with few spoils in hand

One passage that particularly stood out to me during my time in the Philippines is 1 Samuel 15. It has recently come to my attention again. Here God commands King Saul to completely destroy the Amalekites -- men, women, children, livestock, everything. But Saul and his men disobey the Lord and instead take the Amalekites' king alive along with the best livestock.

This is what happens when Saul and his men return:

Early in the morning [the prophet] Samuel got up and went to meet Saul, but he was told, “Saul has gone to Carmel. There he has set up a monument in his own honor and has turned and gone on down to Gilgal.” 

When Samuel reached him, Saul said, “The Lord bless you! I have carried out the Lord’s instructions.” 

But Samuel said, “What then is this bleating of sheep in my ears? What is this lowing of cattle that I hear?” 

Saul answered, “The soldiers brought them from the Amalekites; they spared the best of the sheep and cattle to sacrifice to the Lord your God, but we totally destroyed the rest.” 

“Enough!” Samuel said to Saul. “Let me tell you what the Lord said to me last night.” 

“Tell me,” Saul replied. 

Samuel said, “Although you were once small in your own eyes, did you not become the head of the tribes of Israel? The Lord anointed you king over Israel. And he sent you on a mission, saying, ‘Go and completely destroy those wicked people, the Amalekites; wage war against them until you have wiped them out.’ Why did you not obey the Lord? Why did you pounce on the plunder and do evil in the eyes of the Lord?” 

“But I did obey the Lord,” Saul said. “I went on the mission the Lord assigned me. I completely destroyed the Amalekites and brought back Agag their king. The soldiers took sheep and cattle from the plunder, the best of what was devoted to God, in order to sacrifice them to the Lord your God at Gilgal.” 

But Samuel replied: “Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams. For rebellion is like the sin of divination, and arrogance like the evil of idolatry. Because you have rejected the word of the Lord, he has rejected you as king.” 

Then Saul said to Samuel, “I have sinned. I violated the Lord’s command and your instructions. I was afraid of the men and so I gave in to them. Now I beg you, forgive my sin and come back with me, so that I may worship the Lord.” 

But Samuel said to him, “I will not go back with you. You have rejected the word of the Lord, and the Lord has rejected you as king over Israel!” 

As Samuel turned to leave, Saul caught hold of the hem of his robe, and it tore. Samuel said to him, “The Lord has torn the kingdom of Israel from you today and has given it to one of your neighbors—to one better than you. He who is the Glory of Israel does not lie or change his mind; for he is not a human being, that he should change his mind.” 

Saul replied, “I have sinned. But please honor me before the elders of my people and before Israel; come back with me, so that I may worship the Lord your God.” So Samuel went back with Saul, and Saul worshiped the Lord...

Then Samuel left for Ramah, but Saul went up to his home in Gibeah of Saul. Until the day Samuel died, he did not go to see Saul again, though Samuel mourned for him. And the Lord regretted that he had made Saul king over Israel.  

(1 Samuel 15:12-31, 34-35)

There are several lessons I have taken from this passage. But the thing that caught my eye the first time I read it is this concept of obedience, even when the command seems small and less-glorifying to God.

I don't know Saul's real reasons for defying the Lord, but it appears to be one of pride -- he was too proud to come back from battle without anything to show for his victory, and he was too proud to believe that what God had commanded him to do would bring Him more glory than if Saul brought back animals to sacrifice to the Lord.

So Saul took matters into his own hands and disobeyed the Lord, bringing back spoils and making sacrifices to the Lord -- something that made him look better in front of the people and, perhaps he thought, made him look better before God.

The day that I read this in the Philippines, I was helping someone where needed at Samaritana, a small task in my eyes. As I looked over to see what the other volunteers were doing, I started comparing myself to them. I thought, "Why can't I be doing the task they've been given? Certainly what they're doing is worth more than what I'm doing. They'll have better stories to tell people back home. They're making more of an impact. Certainly what they're doing brings God more glory."

At that moment, I thought back to my 1 Samuel 15 reading that morning, and I saw an application: In the same way that Saul thought he knew better than the Lord, I also thought I knew better. I wasn't content in just obeying the Lord and serving where I was needed; I thought I had to be doing something better, something that would make me look better to others, something that would make more of an impact, something that would, in my eyes, bring more glory to God.

For the time, that's where my analysis of that Scripture stopped. But now I see something new in this passage.

Let me back up a bit.

As more and more people ask me how the Philippines was, I find myself becoming more and more real about it. There were so many blessings, answers to prayer and fun times on that trip. But lately, to be completely honest, it's been hard for me to find joy in that trip because, now that I've been able to take a couple steps back and look at the trip as a whole, I can see this overarching shadow of confusion, frustration and discontentment over my summer.

So the real, raw truth about the Philippines, beyond the good things I've described in my previous posts?

It was definitely a challenging and testing time, full of constant uprooting, let-down expectations (which I shouldn't have had in the first place), relational conflicts and personal insecurities. I had a hard time believing I was making any impact, and I still can't see it.

I entered each new day just hoping I was going to have some kind of breakthrough in a relationship, see some kind of calling, make some kind of tangible difference... And when the last day came around and nothing had changed, I reached a new low of discouragement.

I was expecting that God would show me why I was there, something big that would make sense of all the confusing things that happened on that trip, and when nothing was revealed that satisfied my expectations -- because He did indeed reveal things, small as they were in my eyes -- I was left confused and frustrated.

In all of it, I believe I was seeking God. I believe I did what I could do with what I was given at the time. I continually asked the Lord for patience, for a change in attitude, for an available heart, but not much changed. Looking back, I have a hard time coming to terms with this. If I was abiding in Him and trying so hard to have a good attitude and find joy in everything, why was it so difficult? Was I doing something wrong still? Why did the Spirit move so slowly to bring about change in me? Why was my heart apparently too stubborn to change?

As I tell others about the Philippines, I become discontent with the story I have. Why can't I have the story others have about their mission trips? Why is it so hard for me to get sincerely excited about my Philippines trip without all these doubts and frustrations consuming my mind?

But as I shared all this with my mom yesterday, 1 Samuel 15 came to mind again. I realized this: In the same way Saul felt like he just had to come back from battle with spoils in hand -- something to show for his victory, something to prove the accomplishment of his mission -- I felt like I had to come back from the Philippines with something tangible in hand, something to show for this accomplished mission, something big and impactful, something exciting and worth my being there (in my eyes).

My pride is getting in the way of telling the whole story. Sure, there are times when I sum up my trip and say something simple such as, "It was good, but really hard." But there are times when I try to embellish my story and only point out the good things, sometimes even exaggerating those things to drown out my doubts and frustrations.

But what is obedience to the Lord in this situation? To tell the story He's given me. And that story is full of doubts. And that story is full of frustration. It's full of unresolved confusion in my heart. It's full of unlearnt lessons. But it's also full of His grace. And it's full of His patience with me. It's full of learning new things and a familiar culture, things I forget I didn't know before this trip.

This story may not seem attractive to people. Some may get annoyed with my feelings. Some may feel like there was no point in my being there. But I am in no position to feel like I have to defend God and the story He chose to give me. Of course I made mistakes, but the Lord went before me anyway. This story is powerful, and it has meaning -- even if I think it's boring and a downer. I need to be content with not having as "pretty" a story as others do.

But we are sinners. And we are buffoons. It is not the level of our spirituality that we can depend on. It is God and nothing less than God, for the work is God's and the call is God's and everything is summoned by Him and to His purposes, the whole scene, the whole mess, the whole package -- our bravery and our cowardice, our love and our selfishness, our strengths and our weaknesses... He gives all the light we need for trust and obedience. 

--Elisabeth Elliot

seas and storms

There are no clear analogies in this collection of thoughts from a night I spent standing on the ocean shore in Boracay, Philippines. I can't discern how exactly, but somehow these thoughts to me reflect intimacy with my Lord. 

If you've ever watched the waves crash onto the shore at night, you'll know what I mean when I say it's one of the most terrifying, mysteriously beautiful sights you can experience.

All you can see are the white linings of the coming waves, one crashing then another. But beyond the smallest white lining you can see, you can see nothing. Only massive darkness. You can't even see the horizon, unless a storm lights up the sky every so often -- and even then, it lasts but a blink.

You can't discern the ocean from the sky, the earth from the heavens, it all sinks into the darkness. But you know that there is a distinction, a horizon, even if you can't see the line. And you know the ocean is huge, even if you can't see its breadth.

Sometimes at night, all you can see are the big waves right in front of you. And if something bigger and scarier were headed your way from out of the darkness, you wouldn't be able to see it coming. For all you know, the big waves could actually be tiny ripples of something far worse and much greater to come.

The ocean you can't see but know is there is deep, and it is wide, and it is unsafe, unfamiliar and mysterious. But it is beautiful, it is powerful, it is surprisingly comforting -- and it instills a fear and awe in me that makes me think: how much more should I fear and stand in awe of the Creator of this huge yet relatively small creation?

When I stand on the shoreline, water rushing past my feet as they sink beneath the sand, and I'm staring into darkness, into shadows of clouds that cover stars, into lighting that threatens to cover the night, I realize -- how small am I!

I am this tiny body standing on a long stretch of beach, bordered by this big scary ocean, contained on a small spinning sphere, suspended in one of many galaxies, floating in a boundless universe, held by the hands of an endless, all-powerful God.

Suddenly it is no longer the ocean I am captivated by, but its Maker. I am suddenly aware of the fact that I am called beauty by this same God. The same God who created this mesmerizing, terrifying sea created the inner workings of my being. The same God who stirs the terror of the sea is the same God who calmed the winds and sea a couple thousands years ago for the fright of a few doubtful disciples. And He is the same God who can calm the storms inside me.

"Deep calls to deep 
in the roar of Your waterfalls; 
all Your waves and breakers 
have swept over me. 
By day the Lord directs His love, 
at night His song is with me -- 
a prayer to the God of my life." 
(Psalm 42:7-8) 

"The sea is His, for He made it." 
(Psalm 95:5)

philippines: begging

If I thought the concept of time according to Filipino culture was awful for a structured, scheduled American like me, living by my uncle's concept of time is much worse.

First, he's a pastor, so he is a very busy man, receiving calls by the hour to visit a patient in the hospital, meet someone for dinner, see a friend's band perform, get a couple drinks with a couple he's witnessing to… It never ends, and with the desire to tend his flock and minister to the lost, he's not one to say no to a request. There really is no point in asking what our plans are for tomorrow, or for today, or even for the next hour, because plans change by the minute.

Second, he normally lives alone, so I'm sure he's not used to having someone like me who isn't used to his kind of schedule, who can't understand Tagalog, who is dependent on his plans, and has no other form of transportation or communication but to follow him wherever he goes.

Third, my frustrations stem from what is probably an exaggerated perspective because, this time, I am the only American surrounded by all Filipinos.

During my time with the Navigators, I had a difficult time learning to "go with the flow" and to be patient with not knowing what we were doing from day to day. But even then, I was with seven other Americans, most who were also struggling with this aspect of culture shock.

Whenever I was told we would leave at a certain time, we were able to ask whether they meant "Filipino time" or "American time," and they would understand because they were used to working with Americans and understood the cultural difference (generalized Filipino culture is very loose when it comes to time, often varying from half an hour to three hours late -- and that's completely normal). We would laugh about it.

I remember once we were riding in a van, and I asked if we were going straight to our destination, and I was answered yes and that it would only take two hours. But the trip ended up taking over five hours because we ended up taking like five stops for the drivers' various errands that he never announced to us, and I was frustrated by this. But at least I could vent my frustrations to my American team leader -- and he would tell me that's just part of the culture. That you can never ask someone if you are going "straight" anywhere, because their idea of going "straight" somewhere includes those errands, I suppose. I still don't understand why it's so hard to get a straight answer (pun unintended) from anyone.

But now, I am the only American, the only outsider, the only one who is driven crazy by the lack of schedule and details about what we are doing.

Even more so, I'm the kind of person who needs to emotionally and mentally process through the events of the day ahead of me in order to function. When I'm stressed, I make lists, I plan out every hour of the day on my calendar, I even cry. I need my alone time, and I don't mean just a two-hour block of time; I need a whole evening so I have time to settle into my alone time, and then slowly make my way out of it.

So with all that said, all of these cultural, occupational and personality differences stick out to me like a sore thumb, and I'm finding myself easily annoyed and frustrated with everything.

This all may seem trivial to you, but it's driving me insane. And the fact that it is is what frustrates me the most.

I'm frustrated because I thought that after seven weeks of living in this culture, I would be used to this by now.
I'm frustrated because it's so hard for me to just let go of all control, of all personal time and preference, and just submit myself as a guest in this country.
I'm frustrated because I feel like a slave to my tired body and emotions.
I'm frustrated because I'm losing sight of the things I thought God was calling me to during my time in ministry; I'm growing numb.
I'm frustrated because I feel trapped without a phone, which would have given me the ability to travel on my own every once in a while, to feel this city as I did in Manila.
And I'm frustrated because I'm not patient, gracious and strong the minute I ask God to make me so.

If anything, this experience is bringing me to my knees every second, begging God to give me His patience, to give me His grace, to give me His strength, to give me His peace. I don't think I've ever been as constantly in prayer, wrestling God for these things, as I have during this past week and as I will in the next week and a half until I return to the States.

I am constantly feeling at my weakest and shortest, which leads me to draw upon God's mercy each day. I am seeing the need to abide in Him all the more, although I can't honestly say that I'm seeing much a difference or that I can see evidence of God working in my heart as a result. Honestly, my prayers often feel empty and redundant, with no weight and no promise for an outcome.

But if I know anything about God, it is that He is faithful. And because He is my Father, I know He listens to me. And though I can't see them right now, I am committed to trusting that God is producing the fruits of the Spirit within me.

love
joy
peace
patience
kindness
goodness
gentleness
faithfulness
self-control

They are but a seed in my soul, some growing a little faster than others, but I have full confidence that they will reach full blossom under the faithful, steady hand of Jesus.

And now, as my best friend Joy reminded me to do, I want to be thankful in the midst of frustrations.

I am thankful for an uncle who is gracious enough to take me in, give me his bed, feed me, adjust his schedule for me, show me around, take me to beautiful spots, and even make me do things that make me uncomfortable because I am insecure -- but he is proud of me and confident in my abilities.
I am thankful for sights that bring back memories, for things that are so good for my soul.
I am thankful for cooler, rainy weather.
I am thankful for the opportunity to share my testimony and what God has taught me about presence here in the Philippines to the young adults ministry at the church.
I am thankful for the opportunity to see the places my Filipino family grew up in -- the neighborhood my mom and uncle would play in, the base my dad was stationed at, the chapel my parents got married in, and the school my late Lola worked at.
I am thankful for late-night talks, American snacks and falling asleep to the Olympics with a new friend.

We spent some time in one of Manny "Pacman" Pacquiao's training centers in Manila, 

watching his band practice for their concert this past Saturday, where Manny gave 

his testimony and preached the Gospel. Manny is a famous Filipino boxer, a really 

big deal here in the Philippines, and he recently accepted Christ. It was so cool to see 

him preach and share his life with so many people in the Araneta Center, a large 

coliseum in Manila (which my uncle says my Lolo helped build!). Unfortunately 

I didn't get to meet him because he left right away, but we did have VIP seats

up front during the event because my uncle is friends with Manny's pastor!

With the young adults at Clark Field Baptist Church, the church my uncle pastors. 

I shared my testimony and experiences here in the Philippines with them and hung 

out with them for the afternoon. We had lunch together, in the style of a 

"boodle fight," in which the food is served on a bunch of banana leaves 

on a long table, we eat with our bare hands and it's ever many for himself as

far as how much food you get, haha. I think I'll stick with utensils in the future...

On the drive into the mountains on our way to Subic! My uncle took me 

and the lady drummer of his band (Pescadores), Lash, to spend a night 

at the Venezia Hotel in Subic. Lash is a year older than me, and it was

nice having another girl about my age to hang out with! 

Enjoying the nightlife of Subic, getting a drink, watching a 

band play and playing pool while the storm raged on.

Camayan Beach in Subic. We ate brunch at an 

outdoor restaurant right on the shore as it rained.

On Monday, I went with my uncle and a few of his friends to visit the Badjaos 

on the riverside. One of the men with us was inspecting the community to see 

what their biggest needs were, assessing that they needed their own water pump 

for clean water. The Badjaos are called the "people of the sea." According to my 

uncle, they used to live in houses on the sea, making their business in fishing. 

But they were harassed by pirates and moved to land, living close to the water. 

But the river that this community lives by, the Sacobia River, is too small to 

sustain themselves. But they don't steal. The most decent thing they can do is 

beg, and as a result, they are looked down upon. Because of the discrimination 

in the Philippines, many have migrated to Malaysia or Indonesia.

As they inspected the community, I walked around, taking pictures.

The kids swarmed around me, wanting me to take pictures of them.