He was wearing rags. Grey pieces of dirty fabric, which resembled an old coat, hung off his malnourished body. His head hung low as he shivered in the cold.
A business man walked by in a hurry smacking the little boy around the head with his brief case. The boy didn't flinch and the man didn't notice. It must have hurt him. Blood must have pulsated through his veins throbbing. It was a hard blow.
But this boy, he had experienced many smacks across his gaunt face, and no one ever stopped to apologise or ask if he was ok. He was unseen. Hidden. Alone.
His grey rags mirrored the colour of his face almost camouflaging him as he sat on the street corner with his scrawny body leant up against a grey building. Everything was colourless. Dark greys filled the environment. The buildings were grey, the pavements were grey, the road was grey and even the sky was grey. Darkness surrounded. There was a numbness in the air. The temperature was cold, but everyone, including myself didn't even feel the frost that was lingering.
I was walking in a busy city, I think I was in London. As I was walking through the crowd I was feeling like I was really unseen. I felt like I was unknown. I felt like I was unloved. I felt like nobody knew me and nobody cared. As I was feeling that that's when I looked and there was the little boy sat on the street corner in rags, and in poverty. He was just sat on this street corner and not one person was stopping for him. Not one person was offering him food. Not one person was smiling at him. He looked alone and I kind of knew what he was feeling because that's how I was feeling.
I began to fix my eyes on him. In his hand he had a small bunch of wild flowers that looked like weeds. They were wrapped up in white crumpled paper that was so dirty it was more black than white. He lifted up this little bunch of rubbishy flowers and handed them to me. I reached down and took them.
Then I woke up, I was having a dream! It was one of those dreams that felt so real, so vivid. As I woke up that morning, I felt God speak some specific things that were personal to me about this dream. But four months on, and now finding myself living in one of the poorest places in the world, reaching out to those who are unseen, I have been regularly reminded of this dream.
One thing that I feel God has called me to do is to reach out to those who are unseen. Everyday I'm surrounded by many, many people. I wake up in the morning hearing the cries of babies wanting food, the sound of children running to school, the man who shouts "BALUT" at the top of his voice to sell a 'delicious' Filipino delicacy, the sound of the mechanics across the road starting work, the man up the street shouting as local children are misbehaving. And not long after I open my eyes each day, even when the noise is annoying, I remember that I'm here to love them.
And then I step outside my unit and there is always someone there looking at me (mostly because I'm the only foreigner living in the community). I walk down the street and I see the old, old lady with a small plastic bag picking up rubbish to sell for food. I see the mother nursing her baby on the side of the road. I see the hundreds of tricycle drivers who are constantly asking "where you going ma'am?" in the hope that I'll allow them to ride me there. I see the lady mopping her brow as she makes yet another kilo of boiled rice to sell outside of her shack. I see the local barangay man setting up his station ready for a day's work looking after the community. I see children walking to school in groups. I see a little boy of about 2 playing on the street alone with just a small coin. I see the grandpa sat outside of his 'home' smoking a cigarette. I see the naked 7 year old covered in dirt running through the rubbish 'playing'. I see the boy with severe disfiguration to his face, drinking Coke out of a plastic bag. I see the drug addict sniffing glue. I see the lady at the market lifting a heavy load as she sets up her stall of bananas. I see the boy riding a bike with two punctures and no brakes. I see so many people...
And I have a choice. Do I push through the crowd in a hurry, ignoring everyone? Or do I walk slowly through the crowd and look at as many people as I can? I would like to say I always choose the latter. I don't. But, for the most part, I do make a conscious decision to look into the eyes of those who come across my path, every day. To look into the eyes of the lonely, the unseen, the oppressed, the sick, the marginalised, the forgotten, the down trodden. Sometimes it's just a smile. Sometimes it's a hug. Sometimes it's giving a banana, or a drink of water. Sometimes it's blowing bubbles. Sometimes it's an encouraging word. Sometimes it's a high five. Sometimes it's a selfie. Sometimes it's a prayer. Sometimes it's a few coins. Sometimes it's chicken and rice. Sometimes it's a sticker. Sometimes it's a snack. It looks different all the time, but it must look like something.
When I get time to speak with people, I always tell them that God sees them. Most of the time tears stream down their cheeks as they nod in agreement. They know He does, but sometimes they feel so seen and so alone. And life is unimaginably hard. I know God has called me to love the unseen and so that's what I just do.
But, I wonder if you have ever felt, or feel today, unseen? I know there have been times in my life when I've felt so alone, like nobody cares. I've felt unseen when I've had lots of people looking at me! You see, coming from the Western world, it's easy to fluff our lives up with 'stuff'. The more things we have, the better we feel, or so we often tell ourselves. People here don't have much stuff, and they are living amongst the rubbish. Their pain and issues are so visible because they don't have 'stuff' to cover it up. But wherever we are in the world, we all have issues on the inside. We all go through seasons of feeling alone, feeling afraid, feeling unnoticed.
If you're reading this blog today, I'm not telling you all this to make myself look good. I'm just a normal girl, living a normal life (it's my normal). I'm far from perfect. I've got issues. I've made mistakes. I've got rubbish that I need to clean up from time to time. I know what it is to be abused and betrayed, I've known pain and hardship. I've seen a lot. But I want you, yes you, the beautiful human being that you are, to know that YOU ARE SEEN. YOU ARE KNOWN. YOU ARE LOVED. YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN. YOU ARE ENOUGH. YOU ARE PRECIOUS. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE VALUABLE. And God loves you exactly where you are right now. And whether you believe it or not, feel it or not, He sees you. He delights in you. He is waiting for you to run into His arms of love, to know what true love and acceptance really looks like.
Maybe you didn't realise you could relate so closely to those I have the honour of loving and serving in Manila. But, I know you can. The human heart needs to be fully known, deeply loved, and completely seen.
So my hope and prayer for sharing some of my daily endeavours is that YOU would be encouraged, YOU would know that the God who sees those in poverty sees you too.
Be blessed, friends, and know that HE SEES YOU! ❤️❤️