Experience with 120 Inner City Kids

(There are 2 videos to the right)

This was a day of 120 Cinderellas, and we didn't truly realize this fact until later. We have never posted this many pictures on one blog and I think you will understand why when you see them.

This story takes a heart wrenching twist at the end, so be sure to read all the way through.

It is said that Manila has almost 1,000,000 kids that roam the streets on any given day. Many of them malnourished and far to many orphaned. So we found out that a church in the inner city had a vision to reach out to these children and we asked if we could participate.

The church is in the densely populated area of Manila called Tondo. Pastor Nomer Trinidad and his wife Sonia have a special burden for these children. When we walked into their neat, and air conditioned church, we could hear the children singing upstairs in the sanctuary.



Their voices were strong and beautiful. In fact, we were amazed that these were "street kids" and not the normal Sunday School crowd, by the way they sang.






Sister Sonia Trinidad, the pastor's wife, has a real gift for leading children and we were amazed at how orderly and behaved the children were.





After all, these were "street kids" weren't they?




They all had name badges so that when the church bus goes into the neighborhood not just any kids can get on and score a free meal.

I spoke for just a few moments and used the story of David and Goliath.

To illustrate the story, our son Jordan, who seems like a giant to these kids, played the part of Goliath. A small, little guy named Anson, played the part of David. (Remember Anson, he comes back into the story later.)

These children are faithful, they come every single Saturday.

They are taught things like, honesty, self esteem, personal hygiene.

In fact, one of the lessons they teach them is how to brush their teeth. This is a new concept to these kids who live on the street.

They are taught practical, as well as biblical principles.

(We are hoping to be able to come back and give each one of these kids a tooth brush and some toothpaste.)

After I spoke, Sister Sonia invited the children to pray, and did they ever pray! It just flowed from them like water from a spring.

No one was disorderly, the Children's Staff didn't have to spend their time coercing, or corralling, they just went into a place of brokenness.

Little hands raised, and eyes welling with tears... they prayed.

They prayed for a good while, and we tried to touch every one of them.

We asked if there were any sick among them and several came to the front and we anointed them with oil.

We prayed for God's protection over everyone of them too.

Then it was announced that "Brother Jeff, Sister Brenda, Jordan and Kori, have sponsored a meal for ALL of you." The kids were overjoyed.

They were getting a hot meal, a full meal today! (Morgan you are in on this too).

So, while the very efficient and organized staff was getting the meals served, the kids sat orderly, awaiting their turn with patience. I guess being familiar with hunger teaches them that, because they didn't even begin to resemble some kids I have seen in America when they wanted something.

The staff brought out plates to the smallest children, and the bigger kids formed a line and picked theirs up from the ladies at the front.The Tondo church is divided into four ladies groups and they take turns each Sunday staffing the children's ministry. No one gets weary with well doing this way. Even the smallest children ate the entire meal. I mean, they cleaned their plates!

Jordan made friends with so many and was used by God today. Exposure to things like this a few times is the cure for the common teenager!

Anson, (above) the little guy who played David in our illustration.

Pastor Nomer said that most of these children wore clothes that came from the dump. Their parent's made their meager living from rummaging through trash.

Tim Rutledge was able to join us for this deal. Tim and his wife Kim have felt that they need to adopt a child from somewhere in Asia.

He had traveled 26 hours from Alexandria to Manila, arriving last night, but when he heard what we were going today he said, "Shoot yeah I'm going!"

A Staff member with a child.

This little girl (below) stole our hearts... ok, they all did, but she was just so cute, like a china doll.

After they had eaten each child received a few pieces of candy and immedialtyl began to trade

Picture time!!!!!

When Sister Sonia announced that it was picture time, these kids came out of their chairs. They had been so calm, and organized until now, and then happy bedlam ensued.

Kori was joyfully mobbed and was loving every minute of it.This little girl grabbed her and would not let go.

Any of you that know Tim knew exactly where he would be.

The little girls seemed to gravitate to him.

They were all competing for attention.

Tim and Kim are personally sponsoring the next three dinners for these kids. He gave Pastor Nomer the money on the spot.

The combination of a full stomach, a touch from God, and a whole lot of love from people caused these children to light up like the sun, moon and stars.

If you want to have a lift to your day... no your month... no your life... get in on something like this! These kids will change your life!

This one, like so many, was cute and had loads of personality.

Then, it was time to go home. They didn't want to go, and we didn't want them to leave. It felt like OUR kids were going, and we didn't know where.

They boarded the church bus with smiles, cheers, and "Thank you!" shouted out the bus windows.

They reached for Tim out the window and with misty eyes, Tim reached for them.

We watched them go and everyone of us said, "I want to see where they live."

We had been told they were "squatter" kids and that they lived in poverty, but we had no idea what we were about to find.

We waited until the bus was out of sight and then followed them.

As we drove our driver pointed to a hulking mountain in the middle of these concrete government housing units and said, "That is Smokey Mountain."

A chill went down my spine. The infamous Smokey Mountain! The place where the first saints of Manila were won from back in the early '70s. It was the Manila dump for many years. So many years that a "mountain" had risen from the years of trash.

Thousands had built shanties on this mountain until there were "cities" all across this smoking, pile of rotting debris. Fidel Ramos, when he was president of the Philippines, closed it down as it had become an iconic symbol of third world poverty in the Philippines.

He had built all these concrete apartment buildings and moved the population of the shanty towns into them.We watched as the children disappeared into the cavernous, dark opening of one of the monuments to poverty.

"Our" children, the children we had just held, prayed with, fed, become friends with, laughed with...

How was it even possible that "our" children could be running into one of these terrifying places?

After they disappeared I went into the building, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of them, but they were gone. In their place was a scene from my nightmares.

There were no lights visible anywhere. Clothes were hanging all throughout the spacious inner court. Children were everywhere, as were adults. Some were taking baths in buckets, some were cooking on fires, some were in groups talking.

They all stopped to watch me when I walked in. I didn't feel threatened, even though this area is known for its high crime.

I just felt so out of place. I had shoes on. It was obvious that I had eaten well, perhaps too well.

I put my camera up to take a picture, then I stopped. I was in their home, uninvited. This was not a zoo! I put the camera down and said a silent prayer for them instead.

We left that place and drove by a part of Smokey Mountain. It's ragged cliff face was visible from the road, and you could see the layers of the the filth of ages.

Strata's of waste, generations of people living on waste, a legacy of outcast.

No wonder the Trinidad's teach these children self esteem.

We didn't go far when our driver, a church man, said, this is where some more of those children live.

I took pictures here because I was out in the open. Children were everywhere you looked.

And here we found Anson.

He had played the part of David, and now my words echoed in my ears, "You can beat any giant. God wants to be your partner." Things to that effect.

But now we were staring at Anson's giant face to face, things seemed a little different now. It isn't just up to God, it is also MY responsibility too!

We fed him once. That is great. But what about shoes?

He doesn't have any.

What about a tooth brush?

He probably doesn't have one of those either.

What about clothes that DIDN'T COME FROM THE DUMP?

I remembered Anson when he came up to quote his memory verse. That was great, but I am compelled to go beyond the words of the bible and actually BE the bible.

We are going back to Anson's world and we are going to invite anyone else that wants to come also.

It is easy to be a missionary. You can be one for a week. Don't think you can?

Can you help feed a child? Can you give a pat on the head? Can you gather clothes from your church, box them up and send them over? Can you take your family vacation to a place like Anson's world just once, instead of Mickey Mouses'?This is not just a thing to feel good, this is bible... remember that thing about doing stuff for the least of these? If you think this is for you, please let us know. There is so much that can be done, with so little.

Our family spent about $100 of our personal money today and it was one of the greatest experiences of our entire lives. Can Mickey beat that?

With the Captain and former cult leader

Few people know how to show hospitality like the Filipino and did we have a good 'ole time today!

Green mango, rice, jicama (white root), watermelon, and the king of all fruit, the Philippine mango were only part of the feast today.

It was Sunday and we were privileged to be in a brand new church that was full of great stories.

The pastor, Captain Noel Mayor (pictured in the purple barong below) is a captain in the Philippine police force. He is head of security for the Manila Airport complex, which is a job with great responsibility. Many of you who have visited the Philippines have been greeted by the Captain. It is quite an experience to walk through the airport with him and have dozens of people salute as you pass.

Pastor Mayor has only been a pastor for 3 years but is about to start his fourth church! He is a man of a driving passion, a natural leader of men and a lover of truth and righteousness.

He could not do what he is doing without his wife, who is a realtor. She laughed as she commented on her husband's plan to start his fourth church, "Again? Starting churches cost so much money!" She works so hard to help provide the necessary funds to open up all these new works.

Another great story in this church is Assistant Pastor Condicion (in the salmon colored shirt).
Just a few years ago, Pastor Condicion was the second in command in a local Philippine cult that operated north of Manila in the mountainous area of Dona Remidious.

Just a few years ago he renounced the cult and became a Pentecostal bringing about half of the cult's members with him. Brother and Sister Condicion have 6 talented children who are an invaluable part of the church.

We were so impressed by the spirit of worship this church had and the surprising number of talented members in a church so young. It seemed like everyone could either sing or play some sort of instrument.

Jordan and Kori pictured with some of the young people of the church.


The Condicion family. The youngest son is the drummer, the other son is the keyboard player, the youngest daughter, (to the right) was the bass player and the three other girls were the singers. Not only did they sound great, they were true worshipers.

We had planned to go the the location where the former cult was today, but it was deemed to dangerous for us to go at this time. The area is known for its communist rebel activity so we will have to go to Kalawakan in the future.

Mom found her way HOME today.

When Mom's feet hit the ground today, she knew this was her day to come home.

Mom's life came unhinged 7 years ago when Dad passed away, and in many ways I understand because his passing rocked my world too.

But in Mom's case, how can life NOT be wrecked when your childhood sweetheart since you were a little girl of 13 is suddenly absent.

Kenny was gone, and in her grief, she lost her moorings, and began to drift away from the safe harbor they had enjoyed together for almost 40 years.

Through the motions of pain, she left what she once knew, and when she finally became fully aware of her condition, she didn't really know how to get back.

Mom found something that would pass the time away, but in an ever increasing slide her activities took her further and further from His house and the things she once knew.

My mom and dad were always anchors in the churches they attended. They were friends of the pastors and their family's. Dad was always a head usher, or played some sort of key role, mom was always joined with the pastor's wife in almost every church activity. Praying people through in the altar, serving food, decorating the church, caring for the pastor's wife when she was ill.

I just never got used to mom being so far from all of that.
So many times, Mom would call me, "Bren, don't stop praying for me. I miss the presence of God!" And each time my soul would rend from top to bottom, wishing there was something I could do to help her get back. Prayer was all I had, prayer and a "never surrender" attitude that refused to let mom go. It turned out to be enough.

I just knew that one day she would make her way back home, to a familiar place. You see, she's been a stranger in a far country. She couldn't fit in. I remember telling her that I pray that wherever she is and wherever she goes that she would still feel God's presence and feel His arm around her.

She would try to have a good time, and I'm sure at times she was enjoying parts of it, but then a song would come to her and before she knew it, she was humming a tune from her native country and the sweet presence of God would surround her.

I'm thankful for that because that was one of my prayers. Prayers that she would never be able to get away from the presence of God.

I have prayed and fasted for her many, many, many days. Even when I wouldn't understand the choices she was making, all I could do is love her and pray for her.

Beverly Brady has prayed whole prayer shifts praying for my Mom, and we've had many chats about her.

Terry and Melani have taken her in just like family. They have loved her unconditionally.

Sis. Vesta has prayed and talked with her many times about coming home. If any of you know Sis. Vesta, you know that when she prays for you something 'will' happen.

To all of the old friends that I would see at BOTT or somewhere else, thanks for always asking about my Mom and praying for her.

I thank God for old friends in Sacramento who welcomed her back this past Sunday.

We can NEVER give up on people. We have to love them. We can't judge them. We have to try and understand them.

I'm so thankful today that Mom has come home. I knew she would someday. She is an anointed handmaiden of God, possessing many talents and abilities that are so useful to God's Kingdom. She can give a awesome bible study and she knows THE WORD.

I can't help think about Kenny Mabrey and what he saw and felt today.

Dad, by God's grace we'll all see you soon.

There was a time in my life when my life came unhinged and I left the church. Mom, you never gave up on me, it was your love, prayers, and advice that made me crawl into that closet and stay there until all the pieces came back together, and I came out of there with a made up mind to never leave Jesus again. Mom, you have thanked me for not giving up on you and for praying for you, well thank yourself because I was just doing what you taught me to do.

I love you Mom.

Fox News coverage of Good Friday

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,340218,00.html

Who Met Him On That Hill?

My eyes turned away involuntarily as he passed. I had seen too much already.

It wasn't all the blood that caused a revolting shiver to pass through me, it was what all this meant. Conflicting feelings such as anger, compassion, nausea and a real desire to get as far away from this place as possible, were all taking turns leading my emotions.

Anger because, someone, probably a religious leader, had told him this was the Way.

Nausea, well, that was obvious, and so was the desire to escape this place.

But it was the compassion that began to exert itself over the rest. I felt so sorry for him.

I turned back to him after he began to make his way up the "Hill." Staggering, he knelt in front of that center cross.

He is devout, no one can question that fact.

He is not afraid of sacrifice, the blood flowing down his back was crimson testimony to that.

He had just endured one of the world's most extreme religious rites, willingly.


I watched him there for a while and a question began to take form...

Who met him on that hill?

Was it Jesus, or something else?
What do you think?

Crucifixion Friday

Warning! This posting is not for the squeamish.

Crucifixion Friday

"I think Jesus is sad today."
These were the words spoken by Kori, our 17 year old daughter after witnessing the events of this day.
Good Friday dawned in Manila with an eerie quite in the normally bustling city.
Ayala Avenue, the "Wall Street of the Philippines," was devoid of cars and we drove out of the city headed to the site of the crucifixions.

Our destination was in the province of Pampanga in the city of San Fernando and the barrio of Cutud.

It was here we found the people and for the next 4 hours found it hard to navigate in the crushing crowds and stifling heat.

I will probably never do this again. There really is no words to explain the spiritual oppression. The closest I can describe it is to say, this must have been a similar atmosphere as in times past when they beheaded people in the town square or set the condemned aflame in a bonfire of public judgment.

The scenes were gruesome yet the crowd was festive, almost giddy with the sight of so much blood. Vendors were selling balloons and other party wares, baby chickens were painted bright colors and were for sale everywhere you looked. People laughed, ice cream trucks played carnival music, and cameras and video cameras were in almost every hand.

We were trying to find a parking place when they first started coming past us.

I jumped out of the vehicle and began shooting pictures.

This was to be the first of many groups of staggering, bleeding, suffering, misguided souls.

Their backs had been sliced in ribbons and then as they walked, they swung whips with a clump of wooden rods tied at the end, to keep the blood flowing.

When they walked by, we lowered our umbrellas to shield ourselves from the splattering blood.

There was blood everywhere they went, covering the village's walls, cars, and people who lined the way.

Their faces were covered to hide their identity, and also to mask the grimaces of pain.

As they walked by, I wondered what their individual penance was. Each person had cut a deal with God, "If you heal my mother, I will do penance 7 years." Or, things like, "I am sorry for the crimes I have committed, so I will do penance 3 years."

The wooden mallet in this man's hand was one of the tools used to cut the initial wounds. It was embedded with rows of razors and was plowed down the backs to get the blood flowing.

They stopped at each Catholic church and laid down to receive more wounds, and more beatings. In this church the flagellants appeared to be children, just small, frail bodies. They laid down and children began to beat them with sticks and with whips.

It was particularly disturbing to see just how much they allowed the children to take part.

Here are more children beating the backs of the men. They swung the whips and sticks with a pronounced sense of accomplishment.

The children seemed mesmerized by what was going on.

Instead of playing "Cops and Robbers," the children of this village play "Crucified and Soldier" with every child desiring to play the part of the one crucified.

We don't know for sure, but these children seemed to be following their father. They were walking between the crowd control rails which were reserved for the participants and family. They were not enjoying it as much as the others, they were crying.

They need to be freed from this sort of mental bondage. Jesus doesn't want this boy to grow up thinking he needs to suffer to get God's attention.

This man collapsed from the ordeal.

No one stopped to help him, they just walked by.

He eased back against the barrier, cameras clicking, and sat for a long while.

The loudspeakers were playing praise and worship songs, songs we sing. Yet no one was worshipping.

The flagellant's path made its way up to Golgotha, the hill with the three crosses. They prayed at the crosses for a time and then headed back down, whip coiled in hand, wounded by a religion that failed to tell them about the amazing Grace of the Cross.

After the flagellants passed, wave after staggering wave, here came the 16 volunteers who would be crucified at this place for the 2009 season. This is only one of many sites across the Philippines where this scene was being played out.

They called it a "Passion Play." Yet there was no play to it.

Roman soldiers, carrying real nails made their way up to hill and got ready for the crucifixions.

Here was the first to be crucified. These people gain great notoriety from doing this and are quite popular in this country.

Strangely there was no music playing during this critical time. There was no reverence. The public address system kept asking people to respect what was going on, yet they never did. Notice the Roman soldier with the video camera; they kept asking cast members to stay in character and to quit filming and taking pictures.

The bright polished nails were pounded into his hands, and he was raised to the sky.

They couldn't wait for the crucifixions to begin. The heat had subdued the crowd as we stood there for hours past the official start of the crucifixions. However, when the hammer hit the nail, they came alive.

The "thieves" did not get nailed to the cross, just the center one, and 15 more were to follow.

Kori was standing beside me, leaning against the railing and I heard her say, "I think Jesus is sad today."

One was enough, we didn't stay for the other 15, instead we went to one of our nearby churches.

Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty!

We went from that horribly oppressive experience to the exact opposite.

These children are being raised by apostolic parents who sheltered them from what was going on just outside.

We laughed and smiled and let these children lead us back from where we had just been.

We sat with Pastor Sam, his wife, and some of the saints and they told us stories of people who had been rescued from what we had just witnessed.

Here I am with Pastor Sam and a key member in the church, Brother Rolly. Rolly lives in the exact place where we had just witnessed the crucifixion and has been instrumental in bringing scores to the Truth.

In fact, he owns a fish farm where he raises tilapia, and in his holding tanks they baptize person after person. They baptized several this week, in fact.

Jordan with Dugong Go and Aaron, with Mt. Arayat in the background.

It was so refreshing... Brenda asked little Aaron if he had the Holy Ghost and he said, "No." She asked him if he wanted it and he said, "Yes!"

As saddened as Jesus must have been by all the people hurting themselves to gain His attention, he must have been just as happy by little Aaron so easily believing he could get the Holy Ghost.

Kori was tired from the day, but so glad to be with our brothers and sisters who made her feel like family.

The day was long but it is people like Aaron who make it all worth while. When you look into his eyes you see the incredible potential of a people who are willing to do ANYTHING it takes to get into the kingdom.