Choose Hope.

Sometimes the most profound and life altering philosophical truths come from the most unexpected and simple of situations.   Something that I forgot to mention about my bureaucratic bouts over the past few days.  I forgot to mention it, and--really, I believe it was the point and telios of the frustrations of the past few days.  

At the pinnacle of my frustrations, at the very point were I had had enough --the point at which you have to fight off the myriad of expletives that seem to wait impatiently at the tip of your tongue, one of these simple truths found me.   It was just after I had talked to the people at immigration for the final time, and they had come to the consensus that the solution to my Visa problem that they take an early lunch break and leave me high-and-dry.  

I left the building in indignant frustration, figuring that the overly complex "system" (for lack of a better word) of blind bureaucracy was just leading me deeper into their endless tunnels of paperwork, offices, lines, hidden fees, and pointless regulations.  I felt that the light that one would assume was at the end of the tunnel was just a myth... and it was at that point that I, in my annoyed resentment of government, crossed the crowded streets of Intramuros, and saw a weathered old man, pulling a cart.   He was dirty, dingy, with a sun-beaten face and a stringy hair, his face seemed like a brown paper bag,  obviously showing the wear from years of working in the sun and heat.   His cart as it proceeded through the gutters was equally as worn. However, it wasn't his cart or his face that caught my attention.  There, on this man who was the picture of humility was worn a shirt that simply read, in big purple letters, "Choose Hope." 

Ouch.  

Although, I was still a little too perturbed and consumed with my own frustrations to fully allow the profound simplicity of that man to sink in, I knew that I had just been told how it was.  And in the short and emotionless glance given to me by the man, he spoke volumes.  Begrudgingly, I listened to what the image of this man had to say, and I had a lot of trouble clinging to the hopelessness in which I would like to have stewed.   No. Hopelessness had to stop there.  And once again, God used the simple, small, broken, humble, unimpressive, unremarkable, insignificant to do and say significantly more than anyone would have ever expected.