Room Enough

A Clearing in the Forest


The pangs of death surrounded me,
And the floods of ungodliness made me afraid...

He sent from above, He took me;
He drew me out of many waters...

He delivered me from my strong enemy,
From those who hated me
For they were too strong for me.

They confronted me in the days of my calamity
But the Lord was my support.

He also brought me out into a broad place;
He delivered me because He delighted in me.

- Psalm 18:4, 16-19

Typhoon Ketsana (locally known as tropical strom Ondoy) hit Metro Manila and surrounding regions two weeks ago, leaving unbelievable destruction and devastation in its path after 16 hours of unrelenting rain.

A week later, super typhoon Parma (locally named Pepeng) struck our northern provinces, and stayed for ten days. Just imagine what ten days of strong winds and non-stop rains can do.

This time, not only was there more widespread flooding, there were also deadly mudslides across this mountainous area of our islands.

The death toll rising by the hour.

Untold damage to infrastructure and crops.

Personal loss.

Once thriving businesses...grim hopes and slim chances of being recovered.

Thousands of flood victims living like refugees in evacuation centers, waiting for relief goods to reach them amid news that flood waters in many parts will not recede until the end of this year.

Fear, hopelessness and despair etched on their faces.


As I boarded my 9 a.m. flight to Bacolod City yesterday, Typhoon Parma still had not left our country.

Only this morning, ten days after it struck, was the typhoon reported to be finally on its way out of our country.

But leaving in its wake,

people grieving over the death of loved ones,

homes lost, destroyed, or filled with debris and mud,

mountains of garbage still waiting to be collected,

sickness breaking out in many quarters,

conflicting ideas and debates among city engineers on how to clean up the mess and open up additional flood spillways,

finger pointing and blame shifting among politicians...


Even our province, located in the middle part of the country, was not spared from the effects of the recent typhoons. There was also flooding in several coastal areas.



To be honest, I arrived in Bacolod City yesterday with a heavy heart. To intercede for our nation is God's call upon my life, so it is but natural that I carry the pain of my fellow countrymen, trying to feel what they are going through.


Watching the news on television as the events unfold before my tear-filled eyes, I had several questions for God on my heart:

Where are You in all these, Lord?

What is Your purpose in all these, dear God?


In the midst of so much devastation and loss, I can't help but wonder how much my puny efforts can really contribute. Where do I even begin to pray?

I shudder as I realize how helpless I really am.

A bag of groceries, a blanket, several bottles of water, a loaf of bread. Thousands of hands reaching out.

An angry mob rushing toward the approaching van loaded with relief goods. It is not enough. It never will be.

That's how desperate the situation can get.

Sometimes I can't help feeling that whatever anyone does to help is a feeble, pitiful attempt to touch their pain.

Wounds run deep. It would be sheer arrogance for one to say he understands.



No one, absolutely no one can fathom the depths of their hearts.

No one... except God.

So, rather than be overwhelmed by a deep sense of helplessness, I know one must hold on to hope.

It's the only way for recovery to begin, even in my own heart.

I must choose to hang on, and step out in faith, believing that out of death comes life, even if at the moment hope is but a mere glimmer, and faith is smaller than a mustard seed.


Yes, I must be the one to stand in the gap, and believe for my fellow Filipinos, many of whom do not have the strength to carry on, let alone muster enough faith to see beyond their present sufferings.


A mayor is moved to tears at the sight of a tiny baby's body recovered from the mudslides in Pangasinan. You see the hollow look in the eyes of families huddled together in front of an ugly gaping sinkhole where their homes once stood. You look at farmers standing before ruined ricefields buried under thick mud and silt, their months of labor now all amounting to nothing.

The same story is repeated in thousands of lives.

I have my questions, so do they.

There are no easy answers at a time like this, I know.



But these past days I have been reminded of the last day of our retreat in Baguio City.

Just over a month ago five of my friends and I were in that city, spending time with God, seeking His face, longing to hear a timely word from Him for the next leg of our personal journeys. In fact I have written about that time in my early September blog posts.

As of this writing, Baguio City is isolated from the rest of the country. All the mountain roads leading to that lovely mountain city have been rendered impassable by super typhoon Parma.

But, somehow, all of us who heard from God during the days that we were there last month have received a fresh touch from Him. How lovingly God had taken notice of our individual needs. Little did we know then that just a few weeks after, we would be hanging on to the words of life that He had spoken into our hearts!


Our devotional that morning was from Genesis 26. The story is about Isaac digging again the wells that his father Abraham had dug. There was strife and contention over the wells.

Finally a third well is dug, and there was no quarrel over it. So he calls its name Rehoboth, saying,

For now the LORD has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.

Rehoboth literally means spaciousness, or room enough.

It also means a broad place.


God spoke to our hearts that morning:

Leave the place of strife, or contention.

Refuse to be bound. Seek My kingdom, and My righteousness.

Drink from the well of broad places. There is room enough in the presence of your God.

Find grace, find mercy, open your heart to the endless possibilities of My goodness and My love.


God is inviting us to experience the nearness of His heart where there is space and freedom to grow, so that together with the psalmist we can declare,

You enlarged my path under me, so my feet did not slip (Psalm 18:36).


Just as Abraham received from God the promise of Canaan land after he separated from his nephew Lot, so are we to separate from what hinders and defiles, if we truly desire to obtain our inheritance in Him!

And the LORD said to Abram, after Lot had separated from him: “Lift your eyes now and look from the place where you are—northward, southward, eastward, and westward; for all the land which you see I give to you and your descendants forever." (Genesis 13:14)

God wants to draw us near, where we are unhindered, where we have room enough to discover more of Him, more of how He sees us, more of what He wants to do in our lives.

But this requires a pure heart... brokenness... a willingness to be set apart.



The flood in Noah's Day was a symbol of purging, and cleansing.

So it is today.

Behold, God makes all things new.

There have been many prophetic words spoken over our nation. God will come in righteousness. But before that happens, cleansing needs to take place at a deep level in the heart of our nation.

This is a time of separation, of the axe being laid at the root. Every tree that does not bear fruit needs to be cut down.


Not just for this country, but wherever there is a shaking, a sifting. At the same time that the typhoons came to our country, earthquakes were happening in other places.

God is exposing the false, removing faulty foundations, preparing the world for His coming.

God is seeking the fruit.


God knows what He is doing. I will wait for His timetable, I will wait for His deliverance.


In the words of David S. Lampel,

What good is there in calling upon a God who does only our bidding? That would not be a god, but a marionette.

The truth of living is found in the waiting, in the dependency, in the strong arm that ultimately reaches down into our abyss and draws us up to safety.

Aspects, Issue # 141

I begin to sense peace and comfort as God continues to speak to my heart.

You are not the Savior of your nation. I am...

Enter the broad places that I am opening up before you.

When you see these things happening, look up, for your salvation is near.


This is my heart's response: Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus, come!

But as for me, my prayer is to You, O Lord,
at an acceptable time;

O God, in the greatness of Your lovingkindness,
Answer me with Your saving truth.

Deliver me from the mire
and do not let me sink;

May I be delivered from my foes
and from the deep waters.

May the flood of water not overflow me
Nor the deep swallow me up,
Nor the pit shut its mouth on me.

- Psalm 69:13-15