A Resume, A Retreat & A Realisation

So whilst I struggle with the photos of my dirty room/some camera difficulties, here's a little bit of news of things happening in my world.

Resume isn't really the right word, but it was the only way of somewhat keeping meaning whilst filling out the title. Whatever. Youth Vision last week approved my application to become a sponsored Youth Ministry intern at my church. That means I can get paid to do what I love doing, as well as take on some youth ministry study under ACOM, to help me better myself personally and in leadership mad-skillz. This is an answer to some of my prayers lately, as I've been seeking how to chase God and better my relationship with him and others, and get past the annoyingly necessary need for jobs and money to help me get by without leeching off my parents.

The first retreat for Vetamorphus was last weekend. It was a great time away, a very healthy space for real conversations. I told the girls that we have this year (CW, BC, and LD - all champs, also the most easily distracted people ever) that I loved the space we were in, where people could have real conversations with strangers and skip through all the crap that might normally occur when meeting someone. The focus of the weekend was on getting to know your Bible (and so getting to know God better). It was good stuff, as I and so many others constantly need reminding, encouragement and help in exploring the many messages in that old book.

From this retreat, came my realisation. I was interviewed as an ex-student, now leader, on the retreat. I was asked about where I was at coming into Vetamorphus, how it affected me, and where I'm at now. It was after reflecting on this that I had my massive realisation. A few years ago, I prayed one of those prayers you pray when everything's turned to poo. The sort of desperate, pleading, pathetic prayer, where I actually got on my knees, in the dark, and prayed for a long time. I asked for my life to change, for me to become a better person, for social justice to become something I cared about more than trying to impress people (or more like, for God to help me as I attempted to make caring about others part of my life). Lots of stuff. It was long, intense, and a time when I genuinely was relying on God. Four years on, I am working in ministry; I love making people and serving them my priority; I am passionate about social justice; I struggle constantly with my faith and God, but it makes my life more worthwhile. My prayers have been answered, and I'm in a massively good place at the moment. Just happier, less stressed. I still know that life has ups and downs, but I'm happy to sit and reflect and work through the downs until the good times happen again.

I'm in such a great space and I'm very grateful that I'm in it. God's been good to me and it makes me want to be good to others.

Tomorrow's Explanation

You know some mornings you wake up are suddenly inspired to do something? I woke up this morning very excited about life. I've been awake one hour and already have done some things that will hopefully leave my life in a better state.

Also, this week, not so much by coincidence or even intention as laziness/busy-ness*, marked one month since my last blog. So much for tomorrow. But here is some window into what I was thinking when I wrote "In The Field...".

Since returning from the Philippines, my mind had been in some state of unrest. I'd been thinking a lot about what I'm doing with my life, how I'm living, what I believe, how that translates into my actions, etc. More and more I was finding that the things I believe, especially about love for the poor and the way Jesus lived, were not well represented by the way I live. It is one to thing to do charity, but charity alone, as with anything, is not enough or anything without love**. Sometimes what I do is because I love, but sometimes it comes out more like a guilt reliever.

So I felt restless. Restless because of these realisations, but also because of something else in the back of my mind. For the entire time I've been talking, protesting, fundraising, advocating about poverty and change, I've felt uneasy. Slowly, I've begun to realise that, at least for me, what I am doing has something to do with my faith, but my faith has something to say about the way I'm doing it. Acts of charity are good, and they do good, but I always felt like there had to be more. Like it wasn't enough for me to raise money and still live the way I do. I feel like it's too easy in my life, too comfortable - and now I'm uncomfortable with the comfort. My grand visions of how to save the world, how to fix things, became me starting to think about just leaving here, going to live with the poor. However, this would require me giving up so much comfort - that I'm sure, at least for the beginning, I would miss - but also leaving my ministeries here and causing a strain on the relationships I have - friends, family, K. So for a long time, I had been trying to ignore this back of the head thought. But now I was confronting it, and this is the point where God spoke to me in the field.

Do not be afraid. I was terrified of what I was thinking. Terrified that it seemed that not only could I not ignore the call (excuse double negative), but that I was starting to dream of following it. Terrified of what God might be asking of me. Terrified of the unknowns I might be taken too. But I was reminded in the field that faith, hope and love and the three greatest things***, and that if I really have those things, I should go and know that I'd be ok. To some, I can imagine that sounds like a completely ridiculous idea.

Amaze. Because of doing things like ministry and Africa Aid, and loving them, I speak about them a lot. Some of my friends, or even people I meet, sometimes react in such a way: "Oh wow, you're doing so much for so many people! You're amazing!" Don't be mistaken, I like praise. Everyone does. However, when you start to look for praise or act because you know people will admire you, you became fake, unhealthy and a general loser. I felt like I was heading down that path. One of my friends regularly calls me Superman. Their partner, who I've never met but knows of me, calls me Jesus. Neither of these titles I deserve. In the field, God reminded me that the glory I might bring to him through the love I bring to people is far greater than any glory I might receive from people. That I should love in a way that is discreet and not self-seeking, but that will be glaringly loud through my life.

Turn your back. Like I said, I was thinking about leaving. This was about me understanding that there are people that very much need love here too. Poor in money, poor in possessions, but also poor in love. That applies to both people of wealth and none. I don't think this was so much a discouragement from going to the poor, as a reminder that I should honour and cherish the people I have here, instead of take them for granted.

Fix. I wrote before that I was dreaming about fixing the world. Changing it. Well, perhaps it is not the world that needs fixing, or maybe I'm in no position to do this until I start inspecting the woodwork in my eye. God was telling me to explore, share in life with people everyone - my house, my church, my community, my uni, my country, my world. That this might be a more powerful way of bringing love to people than having meetings and making spreadsheets and setting monetary targets. I am not an agent sent to the world to fix it. I am a member of this world, this massive community, and should participate as such.

Beauty. Again. Love. Take it to people. Give them it. If they don't, help them see their beauty.

Go. Get out of your shell, comfort. Get out of the field now. Go do life.

* There really should be a word 'busy-ness', because it's a better conveyor of what I mean than 'business'.

** 1 Corinthians 12:31-13:13

*** 1 Corinthians 13:13

Brother Jimwell

Today is Blog Action Day - an online effort of (at point of writing) over 9,000 bloggers to discuss important global issues. This year, the issue is poverty. So in light of that, apart from encouraging any of you with blogs to get involved, I would like to share a story from the Philippines that both broke my heart and inspired me.

There are many heartbreaking stories, all around the world. What makes me want to hear more of them is knowing that in so many there is still light and hope. Don't get me wrong. I'm not wanting to be a junkie that gets off on other people's misery or some sense of gratitude I get because I know my life's better. And I don't want to downplay the fact that there is a lot of negative in the lives of these people - that's a fact, and I will never know what it's like to deal with those problems. Someone, and I can't remember who, once said that we (as privileged members of the minority, of the affluent, developed world) will never truly know what it is like to be poor. Back to the point, this story is about a young man with so many hardships in his life (none of which were brought on by him) that has still, or perhaps because of them, turned out to be an amazing individual. This is the story of my experience with Kuya (Brother) Jimwell.

I met Jimwell during the week and a bit we spent with Pastor Raffy and his community in Cumadcad. Pastor Raffy is the pastor of the church and community that our church sponsors. He was just another one of the boys at the church - friendly, smiled a lot, and eager to help us foreigners all the time - whether it was carrying water for us, helping package food for the feeding missions, coming along to the feeding missions and making sure everything was ok for us. We were looked after very well.

My perceptions, or understanding, of Jimwell changed massively when MW and I went to stay with Jimwell overnight. He lives in a tiny house, actually smaller than my kitchen, right next to the police station on the main street. It is loud and noisy there - when we rocked up the cops were having a blast at the karaoke place right next door. The house is dark, cramped, unfinished. The roof has had some of its many holes covered up with street signs and thrown out cardboard. There are roaches everywhere. Jimwell lives in this house with his grandmother Vergie and 8 year old cousin Genesis. They also own the place next door, which they rent out to a bakery. Vergie's brother lives at the back and he has terminal cancer.

So, a bit about Jimwell. He is 18 years old and was studying business in his second year of college. He is the product of rape and has never met his father. He has a step brother (or half brother, I'm not sure of the details) in Germany*. His mother was the one who supported their family, until she told him two years ago that if he wanted to remain in college, he would have to support himself. One year later, she disappeared with all the savings. Jimwell says she has gone to live with the step brother in Germany; and that even though he writes to her every month, she has cut off contact. As a result of the mum shooting through, Jimwell chose to drop out of college in order to support his family. He loved college and told us how much he values education. He is bright too - and had to reject a scholarship to study, because he had to support Vergie and Genesis. I can't help but feel guilty that he wants to study so much, would give anything to be able to... and I can't be bothered writing my essays for Uni.

* Vergie was so happy - to the point of tears - to see MW, because according to she and Jimwell, MW is the spitting image of the step brother in Germany. I can understand MW looking a bit German...but not Filipino as well. In any case, it made them really happy.

Kuya Jimwell.

We found out that the next morning, Jimwell would be going off to Subig, to work. He works on a shipyard there for at least 9 months of the year. It is 12 hours away from his home and he is allowed a week of leave for every there months. He chose to take his week early, just because our team was going to be at his church - and he wanted to help us. (He is also the youth minister at the church - and manages to organise events and groups for them, despite being so far away most of the year.) Jimwell told us that more than 1800 people work on the shipyard - all poor and trying to make some money. People get injured or even die all the time there, since there are no safety regulations or equipment. Jimwell is the youngest on the worksite. He stays at in a boarding place with many other workers. His working day (which is everyday, as he works weekends for extra money) is from 3am to 10pm. For all that, he earns just under $30 a week - below minimum wage here. Nobody I know has to work that many hours everyday of the week for such small pay. The fact that $30 can support the family is amazing. It forced me to think about how far my money can go. So many of us complain about not having money to do things like go out, etc.. but he doesn't even complain about having just enough to survive. Vergie attempts to help out by selling ice candies... but they bring in 20 pesos a week (less than a dollar) and she has to sell them out of somebody else's fridge, because she can't afford one.

This is only part of Jimwell's story. I don't know much more and I can't do justice through writing to the things he told us and the things we saw. My heart broke though from hearing his story, from seeing their situation and from knowing that it was out of their hands. I felt guilty that they were so hospitable - that they gave up the single bed they own and share for us, that they made sure we were comfortable while they slept on the floor or shared a couch, that Vergie had been saving and spent the money on a nice breakfast for us. They couldn't eat when we ate, because the table was only big enough for M and I to sit at.

The morning spread: Suman and ibus (different rice) with condensed milk, tea, and meats.

Jimwell's story, however, isn't one of just sadness and hardship. Though they have played a great role in life, they have helped create an amazing, caring, incredible young man. He has incredible faith in God. He thanks God for his life, he prays constantly for his family, his mother, his father, his brother. For an outsider, it's very easy to focus on the hardships in his life. For Jimwell, they are life, so he moves on and focuses on how he can help people - the youth, the church, our team, his family. Something I was blown away by in the Philippines was how strong people's convictions in God were. How passionate their worship was. How deeply they desired to journey with God. And how much this contrasted to my position - an often apathetic Christian, who struggles to feel connected to worship - just because I don't have the energy or don't like the words - who has trouble even talking about God, let alone trusting in God. Something I had to learn hard in the Philippines was that I, we, nobody can do everything, or help everyone. Nobody can save anyone. We can help to a point, but when it comes down to it, there are a lot of things that are out of our hands, and we have to trust that God will look after those. We couldn't feed everyone at the programs and that was hard. We can't help Jimwell and the family through all their problems and that is hard too. We can't elevate the Philippines completely out of poverty, nor can we solve all the cultural problems that lead to it. Those are things we must trust God to look after. Jimwell, and many other Filipinos, seemed to understand this.

There is much, much more I want to write. This post has just kinda happened as I typed; and I whilst I know it is not well articulated, I don't feel like I can go back and change it anyway. I hope that if you are interested, you'll come talk to me personally. But most of all, I encourage you to take your opportunities to meet these people - because Jimwell's story is one like so many others and it has taught me so much. Jimwell taught me a lot about my relationship with God, with my family, about my desire to serve others, that to truly serve definitely does not require a title or role, and many other things. Who knows what you might learn for yourself or about yourself?

I'll continue to pray for Jimwell, his family, and the Philippines because that's another thing I've been working on, that the importance of has been reinforced to me. I look forward to going back one day and meeting my brother again.

Brothers M, Jimwell, B & Jonathan.

Vocation

I've been doing a lot of reading lately, as part of my new attempt at scheduling in TAWG (Time alone with God) in my life, amongst other things. One of the things that keeps coming up is vocation. Now I like to think that I'm pretty sure what I want to do with my life - and that's work out who I am and what it means to live how God intended me to. I don't stress heaps over what job I'm going to end up in, and that hasn't bothered me for a long time. Of course, there are jobs I would like to do, but ultimately, it's because of what I think my vocation in life is.

I feel called to give up things for others, to serve others and be lower than them. I feel that's just the way it should be for me. I feel a particular pull towards issues of poverty and injustice, and feel like I not only should, but can, and was meant to be doing something about that. Not solving it, but adding my effort. I don't want to be defined by my actions, but by the motives I had to do them. Sometimes I do get a case of the 'wanting attention for doing good stuff', but I mostly do it because I want to show love and care.

Where am I going with all this? Well, the people who's vocations I've been reading about scare me in how far they threw themselves in the deep end. People like Rosa Parks or Mother Teresa. The latter is the one I read today. At the age of 18, she got the feeling that she should be doing something with the poor, and she was called towards India. So she left her family - never to see her mother again - and just moved. She didn't even speak the language or have any training. Then after living in the nunnery, she decided it was time for the next step, and moved to the streets. She did things nobody else in the church would do, like begging for clothes, medicine, money, all to give to the poor ones around her. How do you have that much faith that God is telling you something? That what you think you're hearing is right? What if you're wrong?

I feel called to the poor. I still feel like I'm not doing enough. At Surrender last year, I was really challenged because we were hearing from people who have given up everything to go be with the poor and live like them, in order to help them side-by-side. I felt I was so far away from this, because I still worry about clothes and other material things, and spend my money carelessly. I was challenged once again on Sunday, when at Vetamorphus we were discussing why Jesus spoke so much about wealth and money. I think it was because he knew how much humans would obsess over it, and that it would be a major obstacle in them coming to know him. The passages that have always been confronting are ones like the Rich Young Man, when he's told to give up everything, or the man who keeps a little bit for himself instead of giving it to the apostles to distribute as needed, and ends up dying. What does this say about how I'm supposed to live?

If my vocation dictates (as far as I can tell), that I am to help the poor, I think I need to break free of the shallowness and humiliation (on my behalf) of having to stop living the way I live, and using my money wiser and only as needed, and use the rest to help others. It's extreme. It means I won't be able to do lots of things I'd like to do personally. I don't know where to draw the line and it's scary. I don't know how to have that much faith in something. It's something that I've become so good at procrastinating over, I barely think of it, until that once in a while that it comes back and hits me in the face. Each time it's stronger, and this time it's massive. So where to from here? I have no idea. Feel very, very confused at the moment. I am inspired though, and even if I don't go to that extreme (yet), I can start making smaller steps towards getting there.

Beach Mission '08

Well I'm back from my second year at Peninsula (formerly McCrae*) SUFM. Just as with last year, and most things of this nature, there are some really great bits and some really big challenges.

For pretty much the whole year, I haven't been sure why I would go back to mission, apart from the very weak reason that I didn't want to be 'soft' and quit after just one year. For the last month leading up to mission, I just was really reluctant to even think about it. In the final week before, I still didn't want to go.

The mostly negative feelings were there for the first half of mission. I think I was even going out of my way to find reasons to not like being there. I definitely had some struggles that weren't just self-inflicted, and some of these were the same as last year. Personality clashes are something that come with working in any team. I think, being the idealist that I am, that it gets to me more because we're meant to be living in a 'Christian community', but still can't get it right. I know that that's a very naive thing to think. You just seem to forget that when you are not thinking properly about it.

On one of the days in the middle, I hit the point of getting past all the rubbish and starting enjoying myself, and working out better ways to face the challenges. There was one day when JV and I were just play fighting against all the little boys and then some of the ones who were in my small group last year arrived and were really excited to see me and remembered me. That was an encouraging moment, which was also followed by a great teens program that night.

I feel that teens was a good move for me. I got the feeling the day after last year's mission that if I was to get more out of, and more importantly, give more to mission, I would be better suited for teens. I'll tell that story in another blog. There were four of us leaders, and we made a great connection with one teen in particular, but had quality interaction between all the teens over the time we were there. The real challenge for us is to make sure it's not all lost and forgotten about for the rest of the year.

Another thing that I really enjoyed about mission this year is the structure and organisation of each day. My usual day is extremely unorganised and I do things mostly at random. It was really good to schedule in things, especially specifically making time for God. I loved being forced to read the Bible everyday and having alone time (in which I would do physical things, as a balance for the 10 days of spiritual things). I want to try and make myself be more organised this year, and in doing so, make many aspects of my life healthier. On a physical level, I was worried how my skin would react to mission, since it was 10 days of stress and heat - things that usually flare me up - but it actually improved there, and I think it was partly to do with being organised and knowing exactly what I was doing at all times, and having scheduled time for myself or for relaxation or reflection.

That's about all I can spew from my head at the moment. Tomorrow I'm going to being my trying to be organised. There is some more stuff that I will write about later this week. Peace.

* It should be spelt McRae. Or McRay.