The Island of Stones

" I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

-Philippians 4:13 (NIV)

We came to Rock Island early one morning, riding up a bumpy road through the mountains of Agusan del Sur. Every stone under the wheels seemed to speak a language I did not understand. Despite its name, Rock Island is not an island. There is no water around it. It is a village high on a mountain, covered with rocks and stones, as if a giant had emptied his pockets there and walked away.

Purok 13, Santa Monica, Bunawan Brook, was tucked inside it like a hidden treasure. I came from Myanmar, a country with different sounds, different foods, and different ways of greeting people. Here, everything felt strange and very big. The people around me talked and laughed, but I could not understand a single word. I felt like I was standing inside a glass bubble, able to see everyone but unable to reach them.

My partner came from Cebu, so this place was new to her too, and we often sat together in quiet. There was no market, no fresh vegetables to buy. In the evenings, when the sun turned the hills golden, I thought of my mother's kitchen, my family's voices, and my own little bed. I cried. I had never faced such a hard time before, and sadness sat beside me like a guest who would not leave.But sadness can make room in the heart, and in that room, something wonderful came.

In those quiet evenings, my thoughts turned to Jesus. He left the glory of heaven and came down to this earth. He had no home of His own and no easy comforts, yet He never complained. He gave everything, even His life, because He loved me. When I thought of this, my sadness, which had felt as big as the mountain, became as small as a stone in my hand.

Strength grew inside me, calm and steady. Then kindness came to us, as if the whole village had been waiting. A church elder promised us twenty-five kilograms of rice every month. His daughter, Arjelin, welcomed us into her home. My partner and I planted a little vegetable garden together.

I cooked and she cleaned, and I finally understood what our teacher, Miss Dean, meant: "Your partner is your first mission field." Every morning, afternoon, evening, and even at midnight, my partner prayed. Her prayers rose through the house like a gentle song, and I fell asleep feeling safe.

Now we visit homes, checking blood pressure and blood sugar, and giving gentle massages. We sit with church members who had stopped coming, pray with them, and worship in their small, lamp-lit rooms. I have learned that joy does not come from good roads or a comfortable life. It comes from knowing Jesus is with us. "I can do all things through Christ which strengthened me." Rock Island has become a garden of praise, and my tears of homesickness have turned into songs of joy.

Name: Lum Nyoi | 67th Batch | 1000MM

Hometown: Nepal

Mission Field: Santa Monica, Bunawan Brook, Agusan Del Sur