A devotional on John 15

I gave this devotional at the beginning of the month, for one of our Servant Partners assignments. The intended audience is my Servant Partners team, but I thought it would be good to share a little of what has been going on for me spiritually since the internship started...I just wish I could say I am truly living this way.

While we were in Manila, I felt a lot of confirmation in God’s calling on my life, a calling which will likely include living some place like Botocan. Edith and I kept saying to each other “I wish we could just stay”.

But of course, there were also a lot of fears of how we would really survive in the long run. I kept finding myself enumerating the practical changes I would need to stay longer: things like nailing boards over the rat-holes, having a bigger bucket in the bathroom and finding a husband who could kill cockroaches for me.

It wasn’t until debrief that I began to focus on the real question: what spiritually would need to change in my life for me to be sustainable in the long run.

And I think this question of sustainability applies not just to living in Manila or Cairo or Mumbai, but to living here in Los Angeles.

This month has been tough: trying to balance a 40 plus hour work week, time in community, studying Luke, team dynamics and homesickness. I have been much more in survival mode here than I ever was in the Philippines.

So the question of sustainability has become very urgent to me: I don’t just want to know how to survive and thrive in some future missions field. I desperately need to know how to do it now.

As I’ve wrestled with this question, I keep coming back to John 15. This is the chapter where Jesus compares himself to a vine, and us to branches. This time of year, I like to read it as a pumpkin vine, and we are the little branches trying to produce pumpkins. Jesus’ points out the obvious: the branches aren’t going to make any pumpkins unless they are connected to the vine. How could they, without any source for water, minerals, and energy. How on earth would a little branch produce a huge golden-orange pumpkin unless the vine was providing it everything it needs? If a branch was silly enough to try to produce a pumpkin without being connected to the vine, what would happen? Nothing. It would just lay there, rotten, brown and dead, maybe with a shriveled up flower molding at the end. It wouldn’t even be worth composting – just toss it in the fire.

So Jesus says “I am the vine; you are the branches. If anyone abides in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing”.

Of course I want to be a branch that bears abundant fruit. But so often I feel like the branch that is not connected to the vine, striving and striving to produce a molded flower.

In this passage there is one word that really jumps out to me as the key to sustainability. This key word is “abide”. Jesus repeats the word abide ten times in thirteen verses: “Abide in me, and I will abide in you…abide in me and my words abide in you…abide in my love…abide, abide, abide.”

To abide means to remain, to dwell, to belong, to live in and as a part of something. The branch abides in the vine by receiving all its sustenance from the vine and by producing fruit that glorifies the vine. The branch is completely dependent on the vine. In fact I suspect that most branches on a pumpkin plant don’t see themselves as separate entities at all – they are just part of the vine which is part of themselves.

Abiding in Jesus isn’t just about getting my needs provided for. Being sustained by him isn’t like getting a glass of water and a piece of bread from the kitchen. It is more like being an unborn baby – being bound by a pulsing umbilical cord to the one who not only supplies all me needs, but who surrounds me and comprises my whole universe.

This is certainly how I need to be sustained right now. There are too many challenges in my life to survive on stolen gaps of time ‘with God’, hastily crammed down my throat with my toast in the morning. I need an umbilical cord from God’s heart to mine, sustaining me throughout the day.

But I find myself still questioning: How? How do I abide in Jesus and allow him to sustain me this way? How do I re-identify myself as part of him, dwelling in him, completely dependent upon him?

Once again, I find myself trying to enumerating practical ways to make me abide better: things like getting up earlier so I can do more Bible study, seeking more accountability, memorizing scripture, or even cutting down my hours at work.

Yet none of these things, valuable as they may be, are how Jesus tells us to abide.

Jesus establishes our basis for abiding in his love for us. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you, now abide in my love” We can be confident in being sustained because the love Jesus has for us is the same infinitely powerful love that sustains the Trinity itself. And, as Jesus states a verse later, the Love we abide in is that love by which he that laid down his life for us.

From this foundation, Jesus immediately moves into exhortation, answering the question of ‘how’ to abide. He states it pretty simply: “If you obey my commands you will abide in my love.”

Edith already talked a lot about the relationship between obedience and our love for God. But here Jesus focuses on the relationship between obedience and our love for others. He doesn’t let us sit around wondering what commands we are to obey. He spells it out “my command is this: love one another as I have loved you”. So the way we abide is by obedience, and obedience ultimately means loving one another.

This a radical shift from my usual way of approaching sustainability. I tend to think of obedience, especially in the area of loving others, as the thing I need to be sustained for...not the thing by which I am sustained.

Certainly in the past few months as I have gotten to know you, I have prayed often to love you all. And have at times found that love growing like a healthy pumpkin, and at other times, found only moldy flowers.

But I am not sure I ever really realized how much a difference loving you all would make in my own sustainability. I didn’t realize that in cooking meals or cleaning the bathroom, in listening to your stories and sharing your laughter, or in praying for you as I drive back and forth to Pasadena, I could find the key to my own abiding.

Loving you all is truly impossible, but so is growing pumpkins. The little branch of the pumpkin vine isn’t seeking to do the impossible, it is simply participating in what the vine is all about. And in loving you I am participating in, abiding in, what Jesus is all about. In some ways, it is a circular argument – loving you all both draws me to and comes through abiding in Christ.

To be perfectly honest, I am still in the first steps of learning what this means. I am still in the flower stage of this pumpkin growing process. Jesus clearly states that loving you will involve laying down my life, and that is a challenging thought. But I am also very excited, because this sustainability is not something I have to change on my own, but something that together we will receive as we obey Christ’s command and love one another. Let us not fail to produce fruit, let us not fail to thrive here in Los Angeles, let us not be dead branches thrown into the fire, because we failed to love one another. Let us together cling to our sustainer and urgently ask him for the love we need. Let us love one another as he has loved us.

A 'poem' reflection on Revelation 3:14-22

While we were in Manila, one of the pastors at the little local church we attended preached on Revelation 3. It seemed so pertinent to me at the time, that I spent a lot of time meditating on the passage. This is one of my meditations, in my haphazard 'poetry' style-

You are neither hot nor cold
you are lukewarm sludge
fermenting in the bottle

You do not provide refreshment
a cool, sweet fountain of joy
Nor healing
hot and strong with truth

You are disgusting
undrinkable

You turn my stomach upside down
until I, God, am ready to vomit

But you are not even aware of your disgusting state
This lukewarm status,
a product of entropy
the slow dilution of time

My ears are astonished at the words you say:
"I am rich; I have acquired wealth and DO NOT NEED A THING"

My jaw drops and my stomach roils.
So blatant the lie
you blithely cling to.
Sheltered in the walls of your malls, your Starbucks
your AC and TV.
This last self deception of a dying soul:
"I DO NOT NEED A THING"

Would you cling to your independence to the last gasp,
wrapped in the tea-cozy of wealth,
while hot and cold drain away,
through the holes in your soul?

Can't you see, can't you realize that you are:

wretched
pitiful
poor
blind
naked

Listen, listen to me -

Stop trying to wrap yourself in clothes that you weave
it is dream-cloth,
invisible,
Your shame is apparent before all the world,
and every wind pulls at the warmth of your blood.

Stop trying to salve your wounds with lotion you make
it is poison
numbing the sore place
to fill it with deadness and pus.

Look, look at me-

My hands are full to overflowing-

Go-

Sell all that you have and give it to the poor
and buy from me treasure that will last

Gold refined in fire - your impurities burned away by suffering
White clothes to wear and erase your shame
Salve for your eyes, so you can see me.

Don't you know, don't you know I love you?
That is why I rebuke and discipline you.
How I long for your earnest repentance!

I am standing here, banging on the door of your heart -
Look, listen, hear!
Come!

Let me in so that we may be community again-
me in you and you in me.

Than I will no longer call you servants but friends.
and you will sit with me and reign
Just as I sit with my Father and reign
Because we overcame.

Reflections on Manila from my roommate

Dear friends

As I continue in the internship, I find myself often mentally returning to my time in Manila. However, I haven't yet written anything that really summarizes what that time meant for me, or what we experienced as a team.

To give a glimpse of that, I am posting a letter my roommate (both here and in Manila) wrote shortly after returning. My roommate's name is Edith, and here is her story:


A Journey of the Heart in Metro Manila

Eight-year old Jenny Paz sat on my lap and cried as I held her for one last time. She wouldn’t play one last competitive hand clapping game called “Bang”. She luckily didn’t have to go to school for the unfortunate reason that her parents couldn’t pay for that day. She had the whole day to say good-bye to us and she did smile for me. She knew that I loved her smile and laughs.
It was our last day in Manila, Philippines and probably the longest Thursday of our lives. Our 18-hour flight back to Los Angeles made our day seem 41 hours long. How do you say good-bye to a people you began to have a heart for and who left you changed forever?
That morning, after clearing the 8 by 8 by 12 foot apartment, made out of plyboards and broken pieces of wood, I sat at a corner looking out the view of Botocan squatter community from the window. As I stared across, I knew that I wouldn’t miss the cockroaches that crawled all night on our walls, the rats that passed along my sleeping bag from one wall to the next, fighting through the dark (because their lights were dimly lit) to get to the bathroom, or taking cold bucket showers. Sure wasn’t going to miss sleeping on the hard floor. But these people…this is their life. Apart from struggling financially, they live in fear that their homes will one day be demolished because their homes are built as illegal settlements. Sad but true, more than 1 billion people in the world live like this. I looked at my stuffed duffle bag and small bag, everything I took for a 3 week stay, and was reminded of the materialistic world. It was my last day and feeling small, I asked loudly, “God, give me strength coming from Your joy. Help me to spread it to those whom I will never see again.”
He answered. It was probably one of the most joyous days of all the days I had in Manila. I was happy to spend more time with the community; the ladies I’ve gotten to know in the alleys when they hand washed their clothes, the children that always ran to me when I walked down the road, and with my homestay family. I’ll never forget Ate Iris, a 28 year old mother, who stayed home taking care of her children Jimuel (8 years, Jopai (5 years), and Jeeanne (2 years), while her husband, Jim, worked as a painter and stayed home on rainy days. Oh it rained every day!
Daniel, who was a 3-month international intern for Servant Partners, was with us that day. We spent our last moments together playing Uno, Memory, and joking with each other. “So, what are you going to do with your destiny?” asked Ate Iris again with a jovial smile. I rolled my eyes and before I knew it, Daniel immediately grabbed a pillow and pushed her with it saying, “You read too many romantic novels!” We laughed and joked some more, until she shed tears again at my leaving.
Convinced, Ate Iris has a hunch for “destinies.” Two times she found Daniel wear the same brown shirt on the days I’ve wore a brown shirt, unintentionally. For her, Daniel is my destiny. For me, Daniel of the Bible is my hero. One night a cockroach walked on my arm and I became greatly frightened and as I prayed a story came back alive to my mind; of Daniel getting out of the lion’s den with no scratch on him and God was encouraging me that I won’t be touched again. But here, I saw something else being at work. As much as I wished I could have stayed longer and remain in the laid-back life of Botocan, I left with a renewed hope. Yes, I was coming into Servant Partners with a wounded heart. Yes, my heart was broken once and twice. But here, God was healing my heart. Renewing that joy again, with that smile I could look across the wide blue clear sky and know He took me where my heart needed to be.
I walked down the ally and heard Jenny Paz calling me, “Edith!” I turned around with a huge smile for her. She cried back, “I will never forget you!” I waved goodbye with a kiss. My heart sunk. I hope to see her in heaven. I pray she will grow to know Jesus Christ and taste God’s amazing Love for her that took me to meet millions of faces of the Earth…to her and to her people.

Second Letter from the Phillipines -

Dear family and friends

This is going to have to be brief, because I've spent most of my internet time reading ike updates. Thank you for the personal notes, especially from those of you who are also experiencing limited internet connections. I wish I could have been in Houston this week to help out with Ike recovery, and just to be with you all in these experiences. But it some ways, we have shared some experiences - all of us have been learning about living simply and how to trust God in unknown situations. But I hope you have not encountered any rats! Actually, I am getting used to the rats. Now I just wake up and clap my hands and sing a little if I hear them in the night. Somewhat annoying to my roommate, however! One suggestion I have for dealing with un-AC is baby powder. You can even buy baby-powder with special cooling ingredients.

Things have been going well here both in terms of team-bonding and community outreach. We had a rough day last Tuesday, with heat and emotionally intense experiences and general exhaustion, but we seem to be on a positive note as we move into our last few days. I've been thinking a lot about what working/living in a place like this for the long-run would look like. One conclusion I have come to is that a husband would be really nice! But that aside, I have a lot of new thoughts of what I need to pursue professionally and spiritually to be prepared for long-term in a poor urban community. I've been keeping a list of people I've seen in our community with overt physical disabilities or limitations, and it is getting long: untreated cleft palates, a child with a congenital lack of nose and eye anomolies, an amputee, a girl with severe scholiosis, a child with a significant burn from the cook-stove, a little boy with CP, and innumerable skin lesions and diseases. It makes me want to bring a team with some surgeons. One little thing you can pray for me is to have wisdom in is treating a nasty infected cut on one of the kids fingers. I have been trying various ointments and bandages on it for about a week now, and it is finally starting to look healthier, but much slower that I would have liked. Pray for me to know wether to keep messing with it or to leave it alone at this point.

Please also pray for peace in my heart as we prepare to go home. I think it would be easier if I was really going home, but LA is more of another mission field, in some ways harder than this one. And I would rather stay here. I just keep reminding myself that I have kids waiting for me. But it will be hard to leave the kids waiting for me on the street every morning and night. I wish I could send you all big hugs and a few kisses too. ...

I will be flying out Thurs at 8 this time, and getting around Thurs PM in california (many hours later) Still no internet at home, however, so I will send out a new update sometime on the weekend or Monday when I am a work. It is pouring rain outside and I've got like a mile to walk to get back home in Botacan. Fun.

Love and hugs Bethany Joy

Pictures: Top - my roommate (in the Philippines) and housemate (in LA) Edith and I on our roof

Bottom: Some of the street kids, including Jobar, who has a congenital nasal abnormality.

Letter from the Philippines - Sept 15th 2008

Dear family and friends







I hope this finds you all doing well and staying dry from various weather. Please forward this to anyone who would be interested. First of all, I love and miss you. Especially Ellie, because my 'host' family has a baby about her age. I keep wondering if she is doing the same things as Ellie. Someday I want to do missions with my family again. Especially with Dad to tell me to take the adventure that comes.



















Things have not been too adventureous here, except an excessive number of rats at night. Last night one woke me up as it was trying to carry a plastic trash-bag through our bedroom. I yelled at it in Tagolag before turning on the light, so all I saw was a strange trash bag in the corner of the room, but I know the culprit. Please pray for my roommate and I to sleep peacefully.

Been meditating a lot on what it means to have my heart break for the people around me and to love until it hurts on such a short trip. I am bonding, but it is scary, because we are leaving so soon. I wish I could stay for six months - tired of the short-termness of my life. Someday... Also been meditating on John 15 with relation to our team and bonding. We are doing well, but still really in the beginning stages of becoming sustainable community. Some beautiful steps in the process though. Pray for my teammates, who seem to be struggling more ( and me as well) with the day-in-outness of living in a squatter community. And pray for us to really be able to impact this community for Christ, even in this short time. Pray for ability to transcend language and cultural barriers and show God's love. I am praying for all of you, especially those effected by the storm (Ike)...























Love and hugs.







Bethany Joy












Pictures: Top - Playing slap jack with Jacob, one of the local kids
Bottom- The view from the roof of my 'apartment'.

Return of the Bethany

Dear friends and family and sundry other readers.

It's been a month since I last updated, and nearly two months since I shared anything of worth. Under normal blogging circumstances, I would just let that time slide and resume where I am now.

However, where I am now has been so shaped by this missing time, that I feel the need for some slight re-cap.

So over the next few days I will be posting (in no particullar order) some of the emails, journal entries and devotionals I have written lately. Hopefully they can speak for themselves, but I may add an editorial comment or picture here and there.

Bethany Joy