Lina and I are nearing the end of a three month journey to Asia, to be with family and friends in the Philippines and also on the mainland of Southeast Asia.  I experience our lives as a ministry of listening and connection.  As we travel, we reunite with old friends – a childhood playmate whom Lina had not seen for 52 years; our beloved Bac Hien in Hanoi, now in her 90s and in bed most of the time, but still laughing about the times we shared 32 years ago; and many others.  We make new friends.  We bring encouragement and support to people struggling with illness, finances, loss and uncertainty.  We receive their stories and learn from them.

Sometimes we bring together groups of people who don’t know each other but “should” know each other.  I sat and watched the interactions of people involved in three different campus ministries in and around Iloilo City.  Many did not know each other.  Lina took the lead in inviting this group to eat together.  I believe they will now be able to share their gifts with each other.

I can say that Spirit has been journeying with us.  Yet where are the moments of trumpet fanfare when – Ta Da! – Spirit makes a grand entrance?  I remember those!

I went shopping today for toilet paper.  A very prosaic task, and a good time to reflect on that question.  As I left the supermarket, I passed a young girl, perhaps twelve.  She was selling turon, a banana fried in a flaky crust.  I love turon but didn’t feel like buying any, so I said no, thank you, and moved on.  “Would you like to try one?” she persisted.  I again said no and walked on.

As I was about to exit the parking lot, I smiled and thought to myself:  “Now that was not Spirit at work.”  When she was young, Lina made and sold snacks to fund her education. A few American children still sell lemonade by the sidewalk, but many more children in the Philippines rely on their small earnings to get by.  I knew this and yet ….

I turned around and looked for the girl but didn’t see her.  Nevertheless, I walked back, and in a hundred yards I saw her ahead of me.  I went up to her and asked how much for one turon.  “Sixteen – one six – pesos,” she replied.  (That’s about 30 cents.)  I bought six, thanked her and walked home, smiling again.

Perhaps Spirit was reminding me that She is always present in little things.  Love takes many forms.  So does fear.  When I can live from love and not from fear, there is Spirit.

[I wrote this today for the Quaker newsletter, What Canst Thou Say? The prompt for the upcoming issue is: “How is Spirit moving in your life today?”]