Morning Has Broken

Twist

Turn

She won’t come back

The sun is fighting

To un-seat the moon

Blink

Open

Your eyes to the tune

Your ears don’t hear

The music in the room

Stop

Still

The ache in your heart

Bid goodbye to your dream

I’ll take it

Day 12: Five Guys You Find Attractive

Does it have to be JUST 5?

Ok, let me limit my list then to celebrities. And, my consideration in this list are mainly, physical characteristics.

1. Michael Jordan
Need I say more? He has that 'air' in the court that spells confidence, something that he can back up with his skills. And, well, the crease in his face when he smiles? Irresistible!

2. Bernard Palanca
He is the only local actor that makes me cry e-v-e-r-y-t-i-m-e! He is elusive. That's why I find him more attractive. He has this 'bad boy' look but oozes chivalry. Once, I wrote in my journal about him. That was the time when he had this character called Anilov in a soap opera.

3. Jude Law
"The Holiday" explains why I find him attractive. He was a 'weep-er'! I dont care about the scandals he's been in. He just looks awesome!

4. Patrick Dempsey
The way his eyes grow small when hit by light...*faint*

5. Anfernee Hardaway
I need not explain. :)

Day 11 - My Family

I wrote about how I appreciate the way our parents raised us. We are not a perfect family, as no one is. But it sure is a Home!

My father is very headstrong. He likes to win in arguments. That's why we are the last two people who are always left at the dinner table. Haha!

My mother is, well, the kind of mother as mother is defined. That and so much more. She likes to dip her fingers in all our issues. She likes to know everything that is happening to us. She like to give her unsolicited opinions and advises. It was only lately that we became really close. That's when I learned to accept her for her 'motherly' ways and concede that I can't run my life like 'i know it all'. Truth is, mothers still know best. ;)

Jem, the one in blue, is my sister next to me. She is 4 years younger than I am. She's terribly funny. No day is dull when you are with her.

Jez, (far right) is our youngest. She is choleric-melancholic. She likes routine and order. Her compassion is welling up.

And then, there's me. :D

Day 10 - My Ten Songs

Ten songs that randomly played on my player. Surprisingly, a lot of them are from way, way back.

> The wood song - Indigo Girls

> One more night - stephen bishop

> Have you ever - Brandy

> Worth it - Francesca Batistelli

> Swept Away - Christopher Cross

> White Lights - Deas Vail

> Never Letting go - Stephen Bishop

> Popparazzi - Switchfoot

> I love You Ahi AMor - Mike Francis

>Tonight I give In - Angela Bofill

I leave you with a video from Deas Vail called Shoreline. Reminds me a lot of my very special friend.

Day 9 - Is Education Important to You

Education is important to me. But, getting a degree is not.

Education involves processes that require a certain amount of discipline. I think, this combination is what really contributes to learning. Because this is the way I define education, I give high regard to learning facilitated by an institution. This is not to say that I discount the fact that so much is also learned outside of it.

I'd like to share with you what I wrote in my other blog about education - My Free Education.

Day 8: Eat it!!!

RESUMING.

Am back to do the blogging challenge. It says 30-day, right? Not exactly 30 consecutive days. Hehe! so, I'd continue from here on my challenge. And what better topic to pick-up where I left off than: "WHAT I ATE TODAY".

I am a food fan. As long as my taste buds are working, I think that I should enjoy food. I remember the first time I got rewarded for topping an exam. I was 7 and I just topped the entrance exam for the elementary school of a state university. I didnt know what that meant or what of a big deal that was. All I understood was, I must have done something great because my father came home and surprised me with a pint of Ice Cream, wrapped in news paper.

That was the beginning of my love affair with Ice Cream. Until today, Ice Cream takes that spot in my most treasured moments. Be in Celebration or Frustration.

And yes, Coffee Crumble always, always clears out the clouds!

But for today, no Ice Cream.

Dinner: Blue Marlin with Vegetables. Locally called, "Tinola". Basically, boiled fish with little seasoning and some greens. My parents love to eat this because its good for the health. I, however, could not understand why they love such a bland dish. But, I live in my parents' house and we eat whatever is set on the table. Period. (Eaten with rice, of course!)

Mid-Afternoon: Pepperoni Pizza. A local take-out makes the best pizza in town. :)

Breakfast: Rice and Sun-dried Fish. "Lamayo" is fresh fish, halved and seasoned with salt then left for a few days to dry under the sun. It is then fried to make up the best breakfast ensemble I can ever imagine: Rice, Lamayo and Spicy Vinegar with a cup of Coffee. You might notice the remote control beside my breakfast spread. Yes, I watch TV while taking breakfast. Usually, everyone is gone when I wake so I eat alone. However, I must put to note that BREAKFAST is my favorite meal of the day. To share it with someone, someday, won't be too much of a prayer, right? hehehe!

Enjoy eating!!!

WEEK-BREAK

I will go on a week break. I'm attending a conference in Singapore and would like to have my mind focused on it. :)

See yah!

Day 7 - Pet Peeves

This is hard.

I find identifying Pet Peeves hard because usually, you don't notice them. I know I get annoyed many times about many things but I dont usually catch myself annoyed (I always feels like things are normal...hahaha) not until my sister tells me that I am. Or...when she raises her voice at me for raising my voice at someone, or at her (most times..haha) about something that irritates me.

So, I took this very quiet (and painful) introspection about my pet peeves:

1. Open Cabinets. I don't like seeing the cabinets being left open. There were times when my sister would get something from the closet, leave it open and then goes back to her desk to work. I would have that strange feeling that the closet would swallow me whole. hahaha!
2. Guys trying hard to act like a guy. Well, all the more they tell me that they're gay. If you are a guy, you don't have to prove to me that you are. You just be.
3. Extreme Introverts. I get annoyed with silent kids. It so tiring to talk to them. I get more annoyed by silent people. I feel like the burden to start the conversation would always be on me. (Btw, I am working on this one. I am with kids most times and more and more quiet people are drawn to me. It has now become a responsibility.hehehe!)
4. Chipped-off Nail Polish. Ugh! I even annoy myself when I put on nail polish and then it chips off. That is why, I keep a bottle of nail polish remover handy.

I can only remember four.

Enjoy your day!!!

Day 6 - Thankful for Mainstream Music

Jewel. If not for mainstreaming, her music would have not reached my little island almost 15 years ago when she released her first album. I am a bit choosy when it comes to music. I enjoy only a few genres. Recently, a friend who is into the music of the 80s hypnotized me. I particularly love Mike Francis, whose effort to go mainstream didnt go well (i think!).

But to consider the latest pop artists? Ugh!

Am a 'lyricist'. I get lost somewhere when I listen to their songs. Empty statements! Just plain combination of words. I won't even start mentioning examples.

So, yeah, I appreciate mainstream music but I believe there are some artists out there, whose music are just bouncing off on a 4-cornered studio that can outbeat most of these popular ones!

Note: Image from here.

Day 5 - Things You Want to Say to an Ex

Dear ****,

I think you've already heard everything from me. You may forget all the things I've said, but please, choose to remember this : "We may try everything else, but God knows, we are best at being friends!"

I said that on your birthday, right?

Love.

Day 4 - Bullet Your "Not-so-regular" Day

Today is August 24, 2011, a Wednesday. Here's what happened:

• 7.45 ++ Woke up at the sound of iron hitting concrete. There is a long-due renovation going on in the house.

• 8.00 Coffee and Bible: I read Numbers 4. I don't know NOW but someday I will understand why I needed to read it.
  

• 8.30++ Checked mails and did a quick Facebook round

• 9.00++ Wrote a speech for a friend. I volunteered to be the ghost writer for my friend who was to deliver a message on the opening of Phil. Normal University's Foundation week. We were classmates during our freshman year. The speech title was "Talents: Motivate. Multipy. Magnify"
• 

• 12:00 Lunch. Mother was in a very agitated mood. Some important documents were missing. Her superior was out of town. My dad is her superior thus, the agitation.

• 1.30++ Wrote the Introduction to my friend who was going to deliver the speech I just mentioned a while ago. My sister who takes units in that Uni was assigned to introduce him. She asked me to write an introduction. So, you see the oddity of this situation? I wrote the introduction to the speaker who was to deliver the speech I wrote. hahaha!

• 2.45++ Quick Nap

• 3.15++ Reading

• 4.00 Went to Philippine Normal University (PNU)for the Opening Ceremonies of the 43rd Foundation Week. Both speakers to whom I served as ghost writers were awesome. The Freshmen students performed a dance. SPECTACULAR!!! They also had the "Sinugba Festival" where evryone can just join in and EAT!!!

• 9.00 Left PNU, passed by the 24-hour pharmacy to get some anti-histamines. I ate a stick of grilled Isaw (chicken intestines).

• 9.20. Home. Just in time to answer my aunt's Skype call from the U.S. Discussions of wedding details, reservations and plane ticket bookings took place.

• 10.36 Started writing this.

This is not my regular day. In fact, with the life I live now, I cant call any day 'regular'. I have a crazy irregular sked - the price i pay for calling myself FREELANCER!!! haha!

• 11.06 Still have a presentation to prepare for. Will be presenting BLESS to a group of pastors tomorrow. Tomorrow is another crazy packed day!!!

Day 3 - A Book that I...Just a book!

I am a book lover. I have read many books and feel it would be unfair to put just one here. Of course, there is no dispute that the Bible is THE ultimate book of all time. It is the only book that has the power to change man. I am a student of Paul. His letters are very honest but compassionate, correcting and encouraging at the same time.

For this post, I decided to write about the book I am currently reading: The Talmud and the Internet by Jonathan Rosen. I bought it from a second-hand bookstore a few months ago. I cant wait to finish it ONLY because I don't want to have a book in my rack that is only half-read. Entertainment is my sole purpose of reading. Even the word entertaining is debatable.

I am neither a Jew nor an internet buff but I have found his work intruiging; making analogies and comparisons. This book came up out of his personal retrospection triggered by the death of his Jewish grand mother. Iam half way through the book.

If I would finish this and completely forget about it, there's only one this I would never forget - that he wrote these lines as he talked about Odyssey (this was dues to his contemplation of the death of his grand mother and, well, the Internet) :

"Odysseus fruitlessly embracing his phantom mother may well be a metaphor for cyberspace, too, a realm of intimate encounters where what we long for always manages in the end to elude our grasp. " pp.55-56

Again, I'm neither a Jew nor an Internet buff, nor am I Greek Mythology fan!!

But, come to think about what he said of the Internet. "a realm of intimate encounters where what we long for always manages in the end to elude our grasp"

True, right?

*note: Late post.

Day 2 - Something You Feel Strongly About

RESPONSIBLE Parenthood!

I think there is redundancy in that phrase. I believe that you can not be called a parent if you are not responsible. However, in this generation, I have witnessed painted pains because some people just enjoyed the baby-making part and didn't want to have anything to do with child-rearing.

Lately, I conducted a workshop on Storytelling to Compassion teachers and volunteers. I've always been passionate about Storytelling and I make it my mission to spread the secrets of the craft, tell unforgettable stories and make other people yearn to be storytellers themselves. That's my answer to the call in Romans 10:17 "So then faith comes by hearing...". This way we can saturate this world with the wonderful story of salvation. That is my main goal.

In addition to that, I see that by storytelling we train our kids to be responsible. See, storytelling (with minimal or no props) gets their minds working; they imagine, analyze, decide. That is how we want our kids to be when they grow up - men and women who will be creative enough to find solutions, to analyze situations and then decide and take ownership of the decision. When we raise them that way, that's responsible parenthood.

I am not a parent but I desire to be one someday. I don't have kids but i have worked with kids for many years. I discovered that parenthood, though it is a lot of work, is actually just mastering the simple stuff that make up the bigger stuff. Like, if I want my kids to grow up organized, I just need to let them be comfortable with following systems and procedures.

When coming in from school, (1) take off your shoes (2) put them on the rack (3) put soiled socks in the bin. A three-step system is not complicated but once they mastered it, you can build on it the 'big' chunks of your daily work that usually stresses you. That is why again, I have considered storytelling as essential. It is a fun, no stress activity, yet the benefits are long term. That's IF, you take your storytelling session seriously.

Maybe I'm idealistic. Or maybe, I have just been around people who sunk at parenthood. Or maybe, I just appreciated very much the way our parents raised us (3 girls). No, we didnt always have a clean living room, or bedroom. Yes, we did pressure our parents to 'save' us because we needed to submit a dollhouse project the NEXT DAY!!! But, NO, we never tiptoed around the house, we never mixed fresh school uniforms with sweaty PE shirts and we never heard our parents sigh when we asked them questions. Yes, my mother is a worrier and complains a lot but in all her complaining, not one bit did we hint that it was about raising us, THREE Girls. No, not even a hint of worry that we'd come home pregnant! (By God's grace, no one has and will remain that way!)

And here's what I think are the essentials to parenthood:

1. A deep commitment to Christ - No order is possible without Him at the center

2. A deep commitment to each other - No one should bail out

3. A deep commitment to joy - No one should say it is missing

Those three things are core to parenthood. The rest just stems from them. Being a parent is a gift. I don't think we cannot refuse that gift when given to us. So, "Let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up." Galatians 6:9 (NLT)

Day 1 - Five Ways to Win Your Heart

So, let my day ONE be today!!!

My closest cousin tags me gullible. In that light, I must say I have been easy to win over. However, through time, I've had experiences that somehow shaped the way I think and influenced my preferences. I'm working with different groups of people and most times, warring ideas get to me. through time, I have learned the art of listening and writing down the pros and cons before making my own decision about a matter or before I give in to a request or an idea. So, as regards work and ideas, there are many ways to win me!

However, when it comes to Matters of the Heart, my preferences have not changed over the years. There are a few things that, when present in a guy, just makes my heart giggle.

1. Music. If he plays the guitar or the piano or can sing, he can put me to sleep.

2. Conversation. If a guy can spend time talking with me for hours...or maybe until 3 am, then I know Insomnia would no longer be a problem.

3. Kids. If a guy is good with kids, I assume he can also be patient with me.

4. Mother. If a guy spends time with his mother, still does errands for her despite the fact that he is annoyed, then, he can put up with me.

5. Truth. If a guy speaks the truth all the time, then I wouldn't have to worry about being cheated.

I know, I know..my reasons sound shallow. Hehe! The fact is that:

>Music is a wonderful thing. I enjoy music very much. And I would like to be with someone who also enjoys it. I'd love to sit down on lazy Saturdays and just sing out. There are so many things I would love to sing about. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he can sing them with me?

>Conversations are life-support. It is how you get to know what the other thinks therefore, eliminating the confusions ASSUMPTIONS bring. For as long as I lived in my parents house, I woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of the two of them talking just about everything. And as a small child, waking up to that was comfort. It still is. :)

>Kids reveal what you are made of. You can not fool them. You may play tricks but they will soon find out the sincerity of your heart. I'd love to be with a man who can be himself with kids.

>Mothers are owners of their sons. Sons who resent that would rather be away than home. On the other hand, any son who understand that kind of establishment (even with discomfort most times) would NOT resist belonging to somebody. I'd love to be with a man who is secure at the fact that someone already owns his heart ;)

>Truth is indispensable. And no man can value truth without first finding the true value of the Author of Truth. I'd love to be with a man who embraces truth because the Holy Spirit has taken over him, a man who would correct me on the basis of the Word of God, and would love me and stay by me because he remains true to the words that come out of his mouth.

Win me over!!!

*note: Image from here: Click this!

The 30-Day Blogging Challenge

Out of my earnest desire to keep this blog 'moving', I have decided to take on the 30-Day Blogging Challenge. I see many bloggers have done it and are still on it and thought it would be fun. Besides, it would be a good way to dust off my writing skills.

So, here's hoping I could scribble down everyday so i could stand up to the challenge! EXCITED!!! :)

Mute Madness

count the stars

till the day breaks

stare at the moon

till it takes on a new shape

keep walking

till you run out of road

sing

till you run out of songs

listen

but dont speak

speak

but don't tweak

take in

but don't be a fool

give up

when your cup is full

love

till your heart breaks into a song

love

till you are convinced its wrong

Love

Listen

Leave

Live

Something to Remember

I held your arm. Stiff. I don't blame you. The dawn is cold and our eyes are half shut. We walked silent. Not because we have nothing left to talk about but because our throats are parched from talking too much.

I remember the days I used to watch you drive by. If I get lucky, I'd get a wave from you. Most days, you drew a smile. My heart would giggle.

I remember the first time I heard your voice. It was not magical. That was also the first time I smelled you, or to put it correctly, your scent filled my nostrils.

I remember the first time I saw your nails. They were as clean as I imagined them to be.

I remember the first time you held my hand. Meaningless, yet, they were as warm as I imagined them to be.

I now have many things to remember about you. If you leave anytime soon, at least I will have something to remember.

I will choose to remember.

Dawn Breaking

First it was the smile

Then the scent

I used to just watch you drive by

Now you drive while they watch us pass by

You walked into my midnight

Is dawn breaking without a fight?

Mister,

Can you hear my heart?

If (Help, I'm in trouble)

You drive by

I feel my toes shiver

...

If

The distance between us

Is not measured by meters

But words

Then we are worlds apart

If

The years we grew up together

Is not a guarantee that we know each other

But moments

Then I don’t know you at all

However

If

The currency we exchange with

Is not bills or clinking coins

But smiles

Then we have enough to live on

If

The definition of a conversation

Is not the exchange of statements

But silence

Then we have been talking

...

You just walked by

I feel my heart shiver

p.s.

If

the definition of intrusion

is not wrongfully entering into one's property

but wrongfully entering into one's mind

Then,

then,

I'm in trouble

p.s.s. I think I like someone. Hehehe ;)

Adele Speaks For Me: Someone Like You

From the day I heard Adele to this day, I couldn't comprehend how she could sing the songs I wish I wrote. Her songs are gloomy but honest.

"If you ever had a broken heart, you will remember it now..."

Love is A Force

One of the best writers (in my opinion) i look up to is my cousin Sherl. I wrote about her love story here: If It Ain't Love it Ain't Grand. She recently wrote a poem describing her own love journey..and how, in November, it will end and yet begin another chapter at the altar. So, in the hype of the Royal Wedding, I found it fit to post this love-filled poem. Enjoy!

Love is A Force ( A Love Letter)

There once was a man

Who got in a jam

For the girl he once had

Broke his heart pretty bad.

So the man went about

Looking for ‘the one’ like a scout

Dated some gurl who was stout (haha!)

Found his soul still in drought.

There once was a girl

Who got in a swirl

For the man whose arms she had furled

Caused her weary heart to get hurled.

So the girl went away

Watching out for the happy and gay

Dated some guy who was lame

Found herself tired of the game.

But the man found a chance

In what begun as a glance

The bugs in his gut made a dance

Oh how he was in a trance!

But the girl was too evil

She donned the cloak of a rebel

The bugs in her heart were on level

Oh how she tried to only be civil!

Though the man fell from his high horse,

The girl owed him a sevenfold remorse

My Venus always says ‘Love is a force.’

Try as you may, you cant alter its course.

And so came the laughter and tears

The moments piled on, counted in years

The man and the girl swallowed their fears

And the bells will all be what one hears.

Hard may be the road,

In the walk toward the “have and to hold”

And long may be the wait,

For the name imprinted on our fate

One thing I am sure

In love and affection I will never be poor

It’s funny how I call you baby,

But you’re the best man for a lady.

And lady lady, I might never ever be (haha)

But you sure as hell ought to marry me!

- Sherlin Camacho

P.S. (So, I really need to turn the words My Venus into red, huh! hahaha! ) The photo above was taken during her Pre-Nup Shoot. She decided to take a weekend off and do her pre-nup at our province so she could be on my birthday. :D

Do You Know?

Look at me

Stand up and look me in the eye

Now,

Listen

Do you know I remember the first night we met?

And the nights after

When you kept saying hi?

Do you know I remember the first Christmas you called?

When I didnt remember

I gave you my number?

Do you know I remember the day you said ‘I love you SO MUCH?”

And I said, “thank you”

I thought it was really much

Do you know I remember asking you many times

What you mean by it

Coz you said it all the time?

Do you know I remember that you didn’t explain?

That you just think I’d dismiss it

And reasons would be vain?

Do you know I believed it with all my heart?

That I knew I was playing

A game with Art?

Do you know I believed all your explanations?

When I tried to run away

Because I couldn’t understand our situation?

Do you know I tried to un-love you?

But I reasoned with myself

Saying love is me

Do you know I never doubted you?

Do you know I appreciated every word you said?

Do you know I treasured all our conversations?

Do you know I remember your Valentine poem?

Do you remember saying it was for me?

Did you have a change of heart so fast?

Do you know I was in love with you?

Do you remember telling me if you were too?

Do you know I knew you weren’t?

Do you know I just wanted one answer?

You only had to choose

Between Yes and No

Do you know I held no anger?

Do you know I blamed no one?

Do you know I accepted defeat?

Do you know how it feels like to be made a fool?

Do you know I felt it?

Do you know I never blamed anyone for it?

Do you know I was determined to stay quiet?

Do you know someone you love talked me out of it?

Do you know I just couldn’t care?

Do you know I am now numb towards you?

Do you know the reason why I am writing this?

Do you know that if you say Yes

I still wouldn’t rest my case?

If you know

Stand up and look at me in the eye

If you know

let me know

Now,

Speak

i write in suppressed anger

Gravediggers We Have Become

we gave names to our dead

no, not names

codes, numbers

to represent our blunders

we planted daisies by the plot

to cover the dreadful

remembrance of the dead

an embarrassment to the living

we engraved lines on stones

dirges, odes and poems

and passers-by notice

only the craftsmanship

by day we ride our horses to town

telling stories of those we buried

and the crowds shed tears

only of laughter

(we have successfully spun

tragedy into comedy)

But by nightfall…

we found pleasure in digging up graves

pits we dug ourselves

to bury what was meant for the soil

and the worms to feast upon

Gravediggers we have become

With a pen for a spade and a sad song

Bringing above ground

The rotting silent corpses

(And each night

They grew smaller

and less pungent)

But by each daybreak

when our bodies are tired of the digging

we surrender to sleep

the dirt, our easy beds

(and when the sun is high

we ride to town again

and by nightfall

we dig some more)

...

if only we saw the crosses

we sculpted on each grave

we wouldn’t have grown old

sleeping on dirt, and with calloused hands

photo not mine. taken from here

Turning Thirty: Brewed, Brushed, Bolder..Older

When I stop and trace the path back to the day I started the last decade, I could see stone memorials along the way. In my opinion, the 20-30 decade is when most life changing decisions are made. At least, that’s what happened to me. One doesn’t come out of this decade just ten years older. You come out brewed, brushed and bolder…and yes, ooooolder. My, you wouldn’t believe ten years could make such difference.

To illustrate my point, I will compare the 20-30 decade with the 10-20 decade.

When I was 10, I was in school. When I turned 20, I was STILL in school.

When I was 10, I lived off my parents income. WhenI turned 20, I was STILL living off their income.

When I was 10, I dreamed of being swooned by a good guy. When I turned 20, I was STILL dreaming.

When I was 10, I looked forward to growing up. When I turned 20, I was STILL looking forward to it.

And then, there’s the 20 – 30 decade.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve worked in more than 2 schools.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve had 6 jobs.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve made money. Sometimes, not much.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve lived in 5 different cities.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve fallen in love 3 times. Apparently, fell out 3 times too.

Those things BREWED me.

Between 20 and 30, I earned a college diploma with flying colors.

Between 20 and 30, I worked as a Moderator of Co-curricular activities in a school and that’s where my talents welled up.

Between 20 and 30, I had countless stage-time that stirred my passion for public speaking.

Between 20 and 30, I won my first Speech title.

Between 20 and 30, I met 80% of the people I truly consider friends right now.

Between 20 and 30, I wrote poems and I allowed strangers to read them. I even wrote poems for strangers.

Between 20 and 30, I learned to love my hair.

Between 20 and 30, I gained all the weight I don’t need right now.

Between 20 and 30, I was educated by the best mentors, not in the classroom.

Between 20 and 30, I found my calling.

Those things BRUSHED my rough edges. (although I don’t really know how the weight and the hair fit in that category)

Now that I am 30, I am BOLDER.

Bold enough to take captive my own emotions just because they aren’t helping me.

Bold enough to walk away from what is good towards what is best.

Bold enough to fight for joy in the midst of suffering.

Bold enough to tell myself I am wrong.

Bold enough to let strangers invade my personal space because they don’t have any place they can call their own.

Bold enough to stand on a promise though the promise-keeper is frail.

Bold enough to keep standing on a promise made.

Bold enough to accept I have been wronged.

Bold enough to not hide my crushed pride.

Bold enough to say “Here I am, send me.”

Bold enough to admit I am never enough, no, not even for myself. Someone lives for me.

Bold enough to accept GRACE.

But if I am bold enough it is only because ... I hide beneath the CROSS.

To see my 10-20-30 transformation, see my other BLOG.

p.s. Oh, yeah…older too. Old enough to start a family, but

no one is bold enough to start it with me. Keeeeed-ing!!!

The Truth

I wonder if some of our questions will ever get answered.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My father told us of the story when he first liked a girl in high school.

He lived in a very rural area where houses were made of bamboo sticks and roofs were woven, palm-like leaves we call nipa. Since these are all light materials, the houses were often renovated by replacing old bamboo with new ones and removing dilapidated nipa with a fresh woven batch. When times are fortunate and the country doesnt suffer from very strong typhoons, it would take 6 to 8 years before one would need to do such renovations.

When my father entered high school, he liked a girl in his class. According to him, she was smart and stood out from among the girls. So, one day, he wrote a letter to this girl asking her to be his girlfriend, tucked it in an envelope and asked his closest friend to hand the letter over to the girl.

There were times when he thought the girl liked him too. At least, thats how it appeared to him. So he was very dismayed when a few days later, the letter came back to him, via his friend, still tucked in the same envelope. At 13, and in the presence of a friend, a defeat in the arena of love is just unimaginable.

He was so angry and hurt that he did not even dare to check whether the letter was read or not. When he traced his finger on the seal, he knew his message was rejected. So, to forget about it all, and to save him from further humiliation in case someone finds out about the letter, he tucked it underneath the woven nipa sheets, hidden from anyone's vision.

And he vowed to dislike her.

And she grew meaner by the day, giving him this angry looks.

Four years later, when it was time to change the roof, and he was manly-built enough to do the job, an almost unrecognizable piece of paper slipped from under the sheets. He picked it us and dusted it off only to remember it was the letter he had chosen to forget four years back.

He laughed at his stupidity. He was secretly embarrassed at the remembrance of that painful moment. Then, he decided to open the letter that seemed sealed. He was reminded of the indignant looks the girl had given him a few days after he decided to hate her. He remembered how he would intentionally choose to not be near her.

He opened his letter. His handwriting looked elementary. His words were now tasteless and did not spur any emotion, no, not even a sigh. He read it through, down to the very part where he signed his name. He laughed at himself again and decided to get back to working as the sun was starting to scorch his bare back. He thought of crumpling the letter and throwing it but decided against it just in case someone would suspiciously find it. His reputation , yes even in his household, was at stake. He decided to fold it, tuck it back in the envelope, and burn it right after he finishes his work.

And when he flipped the paper to fold it, he saw an unfamiliar handwriting at the back of the paper. He did not remember writing an extra line at the back. The handwriting didn't look like his either. In fact, it looked...girl-ly.

And the scribbled line said: "Yes, I want to be your girlfriend."

The four years was explained in that single sentence. Four years too late.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have questions too. Questions that if they were answered would have given light to situations that changed the course of my relationships. From that moment when I asked and I got back the 'look' that told me "YOU won't get any answers", I have surrendered. But surrender is a daily thing. I look up the sky sometimes and wonder if an answer is tucked somewhere, but, tell my self everyday, the answers are hidden for a purpose.

Someday, when it is cleaning time, it will come to me...but I am not so sure if they would still be of any value.

The truth will set us free

The truth is free

The truth is

I feel Free

Words

I am a student of Ravi Zacharias. I love apologetics very much. Today, I was on RZIM again to listen to him and take down notes. I will be posting my thoughts on that lesson in my other blog : Expanding My Territory.

He said something about 'words' that hit me in that sermon. I am a lover of words. I find beauty in words. I see words dance and play. I feel words. I have used words to my advantage and on some occasions, to my detriment. But here's what he said that I find to be a helpful thought when I write:

There is a massive difference between the use of fine words and the fine use of words.

Warmed Up: A Love Story

The night was gloomy. The November cold wasn’t helping. She held on to him for warmth like how she had for the few months that had passed. His heart had more than warmth to offer.

They drove around the city somehow realizing how funny fate could be, at the same time recognizing Someone had mapped it all out for them. For who could believe that in this small city, where everyone knows everyone’s shadow, they have not known about each other, up until 5 months ago. Despite the fact that they both lived here for more than 30 years, despite the many common friends they have, despite numerous government functions they were both present at, yes, despite the fact that they stood as godparents to two of their friends’ children, they only became aware of each other’s existence one God-given day in July.

Indeed, when love walks into your life, an ordinary day takes on a new dimension. On the day that was painted with waiting, her waiting for the right man ended. Along with her co-teachers, Lovella queued up to claim her honorarium at the COMELEC Office for the services she rendered during the last election. Mixing sweat and stories, like most joyful teachers, they waited for their turn. At one point, Edsel, her co-teacher and close friend mentioned about her singleness and jokingly volunteered to play cupid and find her a match. They mockingly discussed prospects and possibilities even as they joined another line of people, this time, buying fruits from the vendors near the office.

Just then, a familiar face, owned by a man riding a motorcycle crossed Edsel’s horizon. He took no second thought and muttered “Ma’am Love, how does an architect sound to you? See that guy? I know him. He’s single.” When Lovella turned around to look at this man Edsel was talking about, she only saw his back as he sped along.

No sparks. No fireworks. The clouds didn’t gather to form a wreath. No birds suddenly appeared to sing a serenade. Nature gave no clue that God had answered her prayers.

For days now she has been devoting some time to take a walk early in the morning and talk to God. It would be for forty days, like how she did it many times over when she would ask God for something. This walk that would conclude on her birthday would be for something she has long waited for – A lifetime partner. No, not a boyfriend, not a get-the-day-through guy but the one who would spend the rest of his days with her.

Unknown to her, Edsel was serious about introducing her to Fred. Serious may not describe his strategy of sending Fred an anonymous text containing Lovella’s phone number and an imperative “text her”, but he never doubted in his mind that they would make a good couple. So, he tirelessly sent Fred messages coaxing him to start a communication with her.

It was only when Love received a wrongly sent text message that she found out what was going on behind her back. It was from Fred, asking Edsel a question, giving the impression that he thought Lovella’s phone number was Edsel’s. Later on, he confessed of his disguising strategy.

Lovella replied modestly, showing not much interest. A reply started a conversation. A conversation started a regular and intentional communication, then, the resolution to finally meet each other in person.

That God-appointed day came. Without glamour and fancy, they met. Surprisingly, they realized, this wasn’t the first time they saw each other. One day,( while still in their phase of exchanging messages), on her way to work, Lovella saw a guy in black shirt cross the street and a strange feeling told her it was Fred. Today, she found out it was indeed him. Fred on the other hand, recalled a woman that caught his attention, clad in a little black dress, during a photo exhibit at the city hall. And yes, he remembered that face too, of a lady sitting poised in a tricycle, carefully covering the slit on her skirt with her right hand, looking at her while he crossed the street one day. And like long-time friends they talked, laughed and shared candid moments.

The talks translated into longer, deep conversations. The laugher turned to meaningful smiles and the moments were slowly filed into memories. The days unfolded the wonder they found in each other. Little by little their souls became transparent to each other. Their preferences, ideals and dreams were almost similar. Their common ground was slowly enlarging, laying the foundation to a meaningful relationship.

Falling in love is wonderful but the problem with love is, you can’t keep it to yourself. Fred could no longer hold the weight of love in his heart, he laid it out in the open. What woman could resist the heart of a man truly in-love? Lovella knew this was no ordinary man. He sought God’s will and He answered. She professed her love for him and together, they painted beautiful days.

When love takes you in everything changes. And on that cold November night, as they drove along the streets of this city they call their home, they noticed how ordinary things took on new meanings. The few months of knowing each other filled the empty cracks of the years that were behind them. To Lovella, the long waiting seemed like yesterday. On the other hand, Fred could only wish tomorrow is here today.

While she enjoyed the warmth of his presence, he longed to give her a future. He purposely stopped their street-combing in front of an edifice most familiar to both of them. Unlighted and empty at this cool hour of the night, the church seemed like a perfect façade for the proposal Fred had made up in his mind. Clueless of what was going to happen but marvelling at the gesture, Lovella enjoyed this quiet moment together, until he broke the silence. He asked her to marry him.

You now know what her answer was. Indeed, when God writes our love stories it is unlike the rest. He carefully scribbles His signature in our moments and weaves together amazing experiences that we call miracles. God gave Fred and Lovella their own brand of miracle. They now continue to warm each other in the fire of God’s love.

*Lovella is a good friend of mine and the photo above is one of their pre-nup photos. She works as a school paper adviser in a high school here in our city. While planning for her wedding, she decided to give it a personal flare and thought of making her invites look like a newsletter. In fact, the invite really is a newsletter!!! She gave me the honor of writing their lovestory. She and Fred will get married in May. photo courtesy of Fotographia*