<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665</id><updated>2012-01-02T00:27:41.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>People From The Bridge</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116968883888257371</id><published>2007-01-26T17:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T09:25:17.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man on the Bridge: Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Robert"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Robert%27s%20bridge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My travels through Manila often take me over a bride that crosses the Marikina River. It was on this route, (which has become one of my favorite shortcuts) that I noticed a man sitting on the bridge's railing. I didn't think much of it and continued on my way. On another day shortly after that I noticed him there again and I began to look for him whenever I crossed over that brigde. He was always there, just sitting in the same place. No matter what time of day, morning or night, he was always there. When I looked a little closer I noticed that he has a normal man's torso, but that his legs were very small and out of proportion with the rest of his body. Then I realized that he was always there because he lives there, in a crack between the bridge and the wall next to it. &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/100_4221.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/100_4221.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Later, I learned that there were sixteen families living in these cracks on both sides of the bridge and some were living under parts of it. There were whole families living there and some of them were made up of three generations (or more); Grandparents, parents, and grand children. Well, my just passing by went on for a month or two, as I looked for the man on the bridge. I would wonder, "How does he get around? I really don't think he can . . . so where does he get his food from? Maybe he fishes from the river." Then I thought, "Since he probably can't move around much, he &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/100_4224.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/100_4224.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;probably can't go to church. I wonder if he knows the Lord?" As I continually passed him by, I told myself that I need to stop by and talk with this guy. I was acting like the men who passed by the injured man laying in the road in the story of "The good Samaritan." My conscious was getting heavy as I continued to pass by this guy in my comfortable airconditioned car; sometimes eating a snack and listening to my stereo. Finally, at Christmas time, I stopped my van in front of him on the bridge, rolled down my window and introduced myself to him. His eyes brightened and he had a big smile on his face as he enthusiastically said, "Hello Sir." I said, "Hi, I'm Sean, what's your name?" He told me that his name is Robert. &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Robert.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;At this point I it is necessary for me to explain a piece of Filipino culture. Here in the Philippines, there is a Christmas tradition which reminds me of Halloween. People go door to door, (sometimes singing Christmas carols) hoping to recieve some money; usually coins. I figured that Robert was not able to get around so I decided to bless him this Christmas with some money and a bible. That was our first meeting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116968883888257371?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116968883888257371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116968883888257371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116968883888257371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116968883888257371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/man-on-bridge-part-1.html' title='The Man on the Bridge: Part 1'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-114206720348153696</id><published>2007-01-25T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T17:36:04.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man on the Bridge: Part 2</title><content type='html'>A month had gone by since I visited Robert. I had driven across the bridge and past him several times, but I had not made the time to visit him again. I decided to stop by and visit with him on the way to a weekly meeting that I have in Manila. I parked my car at the bottom of the bridge and began walking toward him. I wondered if he would remember me. I also wondered how he managed to live in that crack between the bridge and the wall. As I got closer, I saw a 3x10 foot piece of corrugated sheet metal that served as a roof. The crack was filled with trash from the foot of the bridge all the way to the place where his roof began. The doorway to his home was about 8 feet down in this crack. He had no door, no windows, no lights (except by candle) and no electricity. Robert greeted me again with a large smile. He remembered my name, and as I walked up he said in a mixture of broken English and Tagalog, "Your the guy from Christmas who gave me the bible." I asked him if he was reading it and he said yes. I quickly learned that he spoke very little English, while he in turn learned that my Tagalog (although better than his English) is limited. I sat down with him on the railing of the bridge and we slowly talked. We struggled to understand each other, but between my limited Tagalog vocabulary, his limited English, and a few hand guestures, we seemed to mangage. I learned that he has been living by the bridge for three years with his older brother who takes care of him. Robert turns 34 in March and has five siblings. When he was just a year old, he had a very high fever (maybe a result of polio?)which somehow lead to the paralysis of his legs. As Robert and I continued to talk, he began to cough and asked me to wait for a minute. He climbed down from the railing and crawled on his hands while dragging his legs and the rest of his body along. He disappeared as he climbed down into his make-shift home. A few minutes later, he reappeared and climbed back up next to where I was sitting on the bridge. He showed me his inhaler and explained that he has asthma while he continued coughing. I told him that one of my sons also has asthma. I thought to myself, "It's not surprising that he has asthma since he literally lives just a few feet away from a road where thousands of cars drive everyday." I asked him if I could look at his inhaler to see what kind of medicine he was using. While examining it, I quickly noticed that it was empty. At this time, his older brother Angelito (Lito) rode up on a bike with a pill to help ease Robert's breathing. I asked him why he didn't just get another inhaler. He said, "Kasi, mashadong mahal ito (Because it's too expensive)." I took the empty canister and told him that I would buy him a new one and bring it back after my meeting in Manila. After my meeting that evening, I returned to meet Robert and Lito. Lito met me by my car at the foot of the bridge to help me carry a few bags of stuff that I picked up for them. Once we reached their home, I noticed that the darkness down in the crack seemed to have multiplied without the light of day. The passing headlights of the cars revealed the smile on Robert and Lito's faces. Along with the medicine, I picked up 10 kilos of rice and about a dozen various kinds of canned foods. I didn't know whether or not they had a can opener, so I bought them one. While talking with them, I became a little worried about the food I had bought them, because I realized that they only had about 6 teeth between the two of them. I knew that they would have no problem eating the rice, but I wasn't sure if they could eat the canned fish I bought them with so few teeth in their mouths. I later found out that they managed. This was my second visit with Robert and his brother Lito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-114206720348153696?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/114206720348153696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=114206720348153696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114206720348153696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114206720348153696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/man-on-bridge-part-2.html' title='The Man on the Bridge: Part 2'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-114207739258046796</id><published>2007-01-24T03:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T17:49:17.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friends on the Bridge</title><content type='html'>Time was short so I wasn't planning on stopping by, but how could I just pass by without saying hi and seeing how Robert and Lito were doing? I was on my way to a ministry meeting that took me across their bridge again - but stopping by would make me late. Then I remembered that the last two times I met with my ministry partners, I was waiting for twenty to thirty minutes before they arrived. I figured that they wouldn't be angry if I was a few minutes late. I have learned that it is often difficult to be on time in the Philippines. The traffic is very unpredictable and the same route to work or school each day can unexplainably take twice as long sometimes. I pulled up to the foot of the bridge in my car and walked up to see Robert and Lito. I believe that Lito was out looking for work, but Robert greeted me with his usual smile as he explained to me that the medicine I got for him was helping and that he is breathing a lot better. While chatting, we got on the subject of food, probably because of my limited Tagalog there are only so many things I can talk about. You know, things like "How are you", "What's your name", "Where is the bath room (called the comfort room or CR in the Philippines)." I guess I can say a bit more than that, but we got on the subject of food. After asking me what my favorite Filipino dishes are he told me his:sinigang, a soup with pork and vegetables that is eaten with or on rice. I told him that I like sinigang too and that my wife cooks it rather well. Then I said, "Someday, you'll have to come to my place and we can eat it together." To which Robert quickly responded, "When?" "Oh", I said. "Lets see. . ." (I meant it when I invited him, but I didn't have a particular time in mind, I just thought someday). I went through my schedule in my mind and then said, "How about this Sunday? You brother Lito can join us." I told him that he and Lito can even join us at church. Robert said yes, but then he looked down at his legs, pointed, and said, "I'm shy." He was fine with going to my house, but he was embarrassed to go to such a public place as our church. As I thought about it I realized that it would be difficult for him to make it up to the third floor movie theater where our church is meeting since he can not walk. I told him that we can just have lunch at my house then. Soon I will look for a church that is nearer to him and that is more accessible for him. My mission, the Evangelical Free Church Mission, has a church fairly near to him. I hope that I can find a kind member of that church who would be willing to pick him and his brother up and bring them to church on Sundays. I said goodbye to Robert and told him I would see him next Sunday. This was our third meeting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-114207739258046796?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/114207739258046796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=114207739258046796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114207739258046796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114207739258046796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-friends-on-bridge.html' title='My Friends on the Bridge'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-114208061141161542</id><published>2007-01-23T04:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T17:52:20.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friends Visit our House</title><content type='html'>Sunday came and the smell of sinigang filled our house. We were ready for Robert and Lito's visit. When I arrived at the bridge where they live to pick them up, Robert was dressed and ready to go. He called down for Lito to join us, who felt awkward and declined at first. I urged him, "Please come join us, we would love to have you over." He accepted and we all climbed into my van (actually, Robert literally did just that, he had to climb in because his legs don't work). Once I started the van, Robert was startled as the air conditioner kicked in.  Concerned for him I said, "I can turn that off," to which he replied, "No" because he liked it. I'm sure that he rarely rides in any kind of auto mobile or feels refrigerated air on his face. As we were driving, Lito was thanking me for getting the medicine for his brother and he told me that he believed God was using me to help them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we drove into my subdivision (housing track) I could see the amazement in their faces. Even the smallest house in my neighborhood is huge compared to the little shelters they had made for themselves. After we pulled up into my garage Lito helped me close the gate while Robert climbed down out of the van and dragged himself into my house. I wonder what they were thinking as they came into my house for the first time. My place is like a mansion compared to their improvised little shelters. I pulled up some chairs for them so we could all talk. I was anxious to have my wife Jessica ask them some questions that I wasn't able to because of my lack of Tagalog speaking abilities. She was born in the Philippines and knows a lot more Tagalog than I do. I was wondering why Robert can't use crutches. I tried to ask him that and he said he couldn't, but I did not understand him when he explained why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the conversation continued with Robert and Lito, we learned that Robert can play the guitar. I didn't know what to expect, but I brought mine out and let him play. I was pleasantly surprised at how well he could play the guitar and sing. After eating Robert's favorite dish together for lunch I put on a DVD for us to watch. Robert, Lito, and I watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Passion of Christ&lt;/span&gt; together. It was very quite after that movie, which I think is a normal response to it. While driving them home I asked them, "What did you guys think of the movie?" Robert said, "Jesus sure suffered a lot for us!" I agreed with him and then I asked them if they knew why. The did not, so I explained, "Kasi maraming Kasalanan tayo (because we have many sins)." They both agreed with the fact that we all have a lot of sins. I told them that I would get them bigger bibles than the small Tagalog New Testament that I had already given them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice time together, getting to know each other better. This was the day that I began to share with them why God had brought me to the Philippines and why He was using me to help them. This was our fourth meeting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-114208061141161542?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/114208061141161542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=114208061141161542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208061141161542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208061141161542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-friends-visit-our-house.html' title='My Friends Visit our House'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-114208171063548625</id><published>2007-01-22T04:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:04:49.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Day in my Adventures with Robert</title><content type='html'>Even though thirty minutes had passed after visiting my friends on the bridge, my throat was still sore.  The effects of the fumes from the exhaust pipes of the passing cars had taken its toll on me.  It's no surprise to me that Robert has asthma.  I'm only there for about four hours a week; Robert lives there, spending all of his sleeping and waking hours next to that road.  I just bought him a few more boxes of medicine for his asthma, but this reality should serve to remind me that I must get a local church involved with ministering to him because I will only live in this area for about one more year. During a previous visit with Robert I learned that he likes to play the game chess.  I picked up a small set and we have played during our last two times together and he has beaten me six out of six games.  I would never have guessed that a guy who has only finished about three grades of elementary school could be so good at chess.  It’s not that I'm a horrible player; Robert is good!  He is a smart man.  I also picked up a couple of plastic stools so I can sit and chat with him.&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that Robert's place has no running water or electricity, I asked him where he went to the bathroom.  Laughing, he pointed to where I was sitting and various places around me for number one, and he said that they do number two on pieces of paper and then throw it into the river.  That explained the smell, but I learned years ago that the Philippines is a land of many smells.&lt;br /&gt;This was yet another educational and enjoyable time with my friend Robert.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-114208171063548625?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/114208171063548625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=114208171063548625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208171063548625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208171063548625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/another-day-in-my-adventures-with.html' title='Another Day in my Adventures with Robert'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-114208198889190871</id><published>2007-01-21T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:06:13.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Friends on the Bridge</title><content type='html'>Whenever I visit Robert, I bring a customary snack (called merienda). Merienda can be pretty much any food and Filipinos enjoy having it several times a day in between meals. A few visits ago I brought a canister of some long, tubular, flaky cookies called "Stickos." As we were playing chess and eating our stickos, little faces appeared through the railing across the street. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Little%20faces%20between%20rails.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These little faces had little eyes that were looking longingly at our stickos. I walked across the street and found three little kids, each no more than five years old. I gave each one of them a sticko and said hello. After exchanging names and smiles I walked back to Robert and the chess game we had started earlier. As our playing continued, our attention was drawn back to the other side of the bridge when we heard small voices yelling, "Kuya, kuya". This is a term of respect for an older brother or friend. I saw the three kids that I gave the merienda to earlier plus about four others. I returned to the their side of the bridge and gave them more stickos. By the end of the day, there were about a dozen little faces staring at us from between the rails of the bridge and calling, "Kuya, kuya." A few parents came out to see what the commotion was all about. One mother named Charlie came out, smiled and waved. She heard that I had given out a few bibles and asked if she could have one. I told her that I would love to give her one and would bring it next time I visit. With about 15 or 16 families living around and under this bridge, I see the potential for a bible study and some great ministry among them. I can't wait to see what the Lord will do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-114208198889190871?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/114208198889190871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=114208198889190871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208198889190871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208198889190871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-little-friends-on-bridge.html' title='My Little Friends on the Bridge'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-114208210996573765</id><published>2007-01-20T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:33:56.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Other Side of the Bridge</title><content type='html'>While chatting with Robert and Ate Dora, she asked, "Would you like to visit my house?" This is very Filipino. Hospitality is a part of Filipino culture and even if their place is small or they have very little food, they will still invite you into their home and share what they have with you. She lives on the other side of the bridge, just under it near the river. As I walked to Ate Dora's place with a small group of children following me, I saw people hand washing their clothes. They have a community pump that they share to get their water for washing. Those who can afford it buy different water locally for drinking. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Pumping%20water%20under%20bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There were clothes hanging on lines and in the windows of their houses. Ate Dora joking calls the houses under the bridge "condo's" because they are nicer than the ones like Roberts, and are fixed between the bridge and the road. Their homes were improvised with pieces of wood, metal, and tarps. They were built on stilts so that they don't get flooded when the river rises. Ate Dora told me that they have to move to higher ground sometimes during the typhoon season. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Houses%20under%20the%20bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was told that there were about 15 or 16 families living under and around the bridge, but I don't know how many people are living there all together. There are dozens of bridges like this that cross the Marakina River and I can't help but wonder if those bridges have communities living under them too. When I first meet the children who live here they were respectfully calling me "Kuya." It was cute as I was visiting with Robert the other day and they were calling out, "Kuya Sean."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Children%20under%20the%20bridge%20no%20nudity.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking through the structures leading to Ate Dora's house I hope the the brown water that was running across the path was not human waste. I didn't want to give the appearance of uneasiness, this was their home, so I walked straight ahead watching my steps till we reached her house. I said a quick prayer in my head as I drank the water she offered me, a kindness of which I was not about to refuse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-114208210996573765?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/114208210996573765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=114208210996573765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208210996573765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/114208210996573765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/other-side-of-bridge.html' title='The Other Side of the Bridge'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116969127262483479</id><published>2007-01-19T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:34:57.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Wheel Chair for Robert</title><content type='html'>Jessica and I were having some coffee with our friend Jeffrey the other day. We got on the topic of ministry to widows, orphans, and the poor. During our discussion, we noted how many church plants or young churches talk about how they are going to reach out to the poor SOMEDAY once their church gets established. Yet, somehow, even after churches get established, many still never get around to ministering to widows, orphans, and the poor. When Jeffery told me that this is an area he would like to see his church grow in, I told him about my friends at the bridge. I showed him a picture of Robert and explained how he is virtually trapped at that bridge because of his paralysis. Jeffery asked if he could use a wheel chair. I told him, "probably" and that I was looking into getting Robert a special three wheel bike made for handicapped people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early the next morning Jeffrey called me and said, "I have a wheel chair, where can we meet so that I can give it to you?" Jess and I were excited and praised the Lord for this blessing. As we were on our way to pick it up, I pictured a dusty old wheel chair that someone had hidden away in their garage. That was not a disappointing thought and we were grateful for the Lord’s provision, but when we met Jeffery, he carried a box to our van. The wheel chair was brand new! We couldn’t wait to bring it to Robert on Monday when we would visit him next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Monday afternoon we pulled up to Robert’s bridge (We also brought Kian, Christian, and Grace with us). &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Sean%20calling%20down%20to%20Robert%201.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 306px; height: 204px;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Sean%20calling%20down%20to%20Robert%201.1.jpg" border="0" height="192" width="303" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went a head of them to call down to Robert so that he would have a few minutes to get ready for visitors. After sharing greetings with each other I told him, “May regalo ako para sa iyo” (I have a gift for you). He got ready while I went back to our van to get my family and the box. Kian helped me carry the box as Christian followed. I was a little worried that Robert might be disappointed because he had mentioned in the past that he wanted a special three wheel bike made for handicapped people. I hoped that he would be pleased with this wheel chair because I really believe that it can change his life. He will no longer be trapped at the bridge all day. He can move around, go to cooler places when it is too hot or even look for some kind of work. When we reached him with the fairly large and heavy box, he read the side. "O, a wheel chair", he exclaimed. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Carring%20Wheel%20Chair%20in%20Box.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 297px; height: 200px;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Carring%20Wheel%20Chair%20in%20Box.jpg" border="0" height="208" width="318" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I couldn’t tell if he was excited or disappointed, but he didn’t waste much time climbing over the rail to sit in it and try it out. In Tagalog, he started talking about the three wheel bike again, but we encouraged him to try it out. I suggested that we all take a walk down the street to the gas station convenience store to get a cool drink. It was a very hot and humid day and there is no shade near Robert’s place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could tell that Robert was a little uneasy, but he went with us. He asked me to push him down the bridge because it was a little steep, but once we got to the bottom he took over. He was a little shaky at first while getting used to controlling the chair. The side walk before the bridge has so many holes and cracks in it that we were forced to move to the street. I was praying inside, “Lord protect him and don’t let him get discouraged.” We finally made it to the gas station and walked into the store while Robert rolled into it. It was only about a block from his home, but this was probably the first time he had ever been inside of it, or any other store. We bought a few drinks and sat out in the shade to enjoy them. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Robert%20smiling%20in%20wheel%20chair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Robert%20smiling%20in%20wheel%20chair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then Robert shared that one time someone tried to give him a chair, but he was too embarrassed to use it, so he refused to take it, which made his brother Lito very unhappy. As Jessica and I wondered why he took the wheel chair this time, we speculated that it was because he knew us and that we were there to encourage and help him get started. As we practiced using the chair in the parking lot of the gas station he was quickly getting the hang of it. People from the community who often saw Robert sitting on the rail of the bridge were looking at us and smiling at us. I pray that Robert will get comfortable using the chair and that this will open up many new doors in his life. Next time I visit him, I will take him for a stroll to a near by fast food place to share some ice cream and to play a game of chess in a clean air conditioned place. Robert knows that I am a missionary and that it is the love of Christ that compels me to love him and the rest of the people at the bridge. However, the most loving thing that I can do for him is not to get him a wheel chair, rice, or medicine. The most loving thing that I can do for Robert and the families who live at the bridge is to share the good news that Jesus Christ loves them and wants to forgive their sins if they will trust in Him. Regardless of their response to Jesus I will continue to serve them, but I will never stop sharing the good news about Jesus with them. I can’t wait to see what the Lord does in their heart’s trough us. &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/04/roberts-birthday.html"&gt;Click here to read more.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116969127262483479?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116969127262483479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116969127262483479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969127262483479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969127262483479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/wheel-chair-for-robert.html' title='A Wheel Chair for Robert'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116969255956673944</id><published>2007-01-18T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:35:59.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures for Ate Dora</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Dora"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Dora%27%20surprised.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While visiting ate Dora and our other friends from the bridge we have been taking pictures. When we gave her copies of some of the pictures that we took of her and her family, we learned that this was more of a blessing than we thought it would be. We could see the joy in her face as she looked the pictures over. She then shared with us that she has no pictures of herself or her family. Around fifteen grandchildren and no pictures of them! This would be unthinkable for most grandmothers in the States. When I thought about it, I realized that in the small room of her shanty, there is nothing on the walls. Actually the walls are less than a quarter of an inch thick so you really couldn't nail anything to them (otherwise you would have a bunch of nails sticking out of your walls). I suppose she could stick them up there some how. She kept smiling while she and her granddaugher "Girly", and a few other grandkids were admirering the pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Dora%20and%20Girly%20looking%20at%20pics.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Dora%20and%20Girly%20looking%20at%20pics.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Since it was a hot day and there was no where for us to sit at the bridge (I had brought Jessica, Kian, and Christian with me) we walked down the street and sat at a few tables out side the gas station's convienence store. Ate Dora told us that one time she needed a picture for an I.D. and since she did not have one she had to use her sister's picture. She said that they look similar, but the picture on HER ID is not of her. Hopefully no one will look to closely and cause an embarassing momment for Ate Dora. We gave a picture to Robert also. One of him and I playing chess along side the bridge. He said that somehow he is going to nail it to the block wall in his house. I know that these are little things, but they do communicate that we care about them. My family and I drove over the bridge last night at around 9pm. It was dark and everyone around and under the bridge were no doubt sleeping by then, but I could not help to pray and think about them as we passed by. Please remember them in your prayers as we minister to them and try to get the local church involved in helping us reach out to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116969255956673944?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116969255956673944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116969255956673944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969255956673944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969255956673944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/pictures-for-ate-dora.html' title='Pictures for Ate Dora'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116969268435574079</id><published>2007-01-17T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:38:04.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Robert's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Robert"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Robert%27s%20B-day%20Cake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;On March 31 my friend Robert turned 34.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I stopped by his place at the bridge bringing a chocolate cake, a bag of oranges and some fruit roll-ups for the kids who also live there. I was greeted with a wave and Roberts usual smile. I think I succeeded in my goal of making him feel cared for and special. He asked, "What's this?" as I put a box in from of him. He was happy at the sight of a chocolate cake with, "Happy Birthday Robert" written on it. Between Robert and his brother, who lives in the shanty across from him, they have one plate and three spoons. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Happy%20B-Day%20Robert%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Happy%20B-Day%20Robert%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used one of the spoons to cut the cake and I brought a box of napkins to serve the rest of the cake on. We called on neighbors and friends who were passing by to join us in celebrating Roberts special day. A couple of little ones caught on to what was happening and soon there about over a dozen kids stopping by or calling out to us in hopes of sharing Roberts birthday cake and other goodies. Ate Sylvia, Melvin, Charlene, and many other friends stopped by. This time opened up a great conversation that I will share about in my next blog so check back later. &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/04/interesting-conversation-part-1.html"&gt;Click here to read more.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116969268435574079?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116969268435574079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116969268435574079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969268435574079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969268435574079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/roberts-birthday.html' title='Robert&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116969279294521482</id><published>2007-01-16T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:39:52.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Interesting Conversation - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Happy%20B-Day%20Robert%202.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Happy%20B-Day%20Robert%202.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;While visiting Robert on his birthday I had an interesting conversation.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It started when Ate Sylvia asked, "What religion are you?"&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I told her that I am born again because that seems to be the best identifier for Christians to use here.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This helps to keep Christian from being confused with false or non-Christian groups. However, saying that your 'born again' can get you confused with faith healers, which is what Sylvia did, because&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; s&lt;/span&gt;he then asked me, "Can you heal Robert?"&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I looked across at Robert as he sat near the railing of the bridge with his legs hanging limp.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; Now, &lt;/span&gt;I don’t believe that we can demand healing from God, or that the gift of healing at will is normal for today.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;However, I do know that God can heal anytime that He wants and does heal today when He wants to.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Robert.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Robert.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was ready to pray for Robert’s healing and I confidently believe that if God wanted to, He would heal him.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;For some reason, I wasn’t even nervous at the thought. If it was not God’s will to heal Robert now, I would not be embarrassed to pray for it and find that the answer is no.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It would be God who said no, not me.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It would be God who chose not to demonstrate His power and not a failure on my part.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I know that I am just the messenger and that He is in control and knows what He is doing.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;At the same time, I would not have been surprised if God decided to do a miracle and restore Roberts’s legs!&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I could see God using that circumstance to show the people of the bridge His power and His love for them.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I could see God using that to draw attention to Himself so that they would pay attention to the gospel and believe.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, before I could agree to pray for Robert, Ate Sylvia just keep talking away about different beliefs.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She seemed to forget her request and said that Robert told her that he had many questions for me, but was unable to ask them because of my limited ability to speak Tagalog.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I believe my heart was right and that my faith wasn’t lacking, but we didn’t get the opportunity to see if God was going to grant a miracle that day.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Perhaps He kept her talking because He has another plan other than healing to make Himself known to the people at the bridge.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was able to understand and discuss a few of their questions, but I told them that soon I would bring with me a friend who was fluent in Tagalog and who would answer all their questions.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They were happy with that and proceeded into a second interesting conversation, which I will write about next time.  &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/05/interesting-conversation-part-2.html"&gt;Click here to read Part 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116969279294521482?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116969279294521482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116969279294521482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969279294521482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969279294521482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/interesting-conversation-part-1.html' title='An Interesting Conversation - Part 1'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116969292113464961</id><published>2007-01-15T18:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:42:01.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Robert's Second Birthday in Less Than a Month</title><content type='html'>I realized it was late when I saw my shadow glide across the wall in front of me because of the head lights from the cars passing behind me. I intended to leave an hour earlier, but Robert said, "Okay, one more question." I had brought my friend Wolfgang with me, a fellow missionary who has lived here for over ten years. Wolfgang loves the Lord and has a real heart for the poor. I had shared the gospel with Robert and Ate Sylvia before, but I wasn't sure how much they understood due to my limited Tagalog. Wolfgang would be able to answer their questions and make sure that they understand the (gospel) the good news that Jesus Christ forgives the sins of those who trust in Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could tell that their hearts were softened and ready for the gospel, but Robert and Sylvia first had many questions. First, Robert wanted to know where Cain and Able got their wives from. Second, he wanted to know how Jonah could have survived in the belly of the great fish. These were great questions. It was encouraging to me that not only has Robert really been reading the Tagalog Bible I had given him, but that he actually understood what he was reading and was wrestling through it. Sylvia's questions included wanting to know what the bible said about worshiping Mary, saints, and various statues, and what is meant by being "born again". After satisfying their questions, Wolfgang shared the gospel with them again. We started with Jesus' conversation with Nicodemus in John Chapter 3. I was pleased to hear that they did understand what I had shared with them in previous conversations and that they were really tracking with what Wolfgang was sharing with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wolfgang invited them to ask Jesus to save them from the penalty of their sins and to live in their hearts. He told them to only pray if they really, really want to follow Jesus. Praise, the Lord, they both wanted to! At first, I wasnt sure about Robert. As Wolfgang prayed, Ate Sylvia repeated after him, but Robert remained silent. As we were saying our goodbyes Robert said that he prayed in his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The challenge now is finding a church within walking distance because the round trip cost of about 50¢ is a substantial expense for them. I'm praying that they will see that the sacrifice is worth it. I'm also hoping that the church itself would be able to send some of their members to my friends at the bridge to do bible studies. For now, we picked up Robert last Sunday and took him to the closest EFC church with us, about 15 minutes way. I was proud of him because his joy in knowing God was greater than his fear of what others might think about him and his wheel chair. Pray that Robert’s faith in God will grow and that a local church will show him and my other friends at the bridge love by regularly visiting them and teaching them the word of God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116969292113464961?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116969292113464961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116969292113464961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969292113464961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969292113464961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/roberts-second-birthday-in-less-than.html' title='Robert&apos;s Second Birthday in Less Than a Month'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116969302939530807</id><published>2007-01-14T18:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T18:43:49.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Interesting Conversation - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Mary%20Idol.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Mary%20Idol.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In a story called, &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/04/interesting-conversation-part-1.html"&gt;"An Interesting Conversation - Part 1"&lt;/a&gt; , I mentioned that I would write more about a conversation with Robert and Ate Sylvia. After asking me if I could heal Robert, Ate Sylvia didnt wait for an answer but kept throwing more questions out. One thing she really wanted to know was what the bible says about praying to statues. This is widely practiced in the Philippines. They pray to statues of Mary, Santo Nino (Baby Jesus), the Black Nazarene, etc. As usual, we were sitting on the walkway of the bridge. I looked around and saw a piece of wood on the ground which gave me an idea. I picked it up and, as best I could in Tagalog, I began to answer her question. I held the piece of wood on the rail and told them that I could paint it, put a face on it, eyes, ears, and mouth. Then I told them I could make feet for it also and then I set the piece of wood down on its end as if standing and let it go. It just fell over on the ground. I did this two more times and it fell to the ground each time. I asked what happened? They saw that the wood had no power to stand up on it's own. I told them that in addition to not being able to stand, it could not speak, hear, or see. Then I picked it up again. Looking at it, I loudly called out to it something like, "Help me, bless me, feed me, take care of me!" They began laughing. I asked, "Why are you laughing?" They replied, "It's just a piece of wood."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's right", I told them, "And every time we pray to an idol we are just talking to a piece of wood which can do nothing for us." I wasn't sure if they understood all that I shared with them, but I later learned that they did when I heard them share part of the story with another missionary that I brought there to visit them. &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/04/roberts-second-birthday-in-less-than.html"&gt;(click here to read that story)&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Santo%20Ninyo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Santo%20Ninyo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that illustration with the piece of wood made a big impression on them and helped them to see the futility in praying to idols. I shared with them that we should pray and worship God only. After all, He is the one who made us, who came and died for our sins, who offers salvation through faith in His Son, and who wants to be intimately involved with our lives for eternity. Why go to anyone or any&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thing&lt;/span&gt; else!  &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/04/roberts-second-birthday-in-less-than.html"&gt;(Robert and Sylvia pray to receive Christ - click here to read )&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116969302939530807?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116969302939530807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116969302939530807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969302939530807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116969302939530807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/interesting-conversation-part-2.html' title='An Interesting Conversation - Part 2'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971001880001452</id><published>2007-01-13T23:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:28:26.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sean, I don't want to die and only you can help me!</title><content type='html'>It had been six weeks since I last saw any of my friends from the bridge. Though I was on a working vacation in the States, my thoughts and prayers were often focused on them. Did Robert have enough rice? Was his asthma medicine used up? How was he doing now that the rainy season had begun? These questions were answered on my way to pick up a visiting short-term mission team. Before I went to the airport, I stopped by the bridge to see Robert and my other friends. I noticed that they covered their make-shift homes with some extra wood. I assume they did that to keep some of the rain out of them. I called down to Robert and after a few minutes he climbed up to greet me. His brother Lito joined him shortly after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we exchanged our hellos and began catching up on the latest news in each others lives, they mentioned to me that Ate Dora was taken to the hospital earlier. Lito went on to explain that she was struggling with hyper tension and high blood pressure. After a little while, she came out from under the bridge, but for the first time I saw her walking with a stick to give her some extra support. She greeted me with her usual smile, but I could tell that she was weakened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Ate%20Dora%20at%20bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Ate%20Dora%20at%20bridge.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate Dora said to me, "Sean, where have you been? I have been waiting for you! I don't want to die and only you can help me! I have to take care of my grandchildren!" (she has over a dozen of them that she helps care for while her children do what ever jobs they can to help the family survive)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Ate%20Dora%20and%20her%20apo%202.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Ate%20Dora%20and%20her%20apo%202.5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't know exactly what is wrong, but she said that the doctor said that she needs a CT scan which will cost about $80 US dollars. I'm guessing that this would be at least one or two months wages for her and could be even more than that since her jobs are not consistent. Ate Dora then told me, "I promise, if you help me, I will bring my whole family to church." I told her that I only want her to go to church if she really wants to and that I will help her because she is my friend. Perhaps she will go to church through this because she sees God's grace upon her as he uses me, but I don't want to start the practice of building churches on obligation or guilt. I will be going to get her and take her to the doctor on Monday. Pray that God will show the doctors what is wrong inside her body and that they will be able to correct it. I will write about this as I learn more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971001880001452?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971001880001452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971001880001452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971001880001452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971001880001452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/sean-i-dont-want-to-die-and-only-you_13.html' title='Sean, I don&apos;t want to die and only you can help me!'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971037586012026</id><published>2007-01-12T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:32:55.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So little for us and yet so much for him</title><content type='html'>There was excitement in her voice as we discussed the possibility of her son's face being whole, but I could also hear the concern in her questions. Perhaps it was a dumb question on my part, but I asked her if she (Ate Vergie) was interested in having her son's face fixed. I've learned never to assume anything. I thought to myself, "It's possible that she could be against modern medicine or too afraid to have her son go under the knife". After I brought it up, Ate Vergie and Ate Sylvia asked me a few questions. Would he feel pain or would the doctor make him sleep during the procedure? Would the doctor just numb his lip? Would they use needles or would he just have to breath in the anesthesia? "It's too mahal (expensive)! How can we afford the medicine?" I told her, "akong bahala sa gastos" (I will take care of the expenses) if she is interested. I'm kind of taking this by faith because I don't know exactly how much it will cost, but I heard that there is one group that comes to Manila about once a year and does the surgery for about $300-$400. That's no small amount for a missionary salary, but it is still relatively small. How could Jessica and I not do that? Relatively so little for us and yet so much for him. I haven't done the math, but I wouldn't be surprised if I found out that we spend that much on coffee each year. This surgery could be life changing for Angelo. It would spare him from years of ridicule and hurt, adverse hygiene and medical issues, open up better possibilities for work and most of all, be a life long testimony to the love of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Angelo%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/400/Angelo%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Angelo was born four years ago with a cleft palate. His tita (aunt) told me how he never cried as a baby and still doesn't speak. Ate Vergie said that he makes some sounds and he clearly understands what is being said to him. She hopes that he will be able to talk after his mouth is fixed. Angelo's father seems to have had a nervous break down and is out of work and seems to have given up on life at the moment. Maybe God will use this surgery to give Angelo's dad some hope and remind Him that He loves him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping that this surgery will have several other effects as well.  First, Angelo has asthma.  He is one of &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-little-friends-on-bridge.html"&gt;many kids and adults living under the bridge&lt;/a&gt; who have asthma. I'm guessing that the fumes from the exhausts of the thousands of cars passing over their bridge each day has a lot to do with it. This is especially dangerous for Angelo because I don't think he can use a conventional inhaler for his asthma. He is not able to form a seal around an inhaler with his mouth due to the section of lip that is missing. I think this could potentially be life threatening for Angelo if an asthma attack makes it difficult for him to breathe. His family can't afford a trip to the hospital, but they do have access to an inhaler...An inhaler which I'm guessing would have little effect at this time because of his deformity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Angelo%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/400/Angelo%202.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Second, I hope that God helping him through us will not only be a testimony to Angelo and his family, but to that whole community under the bridge. Several of them have and are reading bibles that I was privileged to give them. I was just talking with some of them today and they can see how God has not forgotten them. They see how He has sent me and other people over the years to help them as He cares for them. I have found a few possibilities of some local churches that might be able to help me minister to them. Their hearts have become more and more prepared for this. I get excited as I think about the possibilities. Join me in praying that we can help correct Angelo's deformity and get a local church involved with loving and teaching these precious people. &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/08/when-he-saw-he-was-healed-he-came-back.html"&gt;Click here to read what happened next.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971037586012026?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971037586012026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971037586012026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971037586012026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971037586012026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/so-little-for-us-and-yet-so-much-for.html' title='So little for us and yet so much for him'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971051315470601</id><published>2007-01-11T23:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:35:13.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When he saw he was healed, he came back, praising God in a loud voice. (Luke 17:15)</title><content type='html'>He just turned 4 years old last&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Taking%20Angelo%20to%20hospital.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Taking%20Angelo%20to%20hospital.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;February, but he can’t speak much yet. He understands well, but his deformed palate has made speech difficult for him. I pray that someday Angelo will praise God with his fixed mouth and palate as he grows older and learns about God and what He has done for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt so privileged to be helping Angelo when I saw him walking hand in hand with his mom toward my car. Just a week earlier, I couldn’t help getting choked up when his mom translated my words into Tagalog to little Angelo. She asked him, “How would you like to get your mouth fixed?”. He smiled and gave his mom a high five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Angelo%20and%20Vergi%20at%20hospital.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Angelo%20and%20Vergi%20at%20hospital.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday morning, we were on our way to the hospital for a consultation with the doctor about fixing Angelo’s cleft palate. We found out that we came at the perfect time of the year. Angelo’s doctor told us that several doctors were doing a mission that week and that they were doing cleft palate surgeries the next Saturday for free. For FREE! God sure has good timing! The surgery and all the medicines would be free this particular week. There are only a few costs left and some kind friends from the States have already stepped up to cover them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To our surprise, the doctor had Angelo immediately check into the hospital for initial tests (blood, x-rays, urine, etc.). He told us that Angelo needs to stay in the hospital untill Wednesday and then I could bring him back on Friday to get prepped for surgery on Saturday. Angelo didn’t seem to mind, but Vergi, his mom, was surprised and a little worried. First, I learned that Angelo is one of eight children and she now began to worry, “How can I feed my kids if I miss work?” (She would have to stay with Angelo the whole time). Second, since she did not anticipate having to stay at the hospital, she didn’t bring anything with her (like a tooth brush, extra clothes, a towel, etc.) The hospital doesn’t even provide blankets or pillows. We went across the street and picked up some food, water, tooth brush and other such stuff for them. Vergi’s best friend Charlyne would bring clothes and other necessities the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ward that they were staying in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Angelo%20and%20his%20bro%20at%20hospital.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Angelo%20and%20his%20bro%20at%20hospital.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;has two large dorms with about 100 beds on both sides and all were occupied with patients and their families. Angelo was captivated by a little girl in the bed across from his. She had a cleft palate too, only she had two openings in her lip instead of just one. This may be the first time he has ever seen anyone in the same situation as his. They stared at each other fascinated. As it turns out, the cleft palate wasn't the worst problem this little girl had. When they did evaluations on her to get her mouth fixed, they discovered that she actually had a hole in her heart. So last month they did open heart surgery to fix her heart and this month they will fix her mouth. Add to those difficult circumstances the fact that she is not even a year old yet, she is only ten months old right now. As I was talking with her mom and playing with her I got a big smile out of her. Because of the open flaps of skin above her mouth, it was hard to see that she was smiling, but her eyes couldn’t hide it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I found out that the doctor was having trouble finding a vein in Angelo’s arm and was unable to finish all the bloodwork in time to release Angelo on Wednesday. He decided that Angelo should just stay there through Saturday for the operation. Again, Vergi expressed her concern about not being able to work. She and her husband sell eggs (the ever so popular Filipino "balut" to be exact – basically duck embryos) to support the family. I told her not to worry, that we would take care of her and her family during this time. After that I went home to wait for Saturday. &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/08/outside-is-fixed-inside-is-next.html"&gt;Click here to read the next part of the story.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971051315470601?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971051315470601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971051315470601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971051315470601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971051315470601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/when-he-saw-he-was-healed-he-came-back.html' title='When he saw he was healed, he came back, praising God in a loud voice. (Luke 17:15)'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971064422360685</id><published>2007-01-10T23:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T18:42:31.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Outside Is Fixed, The Inside Is Next</title><content type='html'>I have to admit it was a little hard for me to look at his face before the operation. I didn't want to stare or show any sign of shock at his appearance, but it did take some effort to smile and to be encouraging without having an expression of pitty on my face for this little guy. Remembering how precious he is to God; that his body will be restored to perfection if he goes to heaven, and that all of our lives in this world are temporary helped me to have compassion for him. Angelo and his family do not know the Lord now, but I pray that in the future, Angelo will be able to look back and see the deformity he used to have as a blessing from God because God used it to bring him and his family to the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The outside is fixed, the inside is next. Angelo's outward appearance looks better now, but his inside still looks the same to God. As I thought about this, I realized that Angelo is actually a good picture of many of us. We can fix ourselves up on the outside - dress up nicely, put on make-up, do our hair, be on our best behavior and look pretty good in the eyes of the world; especially when we compare ourselves to others around us. The reality however, is that inside we are still in bad shape. The facade may look great, but with God, we still fall short of being good enough for living with and enjoying Him forever. He takes every thought, attitude, word, and behavior into account. The sin within all of us separates us from God because He is holy and He can't allow deformed sinful souls in His prescense. Like Angelo, we need corrective surgery, but on the inside not the outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Angelo before the surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Angelo%201.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/400/Angelo%201.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here he is after the surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Angelo%20check%20up%20at%20PGH2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/400/Angelo%20check%20up%20at%20PGH2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so pleased with how his surgery came out. He is still healing, but he looks so much better. The doctor needs to take his stiches out still and there is a bit of swelling, but he's a handsome little guy! When I brought him back from the hospital it looked like the whole community living under the bridge came out to see him. In my best Tagalog I chatted with many of them as we all enjoyed seeing Angelo and his mom Virgi back home. At this point Angelo was more excited about the new ball we bought for him than his face being repaired, but that's just how little boys are, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971064422360685?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971064422360685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971064422360685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971064422360685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971064422360685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/outside-is-fixed-inside-is-next.html' title='The Outside Is Fixed, The Inside Is Next'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971076575889486</id><published>2007-01-09T23:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:39:25.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We aren't the only ones expecting a new baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Lito.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Lito.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve written several times about &lt;a href="http://seanransom.blogspot.com/2006/02/man-on-bridge-part-2.html"&gt; Robert and his brother Lito who live under a bridge.&lt;/a&gt; Well I recently learned that Lito (pictured above) has a girlfriend and that they are expecting a baby. In case you forgot, Lito lives under a 3X10 piece of corrugated sheet metal that is held up by a small wooden frame (probably about the size of a closet in your average American home).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Houses%20at%20the%20bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Houses%20at%20the%20bridge.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have no electricity, running water, or bathroom (called a CR in the Philippines) and they enjoy the constant flow of fumes from the exhaust pipes of the passing cars just above them. It was hard enough for Lito to take care of himself and his handicap younger brother (34), but now he has a girlfriend/wife and soon a baby to take care of. According to Robert, Lito is making less than 500 Pecos or $10 a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Robert%20and%20Lito.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Robert%20and%20Lito.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Lito and Robert told me about the baby I smiled and probably said something like, “WOW, how many months is she? How is she doing? Is she getting sick?” I just couldn’t get myself to say congratulations. I love kids. As a matter of fact, my wife Jessica and I are expecting our fifth child any day now. But in Lito's case, first, they are not legally married. Second, I suspect that the pregnancy was not planned. And third, not only do they have a challenging life just struggling to survive, but now a little one will have to join them in their struggle. At the same time, I have to remind myself that whenever a new baby comes into the world, there is no such thing as an accident. God is never caught by surprise. He is in control and His plan is proceeding perfectly and on schedule. I pray that this little one will someday worship and glorify God and that the Lord will somehow them and and me by allowing me to have some small part in that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given a lot of thought about being poor and rich during the last few years and I started asking myself this question, “What’s so wrong with being poor?” Of course nobody wants to be poor, but it’s not inherently evil. Many groups show us video clips, pictures, and brochures of sad looking poor children. They tug at our heart strings and cause us to thank God for all that we have. I am personally moved and involved with helping the poor, but not because I pity them. On the contrary, there is a lot to envy about them. They have a keen sense of the frailty of life and the control God has over it. This knowledge makes many of them very open to the good news that Jesus forgives sins and has a new home in Heaven for those who trust in Him alone. I also see the poor having fun together with family and friends without the use of expensive toys or things. With no more than a few sticks, marbles, or just a little imagination, the kids have hours of fun. What is even more amazing is that they can do it without a Playstation or computer. I also see strong family and community bonds among them as they watch out and care for each other as best they can. If you think about it, being rich has many pitfalls as well. The bible says that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven. I have seen many rich people who seem to be slaves to their businesses and possessions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that being said, this new little one of Lito’s that is coming into the world may have to deal with many obstacles, but will also has the opportunity to be a child or God. If he or she does become His, then all the hardships of this life will have been worth it and are not even worthy to be pitied or complained about in light of what God has waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I am trying to get Lito a job. God seems to be opening the door for Lito to drive a pedicab in our neighborhood. Our friend Mang Bert told us about an opening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Mong%20Bert%20in%20petty-cab%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Mong%20Bert%20in%20petty-cab%202.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lito would work six days a week and make about 300 Pecos a day ($6). This would be about $140 a month, which is more than triple what he makes now. He will have to rent the bike for about 45 Pecos a day (just under a dollar). If it works out, he can eventually buy his own bike for about 7,000 Pecos ($140). Jessica and I are helping to get Lito started by covering the costs of his paper work, bus fare, uniforms, and dues. Please pray that this job will work out because it will really bless Lito, His girlfriend, their new baby, and Robert. So far Lito has not appeared to be receptive to the gospel like Robert has been. Also pray that his heart would soften and that God would give him saving faith. We have begun a bible study under the bridge with a local church ministering to the 15 families that also live under that bridge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971076575889486?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971076575889486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971076575889486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971076575889486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971076575889486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/we-arent-only-ones-expecting-new-baby.html' title='We aren&apos;t the only ones expecting a new baby'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971093941481979</id><published>2007-01-08T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:42:19.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bible Study at the Bridge</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Bible%20Study%20at%20the%20Bridge%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Bible%20Study%20at%20the%20Bridge%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Praise the Lord, we started a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; bible study at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; the bridge. After months of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; searching I found a Filipino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; pastor in the area who&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; has devoted his life to serving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and the poor. During my search for him, a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; mutual friend gave his number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; His name is Sonny Malangis. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; called him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; agreed to meet at a restaurant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; near the bridge. It was then that we discovered that I met Pastor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Sonny before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; - actually&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; he met&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; me. He attended a preaching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; conference we held last July&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and he sat in on a seminar that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I taught. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Pastor%20Sunny%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Pastor%20Sunny%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I learned that Pastor Sonny (Standing in front of his church) has a church that is about a 25 minute walk away. He has committed to walking to the bridge every Sunday afternoon to teach my friends there the word of God in Tagalog. I knew right awayI would like Pastor Sonny. When I took him to the bridge, he immediately began to engage with the families living there. He began to laugh with them and to talk about life with them. I'm praying that all of my friends there will become followers of Jesus Christ and that we will either plant a church right there or that we will be able to bring them to pastor Sonny's church to worship on Sunday mornings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Sean%20on%20guitar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Sean%20on%20guitar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kuya Edwin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; (the man in the center of the picture) and his wife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Charlyn have stood out to be a core couple at the bridge. They&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; speak &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the most English of all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; those living under the bridge so between&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; their limited English and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; my limited Tagalog we are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; able to understand each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; pretty well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kuya Edwin built&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; several benches so that the people wouldn’t have to sit on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; the ground any longer during&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; the bible study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Edwin and Charlyn opened up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; their home so that the kids can meet in it for bible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; study while the adults meet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; separate for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;heir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; bible study. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Our friend Merriam (holding the books, Charlyn is standing to the far left)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Merriam%20at%20the%20bridge%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Merriam%20at%20the%20bridge%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;agreed to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; teach the kids which is an extra joy for me to see since the Lord&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; used Jessica and I in the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; process of drawing her to Himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Merriam%20teaching%20under%20the%20bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Merriam%20teaching%20under%20the%20bridge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The space under the bridge where Edwin and Charlyn live is tight, but it works well for little ones to hear the word of God, do some coloring, play games, and eat snacks. Merriam is teaching the kids bible stories starting with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The Creation and the fall of Adam and Eve into sin, to the story of Jesus Christ and the&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Kids%20praying%20under%20the%20bridge%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Kids%20praying%20under%20the%20bridge%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Salvation He offers to all those who trust in Him alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Every week these precious little ones would run out to the road to greet me and then run back down to the bottom of the bridge to let everyone know that I was there. Now I have the pleasure of seeing them learn about the Lord! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pray with me for God to open their hearts and give them faith to trust in Him as their Savior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It is also a great joy to see Robert helping to lead the worship in song because he is the first person that I met at the bridge and the first one there that the Lord used me to draw to Himself. We provided a guitar for Robert and I can't wait to see him again because I found a few cassette tapes and books of Tagalog worship songs for him. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Bible%20Study%20at%20the%20Bridge%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Bible%20Study%20at%20the%20Bridge%203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971093941481979?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971093941481979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971093941481979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971093941481979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971093941481979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/bible-study-at-bridge.html' title='Bible Study at the Bridge'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971121999885773</id><published>2007-01-07T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:47:00.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This typhoon thing takes getting used to</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;This whole typhoon thing takes a little getting used to. Being a native California boy has gotten&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; me used to earthquakes, but falling trees,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; sheets of rain that seem to fly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; sideways, heavy winds that topple billboards, pummel signs, knock down walls,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;  launch roofs, and blow down houses is completely new to me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Fallen%20Ortigas%20sign%201.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Fallen%20Ortigas%20sign%201.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I even started writing this blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;st1:stockticker&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;" &gt;PDA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:stockticker&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; (my little electronic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;organizer) because we were without power for two days. We woke up on Thursday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; morning and learned that power was out in the entire manila area, city of more than 14 million people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Now, there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; are a lot of electronic gadgets that I can get by without, but we were really missing our air conditioning. Despite cloud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; filled skies and continuous rain, it was very hot and sticky. After a night of hard rain the winds from the typhoon grew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; stronger.  Schools and government offices were shut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; down giving me lots of time to think.  I couldn't help thinking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; about my friends living under the bridge. When the wind caused our windows to rumble I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; remembered that they have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; no windows. The shanties that they live in have many openings that wind and rain can rip through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/IMG_1318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/IMG_1318.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Charlyn is my key contact at the bridge because she is the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; only one with a cell phone. I sent her a text message around &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="12"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;" &gt;noon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; to see how everyone was doing. She told me that the wind was really strong and the river was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; rising, but everyone was okay. My cell phone service was going on and off, but just after lunch she text-ed me again. She told me that some of the block walls around the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; bridge and near their house had fallen down from the force of the typhoon. She also told me that one of the houses got blown into the river. Thank God no one was killed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;After the worst of the typhoon had past I decided to drive over to check on my friends. Other than some minor flooding and being littered with fallen banana trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; and other foliage, my neighborhood seemed to have faired well. As I began driving there I saw that the way to the bridge looked like a battle field. The streets were filled with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; uprooted trees, downed signs, fences, and stunned people doing their best to clean it up. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Wall%20down%20over%20bridge%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Wall%20down%20over%20bridge%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;As I neared their place I noticed that the road was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; closed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I parked and walked a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;few blocks to the bridge. What at sight! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;About a 75 foot section of a twenty plus foot high block wall had fallen over &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;the road and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; bridge. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;There was a large crane, dump truck, and a crew of men dismantling the remains of the wall. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The path that served to get to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; the homes of most of the people from the bridge was completely blocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Looking at the foot of the bridge I could see where the kids would often gather to wave good-bye to me as I left. I remembered the time when they all posed for me at the end of the bridge. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Kids%20at%20the%20foot%20bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Kids%20at%20the%20foot%20bridge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Now that spot was covered with the remains of the block wall. The little ones who live down the covered path were now locked in until the crews and cranes could clear out all the debris. Sadly, to save money it is likely that the owner will not remove the broken cement from the walk way to their homes. Their simple walk home from school has turned into a literal hike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/End%20of%20the%20bridge.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/End%20of%20the%20bridge.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Sean/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Sean/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Sean/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;As soon as my friends saw me several of them came over to me anxious to tell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; me about what had happened. I was amazed at the site of this huge wall hanging over the road. It looked like it could fall at any moment. They told me that this was not the only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; wall to have fallen; another wall fell right where their houses are. I asked if I could see them, to which they eagerly agreed. They led me down a rickety old hand made ladder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; that dropped about ten feet down on the side of the bridge opposite the fallen block wall. We had to slide and crawl through several small spaces until we reached their homes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;on the other side of the bridge. These small spaces were actually more homes of other families from the bridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I was shocked to see the place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; where I had seen the little children play so many times. Just a couple of weeks earlier my son Kian had set up a small basket ball hoop on the wall which &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Wall%20over%20house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Wall%20over%20house.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;was now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Wall%20where%20kids%20used%20to%20play.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Wall%20where%20kids%20used%20to%20play.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; laying face down &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;on their play area. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The fallen wall e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;xtended across the ground just two feet shy of about four houses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; The path to Edwin and Charlyn’s house was cut off on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; both sides. I had to crawl under a small space between the fallen wall and the ground&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; to get to their house. Once there, they quickly served me a hot cup of coffee (Filipino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; hospitality!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Sean/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;and I snapped off a few&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; pictures. I could see that a house that was on the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; second level of houses was gone. Charlyn told me that it was blown down and fell into&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; the river which washed it away. We all thanked God together that no one was hurt. It was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; interesting to note that the wall fell down all around the area where we hold our bible s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;tudy. Since this area was left unharmed, Lord willing, we will resume&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt; tomorrow. Not even a typhoon can stop the Word of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;God from being taught to these dear people and I thank the Lord for the opportunity to be a part of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971121999885773?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971121999885773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971121999885773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971121999885773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971121999885773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-typhoon-thing-takes-getting-used_07.html' title='This typhoon thing takes getting used to'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971140311760658</id><published>2007-01-06T23:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:50:03.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She knew her son was different, but she didn't know why</title><content type='html'>Our Sunday afternoon Bible study at the bridge is going well. The other day as Pastor Sonny taught from the word of God, I was able to show a few visitors from our mission (Pastor Paul and Judy Snuffer) the ministry. It gives me great joy to see Robert, my first friend from the bridge, leading the worship songs, everyone paying attention, reading along in their bibles, and asking questions. I was amazed to see for the second week in a row a few visitors from outside. I am also enjoying seeing friendships deepen among the people at the bridge like I had not observed there before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/DSC02157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/DSC02157.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As usual, its always fun to see the little ones in their bible study. Pastor Paul took a few good pictures that I thought I'd share. Merriam has been faithfully teaching the children and we were pleased to have her sister Marife join us for the first time this week. Josette also faithfully helps teach the children, which allows us to separate them into there age groups and teach them better. We were also able to move the kids Bible study from a small space under the bridge to a larger shanty. It blesses me to see the kids looking forward to teachers Meriam and Josette's coming each week. They usually follow us out to the car and wave us good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Josette%20teaching%20kids%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Josette%20teaching%20kids%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the study we all sat around talking when I could see the pain in the face of one of the mothers. Her name is Charlita. She was holding her son Chariel in her arms as she began to cry and tell us there story. I had noticed Chariel before, but only from a distance. He is a three year old little guy who is always in his mom's arms and cries a lot. He is one of the few children who does not join the other kids for the bible study. His mom comes when she can, and now I understand when Chariel doesn't join the other kids. Seeing him up close I noticed that his lips, fingers, and toes are blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Group%20under%20tarp%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Group%20under%20tarp%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlita told me that she wanted to tell me earlier, but felt ashamed to ask for help. She knew that her son was different, but she did not know why or what the problem was until just a few days earlier. Her only son Chariel was having difficulty breathing and passed out. They took him to a doctor and right away he knew that Chariel has a heart problem. It was a blessing the Pastor Paul and Judy were there because they were able to share that over 30 years ago their son was also a blue baby and had to have his heart repaired. I told Charlita that I would help them as much as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Mom%20and%20sic%20son%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Mom%20and%20sic%20son%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next day I picked up Charlita, her husband Ariel, and Chariel (Charlita + Ariel = Chariel). First we went to Philippine General Hospital (PGH). As we were driving I could hear Chariel laboring to breath. I began thinking about the man who was blind from birth in John 9:1-3. In verse two, His disciples asked Jesus, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus replied in verse three, "Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." Was this why Chariel was born with a defective heart? Is the Lord going display Himself to Chariel and the people from the bridge through His power and love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived at the PGH emergency room the doctors told us that he needed to be admitted so that they could run some tests. They assured me that he was welcome, but they also warned me that at the time, it was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;TWO PEOPLE PER BED&lt;/span&gt;. They wanted to make sure that we were okay with that before they admitted Chariel. Then what I had observed began to makes sense. I saw several beds with more than one patient on them. I saw children hooked up to breathing machines laying next to children hooked up to heart monitors on the same bed. The doctor told us that we could also go to the Philippines Heart Center. Charlita and Ariel left it up to me (which is the culturally correct thing for a Filipino to do). I decided to try the other hospital hoping that it would have more room and because it specializes in heart surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Philippines Heart Center the doctor seemed a little irritated and asked Chariel's parents why they didn't have this problem correct soon after his birth. He said that the doctor who delivered Chariel should have recognized the problem right away and recommended the surgery. However, the doctor at the heart center quickly changed his tone as Charlita explained that they couldn't afford to have the baby in the hospital. They delivered the baby by themselves in their home. As the doctor explained to me the problem with Chariel's heart he pulled out a sheet of paper breaking down the costs of the surgery. If the tests determine that they can do the surgery, then it will cost about $7,000. That is cheap compared to having heart surgery in the U.S., but it is much more than missionary family can afford. We will ask the Philippine government for help, but if the Lord puts it on your heart to help, all of us over here would deeply appreciate it. Either way, all eyes are on God to see what He will do through us and you. Stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971140311760658?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971140311760658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971140311760658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971140311760658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971140311760658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/she-knew-her-son-was-different-but-she.html' title='She knew her son was different, but she didn&apos;t know why'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971169023468091</id><published>2007-01-05T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T23:57:42.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A living picture of the Gospel</title><content type='html'>After about six hours of waiting in lines and several heart tests later, we were finally able to see the doctor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Charlita and Ariel know that their son has some kind of problem with his heart, but I could see the shock in Charlita’s face when the doctor told her that Chariel needs surgery to repair his defective heart. She asked him if they could just give him some “gamot” (medicine).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The doctor held back a surprised smile and said no.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I could tell that she was in deep thought as she stood motionless while trying to grasp what this all meant.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her eyes began to water, but she held back the tears and did her best to compose herself as she listened to the doctor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Dr. Manrique explained the results of the tests that Chariel had taken.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His heart has various defects including an obstruction in one of the valves and it is enlarged (I believe because it has been struggling to get more oxygen into his blood).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The good news is that the defects in his heart are not beyond repair, but fixing it is going to require two surgeries.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m not a doctor, but I will attempt to explain the situation as best I can.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you would rather not read my feeble attempt at describing the technical details about the heart just skip down a few paragraphs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Normal%20heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Normal%20heart.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;The heart has four chambers; right and left atrium on the top, and right and left ventricle on the bottom.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Normally, (starting from the right ventricle) the blood travels through a valve to the lungs so that it can be oxygenated.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then it returns to the heart through the left atrium, passes through a value and proceeds to the left ventricle.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;From there it is pumped through another valve to the aorta which distributes the blood to the various parts of the body to deliver oxygen and nutrients.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The blood then returns to the right atrium to repeat the process.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/1600/Defective%20heart%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/649/2295/320/Defective%20heart%20copy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;In Chariel’s case, some defect is basically allowing some blood to bypass the lungs and go straight to the body without being oxygenated (making his fingers and toes blueish) or unoxygenated blood is mixing with oxygenated blood through a hole in the between the right and left atrium.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I believe the reason Chariel needs two surgeries is that one of his heart valves is too small to handle the increased blood flow that would result from the repairs to normalize his heart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This means that the surgeon will have to first do a temporary shunt to reroute some of the blood flow until the valve grows large enough (in a year or two) to be able to handle the increased blood flow expected to result from the second operation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The second operation will repair the defect in the heart and remove the shunt from the first operation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We found out that the cost of the first surgery will be about $3000 and the second surgery will be about $7000-$8000.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We are applying for government assistance, but we don’t know if they will help us in part, in whole, or at all.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you have read my blog before, then you probably know that Charlita, Ariel, and Chariel are 1 of about 15 families living under a bridge in &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Manila&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They have no running water or electricity.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s doubtful that Charlita and Ariel could come up with the $10-$11 thousand dollars in their &lt;i style=""&gt;entire&lt;/i&gt; lifetime.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ariel told me that he usually only gets work a couple of times a week and often goes weeks without work.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Based on that, I estimate that during a good month (one in which when he finds work at least two days every week) he would make about $48 dollars a month.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s about $1.60 a day for the whole family to live on!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While driving home I told them that I don’t know how we will pay for the surgeries, but not to worry, God will provide.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I probably would not normally say that, but from some reason I believe He will this time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When we got back to the bridge several of the families there came to me to find out the latest with Chariel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I began explaining to them the situation I again saw that Charlita did not fully understand the seriousness of Chariel’s condition.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For a second time she appeared to be shocked.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This time she was shocked when she heard me tell the others that the doctor said Chariel’s longest life expectancy would probably been in his teens if he did not have these surgeries.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They were probably to numb to even being thinking about their little three year hold having his chest opened and having human hands working on his heart. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think that everyone living at the bridge was shocked when they heard the cost of the operation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I could hear many of them repeating the words, “That’s over a half million pesos!”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I could understand the sense of hopelessness that Charlita and Ariel must have felt when they heard what seems to be a price beyond their ability to pay for the life saving operations for their only child.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What a powerful way that God has given me to share with them how God is experienced in paying for debts that are beyond our ability to pay.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will use this opportunity to share with them how God paid the penalty of our sins with the life of His only Son.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They have heard the gospel through my friend Pastor Sonny and me several times, but now they will get to see a living illustration of it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My wife Jessica and I were able to cover the 5,000 pesos for the heart tests, but the cost of the surgeries is beyond what we can do on our own.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I now plead with you and all who read this to let God use you to show his love for His people at the bridge.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Consider proclaiming to this family and community how great God is by making a sacrifice to help Chariel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Lets illustrate the gospel together not only in words, but also in deed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971169023468091?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971169023468091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971169023468091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971169023468091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971169023468091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/living-picture-of-gospel.html' title='A living picture of the Gospel'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971210248517822</id><published>2007-01-04T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T00:01:42.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving those who love the gifts, but not the gift giver</title><content type='html'>Finding balance between meeting physical needs and spiritual needs can be quite tricky. There is a part of me that wants to do and give everything I can to help those who are in need. I can see myself giving up more in my life to help some of the endless needs of the poor. At the same time I can see how giving too much can be a hinderance to the gospel. The problem is that people become more interested in the gifts than God, the gift giver. I'm sure that some of the people that I am ministering to fall into that category.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/199185/seangivingshoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/710931/seangivingshoes.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Right now I am in the process of helping a few of my friends from the bridge who have few to no teeth in getting false teeth. Two of them seem to be genuinely excited about the Lord and are faithful in reading and learning the word of God. Another is clearly not, but he is a regular attender to the bible studies we provide. However, there are a couple of possible reasons for this. It could be that he is attending the bible studies because he feels obligated due to the help I have given him and his family. It is also possible that he could be thinking that a one hour bible study each week is a small price to pay in exchange for what he has already recieved and for the possibility of getting more stuff in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just say that I don't help people in the hopes that they will feel indebted to me. And I don't help people simply to create opportunities to share the gospel (However, I don't mind that meeting phyiscal needs does create opportunities). Actually, I can't help but to help the needy. God has made me in a way that I find great joy in helping them physically, but even more, spiritually. I often remember that I was spiritually dead, a needy sinner, underserving and desperatly in need of help. God mercifully reached out to me, forgave me, and helped an undeserving guy like me. With that reality ringing in my head and heart, I can't help but be moved and motivated to help others. I really do enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do what I can with the limited resources that God has given me to help the poor with their physical needs. More importantly, I always try to do the most loving thing that I could possibly do - I share with them the best thing that I have, Jesus Christ. If I merely feed them, give them clothes, medicine, an encouragement, I would be selfishly hording my greatest treasure for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/325686/IMG_1701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/756819/IMG_1701.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So how much giving of material things is too much? I believe that we should give enough to show love and meet desperate needs, but not so much that the reciever becomes focused on the gift rather than the gift giver (who ultimately is God). I imagine that having the right balance will be a life long challange. I also realize that there will always be some who will take advantage of me and who are not really sincere about Christ, but in the end, those who truly embrace Christ make it all worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971210248517822?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971210248517822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971210248517822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971210248517822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971210248517822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/loving-those-who-love-gifts-but-not.html' title='Loving those who love the gifts, but not the gift giver'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-116971218404189084</id><published>2007-01-03T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T00:03:04.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas party for my friends at the bridge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/109784/Party%20pic%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/596312/Party%20pic%202.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/996529/Party%20pic%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/965076/Party%20pic%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Most people would just see a group of people casually dressed having a simple party. However, As I looked closer I noticed that there was something different about my friends that day. This was a special event for them, everyone was showered, dressed up, and some of the ladies were even wearing make-up; a luxury that is sparingly used. I was even surprised to see that a few of them were using some old 35mm camera's to take pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I passed by this local fast food restaurant many times over the last several years, but to be hosting a party in it for the people who live under the bridge that lay around the block from it had never entered my mind. Starting with showing love to one needy man I was now touching the lives of over 75 men, women, and children. What a privilege God has given me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our party started with a few dances from some of the kids. This was followed by a couple testimonies. My friend Nestor shared how as a child he witness his father and brother's executions. He went on to live a life and crime until God saved him in prison. Now his life is dedicated to serving God and sharing the good new of how God had forgiven his many sins and made him a new person inside and out. After the testimonies I showed a 10 minute video that I had put together of my friends from the bridge. They were cheering and laughing as they watched pictures of themselves, family and friends set to popular Filipino music and "Lord I lift your name on high" which they enjoy singing at our bible study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/967656/Kids%20being%20taught%20at%20Christmas%20party.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/238634/Kids%20being%20taught%20at%20Christmas%20party.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After dinner we had the kids taken to another room where they played games and had a time of teaching and sharing the gospel. Josette used some material from Evangelism Explosion for youth. May of the kids were engaged as they heard that Jesus receives into his family everyone trusts in Him alone. These kids not only get to hear these words, but they get to see the love of Christ lived out before their eyes as we go to minister to them each week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/451175/Pastor%20Noel%20preatching.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/991623/Pastor%20Noel%20preatching.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I invited my friend pastor Noel Alberto to give a special message for the teens and adults. From Luke chapter one he taught how Jesus came to be born as man while remaining the Son of God so that He could pay for our sins. After a powerful message he invited everyone to pray on their knees and asked those who wanted to receive and follow Jesus to raise their hands. I was blessed to see many respond. Some were praying, some were crying, and all were having a good time. The coming days will give opportunity to see fruit in their lives to demonstrate the genuiness of their hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/77522/Praying%20on%20kness%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/74138/Praying%20on%20kness%202.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all had a great time together as friends and family. This was a special time that I pray will be the first of many parties to come that will continue throughout eternity. I know that the families were blessed and that God has been pulling at a lot of hearts at Manalo Bridge. Pray with me that they would all know Jesus as their Lord and Savior and that they would long for their Father in heaven who desires to prepare beautiful homes a from them in heaven. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/106975/Raising%20hands%20to%20recieve%20Christ%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/155442/Raising%20hands%20to%20recieve%20Christ%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-116971218404189084?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/116971218404189084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=116971218404189084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971218404189084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/116971218404189084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/01/christmas-party-for-my-friends-at.html' title='Christmas party for my friends at the bridge'/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23857665.post-5404874789258653897</id><published>2007-01-01T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T08:38:36.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/524132/Jerwin%20and%20Kian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/845094/Jerwin%20and%20Kian.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jerwin is a 19 year old junior in High School. I meet him under &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Manalo&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;Bridge&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; where he and his five siblings live with their mother. His father died 5 years ago from a heart condition. &lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;His mom is supporting the family by selling skewers of barbequed meat at an out door market.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Two of her six children live many hours away with their Lola (grandmother).&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I suspect that they live apart from their mom and the rest of the siblings because their mom simply can’t afford to take care of them all. &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;When I first met Jerwin I noticed that he is blind in one eye one. He appears to have no retina at all as his right eye is solid white. I suspect that it is just covered by a film. He is a quite young man and my oldest son Kian started a friendship when he discovered that Jerwin plays the guitar.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/1600/652956/IMG_1458.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/649/2295/320/910582/IMG_1458.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today I'm writing this blog at the &lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;East&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placename&gt;Avenue&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placename&gt;Medical&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;Center&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; with Jerwin. I brought him to the hospital to see if they there can do anything for him.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After the initial consultation with the doctor we learned that his damaged eye cannot be saved. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;With my limited Tagalog and Jerwin's limited English I learned that when he was about three months old, he somehow cut or scratched his eye. Then he got some kind of infection that virtually killed his eye. The doctor told me that Jerwin’s left eye is good, but he can't even detect light with his right eye. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The doctor went on to tell me that they would do a painful procedure (she said that in English so I hope he didn't understand that part) to remove his damaged eye, perhaps just the top layers of it, and then install a prosthetic one.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Most of the cost is covered through a ministry called Resources for the Blind, and a few other organizations. Jessica and I will just cover the cost of the medicines and travel expanses.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Jerwin has been floating in and out of the bible study at the bridge or listening from a distance. I'm praying that between the Lord meeting this need, the teaching of the Word, and an up coming youth camp that he is planning on attending, that God will touch his heart and that he will receive Jesus as both Lord and savior.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This situation reminds of Bartimaeus. He is a man in the bible who serves as a good example that sometimes the blind can see better than the sighted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In Mark 10:47 we can see that although he was physically blind, he had 20/20 spiritual sight. It says that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;"When Bartimaeus heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Without function eyes he was able to see what most men and women in the world miss; That Jesus is the Son of David, the promised messiah, the savior that God had promised to send into the world. He also knew that his only hope was to cry out to God for mercy. I hope that Jerwing will SEE this as well. Pray that even though he is blind in one eye, that he would not be blind in any way to the gospel. Also pray with me that God will not only work in Jerwins's heart, but also in the hearts of his family as He uses me to minister to them.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23857665-5404874789258653897?l=friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/feeds/5404874789258653897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23857665&amp;postID=5404874789258653897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/5404874789258653897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23857665/posts/default/5404874789258653897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://friendsfromthebrige.blogspot.com/2007/02/jerwin-is-19-year-old-junior-in-high.html' title=''/><author><name>Sean Ransom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009548452837070703</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XItysrfH2s/TwFqQua2AhI/AAAAAAAAA0M/IsIO4jxGdHc/s220/DSC_0722_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
