THE ROAD OF GREATER SACRIFICE

Angela Crichton

While living in an isolated village on an island in the north of the

Philippines, we washed both ourselves and our clothes down at the river.

Being the only ‘non-Asian’ the highlight of each day for the children was to watch the ‘white lady’ wash in her sarong at the river. My faithful companion, nine-year-old Nelson, never left my side. (His is another story - one with a happy ending!)

Unfortunately I had a relapse of Typhoid Fever and it became more and more difficult to trudge to the river for my daily ablutions. The day came when I realized that I needed medical attention and that it was time to leave the island. Leaving the island proved to be an adventure in itself!

After negotiating with a local boat owner, it was decided I was to be down on the shore early the following morning. Weak and unable to walk due to dehydration, I was carried by two men down the track to where the small boat was waiting. A storm was on the horizon so I was told to go back and wait for the right conditions. Finally a few days later and now much weaker, the whole procedure had to be repeated.

On these outriggers, no seats are available. One is expected to ‘perch’ on the outer rim. The boat was full of people going to town. They were sitting on a huge pile of logs neatly stacked into the middle of the boat. After a few hours, everyone opened their small aluminium pots and started eating their rice and meat (Karabao, water buffalo). They kindly offered to share, but this time I could not accept their kind offer as was not able to keep anything in my stomach, water included. Just as well, as there were no toilet facilities!

I will always be thankful to the Lord for having Rose, a Filipina woman for a friend. I truly believe her care and compassion helped saved my life in what was to transpire. The boat’s anchor was dropped into the sea and the owner announced we would have to wait a number of hours before continuing – until midnight! The reason? The logs he was carrying 10

were milled illegally; therefore he was needing the darkness of night for cover. Rose realized how this would affect us so pleaded, begged with the boat owner to reconsider. He was not budging. However after taking a glance in my direction he did stop another boat and got us on board.

Unknown to me at the time, one of the symptoms of Typhoid Fever is depression. I spent hour after hour looking into the depths of the sea until the urge to ‘let go and it will be all over’ almost became a reality. Rose sensed this, grabbed my arm and held on tight until we safely reached land.

We stayed at Rose’s relatives one night before continuing onto the larger town and hospital the following day. I clearly remember sharing the bed with dear ‘Grandma’ who snored continually and used the potty at least twenty times!

The next morning on the country bus, we had to compete with people off to market together with their goats, pigs, chooks and vegetables. Finally we made it to the hospital only to find ourselves at the back of a queue right down the street. After a two hour wait, I was attended to and Typhoid was confirmed. I was to be admitted to hospital. There were not enough beds and patients were placed in the corridors. I pleaded with Rose to take me with her to the local YWAM base while taking the course of antibiotics. It was during this time the region suffered a strong typhoon. Fences, trees and roofs of houses were all caught up like toys. The house we were staying in was flooded. Foremost in my mind was the team I had left on the island and those I was responsible for. A decision had to be made; some were urging me to return to the safety of New Zealand warning me another relapse could prove fatal, something I was well aware of. It was a tempting offer.

One morning as I awoke the following words kept repeating themselves in my mind, clearly an answer to prayer for God’s guidance regarding the future;

‘When you come to a cross-road in life, choose the road of greater sacrifice out of love for me.’

What would be the road of greater sacrifice at that moment? Without a doubt, it would be returning to the island and fulfilling our object of serving the people there. It was a matter of depending upon God as never before…if He didn’t come through I simply wouldn’t make it.

I did return to the village to continue the work with the team. No further relapses occurred and together as a team, we saw God impact many lives in the community. He is true to His word!

“Therefore, I urge you brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices holy and pleasing to God – which is your spiritual worship.” -- Romans 12:1