My Montalban Gets A Face-Lift

My dear, if i wasn't a very strong man, i would cry reading your mail. im so happy for you about your mission in montalban, you are the one who discover montalban and who open the mission there and now you are there. its so nice. i remember my dream to work only in montalban. it was a dream and you fulfil it i know it was your dream... si its just. my life is no there. your life is there. thats god will.

The first part (unedited) of a long, emotional e-mail from my first "mission partner" and good friend, who, by God's mysterious design and circumstance, had to cut short his mission in this country and return to Europe. It's hard to believe that it's been more than a year since that first night we went up to the hills, when God made me realize exactly what a blessing this place and its people would be in my life. I like to call it "my Montalban," for I've seen its evolution, from the very first day we followed "our" families up there after their homes were demolished, to the days when we had to make do without electricity or water, to the days of despair and depression...

God always becomes real to me in the way He changes people's lives...and I've been so privileged to witness so many, many lives transformed by His grace. His hand and His handiwork are apparent whenever a streetchild, who has allowed the love of God, as channeled through a caring Christian, to penetrate his scarred and wounded heart and finally begin to see his worth as a child of the Almighty, beloved and beautiful in the Father's eyes, and to change his life in loving response. It's the same thing with the "village" in Montalban - from a depressing, desolate, desperate place of "exile," it has become a city of hope. A city of God, according to Gari, one of our friends who went up with us last Sunday to document the miracles that were taking place in "my" Montalban.

Our God is a God not only of providence, but of abundance...He removed these people from the only homes they knew - kicking and screaming perhaps in the beginning - and put them under real roofs, within four walls that would not collapse in the storm, in homes they could call their own and pass down to their children. But He did not end there. He provided them with means of making a living through concerned Christians eager to share their skills, so that the villagers would no longer return to the hovels and makeshift shanties of Quezon City. He gave their children a better chance at a quality education, since public teachers in the provinces are more dedicated and less stressed-out than their Manila counterparts. He sent His laborers up to the hills to deliver the Good News at least once a week, to assure the "diaspora" children that they would never be abandoned. And, this Christmas, He beautified His people's humble homes through the efforts and generosity of fellow Christians who wanted to make "my Montalban" a better place to live in.

Vince would probably shed buckets of tears if he could see what "our" Montalban is turning out to be. I know I do...because the assurance and confirmation that God is alive and well, and loves His children very, very much, would bring anyone to weep in sheer awe and gratitude. "My Montalban." I wonder what it will look like next year. I can't wait. :-)