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When you go to Manila, Philippines, you can look forward to experiencing the hospitality of the people, the enormous range of shopping malls, the tropical climate, Asian culture and international cuisine. You may even enjoy the novelty of having the celebration of Christmas season beginning in September, unless you live here for more than one year. The first time it is amusing, the second time you feel as if you are in Narnia, only in reverse. In Narnia it was always winter, but never Christmas. In Manila it is never winter, but always Christmas.
But one place that you would not even consider visiting, preferring that it remain out of sight and out of mind, is the city dump.
That place, however, touched my heart in a way that compels me to write about it. I had the privilege of meeting Jane Walker, a British single mother, a month ago. She had just moved to Manila with her son, who goes to school with our girls. We share an interest in journalism, a love for New York City, where we both have lived, and compelling dreams from God that seem impossible and unbelievingly challenging at times.
Dreams that grip us to the core for a simple reason: a love for lost and hurting people and a desire for them to know God. Mine is primarily for the people in the Russian-speaking world. Hers is for the families who live on the dumpsites in the Philippines.
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