Luke 9:24

Hopefully the pictures from the streets of Manila were able to tell a lot of the story. There is certainly more to be told, but I have had a hard time sitting down to write this blog. Maybe because there seems to be so much to do after a week away(5 loads of laundry, emails galore, empty fridge, sick family) or maybe because now that I'm back in the comforts of Hong Kong there is a part of me that doesn't want to revisit the hardships that define the lives of the 5,000 squatters at our doorstep. This was my 3rd time to the Philippines and Jason's 5th. Having visited this ministry before we knew what to expect, but the suffering that accompanies poverty struck me in a new way this time. It has something to do with being a mother.
For one, I had to calculate the risk of taking Josiah at 6 months old into this setting. I knew all to well that the streets where the children played barefoot in the rivers of raw sewage were a breeding ground for cholera. We knew as well of the case of cases of dungae fever that had taken children's lives in past years. We weren't too concerned with the fact that all the orphans have TB because Josiah has been vaccinated for that (but that was a risk too). The children and adults in the neighborhood loved Josiah and kept saying "he looks like a doll!" They wanted to hold and touch his hands that go to his mouth with magnetic force. It was hard as a mother to engage the local culture, validate their value as people, and protect my son from their germs. In the end I let some women in the town hold him, smiled at everyone, and held Josiah out of little finger's reach. Josiah did catch a cold, but I knew at any moment I could be back in Hong Kong in 4 hours flat. Not so for the mother's around me.
There is one woman (beautiful woman) who I pass several times a day who lives in a house the size of a bathroom with her family of five. She paces the streets all day nursing her baby with an expression of resigned acceptance. The Bible calls us to enter into the sufferings of others. As I pass her I imagined nursing Josiah in the street because I have no rocker or crib to lay him. I try to fathom the panic of not having food or medicine to give to my sickly baby. Down the street a bit I pass another house with twin 8 months old. When I pick them up they feel like a piece of popcorn compared to Josiah. With swollen bellies and weak limbs, there mother often leaves them on the dirt floor of their house alone during the day. Sometimes the nurse from the children's home chases away the rats, scoops them up and feeds them for a while. The nurse reports that they are slowly dieing.
God calls us to be a voice for the poor, so here is my small voice telling the stories of real people that symbolize the struggles of lots of other people. It overwhelms me to think that 80% of the world lives in poverty. We want to raise our son to not think the world is about an affluent 20%, but to have a heart of compassion for social justice. For us that tipped the scales with the other risk factors in our decision to bring him. "Whoever wants to save his life will loose it. But whoever looses his life for my sake will save it."
*There is a LOT more about the trip. Maybe my amazing husband who led all the middle school kids will write his perspective later. Stay tunned.*