2-year old Isabel putting on make-up (picture blog)

2-year old Isabel checking out make-up









Isabel trying on blush

Isabel so engrossed and enjoying experimenting on make-up


The finished product!

answer to prayers

I used to wonder if God hears and answers every single one of my prayers and questions - if the road I was taking was indeed the one He meant for me to take or if His answer to my question was a “Yes” or a “No”, or if the decision I made was the right one.

A couple of weeks ago, I was invited by a friend to go to Mr. Ugot (or some mountain up north that sounds like it) on April 1, 2 and 3. I’ve never been there so I was really looking for an excuse to go. While still deciding on the invite, I bumped into a friend who also invited me to a recollection seminar on exactly the same dates. I was strongly inclined to accept the Mt. Ugot invitation. . . it was, after all, asked first. But then, my sister and bro-in-law gave me this book, “Go! You Are Sent” by Genie Summers. They actually bought several copies and asked the author to write a message/dedication in each book. In my book, Genie wrote, “To Maan, say ‘YES’ to Jesus!" So here I am, saying “Yes” to the recollection seminar.

Several months ago, while having a blogger’s block (something akin to writer’s block), I had one of my drama moments. While staring at the computer monitor, wondering how to make coherent all the thoughts swirling in my head, I asked God if there was any point to what I was doing. Is it all worth the effort? Is He pleased? Does anyone read my posts at all? (well… am grateful for the two or three who read them - one is my sister and the other, my bro-in-law hehehe). Then I received a text message from my cousin’s friend whom I haven’t seen in ages and who doesn’t even know of my blog posts. In her text she said, “We won’t always know who we inspire or who gets encouraged or are strengthened by our words. . . but keep doing them anyway.” So here I am, writing them anyway.

When my mom passed away over four years ago, I was lost, to say the least. I had built and planned my life with my mom right in the middle of it. So with her gone, I felt lost. Alone. Bitter. Angry. Hateful. Lonely. But mostly, I felt guilty – guilty for not taking better care of her. I'd pushed family and friends away, always finding an excuse not to see anyone. I appreciated and at the same time resented those friends who wouldn't take no for an answer. The guilt and anger went on for 3-years. . . then, I don’t know when or how, but a gentle sort of persuasion eased me away from my anger and a quiet calm enveloped me.

Though I was slowly regaining my trust and faith, my days still drifted and I still felt a bit lost and in need of healing. I had so many questions left unanswered and I wondered where my life was headed...until I received that e-mail that would soon turn my perspective around. I've often talked about that e-mail. This is how it came about.

It was end of January of 2010 and my contract (along with 300 other personnel) with NPC had just ended. I wanted that day remembered so I documented it and made my “One Day Journal”. I e-mailed it to only a handful of people – my sister and very few friends - who knew what the situation was. But there was this tiny "makulit" voice in my head telling me…pushing me… to send the journal to this one person who was to become my reluctant life mentor. We're not even friends, at least not in the traditional sense, and the only e-mails I had previously sent her were office-related. I hesitated...but, in the end, the voice won and I e-mailed her the journal. She sent me a very short e-mail that would create a ripple effect in my life. It read: "We are where we should be". And it was then I realized that Mom was also exactly where she should be - by God's side, happy, content, eternal.

That e-mail of a lesson has made me more accepting of my life’s realities and has made me appreciate and embrace life's moments - good and bad. So here I am, exactly where I should be, alone but lonely and angry no more; no longer adrift but still going with the flow, but not just any flow...am going with God's flow.

Yes, God hears and answers my prayers. I just have to open myself to Him. It may be hints of a whisper while in prayer. Or through family and friends and, yes, even strangers. He uses books (the Bible in particular) and has even gone hi-tech and "sosyal" and makes use of texts and e-mails and Facebook. His answer may be instantaneous or it may take a while. It has been said that God's answer may not just be a plain "Yes" or "No", it could also be . . . "Wait". So here I am, trusting Him while waiting for answers and for His plan for me to fully unfold.

birthday suprise

A few months ago, I celebrated my birthday. For the first time since Mom passed away, I felt giddy enough to remember and celebrate it. But I didn't want to just celebrate my birthday...I wanted to celebrate God's goodness.

So I thought of holding a party...a big one! With 200 guests, I was thinking. Well, I was expecting 200 - but lo and behold, I was to celebrate the party with a little less than 300 partygoers. The guests? They're the lolos and lolas at the Lualhati ng Maynila, the home for the aged in the Boystown complex in Marikina .

I had really expected to party with only around 200 oldies, which was still quite a humongous number for me. But 300? The number was enough to give me palpitations. I mean that's like holding a debut or wedding reception.

For the past 10 years or so, my sister, Miles, has been throwing celebrations at Lualhati in honor of our dad's birthday. And for the past 10 years, I had never gone with Miles (who usually went with Mom, when she was still around, and Ricky) to any of the parties because just the thought of being with lolos and lolas who were abandoned by their families tugged at my heart and brought me to tears. I had only given support either in cash or in gifts.

I had originally planned on celebrating merienda with them. But the administrator requested if we could have supper instead. Miles, who was doing all the talking, agreed readily and even asked if there was anything else the oldies needed. Safeguard soap, we were told. I think my sister got so excited and carried away and forgot that I WAS GOING TO SPEND FOR THIS PARTY AND NOT HEEEEER!!!

Celebrating with merienda even for such a large crowd of 300 guests was manageable for me. But supper? I agreed anyway but not without some degree of panic.

My mom's favorite caterer and I agreed on pancit (for long life, op kors!), fish fillet and pineapple chicken. I wanted to give more than just food though and thought of giving them their requested soap. But providing supper to 300 people already streeeeeetched my budget.

But God knows the desires of my heart and surprised me with these miracles:

Drinks. Darling couple, Baby and Mon, didn't just join in the celebration...they provided the juice drinks in the party. Wow! Yahoo!

Clothes. Sweethearts, Evy and Henry, gave a bunch of nice clothes for the lolas. Woopee!

Safeguard soap. Now this was tricky. I sorely wanted to give the lolos and lolas their requested soap. So I went to the supermarket and canvassed. As I stood by the soap section, I computed like mad at how much it would cost me to supply each one with soap. Php8,000.00!!! Sigh! I whispered a prayer "Lord, I want to but...?

Miles’ friends, Ethel, Rica and Cindy wanted to go and party with the oldies but couldn’t. Instead, they gave their gifts (cash) to the lolos and lolas totaling – you guessed it – Php8,000.00!!! The lolos and lolas got their soaps.

Party people. The party couldn’t have been fun or special without my family and friends who took time to be with these lolos and lolas. Miles and Ricky, who were familiar faces to the oldies, chatted with the lolos and lolas like they were family. My friends, Baby, Mon, Mela and Atty. Kristy also became surrogate families as they chatted and cheered and danced and sang with the oldies.

I had expected to leave depressed and sad. Instead, I left the place feeling like a star. . . a Star For No Reason. I have never been kissed and hugged so much in my life. Every kiss and hug and smile humbled and overwhelmed me. Tears welled in my eyes and it took a Herculean effort for me not to give in to the tears.

I had not really intended to write about my birthday celebration lest it be told that I’m a show off. But I can't help but show off. . . show off God’s goodness and love, that is. How can I not tell friends of His loving kindness? Of His provision and of His miracles and gifts?

The lolos and lolas I'm sure were overjoyed with the visit, the food, the gifts, the dancing and the singing. Me? I (and I feel certain my family and friends felt the same) went away the richer and more blessed for it. It was indeed a celebration. . . of life, God's love, goodness and grace.

God is good!

not young (Miss Saigon Part 2)

How others see us and how we see ourselves are entirely worlds apart. I never thought of myself as "not young" (I deleted "old" from my vocabulary, remember?). I don't mean I see myself as "young-looking" but I think of myself as young in terms of energy, health, style, dance moves, fashion sense, memory...ok, scrap that...eyesight, ok, scrap that, too…you know what I'm getting at. But a dose of reality is like a splash of cold water on the face...and lately, I've had my share of reality one too many, it's like taking a bath instead of a mere splash on the face.

I remember going through the stalls at Ben Thanh Market in Vietnam. I was already done with my shopping in the malls in the city and was just whiling away the time browsing through curious finds in the market before I leave for the airport for my flight home. The Vietnamese typically look like the Chinese or the Korean so I stood out like a sore thumb and the tinderas could spot me, a tourist, a mile away. Since I was done with my shopping and I thought that any additional items I'd buy would not possibly fit into my luggage, I was able to hold off the temptation to shop... until I passed by these tinderas who asked, "You from Manila? Pilipino?"

Surprised, I replied, "Yes. How can you tell?"

The tinderas answered, "Cos you're very pretty, miss!"

I bought several souvenir items and bags after that. I am such a pushover! A sucker! Uto-uto to the max! But it didn't matter to me that I was such a sucker - I felt like a "pretty miss" all the way home.

Home, however, was a different story. As soon as I stepped out of the terminal looking for the airport taxi, this guy called out to me, "Ale! Ale! Dito taxi. OFW ka?"

(Sigh) From "pretty miss" to "ale". What next - "Manang?" (So long I'm not called "P're") Nothing like being called "Ale" to remind me that I'm...not young.

New Year's Clean Up

It's taking me forever to write this blog entry. I started writing this post right after New Year's. I thought by now I'd be done with my New Year's clean up job along with this post. I'm almost (almost) done with the clean up job but anyone who cleans house would agree that it's never done! But it's actually the personal clean up that I'm really having trouble with.

As is the tradition in many Filipino households, me and my yayas tried cleaning the rooms (I occupy two) before the year ended to usher in the New Year. "Tried" here IS the operative word. I started the New Year clean up going through my closets and sorting my clothes, shoes, bags, etc. I found quite a number of shoes that I had forgotten I even owned. I tried on some of the shoes to see if they still "feet" (get it? feet? fit? corny?)... and they did! But it took me forever to decide which among my lovely sandals or precious pumps or ridiculously pricey boots I was going to say goodbye to. I wasn't keen on wearing those shoes anymore but I could not bring myself to part with them.

As I was taking a breather and staring at all the stuff I decided to give away, an epiphany (as one of my friends calls it) metaphoric of what I was doing dawned on me - I realized that, more important than the mess in my closets, it's the messes in my life that I should be ridding of.

So after everything (again, almost) has been sorted out and packed away, I sat down in front of my work desk, just staring into space, thinking of the "garbage" in my life that I have to let go of. I took a notepad and wrote down what I wanted thrown out of my life. I started with a short list. But as the days grew longer, so did my list. And just like garbage schemes all over, I sorted out my list into "NAKAKABULOK" and "DI NAKAKABULOK". Alas, every single "garbage" in my heart fell into the "NAKAKABULOK" kind. My sins, pains, fears, doubts, habits, anger, prejudices, resentments - these are the "garbage" eating away at my heart and weighing me down. These keep me from truly and fully loving my Father. These leave very little room for blessings to come in to my life.

It’s taking me forever to write this post …because I am learning that that’s how long it would probably take me to fully do away with all the “trash” in my life. Human as I am, my “trash” just keeps coming back to haunt me…taunt me…tempt me. But I ain’t givin’ up! I am praying for and counting on God's grace and mercy for it is by God’s grace – and only by God’s grace – will my heart be rid of these “garbage”. By God’s grace – and only by God’s grace – will I receive His abundant blessings and gifts in spite of, on top of, regardless of the many “garbage” in my heart.

storms

It was a Friday evening. I was in Ortigas on my way to my sister's house for the weekend. As I was waiting for taxi, rains started pouring down. Correction - super heavy rains hammered the streets and anything in between (like me). People rushed to find shelter. They were running from all directions and I thought to myself, "Why do people run in the rain (and risk slipping and falling over) when they're already soaked anyway?"

But I digress.

It was ok at first - I had a big umbrella with me and I thought this was my chance to get a cab while my other "taxi hailer-rivals" decided to wait for the rain to stop. Less than an hour passed and still no taxi. I was in and out of the waiting shed (shade? shed?) and I was drenched! Then I started to feel weepy as I felt cold, tired, alone, hungry and dejected.

I tried to summon all positive force I could muster. I prayed in between sniffs. I called on all the angels in the heavens. I recited my daily dose of philosophy, "I am exactly where I should be" like a mantra. I recalled all those entries in my Simple Joys journal. I looked around and saw smiles amidst the rains. Still…to no avail. Then I tried focusing on one thing positive - my umbrella- and I thought to myself, “At least I have this big umbrella if only to keep me from being fully soaked from head to toe.” I think the heavens knew that my thanks was less than half-hearted because as soon as I mouthed the words, I felt rain drop on my head. I looked up and there, right at the top notch of the umbrella, a speck of rainwater peeked down on me as if to say, “Here we come!”

“Waaaaah!”

My write-ups and talks about trust and faith and believing and perspective came to mind and I felt such a hypocrite for not living up to them. I’ve been in worse situations and I remember God reigning supreme and victorious. But I still felt defeated. I know that the blessings far and infinitely outweigh any heartache and storm and pain. I know the rains will not last. And yet…. The one-hour downpour overshadowed the blessings of the rest of the day. I was more upset for feeling bad and ungrateful than with getting stuck in Ortigas amidst heavy rains.

I carried for a few days that feeling of hypocrisy and wonder and guilt for my shakeable faith… until I got this email that said, “Here’s the truth: Sometimes, God will lead you into a storm. Because storms are good. Storms shake you. And shaking is good. Shaking takes away your pride. It forces you to grow. ”

It was then that I understood. I was becoming too comfortable. I’ve become complacent. I’ve stopped growing. This storm, trivial though it was, shook my complacency and challenged my faith. And I failed miserably. This was a small storm and I know that more storms, figurative and literal, bigger and stronger, will come my way.

I have to admit that I am afraid. Afraid of the storms that I may have to face. Afraid of the pains it will cost me. Afraid that my faith is not...would not be strong enough to battle the storms. But shakeable as my faith may be, I also know that the Lord will not lead me into any storm where He will not carry me through. My faith may be shakeable but His love for me...never! So I will hold on to that thought 'til the next storm(s).

funny thing(s) happened on the way to...

We Filipinos are a funny people. Really. We have to be the absolutely funniest people there is…well, as far as giving directions is concerned. If you haven’t tried asking for directions in Manila (or anywhere else in the Philippines for that matter), I strongly suggest you try getting lost (literally), just for the heck of it, and ask for directions to wherever. One or more, if not all, of these will happen:

- the Pinoy will look up/ahead, squint as if deep in thought, and after a few thoughtful moments, shrug or shake his head;

- the Pinoy will look up, north/south/east/wast, nod his head and pout his lips at that particular direction;

- the Pinoy will point a finger, with outstretched arms, in a certain direction and say, "dun" (there) without saying if it's 100 meters or 1 kilometers straight, left, right or two or so blocks "dun";

- the Pinoy will say "diretso lang" (straight ahead).

"Diretso lang" is my favorite so far. This funny thing happened on the way to Marriott Hotel in Pasay where Miles, Ricky, Isabel with Nana and I were to meet our "uncle" Jun whose family I stayed with while in Hawaii. We've never been to the Marriott Hotel and were not familiar with the area. So I asked around. The first people I asked all said the same thing - "dire-diretso lang".

I stared at them as if they were aliens and so they explained, this time much longer but nowhere clearer, "Edsa, diretso, u-turn, diretso uli, kaliwa, diretso uli, dun na!"

"Yeah."

So I asked another friend and he said the same thing, "Diretso lang"

"Huh?" I asked dumbfounded.

He repeated it, slowly this time as if this will make things clearer for me, "diiiireee-diiiirrretsooo laaaang."

"Oooo-kaaaay!"

So, armed with these useful information, my sister took the C5 Road (where C5 was, of course, nowhere in the directions given us) and we ended up right back in Edsa where she drove, like the directions said, straight ahead. She's so much more confident and better with directions so we finally get to the Marriott Hotel/Resorts World for some dinner and catching up with "uncle" Jun.

Dinner was great but it was finally time to go home. Ricky brought his own car so Miles and I (we forgot to ask Ricky for directions) were once again in wonder on how to get back where we came from. We asked the parking attendant how to get to Edsa. Before the attendant could even answer, I thought to myself , "Let me guess - diretso lang?"

And sure enough, he said, "Diretso lang, ma'am!"

Miles drove "diretso" for the first 200 meters, after which we came to a fork on the road. After careful studying and a few "enie-minie mo's", she took the road on the right and it was right! It was "diretso" going home from there.

Aren't we Filipinos just the funniest?