Silverlinings (for other editions, see Silverlinings )

Life Couldn't Be Better
(November 11, 2006)

There were no warning signs. They always tell us to take notice of warning signs, but there were none posted. Of course, we weren't even looking for signs. Rovina and I suspected no imminent danger as we strolled leisurely along the seashore looking for unbroken shells. We were just enjoying being away from the city, breathing in fresh air, smelling the sea, watching the waves come ashore. What a joy it is to be a missionary on an island-at least it's a joy when you get the unusual opportunity to go to the beach. Can life get any better!

I have always loved visiting the beaches where I have served as a missionary:

Black lava sand with its huge coconut crabs at Talofofo, Guam Picturesque and massive white, talcum-fine sand beaches in Durban, South Africa Rocky bays and 1000 miles of relaxing beaches like Playa Grande in the Dominican Republic Palm-lined and sun-kissed secluded beaches near the underwater park in St. Croix, Virgin Islands Fine grayish brown sand and stalls selling bake and shark sandwiches at Maracas Bay in Trinidad

And now this almost deserted surfing beach with its coarse, brown sand near Montemar Village in La Union Province. Farther down the beach, I spied a man casting a fishing net into the rolling waves meant for the bodysurfer looking to catch the perfect wave. I watched him grasp the lead line in both hands, turn full counter-clockwise, and then with a blink of the eye, cast the net smoothly far out into the rushing waves. No luck this time. He will try again and again. Nearby, a lone dog sat on the gentle sloping shoreline, seemingly enjoying the scenery and the sound of the sea. Everything was serene. Can life get any better?

We saw the remains of a recently constructed sandcastle and the tools used to build it-a bright yellow plastic cup, a thin flat stick, and a few colorful caps and lids of various sizes from unseen bottles. Not wanting to ruin what was left of the sculpture, we stepped carefully between the castle and the building tools. That's when it happened. I fell to my waist straight down into a booby trap. My flinging arms had somehow caught me from falling any further into the deep narrow pit. The damp sand surrounding the hole began to crumble in around me, and I felt myself sliding a little farther down as the collapsing sand encircled my legs and waist.

My heart began to race and pound against the bones of my chest. Surely Rovina could hear its pounding above the sound of the waves hitting the shore. I imagined there was quicksand pulling me further down into the hole. With my claustrophobic memories, I imagined I would be smothered eventually as the sand would envelop me completely. Although these thoughts took only seconds, it seemed so much longer. Finally, adrenaline rushed through my body, and I began to drag myself out of the clutches of the trap. The sand stubbornly refused to let go and grabbed at my sandals as I miraculously yanked myself up and out of the trap. My body shook as the adrenaline receded. I realized I was hurting and numb all over: my jaws, my back, my arms, my legs, my knees, my ankles-everywhere. I found my shaking legs could not support me, and I collapsed on the remains of the forgotten sand castle.

After making sure I was not seriously hurt, Rovina made frantic attempts digging quickly into the pit to find my sandals, but the hole kept filling in with sand, and she could not dig deep or fast enough. She found the remains of the booby trap someone had set with sticks and sheets of plastic bags, but the sandals were gone forever. My body was sore from head to toe. Life could get a little better than this!

As I stumbled back to the hotel and onto the hot sun-baked rocks of the beachwalk, I thanked God I wasn't seriously hurt, but my feet sure missed the sandals. The encounter had been short, lasting only seconds, but it had been truly terrifying. If I had been a child; if I had not stretched my arms out when I started falling; if I had been alone, if-if is a big word for only two letters of the alphabet. The incident could have proven much worse, but I was safe-I had only lost my sandals. Surely someone had been praying for me that day.

One of the workers of the hotel massaged my ankles with virgin coconut oil and the swelling began to go down. The shoes I had to wear were too tight with the slight swelling remaining around the ankles. I thanked God that I wasn't seriously hurt, but I sure missed my sandals. Life could be a little better.

After returning from the beach, I discovered a box had arrived from my Grace Chapel LINKS church. Inside the box was what I like to call comfort food-Double Decker Moon pies from Chattanooga, Tennessee. This made my comfort pantry complete. I had already received a box of grits from my friend Karen Jones. Student Julie Woolery had given me Hot Tamales candy. When the Work and Witness team arrived, NMI President Eunice Brubaker had brought Diet Dr. Peppers. And I had been able to purchase corn meal in Baguio. Comfort food from home--can life get any better?

Digging into other surprises in my LINKS box from Salem, I pulled out CDs, books, toothpaste, AND… two pairs of sandals! I laughed as I thought about God's little surprises. Way back in August, He had directed my LINKS church in North Alabama to put in not one pair, but two pairs of sandals, to arrive in the Philippines just at the time of need. I thanked God again that I wasn't hurt, and also thanked him for my sandals.

I had only breathed a prayer for a pair of sandals. God gave me two pair. I needed them in November. He had already sent them in August before I even asked. Life can't get any better when He is in control!

"I will answer them before they even call to Me. While they are still talking to Me about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers!" (Isaiah 65:24, TLB)

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Dr. Geneva Silvernail

Asia-Pacific Regional Literature Coordinator
Regional Education Consultant

Asia Pacific Nazarene Theological Seminary
Ortigas Ave. Ext. Kaytikling, Taytay
1920 Rizal Philippines

Email: gsilvernail@apnaz.org
ministry@genevasilvernail.org