To be honest, it’s scary to be so sure of something at this age. Yet many times I tell myself that my age should not matter. After all, Jesus reminds us of how important to keep that child like faith. But I find that there is a strange call for me in the Philippines. One that came so subtly I did not even realize it. I cannot explain what it is. The words of Exodus 2:22 still ring in my head. Louder still with each time I return and it’s a little unnerving. Is this where my exodus is? Wouldn’t you think it’s too early to tell? I suppose my human nature is beginning to get scared at the greatness of God’s plans for me. Maybe God is fast tracking me. At first I thought it was the people, but in my heart I know that it’s more than that. It’s more than the scenery, the community, even the dirty ice cream and the kamote tops. It’s something much deeper. The stones are crying out, I hear it.
Here in the Philippines, I’m lifted to the highest I can reach. I would dare anything for God and I’ve experienced riches my heart thought it would never know. I’ve learnt to embrace love in its full strength, to reach a point I could only dream of. I have known more of the person I wanted to become, the me I thought I would only know when senility took over everything else. Is it possible? Indeed, I am far from perfect, but to have come so far is quite inconceivable for me. I’ve forgotten what sorrow or anger is. I don’t know the meaning of bitterness anymore. I’ve learnt the meaning of true forgiveness and giving. How could I have been given so much in such a short time?
As I leave, I feel something unexplainable calls me to return. Could this be the Holy Spirit placing this burden or desire in my heart? I have known the peace of God in my heart before, the peace that surpasses all understanding. But despite this peace that I feel, whenever I think of returning, there comes this unsettling feeling that is calling me. Unsettling only because that call is so strong that it seems a little scary.
In those 4 days, I was really blessed to spend more time with them. I even got to watch Don Moen in concert, which was so amazing because I was upset that I was going to miss it. I can’t remember when the last time I laughed so hard or smiled so much was. Those wonderful days finally came to an end, but as I got ready to board the plane back to Singapore, there were tears in my eyes, but still, I felt much more settled than I did 4 days ago. At Singapore immigration, the queue for Singaporeans always writes ‘Welcome Home’. Usually, I greatly anticipate reading that message, especially when I return home from the UK. Yet this time, it was different. Home? I don’t know. Home is where the heart is, they say. This time around, I left little bits of me all over the Philippines – my sock in Amas, my hairbrush in Puerto, my pillow in Baler and maybe something else in Tacloban, but I think I left my heart behind too. Just for now, I know that the sun has set on my time here this year. But I will wait patiently for that sunrise with great anticipation. Now I know how Abraham must have felt in Moriah, when he met God on the mountain. And now I know that this is why I am so drawn to Palawan, it’s God. It’s the brooding of the Spirit, just waiting for an explosion to begin the next awakening. And I know that I definitely want to be there when that happens.
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