broken

In filling out personal forms, I write “S” under social status, meaning “Single”. Should I fill out such forms any time soon though, “S” would now mean an entirely different thing for me...”S” for Separated. Yes, I am separated...from my family, from my friends, from everyone and everything I love and know.

I have been in Iloilo, in my new job, for a couple of weeks now. And I AM excited about learning and doing something new. I AM eager to make new friends. I AM ready to try out a new life. But every night, at the strike of 6, I look up from my cubicle and find the other people from work rushing about, smiles on their faces knowing they’d be home soon to their families or to their friends for gimmicks. And me...well, I’d try to study more or get some work done, maybe ‘til 8 pm or later. Then I’d head to an empty, lifeless room.

Everybody says, “Sa umpisa lang yan!” I’m taking their word for it and assuring myself that it is. But nobody ever says how long “umpisa” is. Does “umpisa” last for 2 weeks? 4? 6 months? A year? Because I can’t wait for “umpisa” to be over and I’ll be counting the days ‘til then.

Don’t get me wrong . . . it has been fun and different. People are nice. Work has been occupying most of my waking time. And I’ve been an “uto-uto”, accepting hosting gigs here and there hehehe. But nights and weekends can be bad.

I was early to church this weekend for the Sunday Mass. I wasn’t sure of the Mass schedule so I thought I’d come early just in case Google was mistaken. Turns out, Google was spot on again. As I sat waiting for the Mass to begin, people in droves came in. These droves were either families or ‘kadas and I couldn’t help but feel alone and lonely. And grateful though as I am, try as I might to feel joyful and be in high spirits, I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t. I put on a friendly smile I did not feel. And I had to admit – upbeat and bubbly though I try to be, I am a broken spirit.

But my Father, being my Father, wouldn’t get me on that path for long. There, in the middle of the Mass,  I found myself staring at the big and strong and defeated and rejected Jesus that was His Son crucified.   His death IS the reason – the cause - for the celebration that IS the Holy Mass. Yes, WE CELEBRATE HIS SUFFERING AND DEATH! Because His death gave birth to our new life.

And so will I celebrate my broken spirit. So will I celebrate my weakness. So will I rejoice amidst this brokenness. For it is when I am weak that He is strong. I never really understood that line from a song – “let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich...” now, I guess, I know. It is now, when I am broken - when I have nothing and no one - that I feel His presence, His provision, His strength.

I WILL celebrate! My brokenness, my loneliness, my lack. Because I trust that this will give birth to something (or maybe someone wink wink) wonderful of a blessing!

In filling out personal forms, I write “S” under social status, meaning “Single”. Should I fill out such forms any day soon though, “S” would now mean an entirely different thing for me...”S” for Separated. Yes, I am separated...from my family, from my friends, from everyone and everything I love and know.

I have been in Iloilo, in my new job, for a couple of weeks now. And I AM excited about learning and doing something new. I AM eager to make new friends. I AM ready to try out a new life. But every night, at the strike of 6, I look up from my cubicle and find the other people from work rushing about, smiles on their faces knowing they’d be home soon to their families or to their friends for gimmicks. And me...well, I’d try to study more or get some work done, maybe ‘til 8 pm or later. Then I’d head to an empty, lifeless room.

Everybody says, “Sa umpisa lang yan!” I’m taking their word for it and assuring myself that it is. But nobody ever says how long “umpisa” is. Does “umpisa” last for 2 weeks? 4? 6 months? A year? Because I can’t wait for “umpisa” to be over and I’ll be counting the days ‘til then.

Don’t get me wrong . . . it has been fun and different. People are nice. Work has been occupying most of my waking time. And I’ve been an “uto-uto”, accepting hosting/singing/dancing gigs here and there hehehe. But nights and weekends can be bad.

I was early to church one weekend for the Sunday Mass. I wasn’t sure of the Mass schedule so I thought I’d come early just in case Google was mistaken. Turns out, Google was spot on again. As I sat waiting for the Mass to begin, people in droves came in. These droves were either families or ‘kadas and I couldn’t help but feel alone and lonely. And grateful though as I am, try as I might to feel joyful and be in high spirits, I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t. I put on a friendly smile I did not feel. And I had to admit – upbeat and bubbly though I try to be, I have the beginnings of a broken spirit.

But my Father, being my Father, wouldn’t get me on that path for long. There, in the middle of the Mass, big and strong and beaten and rejected was His Son, crucified. His death IS the reason – the cause - for the celebration that is the Holy Mass. WE CELEBRATE HIS SUFFERING AND DEATH! And I remember Bo Sanchez saying we celebrate Jesus’ death – the greatest tragedy - because from this came the greatest blessing, the greatest victory.

And so will I celebrate my broken spirit! So will I celebrate my weakness. So will I rejoice amidst this brokenness. For it is when I am weak that He is strong. I never really understood that line from a song – “let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich...” now, I guess, I know. It is now, when I am broken, when I have nothing and no one, that I feel His presence, His provision, His strength. He HAS time and again proven this...I just need reminding.

I WILL celebrate! My brokenness, my aloneness, my lack. Because I trust that from this will come something (or maybe someone wink wink) wonderful of a blessing!

bday (iloilo journal part 2)

Did you know that Iloilo City is tagged as the City of Love? I certainly didn't! It seems the word IloIlo was derived from ILOveILOve (or maybe this was something they made up) Hmmmm....

Anyway, you know how I welcomed my birthday? Well, November 19, around 9:30 pm, I was staring at my dirty clothes and decided I needed to do my laundry...only to realize I didn't know how! (Pathetic with a capital bold P!) So I googled how to go about the chore - washing cycle, fabric conditioner, and all. Close to midnight, I was done with the spin dryer and so I welcomed my bday hanging my laundry on the clothesline at the back of the guest house where I'm staying temporarily. . . only to be told by Manong Guard that it rained hard early in the morning! Do I even wash them again? No time to even think about it since I was going to be late for Mass. So I left the clothes still on the clothesline, thinking I'd deal with them when I get back.

So off I went to hear Mass at St. Clement's Church. It's a big, newish church with an amazing choir... I mean, if I was bulag, I'd fall in love with the male singers of the choir! But of course, no guy has yet topped my "ex-man"!

After Mass, I met with friends from the office to look for a place to stay. I found one - small but livable.

Then we commuted to SM City. Getting a jeepney or tricycle ride to anywhere here is, well, different. The jeep/taxi/tricycle terminals are called "parkingan". Vans or FX as we call them in Manila are called "Vhire". The tricycles have their routes and you get off at designated drop off points unlike in Manila where tricycles give a "door-to-door" service. So as i rode my first jeepney ride to SM City, I got to say my first Ilonggo (the correct term is Hiligaynon) line, "lugar lang" (meaning "dito lang" - i think).

I treated to lunch as a sort of "thank you" these two guy friends from the office for taking me apartment hunting and bringing me to the mall. Actually, one of the guys I've known for years in NPC and he's like a kuya to me. This other guy I asked out (see, I'm getting brave at these asking-guys-out thingy) is a training staff and has been real nice ever since I got here but is waaaaay too young and is like a young brother...in other words, harmless.

After lunch, I asked the young guy if he wanted to see this movie I wanted to see. I wanted a good laugh so we saw "Praybeyt Benjamin". I really had a good laugh more so because he treated me to the movies.

We separated ways at Gaisano since I had to look for stuff I would be needing for my new "home" - curtains, linen, etc.

I got back to the power plant complex around 7ish pm, wondering if the clothes have dried off or if I should do my laundry again. I went to the office first to drop off some stuff...and what do you know, it's now after 9 pm and I'm still in the office since it's been raining real hard since I got here (outpouring of blessings, I guess). My clothes!

Goodness! My bday started with laundry and I guess I'm going to end it doing laundry...again!

Iloilo journal

I'm trying to "journalize" my first few days here in Iloilo and in my new work, so here goes (first 4 days- Nov 16-19):

The power plant complex (which houses 2 plants - diesel and coal-fired) is ok naman. Since the office is within the plant complex, I'm issued my own hard hat, safety shoes (skechers), safety glasses, earplugs, etc. I hope I don't have to wear them - wa poise noh!

The people are friendly. I've been making chika with the training staff (a young guy) and the exec asst to the VP na girl who are both mabait! Super bait talaga si Bro kasi there's this IMS manager from Cebu office who's been real nice, sobra. Parang "ate" sya and so funny pa. Pero balik muna sya Cebu e kasi naga-audit lang sya dito but she'll be back. Kaya may "ate" ako dito, for awhile at least.

I want to learn ilonggo. Sabi nila, dapat daw madilaan ako para mas madali akong matuto. So ngayon nagpapahanap ako ng didila sa akin and not the "pwera-usog" na pag dila ha. The full monty ang gusto ko.

I'm billeted for 2 weeks sa guest house within the power plant (sabi ko when I arrived na I'm not a guest so dapat sa staff house ako). Sobra bait ng nag-arrange kasi I love the amenities that I have in my room. Bait talaga ni God!

Am impressed with their computer system/IT here - hi-tech! or baka sobrang low-tech lang sa NPC.

Pero much has to be said about the work flow or system or baka ganito lang talaga sa private, mabibilis ang pangyayayri - email trail lang, pde ng authorization/approving document. Kasi when I was Oh-I-See, I was looking for approvals (hard copy na signed docs) before endorsing trainings, participants and the expenses, pero apparently ok na pala yung email from a VP that says, "hope you can attend."

Pinoproblema ko ngayon ang paglalaba.... di ako marunong! (pathetic). Sa guest house, may washing machine and ang alam kong washer ay yung sa states na isalpak lang ay wait na lang for the beep. At sanay din ako sa "Carol, paki-labhan na 'to, please" hehehe Kya gusto ko na ring makanap ng own place ko so I can find a laundry place.

Isa ko pang pino-problema...ang Christmas party theme is Hollywood - Red Carpet. So bonggang naka-gown ang mga girlash ditech! Kausap ko kasi minsan yung mga managers when they mentioned THE event. Apparently it's a big thing here. Haay! what to wear? Magmumukha na naman akong bading nito!

So far - emcee ako on their Fireworks Olympics, member of the choir, bowling team (daw), taebo class (may crush sa 'kin yung bading na instructor - nag ilusyon na naman ako! at sa bading na naman! ano ba yan? mag-iilusyon na lang di na gwapo at bading pa!!!)

And of course, of all things, na-dead si Sam... as in si Sam J. Sung. siguro na overcharge ko. And my warranty is in Manila. Adventure talaga!!! Nandun ang Iloilo contacts ko so pag nawala ako...If you don't hear from me in a week, call the marines! Buti na lang may back-up fone ako pero i didn't bring that to be used as fone- TV ang habol ko sa kanya kaya ang sakit sa ulo gamitin.

Oh Man! (conquering fear part 2)

I asked him out! For the first freakin' time in my life, I asked a man out! Oh sure, I've asked male friends to go out for whatnot but these were friends, "walang malisya" so to speak. This guy, however . . . We've known each other way back but we weren't friends. We had mutual friends. We sometimes talk though and so that was how it happened . . .

I was pacing by the window, fidgeting, looking out and wondering if I should do it. I have been meaning to, for days now . . . 137 days to be exact. This was not me. This would be so uncharacteristic of me. Unfamiliar. I'm not one to gamble with matters of the heart. At least I WAS not. But I did it anyway.

I called him up, "Hey, it's Maan. I need to ask something. Can I see you?"

Him, "Hey, what is it?"

With heart pounding like mad, I said, "Uhhh...I can't tell you over the phone."

Him, "Ok. Come on over."

As I prepared to go over his place, I put on some powder and some lipstick, thinking these would mask the nervous wreck that I was. As I neared his place, I squared my shoulders and strode with steps of confidence I did not feel. I knocked on his door and peeped in. My heart gave loud thumps and I wondered if he could actually hear the thudding.

He let me in and for the first time, I realized that my plans didn't go as far as actually asking him out. Picking up the phone to tell him I had something to say was as far as my plans went. So...

"Hey, What's up?" he asked.

I looked at him with a silly smile on my face,"Uhhh...."

As he waited with a look of wonder, I decided to just plunge right in, "I'd like to invite you out...coffee maybe."

He looked dumbfounded AND amused. I caught him off guard. Heck, I caught myself off guard. It took him a few seconds to let the words sink in but it had seemed forever to me...forever wondering what he was going to say.

Finally, he said, with an amused smile on his face, “Sure! Where? When? Next week would a good time for me.”

“Sure” I said flippantly, as if this was a thing I do all the time.

“I’ll text you,” he said.

THAT was 3 weeks ago! And we haven’t gone out for coffee nor has he texted, not even to tell me that he CAN’T or WON’T make it or DON’T want to do it at all.

Oh please, don’t give me that pity look… it’s ok. Really. It is.

NO.

TRUTH BE TOLD, IT’S NOT OK!

IT HURT! IT'S EMBARRASSING! I FEEL FOOLISH! I FEEL REJECTED!

But what was more embarrassing, what was more foolish was the realization that I have been doing this (rejection) to the one being who should matter.

I went to hear Mass with this guy’s rejection in mind. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it but I just couldn’t get it off my head. So I was distracted the whole time I was in church. This little boy and his sister sitting beside me were so makulit they were starting to piss me off. The baby’s cries at the back of the church irked me. The mother at the far end of the pew trying to hush her children was making more noise than her kids. Everything just seemed to be getting at me when normally I just let such things be and not let these get to me.

In exasperation, I looked up at the crucified Christ to ask for focus and patience when all I saw, and all the world to see, was my rejection of Him.

I stared at Him for long moments. I could actually feel His fatherly smile at me when I heard Him in my heart say, “Now you know how I feel.”

I should feel rejected? When I could not even count the number of times I have rejected my Father when I have been called to service? How many times have I been asked to spread His love and I said “NO”? How many times have I looked at someone with prejudice in my eyes? How many times have I thought of someone as less worthy of my trust? How many times have someone reached out to me and I have not bothered at all? How many times have I turned a blind eye and not “see” the helpless? How many excuses have I made to Him and said I can’t?

Countless.

I have been rejected once and I go ballistic! My Father has been rejected more times than the stars number in the sky. Yet, here He is, blessing me, loving me, healing me.

Yes, I do and should feel embarrassed. Yes, I do and should feel foolish. For hurting and rejecting the one and only being who would never hurt or reject me.

another round of toddler moments

My almost three-year old niece Isabel was playing with this musical-dancing-bump around bumblebee when the bee's noise and dancing stopped. We looked at Isabel to see what happened and mommy and ninang saw her holding what seemed to be a broken/chipped battery cover of the bumblebee.

We asked, "What happened, Isabel?"

Isabel answered, "It broke"

Mommy asked, "Who broke it? Isabel broke it?"

Isabel paused as if thinking, then said, "Only my foot!"

So hindi lahat fault ni Isabel, foot lang nya...ahhh!
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Isabel, after eating chocolates from her trick-or-treat loot bags, hugged me and said, "You're my best friend, Ninang!"

"Awwww" I said, until I realized she wiped her chocolate-soiled hands on my shirt while she hugged me.

Bespren nga!
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Isabel almost always wakes up with a smile on her face. Sometimes she'd smile and give a bear hug. One time, mommy Miles and me were watching over Isabel while she took her afternoon nap. When she woke up and found us with her, she smiled, hugged us and said, "Love you Mommy! Love you Ninang!"

Awww! Melted my heart!

Sometimes, though, she'd wake up, smile at her Mom or Dad and say, "SM!"

Shopaholic in the making!

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I call my sister's house the House of Affirmation and Positivity. Everyone and everything is affirmed or thanked for. You open a door, they say "thank you", pick up litter, "thank you", turn on/off light, "thank you". Food on the table, someone says "yummy. Thank you!". Isabel packing away her stuff, "Good job".

And this Isabel picked up early.

She loves coloring or drawing or painting. One time, after putting on paint on a drawing, she said, "Ninang, your turn."

After I've splashed some colors on a flower drawing, Isabel said, "That's lovely, Ninang! Great job!"

"Thank you, Isabel!"

One time, Isabel was singing nursery rhymes learned from her class at Little Gym. After finishing the new song from class, mommy clapped her hands, hooted and said, "Great job, Isabel! That was good! Real nice!"

And with a flip of one hand, Isabel said, "Awwww, shucks!"

Shucks? She didn't hear that from me, mommy!
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One time, as I helped prepare Isabel for a bath, she gave me a slight hug and said, "Big tummy, Ninang!"

As her mommy Miles walked into the bathroom, I asked Isabel, "What about mommy's tummy? Is it big?"

Isabel took a moment to look at her mom with her 8-month preggy belly and said, "Mommy's tummy huge! It's like mountain!"

You got that right, Isabel!
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While mommy Miles was sorting through Isabel's toys to choose which ones to give away, Isabel looked around and said, "Mommy, look at the ness! It's nessy!

Mommy corrected her and said, "It's mess, anak! Messy! Not nessy"

Isabel insisted it's "Ness! Nessy!"

And so they went, "Anak, say mes-sy!" "Nessy!" "Messy!" "Nessy!" "Messy!"
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As dogs were featured in a show on Baby TV, Isabel suddenly stood up from where she was sitting and began singing (with matching sway of the body), "B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his NEMO!"

Isabel, it's "name-o". Naging fish tuloy si Bingo!

My First Time (conquering fear part 3)

This year I've been on a mission. It has been about conquering...conquering my fears, my inhibitions, my hang-ups. So . . .

His name was Francis and we hadn't known each other long. But I trusted him. We had mutual friends and I've only been hearing good things about him. So armed with this new "Why not!" attitude I've recently adapted, I told myself, "Yeah! Why indeed not!?!" and agreed to meet up with him.

As I entered the 24th floor room overlooking the vast expanse of Ortigas, I hardly noticed the view nor the furniture as I moved around, restless, uneasy, not knowing really what to expect or how things would begin. We made small talk about little mundane things of everyday life. He held my hand while we talked, feeling, holding, touching. Then he went to another room to get his "stuff". As soon as he got back, I was made to lie down.

More restless and uneasy than ever, I sat for long moments making more small talk, stretching time. Then it WAS time. I lay down on my back. He started feeling his way up - my legs, my arms... My hair ruffled in his hands. This went on for what seemed like hours but what could actually be only short minutes.

Then it happened. I felt first some poking before the first thrust of it. I held my breath. I had too. I closed my eyes for mere seconds. He asked me how I was feeling. I couldn't really explain . . . I felt a bit of pricking pain, fleeting pain. Then some numbness and yet there was some sensation to it. And, of course, the heaviness of it. There seemed to be an electrifying feeling to it and I asked, "Should this be how I should be feeling?"

He looked down at me, and with a hint of a knowing smile, said, “Yeah”.

“There’s tension in your muscles. Relax!” he further said.

So I did. And it did feel better, easier, more comfortable. The soreness was still there but it slowly abated as I succumbed to the sensation.

This went on for what felt like eternity but as I took a glance at the nearby clock, I couldn't believe that it had gone on for only a fraction of an hour. And then, like all things, what has begun, must end. All too soon, it seemed.

I lay down for some more moments, taking in everything that had happened.

As I sat up and fixed my clothes, we talked for awhile and agreed to meet again. I don't know...

As I went down that tower of a building, I felt light and I couldn't help but smile and think, "So that's what an acupuncture session is all about! Wow! I survived. I guess there was nothing to be scared of in the first place. Yeah. . . maybe I WILL come back for more after all!"

snapshots of faith (conquering fear part 1)

I'm afraid to fly, and I don't know why. I'm jealous of the people who are not afraid to die. It's just that I recall, back when I was small. Someone promised that they'd catch me but then they'd let me fall...

Oh wait, those are lines from a song (aaaadmit it...you were singin'...at nabitin ka!)

The lyrics seem to be the very words I've held onto except it's not flying I'm afraid of, it's the water, particularly big bodies of water like the ocean or a long flowing river simply because they're predictably unpredictable. And like the song, I recall those many times when I tried to learn how to swim. I could feel my heart jump to 200 beats per second (OA!) and I'd go into a state of frantic. And as I panic, I go down and pull down everything and everyone around me. My swimming "teachers" (including my dad) all but gave up on me. I gave up on me.

But I've been on a mission - to meet my fears head on!

So, as my girlfriends, Mela and Kristy, and I packed our stuff (including a fuchsia umbrella) and flew to Cagayan de Oro, I felt my heart pound every time I thought of the white water rafting adventure we'd scheduled. Ziplining, spelunking (with some minor planking) and walking on hanging bridges merely distracted me from my fears. It did not help that Kristy kept recalling the time she went rafting and their boat capsized not once, not twice but THREE...yes, THREE times!

My friends were considerate of my fears and had ourselves booked to take the beginner's course. But I knew they were itching to take the advanced rafting course which involves some large waves (21 in all), rocks, considerable drop and sharp maneuvers. And would take roughly four to five hours to complete.

I took another step to meeting my fears - I agreed to take the advanced whitewater experience.

As the cute raft guide gave out tips and instructions on what to do in case we fell overboard, I could not hear, much less understand him. I got stuck at “overboard” as my heart pounded in my ears.

I hang back as Mela and Kristy boarded our raft. I kept thinking, “Four hours in the water? Rough waters? Will there be a way to stop or go back in case…?”

Then I heard a distinct whisper. Loud and clear. “Trust your equipment.”

So in I went on our raft, sat on the sides and looked around for the “equipment”. With just a paddle in hand, I asked God, “What EQUIPMENT? WHAT EQUIPMEEEEENT?”

Before panic could set in, we were moving along and onto what I thought was our first rapid encounter, only to be told that the waves were not counted and were merely called JJ waves…JJ as in “joke joke” waves. These waves were just joke joke? To me they were MM waves already…MM as in major major!

As we rode the waves, paddled forward and backward, got splashed on and fell on our rafts (not overboard, thank God!), and embraced the raft guide (at least Kristy did) for balance, I finally knew what “equipment” God whispered to me about. It was my faith…I was equipped with faith enough to take steps to conquer my fears. I was equipped with His fatherly love and the knowledge that He will take care of me, of us. I was equipped with trust that I am exactly where I am meant to be…braving the rough waters and facing my fears. And I was equipped with friends who’d jump in with and for me.

A friend once asked what faith is. I could not explain it to her. Now, I can show her not with words but with snapshots of me trusting God, of me believing that He can and He did and will forever pull me through my “rough waters”.

children's quotes and thoughts

Kids (in general, not my kids- hehehe) are my stress relievers. They have a way of putting a smile on my face and sunshine on an otherwise gloomy day. Am sharing some of the funny quotes i've come across. Enjoy!

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Aldrien (age 7) and Alekk (age 9) witty quips

While trying to open Cebu Pacific's site for its promo fares:
Alekk : Let's go to Japan! Japan! Japan!
Daddy Armand: Taiwan. We don't need a visa coz we have US visas.
Mommy Lisa: Singapore?
Aldrien: Let's go to McDonalds!

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While mommy Lisa was explaining analogies to 9-year old Alekk (tidy is to neat as right is to correct...), 7-year old Aldrien proudly butts in: "Oh, we're doing something like that in school! We're doing cinnamons!" (Uhhhh... anak, I think you mean synonyms.)

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While reviewing for filipino exams:
Mommy Lisa: dalaga means a young lady who's not married.
Alekk : a virgin?
took me a while before i could reply: ummm... yes...sometimes....

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While doing math problems...
Mommy Lisa: What does mas mura mean?
Aldrien: Cheaper!
Me: Good! Now what does mas mahal mean?
Aldrien: Hmmm.... more loving? (then proceeds to hug me!)
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Aldrien & Roman numerals...
Lola: What's III?
Aldrien: Three!
Lola: VI?
Aldrien: Six!
Lola: XL?
Aldrien (after a short pause): Extra large?

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Children’s perspective –

On when should be your 1^st kiss

Pam 6 – when they’re rich

Kurt 7 – the law says you have be 18 so I wouldn’t want to mess with that

On People in love
Brad 8 – people love just stare at each other and let the food get cold…other people care more about the food

How can you tell if two people are married?
Derrick 9 - You might have to guess based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids

How will you make the marriage work?

Roger 6- Don’t forget the wife’s name, that will mess it up

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Classroom question and answer

Teacher: Maria, go to the map and find North America.

Maria: Here it is

Teacher: Correct. Now class, who discovered America?

Class: Maria

Mom: John, why are you doing your math multiplication on the floor:

John: You told me to do it without using tables

Teacher: Glenn, how do you spell “crocodile?”

Glenn: K-R-O-K-O-D-I-A-L

Teacher: No, that’s wrong.

Glenn: Maybe it is wrong, but you asked me how I spell it.

Teacher: Donald, what is the chemical formula for water?

Donald: H I J K L M N O

Teacher: What are you talking about?

Donald: Yesterday you said it’s H to O

Teacher: Millie, give me a sentence starting with “I”

Millie: I is . . .

Teacher: No, Millie…always say, “I am…”

Millie: All right…”I am the ninth letter of the alphabet.”

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Kids' quotes

"Never trust a dog to watch your food." -Patrick, age 10

"Never tell your Mom her diet's not working." -Michael, age 14

"Stay away from prunes." -Randy, age 9

"When your Mom is mad at your dad, don't let her brush your hair." -Taylia, age 11

"A puppy always has bad breath--even after eating a Tic-Tac." - Andrew, age 9

some more toddler moments

My two-year old niece, Isabel, can be a handful sometimes (well, ok, most of the time). She's just full of energy and makes full use of the skills and lessons learned at li'l gym. So it's a wonderful kind of exercise to be running around trying to match her energy and tumbling exercises.

But she can also be the sweetest girl there is.

One time while watching cartoons with her mom, she turns and looks at her mom, says, "You're the best mom there is!" and gives the tightest hug.

Awwww! Wouldn't that just melt your heart?

One other time, she was playing with her toy cellphone. As she was "dialing up", her mom, Miles, asked, "Who are you calling?"

Isabel answered, "Aunty Ninang"

Mommy Miles asked, "What are going to say to her?"

Isabel, with the cellphone cradled to her ear as if talking to someone on the other end, said, "Thank you gifts, Ninang!"

Awwww!

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Isabel is not just sweet, she's also very smart (no bias her hehehe).

During typhoon Pedring, their new house was not spared of the typhoon's cruel lashing as water seeped in through the second floor windows. As we were discussing the hundred and one ways to solve the leak, Isabel runs to the kitchen, opens a cabinet drawer and takes out an item from it. She rushes back to her mom and with outstretched arms she hands over the scotch tape and says, "Put tape!"

Oo nga naman!

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Me: What's your name?

Isabel (she used to say, "Baby"): Isabel

Me: When is your birthday?

Isabel: Sesember (December) 10

Me: How old are you?

Isabel (in a loud animated proud voice): TWO!

Me: How are you, Isabel?

Isabel (in a loud animated proud voice): THREE!


Ayos!

"enemies"

I love my "enemies"! Truly! Ask me why (admit it, you did say "why?", didn't you? hehehe).

Because they bring me to my knees to pray....Ok, not necessarily on my knees but they certainly make me call on to my God.

Take for instance this girl i know in the office. Let's call her by her real name, "N". She is someone I had an instant dislike to (and I think the feeling is mutual). I've known her for many many years and when I see her, my teeth go into a grind, my insides twist in a knot and I feel a migraine come on - all at the same time! Then I breathe a prayer, "Oh, dear Lord!"

I don’t like who I become when I see her so I try to get out of her way. But the thing is I have to deal with her on occasion. My boss, who likes to torment and tease me, would deliberately seek me out to ask me to talk to "N" for even the most mundane of tasks such as ask for the schedule of a meeting…just so she (my boss) can annoy the living daylights out of me. And every single time I go to “N” or talk to her on the phone, I take a deep breath, close my eyes and whisper, “Oh Lord, please let her not be in the office.” ;-)

“N” is a cross…my cross. It may be light and a non-issue and irrelevant to you but a cross to me just the same.

Many times you and I are faced with our crosses - people who look or talk down on us, lie to us, reject our offer of friendship, discourage us, cheat us, betray our trust, or break our hearts. A hundred different sizes and shapes our “enemies” come. And try as we might to avoid our “enemies”, more often than not, God puts us right in front of them to challenge our resolve to “forgive those who trespass against us” and for us to bear our crosses.

Just recently, I thought I’d give God a gift from the heart. Something tangible. Something unusual of me. Something maybe even courageous. So I decided to “make peace” with “N”. As I made every argument against it, I found myself staring in the mirror and there I found the real “enemy” – myself.

“Making peace” with “N” was taking every effort out of me because I realized that the battle was not with her. The battle was with my pride. It took much out of me to even consider the possibility that I may be wrong about her. It took much out of me to consider that maybe she IS nice. After all, I have absolutely no idea the struggles she's been through or the life she’s had.

Sometimes the "enemy" isn't the other person...sometimes it's the one staring back in the mirror. Sometimes it's not the other person that needs changing...sometimes it’s my viewpoint, my attitude that needs the greatest changing.

Gripped with this new insight, I asked God for courage and humility. I grabbed the phone before I lost my nerve and called up “N” and thanked her for the help she has extended in the past. We made some more small talk as this unusual turn of events unfolded.

I love my “enemies”. Ask me why. Because my “enemies” have made me turn and run to God’s comforting and loving embrace. Because they're God's sculpting/art tools as He molds and etches and carves and hammers out and transforms the hardened me into His beautiful creation.

As I offered my gift to God, I felt a rush of peace and joy and forgiveness envelope me…and it was then I realized that my gift IS His blessing, His gift to me.