november millier news
Dear Lovers of God and Followers of Yeshua,
Sorry once more for the late-ness. Internet access has been "spotty" since the flooding of typhoon Ondoy. But we got reconnected last night. So do please read on.
Let me tell a quick (ha ha!) typhoon Ondoy story. The morning of Sep 26 there were heavy rains, but I saw no reason for alarm. None of us did. It struck me as funny when Dawn, our 17 year old daughter, announced at around 9am that she finally did believe in global warming. That was, I think, after water started collecting quite notably in the street outside of our rented Manila townhome. Of course, in our five years living in Manila, we've seen flooding in the streets during typhoons before...but never in our five years of being here has water ever entered our home. Once water came in under the door, however, I started taking pictures with our camera. After all, I reasoned, it will only be a few inches on our stone tiled floors. No biggy! Better just have some fun. Boy was I wrong!...
After a very short while it became clearer that we were dealing with a substantial flood. So all family members (except for Ian, our mentally retarded fifteen year old son) began taking lighter downstairs items upstairs. The heavier stuff such as the refrigerator, stove/oven, and washing machine we left, not even suspecting that by the afternoon these appliances would be completely submerged in water, mud, and oil. In fact, by late afternoon, the flood reached all the way to the ceiling of our first floor...a full immersion that, by evening, even threatened to take on the second floor.
When the water in the streets was chest high on Matthew (age twelve), Deborah sent he and Dawn to one of Dawn's friend's house who lives about 500 meters away on higher ground. Little did we know that they too would experience severe flooding.
Once Dawn and Matt were gone, that left Deborah, Ian, and I in the house. Deborah and I took to helping neighbors while Ian was locked in his second story bedroom and happily and safely playing. It was an emergency situation, you understand. We helped weeping neighbors tote what we could up their stairs, aware that we were/are foreigners in their country, without the same emotional ties to our home and things. On top of that, we were/are missionaries, thus we have left stuff a lot of times before. And on top of on top of that, we were/are Christians, who do not have the same values about material possessions as many of our neighbors. When we were in our house, Deborah and I joked and chattered. It was only things we had lost, and our family was safe. When we were with neighbors, however, we saw that it was a more serious thing for them.
I remember calling Deborah to cross the river which was our street to help me prioritize one woman's possessions for expedient salvaging. I am a fine pack-mule; you point to me and tell me to move it and I can handle that. But I don't have the same knack for on-the-spot evaluation that Deborah has. And I remember appreciating Deborah all the more as this strong woman (Deborah) made hard choices for a distraught woman who had no one else nearby to help her while her computer and several other expensive appliances had been overtaken by the swiftly rising water. The woman was overwhelmed and unable to function while chest high in mucky water in her living room looking at furniture, appliances, books and memorabilia either floating or sinking. Deborah, on the other hand, was cheery and organized...and extremely helpful to this woman and to everyone.
Once Deborah and I had returned to our own townhome, and checked on, then released Ian from his room (he began enjoying all the mommy/daddy time), we all settled in for the night. We could no longer exit our townhome by any doors. The first floor was completely under water, mud, and oil. And the rain outside still fell. Deborah and I shared watches in the dark hours (electricity off...candles and flashlight only) to determine whether or not we would have to move what we could, and then ourselves, up the attic stairs. Thankfully we have three stories and thankfully the water only came to within two stairs of beginning to take on our second story. It stopped before any water and oil came where we had settled in for the night.
We had plenty of water since we have a porcelain-filter water purification system (given to us by a supporter) with a sizable tank that was filled when we carried it upstairs. However, Deborah, Ian, and I had between us only two cans of tuna, one small package of saltine crackers, a partially eaten bag of sugared mango balls, and then a tin of small candies, also made from mangoes. Later, Deborah found upstairs somewhere two little individually wrapped cakes...like the kind you might put in a lunch box. That's all the food we had...at first. Naturally, Deborah and I prioritized Ian since he could not understand if he were not eating regularly. Interestingly, although he ate a WHOLE lot less during that day, that night, the next full day, and part of the day after, than he usually does -- and we kept him drinking as much as we could to take the edge off his hunger -- he stayed happy the whole time. Never a complaint!
The next day people began delivering fast food. Ian was even happier. As were we!
In the meantime, the afternoon of the first day of flooding, we had received a text on Deborah's cellphone that the home Dawn and Matthew had fled to was also starting to fill up with water. The last text we received before we lost cellphone coverage, and it grew dark, stated that Matthew had cut his foot while helping to move a glass table up the stairs of that house. And that was it. All that night, then all the next day, we had no update on Matt's (or Dawn's) status. In the late afternoon of the second day, I got a crazy idea. I figured I would run it past Deborah before I considered acting on it. The idea was for me to jump out of our second story window and to swim upstream the 500 meters or so of streets leading to the house where Dawn and Matt were staying. Just to find out how they were...and especially to find out if Matt needed medical attention. When I ran the idea past Deborah she said "yes" without any hesitation. She too was concerned and this seemed like the only feasible way to ensure our children's safety. So when she said "yes," I quickly changed into an already dirty set of gym shorts and "beater" tee-shirt (covered with oil and muck from the previous day's activities), then gaged the jump (trying to remember where such things were as the street lamp etc and trying to avoid submerged logs and possibly sharp debris), then prayed and leaped. I went down into thick blackness, keeping my eyes tightly shut. I knew that blackish stuff I was in was full of germs! Then I came back up to the surface of the water without ever hitting anything, thank God. But YUCK, the water was so full of oil and poop and...you name it. Really smelly and nasty.
I started to swim up our street (really weird feeling by the way) that was still submerged in a little more than 2 meters (close to eight feet) of water, past bored neighbors looking down at me from their windows, when I realized that I was fighting a strong current. Therefore, I began a series of short swims to certain points, with little time-outs to rest. When I got to a bend in the road that had a banana tree grove nearby, the current was too strong for me to swim against so I pulled myself tree to tree till I rounded the bend. Then, when I got to the long straight street that led to the home where Dawn and Matthew were, someone had thankfully tied a hundred plus meter long piece of strong plastic streamer the length of most of the street. I used that for part of the journey. It really helped! I finally arrived after about fifteen minutes to the corner of the road where across the street was the house where my two kids were staying. A missionary neighbor recognized me (everybody just sort of sat most of the nights and days looking out of windows...no TV, no internet, etc) and, when she found out what I swam up there for, she went to an area in her house where she could call Dawn and Matthew through the connected wall. But I don't think they heard her. Nevertheless, it wasn't long until the kids were at the window, looking out in boredom. When their heads emerged in the frame of a window, I heard them start asking each other, "Who is that?" I was right across the street, on a hill, but still waist deep in murky water. Plus, I was looking right at them. So I spoke to Dawn in Hebrew. Startled, she called out, "Abba...is that YOU?" I didn't know, but I was covered in oil and muck and apparently was unrecognizable right off. We all chatted excitedly, found out how we each were doing; I had Matt put his foot up to the window and assure me that he was keeping it clean (they had poured peroxide on the wound several times...I insisted that Dawn make sure he took a shower...yes, the water was still running clean through all of this), then I carried some food over from a generous neighbor on my side of the street who was wanting to help the stranded teens. He was looking for a way to get pepperoni, formed hash brown potatoes (like you buy at a fastfood restaurant), and crackers to them. "Excuse me sir," he said hesitantly, looking down at me from nearby where I stood. "Would you please be able to carry this food (it was in a plastic shopping bag that he held dangling out his second story window) to those kids over there?" "I'd be glad to," I replied. "Two of those kids are my own!" So the man dropped the bag of food, I caught it with one hand, then I kicked REAL hard against the strong current and made it across the river...er...street to a place on the submerged iron fence (with really sharp points...I almost stabbed myself on it a couple of times) in front of their second story window. Brian, the kid they were staying with (his parents were out of the country at the time!) threw a rope down to me and, after a couple of tries, I was able to tie the plastic sack to the rope and he was able to haul it up and into the window. More to eat! Once I was satisfied that Dawn and Matt were fine, I said good-bye and then began the journey DOWN-STREAM back home.
Then, when our townhome was in sight, I suddenly remembered that I had made no plans for how to get back into our second story window. With the help of a neighbor across the river...er...street, who guided me, and an enterprising wife, I managed to climb up on a wire that was attached to both the outside wall of our townhome and a nearby tree (to keep the tree from leaning too far over into the street) and, finding my balance (sort of) by grasping in one hand a rope that Deborah tied to the iron grating of our second story bedroom window, and using a bed sheet she likewise tied out the window as a sort of sling, I put one leg into the bed sheet (I had to lift my leg above my head to do this, and, once committed, to risk being caught suspended over the water in a split between the tree and the sling) and pulled myself, first one leg, then the other, into the sheet. From there I was able to pull myself into the window. I was almost in when my clothing snagged on a burr or something from the iron grating. Deborah helped me unsnag, and I finally made it inside. Just as I plopped in a wet dirty heap onto our bedroom floor, everyone from our street erupted into applause! Like I said, there was nothing to do all day but hang out the windows and watch dirty diapers, shoes, or other pieces of people's lives float by. So I guess that my little plunge and then climb back were about the most exciting thing these folks had seen all day.
On the third day of the flood, when the waters in the streets were about chest deep, the boy scouts "rescued" Deborah and Ian. It was the biblical Day of Atonement, so I had planned to fast anyway. I was alone most of that day...and I really enjoyed it. Being cooped up with people, even with my wife and son, makes me a bit stir crazy. The end of that day saw Deborah and Ian return to our townhome for the night. Dawn and Matt, however, stayed with friends for the better part of the next week. We began the clean-up that is still ongoing until now.
But I have this to say: If I had to do it all over again, I can think of no person whom I'd rather share such an adventure with than Deborah. Level-headed, practical...and fun during an emergency. She sure was glad to learn that Dawn and Matt were fine and being taken care of. But no panic or whining or anything. It made me praise God even more for the wife He'd privileged me to have.
Okay, enough of that. Now please pray for the following requests RIGHT NOW...if possible:
1) Our visa extensions so we can live and minister in the Philippines.
2) Deborah's working full time as a Middle School teacher (without pay) on behalf of missionary kids from around the world.
3) Dawn's (age 17) spiritual life, personal relationships, and future plans for college etc. Ian's (age 15, but currently operating between a two to three year old level) development, physically, emotionally, socially and, yes, spiritually. Matt's (age 12) spiritual development, friendships and musical outlets (piano/and cello); that he would dedicate all to Jesus Christ.
4) For my (Michael's) teaching ministries.
5) For my main ministry focus in this country, which is still teaching the following to Filipino Christians, who intend to be employed in Israel: (1) Modern Hebrew language, (2) Israeli culture/worldview, (3) How to effectively share the gospel with Jewish people.
6) For the Milliers' ongoing financial needs, as a family and as a ministry.
7) For the peace of Jerusalem (Psa 122:6)! "Even so, come Lord Jesus!" Never forget to pray for that!
Those wishing to financially support the Milliers' ministry may send contributions to:
Church of the Nations
8780 Macon Hwy Athens, GA 30606 USA
Designate it "For the Milliers"
Or for safe online giving, please access this URL and follow the instructions given there (in particular, please remember to designate your gift "MISSIONS - Millier Family"):
https://01.secure.elexio.com/donations.aspx?id=236839&websiteur...
Shalom and Salaam (may it come soon!) to and from Jerusalem,
--Michael
P.S. You can reach us at:
Unit #24, 11th Avenue Riverside Village
Pasig 1608, Philippines
Tel: +63-2-915-1670
Cel: +63-2-927-932-9622
P.P.S. Re: The ex-congressman who shot the Manila Water sign, then denied that he did it...then threatened my life. I wrote out two witness reports for legal proceedings. VIISA Resources, Inc, the company who owns and operates Riverside Executive Townhomes, where we live, is apparently going to file charges against the man. And, on top of that, Riverside Village (in which the townhomes are located, but a separate enterprise) is apparently going to file charges against him. As for me, I just filled out the two witness reports and turned them in. No news beyond that. I hope, if it goes to trial, that it doesn't interfere with our visa renewal process. That would be a bummer. Please pray.
"Only he who cries out for the Jews may sing Gregorian chants."
-- Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Sorry once more for the late-ness. Internet access has been "spotty" since the flooding of typhoon Ondoy. But we got reconnected last night. So do please read on.
Let me tell a quick (ha ha!) typhoon Ondoy story. The morning of Sep 26 there were heavy rains, but I saw no reason for alarm. None of us did. It struck me as funny when Dawn, our 17 year old daughter, announced at around 9am that she finally did believe in global warming. That was, I think, after water started collecting quite notably in the street outside of our rented Manila townhome. Of course, in our five years living in Manila, we've seen flooding in the streets during typhoons before...but never in our five years of being here has water ever entered our home. Once water came in under the door, however, I started taking pictures with our camera. After all, I reasoned, it will only be a few inches on our stone tiled floors. No biggy! Better just have some fun. Boy was I wrong!...
After a very short while it became clearer that we were dealing with a substantial flood. So all family members (except for Ian, our mentally retarded fifteen year old son) began taking lighter downstairs items upstairs. The heavier stuff such as the refrigerator, stove/oven, and washing machine we left, not even suspecting that by the afternoon these appliances would be completely submerged in water, mud, and oil. In fact, by late afternoon, the flood reached all the way to the ceiling of our first floor...a full immersion that, by evening, even threatened to take on the second floor.
When the water in the streets was chest high on Matthew (age twelve), Deborah sent he and Dawn to one of Dawn's friend's house who lives about 500 meters away on higher ground. Little did we know that they too would experience severe flooding.
Once Dawn and Matt were gone, that left Deborah, Ian, and I in the house. Deborah and I took to helping neighbors while Ian was locked in his second story bedroom and happily and safely playing. It was an emergency situation, you understand. We helped weeping neighbors tote what we could up their stairs, aware that we were/are foreigners in their country, without the same emotional ties to our home and things. On top of that, we were/are missionaries, thus we have left stuff a lot of times before. And on top of on top of that, we were/are Christians, who do not have the same values about material possessions as many of our neighbors. When we were in our house, Deborah and I joked and chattered. It was only things we had lost, and our family was safe. When we were with neighbors, however, we saw that it was a more serious thing for them.
I remember calling Deborah to cross the river which was our street to help me prioritize one woman's possessions for expedient salvaging. I am a fine pack-mule; you point to me and tell me to move it and I can handle that. But I don't have the same knack for on-the-spot evaluation that Deborah has. And I remember appreciating Deborah all the more as this strong woman (Deborah) made hard choices for a distraught woman who had no one else nearby to help her while her computer and several other expensive appliances had been overtaken by the swiftly rising water. The woman was overwhelmed and unable to function while chest high in mucky water in her living room looking at furniture, appliances, books and memorabilia either floating or sinking. Deborah, on the other hand, was cheery and organized...and extremely helpful to this woman and to everyone.
Once Deborah and I had returned to our own townhome, and checked on, then released Ian from his room (he began enjoying all the mommy/daddy time), we all settled in for the night. We could no longer exit our townhome by any doors. The first floor was completely under water, mud, and oil. And the rain outside still fell. Deborah and I shared watches in the dark hours (electricity off...candles and flashlight only) to determine whether or not we would have to move what we could, and then ourselves, up the attic stairs. Thankfully we have three stories and thankfully the water only came to within two stairs of beginning to take on our second story. It stopped before any water and oil came where we had settled in for the night.
We had plenty of water since we have a porcelain-filter water purification system (given to us by a supporter) with a sizable tank that was filled when we carried it upstairs. However, Deborah, Ian, and I had between us only two cans of tuna, one small package of saltine crackers, a partially eaten bag of sugared mango balls, and then a tin of small candies, also made from mangoes. Later, Deborah found upstairs somewhere two little individually wrapped cakes...like the kind you might put in a lunch box. That's all the food we had...at first. Naturally, Deborah and I prioritized Ian since he could not understand if he were not eating regularly. Interestingly, although he ate a WHOLE lot less during that day, that night, the next full day, and part of the day after, than he usually does -- and we kept him drinking as much as we could to take the edge off his hunger -- he stayed happy the whole time. Never a complaint!
The next day people began delivering fast food. Ian was even happier. As were we!
In the meantime, the afternoon of the first day of flooding, we had received a text on Deborah's cellphone that the home Dawn and Matthew had fled to was also starting to fill up with water. The last text we received before we lost cellphone coverage, and it grew dark, stated that Matthew had cut his foot while helping to move a glass table up the stairs of that house. And that was it. All that night, then all the next day, we had no update on Matt's (or Dawn's) status. In the late afternoon of the second day, I got a crazy idea. I figured I would run it past Deborah before I considered acting on it. The idea was for me to jump out of our second story window and to swim upstream the 500 meters or so of streets leading to the house where Dawn and Matt were staying. Just to find out how they were...and especially to find out if Matt needed medical attention. When I ran the idea past Deborah she said "yes" without any hesitation. She too was concerned and this seemed like the only feasible way to ensure our children's safety. So when she said "yes," I quickly changed into an already dirty set of gym shorts and "beater" tee-shirt (covered with oil and muck from the previous day's activities), then gaged the jump (trying to remember where such things were as the street lamp etc and trying to avoid submerged logs and possibly sharp debris), then prayed and leaped. I went down into thick blackness, keeping my eyes tightly shut. I knew that blackish stuff I was in was full of germs! Then I came back up to the surface of the water without ever hitting anything, thank God. But YUCK, the water was so full of oil and poop and...you name it. Really smelly and nasty.
I started to swim up our street (really weird feeling by the way) that was still submerged in a little more than 2 meters (close to eight feet) of water, past bored neighbors looking down at me from their windows, when I realized that I was fighting a strong current. Therefore, I began a series of short swims to certain points, with little time-outs to rest. When I got to a bend in the road that had a banana tree grove nearby, the current was too strong for me to swim against so I pulled myself tree to tree till I rounded the bend. Then, when I got to the long straight street that led to the home where Dawn and Matthew were, someone had thankfully tied a hundred plus meter long piece of strong plastic streamer the length of most of the street. I used that for part of the journey. It really helped! I finally arrived after about fifteen minutes to the corner of the road where across the street was the house where my two kids were staying. A missionary neighbor recognized me (everybody just sort of sat most of the nights and days looking out of windows...no TV, no internet, etc) and, when she found out what I swam up there for, she went to an area in her house where she could call Dawn and Matthew through the connected wall. But I don't think they heard her. Nevertheless, it wasn't long until the kids were at the window, looking out in boredom. When their heads emerged in the frame of a window, I heard them start asking each other, "Who is that?" I was right across the street, on a hill, but still waist deep in murky water. Plus, I was looking right at them. So I spoke to Dawn in Hebrew. Startled, she called out, "Abba...is that YOU?" I didn't know, but I was covered in oil and muck and apparently was unrecognizable right off. We all chatted excitedly, found out how we each were doing; I had Matt put his foot up to the window and assure me that he was keeping it clean (they had poured peroxide on the wound several times...I insisted that Dawn make sure he took a shower...yes, the water was still running clean through all of this), then I carried some food over from a generous neighbor on my side of the street who was wanting to help the stranded teens. He was looking for a way to get pepperoni, formed hash brown potatoes (like you buy at a fastfood restaurant), and crackers to them. "Excuse me sir," he said hesitantly, looking down at me from nearby where I stood. "Would you please be able to carry this food (it was in a plastic shopping bag that he held dangling out his second story window) to those kids over there?" "I'd be glad to," I replied. "Two of those kids are my own!" So the man dropped the bag of food, I caught it with one hand, then I kicked REAL hard against the strong current and made it across the river...er...street to a place on the submerged iron fence (with really sharp points...I almost stabbed myself on it a couple of times) in front of their second story window. Brian, the kid they were staying with (his parents were out of the country at the time!) threw a rope down to me and, after a couple of tries, I was able to tie the plastic sack to the rope and he was able to haul it up and into the window. More to eat! Once I was satisfied that Dawn and Matt were fine, I said good-bye and then began the journey DOWN-STREAM back home.
Then, when our townhome was in sight, I suddenly remembered that I had made no plans for how to get back into our second story window. With the help of a neighbor across the river...er...street, who guided me, and an enterprising wife, I managed to climb up on a wire that was attached to both the outside wall of our townhome and a nearby tree (to keep the tree from leaning too far over into the street) and, finding my balance (sort of) by grasping in one hand a rope that Deborah tied to the iron grating of our second story bedroom window, and using a bed sheet she likewise tied out the window as a sort of sling, I put one leg into the bed sheet (I had to lift my leg above my head to do this, and, once committed, to risk being caught suspended over the water in a split between the tree and the sling) and pulled myself, first one leg, then the other, into the sheet. From there I was able to pull myself into the window. I was almost in when my clothing snagged on a burr or something from the iron grating. Deborah helped me unsnag, and I finally made it inside. Just as I plopped in a wet dirty heap onto our bedroom floor, everyone from our street erupted into applause! Like I said, there was nothing to do all day but hang out the windows and watch dirty diapers, shoes, or other pieces of people's lives float by. So I guess that my little plunge and then climb back were about the most exciting thing these folks had seen all day.
On the third day of the flood, when the waters in the streets were about chest deep, the boy scouts "rescued" Deborah and Ian. It was the biblical Day of Atonement, so I had planned to fast anyway. I was alone most of that day...and I really enjoyed it. Being cooped up with people, even with my wife and son, makes me a bit stir crazy. The end of that day saw Deborah and Ian return to our townhome for the night. Dawn and Matt, however, stayed with friends for the better part of the next week. We began the clean-up that is still ongoing until now.
But I have this to say: If I had to do it all over again, I can think of no person whom I'd rather share such an adventure with than Deborah. Level-headed, practical...and fun during an emergency. She sure was glad to learn that Dawn and Matt were fine and being taken care of. But no panic or whining or anything. It made me praise God even more for the wife He'd privileged me to have.
Okay, enough of that. Now please pray for the following requests RIGHT NOW...if possible:
1) Our visa extensions so we can live and minister in the Philippines.
2) Deborah's working full time as a Middle School teacher (without pay) on behalf of missionary kids from around the world.
3) Dawn's (age 17) spiritual life, personal relationships, and future plans for college etc. Ian's (age 15, but currently operating between a two to three year old level) development, physically, emotionally, socially and, yes, spiritually. Matt's (age 12) spiritual development, friendships and musical outlets (piano/and cello); that he would dedicate all to Jesus Christ.
4) For my (Michael's) teaching ministries.
5) For my main ministry focus in this country, which is still teaching the following to Filipino Christians, who intend to be employed in Israel: (1) Modern Hebrew language, (2) Israeli culture/worldview, (3) How to effectively share the gospel with Jewish people.
6) For the Milliers' ongoing financial needs, as a family and as a ministry.
7) For the peace of Jerusalem (Psa 122:6)! "Even so, come Lord Jesus!" Never forget to pray for that!
Those wishing to financially support the Milliers' ministry may send contributions to:
Church of the Nations
8780 Macon Hwy Athens, GA 30606 USA
Designate it "For the Milliers"
Or for safe online giving, please access this URL and follow the instructions given there (in particular, please remember to designate your gift "MISSIONS - Millier Family"):
https://01.secure.elexio.com/donations.aspx?id=236839&websiteur...
Shalom and Salaam (may it come soon!) to and from Jerusalem,
--Michael
P.S. You can reach us at:
Unit #24, 11th Avenue Riverside Village
Pasig 1608, Philippines
Tel: +63-2-915-1670
Cel: +63-2-927-932-9622
P.P.S. Re: The ex-congressman who shot the Manila Water sign, then denied that he did it...then threatened my life. I wrote out two witness reports for legal proceedings. VIISA Resources, Inc, the company who owns and operates Riverside Executive Townhomes, where we live, is apparently going to file charges against the man. And, on top of that, Riverside Village (in which the townhomes are located, but a separate enterprise) is apparently going to file charges against him. As for me, I just filled out the two witness reports and turned them in. No news beyond that. I hope, if it goes to trial, that it doesn't interfere with our visa renewal process. That would be a bummer. Please pray.
"Only he who cries out for the Jews may sing Gregorian chants."
-- Dietrich Bonhoeffer
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