First Encounter of the mosquito-y kind

The other night (Thursday night, to be exact) I had a "first encounter". I was walking to the mall, a mere 1.1km away from the house, when a voice came out from the darkness saying "hello!". A Filipino man emerged from the darkness, chewing leaves, spitting red juice virtually everywhere. He had a jacket on and for some reason I could see his breath (it was 76 degrees out). He asked me if I was American in Sibuhano and I thought to myself "heck yeah, I get to practice!" So I answered back to him that yes, I was American. He asked me if I lived around here and I told him the name of our street, right around the corner. He asked me how long we had been here and I was able to tell him one month, but it was at point that I realized that he didn't even speak Cebuano, he was speaking something else, a tribal language of some sort. I asked him in Cebuano if he spoke English and he said a little. That made the conversation flow. After he asked me about my job in America (hahaha) I told him I worked here in the Philippines with churches, and I got to ask him if he was a Christian....no was the response, he was a Muslim. My heart both started to get really excited and really nervous at the same time. Excited because I was about to "do it" about to drop the Jesus-mic on this guy, and nervous because I have heard not very nice things about Muslims from some parts of the Philippines*. We started talking about converts to Islam, and I didn't know a one that he mentioned, some big name pastor from Manila apparently converted to Islam but I didn't know who he was talking about. He then asked me how my church calls me to prayer, and I got to respond with, well, it doesn't, Baptists typically believe that we are to be praying at all times, and that there is no set prayer time, our lives are supposed to be nothing but prayer. He told me that Islam was true, the Koran was all truth and the Bible was full of lies and that I needed to convert to Islam. I responded that my soul hungers and thirsts for nothing but Christ, and with Christ I have everything, no matter if I have "dili balay, dili pagkaon, dili tubig" (no house, no food, no water in bad Cebuano). Without Christ, I have absolutely nothing, and with Christ, I have "pulos" (Everything, still bad Cebuano). He told me that he wanted to look at the Koran together, as I mentioned something about it saying that everyone who does not follow the words of Jesus go to hell, and he would get me an English copy of the Koran so we could look at it. His name is Salah, please pray for him and our next few encounters, we exchanged phone numbers and hopefully we will be able to talk again!

The mosquitoes were AWFUL that night, being a little bit after 12 hours of straight rain. I might now have some sort of tropical disease, but probably not.

I know that was mostly stunted, rambling dialogue, but I really wanted to share this little event with you guys who read the stuff we put out and ask that you guys pray for Salah, he definitely wants to follow God, but he just doesn't know that we don't have to work for our salvation, that we can rest in the one who is not only the Prophet, but the Priest, and the King, and rest in what He has done for us, so that we don't have to try to present our filthy rags before the throne of God on the Last Day in hopes that they will be enough for Eternal Life. Pray that Salah comes to know that Jesus is more than just a prophet, He is the culmination and reason for everything we do.

Thanks.

*Recognizing that not every Muslim is "extremist" and out to kill every Christian they run into, some parts of Mindanao are not safe for Christians for that very reason.

Visas,Flights, and Mice (Oh my!)

This has been a pretty busy week for us. Being that we have been here almost exactly one month that means one thing: our tourist visas are expiring. When we where flying out of LAX we found out that we had to have a residency visa already since we had one way tickets, this meant that we needed flights booked so we could leave the Philippines , just to enable us to enter it to begin with! Brian Lamb and Jordan Martin got us set up (thanks again guys!), and so we had tickets booked for when our tourist visas expired going to Hong Kong and back, which is something a lot of missionaries do here to avoid the expense of a long term visa. So this week I had the responsibility of getting our tourist visas extended while we start working on getting our long term visas done and rebooking our flights. Monday morning I went early(ish) to the airport so that I could get to the airline counter and change the flights, all going like clockwork until he needed the passports to make photocopies of them. Oops, left them at home because (for some stupid reason) I figured that they would have all our passport numbers and info right in front of them when they pulled up our flight. They did have that, but the guy wanted copies of them for some reason or another. So get on a taxi back home, get all five of the buggers and get a taxi back to the airport. Get the process going again and....that counter doesn't take cards, cash only. The rebooking of the flights was about 35 thousand pesos (about $700), and we were just not able to get that much cash on hand quickly. So I had to get on another taxi and go back into town to another airline office. This time no taxis were there, except one guy who knew he had me. I was flustered, getting tired, and just trying to not have to get on a plane on Thursday, and somehow, he saw pesos signs over my eyes because dude got me for a "special trip" into town for 200 pesos, should have been at most, 20 and man I knew that but I just didn't care at that point.

So I finally get to the other office, and there is this older British fellow yelling at the ladies behind the counter about a flight that he had booked that was canceled without him knowing or being told about it a week before the flight was scheduled to happen and he and his brother showed up at the airport to find out that they should have been notified by someone about the cancellation. He was understandably upset about the whole thing, and taking it out on the girls behind the counter about people lying to him. Half an hour later, when he had finally left, I got up there, tried to be as nice and polite as I could, got the flight set up, and when the lady looked at our passports she added some special Philippine something or other blah blah tax (200 bucks). Why? Because our visas were expiring, so we needed to assure the government that we would not be illegal immigrants when we returned to the country. Fine. Whatever. I will trudge over to the Immigration office and see if I can get that taken care of quickly. Luckily the office was not very far. I got there and the lady behind that counter, well her eyes got very big when she saw how many passports I had (obviously not just one, but five) and told me that she needed applications filled out, pictures of all of us and almost 16 thousand pesos. Defeated, I walked out with the feeling that I did not have a whole lot of time to get all this done. So I got on a taxi and on my way home the taxi stopped right in front of a computer store that I needed to go into to see if they could take a look at our computer real quick.

Our teacher Mimi let us out of class early that day so we could go to one of the malls here and get some pictures made. With the cash in hand, the applications more or less filled out, and the pictures we all went over to the Immigration office and it was closed for the day. So we walked on down the street a bit and tried a Chinese chain restaurant here (spoiler: it was delicious).

I was up and out by 8.30 that next morning with Sophia and Rosie with all of the aforementioned paraphernalia in the last ditch attempt to get our visas extended and our flights rebooked. 20 minutes after getting there BOOM all five of us had extended visas! Out on the street and a few minutes later we were back in the airline office trying to get that done. It was a slow process, and Sophia (of course) was best friends with the other lady behind the counter before we were done. Because of when our extended visas expired we could not book the flight for when we wanted unless we payed that blah blah tax, which I had no plans of doing. Ok, so the middle of March? Fine. 3.5% for card use? Fine. BOOM! REBOOKED! Oh what's that a recap? Sure. Then the bomb drops, after being led to believe that we would fly from Butuan to Manila and Manila to Hong Kong all in one day (total I think its like 4 hours in the air) I'm told that oh no, we have a 22 hour layover in Manila.....and oh yeah, it would cost roughly $200 more to move it one day, even though I would never have paid for that otherwise. no refunds, no rebooking "I'm sorry I messed up" coupon, accept it or pay.

We are going to try to use that day in Manila to get our residency visas done...maybe.
But I was able to get it all done. Barely.

Wondering about the "mice" from the title? The other night one of the girls new friends rolled up to our house holding something and it turned out she was holding a little baby mouse. It was so new it's eyes were still closed. Sophia and Aaryn got to hold the mouse, and it was duly passed around to all the kids, multiple times, and it died that night, in front of everyone (the nerve of some mice) and the kids simply through it in the field across the street.

Oh my.

And the ants go marching on

So, as many of you who are following our little adventure know, we have ants here. They are in our house. They are pretty much wherever they want to be in our house, whenever they want to be there. We will be walking through the house, or the girls will be going up stairs, or we will be sitting down to eat, or going to the bathroom, or sitting and watching Hi-5 (Australian Disney show) and we will look up and see a red line of terror winding it's way down the wall, to the floor, to wherever there is any small crumb that was missed sweeping or recently dropped by a two year old. Gang, these little dudes are hard to kill. Not only will they scoot their line a few inches from where we just sprayed and continue their march of perpetuity, they are like Texas fire ants, but without the long burn. We have been told by another missionary family here that the battle against this foe is never won, never finished.
Now hear me: I do not mean to complain, God has blessed our family with an awesome house, and the insect issue could be worse (much, much worse; think flying two inch roaches worse). This is just part of being here in the Philippines. In a way, it could be viewed as a sort of odd bonding experience that God is using to show our family that we fight whatever biting, stinging issues that trail into our family, and we do so together, warning each other and helping each other out. Maybe this is a team building exercise for us. Maybe this is a metaphor for spiritual warfare. Maybe God will use the ants to push us to make connections to find out local ways of dealing with them (we've been told pouring gasoline around the outside of your house daily is effective)Or maybe it's just ants 😁. Any way we slice it, God is good, and even if the flying roaches decide to invade our house, we will *try* to praise God, even when they decide to bite.

Why? Because the Philippines

There are so many things that we could ask why about. Why do people think it's okay to just walk up and grab my child by the hand? Why are there ants in my bed? Why is there no running water when its been raining for two days straight? Why is the park concrete?

We've been asking a lot of these questions since arriving in the Philippines. One local said, "You ask why, but it is just because the Philippines." What he meant is, that is just the way it is in the Philippines. But we kind of liked his answer and it has become a slogan that Jeff and I use now when we are asking these Why questions to ourselves. Why? Because the Philippines. That's why!

Hello Humility

Pride. It's sneaky and sly and sneaks up behind you waiting to snare you when, and where, you least expect it.

This isn't the first time that I've lived overseas, away from all things familiar. This isn't the first time that I've lived in a developing country. This isn't the first time that I've been emersed in a different language and culture. And because this isn't my first time, I thought that I was prepared and knew what to expect. I thought that I would settle in without the slightest bit of culture shock and just adapt to the new way of life that I was anticipating. Little did I know, but that I've-got-this mentality was Pride, slowly tightening it's grip.

And then it happened. I was asked to cook a meal and host people in my new home. Any one who knows me, knows that I like to cook for people. And those who REALLY know me, know that I act like I don't like hosting, but deep down, I love it. The pressure (that I put on myself) to make things perfect for our guests, the fast pace in the kitchen and calculated timing to make sure each dish is hot and ready at the appropriate time, and of course the suspense, waiting to see if I get the house clean on time (of if I'll be throwing things in the the closet at the last minute to get them out of sight)...in a way hosting is like an action packed thriller. Not only do I secretly enjoy it, but if I were being really and truly honest, I'd say it is something that it is one of the few things that I think that I am good at.

So we've been in our new home in the Philippines all of two and a half weeks, and I'm trying to host new friends, and apparently Humility would be joining us for dinner.

I started with my usual routine, exactly like I would have done it in America. Step 1: Plan the meal. I chose one of our favorites. It is something I used to make all the time in the States, one of the girls favorites, and super easy, because why stress myself out with something complicated, right?! Crock-Pot Chicken Tacos.
Step 2: Grocery shop. I made my list for things and was pretty sure we'd be able to find everything. Chicken, check. Seasoning, check. Onions and bell peppers, check and check. Cheese? Um, well, you don't technically need that. Tomatoes? Really? No tomatoes? Okay...get canned ones at the import store. Tortillas? I was pretty sure I could make those. I mean, its basically just flour and water, right?
Step 3: Cook and clean simultaneously. What's that horribly shrill sound? Oh, that's just Rosie demanding to be held...every. single. second. Long story short, we were going with the 'lived in' look for the kitchen and living room. And as for cooking, I don't know if you've ever made homemade tortillas, on a gas burner with basically only one heat setting, while trying to also feed a screaming baby. Maybe you have and you rocked it. I rocked it also...if rocking it means making tortillas that are as hard as rocks. Ok, so tortillas were off the menu. It was ok though, because chicken tacos without tortillas is still Mexican chicken, and Jeff found canned black beans at the import store! But it didn't take long to realize that for canned black beans, I would need a can opener, which I did not. So it was time for another menu change, but too late to go to the store or market for more food.

It was about that time that panic set in. What would these new friends think of me? A wife that couldn't keep the house clean. A mother of 3 children that looked like they were being raised in the Philippine jungle by bearcats...dirty faces, wild hair, no pants, and uncontrollable crying. A hostess that couldn't prep a decent meal for her guests. That's when Humility came knocking at the door.

I'm not sure who invited Humility to my own personal pity party, but (as painful as it was) I sure am glad. Humility came with a reminder. 'Remember when you were sitting with Jeff, across from Nic Hill, at your kitchen table in Fort Worth and he said, "it doesn't matter what I think or what anyone else thinks." Remember that you aren't here so that people can think well of and make much of you. You are here to make much of God."

Pride is an ugly beast waiting around to snare us, but it's like the monster in Frankenstein. It is a monster that I created, when I started trying to make much of myself instead of trying to make much of God, and it has come back to destroy me. Thankfully though, Humility came as a messenger to remind me of my place, and that I have a Savior who will and has rescued me.

That Savior is Jesus Christ. All my failures and weaknesses are made so completely obvious in light of His perfection and strength. He is why I am here.

Lately when Sophia and I are doing homeschool, I've been telling her to do her best work, not to make herself look good, but to glorify the Lord. It's a lesson that I need to remember. In all things, in the States and overseas, my goal needs to be to glorify the Lord.

"So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all for the glory of God." 1 Corinthians 10:31 ESV

I bought a fan!

We have been here in the Philippines for almost two weeks, and during that time we have had to make a few big purchases, like Hollie buying a couch/chair set, and us buying a washer the day we landed. We have, for the most part, set up our house how we need it. One thing to know about the Philippines is that it is hot and humid here. Being close to the equator, that makes sense, but when you come from a temperate climate with central AC and it's winter when you are moving to a tropical island when it's the rainy season and you only have two little aircons in the entire house....you notice the change in the heat and you feel that humidity.
So I did something about it. I bought a fan. That simple sentence might not seem like much, but for anyone who has experienced this kind of humidity, that oscillating cool breeze is like a godsend.