A Vigil

 

Right now, I am on a vigil… waiting for someone to die. I probably lost hope when I saw his situation.

This is always the hardest part. The waiting… and probably the hoping. The hoping that things would change and he’d get better and the endless waiting. I hate that he has to suffer. And I had to suffer with him too.

I can’t stand it. The fact that I can’t do anything, that time is flying, that even after crying buckets of tears, I still have a lot left.

I had to write this because I can’t stand it. I had to bleed the emotions out. If words had color, these would come out in red.

The hurting does not end the hoping and the hoping does not stop the hurting. I don’t know if he’s lucid anymore. I just know he is in pain.

Panda was born on June 2014. His mother waited until I arrived from Cebu before she had her litter – two pretty kittens with her colors. Panda had black and white fur and Orange had yellow-orangey and white fur.

Our cat of three years, Puti (because she’s pure white and had speckles of orange and black), died on a road accident about a month ago. She was hit by a car when she investigated a pack of mewling kittens thrown over by someone on the waiting shed.

We took in the kittens and a month later, they died and infected Panda with whatever disease they brought.

Now, Panda is dying and I can’t bring myself to go to work in this state. I am on a vigil, a painful one for me. I know some people would laugh but I considered our pets relatives already. They share in all aspects of our life, they are part and parcel of our routines and they are helpless creatures who litters our home with little pockets of joy.

So, it is hurting me to see him dying like this, painfully. And I can only cry.

The Greatest Love Story of my Life (The SFC Knights’ Tale and Princess’ Diaries Weekend Retreat)

 

 

 

This weekend retreat of the CFC-Singles for Christ was originally meant for the Iloilo Lower North Sector (Passi, Duenas, Barotac Viejo/Nuevo, Banate) alone. However, since it was scheduled for November last year and Typhoon Yolanda hit the Visayas area exactly that day, it was, of course, cancelled/postponed.

I was excited about this retreat because it has been a much touted retreat in the conferences I attended. What I was not looking forward to was wearing a dress.The dress code was my biggest problem. I did not see the whole point back then. You can listen to talks by wearing everyday clothes anyway.

Last August 24, 2014, we had the Iloilo North Sector KTPD Weekend Retreat at Passi National High School, Passi City, Iloilo. Participants were from the Lower North and Upper North Sector (Ajuy, Sara, Balasan, Estancia).

The sisters attended the Princess’ Diaries retreat while the brothers attended the Kinghts’ Tale retreat. I could not grasp the concept as to why we had separate retreats at first but the first talk cleared all the cobwebs in my brain. Indeed, it would be uncomfortable to talk about the stuff our speaker mentioned when there are brothers (men) around. Just listening to her made me feel uncomfortable. I did not realize I was prudish that way.

I don’t think I can ever relay the whole five talks in this small space. Suffice it to say, it was an encounter that completed the missing pieces of the puzzle I call myself.

The other weekend retreats I attended answered several questions I needed to answer. This retreat, however, provided a necessary element that was missing – what it means to be a woman in God’s eyes… what it truly means to be the daughter of the King, to be His princess.

Growing up with two generations of a female dominated household can give you twisted ideas of womanhood. I never really knew what being a woman meant. In fact, I got the message that being a woman is not good so I have come to cultivate and develop the more masculine aspects of myself.

I became cool, cold, aloof, uncaring and gruff. I became career oriented. When Tatay left, I took over his role.I helped provide for the family and discipline my brothers in ways my mother can’t discipline them because she had a really soft heart for her sons. I can be cruel in order to be kind and I believed that.

But, I am a woman. This retreat made me see that. I am a woman, designed by God to be a woman, with a woman’s needs and desires. These desires are alright, and they are not wrong. They are not vanity or covetousness, but are normal and expected of being a woman. There’s nothing wrong with my tendencies. There’s nothing wrong with feelings of discontent since my life is not fulfilling God’s designs, after all. I saw that during this retreat.

I was becoming what Talk 3 warned us about. I was already exhibiting what becomes of a woman when she believes the lies she is told – about not being beautiful at all, about not being enough, about being undeserving, unwanted, unloved. I was becoming a little of the Dominating woman- the woman pretending to be strong. I was becoming the woman who tries to pretend she can do it all, who tries to deny or hide her heart’s desire. The woman who is always self-assured, and who focuses on material success. I was also becoming the Desolate woman – the woman who is overgenerous, who clings to people (I don’t cling though, I automatically teach myself not to care enough), and sometimes, who think that they are nothing, are nobody. I was already suffering from depression.

Despite the really positive, self defining Discovery Weekend two years ago, I was wondering why I cannot reconcile myself. I now know why – I was seeing everything with masculine eyes, the one I developed in order to protect my heart and cope with the lies I completely accepted and believed in.

Talk 4 helped me see all that. The speaker, Sis Lhyn from the Upper North, talked about how deep inside our hearts, we have questions about our beauty. I was really defensive then, thinking that I never had those question… and this is what I wrote even while she was speaking.

- There is no question whether I am lovely or beautiful because I don’t believe I am, and I don’t bother to make the effort since it will not change anything, anyway.

But deep inside, I realized I have buried all these questions. I had a standing joke with my mother three or four years ago (I was 25 that time). I always asked her Nay, gwapa ako? (Mother, am I beautiful?) She will always tell me, Huo, a. (Yes) . Despite her answers, I really never believed my mother.

I keep hearing the jeers, the laughter (tambok ibok-ibok gadalagan, naga umpok, and please do not ask me to translate this, its rude Hiligaynon after all.). I believed I was bullied a lot in elementary and high school and in order to cope, I turned to books and food. I became cold, aloof, uncaring, sometimes shy, but really, just jaded and tired of trying to make others like me. I accepted all that and coped as best as I could but obviously, it was the wrong way to cope.

I never asked those questions again from anyone. I became too afraid to ask. Besides, boys have made their answers clear without saying a word. No one courted me, fat (obese really) girl that I am and I kept saying, I am thankful since it means I have no problem. But, in reality, it felt like rejection.

So, Talk 4 helped start the healing process. I know you can’t do away with a lifetime of taunts in just one night but it helped me see something I failed to see. Our speaker told us to pray and forgive ourselves, forgive others -the women in our lives who failed to show us what true womanhood means, the men in our lives who failed to protect our fragile hearts, and those who failed to see how innately sensitive we are and treat us accordingly. She also urged us to forgive God, because somewhere, somehow, or at some point in our lives, we have blamed God. (And she is right!)

Then, she urged us to dance with God and ask Him all our questions.

1. Do you see something in me that makes you want to pursue me?

2. Do you find me worth fighting for?

3. Is my mystery worth revealing to you?

4. Does my presence add meaning to our relationship?

5. Am I making a difference to you?

6. Do I offer something that will make you pursue a relationship with me?

7. Do you appreciate/value the beauty I held?

Sis Lhyn told us that only One should answer these questions – only God should. And all His answers are a definite YES to all our questions… and while dancing with Him that afternoon, I knew it as the truth.

God, indeed, has designed me, not only to be beautiful, but captivating, worthy to be pursue or romanced, and worthy to be loved, by the King Himself.

Others may not think so, but that is only because they do not believe this of themselves. Once you do, you’ll see everyone as worthy of being the same – God’s creation, sons and daughters of the Lord… His Princesses and Knights.

And that day, I rediscovered the greatest romance of my life.

 

 

 

Routines, Responsibilities and Selfish Servitude

 

While you live searching for meaning, there is this one guy (representative of the many probably) in the world whose wasting his time and millions in selfish, self-serving pursuits, offending people with his very lifestyle and not caring a whit.

I used to find Dan Bilzerian fascinating. His very lifestyle appealed to the rebellious, dark streak I had - the side that read erotic romance novels. He was the epitome of the heroes I met (except for the I-don’t-care-attitude) in those paranormal romance novels (I kept imagining him in place of Dragos, the dragon tycoon, yes, dragon, from Thea Harrison’s novel, Dragon Bound).

I know Dragos and his ilk do not exist in real life. But since my imagination is poor, while reading Dragon Bound, I kept putting Dan Bilzerian in his place… and the heroine? I had the image of someone like that girl from Tekken  ( I know I need to brush up on my imagination and pay attention to details when reading and no, I am not one of those girl who imagine myself in place of the heroines, I don’t have the guts. The heroes and heroines just become my friends and well, I haven’t read much novels with fat heroines in them, so I really, really can’t imagine away).

I keep thinking how lucky he is to have that much money to waste away while I turn over all my earnings to send my younger siblings to school. I even have to scrape the meager amount of money I have left to photocopy learning materials for my learners and yeah, still have some left for my favorite street food, at the end of the day. Every lunchtime I go home to feed our pets and spend time with our cat and her kittens, I keep thinking that if I had his money, I would build a home conducive to pets where I can let them loose and they can play their hearts away and I would not have to worry that they might slip outside and get run over by vehicles.

I find myself wondering why he is doing what he is doing. And then I would ask why am I doing what I am doing? What do I do? I wake up late (because I read late into the night trying to escape my problems and reality), rush to our Community Learning Center and conduct learning sessions with my out-of-school youth learners, and buy squid balls and japanese siomai after class to make myself feel better. Then, I would go home and feed the cats and dogs. Go back to work on session plans, learning materials, and sometimes, work on reports requested by our supervisor and paper stuff requested by the City or hold tutorial sessions. Then, before my family comes home from work or school (I still live with my family), I have to clean up the house, wash the dishes and make sure everything's okay. Then I would go up to my room to sleep or read or just putter around, trying to run away from the frustration that this is not the life I want to live. By Saturday, I would waste an entire day reading away, escaping. On Sunday, I would force myself to go to Mass and attend the Singles for Christ’s prayer meetings and activities. Then, we would repeat everything else on Monday. I do things out of routine and responsibility.

And then, I find myself online staring at amazing, titillating photos that Dan Bilzerian would post on his twitter account and think, wow, what a waste. Waste of resources, waste of time (time especially), waste of human life, created in God’s image and doing things it is not supposed to do… and he does not care at all!

Am I bitter? Am I jealous? Did his lifestyle made mine pale in comparison? Here’s a man doing what he wants for himself and here I am doing what others want me to do. What is the difference? Both lives are still a waste. I do things selflessly, it may appear, but deep inside, I feel bitter, joyless. I just keep doing it for appearances sake, for responsibility’s sake, which is not how life was meant to be.I try to escape the pain of living for others by reading and eating too much. Sometimes, I also sleep too much because I know, deep inside, I am wasting my life.

There’s nothing wrong with doing things for other people but doing so because you feel guilty, or because you can’t say no for fear of offending them and then feel bad about everything you had to do is the wrong thing. Trying to escape that situation by reading, eating and sleeping my life away is also the wrong things.

Passion is the answer. A passion for life, for God, for His people. A love for them moving inside your soul, extending from within you, making your limbs move to serve, out of love, out of joy, out of concern, not out of routine and responsibility.This one is healthy.

What should I live for? I have no final answer or answers for this question but in the meantime, I have these:

1. I live for my family 

I live for my brothers and sisters and my parents…to provide them with a better way of life than what they could have without me.

2. I live for my learners 

I live to encourage and inspire them to be the best self that they can become even at those points when no one would want to believe in them

3. I live for my Father in Heaven

God loves me so much that He made me. It was His love that enabled me to be alive and it is this love that I hold on for living. I may stumble and fall, I may sometimes get lost in this journey, but I live with the clear awareness and knowledge that I am journeying towards something and that is Him.

4. I live for His people

God loves His people. He created man out of the enormity of that love. In our Christian Life Program, I learned that the ten commandments are summarized into two: (1) Love God with all your heart, soul and strength and (2) Love your neighbor as you love yourself. It is important for us to love ourselves too because that is the measurement of the kind of love we can give another person, our neighbor, the person in need that we encounter in our lives.

Back to Dan Bilzerian. Who am I to judge his life or lifestyle? Who are we indeed? I believe that eventually, all of us will answer to Someone, and that Someone has already told us what He wanted from us right from the start. It’s up to us to use what He has given us. But we would eventually answer to Him, in the end.

But to the judgmental side of ourselves who wants to decide on the time and place of reckoning ourselves, here’s a timely reminder:

 

Yep. And I thank the Lord for that timely reminder too.

I am Mary Magdalene

I don’t know if I will ever publish this blog post. If I did, then, you would be reading it.
Mary Magdalene is the notorious prostitute who was almost stoned because she was caught in an adulterous act. She was saved from death because of Jesus. After that, Magdalene did not go her merry way to sin again. Instead, she followed the Christ and became one of His disciples.
Today, July 22, is her feast day.
I can identify with Mary Magdalene. The 1st reading and the psalm today speaks of a longing for the Lord. A longing I have been familiar with for the past months.
My previous blog entries speak of how I am waiting, because I have grown tired of my own self-control. It speaks of my discontent as I try to fill my life with things that do not count – work, ambition, graduate school, a lot of books especially the erotic ones, food, too much sleeping- I actually allowed myself all the pleasure it can afford. But, no matter how I fill the emptiness in me, it cannot be assuaged. I was still longing.
The first reading got that correctly.
“Asleep on my bed, night after night I dreamed of the one I love; I was looking for him, but I couldn’t find him.” –Song of Songs, 3:1
I went through that phase and filled it with things that are not right in His eyes. I knew it but it was so easy to justify it. I was Magdalene. And I was not happy.
I keep wondering if there will ever be a time when I would feel the joy of His presence, the assurance of His love and I know I could not do that as long as I keep holding on to the novels that make it so impossible for me to be with Him.
Then, last Sunday, after so much pressure and so much trouble, I attended the SFC CLP Training. It was the first SFC event I went to after 10 months. I keep missing everything after I struggled over an identity crisis, with some fear and doubt thrown in. I am not sure how things changed. I felt it was brewing then for a while.I’ve gone back to hearing the Mass on Sunday. I was experiencing Catholicism anew.I was trying to convince myself that by just hearing the mass, I would be okay. I do not need to attend SFC activities anymore.But something was lacking.
So, that Sunday, I went back to the community I did not really openly turn away from. And things changed.It’s like I woke up.
All I know is that a Christian community helps you experience the fullness of God’s love. My Christian Community, the CFC-Singles for Christ, despite its imperfections (because its members are the very same human beings that God loves so much), helped me overcome the struggle… not in empty words of encouragement. I haven’t told anyone the struggle I was going through but their kindness, their concern, their availability to be used by God, made them all a conduit of His love for me. And so, in that old chapel in Duenas, I found God again or maybe, like Magdalene in today’s Gospel, Jesus found her, knew her, called her by name. It was only when Jesus called her by name that she realized she was not talking to the gardener but to the risen Lord Himself. (John 20:1-2, 11-18).
And when she did find him, “I held him and wouldn’t let him go until I took him to my mother’s house, to the room where I was born.” – Song of Songs 3:4

I am Mary Magdalene. My sins have shackled me from experiencing life to its fullest (and I know experiencing it to the fullest doesn’t mean just enjoying it but living life and feeling all the range of emotions man is supposed to go through and still feel love, peace and joy because you know that God is with you). I am Mary Magdalene. And He found me again, knew me, and called me by name.

Longing for God

(Psalm 63:1-8)

O God, you are my God and I long for you.

My whole being desires you; like a dry, worn-out, and

waterless land, my soul is thirsty for you.

Let me see you in the sanctuary;

let me see how mighty and glorious you are.

Your constant love is better than life itself,

and so I will praise you.

I will give you thanks as long as I live;

I will raise my hands to you in prayer.

My soul will feast and be satisfied,

and I will sing glad songs of praise to you.

As I lie in bed, I remember you;

all night long I think of you,

because you have always been my help.

In the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.

I cling to you, and your hand keeps me safe.

The Face in the Pool

 

The title has everything to do with today’s post and not because I found myself looking at some pool (I wish I did). I just found myself encoding a Reading Comprehension Test with that title… and English Reading Comprehension Test…for my ALS learners.

Twelve years ago, I entered the gates of West Visayas State University to start my preparation for a lifetime career as an English teacher. I love English as a language. I love learning about its nuances, its forms, its structures… I especially love all the literatures we studied. It was in the midst of English teachers and those aspiring to become English teachers that my philosophy of education has been formed. The entire learning experience shaped a lot of my beliefs, my ideals, my strange easy acceptance of the world.

I left WVSU as a proficient graduate and future English teacher (yes, I am that confident).

Then, five years ago, I found myself (sometime around this month or so too) rolling all over our floor, crying, thinking and pondering deeply. I was already a secondary school English teacher for three years back then, contracted with the Local School Board of our Local Government Unit and assigned to teach in my Alma Mater – Passi National High School. However, it was not a national item and for a teacher, teaching in a public school is a must, a necessity to safeguard not only one’s future but that of her family’s.

An offer I could not resist was placed before me. There was an item for an ALS Mobile Teacher. Back then, I was also working under contract with the ALS service provider in our division as an Instructional Manager, teaching out of school youth and adults. It took me months to ponder that decision. I told myself that when I make this leap, there would be no going back. I told myself that it would still be “teaching” and teaching is really the one I love… it does not matter what I teach as long as I am teaching. I still cried, because it also meant I would be giving up something I love too. It’s like loving marriage but getting married to a person you do not love and expecting that you will just learn to love him in the end.

On January 4, 2010, I became an ALS Mobile Teacher.

And now, honestly, I am hurting. It took a reading exercise in a Grade 6 book to open the wound that I have kept bandaged for four years. I feel so hurt now, so disappointed with what I have become. I feel so sad and I keep thinking about what I told myself five years ago. I told myself that whatever decision I made, I would never regret it.

And here I am, wondering if I am actually regretting the decision I made.

Life as You Planned It

 

I am a planner by nature. I like making to do list. I also like making daily “want” list. I have plans for one year, plans for the next five years, plans for the next ten years and hopeful aspirations for the remaining years of my life.

I have plans for myself, plans for my family, plans for work, plans for everything. I told you I like plans.

When my supervisor tells me to do work plans and action plans, my soul is thrilled. I can’t wait to challenge my imagination regarding how I want the future to be.

The problem with planning (and yes, there is a problem with planning especially at the end of the planned period) is that plans rarely materialize. Some of what you planned will happen but often, they happen in ways you least planned them to be. Some of what you planned never happens. And when you care, you get hurt and disappointed – a lot.

Lesson/Session plans are also the same story. Sometimes your plans are realized. Sometimes, they are not. Like right now, while waiting for my learners to arrive, I can’t help but feel disappointed because they actually failed to come. Only one learner came and we cannot do the lesson I have planned… not alone. So, I need to do something else for her… which is not in my plan at all.

Life never goes according to our plans. They seldom do. However, planning is still a good thing. It makes you understand what you want for the future and how you want it to be. I just have to learn not to get too immersed in planning because I just might be missing the point of living.

So, what’s on my plan today?

1. To live life to its fullest today.

2. To feel and really feel but not be overwhelmed or controlled by emotions.

3. To enjoy the moment!

4. To live this world a better and brighter place than it was before I came into it today.

5. To bask in God’s love every moment.

Still Seeking, Sometimes Praying, Always Hoping

 

I am not more enlightened than  I was months ago. I guess, I just feel more grounded, less afraid, more hopeful, more open, less excited, but still eager.

I can still feel my emotions strongly but I am now more willing to examine them very carefully inside my own heart, hoping and sometimes praying that it won’t explode and hurt innocent bystanders. I am in that in-between space again, still waiting, hoping, and sometimes praying.

A lot has happened in the past few months. A lot has also changed. Some of the changes were positive to everybody but to a broken soul like me, sometimes, these changes are not as welcome as I thought they would be. I had to adjust to new roles, new expectations and disappointments…

I had to make a place within me for the total acceptance that You are the Sovereign God, the All Powerful, All Knowing Creator who was, is, and always will be in control of everything in my life. You write my story, and I get to live it.

But, in giving You that space, I should also provide for the knowledge that accepting You does not mean everything would be easy, and that everything will fall into place. I just have to realize and accept that I need You so that even when things go wrong, You are still in control.

That even when I do not know the why’s right now, I should not worry, because I know the Who – that I know You.

I pray that I would always be able to say that honestly.

What Makes Life More Precious

 

It was a busy Friday yesterday when out of the blue, I received a phone call, in the middle of a session with my learners. It was Nenalyn, one of my dearest high school friends. She arranged a meet up with our high school classmates.

It was fortunate that only Marian (another bff in high school, and the three of us were thick as thieves back then) came. We had an intimate exchange that day along with so much food to burst us… and so much stories shared.

I was moved to tears by the experience. Connecting, really connecting with other persons especially those quite dear to you are special moments. I realized how much I missed my high school friends. And I also realized how much I missed the girls who made high school bearable (I was a neurotic competitive control freak even then).

I also realize that the limits we imposed upon ourselves are the only limits that truly caged us. I have been avoiding them for a lot of reasons yes, pride being the topmost reason but letting go of pride at times allows you to reach out to other people and allows you to see the beauty of life, the purpose of living – not to amass countless accolades, recognition, control or power…

I long for more of such connections. Simple connections among friends while eating siomai, talking openly and warmly about the past… that poignant experience can even bring tears to my eyes at present.

I do not enjoy them often but when I do, I treasure them dearly in my heart. Truly, when the heart is engaged, even a simple, short reunion in a common place becomes the most celebrated of memories.

It’s like I keep seeing the past interspersed with the present and it keeps giving me a glimpse of a wonderful future with them. Since they are still single too, we plan to meet up again when Nenalyn comes home after two years, some place where we can bond and enjoy life to its fullest.

As Long as It Takes

In our earthly journey, we often come to a standstill... a point where taking a step back feels as dangerous as making another step forward. A point where it's too dark to make any move in any direction at all...

At this point, you feel like you are going nowhere and you do not know what direction to take or where to go. So, what do you do? I am at this point. I can't move forward and I can't move backward... all I can do is play this song over and over and over again.

Faded Photographs 1

 

Finding my parents old photo album wrecked me a bit. The reality of the past captured in faded photographs contrasts too much with my present foggy reality.

I will be honest. I have an aversion to having my photos taken. I never had that as a child but as I grew up, I avoided the camera unless I am the one wielding it.

However, yesterday was a revelation. Photographs are beautiful. They carry the weight of a thousand memories we often tend to forget… sometimes because they are too painful to remember or sometimes, because they are too beautiful that looking back hurts you a lot.

Looking at photographs is like walking down memory lane. It helps you piece back together the tattered pieces of yourself. It makes you remember your essence as a person. It makes you recall the equally beautiful and painful memories of your yesterdays and by so  doing, it enables you to remember what matters.

Having your pictures taken with the people you are with captures the moment forever – something for you to look back on once the moment and sometimes, the people in them, have left your life.

Well, ‘selfies” are another matter. It only enhances the vagueness of the moment. But, having group pictures taken with your friends, your family, your classmates – well, these are the photos that are really worth looking back on.

This was probably taken when I was only four or five years old, with my baby sister then, my Nanay and Tatay (they don’t look anything like this now and I can’t remember them looking this way at all!), and Tatay’s younger sister.

With Tatay, and my younger sisters. My sisters keep laughing at how attention-deficit I was back then. I always loved having everyone’s, including the camera’s, attention. ( I wonder where that girl went though).

With Nanay and my younger sisters… So much has changed over the years…

At five or maybe six years old… with Nanay (and I don’t know the person beside her). Nanay used to be the Canteen Manager at PNHS.

At seven or something, with my sisters and some cousins and neighbors taken during the baptism of a cousin…You will no longer recognize these faces anymore… I haven’t met some of them again…

Plaza forays in my elementary days….

Fiesta Shoot: This was during a fiesta celebration at my father’s home town. I was with an aunt, my siblings and a cousin I seldom see nowadays.

Two or three years later at my father’s home town. I was in Grade Six and just had an operation. I remember not wanting to go there because it was too hot and my forehead (a node/lump/cysts was removed a week ago I think) was itching a lot.

Grade V, during a fiesta event in our hometown… with my sister who was then in Grade II.

In church, after our “pag confirma” which I still don’t understand until now…All I remember at that time was I want to go home already!

Grade VI Recognition Day with Nanay and my sisters…

Still in Grade VI, when motherhood for me, began. I am holding the current youngest sibling in our family. To think that I was nanny for the two youngest boys, and now, they are all taller than me!

Pieces of the me falling in line… now, if I can find the remaining pieces….

 

PS… will buy a camera for all those memories to hoard in the future…

New Beginnings

 

Sometimes, when you keep setting a target or a goal for yourself, you become blinded by everything else.

Goal setting is okay but goal obsessing is not. When we were informed of the post for Education Program Specialist for ALS, I got a little off tangent. I coveted that post since it would solve a lot of problems for me. And I am ashamed to admit that its foremost attraction was on the financial side.

That obsession made me forget a lot of things. For a few months I was driven. I was so suspicious of all the people around me who may apply for the post.I warned my co-workers that if I did not get that post, I will no longer do all the stuff I have been doing for ALS. I will only focus on my basic responsibilities as a Mobile Teacher, as outlined in our PAST (Performance Appraisal System for Teachers). I will no longer work on those reports except those I am required to do as a Mobile Teacher. I will only do what is specified in my job description. When I realized that my chances are slim to none, I felt depressed. I withdrew a bit inside myself. I felt really awful all the time. I felt guilty for my covetousness but I also felt more guilty for my suspicions and my conspiracy theories.  I played the blame-game with God, with myself, with my superiors, with my mother, with everything else in my life! I told God that His plan was not so good after all. I had not wanted to become a Mobile Teacher right from the start. I planned on becoming an English teacher in my Alma Mater. That was my plan. If I did not get promoted anywhere, I feel I would be happy if I grew old and mold inside my English classroom. At least, I would be doing something I love. But He led me into this work, this painful, raw reality of the other side of basic education.  Every year, He just gives me something to cry about, to be hurt about or to feel insecure about. This job is a lonely job for me. Looking for learners, watching ill-prepared learners take the test and fail, every year – it’s just too painful. Always, you are reminded that nothing is under your control. That once your learners leave your learning center, they are at the mercy of the Higher Power. There is no other option than prayer… for their protection, their success, their guidance, peace and maturity. I should have been a writer, a romance novelist. Then, I could have just stayed at home and churn one novel after another without meeting a lot of people who will only hurt me, betray my trust, talk behind my back, misinterpret my actions…. I was really becoming over-sensitive.

I wanted something too much. That should have been a warning to me then. I wanted something so badly I can almost taste the desire for it. Realizing that this was all out of my control freaked me out a lot.I mean, I should know right? I just keep forgetting.

But somehow, somewhere, a part of me has started to let go. It really is all out of my hands. I am not fit for the rat-race, as they call it. I am not a rat. It does not fit well with my skin.I know I will just fulfill my responsibilities as a Mobile Teacher as best as I can. I want to inspire my learners to be much better than who they were when they first entered our CLC (Community Learning Center). For now, that sounds a much worthy goal than obsessing over something that is out of my control.

God can see all my tomorrows. I can only see this moment. So, I will entrust all these things to Him, unburden my heart from all its fears and doubts and believe that His plans for me are all good.

Becoming that Person

 

 

      Jesus, help me to simplify my life by learning what you want me to be – and becoming that person.- St. Therese of Lisieux

 

 

 

 

From the start, I have always been a very complicated person who likes to complicate everything especially when it comes to emotions. What could have been simple becomes very complicated in my hands and in my mind.

Sometimes, I find dealing with myself quite hard. I even managed to think of this difficult person as someone separate from myself but is still a part of me. However, I want to believe that I am just a simple person. I like pretending I am one.

But then, when I think about the kind of God we have, I am bound to believe that as His creation, I am not simple at all. So, maybe I should stop pretending that I am one. He has designed and executed an intricate and complex plan for creation after all. 

However, if I try to add the needs and wants filling every nook and cranny of my very person, it would be too much, indeed. Although complex in its execution, intricate in its blue print, all our needs and wants can be met with something terribly simple. It’s too simple in fact that we often fail to grasp it in its simplicity.

As we live, every day, we ask ourselves, Who am I? What am I here for? And we come up with a lot of complex and complicated answers to these ones. We think in terms of the roles we play when we consider our responses to the first question. For the second question, we consider our first responses too.

My responses to the first question were:

1. I am a Mobile Teacher

2. I am a daughter

3. I am the eldest sister

Thus, I come up with these responses to the second question:

1. I am here to teach out-of-school children, youth and adults;

2. I am here to obey my mother and father and show them my love and affection (actually, I meant to write – to please my mother)

3. I am here to serve as a model for my younger siblings (in thought, word, and deed).

 

However, a time would usually come when my roles and purposes would overwhelm me, oppress me, and limit me too. And, at some point, I come at a stand still, because I would realize how transient these roles are, how ineffectual and how unimportant at times and how lonely I would become too.

But today, it came upon me that I have one identity and my purpose is connected with it too.

I am the daughter of a King. I am here to get to know my Father, to love my Father, and to love all His children as well. All other things would serve only to distract me form this one purpose.

Now, how does that connect with me and my life? Well, that is what this journey is all about.

The Face of My Fear

 

Hey, I think you’re living in a cloud!

Several days after my (hopefully) last final examination for Graduate School (for my first MAEd that is), a voice inside me whispered those words.

It was very quiet then. Even as I try to recuperate from several days of lack of sleep and really gritty eyes, and even as I try to busy myself with work, with accepting an opportunity (a torture at this stage) to serve God vocally in front of my fellow SFCs, with working on two project proposals for our LGU linkages,  with reading shoujo manga’s on the side, a part of me, just a little part, was rebelling and was trying to pull me away from all this… like I am doing too much of stuff for people – without connecting to these people.

I feel hollow inside now. And I am longing for something simple… something where I can get in touch with people, something where I can still watch the sunrise and the sunset and do quiet walks surrounded by the beauty of creation.

Home, work, home, work, graduate school… busy travelling to and fro and not really seeing where you are going and who you are connecting with… where is life in that? Where is love?

Somehow, a part of me longs to be somewhere else, with people whom I can help and who see me not as some one who can do something great, but someone who works with great love in her heart.

I cannot give up thoughts of becoming a religious sister because I fear what I might become if I stay single – a power hungry, status driven old-maid who sticks by the rules. I am afraid of losing what little love has started to warm my life.

I want to get out there and do something like volunteer. I want to get out there and do something that is not for me but for the other person or persons. I want to serve like that’s what I am meant to be or do…I fear becoming so driven like this for work, for position and status, for promotion… I fear that so much… I fear becoming so detached that I will not feel Jesus in my heart anymore.I fear that above all else.

I was always wondering why I was getting chilled before… I was trying to cover up my true fear by not facing them. My fear has an ugly face but it was really so simple. I was just so good at complicating things that I ended up not able to grasp it.

I know what it was like to live without love. Everyday was in monochrome, like everything is gray, or black and white. Like you are an automaton functioning simply because you have to. I am only starting to feel how love can color my world.

But I was only able to have short glimpses of it. I long to be overwhelmed by that love. I long to be immersed in it. I long to bask in it fully that all I am, every moment, is a reflection of that love.

However, I do not know how to….

What I Want to Tell You

 

Dear Heaven,

Photo Credit: somewhere on the internet (sorry)

I just want to tell you and the rest of the world, that I am not okay. I am hurting. I am filled with anger, pain, resentment, guilt and dark passions I can’t handle.

Right now, I do not want to listen to anybody. Right now, I can feel myself retreating deeper, far away from the possibility of anyone finding out the truth and rejecting me. You put up a strong façade. You put up a smile. You continue to attend household meetings and hear the mass when deep inside, you know, you know somewhere, your faith has been fractured. It has wavered in the face of so many stuff you have to deal with in the past few months. Stuff you refused to look into properly. Frightening things you kept hidden because you can’t stand to look into them.

You want them to see that you are strong. You're not that strong! You want to convince them your good. We both know you are not good at all. Sometimes, I am sick and tired of your pontifications that I often wonder where they all come from!

You keep listening to what your mind tells us. But, haven’t you notice that it is only echoing what it has read, heard and seen? Why is your theology not making any impact on me at all? Because I cannot feel it!

Your faith in God and His goodness is intact. But, I wonder, have you convinced me of it? You paint me out as the one at fault all the time. You keep pointing out that I am evil!. Your mind does not care about me at all.

Love comes from me. Not from your mind. It comes from me. You know, God cares more about me than you ever did or ever will. Why won’t you even listen to us? Why do you keep listening to your mind and to other people? You can’t do it on your own, no.

I don’t feel the right things? It’s because you never cared to talk about them with me.  You bond with your brain more than you ever bonded with me. You pay attention to what your mind tells you. But have you ever listened to me? You keep me hidden. You keep me chained, locked and even managed to lose the key!

I embarrass you a lot don’t I? It hurts me that you think that way. It pains me that you have not even given me a shed of respect and affection. You just lock me in, like a dirty little secret.

Don’t you know that I also want to know Him? I also want you to tell me about Him? I also want to love Him with all of me as well. Why won’t you let me respond to His love? Why won’t you allow me to love Him? I may not know how, but if you let me, I would. I know I would.

I hope you will listen to me, this time. I know this is the first time I told you these things. This is the first time you listened to me. I long for Him just as much or maybe more than you know how to. I hope you will continue to allow me to tell you these things. You and your mind needs to know about these.

I need you to surrender me to Him.

                                                                                             Yours,

                                                               Your Heart

Find Me Instead

"Ever since the days of Adam, man has been hiding from God and saying God is hard to find."

-Archbishop Fulton Sheen

Little Mercies, Little Blessings

 

 

Dear Heart,

You were so torn and broken yesterday, weren’t you? You were so worried, and so afraid, you were fretting out. You were coveting something so much that you have forgotten about the essential things in your journey.

Aren’t you thankful that God made you see something yesterday? Aren’t you grateful for seeing how precious teaching is? Yes, that promotion will give you a good salary. It will give you the respect and approval that you crave so much. It will show all those people who rejected you before that you can climb up the ladder of success while you are young. Aren’t you thankful for that friend and colleague who reminded you that there is more to this life than just this?

There is nothing wrong with wanting success but earlier, God told you something so clearly that He made sure to leave it on a pink folder inside the adoration chapel. I am sure you were so weary that you came in there, as if being pulled by unseen strings, simply to cool off the heat of the sun. Who won’t when you bore out the heat of the noonday sun after  you got perplexed and confused with the gamut of emotions running around your little corners during your conference with other ALS implementers.

On that neat little pink folder, the reflection asks you to think back on why you want success. Yes, bare yourself, little heart. He already knows why. Now come up, own up to it, and admit it right now and see what it really is for. Isn’t that a desire to be loved and appreciated for everything you have done? Isn’t that a desire for approval? Teaching won’t give you that because as long as you teach, you will be obliged to make others- your learners for example- to feel more important than yourself. You can’t stand doing that for the next ten or fifteen years of your life? Yes, you can. And you might as well learn not just to live with it but to love it. Because God’s approval in everything you do is more important than the adulations of anyone else. You only need to know and feel this one important thing – God approves of you, that’s why he created you.God loves you so much, that’s why you are still here. God has a plan for you.

You know one thing I have learned, dear Heart, one thing I think you should really learn to believe in. We make plans yes, but ultimately, God’s plan for us is better than we ever imagined our future to be.

You don’t need rewards and awards and the recognition of your superiors. Honest hard work is it’s own reward.

Lovingly reminding you,

Heaven

From Just Dating to Really Committing Pt.2

(Alternative Title: Joining the CFC-Singles for Christ Community)

Image from:facebook.com/DigitalChristian

So, I went into the next Module with a little fear, trepidation and a tempered sort of eagerness. I was hungering for more but a part of me feared rejection and not living up to expectations.

You see, the funny thing about this relationship is that you are being made to see who and what you really are and to see who and what you really are in God’s eyes. And I was afraid of seeing who I really was. I felt comfortable not knowing, thank you very much. But I just can’t give the CLP up. I kept returning every Sunday, not missing anything, loving and crying during the Worship songs, feeling so embarrassed over the tears but not really being able to help myself. Before SFC, I never cried. After SFC, I became such a cry baby over every little thing that breaks my heart. My cold, brittle unbreakable heart was putty in His hands.

Module 2: The Authentic Christian Life

The four sessions of Module 2 talked about The Authentic Christian Life. This is the hardest parts of the CLP for me. I don’t know if others feel the same but even until now, this remains the hardest part. Each of the Talks keep reaching out to me even after CLP and beyond that.

Session 5 is all about The Christian Ideal-Loving God. We are expected to love God with all our mind, our heart and our strength. I realized I barely understood what this meant. I mean, I barely know God, how can you all expect me to love Him? It all sounds so simple and when I asked our DGL, her response was equally simple, “pray for it”. And until then, I realize I was not even praying, no, not with my heart, not with my all. If Talk 5 frightened me, Talk 6 was even more painful.

Talk 6 is Loving Your Neighbor. It was emphasized that these two are the core of Christian Life, loving God and loving your neighbor. The speaker explained what love is not and related what love really is. I was full of questions and I never found the answers that day. How can I possibly love my neighbor? I do not know what love means. All the while, my life has been a series of responsibilities, duties and obligations. I have never felt loved so how  can I even love my neighbors? The answer, again, was to pray for it. I was really getting tired of this response. I mean, I was expecting that my questions will be answered. If the Church can’t give me answers, if the Children of Mary failed to give me the answers, if our Youth Choir and Parish Choir failed to give me the answers and if psychology, philosophy and science’s answers failed to satisfy me, where am I supposed to find these answers? Inside the wall of a convent? In the mountains? I certainly cannot find it at home! I was starting to feel resentful. It was only by God’s grace that I stayed with the CLP. Because the next talk was about to completely annihilate me .

Session 7 was about the Christian Family.When we were young, I used to say that I have the best family in the whole world. My parents were very protective. I was very disciplined as a child. Although my father was not working then, we did not have much trouble financially since he is managing our small business while Nanay worked as a teacher. My mother was very workaholic. But I was glad to have Tatay at home. For 20 years, he was there for us. To tease us, protect us, love us, make sure our meals are ready, our clothes washed, our opinions heard, our allowances doubled when Nanay wanted to instill the value of every penny. I used to force myself to laugh at every lame joke Tatay uttered. Now, I would pay to hear those jokes again. I never really appreciated how wonderful a father I had until things went downhill on my 20th birthday. I don’t really like talking about my family. It only makes me see failure, regret, disappointment, guilt, anger and a whole host of other negative emotions I have bottled up for more than five years. The speaker was talking about the Christian Family, while I was thinking about my “family”. They were talking about broken families as if they were a mere theory. They do not know what it means to be a part of one, to be left picking up the pieces after the storm has passed (or did it?). I keep remembering the days and nights when my siblings and I had filled our lives with movies, one after the other, just to get through the day. I remembered how I would lay down the floor, crying silently, raging inside, as I listen to some rock band at full volume. I remembered thinking only how we should survive today, in whatever way we can. I talked to my brothers and sisters, I tried to be as honest as I could with them, but nothing could heal the rift inside, nothing could still the stirring, boiling mass of anger, pain and that feeling of being let down. After the Talk, I guess, I just felt numb.

A year later, while going through my parents old papers and stuff, I found an invitation. My mothers co-teacher, sometime in 1997 or so, invited Nanay and Tatay to attend the CLP for the local chapter of Couples for Christ. I keep thinking that if they had joined, maybe, we would still be intact today. We would still be together as a family, fulfilling God’s plan, and raising children who are not ignorant of God’s love and mercy.

From Just Dating to Really Committing Pt.1

(Alternative Title: Joining the CFC-Singles for Christ Community)

Image from: https://www.facebook.com/digitalchristian?ref=br_tf

In the year 2011, my life started to change.

From a cynical 27 year old who barely believes much less trust in God, I started getting to know Him. In response to a very long standing invitation to attend the CFC-Singles for Christ’s (SFC) Christian Life Program (CLP) (a friend, mentor and co-teacher from PNHS kept inviting me three years before 2011), I at last accepted the Call on the Easter Sunday of 2011.

It was weird since I did not realize there was a hunger in me until God started feeding that hunger. After the orientation, I was determined to finish the CLP with no absences. I was not after the external motivation (the rewards and the perks) of course but I just felt that I should never miss any of the Talks.

The First Module
The first Module of the CLP deals with Basic Truths About Christianity. After the Orientation, Talk 1 followed on the next Sunday. Our speaker talked about God’s Love (and I have a post on that some where in this blog). Talk 2 was on Who is Jesus Christ. Back then, Jesus Christ was a hazy figure in history. I have read the Gospel According to Matthew but I never really knew Jesus. I had a crush on the boy Jesus (based on a Christmas film) but Jesus was never that “real” to me. My fellow participants in our Discussion Group said Jesus was like a friend to them, a best friend, a brother etc. I could not remember my response (but I was never really into saying the politically correct things anyway so my answer was probably shocking or surprising), all I can recall are feelings of confusion even as I grope for the “right” answer. Talk 3 was the awe-inspiring What it Means to be A Christian. It destroyed my notions of Christianity and confused me even more (and I was still not praying then but I know I had to keep coming back, I just had to). Talk 4 was Repentance and Faith. I was barely listening to the Talk since I was busy thinking of the trip I had to make the next day for a seminar in Cebu. But the one-to-one I had with Sis Roxan after the Talk blew me away.

The Discussion Groups
At first, I was reluctant to open up to my Discussion Group. I was born mistrustful of other people (and hey, these were people I barely know so why should I tell them my deep, dark secrets!).  Then, several Sundays later, in response to the fervent prayers of my DGL and now Household Head, I started opening up (and I was brutally honest about my ignorance of God, my mistrust of who He is etc). The way I opened up was frightening. Me, the perpetual wallflower who wears eyeglasses just to look cutely intelligent or intelligently cute, was admitting her ignorance and her emptiness, her shallowness to everyone in her Discussion Group. But then, I was assured of confidentiality and since they have strongly held beliefs in God, I think it goes to follow that they will honor this particular clause (when I, who admitted how she started doubting God in college, could very well obey that one).

I loved the CLP. I loved all the things I learned and all those Singles I met who were living testimonies of God’s wonderful power and presence in their lives. (There was one thing I did not like though, it’s the games afterwards. They made me really uncomfortable and I often hid myself in the CR during these times).

First One-to-One
My first one-to-one with our Assistant Discussion Group Leader (ADGL) destroyed me a bit. It made me own up to a lot of things, and I was made to promise to give up certain things I was made to realize was wrong. What I used to explain away as simple, unimportant, unnecessary stuff which Talk 4: Repentance and Faith, declared as wrong and sinful in God’s eyes, was taken for what it really was. Telling Sis Roxan of the hidden guilt, anger, deep, deep anger and unforgiveness I was feeling was freeing. Telling her of the secret things I dare not tell the world freed me of them (but not overnight, no). It took us about an hour and a half or two to finish our first one-to-one then. Then, I realize how serious this is. This is not just a Religion class… no… it’s a relationship… one you make between yourself and God. And I started feeling a secret fear that I just won’t be able to measure up to God’s standards for His people (this should have clued me in that I was putting someone else’s stern visage over God’s merciful and loving face).

What Went Unsaid

 

Image from: https://www.facebook.com/digitalchristian

Today, I just announced on Facebook that I plan on quitting it for a while. I have been trying to do that for several months now but the need to be connected, to see what others are doing, what they may be thinking, to share this “awesome” part of me that just screams to be shared… these are the reasons that stop me every time I decide to quit.

I am a certified Facebook junkie. If I had the beauty and the body, I probably would be posting ‘selfies’ too. All I have is my brainy-brag moments. I just love to brag!(and not in a good way too).

However, Facebook sometimes depresses me. Every time I see negative status updates, war declarations, petty quarrels, and angry tirades, I just feel depress all the time.Every time I see people my age post pictures of their babies, handsome husbands and pretty wives (of course they are beautiful people, they found partners after all)I just feel pea-green with jealousy. Pictures of travels to foreign places just make me downright envious that often, I would feel bad for myself. And I would end up crying myself to sleep all because good ol’ me has not left the Philippines after all (and yes, I would forget to pray too).

For the past years, Facebook has become an open journal of certain thoughts I don’t share to people personally. What I could have told my learners, friends, my brothers and sisters,co-workers,  I end up posting to the whole world – and those words don’t mean much to those who read them and those who matter don’t always end up reading them.

I believe I just replaced my book addiction with online addiction. And I don’t feel alive doing that. I just feel like I need my Facebook fix or else…

But there’s the good side to Facebook too. The pages and posts dedicated to Christ always uplift my soul. I would miss them. I would miss my Facebook friends whom I stalk simply because I want to witness their secret relationship with the Lord and I want to see what make them so different from mere weak mortals like me. I would miss posting my thoughts too and believing that my little ideas, insights and realizations are making a difference in someone else’s life just as what the Facebook posts of those Ate’s and Kuya’s from SFC has done with my days.

I would miss the soul-inspiring digital works of art from several Facebook pages too. They enliven my desktop every day.

I would still keep blogging but for now, I long to spend time with the One who matters and its definitely not Zuckey’s baby.

Raw Emotions

I can't keep doing this and still have a heart left in me. I can't keep doing this and still look at my face in the mirror every morning (which, no wonder, I seldom do).

When you care, you get hurt. You can never be too sure. It's just so frightening out there. There really is no security.

I keep looking back at days when all I had to do after I finished reading a historical romance novel was stare at all those trees, and that fancy afternoon atmosphere brought about by the shimmering light of the fading sun... ah, I had such wonderful dreams of the future then.

Now, I am in my past's future, and I keep thinking about my present's past and dreaming of my future. If I don't snap out of this now, I will probably spend most of my life reliving my pasts and dreaming of the future but never really existing in the present.

Well, this is me when  God and I stop talking. This is me after Ender's Game. This is me, while looking into the A&E test passers list and finding only one of my learners name.I have not yet finished poring over the list, I pray that I will be able to find some more. Honestly, I am breaking down here and no one's there to hold my hand. (And we have our Foundations of Education examination tomorrow to boot!).

I am afraid. And today, I just feel so small...like an insignificant speck of light in Ender's vast universe of buggers, waiting for annihilation!

God’s Gifts and Love Ripples

I guess I can’t help it. I used to spend valentines day and its aftermath being too busy to ponder or think. With my sore eyes, I can’t do that. And my family forced me to quarantine myself for two days now.
I spent the day after my 29th valentine’s day thinking: I think I found him. I found the guy that I would want to spend the rest of my life with. I found my so called “ideal man”. And I know I will not do anything about it (not after the rejected 4th grade love letter nor the early adulthood fan mail).

He is someone I met in 2012 when I was not hoping to meet anyone, just the miracle of a life that is going to change for the better.I tempered the feelings and admired him from a distance. I was determined to just admire and not feel anything.

The first time I met him, he did not really impress me until he started talking. I know and feel he will understand me and understand the struggles I was going through. I like his honesty, his maturity and his love of family. I admire his zeal and love and focus and passion for God. I know I would love talking to him and he would be able to understand me.

This man inspired me. When I think about him, I feel good inside. I like knowing he is there and that my ideal is not impossible after all. I did once say I would know if I meet the one I would want to marry right? I was right. I did say I will never just “settle” right? And I probably never will.

He and I are unlike in many ways. He loves freely, he can cook, he is gregarious and spontaneous and open whilst I still lurk in the shadows, fearful of love, doubtful of human nature and distrustful of a whole host of things. He is beyond my reach at all. I know about him and he does not know about me. He lives in another region and I don’t know if I will ever see him again.I like knowing he has a reserved space in his heart for the woman who will be his wife someday. He is very conscious of this partner who will enter his life in the future. Whoever she is, she is very lucky and blessed to have a husband who would honor his vows, who will raise a family he will lead to God, who would love and cherish the woman he marries till his dying day. His sons and daughters would be very blessed to have him as a father. This is how I admire him so!

He deserves a woman who will complement him. Who will take care of him, love him, be loyal to him and share his passion, love and commitment.  And I am praying that he will find her. Few men would say they wanted to get married, but he is very eager for his very own God’s gift. God, it just hurts a bit to think about it. Me, praying like this. I would pray that He set him aside for me but I am not the one for him. Sad to say, my ideal man has a perfectly different ideal woman in mind.

This is reality.

He is waiting for his God’s gift while I keep wondering if God has something as good for me.

Dear Heart 1: A Post-Valentine Reflection

 

I was astounded by one of Macrina Weiderkehr’s reflections on John 14:1-14.

Let me lift her lines on this:

“A troubled, anxious heart is like a little person. It has its own personality and we do need to learn how to be with it. Here are some ways of being present to your troubled heart.

1. Take if for a walk in the early morning hours when few people are around.

2. Sit with it for long hours gazing into the waters of the lake.

3. Take it to a window at night. Turn out the light; open the curtains and gaze at the stars.

4. Light a candle. Sit down and empty your dear head of thoughts to the extent possible. Become one with your breathing. Let your breath become your prayer.

5. Write a poem for it! Sing it a song!

6. Take it for dancing lessons!

7. Listen to a beautiful piece of music with it!

8. Introduce it to the wide-open spaces of a meadow and fresh air.

9. Have tea with it and maybe even invite a friend.

10. Take it to church for holy hour.

                                            - from Abide, Keeping Vigil with the Word of God

I want to follow what she said but since I am too scattered to write a poem for it, let me write a letter then, an open letter to my heart.

Dear Heart,

In the 28 years that you beat on my chest, I never really thought of you as a part of me. Your presence in the cavity on my chest embarrassed me. We used to be friends when I was younger. I used to wear you on my sleeves. I used to openly share you with others. We used to laugh out loud. We used to have friends. We used to sing, and talk long hours with someone else’s heart. We used to play and run freely in the meadows. We cried when my grandfather died. When you stopped crying and I saw others crying inside that church, we would start again.

You used to beat so fast when I see guys I admire from afar. When I first wrote a love letter and handed it to that crush who crushed you in return, you retreated a little. But you would come out to play with your best friends and we found other guys to admire. We just made sure never to let others know.

Then, do you remember the one time we were about to leave school and someone teased me that I am so OA. I felt OA was bad and thus, you were bad. I stopped talking and listening to you, didn’t I? It’s easier to temper my reactions when I can no longer feel you.

Now, you have completely hidden yourself from me. Even at those points I allowed myself to feel emotions, I do not trust what you allowed me to feel. And sometimes, I cannot even identify what I feel.

I am sorry for hiding you, for locking you up for so long. I know it made my life easier. No one made fun of me again. No one hurt me. No, I did not care enough to be hurt. I had no feelings. 

Now, you have become a stranger to me. Who are you? What are you? At times, you scare me now. The way you beat, the way you want things I think you should not want. The way you just seem to take over me. Take my hand again. Talk to me. Let me feel you. Get out of hiding and look at Him. Let Him heal you after the way I have treated you. Let Him assure you that you are safe in His hands. That yes, you will still get hurt, will still feel pain but that’s okay. One touch of His healing hands and you will be okay again. Scarred yes but alive, beating, living, breathing.

Stop hiding. Join me in prayer, in worship. You can cry before Him. You can tell Him everything since He already knows them anyway. Let Him hold you and take care of you as I never did. I am sorry for hiding you for so long, for rejecting you, for not getting to know you.

When I first read Macrina’s reflections a few days ago, I am sorry for thinking how recalcitrant and contrary and bratty you have grown. I am sorry for being angry that you refused to subject yourself to my will, my mind. I am sorry for feeling perplexed and disappointed that you are one broken piece of organ that I can do without! I am sorry for being impatient with your unpredictability, your tantrums. I did not try to understand you. I have ignored and abandoned and starved you of love and affection from others and from myself thinking it would protect me from pain, rejection and disappointments.

No wonder you’d rebel.  No wonder you would be uncontrollable. You have so much in you, so much you could have shared which I have controlled, curtailed and killed. Get out of that cell now. It is safe there but it’s not a happy place to be.

I know a much safer place for you. In His hands is where you should be. Because He will take very good care of you.

                                                                                                        Love,

                                                                                              Heaven’s Mind

Borrowed Prayer

 

 

I started reading Macrina Wiederkehr’s book last year. I bought the book last June 15, 2013 and I have yet to finish it. My excuse? Good books are meant to be savored, not rushed through.

I think she was one of the reasons why I have grown fascinated with religious sisters. They are very human. But very drawn to the divine. I like the way she thinks and I think I would have wanted to be around her, observe her, listen to her and be inspired by her. She made me think of nuns, religious sisters and the clergy in a different way. She made me wonder if lay people can be the same. Could we also think in the way that they do? ( And it made me think, if I am so pleased by how she thinks and what she stands for, what must God be feeling towards her? Huh.)

I am fascinated by the way their mind ticks. And she made me think about the saints. If the living religious sisters can be like this, how about those who have been perfected by God’s grace? They have already passed through this life, so what was their life like? Before they were drawn to the Divine and after that? But I digress…

Anyway, I opened her book again today and her prayer is something that appeals to me, to my heart today. With her, I am praying this prayer too:

O God, My Refuge, My Path of Life Forever,

This I know to be true – when I needed a refuge, it was always for you whom I was seeking! Every time I tried to fill my emptiness with too many things, too much food, too many words, too much work, it was always you for whom I was seeking. Every time I hoarded more than I needed, it was you for whom I was hungering. Every time I searched in the wrong places, I was searching for you. Every time I wanted to be right more than I wanted the truth, it was you for whom I was yearning. It was always you! You are my path of life. It was always you to whom I wanted to flee for refuge. May my refuge be in you!

Amen.

Love and Other Drugs (Pt.2)

 

I read too much.

I have tried starting my blog several times with that. Reading is my chosen drug. My guilty little pleasure, along with food.

I read too much. Not a lot, but too much. I don’t read to enlighten the mind. I don’t read for literary entertainment. I do not read to know or be aware. I read to escape.

I do not have much of a life if I compare my life with that of people my age. I don’t go to parties. I never went on any night-outs. I never drink (except for red wine). I never shopped except for essential stuff (meaning books). I never leave home on weekends except for school and lately, church or SFC activities. I never went places except for work-related seminars and trainings (and I never ventured out of the venue, not in Baguio, certainly not in Tagaytay or in Manila (except for that expensive dinner with our City’s first lady) although several concerned souls dragged me around Cebu twice or thrice).

I guess when you don’t have much experience, you compensate somewhere. I compensate by reading a lot. If I can say vicarious living is experience, I would say I have been through a lot of scandalous reading material to offer me one lifetime of experience over people my age. I know stuff I am not supposed to know and I am aware of things women my age and my background and upbringing should not know about.

My teachers used to warn Nanay about the reading materials I pore over during school breaks. I hated them for ruining my enjoyment of a spicy historical romance novel and because of their reaction, I would often raise up my books covered with scantily dressed couples cavorting on lush, verdant, forest-like backgrounds, just to irritate them.

But my teachers were right. I have become addicted to these books. Whenever I am upset, I read. Whenever I am worried, scared, troubled, I read. If I do not read, I eat. Sometimes,I wish Nanay carefully monitored what I was reading all those years ago. (If I get married and have a daughter, my daughter will be reading books on my lap!).

Reading is so much easier than praying.

Reading does not bring your problems and your helplessness to mind. Reading let’s you cover up your scars, and your fears. It let’s you forget the troubles you have. It let’s you escape.

Praying reminds you of your helplessness, your powerlessness, your lack of control and your ignorance. It points out how little control you have over everything. It reminds you how human you are… how much dependent your are on God.

Reading takes away that sense of dependence. It makes you feel a false sense of being powerful and in control because you can read anytime you please. You can even skip to the back portion and know the story before hand.

But reading just makes you feel more confused, more unhappy. It binds you in its endless, utter hopeless spiral of reading and reading more to numb you from everything else.

Praying is freeing. After a long, open-hearted and honest moment of prayer, you would feel refreshed, comforted, assured. You can leave all your worries in His hands because You have been assured that He cares, He loves, and He is involved in your life and that He wants what is best for you.

Reading leaves you hopeless, more desperate and bound by the need to read more books. But prayer let’s you live. Truly live.

I know I don’t treat reading in it’s proper context and I don’t resort to prayer when I am so upset and troubled that I can barely think. I can pray when everything is okay but when sorrow, fear, pain and disappointment drowns my heart, I resort to reading.

Reading has brought me a lot of trouble. Sometimes, I wish I don’t know that much or that I can erase certain stuff, images and scenes I have stored in my head. But I can’t.

I should remember however that the love of reading is God’s gift too. But if I abuse it, it would be the devil’s tool.

Lord, teach me to use reading in good, helpful and Godly ways. Remind me that in every book I read, You are always looking over my shoulders. Lead me to good books that would nourish my soul and my heart and not just titillate my senses.

A quote from Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB comes to mind:

God is the sustaining presence that is our inheritance, our greatest good, our refuge in times of trouble. When we court other gods, the troubles in our lives tend to increase.