Say Hello To My Little Friend

It's such a little thing. Tiny speck, imperceptible, unnoticeable . . until it starts to move. Then it's influence can be felt. It's there, it's real, and it demands attention.

Lego Wookiee for size reference

Three miniscule millimeters seized me, restricted me, taunted me, and had a profound impact on my life for almost a month. Painful days, sleepless nights, body held ransom by three millimeters.

"Just a little one, you may not even feel it pass." The Urologist's dismissive words rung in my head at around 2:30 this morning as I sat in our "hobbit hole" downstairs bathroom silently tracking every traveling millimeter as this foreign body scratched and clawed it's way free from me. In the end, the second leg of the journey was much easier than the initial excursion from kidney to bladder, but none-the-less, I was well aware of its evacuation.

But how is a kidney stone related to the Gospel? Jesus lived the perfect life that I could not, died the punishing, separating death that I deserved, and rose again; defeating death to rule and reign as King of heaven and earth. Turning from sin and putting your faith in the God who offers true peace and rest secures eternity with Him. But, how does this change the way that I look at my life at two in the morning as I arch and moan through the sweaty, teary, nauseous, feverish, kidney stone dance?

"How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire!" (James 3:1-12) Just like a bit guides the horse to obey, this small spark in my side had me prancing to a tune that I wanted to forget. Though I need to remember and apply James' admonishment to beware the trouble my tiny tongue can cause in grumbling and gossip, ultimately, this was not the truth to be discovered in my squirming contemplation.

When Paul spoke of the thorn in his side, the Lord comforted him with the words "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:7-10) In weakness and frailty, clothed in human vunerability came the King, a suffering servant at whose presence one day every knee will bow.

Jesus challenged us to consider the ants, to look to the birds of the sky and the flowers in the fields and see how the Father cares for us. The little things matter to our big God. That's good for us because we are little. Maybe that is why we have been drawn to help pregnant women, carrying the smallest, weakest, most vulnerable. We intend to open a satellite birthing clinic to give check-ups to the women who can't afford to make it to the main clinic. We've been scouting out several squatter locations talking with the often overlooked to learn about their needs; to hear their stories.

During our brief time together, I carried my stone with me as we visited many people in our city, bursting at the seams with the hungry, needy, and lost. As we search for the place that can most benefit from a satellite birthing clinic, all we see is need. We want to establish a ministry with every step that we take. Every child's smile says "bring the Gospel to me." Every pregnant mother, hands resting on belly, toddler pulling at pants, heart filling at the prospect of a closer check-up that doesn't cost 120 pisos one way, tells me through her eyes that she too needs Good News. 

Ronaldo's wife's smile is wide as she leads us to her cobbled together, dirt floor house, windows boarded up with last years billboards. Panganay (the oldest) is at the neighborhood school and her other three peek out from behind their mommy fortress as the foreigners sit on the bench in their front room that also functions as their bed. Our nurse/guide/interpreter explains that Ronaldo's hernia keeps him from construction work and the clutch is weak on his trisykle. You can't collect fares when your transport can't make it up the side of the mountain where your community is nestled. So, this soon-to-be fifth will go to an adoption house in hopes for a better life both for new baby and current family, but there is another issue.

Praying with Ronaldo and his family.

"What advice do you have for Ronaldo? He is doing drugs," explodes the very direct question in an indirect culture that catches both me and Ronaldo off guard. Stunted and broken Tagalog escapes my lips as I try to connect with personal stories of how those I know have struggled with trying to heal or escape pain, suffering, and loss by turning to a temporary fix. "The shabu (methamphetamine) is a liar," I mange to get out with help in translation. "It tells you that it will fix the pain, but it only wants to control you." Ronaldo shakes his head in agreement almost imperceptibly and refuses to look at my face. I tell him that I don't see shabu when I look at him, but I see someone made in God's image, a person of value and worth, a man that can contribute to a community as I encourage him to not isolate himself, but to be with people.

"Repent, turn from this drug that wants to make you a slave and turn toward the one who offers freedom. Jesus is truth and He won't leave you like the temptations will." After more words and prayers, I put my hand on his shoulder and thank him for having us in his home as he wipes the sweat from his brow and chugs the biggest glass of water I've seen all day. It reminds me to drink more as I step through the door into the tropical sun.

There are so many Ronaldos. So many Ms. Ronaldos. The work is so big, and we are so small. I feel little, weak, and inadequate as we cram back into our little car and start to discuss where the need is most acute. I can't feel down for long though, because my stone won't let me.

"Judge me by my size, do you?" (to know how my stone sounds, be sure tosay this in a Yoda voice)

I took a picture of a cute little puppy in the community for Isaac

I remember that it is not my job to save the Philippines. I am just a messenger, I'm not the rescuer. I'm not the one to reconcile, it's not up to me to build God's kingdom; Jesus has that well in hand.  I'm just a witness, charged to use my voice to tell what the King is doing.

Just the same, God hasn't asked me to help every Ronaldo find a job or to put a smile on the face of every street kid. It is sufficient for me to trust and obey. As our family endeavors to love God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and strive to love our neighbors as ourselves; we remember that God likes to use the small and the weak to show his strength. I'm okay with being small, and weak, and foolish, because my God is big, and strong, and wise.

I just need to travel along, a foreign body, scratching and clawing, making my presence known just enough for my voice to be heard, declaring that there the King is coming so the day is at hand to repent and believe.

Now, don't take this as gospel, it came to me during a fever; but maybe, the kingdom of heaven is like a kidney stone. It's such a little thing. Tiny speck, imperceptible, unnoticeable . . until it starts to move. Then it's influence can be felt. It's there, it's real, and it demands attention.


"He put another parable before them, saying, “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field.  It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”
He told them another parable. “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.”" (Matthew 13:31-33)