Not Conformity but Transformation

Like most people, I live everyday of my life trying please other people: do I look they way they want me to look, act the way they want me to act, say the things they want me to say, be the person they want me to be?  Is this choice I'm making about my future the one other people want me to make?  Will it make them happy?  What if I let them down?  What will they say then?

I am a conformer.

I try to fit in, blend in, and hide among the masses.  If everyone else acts this way, maybe I should, too.  So I do.  I set aside myself and my wishes and my dreams and my desires to do what other people expect me to do.  This is how things should be done, so this is how I'll do them, too.  I'll wear what they want, act how they want, say what they want to hear. That must be the way to do it, right?  But I'm not happy.

Sure, I have moments when there is no other place I'd rather be, and I want to be surrounded by the people with whom I live.  I want to be in the classroom learning and growing and experiencing life as it is here.  I want to do the things every college student does, every Taylor student does.  I want to live within the traditions and experience it all just like so many others have done before me.

But more often than not, I'm tired of living the life someone else already lived.  I look at my future unfolding before me as I continue on the path I'm on, and I see someone else living life in the same exact way I am and will.  They walked my footsteps, and I'm living in the safety of following their path before me.  But I don't want to live someone else's life.  Anyone can go to school, get a degree, get a safe job and live the perfect, little, American life.

I don't want to be part of the "anyone."

I find myself uncomfortable on the path I'm on.  Like I'm not being true to myself.  Like I'm not being true to what I feel God calling me to be and do.  I spend so much time dreading the life ahead of me and scared of doing what is expected of me.  I, as an education major, have to fulfill so many hours in the classroom to complete my degree, but I don't think I want to do it.  I don't want to spend my days cooped up, planning lessons to teach to the test and appease the Board of Education.  I don't want to struggle through my days filled with fear and worry and stress just to do something I'm not sure I'm really passionate about anyway.  I don't want to keep pretending like someday I'll figure it all out and suddenly will love this path I've chosen for myself.

The more I wait for that day to come, the more time I spend wasting days that I could be doing something I love right now.

I want to serve the Lord with all that I am.  I want to go and have conversations with people, love on starving children, washing the feet of the least of these, giving all that I have to those who have nothing.  I want to shine light to the dark places that are lacking hope.  I want to teach others the Truth of the Lord and meet them in their place of need.  I want to go and move and live life with people who can teach me more than I can teach them.  I want to live with the one's the world treats as outcasts.  I want to love the orphans and wipe the tears from the faces of the broken.  I want to be like Jesus in this broken world.

I want to live a life of transformation.

I want to be different.  I want to live fully in who I am without the fear of what others think or say.  I don't need their confirmation on how to be when I'm feeling that assurance and direction from my Heavenly Father.  I want to take time to discover me and discover who I am in the Lord.  I want to do that without distraction, without hoops to jump through, without others telling me what I should or shouldn't do.  I want to be transformed by the King of Kings and live my life that He has destined for me to live.  I want to be a living sacrifice in all that I do.

I find myself daily fed up with the life I'm living.  Is there a way for me to live more freely here as a student, as a leader, as a friend, as a daughter, as a sister, as a teacher, as a disciple? I'm sure there is.  I just don't know how to do it.  I don't know how to be transformed in a place that wants me to conform.  I don't know how to be who I am without worrying what others think.  I don't know how to be okay with stepping across the line and standing alone without burden of pleasing people resting on my shoulders.  I don't know how to live my life and still live in community with others who see the world so incredibly differently than I do.

But I want to try.

"Therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, I urge you to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God; this is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God."

Romans 12:1-2 HCSB

A Flood of Memories

Sometimes, I'll be going through my day, totally normal with nothing out of the ordinary, and one moment can take me back to a day I'd experienced long ago. I'm in the midst of one of these flashbacks today. It's as though everything that could be the same is the same from the day of the week to the dress I'm wearing to the activities I have to take part in.

Sometimes, I love these moments. 

It can be comforting to know that even though so much is changing, I still have pieces of the past to cling to that are vivid and real--good times with friends and family, laughter and joy.

Other times, I'd do anything to never have these moments. 

I not only remember the experiences, but I also feel the emotion that occurred. It's as though no matter how perfect my current situation, I'm feeling the emotion of a memory past. And sometimes, these aren't warm, fuzzy emotions. Sometimes, they're ones of hurt, sadness, anger, fear...

It's funny how much one day in the past can linger so close to the surface that when it arises, it's fresh and strong and ready to attack. It's a paralyzing emotion to feel, the one of the past. Because nothing in my present situation can combat it. I simply must relive the emotion hour after hour, sometimes day after day until it decides it's had enough. Then, it will burrow back under the surface to wait for another day. 

It's a blessing and a curse to feel so strongly for people and events. I love that I am able to relate to those around me, hurt when they hurt, rejoice when they rejoice. But sometimes, they don't let me in to feel as they feel. Then I'm left to imagine and feel on my own. I'm left feeling the pain of a day gone by. I'm left to wonder and worry what I can do better. I'm left with my thoughts and my feelings. And that's not always my favorite place to be. 

The Father is the Best Teacher

Over the course of the past year, and especially the past few months, I have learned so much and grown as a person and a follower of the Lord in immense ways.  A year ago, I entered into a relationship knowing that it was not what God wanted for me at that time.  I was far from Him and needed to grow as an individual and a believer before I could fully embrace what it meant to love another person.  But, as I so often do, I failed to listen to God's nudging to wait.

For almost four months, God was the farthest thing from my thoughts.  I went to church and attended chapel at school and did all the things that make the appearance of a "good" Christian.  But my heart and my mind were not focused on the Lord.  I was consumed by another person who deserved so much more than I had to offer in that time.  And God knew that.  So He began "Turn Back to ME 101" with me whether I was ready for it or not.

Within a period of 24 hours, everything I thought was concrete in my life at the time, shattered.  I had my heart broken unexpectedly, but if it weren't for the impact of that, I don't think God could have possibly gotten my attention in any other way.  It was probably the best thing to happen to me in the past year, though if you had asked me at the time, I would have responded very differently.  My relationship had been all I cared about, and I know my friends became a second-thought because of it.  When my significant other did what I couldn't, he made the best choice for both of us as he followed the Lord when I couldn't, or rather, wouldn't. 

This was the beginning of a long summer of healing in my life.  I spent the summer babysitting for a wonderful, godly family with three beautiful, joyful girls.  This was the most restorative time that helped me begin to put the pieces back together in my life.  I had a daily distraction, for one, but I was also doing what I loved.  Pouring into children's lives is what I long to do for the rest of my time on this earth, but I found this past summer just how much these three amazing girls had to pour back into me.  I am so thankful for this family and everything they did for me, whether they know the extent of that or not.

Coming back to Taylor at the end of the summer was necessary.  I had healed from the heart break, and I had the longing to grow closer with God, but I didn't have any idea where to start.  I needed to get away from a home filled with painful memories of the past few months and go back to a place where I was constantly surrounded by strong, encouraging believers.  Within my first few weeks at school, I'd had more meaningful conversations with the women on my floor than I could count.  Each one spoke truth into my life and added to the pieces of my heart that God was repairing.

I remember having conversations with one girl in particular who told me that her goal for the school year was to become a woman of valor.  What a beautiful desire! I looked at her and saw the joy and love of Christ shining through her gentle spirit, warm smile and contagious laughter.  As I continued to talk with her and my friendship with her deepened, I realized just how much God used her to build my confidence and remind me of His plan for me.  I was reminded that I have worth and one failed relationship didn't mean I was unlovable or broken.  I, too could become a woman of valor if I sought to grow with Him first and foremost. 

Much of the rest of my semester was spent learning and growing with my fellow sisters in Christ as I allowed God to reach me through church, chapel, and leading a small group of incredibly wise women.  In addition, I was beginning to prepare for my time in The Philippines and how God could teach me and use me there.  Having a goal to focus on was more beneficial than I realized at the time.  I spent daily time in prayer and devotion purely praying for my trip, but the Father was using this time to grow my heart in other ways as well.

Throughout the three weeks I spent overseas, I learned more than the past year put together.  I had to rely on God every day in each moment to get through my trip.  I was able to see His truths and promises revealed in the most basic ways: a toothless smile from a street kid on my way to school, a hearty laugh as I spun a child through the air for maybe 5-7 seconds, the tiny voices yelling "Hi!" as I stepped over sewage and garbage while walking through the community I worked in.  The people had such overflowing joy even though they had so little.  They shared their resources, opened up their classrooms and allowed us to play with their children for three weeks.  God's love and mercy was so evident in my time abroad.

Reentering life in America was harder than I anticipated.  Why should I be able to sleep in a king-size bed by myself for a week before returning to school where I'd receive a top-of-the-line education at a Christian institution, when days before I had seen the dirt floors and tin roofs that made up the shacks these people called home.  Where many children and most of the adults were uneducated and unable to provide for their families.  How could I live life here the way I always have when I had seen the poverty and desperate need of thousands around the world?

Over the past week, I've struggled immensely in conversations with others, my classes, and even in chapel.  It's hard coming back and trying to put into words how God turned my whole world upside down, especially with people who haven't had the opportunity to experience something that I was so blessed to have done.  It's not that they don't want to understand or that they don't care the way I do; it is simply a difference in experience, life and revelation from God that actually helps make the Body of Christ so unique and powerful.  And I'm learning to recognize that. 

Overall, I would say that I can only now see the good that God had in store for me when I thought my world was falling apart last May.  He hurt when I wept, but He also was with me, wrapping His loving arms around me, whispering, "I have great things in store for you, My child.  Trust Me.  There may be pain now, but there is overwhelming joy ahead."  I wasn't able to hear it then, so He repeated it over and over and over again until I allowed Him to soften my heart and His words flow into me.  I've learned that God knows what He's doing.  That sounds elementary, but now that I can look back and confidently say that the bigger picture makes more sense, I really understand it.  God does have a plan that will come together for my good and your good and everyone's good.  I may not see it in this moment.  I may not see it for ten years, but it's there, and God has it all under control.  What an incredible promise!

A BandAid Can't Fix Everything

As my time here in Manila draws to a close, I'm trying to fit as many memories and opportunities in as possible.  In doing so, I spent my Monday afternoon on another feeding. This was to a location I had heard was something you could only experience, so I was excited to finally have the chance to go. As a group of twelve of us began to load the van to head to our location, the driver asked my friend Rebecca and I if anyone in our group could help with triage.  Normally, a nurse working at the missions compound goes on the feedings to administer first aid to the people living there. Today however, was different. The nurse was unable to go with us, but triage was still expected to take place.  Rebecca and I looked at each other, and she said she would be willing to do so. I hesitated, realizing how far outside of my comfort zone something like first aid in a third world country is. As soon as I decided to not help with triage, I felt God tell me, "Paige, do this for My children." So I did.

The location was nothing that I could have expected. It was an even poorer neighborhood than the area in which I'm staying, which seemed hard to imagine. Little boys and girls were running around without pants or shirts. We saw several children without a real pair of shoes. The people were all in the street outside their homes that were little more than wooden shacks with a tin roof. As we drove into the area, we saw a tent set up in front of a house with several men sitting in front of it. They were gambling. In the Cuatro neighborhood and ones like it, this happens when a family member dies. The body is kept outside of the home and the family members gamble for money until they have enough to bury their dead. We have seen this take place three times during our two and a half weeks here.

Once we stopped the van at our location, the children swarmed to receive food. The meal is scalding hot, but the starving bodies eat it right away to satisfy their hunger in that moment. No number of feedings could completely satisfy the hunger these people face every day. The rest of the team piled out of the van and began scooping food or playing with the children. Rebecca and I grabbed the toolbox that is used as a first aid kit, put on gloves and got to work. We talked about it later, once we were back on our missions compound, and realized that both of us felt entirely ill-prepared for the work we were about to do. A couple of college aged girls with expired first aid certifications was the best we could offer.

Several children who came up to us initially had minor scrapes that hadn't entirely healed yet. We knew what to do for those. A little antiseptic, some Neosporin and a band aid. Then a grown man came up to us and pointed to his leg. His entire right calf was covered in oozing sores and infection that was without a doubt, a fairly advanced staph infection.  Rebecca tackled it like she knew exactly what to do, and after we'd cleaned him up and put a bandage on it to prevent spreading, he asked us for medicine to heal it. Only a large dose of antibiotics was going to truly clean up his leg and we could not offer him anything. We advised him to keep his leg bandaged and clean with purified water, and he was gone. I can only imagine what a few more weeks of that infection will do to his leg.

After the man, a girl of around ten years old was brought to us by her mother. Her mom turned her around and pulled up the back of both shorts' legs. We saw a very similar sight behind both knees and thighs as we had seen on the man's calf. Several infected sores had already burst and were scabbed over, but there were many more that would soon burst and leave her legs exposed to any number of other infections around her. We provided the same care for her and instructed her mother to take care of her with clean water. Who knows if her mother understood any of the English we spoke to her or not. My heart breaks for the girl whose body is already so riddled with disease and infection.

Most of the other "patients" we saw were minor. There was a baby with oozing sores on her head, a few burns we soothed and wrapped up, and many more cuts. The one treatment I provided that stuck with me the most, however, is another girl around eleven years old. She appeared healthy and happy, and simply pointed to her left leg a few inches below her knee. There I saw a cotton ball stuck to a wound the size of a half dollar or so. Assuming this cut was recent and the cotton ball was just to stop the bleeding, I changed my gloves and knelt down to look at her. I touched the cotton ball and felt her whole body cringe. The wound was not new, in fact it was almost entirely healed. Instead, the cotton ball had fused to her skin as the wound healed around it. It was graphed into her skin and was not going to come off easily.

I turned to Rebecca and told her that I wasn't sure I could do it. I saw her busy with another girl and knew that I had to do this. As I turned back to the girl, I watched her finish pulling off the cotton ball herself. She was grimacing as she put the cotton ball into my hand and I threw it away. On her leg was a fully opened, eighth of an inch deep wound that I had to take care of. I prepared myself to clean the girl's leg and told her to be strong because it was going to sting. She nodded, grit her teeth and tensed up. I stopped the blood flow with some cotton balls then cleaned the wound out with antiseptic spray.

I have never seen a stronger child in my life.

As I cleaned her wound, she didn't make a sound. She stayed tense and her face said it all. This was excruciating pain cleaning out a wound that was infected and newly reopened. I kept encouraging her that it was almost over and she was doing great. I finished cleaning it, put Neosporin on and covered it with a gauze that could not form to her skin as the cotton ball had. As I finished, I told her to leave the bandage on and to clean it with clean water. I told her she was strong and how proud of her I was. The smile that lit up her face as she heard those words made the gruesomeness of her injury melt away. She touched my heart with her courage and strength.

Other than the few particular instances that I've written out, most of it runs together in my head. It turns into a sadness knowing that many people I treated will eventually die because of the infections running through their bodies. These people live day in and day out wondering if they'll eat a real meal, be able to bathe, and wake up to see another day. They live in a state of perpetual filth and disease, yet they're filled with joy. They are grateful for what they have and love to welcome strangers into their neighborhoods who will brighten their lives once a week.

They have a strength that inspires me. Only, I hope that I can be filled with a strength that comes from the Lord. I want they're infectious joy and strength to rule in my life coming solely from the Lord Jesus Christ. I'm continually reminded that life is fragile and I should be representing Christ in each word that comes out of my mouth, action that my body performs, and thought that runs through my mind. How else can I hope to change the world?

Giving to the Least of These

My time here in Manila has been extremely thought provoking and world changing.  I feel as though my way of thinking has been greatly altered due to the poverty, disease, hunger, and dirtiness I see around me everyday.  Greater than all of these though is the joy that the people have.  Each day as I walk to school, swarms of children gather around my fellow teachers and I just to hold our hands, tell us their names and say hello.  The language barrier doesn't seem to matter when it comes to showing love to the little children.  Their tiny hands, covered in dirt, slip into mine and walk with me until I have to stop or go father than they can go.  They say goodbye with huge smiles and waves that show just how much those moments of walking meant to them.  The smallest things bring these kids the most joy.

This afternoon, I saw one of the most heart wrenching sights that made me reassess myself and my life.  I came back to the mission compound where we are staying and saw some of my fellow teachers gathered in the dining area.  I walked to where they were and saw a small boy sitting in a chair with three or four people gathered around him.  As I watched, I learned that this first grader, Alexander, had been sitting in his big brother's class at the end of the school day waiting to go home.  He had been full of energy and lit up the room with his bouncy personality.  After a little while he complained that he was hungry and settled down in a chair.  The teacher in the room said that he got quiet and looked very tired.  Within moments he became very weak and unresponsive.  

The teacher was a girl on my missions team.  She went to the boy and realized that he was not only tired but extremely sick.  She carried his limp body from the school back to our compound and asked for help immediately.  The women in charge of the kitchen made him some rice and got him water, but Alex was not awake enough to eat or drink almost anything.  Thankfully there is a group of Australians staying on the compound with us and one happened to be a nurse.  She came and assessed Alex and recommended he be taken to the hospital immediately.  God blessed Alex with an available driver on the compound and he was rushed there immediately.  

Those of us watching, unable to help in any way, realized just how helpless we as humans can really be.  We can think good thoughts and wish we could just wake Alex up so he would be his usual bubbly self, but it doesn't do any good.  In that moment, watching the van drive away with little Alex in tow, we were keenly aware of just how much we needed God on our side.  We gathered in prayer and lifted up Alex in his little body to the Lord.  

Soon afterward, a woman came to give us more information on Alex's life.  He is one of ten children in his family with several older brothers.  Two of them were hanging on the gate to the compound begging to know if Alexander was going to be okay and want to know what was wrong with their little brother.  We were also told that when Alex was younger he had a stomach tumor removed that had developed due to a lack of food and nutrition.  Alex was a fighter and we could only pray that he would pull through again this time. 

In addition to Alex going to the hospital, two other girls from the Cuatro community were able to go.  They had been waiting for an opportunity.  Even in the most dire of circumstances, God was able to show his divine power and timing.

Later in the evening we were told that Alex was up and doing incredibly well.  On the way to the hospital, the Australian nurse was monitoring his heart rate and said it dropped to extremely low levels.  However, while still in transit, Alex perked up and began responding to touch and voice more.  By the time he arrived at the hospital, Alex was so conscious that he didn't need an IV.  The doctors said his blood sugar had dropped very low, so they gave him some bread and hot chocolate to spike it back up.  On the way home, Alex was treated to fast food which he ate all of gladly.  

I think the part of this story that touched me the most was hearing that earlier in the day Alex had been given some food that he then gave away to another child who needed it too.  Alex, who has nine siblings to share food with and doesn't receive enough food on a daily basis, gave away the food he could have eaten to another child in need.  If that isn't showing Jesus to the least of these, I don't know what is.

Feeding the Starving Children

Being in the Philippines still feels incredibly surreal to me.  (Even more so since I'm missing out on the snowpocalpsye that has overtaken the Midwest!)  The climate here is warm but extremely bearable as we are here in their winter season as well.  The sun shines daily and there's a fairly constant breeze to cool things off as well.  That breeze is such a blessing from God when you walk outside after being cooped up in a tiny classroom with no window for six and a half hours each day.  

We jumped right into life here after getting very little sleep upon arrival.  We spent over twenty-four hours traveling, and I got only five and a half hours of sleep during and after that before we woke up for church the next day.  Other than a few early mornings trying to get accustomed to the time difference, jet lag didn't hit us too hard.

Most of my days are spent teaching in Cuatro Christian School in Manila.  It is a small Christian school that makes education accessible for 350+ children who would be otherwise unable to receive an education.  I spend my time in a kindergarten classroom that reaches two sets of half day kindergartners.  They are so happy to have me and two other girls from Taylor in their classroom, and we've had a blast teaching them so far.  Education here is very different from that at home.  There isn't as much structure in the classroom, and the teacher often doesn't have control of all her students.  At least three students sleep for a portion of each school day, and the teacher simply lets them.  That took some adjusting to for sure.  

Despite the differences, kindergartners are the same here and around the world.  They love to play "tricks" on us.  High fives here are the coolest thing ever.  The children love to get a high five after doing their work well.  Even better is a high five and a fist bump.  They also really want to communicate with us even though it can be tricky sometimes.  Most of the older students have a good English understanding, but the kindergartners are still at the beginning.  That can make it difficult when I ask a question in English and they answer me in Tagalog.  Thankfully there is an aide in the classroom as well who will often translate for us when we get that blank look on our face because we clearly don't understand.

After school we have the opportunities to go to the Children's Home (orphanage), JAZ Home (a home for girls taken out of abusive situations) or on feedings.  I've been to the orphanage twice now, and I love to see the kids and play with them.  A few are even in my class at school.  However, what I'm enjoying the most about my time here is the feedings.  These take place twice a day to different areas of Manila each time.  We load up in a van or two and bring along a protein packed hot rice meal to give away to the people we meet.  When we get there, the children come swarming with a cup, bowl, plastic bag, or anything else that can hold food in hand.  They each receive a scoop or two of food until the food runs out.  Once the children are served, some adults come to receive as well.  

As much as I love being able to feed the children, I love to play with them even more.  It is clear that the children need love and healthy touch in their lives.  They love to receive little stickers, toys or pieces of candy as well as have their pictures taken.  I have over fifty pictures of children posed in silly ways just so they can see it afterwards.  So many children come up and ask to just be held.  They don't really want anything else except for love and attention.  They smile their adorable smiles only to show their rotten teeth, but a smile is the same in every language still. The area fills with laughter and joy when a feeding takes place.  This is what I love so much.  

These children may not know that they have next to nothing, but we do.  We see how poor their lives are and how much more life has to offer them.  But they are still happy.  They love to see Americans come to their neighborhoods to see them.  They only want to play with us, know our names and hope to see us again very soon.  It's devastating to say goodbye.  The kids you're holding don't want to be set down.  They cling until someone else has to pry them off of you so you can walk away.  Today we had to clear them away from the sides of the van so we could drive away because they weren't ready to say goodbye or see us leave them.  It's especially hard when they are students in your classroom.  Seeing what life is really like for them and wishing you could give them the world or more.  

My eyes have been opened to so much here already, and I can't believe it's only been four days.  God is breaking and shaping and molding my heart to be more like His through the experiences I'm having and the people I'm meeting.  Thank you for your prayers! My team and I would not be where we are if it weren't for you lifting us up to the Father! :)

Traveling Adventures!

We're off!  It's my first time flying for more than two hours at a time. We were supposed to meet the other half of our group in the O'Hare airport before we left for Hong Kong, but their flight out of Indy was delayed several different times.  They still hadn't arrived when it was time to board, but we had instructions to go ahead and fly to Manila as planned regardless if they arrived or not.  They finally boarded after running from their gate and going through International Security.  There was a lot of cheering when we saw the first familiar face come into view! What a relief to have our trip leaders with us as we fly to the other side of the world! 

As we were waiting for the plane to take off, we began to talk with the people sitting around us.  There was a group of students who looked about our age, so of course we wanted to know where they were going.  It turned out, not only were they students studying abroad for the semester, but they were all biology majors from the University of Illinois!  Nice to have a little piece of home on board with me.

The plane is exceptional.  Each passenger has a monitor in the back of the seat in front of them on which they can watch movies, TV shows, play games and listen to music.  There is also a map that follows our route in real time so we can see how far we have gone and where in the world we are at any given time.  In addition, we can see a video of what is right outside the plane.  That was very cool to watch during take-off, but not too long into the flight, the sun went down and the video was dark, not as interesting.

As I write this, we are about seven hours into the flight with another eight to nine to go.  Surprisingly, we aren't too restless yet, keeping busy wandering around, watching movies, and playing cards.  The food hasn't been half bad either.  When we land in Hong Kong we have a two hour layover then fly two more hours to Manila which we will call home for the next three weeks.  What a crazy exciting adventure we're embarking on!  

I can't wait to see what God has in store for our group, the people we meet, and me.  My prayer for this trip so far has been "God, prepare us." So if you happen to read this blog, pray that along with me, please.  I long to see God move in ways that I can't even express, and I know He won't let me down.

Ephesians 3:21

"Now to Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen."