do it.He didn't stop to see who was watching. He was just moved to show kindness.

As on many many occasion there was again- the children we came to bless and help- blessing us. The ones we came to show love to- loving us.The ones we came to teach..... teaching us.

 ^Jesusrose from supper and laid aside His garments, took a towel and girded Himself.   After that, He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded. ^{6  John 13:4-6}

No child should have to die this way.

As I am typing every word, all that is really going through my whole being is "no child should have to die this way- crushed to death by a dump truck"

Before I came to the Philippines I had never seen a dead body.

Today I saw another....

We were walking along the cramped living conditions inside temporary housing to visit a family we are supporting.Ron and I were focused on making sure our visitors from Scotland were OK, that we wouldn't step on a child or fall over a cat or someones bucket of laundry in the dimly lit hallway.

One of our visitors said "did you see that back there"?
-"See what?"
Its a wake....

So as we  walked back to find a small white coffin. Family sitting on an old bench at the front of it staring blankly ahead. We spoke to a tear stained lady. It was her son in that coffin. His name was John Mark. He was 14.

He was 14.

He went to the main area of the dump site every day to collect materials that could be sold at the junk shop.He done it to help buy food for his 6 siblings. I'm not sure how many years he had been doing this. But 5 days ago would be his last time.

Often you can see young boys  jumping up at the dump trucks to grab the "best trash" . Things like plastic, metal and paper that they can sell per kilo. They earn on average 8-10pence per kilo.The dump trucks have a digger part at the back. It's large and heavy with vicious metal teeth that pierce into the dirt and pull out the rubbish to put inside. It's the drivers blind spot.

John Mark got caught in it while trying to grab rubbish. He died very soon after.

I'm writing this down right now because I cant sleep thinking about John Mark and his family. A child should not have to die that way.It should not be common for us to meet families who have lost children or have had children suffer severe injury this way- but it is.

It's a Filipino custom to have an open coffin for around one week. It's a sign of respect to the dead and it gives the family time to try and find money for the funeral. Everything in me was saying no. I did not want to look. We have seen children in coffins before and honestly I cant find 'the words to describe how it feels.Everytime is terrible.You never get used to it.Its just so wrong.

Today I felt like a force was physically pulling me away from looking inside, but my heart told me I should step forward to show respect to the family. So I followed my husband.

John Mark was dressed in his best white shirt and blue trousers that were a little too long for his height. He had no shoes. It was obvious that his face has been mangled in parts and that the family had tried their very best to cover it up and make John Mark looked as they knew him. I realised when I looked that I had seen him around but did not know him well. When you are faced with such tragedy emotion takes over. Ron and I stood weeping over the coffin at a life that need not have been lost. As we turned to leave we noticed a teenager who we know very well. His nickname is Boknoy and has been involved in our youth program for a couple of years.John Mark was his younger brother. Ron held him and he just sobbed with his head down. The mother began to groan through her tears as I embraced her and prayed.It would be stupid to say I felt her pain. I could not even begin to imagine the heartache.I have no idea the grief she feels at losing her son. Her heart must be torn. But as she groaned into my shoulder I felt it was a mothers groan of agony.

I felt helpless. Sometimes when you meet people with such deep grief there is nothing to be said. Such pain. Such loss. Its as simple as this- if John Mark had not had to work on the dump site, he would still be alive today.
Later my heart and mind were trying to process the situation and others we experienced that day. I have no answers. I just know it is the injustice of a cruel world.

"For He will deliver the needy when he cries. The poor also, and him who has no helper.He will spare the poor and needy, and will save the souls of the needy. He will redeem their life from oppression and violence" Psalm 72: 12-14

This verse helped me as I thought about the family. God heard the cry of the mother.His heart is moved at the groans and cries of the poor and needy. When no one else can help, he can help.

Please remember Boknoy in your prayers. He asked Jesus into his life a while back. Pray that even through such a terrible situation that he could be a light to the rest of his family.

A kiss of healing

A kiss of healing -that's all he needs

One touch from you, from our souls we plead

His broken body fixed with love

Take the shadows away with your light from above.

Abba Daddy, kiss his heart

It's been so long that he's been laid apart

Take his body, make it new

 We know he'd give all the glory to You.

Kiss his weakness, make him strong

We long to sing a victory song

A song of triumph, a sign that we've fought

A song of great thanks for the healing  You've brought

When should you give up  believing God can heal a sickness?

-You shouldnt.

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick" Proverbs 13:12



Coming face to face with suffering is one of the hardest things.

Coming face to face with real suffering is one of the hardest things.When you have done all you can do to try and alleviate their pain and you feel so helpless, all you can do is cry and pour out your heart before God for them. Doesn't matter how many times you see the injustice of suffering. It doesn't get easier. I'm thankful we believe in the God who feels....

This is Mary Chris (on the left)

This is Mary Chris

Yesterday Mary Chris and her family did not know Ron and I were going to do a house visit. When we got there we found the mother and husband of Mary sitting crying. They are heartbroken. They are all suffering.

20 year old Mary has been diagnosed with malnutrition and tuberculosis. She had been confined in hospital until the family were told by staff that "the government has run out of money for treatment" and so she was sent home with a long list of medicines and other items she was supposed to buy. Her husband Babie  works all hours collecting and cleaning plastic bottles.He is a hard worker but could not even begin to afford most of the items on that list. Yesterday he was so loving with his wife. He held her skeletal frame and kept gently rubbish her arm. He told her in front of Ron and I that she was still beautiful.

We are so grateful that several people have responded and have made it possible for us to buy the medicines, daily needs and pay for hospital fees. This was the news that we gave them yesterday. Their tears of despair turned into tears of relief and thankfulness. They said they knew God had heard their prayers after all. He saw them cry.

We were able to spend a long time with this lovely family yesterday. We have come face to face with much suffering before and I could probably count on one hand the times when we have actually cried in front of people. I personally find there is a strength that takes over and allows us to focus on trying  to help rather than be consumed by emotion. For me it's when I go to the secret place and am physically away from the site that the tears flow for them. When I go and sit with God to talk about what we have seen or cuddle up beside my husband , many times its then I feel the real burden and pain of the situation.

But when I sat face to face with Mary yesterday holding her frail hand. When I felt her skinny fingers cling onto mine and saw the pain in her beautiful but sunken eyes I could not stop myself from weeping.When I saw how she was in agony trying to move her position because of the pain of her bed sores, no words came.As we watched her do her very best to take sips of the vitamin drinks but vomited most of it straight back up, I could do nothing but sit quietly.

I felt totally and utterly useless.

We all wept and prayed together calling out to Jesus to heal her. We all cried from our hearts that God would step in and fix all that needed fixing. We all thanked God that He did hear our prayers and touched the hearts of people to respond in giving quickly.

                                                       Would you pray for this family.

I'm so glad we serve a God who feels. I know His heart beats with love for Mary Chris and her family. I know he cares.

I think of my own step dad at this time. He too is suffering greatly with cancer. I am physically far away but I know my family who have watched him fight so bravely and become so frail are hurting. I'm sure they feel helpless. I do.I know God cares.

I know our God is the only one who can change these situations.I trust that He knows best.

 I think each of us are called to do everything we possibly can to help those who are suffering.Our hearts tell us its so unjust and we are compelled to act. Yet our feelings of helplessness remind us that our efforts seem so small in comparison with one touch from Jesus.Everything in our being tells us that we need Him to step in and take over.

Please God, step in and take over.

A letter from a Rose

Have you ever been going through a time where circumstances or people could potntially really discourage you and then at the perfect moment someone or something would encourage you to the very core? 

Below is a letter written from a Rose amongst the trash. It's to a group of our ministry partners from Bransgore Community Church who are sponsoring her further education in teaching.
I asked her permission if it was OK to publish her letter here. She said yes!
Today this letter lifted my spirit and reminded me that God is at work, motivated me to continue and lifted my heart to bring to mind that lives are being changed.

 

Rosemae ready for her first day at college

Hi!



My name is Rosemae S Melendres. I’m 16 years old. I live in a dump site in Tondo, Manila. I am one of the teachers in Kids Church. I’m teaching the 7-8 years old class.

When I was 11 years old Kuya Ron (big brother) and Ate Joanna (big sister) first visit to Tondo they teaching Sunday school. I'm one of the first 12 kids in the room. If you are listening to them and if you remember what they are teaching you get points every week. If you get 5 points you get a reward bag of grocery and  I always get points. Its 5, then 10 and it become 15.Ate Joanna asked me if I become her assistant in Sunday school. When I’m 12 years old I become Ate Joannas translator. I don’t know how I can translate. I only know me and Ate Joanna  pray before we start  teaching then I understand everything she say. It’s a miracle for me because I'm only 12 years old and I don’t have a dictionary or a teacher to teach me how to understand English. I know it is a blessing from God. Now I’m teaching 7-8 years old.

Before when Ate Joanna and Kuya Ron come here the first week there are only 12 children. But it become hundreds and hundreds. Now my whole family are in church. My mother is a volunteer. She cooks in the kitchen for the children and my father is guarding the church. Another miracle.

First of all I would want to thank God to giving me a sponsor and I want to say thank you to all of you who give me a chance to study in college. I thought before that I’m not going because the income of my family is not enough to college. But God is always there for me and he know that I really want to go to college and to become a successful lady. It’s not only for me but for my parents and my brother and sisters and to help the children in our community to help them know the love of God.

I don’t know how can I give back the help that you gave to me. I don’t have anything to give back. What I only have is Jesus. I pray to him all of you and to give you a good health and better life with Jesus.

God bless you and thank you very much.

 Rosemae :)

We have had the privilege of watching Rosemae grow up into a beautiful young woman who has a heart for God and a heart for people. She has been a faithful translator and I would have been lost for words (literally) on many an occasion without her. We have watched God answer her prayers for he family as they have come to know the Lord one by one.God is so good!! We are excited to see how God will shape out an amazing future for her.

Diamonds in the dirt.

When you think of a community clean up what do you envisage?

Picking up cans and empty crisp packets? Painting over graffiti?  Black bin bags stuffed with litter along the roadside? Regular stops to have a nice cup of tea and a cream bun?

That sounds like a day out compared to the meaning of a community clean up within a dump site area.I'm really not a writer so I'm finding it hard to even think of words that properly describe the physical appearance and smells within the place. I vaguely remember at some point in primary school the teacher saying to write down all the "describing words" before you start a story. I am stumped so here goes!

BLACK, THICK, TOXIC, RANCID SMELLING GOO, HUMAN EXCREMENT,LIQUID METHANE, FERMENTED TRASH LIQUEFIED, RATS-DEAD AND ALIVE, A RIVER OF TAR LIKE MUSH, A SMELL THAT CLINGS TO YOUR BODY AND CLOTHES LIKE AN UNWANTED SICKNESS, DISEASE RIDDEN SLUDGE.

This is Kuya Dodie
His "work".....
- To dive under the toxic mush with his eyes closed feel around for the trash and unblock the drainage.
As Ron told him last week- HE IS A HERO!!

I wondered before if it sounds like we are exaggerating when we talk about the infested waters in our newsletters, but they really are infested! They seep into the church hall after it has rained for any length of time. but much worse, they pour into the homes of the children. Its hard to even begin to imagine the disease in it. We have often seen the children play in it and then come to the activities with their skin actaully peeling off or discoulred.

Every few months Ron leads some of the team to help do a "clean up". The goal is to try and make the area a bit less flood proof. Garbage blocks every crevice leaving the molten liquid trash no where to go. So at least by removing as much as they can from the drainage it helps for a while. The community always get on board. There are amazing men, women and children who come out to help. It's really a team effort!

The people  who come out to wade through the muck are diamonds. Some of the kindest people I have ever met.There is a real sense of community here in spite of all the problems. When there is tragedy and crisis they pull together. This community is so resilient.They don't just pull through- they spring back! I have witnessed them experience great loss and they don't just survive- they recover. We have seen them recover from floods and typhoons where some have them have lost every earthly possession they had. We have watched them rebuild after fires have destroyed whole rows of homes in minutes. Of course they are sad and weep over these heartaches, but I can honestly say I have never heard a moan. I have never seen the complain and say its unfair, I have truthfully never heard any of them blame God. Never.

We have learned so much from them. We came to serve them and bless them. But in actual fact they bless us. They are a constant reminder of how beauty dwells where you least expect it. They are a challenge as to whether our joy is really dependent on Jesus or our circumstances.They are a reminder that we were all in a dung heap before Jesus rescued us.

Some of our overseas volunteers have described the physical place in their own way. Here are a few;

"Its like a war zone"
"Everything is grey"
"Its the closest thing to hell on earth"
"I have been to many poor areas. This is the worst i have seen"

Strong words.

And YET the people are treasures.
I think if Jesus was on earth he would sit himself down in the mud with them, talk to them, love them. I think he would stand with his beautiful feet in black liquid waste for hours and tell the the good news. I think he would  kneel down amongst the garbage and the flies to let the children climb up on him and let them touch his face with their dirty hands.

If only I could have His eyes for just one second. I wonder what words he would use to describe this community?
I wonder?