Blessed to be Broken

***Warning: This blog post was taken directly from my journal. There is no filter. There is no edit. It may offend. It will probably offend. But this is real. This is my struggle. This is me.***

11/13/13

3 pm

     I'm gonna go ahead and blame Jon Bush for the rambling nonsense that is about to ensue. He encouraged me to write in an attempt to process my feelings about the typhoon and other goings-on, which is obviously why I've been avoiding it. But I know he's right (ugh), so here goes. It's word vomit time.

     Typhoons suck. This all just sucks. I am so close to the disaster area and yet I feel so very far away. I can't DO anything. Americans always want to DO. I guess I am more of an American than I thought. My bleeding heart can't stop watching the news. Looking at pictures. So many pictures. Dead bodies, destroyed homes, crying children. Dead children. This storm affected two million people. Two MILLION. At first we thought there may be 10,000 dead. Now it is at least that. How does a natural disaster not make you question your faith? I mean, God just HAD to call more than 10 THOUSAND people home to be with Him? Mothers HAD to bury their babies? How is this God's will?

     On the flip side, it has been a great gift to see people get up and ACT. Every single Filipino I know has given something. Time, money, prayer. Something. 12,000 prisoners in a jail gave up their meals for the victims. That's God. That's selfless sacrifice. That's LOVE. The Filipino people are standing up in solidarity and love for their fellow countrymen.

     Except for the government. I am more than a little over the government. They are playing the blame game- saying Tacloban wasn't "ready" for this storm. Well, DUH. How can a city ever be ready for the deadliest storm on record? And if they could have been more prepared, the reason they weren't is because the GOVERNMENT steals money from social services. They keep the Filipino people uneducated and oppressed so they can enjoy the view from their mansions. It's nauseating. I have no idea how they sleep at night.

     I can hardly sleep at night. Every night I thank God for a comfortable bed and a roof over my head to keep out the rain (sigue ulan). But in the same breath I must pray for those who do not have a roof over their heads to keep out the never-ending ulan. It's not fair. "Well, life isn't fair…." You know what? Screw that. It's NOT fair. It's not fair that just because of where I was born, I have never wanted for anything. It's not fair that because MILLIONS of children around the world were born in developing countries, they must sleep on dirt floors next to their many siblings because their government doesn't allow women the right to learn about reproductive health. It's not fair that children all over the world don't have clean drinking water. Enough food. Healthcare. Toothbrushes. BOOKS. EDUCATION. BLANKETS. TOYS. Are you kidding me? 5 year olds in America are getting iPods for Christmas while 5 year olds around the world die from starvation. THAT is not fair.

     Christians in America are fighting for "traditional biblical marriage." Quit wasting your breath. Fight for JUSTICE. The gays are here to stay, whether you like it or not. Worry about your own marriage and love your neighbor. Your STARVING Filipino/ Peruvian/ Ugandan/ Ukranian/ Mexican/ etc. neighbor. Children are sold into SEX SLAVERY EVERY SINGLE DAY to feed their families. Why would someone ELSE'S marriage ever take priority over that?? I'd love to say I'm not judging, but I'm judging. I'm human. I'm a sinner. This world is backwards and so broken. I am broken.

     I break a little more every day. The news BREAKS me. People's hateful comments break me. Solitude breaks me. I look around and I'm surrounded by beauty. Beautiful landscape, beautiful people, a beautiful language. And still I am broken. I am so deeply broken.

     I ate an apple earlier. That was all I did. Just sat there and ate an apple. I did nothing else. I can't remember the last time I did that. Just ate. I chewed it slowly. I enjoyed it. I made a mess. I thought about children who have never eaten an apple. Fruit is expensive. What a gift. I am blessed. Even here, surrounded by poverty, I am blessed.

     I often feel I have no purpose here. I know this is not true, but in the day-to-day, it seems so. I do not have a job description. I do not have a contract. My best days are spent doing nothing with my family. I love those days. Is that why I am here? To build relationships? To make friends? Because I don't feel like I'm "helping" anyone. Frankly, the people in Mabinay don't need help. I think they're helping me more than I'm helping them. Maybe that's what this year is about; learning to be helped. I like that. Learning to be alone, too. And to help myself. And to heal. I have a lot of healing to do.

"If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together." -Aboriginal Australian woman

     In case I forgot I was in the Philippines, Mama and Tata spent their afternoon catching Sharon (the pig). Apparently she had gotten loose. I don't know which is funnier, that our pig's name is Sharon or that chasing a pig is a reasonable way to spend one's afternoon.

     It's raining. I love this little cozy spot on my porch where I sit and watch the rain. I don't think I've ever been so thankful for a place before. If this is all about healing, I'm glad this is where my healing is happening.

~God, please help me to wrestle through these injustices. Help me to help the victims of the typhoon. Help me to see and seek your face in the aftermath. Help me to be patient with those who have differing opinions than from mine. Help me to be thankful, even when it's hard. Help me to learn to just BE, instead of always having to DO. Help me appreciate the little things. Help me breathe. Help me pray. Help me have faith. Help me have patience. Lots of patience. Help me have love. Overflowing love, even for (especially for) those who wrong me. Help me put together my broken parts. Help me heal. Amen. AK