The call to create

Five days ago I took up the challenge of the blank page.

The challenge posed by the blank page as it stares at me, daring me to pollute its clear, ordered, lined surface. It sits in scorn of my feeble attempts to create new order, thought, or meaning in messy black scrawls. I feel inept and unfit for the task.

To my hope and chagrin, I have a community of friends who have taken up the same challenge, and they will push and drag me till I decide to soldier on. And I am further pushed by the call to create.

This new understanding of creation comes from a book I recently read and I offer you this tidbit below.

The author reflects on "An Artist in His Studio" and he muses, "I have come to see [the Artist] not primarily as a portrait of a person but of a posture. The artist steps back from his work. His weight is on his back foot--he is contemplating, waiting, watching. But the brush is already in his hand. he will soon step forward to the canvas that looms before him with all its possibility and danger. He contemplates in order to act. he is still in order to move. He is alone in order to offer something to others. He is small and humble, recognizing that what he is creating is in some sense more lasting and of greater import than himself. But he is also dignified by this moment of waiting and watching. The painting depends on him, on his willingness to risk being a creator."

That is the challenge of the blank page... to risk being a creator. To take the God-given experiences, stories, insights, knowledge, and make something new.

Perhaps in creation... the ephemeral nature of truth is concretized for a moment, and I will be given the grace to see God.

Do I believe in New Years Resolutions?

First, an apology for the 3 month disappearing act! Returning from Manila and transitioning back into life in America was a blitz and if you would like to hear more about it, call me and we can sit down and talk. :) Rather than write a 3-month reflection blog... I figured I would jump back into it with the thoughts that are actually on my mind.

With that said...
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Do I believe in resolutions?

January 1st is a world-wide accepted marker for the beginning of something new. Measuring our lives in seconds, minutes, hours, work weeks, months... this is the beginning of a new year. Now, is the time to experience a freedom from the mistakes, regrets, and failures of the previous 52 weeks and walk forward free to dream again. But what makes this day any different then yesterday?

Was it the count down with friends, the singing of Auld Lang Syne (you know, that song everyone starts singing but no one knows the words to), the champagne that gives the New Year signficance? Is it Pope Gregory and his final adjustments to the Calendar the world now accepts as standard that gives this day significance?

While I was in college, the New Years was only as significant as the people I was around. Personally, the end of the school year had muchmore meaning, as I launched myself into summer having completed another year of classes, bible studies, and college life.

But as I sit here celebrating the day after new years at my favorite coffee shop I felt like there was something about 2009 that I had to take note of and acknowledge.

I'm at a crossroads. And because I'm at a crossroads, 2009 stands before me as another menacing "year of transition". Transition is good for us, it is in the midst of transition that we grow and mature. But transition is hard because it is often vague, and the journey is much hazier then the vision for the end result. I currently am not looking forward to 2009...

But as I've spent some days in reflection and rest... I realize that God is calling me to vision with Him. To have goals and dreams. Both for personal formation and for accomplishments and the future.

One thing I desire to do is write more.

All of you need to keep me accountable for this okay?

The Last Slum of Makati

You will probably hear it before you see it.

If you are listening, amidst the towers, the parking lots, the banks and coffee shops of Makati you will find it.

If you are listening... the sounds of cars, people, & construction will give way to the crowing of a rooster, in the center of the financial & commercial sector of Manila.

And if you are truly listening enough to care you will look up from the ground in front of you and peer beyond the trees growing so perfectly along the roadside and you will the corrugated rooftops of the last slum of Makati.

It stubbornly sits there, wooden creations, a spot, a blemish on the face of the otherwise clean and spotless Makati exterior. Laundry hangs out the windows to dry and an older man lounges on the third floor just in view over the tops of the perfect row of trees, which worked so hard to mask the existence of such a place.

The blemish, meticulously hidden yet betrayed by the cocks crow is there to stay. A miracle in many ways, perhaps God preserving the homes of the few, a symbol of his care for his people in the midst of an unjust opulence. Maybe His judgment, an indictment against the superficiality of Makati's prosperity that is striving to hide the abject poverty that lurks below the surface that is the backbone of the construction of the grand and soaring skyscrapers that tower over the miracle blemish.

And perhaps it, in this moment, is God's word to me... pleading with me to have his eyes and his ears for his people. To listen for his voice, even if by such mundane things as a rooster's crow.

Ate Luce

This isn't really finished, but I haven't posted in a while... so i'll go ahead and post it for you all. A too short sketch of Ate Luce
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Amongst the Sari-Sari stores of Botocan most people know of Ate Luce's store. The most variety and the cheapest alcohol make it a common location for all people in Botocan to drop by, sooner or later.
If you were to drop by you would meet a kind but quick, hospitale & sassy mother of two, the central piece of the Sarmiento household who pile into the upstairs of the store every night, all eight of them sharing the space of a small studio apartment in Los Angeles. There's Mom & Dad Sarmiento, Ate Luce and her husband Guya Weng, there are two kids, Dart (short for Dartagnian of Muskateers fame) and Basti (short for Sebastian, though his real name... long story). Finally, Luce's two brothers, Nielsen and Ken, round out the mix. It is a close & loyal family, true to each other & committed to their mutual success.
Luce is always available to talk amidst dealing with customers, caring for Basti, or taking a break to smoke. She is quick to smile and quick to invite you in for some afternoon meryenda or a late dinner; especially if you are an awkward and slightly befuddled American "missionary". She is proud of her brothers, both who are studying at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines and is devoted to her husbands and sons.
"Where were you Daniel?" she chides me after a day away. "Next time you need to eat with us!"
Recently the twinkle has disappeared. One peels back a layer and underneath the quick smile is a sadness, the weight, worry, and anxiety of a mother concerned with the future of her children. Less than a year ago her father had a stroke rendering him unable to continue his work as a mechanic. The household now survives on three jobs, Luce's mother's job washing dishes, Guya Weng's job as a pizza delivery man, and the store. Luce is thinking of going back overseas. She is not sure if she can afford her children's schooling. She loves her kids and wants to make sure that they have opportunities. So she is applying to go back to Japan again. Last time she went as an entertainer. She called her family every day because she missed her family so much. But because of her love for her children, she is willing to leave. To leave for the love of her children, the most tragic love of all.

Day Dreaming...

I wake up in the morning. Time for another day of work! I sigh and get out of bed, grab a quick bite to eat and then go to my 8-5 job. It doesn't pay that well, but it keeps food on the table. If I had my choice I would be doing something else, but I don't really know what that would be so until then I am grateful for this job that keeps me going. It is a gift from God.

When I get home I'll either call up some friends to hang out, maybe play a game of chess, or basketball or just hang out. A lot of my neighbors drink, but I try to stay away from too much of that. My weekends are pretty full with church activities, I enjoy worship music so I help with the worship team when I can. I will be leading at the end of this month.

That's my life, I'm happy and God has given me the grace of his salvation. What else could I ask for?
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Who is this? Is this me in Los Angeles or Mark in the slums of Botocan?

In the midst of the differences... the similarities are striking.

Thoughts?

Ariel - A Character Sketch

If you were to enter Botocan and weave through the tricycles, the makeshift market, the unclothed kids waiting for the laundry to dry, & turn into an alleyway right before the road veers off to the right-- then you would cross a small bridge covering the "stream" [read: open sewer] that runs through the community. Past the stream you would take a sharp right, cutting between two houses and find yourself in front of a house, the squealing of pigs in the background and face to face with Ariel, the inestimable pig farmer.

Ariel sits in his house watching TV, cracking jokes & talking to those who come by. His wife Luna is usually there as well, if she is not out talking with the neighbors or playing bingo for some pesos. Right behind thehouse they have the pigs, 12 babies right now and one mama sow. They can breed four times a year and sell the babies when they are grown for 2,000 pesos each (approx. $45). Ariel also rents two places out.

When we visit Ariel he always welcomes us in. He loves to talk & loves a good pun, & he has a lot! Quick wit & quick mind, he is a delightful host. I visit with Aaron & since I speak so little Tagalog all I can do is smile & laugh. He always points that out, "daniel, he likes to laugh. That's good, it's the Christian thing to do. " I don't even know how serious he is. They want to invite me over so that I can learn more tagalog, so that I won't rely on Aaron translating for me. Ariel says, "Usually Filipinos are very hospitable, we would give you the very best. But because you're here to experience the life of the poor we will feed you rice and dried fish." He says this in mock seriousness & then laughs. Who knows what I will be fed come thursday night!

The War of the Roads

Aaron likes to walk...

He must have grown up a 'walker' because not often do I find myself taking public transportation, but rather, we walk. We travel through the city by foot, eschewing the horde of jeepneys, tricycles, motorbikes & taxis, all vying for his piso. And so I walk with him, taking just one Jeepney in th emidst of running errands to three locations, walking over 4 miles.

He has the scars to prove his mileage, right on his calf from a tricycle running into his leg. I can see how as the tricycle taxis whiz around us, their two-stroke engines a sharp staccato, like machine gun fire as they push & shove their way between jeepneys. Jeepneys, who think they are motorcyles cutting in and out of traffic, even into the opposite lane to get ahead, blocking traffic going both ways for a block. Interspersed the lone Toyota Camry (2008!) and Mercedes Benz owned by the rich who somehow keep their vehicles scratch free. Perhaps their windows are bullet and scratch proof. Aaron has told me of a company which rents out bullet proof vehicles for use by the rich, mostly chinese-Filipino familyies, for protection against kidnapping. Some 200 kidnappings a year, some kids getting kidnapped multiple times... routine extortion of money.

Aaron and I continue walking, though we wioll take one Jeepney back towards Botocon, where home is. Bent low in a short seat as we wait for our stop passing money between the driver and the passengers; the driver doling out change with one hand as he drives with the other. Aaron yells out our stop and he swerves to a halt and we continue on our way. Walking.

Aaron likes walking.