A short... Pause.

I feel like I should say something, however, I haven't the slightest idea what to say, honestly. Or maybe... I just don't know where I start. These past few days have been surreal in many ways. I've come back home from the other side of the planet and reentered my stateside life. This simple act , coupled with the staggering reality of "reentry shock" and having to adapt to old customs and ways of speaking and acting can be confusing and unsettling to say the least.

All this aside, I have recently watched my little sister walk down the isle... arm in arm with my father. I stood on the stage in support of her and her new husband. I watched both of my parents endure the emotional roller-coaster that events such as these inspire. I watched my sister, Leah Davis, return down that same isle as Leah Wadlington. I watched her greet and embrace full-grown, adult friends of ours, who--last I remember--were little kids playing at our house. I then watched Leah Wadlington walk through the foyer of my childhood church, get into a Limousine with a wonderful man who I am getting to know, and watch the both of them ride off together for their honeymoon.

Back at home, I have noticed a close childhood friend of mine has become very, very old. The 14-pound, white and brown Shih-tzu who watched me grow up, who played with me in the backyard and threw his hip out trying to go down our slide, now simply lays on the floor, wearing his little OSU sweater trying to keep himself warm, since his blood doesn't circulate as well as it used to.

My little brother, on the other hand, is, well... no longer little. When I first left for the Philippines, I could accurately call that small, farming-obsessed, little boy with the high-pitched voice, my "little brother." Now, he sounds like my dad and weighs nearly as much as I do. "Little" doesn't really do him justice any longer.

So much has happened in one-and-a-half years. A lot has changed. A lot has changed even with me. I live over 9,000 miles away. I straddle the lines of two very different worlds, and have left bits of my emotions and myself strung out somewhere in-between.

So here I sit. Alone in my living room in Ohio, after another Christmas, full from another Christmas dinner, listening to my Mom put away the left-overs and explain to the dog one more time why he can't have any more turkey. In many ways this scene is incredibly familiar, but in other ways... especially on the inside, its a scene that is new and a little scary. Its scary because I have been given a new realization of the passing of time, and the unrelenting process of change in my life. This is both wonderful and terrible. I have always loved and embraced change and transition, but there is also the frightening realization that it is, among many things, absolutely unstoppable. All I can do is pause, breathe, and remember the value of savoring every moment in life, taking nothing as mundane or meaningless.

Typhoon Ondoy: My Story

It was about Noontime on Saturday, September 26th when the wedding reception had just come to an end and we received the call. I had been in Baguio with several other students, our Academic Dean and our Dean of Students. The message passed quickly from person to person, “Manila is flooded. APNTS is in the state of emergency and they are seeking approval to serve as a refugee camp for some 200-500 persons.” Many of us from APNTS quickly convened and discussed our options. Pastora Luz Tamayo and her family along with Janary Suyat and a few others from school decided to leave immediately for Manila and started down the mountain on the 7 hour drive to the watery National Capitol Region.

Meanwhile, we returned to the Luzon Nazarene Bible College, where we had been staying. Entering the missions house, we convened in what I imagined to be a war-time briefing for the UN head council. Immediately, out on the table there was a simultaneous unpacking and opening of laptop computers and cell phones. Academic Dean, Dr. Lee San Young and Dean of Students, Beverly Gruver scrambled to convey the appropriate approvals back to Manila to get the refugees into a safe place on campus. Keys were another issue. With the President of the school in the states and the two Deans in Baguio with us, and other pertinent people dealing with the flooding of their own homes in Manila, access to campus buildings were limited.

They need access to the key box” responded one, reading a text message.

“Tell them to break the lock,” Dr. Lee quickly returned.

As text messages bounced back and forth, I quickly searched for radar images, new briefs, traffic reports, and webcams shots from Manila, while talking online to whoever I could in Manila to ascertain how bad the situation was for the surrounding area, and how passible the roads would be if we left immediately. I found that water was chest-deep in the downtown area of Taytay, and up to 10-12 feet in other areas. World Mission Communications, located on APNTS Campus was flooding but controllable. Others on campus relayed that water pipes on campus had broken and clean drinking water had to be purchased for both the refugees and the campus residents.

After a few hours, we heard word from Jana and Pastora Luz that getting home would be impossible tonight as they were stranded on the highway due to high water, and unable to get to even get near Manila. Other text messages quickly following relaying equally dark news for our return to Manila.

We were told that people continued to pour into campus seeking shelter from the encroaching waters. Saturday night, a text message read that 289 people had registered and were being housed in campus buildings at APNTS. Most of the refugees came from Rowenas, a squatter community located behind APNTS on the banks of the creek which flowed through campus. We later learned that at least two children from the community had lost their lives in the flood.

The next morning, Sunday, we spent time together in prayer and worship, and then started out for Manila. Reports came back from Janary and the Tamayos saying that they has only made it as far as Marikina (a municipality about 4 miles away from APNTS) and they were stranded with limited food and water supplies. We were told that local markets had ran out of food and standing water still remained 10 feet high in many areas. We were warned not to come near the Marikina area, but we were still determined to get as close as we could to Manila and APNTS. We continued down the mountain and along the highway toward Manila. As we drew nearer, standing water and heavy cloud-cover met us causing us to question whether or not we should continue.

We had arranged to stay at Angeles Church of the Nazarene with Rev. Agbuya, but as Manila came closer we began to notice charter busses which we knew originated from the Cubao area in Manila. We decided that we would at least try to make it to Central Church of the Nazarene in Cubao. From there we could at least rest for the night and try again in the morning.

Through whispered prayers and with a firestorm of reassuring text messages back and forth from Manila to our van, we made it not only to Cubao but through a large portion of Metro-Manila before encountering the stalled cars and rescuers carrying life-boats. We wove in and out of the small Barangays and winding city streets navigating through higher ground. With paramedics and rescue teams moving in one direction and evacuees moving in the other, we made our way to the opposite side of Taytay, where APNTS was located. Driving through about .5 miles of only 2.5 feet of water we made it to familiar ground and wound our way back to APNTS Campus where work with refugees was well in progress.

It was about 7pm and dinner had just been served to the students and refugees. We arrived, dropped our bags, and immediately began work. Glen and several others worked on setting up a projector to watch a movie with a room full of children. It was amazing to see how willing the kids were to laugh and play in spite of losing homes and many of their possessions to the typhoon. Among the kids, I found a few of the “street kids” that I had known from around the Kaytikling area. We were able to sit and talk a bit of what had happened the day of the typhoon. “sira ang bahay ko” (my house is damaged) he reported and told of his other friends who had no home at all.

Others updated us on some of the unforgettable events of Saturday afternoon. We were told of one man was actually swept away by the currents just in front of campus, and was nearly dropped from the bridge into the raging creek below, however, he was able to grab the side of a building just in time and pull himself to safety. Elsewhere on campus, several landslides and rushing waters caused some shifting in some barrier walls, and entirely destroyed segments of others. One landslide took down a large tree, dropping it some 100 ft into the creek washing it outside of campus and lodging it under a bridge down the street.

We worked the next day from 2am until about 10am watching the refugee site and then distributing crisis relief goods as the refugees returned to rebuild and repair their homes. The rest of the day and week began with prayer together and then quickly turned to the great task at hand, rebuilding, repairing and providing whatever we could to the community around us.

A Brief Confession from a Pathological Superhero...

I'm sorry. I'm afraid that I have a confession to make. Are you ready for this? ...I am not superman. Yes. That's right. I, Jarrett Davis, am NOT Superman. Some of you may laugh at a confession such as this, but... I'm 100% serious here. I am not Superman.

I must confess that I have been deluded by this fantasy from time to time. I get this idea that I should be able to do all things, please everyone, oblige every request, have enough money to pay for school, and then be able to write something "publish-able" in reflection of the things that I have accomplished. Well, let me be the first to attest that... I can not. I can not please all people at all times. I can not always be ready and happy to oblige at all times, while still fulfilling all of my school requirements, AND being able to pay for it all. I can not be a connoisseur of cultural etiquette for the entire Asia-pacific and also western world. I can not spell the word "connoisseur" without referring to spell check.

Now that we have that straight, I would like to tell you of some things that I CAN do. I can be honest (although it is hard, at times). I can tell you when I'm a little overwhelmed (also, difficult). I can give and receive honest affection (but I'm only the honest kind). I can do many things... and I can do those things well, but not everything-- I never have and a never will.

All this being said, I may not (once in a while) not be able to offer you my all. I may (on seldom occasion) be culturally obtuse. There is even the possibility that I may not be practically perfect in every way (and yes, that is from Mary Poppins).

This may seem simple or trite, but I feel that this confession is an imperative for me at this time in my life. I'm NOT superman, nor should I try to BE Superman. No cape, no tights, no red boots or socially awkward red underwear. Just an average, mild-mannered MA-student, who struggles through the day, and is in need of grace just like the next guy.

There. Now, was that so hard?

Grace, peace, and love (at least as much as I can afford),

Jarrett

An additional thought from Jesus' daddy.

Jesus says, "If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him." (John 14:23) Which is beautiful. But what is even MORE beautiful is how perfectly this fits into everything that God is throughout the WHOLE of the Bible

The idea of "making a home with us" is exactly the thought behind the "shekainah" glory in the Old Testament. It was the glory that "filled the temple," and went with Israel, "home" was not here or there, but it was where God dwelled, and that was with THEM. It's cool because the word "Shekainah" actually carries the meaning of "pitching a tent" or "taking up a dwelling," "making a home" and the like. Sometimes we make it so glorious and removed, so... clean and untouchable. But the whole POINT of this word is that it IS touchable. The dwelling, is not removed or high and lofty... it's with us. Here. Revelation 21:3 talks a bit about this glory as well saying, "...the dwelling of God is with men (and women, too), and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God." It even goes on to say that "He will wipe every tear from their eyes." High and lofty? Removed? I think not.

And that is the beautiful paradox of the Christian God.

A good thought from Jesus.

"If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him." - John 14:23

This is beautiful. They will come and make their home with us. How comforting is that? Honestly. This is rest for a weary soul. ;)

Enroute (back) to the Philippines

I write to you from 55,000 feet in the air, in the cabin of a Boeing 747, which seems to be experiencing some wild turbulence, but nothing to deploy the FAA about, feels like we might have sucked up a flock of seagulls along the way. Although, all things considered, this has been a wonderful trip, really. I left Columbus yesterday evening, saying Goodbye to Leah, Mom, Ryan, Kyle, and Becca (--I said goodbye to Dad much earlier in the day, before he left for work). After the warm precession of hugs and final-looks before parting ways, I turned about to find a rather baron airport. TSA officials, looked bored, the the people behind the gate seemed to be stifling a few yawns, all in all, the day before the fourth seems to be the ideal time to fly.

The flights through Chicago, and continuing to LA went off without a hitch, however, my tooth (which is sadly in desperate need of a root-canal) didn't seem to appreciate the the high altitudes and resulting changes in air pressure. For the four and a half hour flight from Chicago to LA I found myself crammed in a window seat with restless legs, a throbbing tooth, and a woman that stood (or sat, rather) between me and the free world (or isle, rather). I did what I could, massaged my legs, sat on my legs, propped one up for a while, danced them about on the floor beneath my seat ( which seemed to be very effective in creating a wonderful atmosphere of awkward-ness between me and the woman next to me). Amid these mind-numbing frustrations, there were some awesome moments of flying over the America's Midwest, the night be her birthday, getting to see the sparkling of the thousands of people across the nation celebrating the fourth doing their American duty of Barbecuing and sending up as many shimmering explosives as their wallets would allow.

Arriving in Los Angeles, I met up with my friend, Ben Boquist, who had just moved into the LA area (literally, he had arrived that day from the four-day road trip from Ohio). Ben had offered me a place to stay that night, so I went to his newly found apartment, rested up and got some IHOP the next morning in Santa Monica, before heading back to the airport to continue my long journey.

A few things absolutely astound me about LA. It is the City that many people have never been to, but yet its the city that, once you get there, you feel like you know it all to well. I say this, because, it's only after going to LA, and then watching just about any American movie, that you realize that every-time you visit the silver screen, you've really been to LA, as well- if only vicariously. Honestly, you can test me on this one... try to drive anywhere in LA, playing the soundtrack to "Ocean's 11" and tell me that it doesn't entire embody the whole experience perfectly. Crazy, it is.

Anyway... that brings us up to the present (or, at least the point at which I wrote this blog) I've got a deliciously airline meal in my stomach, a pillow behind my head, my headphones in... and I've even managed to snag myself a seat in the exit row! It's t-minus 7 hours to Tokyo, the "Alieve" for my tooth seems to be working wonderfully... so I'm going to settle in, and I'll see you when my boredom once again drives me to write another post.

Until then,

Jarrett

Home again?

As many of you may know, I have taken a short break from the South Pacific, and am paying a 2 month visit back here in the land of Ohio. It's been wonderful to get caught up with the people and culture that I have been removed from for the greater part of a year, now. Just last night, I took the time to drive up to Mount Vernon for the evening, were I met up with some of my closest friends. This is not just the group of friends that you, "do stuff" with. These are not the kind of friends that need an agenda or plan, these are the friends with whom you simply "dwell", the kind of friends that you can spend hours with, laughing and telling stories, and joking and remembering the times that you have had together, and somewhere in the midst of everything you realize that, you haven't actually done anything. It was somewhere in the midst of this evening, after the food had been cooked, and the desserts had been eaten, and the campfire had been kindled and the sun had been set that I found myself in one of those moments where you step outside of yourself, and simply watch. It was as if I was so holistically content with entirety of the experience that I wanted to just step back and watch it all happen. It was the same feeling as looking back at an old photo album and remembering a world of warmth and familiarity, and staring at the photos, dwelling on the experiences and memories that they bring back. This was precisely the same experience. I just sat there watching the orange glow of the campfire make the shadows dance across the faces of the people gathered around it. I sat and took in the sounds of the famliar voices, caught up in their dramatic story telling, loud outbursts and boisterous laughter that for anyone else should have been completely disturbing, but for me, it was a chorus that made me feel like everything was just right. I was home, but this home was in no way tied to a place or a particualr building. There were no trinkets or fresh-baked things required to bring me home. Home, for me, is with people. This was a beautiful reassurance for me, because I knew that as beautiful as this "home" was for me. I knew that this home was really big. There were pieces of this "home" here in Ohio, scattered about northern Romania, speckled throughout parts of Korea, and most recently, this "Home" has taken a new and fruitful growth on a little Island Archipelago in the South Pacific, and it was in the reassurance of this "Home" that I could take that little walk outside of myself, and dwell in the beautiful sounds and images of that moment, but rest warmly in the knowledge that there is nowhere where "home" cannot be.

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