The Rock

Jesus is the Rock of our salvation, and all Christians will testify to this truth. However, there is also a thing such as a rock of destruction, as will be demonstrated in this story.

 This particular rock was not really a large one that was situated in a treacherous stretch of white water rapids near the mountain village of Ugyaban by the Davao River . There is no question about the fact that when God created this world and placed this rock in the river, he already predestined that two men in the distant future would be touched and strengthened greatly in their faith with the aid of this particular rock. On this fateful day four bamboo rafts carrying volunteers to the Tribal Mission Foundation International Inc., on an 8-day medical and church building mission to the villages along the river were negotiating the numerous rapids that dot this river.

 On the first raft were the raftman, Pastor Dodong – an experienced native rafter of this river, and seven passengers, which included Katie and Rex [both American volunteers], Bheng, Jhie, Pastor Ban, this writer and Isaac [a rooster scheduled to be sacrificed for the next meal]. This raft was the leader-raft of the convoy considering that its raftman was the most experienced of all the four. Based on all the rapids that the rafters passed on this trip, this particular one was steep and wild and so all on board were tense and ready as the raft started its descent. At this point no amount of steering would change its course and raft and its riders were at the mercy of the angry river.

 Suddenly a rock that was lying underneath the foaming and crashing water materialized and without warning the raft banged smack into it sending the lead raftman plunging out ahead into the white water. The rushing water now pushed the raft to a precarious perch threatening to spill everything on board into the swirling froth. The raft splintered but somehow the bamboos stayed together, although the cargo started falling off and were swept away including a camera belonging to Rex. It was a medium-sized camera and it was inside a carrying case enclosed in a Septic bag and another striped red and white plastic bag.

 Rex had his hands firmly gripping the unstable and disintegrating bamboo raft, but his eyes were following the descent of the bag that held his precious camera and all the pictures of the past week, until it was swept through another set of rapids, down the bend and out of sight. Someone tried to run after it to see if it would get caught by a rock, but returned after a while empty-handed. The remaining three rafts took on the rapids but this time steered clear off the submerged destroyer rock and stopped by the bank below. A rope was secured to the marooned raft and one by one the survivors were led to the safety of the riverbank.

 It took about an hour to repair the raft, which now could only take 4 persons on board. While the repair was being done this writer distanced himself from the group and found a shady tree where he began praying to God. To him the tragedy at the rapids was not really life-threatening considering that as a growing boy his family used to live by a river with a wilder temperament, and he and his friends considered the river as part of their playground. But now as a three year old ‘spiritual child’ he was intrigued by the turn of events in the trip and so he had to turn to God for some answers and explanation regarding the tragedy.

 It was then that he realized that God wanted to reveal something to him and to use this event to strengthen his faith. God made him realize that someone on the raft needed spiritual awakening, and that God also wanted him to witness a miracle that would make his faith grow by leaps and bounds. God was saying that floating a heavy axe-head in the Old Testament era was no big deal, and that floating a lighter camera in modern day was comparably an easier miracle.

 The ‘injured’ raft was reloaded and the trip resumed. All eyes were now scanning the rocks and the riverbank for the camera, and all the natives by the river were asked about seeing a plastic bag with a camera, and their answers were negative. Each swirling bend and each crashing rapid sank their hopes about finding the camera lower and lower. The river got deeper and faster and everyone was telling Rex that he would no longer see his camera again. That was everyone except this writer.

 After about a set of about five or six angry rocky rapids and many swirly and whirlpool bends the occupants of the first raft saw a group of natives picnicking on the bank and asked them the same well-worn question about the camera, and they got the equally well-repeated negative answer. That was when this writer spotted the red and white plastic bag that was just a couple of meters beside the natives, half submerged in the water. He shouted, “There’s the camera,” and one native quickly ran to check it out.

 It was Rex’s camera alright inside the now open Septic, swimming in the water inside its case. The Septic waterproofing mechanism was no match for the many rocks and the crashing water plus the great distance that it was carried from the site of the tragedy. At first glance anyone would say the digital camera was doomed and that Rex would have no use for it anymore. But this writer knew that when God made a miracle it would be complete and thorough, and nothing short of his perfect handiwork.

 It was a miracle that the camera survived banging the rocks and the crushing water, and that it floated in spite of its weight and its being soaked. To top it all Rex had his camera functioning the rest of the trip while saving all the shots that he had taken.

 That was really something for Rex, but unknown to him and to many in the group something greater happened that day. One was the awakening for the lead raftman, Pastor Dodong. Some time even before the team arrived in his territory Pastor Dodong had decided and verbalized to his wife that he was quitting the ministry. He was discouraged by his sloppy finances and by the slow pace of the progress that the gospel was making in his area, and he thought that God was not blessing him enough. He decided that this would be the last raft trip that he would make with the Tribal Mission, although he never mentioned it to anyone in the team before the tragedy.

 Another wonderful thing also happened for this writer. Two months before this fateful trip he was terminated from a job that he had held for 17 years as the Medical Director of the Strahle Medical Clinic and Hospital, which is owned and operated by the Seventh-day Adventist Church. Three years prior to his termination God led him through the bible and he became a born again Christian. This decision was a great insult and tragedy for the church that his father was a pioneer and an ordained minister of. 

 After three years of persecuting him the SDA church finally found the right alibi and kicked him out. His wife, the HRD of the same company also lost her job, and two fruitless months of trying to find a paying job was eating at his faith. With his eyes on his dwindling bank account he was greatly in need of an act of God to tell him to stop looking at himself and keep focused on his faithful and providing creator.

 God had to use a rock in the Davao River to bring two men to their senses. It took a rock under the swirling current and crashing water in a remote mountain river to teach a lesson of service, devotion and faith in God. It needed an insignificant yet destructive rock in the river to point these two men to the Great Rock – Jesus, the author and finisher of their faith.