back and black

Currently listening to new Rachel Lampa album I purchased somewhere in Mega Mall in Manila.. where I managed to stumble across a Hillsong "Songs for Communion" album (weird, since they don't believe in the Eucharist), which I also purchased...

It's weird to be back in Sydney so soon. I kinda wish I'd stayed there for a couple of months, if not a whole year (I say this despite the stinking hot and humid weather, my newly-discovered allergy to Filipino mosquitoes, and the virus I caught from the 1-yr-old who kept stealing my water bottle in the GK village).

I guess there's something special about Philippines that kinda gets me nostalgic. I spoke with the most american-tag-lish accent on Sunday when I had to address the YFC Manila Sector-B conference and invite them all to WYD in 2008. I hardly remember anything I said because I was so sweaty and nervous, but I distinctly remember about 1000 of them cheering when I declared I was so proud to be Filo, because when I'm in Phils, I see hope, I see passion and I see an unbelievable trust in a God that makes things possible for them.

Without putting down Sydney, I have to admit that there's an intense adrenalin and passion that the youth of Philippines have that the youth of Australia. Maybe it's the culture, or because the country is 80% Catholic... I don't know. But whenever I go there, I encounter a level hope and hospitality that demonstrates true, unconditional and fearless love. We probably visited 6 GK sites during our trip, and in each of them God unveiled a joy so beautiful I felt my heart being tugged to stay there forever.

We'd walk past the colourful homes and parents would smile, wave and sometimes giggle when the team members would attempt their Aussie-sounding greetings of "Magandang umaga!" or "Kumusta! Ako si...."

The kids would wander over to us curiously, and once we offered them a smile, they'd immedietaly begin a fresh game of "tag" or jump on our backs for a piggy-back race with their neighbour. None of the "stranger-danger" hostility you get in our streets here.

Getting rid of the poverty in the Philippines must've seemed like an impossible task. And yet the GK program started because a Youth for Christ household decided they'd build a new home for one of their members... today there are over 900 communities that have benefited from building new homes. That means over 9000 families have a new chance... simply because a few teenagers decided to do something selfless and put a fearless trust in God.

Where did that fearless trust of God go? Why so much hostility and fear to achieve great and marvellous things? People in Australia have become apathetic to miracles... in a country that's supposed to have everything, we've come not to expect anything.

The saddest thing I heard during the trip was when Ate Candy told us about one of her conversations with one of the kids in the GK sites. She'd asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, and he said, "A tricycle driver." Her heart was torn when the boy admitted he didn't want to say he wanted to be a doctor or a teacher or anything more than what he knew he could achieve. The child had lost the ability to dream - and dreams don't cost a cent.

There's an element of that in what I've experienced in the past couple of months. I feel like an idiot every time I dream. People roll their eyes, or snigger and say something like, "Don't bother trying - people have tried that and failed many times."

I'm sure many people in the past tried to alleviate the situation of poverty in the Philippines. But the beauty of heroes like Tony Milloto, Dylan Wilke and every contributor to the GK program is that people's failings in the past NEVER STOPPED THEM FROM GIVING EVERYTHING UP SO THAT OTHERS COULD HAVE MORE. Cynicism doesn't breed heroes.

I like being an idealist. I like having dreams. I like knowing I've done everything I possibly can to make a difference - even if it's a fraction of what other people do. And if people are going to try and take all that away from me, they can die trying. This is God's work - not mine.