Softening

Hi there,
Early, early in the morning - the neighborhood rooster here is a real 'up and at im' sort of bird. I have woken thinking about last Saturday.

I believe that last Saturday my heart was broken. It was not a breaking that left me in despair, or incapacitated - but one in which I both grieved and hoped, and in the clarity of both, I saw what I was not, and who God was. I kept thinking of that prayer (I am not sure who wrote it) "Lord, let my heart be broken with the things that break your heart".

Honestly, I usually resist that prayer, but last saturday love broke down my resistance.

So it was my first meeting at the church - seeing the building and meeting three of the faithful - those who have been in prayer for a long time already around this seminar. Pastor L.J. showed me around the church - it is a spacious place, and much love has been poured into it over the 80 years that it has been here. It is 5 stories high with permanant residences in it for some of the Reverends and temporary lodgings for people like me! Then Amanda and Leonida arrived, and we sat together.

These three told me about the history of the church - it is a church that has daughtered 13 churches and some of those have daughtered churches as well. Two generations of sharing the gospel here. They told me of the many programs, outreaches and workings; they introduced me to some of the 15 pastors and 4 Reverends here. And then they began to share their heart - and here, I heard of great longing and deep weariness, I heard of a difficult 10 years, a sense of caution and some lack of peace. I heard of a church that has been waiting, waiting for so long. We prayed and in the midst of the honesty,tears and longing, my heart grew tender.

Amanda lives on the same street as the church, and after the meeting, she invited me into her home. We walked down the street -so much happening on the street - and she told me stories of her history here, and more of the church - the church runs an elementary school, and a high school, further down the block. I was finally in her home. I laughed with joy to be actually physically standing in her room. It is a gift to be invited in - I felt blessed and felt a sense of vulnerability. My tenderness expanded. Then it was time for me to travel back to the guesthouse.

Much of life happens here on the streets. Literally. In the midst of rush hour, where three lanes of traffic become four (or five) friends are greeting each other, errands are happening, sellers are hawking their wares (to those in the cars), children are playing, dogs are managing to stay out of the way but as close as they can to the action (read food), trucks are being unloaded, a chapel sits in the middle of the road dividing two lanes. Jeepneys stop on a dime wherever they are to let passengers out or take on new ones and bikes or trikes edge into whatever space will have them for the moment, in order to get ahead. Everyone is watchful in the midst - and there is an intricate accompanying language, using hand signals, car movement and horns that blurs the hard lines on the road.

So this day, it was a long drive home - I had much time to reflect, often with tears in my eyes, on my heart's tenderness; wondering what I was called to and more readily, grieving what I was not called to.

I arrived home in time to have dinner with a couple at the guesthouse, who I found out, were expecting their first child. The mom-to-be is older and was anxious with some questions. She had been looking for someone to talk to. In the course of our discussion it was hinted that I needed to come to Bagio with them for a month or two and stay to help! Of course that is impossible, but I hoped that I was able to offer some comfort and calm some fears. And again, it was a case of seeing but not taking on. This action of birthing, being present to, how does it happen here? I wondered again at how these words kept coming, from all sides! How was I to companion, and who?

Surprisingly, I began to think that I am here to companion first of all, Christ. To watch for and be present to God's labour of love here in this place. Isaiah 42:12-17 comes to me again. What is God birthing here? My work cannot be of taking it on - I am here only a short time, and limited in so many ways. I am not a super-being whose job is to fly in and make all things right. But I am called to watch, to see all that there is to see and to accompany the labourer, to advocate for the labourer who is doing that work. And at these thoughts, my heart felt full to the breaking point.

Please pray. Today, as I move into the second day of the morning track, and the first day of the evening track - please pray that my eyes will be opened in this way - to see the labour of God, and to search out his heart amongst his people. Please pray that I will not turn my heart or my sight away from this companionship - there is much suffering. Please pray that I will remember this work of companioning God when I see what I see, and feel the pressure to take on what is not mine. Please pray that I will remember to encourage those who are part of God's labor here so that they may take on what is theirs with comfort and confidence. Please pray that I will be able to help make visible the path of peace for these dear ones.

Final note: Yesterday, upon meeting Rev. Willy, he gave me a message for you - that he had been praying for me and for our church - for us. You are not only praying, you are being held in prayer! What a kinship we belong to.

Love,
Peace,
Mary