Break my heart for what breaks yours

At times, I really don't like Manila!

When I say this, people who know that I've been there at least 6 times are rather surprised but it's the truth. I don't like the traffic, the pollution, the weather or my lack of freedom to do what I usually do and go when and where I choose. I find it stifling, and that's not just because of the heat!

My idea of a perfect place to visit is somewhere north of the Arctic Circle or south of the Antarctic Circle. Give me Iceland, Alaska, Finnish Lapland in winter or Antarctica. I love the being cosy and rugging up against the cold. A good book, a fire and cup of hot Black Rose and Vanilla tea – oh joy!

So why does Manila continue to draw me?

To explain this, I need to give you a little background to my Manila experiences. I first went to the Philippines in 1984. Together with three other friends, I visited some missionaries and had a taste of their life as we spent two weeks living and working with them. It was a challenging time as I had some really confronting experiences. As we left, I thought I'd done the ‘missionary thing’ and seen the ‘poverty stuff’. Back home I changed some of my behaviours, attitudes and beliefs and I thought that was the end of it all.

Fast track to 2010 and a conversation I had with my sister and her husband. They were planning a return visit to King Solomon Christian School International. The three of us had been involved with the school for many years through the establishment of the KSLC child sponsorship program and although I'd had opportunities to visit before, in my mind, I'd done that all before and there were other things I'd rather do.

Ultimately I decided to tag along but I really had no idea why I was going. My sister said repeatedly that it was a good idea to meet more of the people I'd heard about for years and there was the draw card of the Beautiful Women event that I’d get the opportunity to help out with, but I was not really convinced there was any need for me to re-live an experience I thought I'd had before.

Returning to Manila through the airport was a little disappointing as I was NOT greeted by dozens of men asking me to marry them as they tried to wrest my bags from me as had been my experience back in 1984. That was certainly different! But the traffic was just the same, the beggars on the streets were just the same, the smell was just the same. I really wondered what I was doing - here again.

Heading almost immediately up to Sonia’s Garden in Tagaytay with about 100 women from Tatalon was a delight. We spent time with them as they experienced the beautiful garden setting, the delicious meals and some pampering. I enjoyed making new friends but it was not until we returned to Tatalon and I was invited into some of their homes that I saw the contrast between where we’d just been and what reality was like for these women. I started to realise that there was much more for me to learn in this second visit.

It all came to a head for me when we went to Payatas to investigate the possibility of starting a school in the dumpsite. I'd been warned, seen photographs and heard of how others had reacted to the stench and the sights, so being there myself really did not affect me too much. Yes, it was appalling, but I was prepared for that.

As we were shown over the building that we'd come to see, I went upstairs by myself and looked out the window. There was a small group of three young girls playing in the filth. They seemed to catch sight of me looking out the window and began to wave excitedly to me. As I leaned out the window and waved back I was suddenly struck by the horror of their situation. It wasn't the stink or the disgusting conditions in which they were living. It was as if I suddenly heard the groan of Creation struggling under the weight of sin and God spoke to me and said: ‘These too I created to live in a garden’. I was overwhelmed by the injustice of poverty.

Payatas - April 2010

My sister came looking for me as we were about to leave and she asked me if I was OK. ‘No!’ I said in tears. ‘I'm NOT OK. This is all so completely wrong and I just can't see how any of this can ever be made right.’

With incredible gentleness, my big sister acknowledged the enormity of the problem but then comforted me with hope as she said, ‘But you can make a difference for just one’.

So, why do I keep returning to Manila?

I'm angry, really angry about the injustice of poverty and the bondage that is the result of sin. I hate the hunger, the sickness, the exploitation and the hopelessness that seem to be the lot of the poor. I want to make a difference for one, and then another, and then another …

God had so much to teach me in 2010 and each time I return to Manila I am taught even more through those I meet. I've seen the miracle of lives transformed by hope as they are touched by Jesus’ love as it is expressed in practical ways. Each time, my heart is captured anew by the wonder of my own Salvation.

I’m amazed that by God’s grace I too can participate in His work here in Manila. To be able to be Jesus’ hands, feet, arms and ears for the people I meet is such a joy. I love these people and anything I can do to restore to them what poverty has snatched away is an incredible, God-given privilege.