#FeelingBlessed

I use that hashtag often enough when I post to Instagram...I use it when I feel the Lord speaking to me, reminding me of His presence and unwavering love.

Upon arrival in Boracay, I was almost instantly in that "feeling blessed" mode. The water was crystal blue, the sounds of the ocean poured through the windows at my gorgeous hilltop villa, the people were unbelievably friendly, and I saw and felt God's presence in so many ways. From the small churches scattered along the overcrowded streets, to the not so hidden message of "God is Love" painted on the first trike I took, I knew God was at work in the Philippines. Over the course of the week I spent there, I saw more people in Christian t-shirts than I've seen in any other part of the world. When asking for the wifi password at a beach front bar, the lady said it was "God bless you," and made sure to remind my friend and me that it was spelled with a capital G. I cried....seriously. After living in a country where He is not the main focus of many people's lives, I truly felt blessed to be visiting the Philippines where I could see Him "doing His thing."

It's hard for me to travel because I always judge how hospitable people are. Coming from Charleston, I suppose I expect all cities to be friendly and welcoming, but unfortunately I have found that they are not. I was pleasantly surprised with the kindness that I encountered in the Philippines. Everyone, I mean everyone, spoke, "Good morning ma'am." People offered to help carry our bags, to escort us, to take us around the island. Granted, some of this may have been solely for the tips, but still, you could feel their warmth and genuineness. I've been to many places where this is not common and it always turns me off of a place when the people are not welcoming.

On Thursday afternoon after a day at the beach and too much sun, my friend and I thought we would go sit at a beach front restaurant and have a snack. We opted for a place I'd read about on Trip Advisor...Epic. It was a really beautiful space in that it was very clean and open. A lot of what you find on the island of Boracay is older and often quite run down. Don't get me wrong, there are nice places too, but the contrast between the spaces is overwhelmingly drastic.

Epic is a restaurant/bar that, to my understanding, gets a little night club-y after hours. For our afternoon visit, it was calm and family friendly.

We ordered a plate of nachos and a few bottles of water before later I requested a beer.  We ate and relaxed, people watching, for a good hour or more. It was after eating when I had just received my beer that an older gentleman stumbled across our path. He stopped in front of our table but didn't speak, rather he just pointed to his foot. I could see that it was bleeding. Not sure what to do, I froze momentarily. My empathic vibes started working overtime and I began to cry as he walked away. You may think I'm crazy, but his soul was calling out to me, begging me for help.

I could take it no longer so I reached for some napkins and my bag of wet wipes and headed over to where he'd fallen. He was next to a beach chair about 10 yards away. I walked over to him and asked what was wrong. I spoke to him almost as if he were a child, lovingly and with patience as he wasn't really speaking back. After a few moments of me trying to encourage him to clean his foot with the wipes (I've had too many blood born pathogens classes to have done it myself without gloves), I asked if he'd eaten today. He said no and so I gave him a little money, what equals a dollar or so...pathetic. Then I walked away, but he continued to pull at my heart strings.

When I returned to the table, I no longer wanted my beer. I sat there a few moments and was amazed to see the staff from the restaurant gather a first aid kit and a pitcher of water. They went over the the man and cleaned and bandaged his foot for him. As they did so, a crowd gathered around. This made me angry...he was not a spectacle at which to be stared. I prayed and prayed for him and just couldn't let go.

When the staff came back and the man was left resting on the the lounge chair, I asked if they would prepare a meal for him. The hostess first said if she did, that he'd just ask for money or something more. I told her that during the few minutes he and I spoke, he never asked for anything from me. She seemed to change her heart and she shared with me that he had been abandoned by his family, Koreans, she thought. They had all come to the Philippines together but apparently they left him alone when they relocated. My heart sank even further.

As the man, who only could share with me his name to be "La," had only one tooth, ordering food was not the easiest task, but the hostess helped me choose a rice dish that is liked by the locals. I ordered him a bottle of water as well. When it was all prepared, I took the food to him and patted him on the shoulder telling him to take care of his foot. "Salamat" he repeated, "thank you." My heart was overflowing with worry for him. I wanted to take him home with me, to offer him more. I wanted to speak with him about God's love but for whatever reason, whether it be my own fear, Satan's interference, or something else, I didn't. I have prayed for him every day since I met him and I am sitting here this morning writing and crying, as usual, over the blessing that came to me on a beach in Boracay. If you are reading this, please lift up the man I know as "La" and ask that he, if he doesn't already know the Lord, cross paths with someone else who will be braver than I. Please remember him in your prayers and while you're at it, remember all of the island of Boracay as it was a truly awesome thing to feel God's presence there.