This is for you

When I look at you, I see how much you can do and how far you can go.

You exude the strength of the young, the freedom of the free. It’s as if there’s always that wind that pushes you from behind, whispering, commanding you to move and spread your wings. How long you have been stuck, I don’t know. Sometimes, I watch how you move, from the way you relax that bottom jaw ‘til you let loose those lips. There’s that smile but there’s also that bewildered sigh. I see it, no matter how you try to hide it. I’ve dealt with that years ago. I recognize the pressure in it – the old familiar feeling that mostly comes with being in early 20s!

I want you to know, however, that there’s nothing wrong with going through the slow motion phase of life. In a world where everyone wants to be the first in everything, life wants to show you the beauty in slow downs. I was 24 when I got my dream job, three years behind my timeline. But it didn’t hurt me like I thought it would when I was your age. In fact, it prepared me for this moment when all there is to life is busyness. The thing is, circumstances, emotions, even people, are not exactly what you think they are when you get to experience them outside your imaginary world.

So don’t believe the crowd when they tell you it’s too late. Because it’s not. It’s not late to pursue another dream. To study again or to get better at what you do. To get your dream job or your dream car. To nail your board exam. It’s not late to be easy on yourself. To be kind to the person that you are, to the phasing you now have.

My dear, I’d love to see you get there, waving, smiling, dancing in victory. But more than the joy of seeing you reach your full potential is the joy of watching you thrive as you make your way up.  

Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. You do not want to reach your peak, ugly, do you? Work hard but know that sometimes, it won’t really get you that far. Not now, at least. So work hard still, but don’t get trapped by your expectations of the future. Your mind will be your biggest battlefield, your catapult to either doom or greatness. Fight for it, win it! And please, don’t ever believe yourself when it insists that your success (money, gadgets and all material things) is your identifier. There’s more to you than that!

I pray that you see the person I am seeing in you – kind, vibrant, persistent, more than able. Where you are now is the best time to enjoy the perks of being young. The world is for your taking, don’t rush. Remember, an anxious heart may accomplish much but a happy and patient heart will definitely experience more! 

Trust me, you were born to soar!

Ulan at kalungkutan

image from Google

Ni hindi ko nga alam kung ano ang dapat kong isulat. Pakiramdam ko, tinatangay ng bawat patak ng ulan yung emosyon na gusto kong palutangin. Alam mo yung para kang nakakulong sa isang bagay o mahika? Nagpupumiglas ang emosyon. Bumabaha na ng halu-halong damdamin pero hindi mo alam eh. Hindi mo alam kung pano kumawala. Magulo. Nakalilito.

Kaya ayaw ko minsan sa ulan. Pakiramdam ko kasi ang lungkot. Sobrang lungkot. Kapag naririnig ko ang karera ng bawat patak, parang sumisigaw yung kaluluwa ko ng ‘sobrang unfair!’ Bakit ang ulan pwedeng bumuhos kung kelan niya gusto? Bakit ang panahon, pwedeng maging masungit kung kelan niya maisipan ito? Bakit ang langit pwedeng mawalan ng bughaw na kulay? Bakit ang ulap, pwede nitong ipagsigawan ang pagod niya sa pamamagitan ng tunog at patak ng ulan?

Bakit nga ba nagiging malungkot ang tao? Bakit kailangang malungkot ng isang taong tulad ko o tulad mo?

Alam ko naman talaga ang sagot sa tanong ko. Ang saklap di ba? Alam ko pero hindi ko alam. Ganon naman yata. Kahit anong lohika ang ibigay ng utak mo, alam na alam mong hahantong ka sa konklusyong may mga bagay talaga sa mundo na walang tiyak na kasagutan. May panahon na parang maayos ito sa pakiramdam.  Pero may mga panahon, katulad ngayon, na alam mong may mali pero hindi mo lang sigurado kung saan. Parang may kulang. Parang may puwang na dapat mapunan.

Ano sa tingin mo?

Ang sakit sa ulo noh?

Pero kung may isang bagay akong patuloy na mamahalin sa bawat kalabog ng mga mumunting patak, iyon ay ang kamalayang kaya ko pa palang makaramdam. Lugkot man ito o tuwa. Pangungulila man o pagkahapo o kapahingahan. Sa lahat ng bagay na naranasan ko nitong mga nagdaang buwan at taon, natatakot akong mamanhid ang puso ko. Sa mga bagay na nakita ng mga mata ko, mga kwentong paulit-ulit na narinig hindi lang ng tenga kundi ng buong kaluluwa ko, natatakot akong pagod ng makiramdam ang puso ko.

Pero hindi. Kaya pa. pwede pa.

Tulad ng unti-unting pagtila ng ulan. Tulad ng pagtigil ng agos ng luha. Maaari na muling punuin ang ulap. Kaya na muling tumanggap ng puso.

Summer Stories: small things with great value

I am going back to Tacloban with kit kat, stick-o, wafers and pringles in my luggage.

It’s always like this during summer – my take home would be chocolates or a pair of sandals or anything under the sun.

Hurray to being my mother’s child!

It is not the items that matter, though. I can buy things on my own and can opt not to go through the hassle of packing them on my luggage. But being child-like once in a while breaks the monotony of working life. I think everyone needs that sometimes.

And so I love it when my mom allows me to sneak some goodies to her shopping basket. I laugh it out when I insist that I am still her child and that she has to buy a thing or two for me. She gives in, of course. That gesture represents many things to me, including the thought that when I am with her, I am simply her child.

I also appreciate it because in a society where a child, after landing a job, is expected to be the one buying things for the family, my mom is simply the opposite. She keeps on giving until she can. She is not someone who tells you to buy me this and that because you have money. My siblings and I grew up with a mindset that we are not obliged to earn a living for the family, that we are not in debt to them because of our education. We were never forced to think like it is our responsibility to give back. They taught us the value of sharing but emphasized that we should give because that’s what we want to do and if we don’t, it won’t be taken against us. Talk about free will.

It was that kind of upbringing that aroused the generosity in us. It was also that kind of upbringing that made us appreciate the pleasure and privilege of both giving and receiving. So the next time you see someone eating kit kat after coming home, you might smile with the story behind. 

Lastly, with the things and schedules that go with growing up, I appreciate the limited time when the family is able to buy things together. To us, it’s luxury.

This is short (our schedules won't meet) compared to the past summers we had together but it's fun just the same :)

To me, it means I can leave again without worrying of what lies ahead because there will always be a summer to look forward to – summer that includes chocolates and wafers and home.

BacktoBasic - It's okay to wrestle

Google Image

Christian life is never an easy life. I’ve been warm and I’ve been cold; I’ve been here and everywhere but I never settled.  To be honest, God’s and mine isn’t the most stable relationship.

These past days, I’ve made a resolve to go back to where relationships normally start- the getting to know you part. To me, it meant going back to Genesis, absorbing every word, down to the most boring parts. In my mind, I’ve known the stories all along but I had to bring myself to keep going back because I thought, maybe a part of me has stopped remembering. My heart needs to be reminded.

I needed to be humble.

Webster dictionary defines pride as inordinate self-esteem.  When it persists, it consumes the heart so easily. It makes you think either so highly of yourself that you become too proud to admit mistakes or too detached you forget you’re part of a bigger circle. Pride makes you callous you no longer know inclusion. And so I love it when I re-read the account where Jacob wrestled with the Lord. Really? After deceiving his own father and taking his brother’s birth right, he still had the nerve to wrestle with God and ask for blessing? I mean, duh! Parang ang kapal naman masyado ng mukha.

But then I came to admire Jacob’s guts to ask for what he wants. There are times when I would hurt God and I would end up guilty. Then the guilt turns to self-condemnation then shame and coldness and eventually pride. It takes a lot of humility to ask from someone you hurt so badly. It takes a lot of fighting with your own self to finally reach out again.

And the man (God) did bless Jacob. I wonder why.

Maybe it wasn’t an easy feat. It was an overnight struggle and I wonder how that looked like. Were there heavy words thrown at each other? Was there shouting or begging? The Bible didn’t tell the in betweens. But to me, one thing is for sure.

I need to be as bold as Jacob.

And when I see bold it means I can argue with God. Psalmist David did. Even Job. God, in the past days, has taught me how to be more open to him – with my shame, my fears, my doubts and even my questions pertaining to his being just. He has been teaching me what I’ve known all along – that He can be my friend, my confidante, my father. He knew I have questions in my heart that I try to repress with the worship songs I sing. But He knows better and He wants me to let everything out and that it won’t lessen His love for me. Only when I become bold with my weaknesses, even to the point of figuratively having the hollow of my thigh dislocated (believe me, it can be too painful), that the Lord could have His way. It’s hard because it requires honesty – the kind of honesty that bares the smallest dirt there is.

I know. These are all easier said than done but I believe that the Lord honors a heart that seeks Him. I’ve realized that I can only do better with my relationships on earth if my heart is settled with my Maker. It’s going to be tough, even tougher than I thought it would be but like Jacob, I’m not letting go ‘til I get God’s yes.

And for whatever it may take, I know it’s a fight worth fighting.

Let's not go for safe

I say it because I want to do it myself. I don’t want  to be afraid, I hate being afraid. I want to be able to say no when I have to and stay committed to my yes when I let it out.

I want to tell a story that includes the crazy, bitter, nerve wrecking, heart wrenching, and adrenaline rushing side of life. I want a heart that’s steady not because it is overly protected but because it has been through worst and it knows too well, that there’s always a way out.

I want to be open to the possibilities of getting hurt, of being bruised even to the point of hitting rock bottom.

I want to bleed not for the sake of bleeding. I want it because what if the things that hurt are actually the things that make up the beautiful?

A mother giving birth to her child.

A caterpillar waiting ‘til it becomes a butterfly.

A gold being refined by fire.

What if the things I am most afraid of are actually the things that will lead me to where my heart belongs? What if the ugly and the messy are prelude to something grand?

I say let’s not go for safe because safe cuddles excessive fear. It shelters doubts and it covers reservations.

Let’s not go for safe because it takes commitment out of the equation. Commitment is courage. It is bold, strong and resolute. No, it is not the whiffle-waffle thing.

I will not go for safe, no matter how my heart trembles just by writing about it because I know that I am stronger than I think I am. And should boldness suck the best of me, (yeah, courage also hurts) I’ll just tap the dirt off my sleeves and try again. That’s life, isn’t it? It is not a one-sided affair with the good. I take it. I can live with it. I’d choose it over safe because safe is dead end.

And if there’s any consolation from welcoming all the risks, it will be the realization that my heart is always tougher than it seems.

He's the man

Let me tell you one of the closest stories in my heart - my dad’s.

This man’s life is a perfect example of 180 degree turn around.  He is, in all sense, a product of unmerited favor, of overflowing grace.

My dad grew up in an unstable family.  His father served in the military, was deployed and had children in Luzon and Mindanao (winner!).  His mother, my Mama Old, was a beautiful woman who later on became an alcoholic.  At an early age, I think daddy knew that it’s going to be a tough life for him so he persevered.  According to him, he wanted to become a lawyer but his father couldn’t afford.  He then went to his uncle who supported him in his studies.  It was there that he met the brat girl (niece of his uncle's wife) who reasons out to avoid washing the dishes, who sticks her tongue out when she has coca-cola while he has nothing, and who will eventually become his wife and my mom (I'll write their love story next year :-).

Soon, Daddy went to Middle East and accepted different jobs so he could save up.  When he had enough, he went back to the country, became a policeman and married my mom.  That’s when his countless tales in the village began.

My father is fondly called Palos in our community.  Palos is the filipino word for freshwater eel, known for its being elusive.  He had several encounters with death but he’s always been spared.  One of his enemies before told us that he was about to secretly shoot my father straight in the head when he passed by our house.  Fortunately, my father took me from my mom (I was still a baby) and so he had to back off.  

Everyone was afraid of him but in a good way.  He was never a smoker, but gee, was he a drunkard!  When I was about 6, my sisters and I would run to the room and pretend we’re asleep every time we hear his car coming.  He never laid a hand on any of us though.  I even remember him mentoring me when I joined a competition.  But it was excessive alcohol that got the best of him.  My mother, who I admire for her patience, was I think a not so happy wife back then.  And you know how such family atmosphere can affect a child? Not good at all.

I was around 9 when things started to change.  Tatay Oscar, a missionary, came to our village and started his ministry.  My father became a church goer but it ended there.  The Lord, however, has his ways.  One night, my father had a dream.  He said he saw himself in heaven and it was a good feeling.  The second night, he dreamt of hell.  Curiosity got him so he asked Tatay Oscar.  That was his life’s defining moment. 

“Maybe the Lord is presenting you two options.  You have to make a choice.”  And he made a good choice.

My master's graduation was the
first school event he attended.
His car was stuck in the mountains when
he was on his way to my college grad.

I wish I could say that everything turned out well after his change of heart.  But no.  At least for me and him.  Maybe because I witnessed how he and my mom fought.  Maybe because when things settle, and the situation changes, you get a space somewhere in your mind, to think of how deprived you were of something.  I was deprived of attention.  My father never attended any recognition program at school. I was always either with my grandparents or with the house helper.  Ask me then who I would rather have in my life and I would choose my grandmother over my parents.

I had that pain with me while growing up.  I eventually transferred in a different school when I was 10, which worsened the gap.  I remember one time, we were on our way home from the church.  He cuddled me and said that I was growing up too fast.  I didn’t respond.  Maybe because I didn’t know how.  I was never used to it, afterall.  He never won an argument with me.  I would slam the door, talk back and lock myself in the room. Medyo bumait na ako ngayon :)

I started reconciling with him (we never talked about it but it just happened) when I went to college.  Imagine.  For how many years, my sisters would kiss him and my mom on the cheek whenever they leave the house while I, the most hostile girl in the world, would not dare do anything.  I was the girl who can’t be moved haha. How suplada can I get, noh? But college years changed that.  Distance was one of the reasons.  When you’re away, you eventually learn to see the good things in your parents. I began to appreciate how he asks the bus driver to drop by the university guard house just to leave chocolates and chips.   Age also played a part.  As you grow older, you realize that your parents are also a day, a month, a year closer to getting those wrinkles and gray hairs.  And it will dawn on you that the time lost on keeping grudges are moments that are forever gone.     

Through the years, I came to appreciate the man behind the person I call dadsung, daddy, baba or whatever name my sisters and I get from telenovelas.  It took time but I must say that more than anything else, I admire his courage to change. When I got my heart broken, my mom said that it was my father’s greatest fear: for his children, all girls, to experience what he did to other women before.  Karma, eh? But I felt otherwise and he also did after some time.  I knew I had my own story to tell and the curse of his past is no match to the mercy of my God.  Daddy's past doesn't define my future but his being a father does influence it.  I remember writing this on his birthday.

“Have you not been strong enough to leave your old ways, I would not have had such an awesome family. Have you not chosen to be a faithful husband, even with the crowd of women around you, I would never have seen and believed in the beauty of marriage. Have you not responded to the call of God, things would have been really different. Have you not been "kengkoy" enough to sit beside me, put your arms around my shoulder, call me darling and neneng, and jokingly ask me on the things that are going on in my life, I wouldn't have had such assurance of the woman that I am. It takes a real man to do all those things daddy, a real man to become a good father, a wonderful husband, an obedient child of God. It takes a real man to be man enough and you did them all. I can never be more proud for being your daughter and day by day, your life reminds me of how God has greatly blessed me.”

My parents are the most generous people I know.  

His decision to change was a decision that impacted our family.  Writing this now, I see how much he’s been through and perhaps, most of those were too much to bear at his age.  But thank God for His grace.  Thank God because He knew that we needed a father.  Daddy eventually left the service and became a pastor (shocked? yes I’m a pastor’s kid haha).  A lot of people were literally surprised, including his drinking classmates but isn’t this the best thing about grace?  All your detours, your brokenness and your foolishness can actually become your biggest and most powerful testimony.  And the enemy who almost shoot him?  He became a pastor, too.

I wouldn’t say that daddy is now perfect. No, he is far from that.  We still argue sometimes and he still has love quarrels (what a term) with mommy.  But you know what follows those arguments?  An out of the blue couple dance (nakakasuya minsan), his famous composition to tease her when they were young (delia, delia tunggaya, naganak sangalabba) and a coffee date just outside the house.  It’s called pure joy.  It’s called family.  It’s called my dad's better story.

Thank you, 2014

“If I stayed here, something inside me would be lost forever—something I couldn't afford to lose. It was like a vague dream, a burning, unfulfilled desire. The kind of dream people have only when they're seventeen.” 

― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Thank you for teaching me to leave, 2014.

For showing me that the word is not just about parting

that it is not forsaking but actually bequeathing

that going is growing

and leaving is giving and living.

Thank you for the 40 plane rides that brought me to a series of coming in and going out. The places I’ve been to had several faces and I am grateful for the hugs, the smiles, the hand shakes and all the stories that amplified the purpose of my existence. 

“We live in a world where bad stories are told, stories that teach us life doesn't mean anything and that humanity has no great purpose. It's a good calling, then, to speak a better story. How brightly a better story shines. How easily the world looks to it in wonder. How grateful we are to hear these stories, and how happy it makes us to repeat them.” 

― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

Thank you for the hi and goodbye. It’s funny how we get a lot of apprehensions before we meet someone and end up crying when the time is up.  Crazy, isn’t it? Just when friendships are forged and everyone is making good memories, time will be up.  Or maybe it’s not the circumstance. I was the crazy one.  There’s a part of me that has always been afraid of change so I had the tendency to hold on to what is steady, the so-so, the just okay.  I knew it wasn’t right but aren’t we all like that sometimes?  We hold on for so long hoping that the world will be in a standstill so that things and people remain as they are.  Yet the clock ticks and each second brings changes that require us or our loved ones to move out.  I won’t say it’s easy because it’s not.  But if there is one thing that I got from a mentor, that is the selflessness in leaving.  Someone must leave so others can grow.  Someone must move forward so others won’t get stuck.

I also learned that in the story of leaving, there’s the one who goes and the one who loosens the grip.  So thank you for the people who let me go when I had to leave.  If the whole of my 26 years was a career trek, then 2014 was my peak.  I owe it to the people who gave me their trust and love and sacrifice.  To them, I give my highest respect.  

I must also admit.  There were words I had to leave unsaid.  Call it play safe or cowardice or anything you want but to me, this is leaving in another context.  There are battles that need to be won by silence.  And if silence means leaving the words afloat to that vast starry sky, then let it be.  Because some things are just beautiful as they are and walking away before they even begin or end is an expression of a greater love.

Finally, hurray to you for uprooting me from home.  Thank you for taking me out of comfort zone so I can come back to it with more love and appreciation. My deployment in the global response was growth in all its sense.  Thank you for the road, the long stretch of rice fields and mountains and seas where most of my resolves were made. You are a prelude to a grand crossover, my affirmation to what is about to come. 

Thank you for teaching me to leave.  I may have sank deep somewhere but you showed me that I couldn’t sink deeper in His grace.  And so the journey goes on.

Thank you for teaching me to leave you with a smile, 2014.  It has been a year of spectacular things. I now close the final curtain and take a bow.

Always in awe,

Joy

Dog stories: Of losing and healing

Vincent shows the place where Budoy came to his rescue.

Vincent’s family didn’t expect that he would want to hold a dog again after he lost his best friend Budoy during Typhoon Haiyan (read story here http://www.rappler.com/move-ph/campaigns/55248-heroesofhaiyan-different-breed-hero).

“I sat beside him, speechless. He was just with me before the typhoon. I survived. He didn’t,” Vincent said a year ago.

Budoy, his dog best friend for six years, drowned after saving Vincent and his mother from the crashing waves of Haiyan.  

For the first four months after Budoy's death, he distanced himself from any pet.  But he was found again - this time, by another dog.

He named him Juan, taken from one of the country’s famous TV shows, Juan dela Cruz.

“Because like Juan deal Cruz, he is a fighter and he is a survivor,” says Vincent.  He still is a man of few words but when he’s with his new-found friend, you see a different side of him.  

Juan is one of the family’s dogs and was only 4-month old when Haiyan struck.  Three days after the typhoon, the family found him in one of the fallen trees - afraid and wouldn’t want to go down.  For days, Juan seemed like a mad dog so the family was left with no choice but to keep him tied up.

“Vincent would just pass by him and Juan would just keep barking.  It was a surprise when one day, we saw Vincent pacifying the dog’s cry,” explains Emily, Vincent's mother.

The connection was instant.  It was as if Vincent was all that Juan needed to calm down.  When Vincent whistles, one can see the special bond between the two. When he raises his hand, Juan would reach for it.  When he sits down, Juan’s head automatically lands on Vincent’s lap.   Today, Juan is free to roam around the village.

I can't believe a year has passed.  The last time I saw Vincent was November 2013.  I got the chance to visit him again this week to hand him the Haiyan commemorative book which includes his story with Budoy.  He kept looking at the page, perhaps remembering his first dog best friend.

“Vincent still doesn’t talk much about Budoy but we are grateful that we can now see him playing with Juan,” says Emily. 

I was never a dog lover and I don’t think I can explain how Vincent feels.  One thing I am sure of though. His friendship with Juan is helping both of them heal from the scars of Haiyan.

And Budoy, wherever he is, will always be a reminder of a dog's love and loyalty.

Kwento at pagtatagpo

Posible kaya?  Hindi ko rin alam pero gusto kong maniwala na posible nga.  Na may tamang panahon.  Na may nakalaang pagkakataon.  Sana ramdam mo rin. Sana naririnig mo rin.  Ituloy natin ang kwento.  Dugtungan natin ang pahina. At sa pagkakataong mahirapan tayong humanap ng tamang salita, magiging sapat ang katahimikan at maging ang kawalan ay durugtong sa ating nasimulan.

Narito lang ako - hanggang sa ating pagtatagpo.

Homesick

Photo from Google Image

Alam mo yung pakiramdam na lahat ng kalsada ay patungo sa kung saan maliban lang sa iyong tahanan? Nakaka-miss din kung minsan. Kahit naman kasi mapadpad ka sa napakagandang lugar, hahanap-hanapin mo pa rin ang pamilyar na daan kung saan naroon ang lahat ng tao at bagay na iyong kinalakhan.

What's worse than lack of love?

While poverty is a sad reality, is there anything more painful than dealing with the emptiness of the heart?

Erlinda, 68, was all smiles when the team arrived to check the ongoing construction of her house, which World Vision provided for. She was at her usual self – bubbly, energetic and full of life.

Seated with her left foot up, her chin rested on her knee and her hands almost hugging her whole body, there was no hint of loneliness in Erlinda. There was a certain glow in her eyes – an inner strength that radiates from her choice to be happy despite the circumstances she was in.

Everyone knew how her makeshift house, located quite a distance from her neighbors, easily leaks during the rainy season. But with all the smiles she can summon, she showed herself strong. Even when she talked about her experience during Yolanda (Haiyan), she laughed a lot. Erlinda’s demeanor only changed when she was asked about her new house.

A grandmother’s pain

“I never expected to have a house like this. I am used to having nothing but myself,” she said suppressing her tears. Erlinda shared that her two children were both killed years ago and that her husband already passed away. Her daughters-in-law took her grandchildren, whom she considered her only source of happiness. She was told they would need to study in another place.

“I saw them once and I invited them in my house. They promised they'd be back. I always look forward to that day. I am excited to see this house not because I will have a good space for myself but because I can hopefully offer a good place for my grandchildren," she said.

"When they hear about my new house, I am sure they will come and visit.”

Of mending and new-found friendship

When she started crying, a loud shout in between the sound of hammers came in: “Stop crying, you will no longer be beautiful. Don’t worry, I admire you!”

The joke came from Jerry. He is one of the carpenters training under the Technical Education and Skills Development Authority (TESDA) and will soon take the Carpentry National Certification (NCII) assessment. He also received shelter tools and materials.

When she heard him, Erlinda laughed. When she started to walk around her future house, Jerry shared her story.

“Her story is not new to our village. Everyone heard of how both her children were killed and how she's been living alone since then. But it’s only when we started working on her house that I came to know her better," Jerry said.

He added: "She talks and laughs a lot now. It's understandable because it’s only now that she has people around her to talk to. She's no longer just a story and I admire her strength. She deserves to be happy.”

Erlinda found not just a house but a company with all the carpenters working to help her. To Jerry, he found not just an opportunity for training or a job but he found deeper respect for a woman, a mother and a grandmother whom he got to know better.

“It is my first time to see her breakdown in tears and in the few days that we were here, I felt like I am his son who wants her heartache to stop. I want to thank World Vision on her behalf for the shelter.”

The support that World Vision and other organizations provide to Yolanda (Haiyan) survivors are more than just assistance. The story of Erlinda and Jerry shows it paves the way to finding a family, a friend and a refuge in time of adversity. Erlinda’s story went beyond a house being constructed to a story of two souls finding friendship and hope.

Bed rest thoughts

Photo from the web

I write it in a point of helplessness: when I can't walk on my own, eat on my own and even bathe by myself. I write it at a time when I am at my most vulnerable point - insecure, pained, wounded.

I've been wanting to write since I was admitted in the hospital but I was on a complete bed rest that even the only way of escape I know was taken from me. Even tonight, I can't call this writing because I'm only typing through my mobile phone.  I am not yet allowed to sit for a long time and the brace on my back limits my movements.  I must admit, it's hard to be grateful in times such as this. It's even harder to say I'm fine when the days ahead suddenly came to a blur. The first night after my operation was the hardest time to deal with myself - the never ending what ifs, if only, what now, why me. I allowed myself to cry, to familiarize the pain, to know  all the fears and all the frustrations I had in my heart. I calmed down after that.

But when you're on bed rest and you can't move around and all you do the whole day after exhausting all the books is wish that time flies a little faster, you begin to go through the same self pity cycle. It's tempting to indulge.  There are many reasons to be sad but I am convinced that there's even more reasons to be grateful.  Tonight, I am making a resolve to bless my Lord.

1. For allowing me to book the Tacloban-Manila, Manila-Roxas City flight.  It was my first time to book that connecting flight because I always fly in to Panay Island via Cebu City.  That first time turned out to be a blessing :)
2. For giving me the strength to make it to Manila. I was already in Tacloban airport when I felt the searing pain from my lower back to my right leg. I couldn't sit longer than two minutes! I was supposed to cancel my flight but I was advised to try enduring the pain 'til I reach Manila and eventually St Lukes. Going up the plane was already a struggle but more so when we were already instructed to fasten our seatbelts. My only prayer then was, "God let me sleep so I won't feel the pain." And I did sleep.
3. For allowing me to live in a country where people are by nature sensitive to the needs of others. From the flight attendant who assisted me when I can no longer carry my things, to the other passengers who made way for me in the shuttle, to the shuttle driver who sensed that I can no longer move and offered his hand, to the airport staff who tried hard to make me laugh while maneuvering my wheel chair and talking to every staff possible to immediately get my luggage, I am grateful :) In a world where there is always chaos, I am glad to find interconnection with the people I'm sharing this life with. There's an overflowing kindness around and it encouraged me to keep believing in the goodness of men :)
4. For the nurses and doctors who attended to my needs. I've always been afraid of injections and even with blood so I was at a loss for words when I was told that I need a surgery. I thank the Lord for giving all these people the wisdom and also the charm haha :D Truth is, if it wasn't for their smiles and reassuring faces, I must have passed out.
5. For preparing us financially. I guess this is always the greatest fear of every patient. But the Lord has been gracious, providing us with every centavo needed to  pay for the bills. He is Jehovah Jireh, my great provider :)
6. For friends. I am not a hospital goer because the smell of it alone already makes me sick. So yes, I know nothing even about my health card. From my bosses who kept monitoring me until I was able to board the plane, to all colleagues who visited me in the hospital, gave me balloons and cards and foods and funny photos, to those who sent encouragement and love, to those who kept texting and calling even when I cannot answer, gosh! I've never felt more loved! Friends, I believe, are more than what we think they are when we're all just having fun.  This season made me value friendship even more. I also thank God for the people who understood that my situation is not ok and that there's nothing wrong in shedding a tear about it - it made me more human :)
7. For the gift of family. My sisters were with me when I was crying so bad and yeah, they just laughed at me haha. I love how I can just be at my weakest when I'm with them. My mom combed my hair like I was a little girl while my dad was very watchful with my every move.  I had the whole gang in my hospital room and we would pig out every night like what we do when everybody is at home.  When I was discharged from the hospital, my sisters were more strict than my nurses - they won't even allow me to go out of bed! 
8. For my life. For every part of my body.  For every breath I breathe and for every waking moment.  Life goes with so much pain but life also goes with so much beauty.  My every morning is a miracle, my every minute is a gift.  There were times, actually a lot of times when I took life for granted but this very season reminds me of how I need to take care of my body.  I can question God and tell Him that He didn't protect me but this body is mine and God is not responsible for the times I abused it. I can only be grateful now.  I was told to rest for two weeks and that I still cannot travel for a month so I guess, this is my time to really rest.
9. For the vision.  I thank the Lord because He gave me a vision and this what motivates me now to keep going.  I look forward to every single day because it only means that I am getting closer to that time when the Doctor will tell me that it's okay to do fieldwork again. I guess, when a person finds her purpose in life, things just fall into place because that purpose will bring meaning even to all the things that do not seem to make sense.

It's the third day of my house arrest (for the lack of a better term) and everyday, I struggle with boredom and impatience.  It's not easy but I choose to trust and wait on Him.  I pray that the Lord will continue to open my heart so I can see far beyond what the natural eyes can see. 

You won my heart

You won my heart.

When your love became more stubborn than I am. When you chose to chase me instead of letting me be. I've been hearing your voice all around. It irritated me at times because it felt like having you around is limiting.  I can’t breathe.  I can’t do what I want.

But when I asked for my time alone, your silence captivated me.  And you won my heart.

Because you gave me space to decide out of love and not out of anything superficial. I do not know how you do it but through the years, I've learned that your silence is sometimes your expression of a deeper love. Overwhelmed, I still cry about it sometimes.

And though I want to say that ours has been a perfect love, I can't. It was and still is a love-hate relationship. The epic statement: no, it's not you, it's me.

Yeah, it's me. I am the one always hating. But it pains me, too. Because I also want to love you.  To give you my all.  But I am too selfish, too rotten inside. The pain, I guess, comes from the guilt that I can never love you as much as you love me. I even cringe at the thought that someone like you is willing to love someone as undeserving as me.  I know.  I still need to be more accepting of grace.

But you keep winning my heart

Because  your love doesn't bribe.  While it can never be bent by my callousness, it also won't bow down on my childish deeds.  Your love is both gentle and firm.  It knows when to say yes and when to say no without backing down.

There were times, a lot of times when I wanted you to answer. To say even just a word. I wanted you to move. To do something. I wanted you to work on my favor.  I wanted you to align your plans with mine. I always grumble. I wrestle. I fight. I escape.

But you cannot be moved.  You always know better.  And so your love can take an expression I don’t think I can ever understand.  It takes even the form of a heartbreaking NO. That hurts! But at the end of the day, the crossroads and the detours would just bounce me back to you.

I wish I can love you as much. But you never demanded for anything in return. Yours is never an imposed love. Yours is a love that keeps giving; a love that is generous with time and is never in a hurry.

I am amazed with how long your love can wait.  That is why you won my heart.
And you try to win it every day.
I don’t understand.

Why do you love me this much?

So now I'm saying yes.
Yes to all that you are
- even when I cannot understand
- even when it doesn't seem to make sense
- even if it is hard
- even if it is painful

And like how I can’t understand how your love gives me this glow, and peace and hope and overflowing joy, I will say yes to trusting you even when I cannot see you. When I see the stars crowding the sky, I will know it's you.  When the wind gently kisses my skin, I will know it's you. Because you taught me that love is possible even without seeing. It is something that wraps the heart and teaches it to be patient – until that day when love will be as visible as the morning sun.  Until then, my heart will be content in looking at the sky.  Because somewhere, it that vast horizon, I know you're there.  

I'm saying yes because you loved me even before I decided to love you back. And though I was never there, I know you were thinking of me when you were on that cross, hanging with a nail-pierced hand, deciding to love me with all my pains, guilt and shame.  I was captured by a freeing love.

I'm saying yes because time and again, your love exceeded the stubbornness of my heart. 

You just don't give up, do you?

And that is probably why you won my heart.  And even if my love can never equal yours, let me still tell you this:

P.S. I was on my way home last night when I heard this song from Don Moen, hence the inspiration to write this blog.
Amazing love, indeed!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-tbEN7lYGU

When a part of you is gone

photo from the web

I know.  You are happy now.  Everything is going according to plan. You love the people you are with.  You love the things that now surround you.

But how much of the old you have you sacrificed for the new you?

Maybe you remember it well.  You used to write.  You even kept a journal.  You used to go to a place where you get an inspiration and like how the night and the dawn predictably come in a day, you never missed the chance to write your thoughts.

 Then something came up. Perhaps a new job? A new love?

You barely write since then.

***

And I heard you used to love adventure.  You go from one place to another.  You travel.  You feel refreshed every time you are face-to-face with creation.  The trek fuels your spirit; the peak enriches your soul.  Until you got your dream job.  You are happy of course.  But you wanted to prove that you can do better.  Overtime.  Overtime.  Overtime. And you assumed that perhaps, after proving yourself, you can do it again.  Then promotion.  You didn’t stop.  You wanted more. 

Your trek has become as short distance as your home to your workplace.  Your peak has become your promotion.

***

Do you also remember how determined you were years ago?  You used to be a dreamer, a visionary.  You saw yourself landing in your dream job.  You wanted to go abroad.  You wanted to do something different for your country.  You told yourself that you will study really hard; that you will endure the long nights of working on your assignments and on algebra just to pass your exams.

 Then one day, just like in a fairy tale, the love of your life came.  He has his own dreams.  He has his own priorities.  But you love him.  And you want the relationship to last. Come what may, it should last.   So his dreams and his priorities became yours.  You said, what would you do with that career you’ve been working for when in the end, all you wanted is to be with this man. 

You forgot your dreams – for yourself, for the people who have supported you all the way. 

***

And oh, can you still see yourself when you were younger?  There was never a day in forever that you didn’t look at yourself in the mirror.  You believed that while physical appearance doesn’t define beauty, it is still your responsibility to take care of yourself.  You used to take care of your hair.  You planned for your clothes.  They weren’t as beautiful as those of celebrities but they were good enough. 

Then you got married.  And had children.  You wake up, cook for breakfast, attend to the kids, clean the house, cook again, get the kids from school, cook, teach the kids on their assignments. 

You never had time for yourself.  You wear whatever is available. 

But you tell me you are happy.

If you are in front a mirror now, would you take time to look at yourself? 

Have you missed that part of you which you gave away with time?

Don’t you miss yourself?

Then, tell me.  Honestly, how happy are you?  With all the glamour, the success, the love life, the children, where is the ‘you’ that you used to love and nurture?  Where is the ‘you’ that existed even before everything and everyone else came in? 

I won’t say much this time.  Just this one: please, love yourself.  It is never wrong.  It is never selfish.

Para sa OTSO

     

          Enrile girls.

                    

                    Nerds.

Boring.
                       

                     KJ.

Haha. Ganyan ba talaga tayo non? Parang oo na hindi. Kumbaga 50-50 lang.

50-50 sa Enrile girls dahil apat lang naman sa atin ang talagang nakatira ron. Kumpleto lang ang barkada kapag may pyesta, bertdey, kunwa-kunwariang group study at pag-spy sa boylet ni Silvina haha.

Nerds. Hindi rin. Iyong tipong may suot na glasses, mahabang skirt, libro lagi ang dala, kapag break time, libro pa rin ang binabasa. Iyong natapos ang apat na taon at hindi ka man lang naalis sa pagiging classroom officer. Hindi kaya! Nakiki-basa rin naman tayo non sa pocketbooks ni Ate Benelyn! Eto pa, kung akala nila ay puro Creative Writing class assignments lang ang sinusulat naming ni Chie, siyempre mali! Natapos ang 3rd year na halos mapuno ang isang notebook naming para sa chikibels na tulang Before I Let You Go, Somewhere Down the Road. Pamilyar ba? Oo, nahugot ang mga yan sa mga senting kanta haha.

Boring. Errr!!!!!! Sa pamantayan ng mga bulakbol, malamang oo. Pero sa pamantayan ng mga responsableng mag-aaral (ahem ahem), of course not haha. Pero sige, iisa-isahin natin ang boring side:

1. Iyong may prescribed PE short na above the knee, bumili ng sariling yellow short at pinaputulan ng around an inch below the knee- yeah, the manang style!

2. Iyong JS Prom, nagbunutan kung sino ang sasama ng Manila (dahil libre ang sasakyan) para bumili ng damit para sa sinasabi nilang pinaka-exciting part ng high school life. Pumwesto sa likod ng pick up, nahilo sa Viscaya at ang ending sa dress hunting ay shimmering glittering na may slit at may kasama pang shawl. At ang kulay? Dark blue at violet na nung sinamahan ng make up, yay!! Disaster to the nth level. Pero siyempre, nung time na yon, feel na feel pa natin. May group picture nga na naka side view ang lahat tapos ang kamay ay naka-pwesto na parang iyong sa choir. I repeat. Nang time na'yan, maganda tayo. Yiiii!!!!!!!!!! Hahaha

3. Iyong sawang-sawa na ang canteen staff dahil wala na tayong ibang pinupuntahan for lunch. Kunwa-kunwariang bumibili ng candy para lang makakuha ng table. Minsan, nakasabay natin si crush. Napilitan akong bumili ng kanin at ulam dahil ang baon ko nang araw na ‘yon ay adobong sitaw. Kalerki!

4. Iyong snacks time, di papansinin ang 8oz coke kundi papatusin ang litro, kukuha ng walong supot (na-miss ko to) tas punta sa hotdog stand na may footlong para divided into 4 ang isa, sakto na ang dalawa! O di ba?Busog na, tipid pa!

But we weren't at all boring.

1. Nagpapaalam din naman tayo para sa group study pero ang punta ay sa pyesta. Nagpunta nga tayo ng perya, sumakay sa ferris wheel at ang inabot ay sakit sa ulo at pagsusuka.

2. Iyong tumakas sa intrams para lang maligo sa ilog at take note, naligo sa ilog na ang suot ay pajama – soo manang. Pag-uwi, ingat na ingat na wag dumikit ang puwet sa upuan ng tricycle dahil paniguradong mababasa ang palda. Alam na siguro kung bakit - basa ang _____. :D

3. Iyong akala ng lahat, wala tayong love life pero meron, meron meron!!!!!!!!!!! Hindi nga lang official hahaha

4. Iyong nauso ang textmate dahil sa unlitxt na yan at nauso ang cheap na sim card na may free load at naging suki tayo ng swap… Pinaka-maraming textmate si Honey!

5. Iyong kunwaring magsi-CR sa SPA building pero ang totoo ay gusto lang silipin ang crush (hindi ako yon!)

Oh well, after 9 years, marami ang nagbago.

“Well my music was different in high school; I was singing about love—you know, things I don't care about anymore.”

Charot lang haha.  Medyo nabawasan ang manang look (in fairness naman), hindi na tayo naghahati-hati sa sandwich, hindi na rin masyadong patok sa’tin ang unli. Iyong may love life non, sila na ang wala ngayon (sino kaya yon haha) tas yung akala mo tomboy non, aba e wagas kung pumorma ngayon.

Ang kulot, umunat. Ang unat, nagpakulot. Oh well, the ironies of life. May kanya-kanya na rin tayong kwento sa career, sa pamilya, etcetera, etcetera. Iba na ang usapan ngayon: kung noon ay magbabayad ng tumataginting na tatlumpong libo ang unang-mag-aasawa, ngayon ay highly recommended (with matching premyo) na ang pagkakaroon ng lovelife.

Hay! High school life oh my high school life (sabay left and right ang kumpas ng ulo).

Pero sa lahat ng pagbabagong ito, may isang natirang totoo:

Ang OTSO: Kahit sa maraming taon na di tayo laging nagkikita, buong-buo pa rin ang barkada. Dumarami lang siguro ang napaguusapan at lumalawak lang ang mundong ating ginagalawan. Pero ganon pa rin. Walang nagbago.  May aso't pusa (Keith at Raisa?), may tine-text pa rin ng tatay (Joyce?), may seksi pa rin (ako ba 'to? haha)... ahh basta. 

Sa lahat ng ito, kasamang lumalalim at lumalawak ang pagkakaibigang nabuo nung High School years and for that, I am most grateful. Dalaga na tayo!!!! Hahaha…

PRESENTING OTSO VERSION 2.0!!

P.S. darating ang araw at mabubuo rin sa picture ang walo. Baka nga di na lang walo dahil that time, ahemmm..meron ng mga chikitings!! so help us, God haha :)