A Cool Photo

A few days ago, James and I were walking into IGSL around 6:30 a.m. and we saw this unusual light in the sky. Both of us commented that, because of the colors, it reminded us of a tiny version of the Northern Lights, which we have seen in Canada, but never in the tropics, and never at sunrise. It disappeared shortly afterwards. We have no clue what it was!

"They Treat Us Like We Are Valuable..."

This past week found me in Mindanao, the southernmost island in the Philippines. I went to visit one of our IGSL alumni, Mira*, who has worked there for three years among the urban poor. Their team focuses on two groups. One group is an ethnic religious minority living in Nabana*, a shanty-town near the sea. The other group is homeless families and prostitutes in the city center. The photo below is of Mira and me drinking coffee in the mall while she was orienting me to the work in both sites. I did not take photos in either of the two communities because it would have been offensive to the people there. You will just have to use your imagination.

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Nabana is about the size of an American football field, and is home to more than three hundred families. Their simple homes are made of "sawali," or woven reeds. The team uses the name "Taytayan," which means "bridge." They have an excellent relationship with Lino*, the community leader, who has invited them to work with his people. Because I was with Mira, I was warmly welcomed. Lino's wife put her arm around my waist and walked with me through the community, telling me their stories. A few months ago, a terrible fire swept through Nabana, and all but ten homes were razed in minutes. (You can imagine that dried reeds burn swiftly!) The Taytayan team was there immediately, and helped to save their few belongings. No one was seriously injured. Lino's wife told me, "The government did not respond to our cries for help. But God had mercy on us, and the Taytayan people were with us. After several days, the government sent us rice for our relief efforts. It was old and smelly. We felt so hurt -- they think that because we are poor, we are worthless. But the Taytayan team brought us the best rice they could find. They helped us rebuild our homes. They always treat us like we are valuable." Please pray for the Taytayan team to not grow weary and lose heart as they continue to faithfully live out the love of Jesus in Nabana.

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Later that night, we went to the park to visit the homeless families. When they saw Mira and her friends, the children ran to us, laughing, with arms open wide. Lots of hugs and greetings were exchanged. The parents do their best to keep their kids in school, in spite of their situation. So the Taytayan team comes to help tutor the kids, sitting in the dirt, doing reading and math. My respect for the team grew with each passing hour.

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At around 10:00 pm, we walked a few blocks to the "red light" district. We spent time visiting with the male prostitutes. They prefer the term MIST, meaning "Men In Sex Trade." Just like the kids in the park, they men warmly welcomed the Taytayan team. "They are our friends," one of the men told me, "and they care about us." The guys were young, about 20 to 30 years old. Surprisingly, I learned they are not gay. They have wives and children. They just work the streets because they can earn a living for their families this way. Minimum wage in the Philippines is about $3.00 a day if you can find a job -- but in this line of work they earn about $10.00 per client.

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Later that night, as Mira and I headed home, I cried for the MIST guys. I can only imagine what it does to their souls to sell themselves like that. I understand why they are drawn to the Taytayan team members, who treat them as valuable.

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The Taytayan people are doing some livelihood projects and income-generating projects for all the groups mentioned above, along with Bible studies for those who express interest. They see some successes and some heartbreaks along the way. But the most important task they have is glorifying God in a broken world -- that is, giving each person they meet a clearer picture of what our God is like.

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*names changed

A Life Well Lived

Today, I said goodbye to my friend, Miss Rosie Chew. She went home to be with Jesus on Friday, at the age of 82, and this afternoon was her funeral. During the service, friends shared their memories of her. She was truly an amazing lady...

She was a successful businesswoman, one of the pioneers in market research in the Philippines. She was intelligent, hardworking, straightforward, innovative, and not afraid of anyone. She never married. She poured all of her energy into her company. She treated her staff well and equipped them to be the best they could be. When she retired, she sold her company to A.C. Nielson, a multi-national frontrunner in the field. She was very, very good at what she did.

When she was in her late sixties, one of her clients shared the gospel with her. She investigated the claims of Jesus Christ, and gave Him her life. That began her second career. She brought all of her strengths (intelligence, straightforwardness, etc., etc.) into the Kingdom of Jesus. She told me once that since she didn't have children, she decided to leave a legacy in other ways. I had the privilege of watching her do it.

She became involved in several Christian organizations, including IGSL. She gave her money very generously to us. But more than that, she gave her wisdom and experience. In her own candid way, she insisted that we work smarter, not harder. She pushed us to evaluate our effectiveness. It wasn't enough to have good intentions. She wanted us to measure our impact in changing our world. She wanted to see results.

When I shared my memories today during the service, I said "I wouldn't describe her as sweet." Those who knew her laughed with me. She wasn't. She was strong. But underneath the tough exterior was one of the kindest, most compassionate people I have ever known. She was concerned about the poor. She was concerned about orphans. She was concerned about the elderly. She was concerned about pastors. That's what made her get involved in the various ministries where she gave her time and money. She looked for practical ways to improve their lives. But she also invited them to her home, gave them gifts, fed them dinner, and listened to their stories.

I got to know Rosie because of her love for pastors. She knew that pastors struggle to pay for their training, so she started a foundation to help them. For the past ten years, she provided scholarships for five pastors each year to study at IGSL. But she went so far beyond giving money. She would throw a party for her five scholarship students, several times a year, and I got to come along. Remember, this is a very wealthy woman, with many servants, living in one of the best subdivisions in the country! But she loved to cook . . . and when the students came, she would prepare her favorite recipes for them with her own hands. "Rosie's Party" was always a highlight for them.

Several months ago, Rosie was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A short time later, she called my office. She was putting her affairs in order. She was sending me a check, she said, to cover the scholarships after she was gone. The whole conversation was typical of her straightforward manner. After I hung up the phone, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. To laugh and say, "Rosie, you're so organized and practical!" Or to cry . . . because she'd soon be gone.

Rosie, thank you. Thanks for showing me how to work smarter and measure results. Thanks for showing me how to give cheerfully and generously. Thanks for showing me how to leave a legacy. Thanks for showing me that great practicality and great compassion can, and must, go together. And thanks for the great recipe for putanesca.

Yours was a life well lived. It was an honor to have you as a friend.