Promises

God has a way of snapping me out of the blues and putting my views into perspective. Many a ways my Father talks to me – while in prayer, in books, mentors, friends, a song, a smile, an e-mail, even in an overheard conversation.

Recently, I was appointed to lead in preparing/organizing a recollection-seminar for our parish. The limited time, zero starting fund, lack of manpower and the dismal number of recruits for the seminar were making me angsty. I was beginning to have major, major doubts – on God’s purpose for putting me in such position, our efforts, our abilities, my trust. I never showed nor said any of my doubts to my members so I carried my frustrations by myself.

During our recruitment drive in church on one gloomy Sunday afternoon, I was manning our seminar registration table. Beside our table was a booth selling cds of the compilation of talks by a young inspiring priest named Father Jeffrey. The booth was a bit frenzied with people asking for signed copies of their cds.

I wasn't in the mood to join their frenzy. I felt just as gloomy as the weather. I was ready to call it quits. Things were not going well with our recruitment and our food sales fundraiser was put on halt. Then I heard a tiny voice amidst the loud crowd milling by the cd booth. A boy of about 7 or 8 was calling out and trying to get the attention of the young priest. "Father! Father! Bless mo ko!" the boy said animatedly.

Father Jeffrey looked up at this chirpy little boy, smiled at him and tousled his hair in greeting and blessing. The boy excitedly called out and ran to his mom and pulled her happily along to where Fr. Jeffrey was signing cd jackets. I looked at the mother who donned a smile so lovely and contagious as if telling the world she had no worries at all. The boy, with his mother in tow, said casually to the priest , "Father, may sakit ako. Bless mo ko?"

"Anong sakit mo?" asked Fr. Jeffrey

"Leukemia" the boy replied.

It was only then that I straightened from my seat to take a good look at the boy. He was wearing a surgical mask that covered half his face. But he was so happy. I saw happiness in his eyes. It broke my heart. I felt like crying but choked back the tears. The priest and the boy talked for a while, both seemingly in awe and wonder of each other. I couldn't hear the rest of their conversation - maybe I wasn't meant to hear any further. Maybe I was only meant to hear that short exchange.

The boy. His sickness. His smile. The mother's smile. These certainly put things into perspective. I was put to shame as I dared to answer, "And you say you have problems?"

I closed my eyes for a moment and said a short prayer for the boy...and for forgiveness. I once again allowed my struggles to overshadow God's countless blessings. Me of little faith. Me of little thanks. I recall reading this quote: “God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, grace for the trials comfort for the tears, help from above, light for the way and undying love”

Yes, there would be pain. There would be sorrow and rain. But He promised to give strength, grace, comfort, help, light and love. Am banking on His promises.

a mother's love

A mother's love is a force of nature to be reckoned with. It is unparalleled. Unequaled. Unbreakable. Beyond measure. And sometimes oh so funny.

I remember my first trip to the US of A many years back. I was in my early 20s and it was my first travel outside the country. My sister and mom had had their taste of vacation in the US and in Asia so I fully trusted whatever tips they had to give. No prodding or asking was necessary as far as my mom was concerned. She’d give her two cents’ worth of advice whether you liked it or not. And in my ignoramus state (as far as foreign travel), I hang on to my mom’s traveling tips as if it was a life saver.

My mom had all sorts of tips from luggage to clothes to food to money saving and what-have-yous. One of her very first and non-negotiable tips she insisted on was this: “buy panties with zippered pockets”.

I looked at her wide-eyed with disbelief. “MAY GANUN?” Apparently, there are. Granny panties with zippered pockets in front. Gosh! “What in the world do I need these for?” I asked.

Heaving a sigh of exasperation, my mom explained, “What else?” she started, “To put your dollars in.”

“HUWAAAT?” I exclaimed, still not believing she’d make my buy these granny panties. . . or worse, make me put my traveling money in them.

She did though… she made me buy the granny panties - five pairs in all, one for each day of the week. “Yipee!” I thought, “I’d get to wear regular panties on weekends!”. In case you’re wondering, I had them in black, white and pink. Let me ask something though - what’s worse than putting your dollars in your granny panties? It’s wrapping your dollars tight in a colorful, flower- embroidered handkerchief, that’s what! This surely gave a new meaning to the term “pocket money”.

I knew she just meant well, but “No way”, I thought. So being the obedient daughter that I was not, it was such a surprise that I gave in and wrapped my pocket money in a handkerchief and placed it in my granny panties. I did it to please her…hmmm, no, not really. I did it ‘coz I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it. So off to the airport I went with my pocket money, all intact and safe in the zippered pocket of my granny panties. It’s a wonder my jeans fit me at all.

It was a long travel and the “stash” kept poking my belly. So, while on board the plane en route to the US, I decided to take my pocket money out of its hiding place and put it in my jean pocket.

Good thing I placed my “stash” in my jean pocket – the Immigration Officer at the San Francisco airport asked me how much money I was bringing in and asked me to show it to her. “Whew” I let out a sigh of relief. But as I dug in my pocket I realized one thing – my “stash” was still wrapped tight in the hanky! In double knots at that! As I tried to loosen the knots, the Officer and those in line behind me looked curiously on. It was embarrassing, to say the least! So finally I was able to take the money out of the wrap and show it to the Officer. I moved out of the line and moved on with my life...my funny life with my mom.

I miss my mom terribly - her strange show of love and her out-of-this-world bits of advice.

Yes - a mother's love is a force to reckon with. Unparalleled. Unequaled. And sometimes oh so funny (or maybe it's just my mother's love that is sometimes funny).

if only...at least

It has been sometime since that historic day. That day seemed like any typical uneventful Friday . . . until we learned of the earthquake and the tsunami tragedies that befell Japan. We were in the middle of work when we heard the news. We all stopped whatever it was were doing to take in what was happening. Everyone, in shock, had one thing to say or another.

Some said, not without dread, "Naku, kailangan magsisi na tayooo!"

There were those who prompted us, "Hoooy! Magbago na tayo noh!"

One, however, was more concerned with the pronunciation of tsunami and corrected "that it's not pronounced 'chunami' but 'sunami'" (Goodness!).

And of course there were those who fearfully called to mind the Mayan End of World Prophecy, "Baka nga magkatotoo yung hula sa 2012!"

Embarrassing though it may be, but the first thoughts that came to my mind was, "Dapat talaga mag-asawa na ‘ko...I don't want to leave this world not doing. . . something...anything!!! Heck no!" I even compromised my "list" and said to myself, "Ok na kahit X-men!” Problem is, not even X-men are making "patol". (sigh)

I know I'm making light of and downplaying a serious situation . . . a deadly serious situation. Truth of the matter, the images and footage that splashed on the internet and in the news horrified me. The thought of such disasters taking place here at home shook me (no pun intended). To say that it was heartbreaking is an understatement. It plain scared and saddened me.

The devastation that hit Japan made me see things in a totally different light. This has made me turn my “if only’s” to “at least”. So now, whenever I think -

…if only I am not alone, I say at least I have a sister and her family and my friends who, I’m pretty sure, care and love me. There were those who lost entire families;

…if only I were rich, I say at least I have enough to sustain me, and then some. There are millions in this world who are hungry;

…if only I had a better job, I say at least I have work. There are many who are without jobs or prospects;.

…if only my house is in tiptop shape…at least I have a roof over my head I can call my own. There are those who live on the streets;

…if only I had a newish car. At least my vintage (a.k.a., ancient) car has had its uses and has brought me to places and has been “of service” to many friends. There are those who walk miles just to get to where they’re going;

…if only I were beautiful…at least I’m cute. ‘nuff said!

We as a people complain just about everything - the weather, traffic, workload, finances, food, the government, the church, our bosses, being single, being married, having ids, not having kids, the noise, the silence. Nothing is ever good enough for us.

But armed with this new perspective, I have learned that there is an "at least" in every situation...even death. We will never know why God allows tragedies to happen, or the reasons for them, but one thing I do know and believe in...His plans, His actions, are far better and bigger than any of ours.

honestly?

Who knew that two-year olds can be diplomatic with their answers...or refreshingly honest (but brutal). My niece, Isabel, can certainly be both.

One night, after a hearty dinner, Isabel's mom, Miles and Nana (yaya) were preparing Isabel for bed. Nana pointed to mommy Miles and asked Isabel: "Taba ba 'yan, Isabel?"

Isabel blurted out, "Taba!"

Mommy Miles looked at her with this "what-did-just-say?" look and Isabel hastily changed her answer and said, "Ay busog lang! Busog! Busoooog!" Good answer! Nice save! Diplomatic comeback!

They say kids don't lie... I sometimes wish they would.

One Saturday afternoon, I babysat Isabel as Mommy Miles and Daddy Ricky went out on a date and watched the musicale, "Next to Normal" (that's me...almost normal). Isabel slept most of the afternoon. Since she's a restless sleeper, I laid down beside her while reading a book. After a few hours of sleep, she rolled on her side, stretched a bit, rolled again on her other side, opened her eyes and came face to face, eye to eye with me. As I gave her my sweetest smile, she stared at me for some moments before declaring: "Pangit Ninang".

Awesome!

Funny God (Answer to Prayers 2)

God sometimes has a funny way of talking to me.

I attended a renewal/recollection seminar last weekend. During one of its reflection segments, I recalled how God snapped me out of one of my angsty moments that happened awhile back.

Two years or so into my Mom’s death, I was so bitter and angry at everything and everyone including my only sister that I shut everyone out. I refused to talk or even see family and friends for months. I resented those who ambushed their way into my life and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I went to hear Mass every single day angry, looking for peace, for answers. I found none. My prayers were no better. I lashed out at Him, questioning Him, doubting Him. One time in prayer when I was at my angriest, I finally just stopped talking, sat still and silent, long enough for Him to answer my lamentations. His answer was not that of a Father's or that of a Heavenly Being's but that of a barkada's. He said, in His usual serene one liner, "Arte mo!" That definitely snapped me out of my "kaartehan" and slowly got me out of the dumps I was in. You're so funny, God!

In my blog post "Answers to Prayers", I mentioned that I had said "Yes" to the invitation to attend this renewal/recollection seminar...but not without hesitation and grumbling. I decided to just give this renewal a shot. I had been so active with Singles for Christ it had burnt me out. I was not just visible in SFC, I was everywhere- LUZVIMIN! So this time, after being “absent” from service for some time, I had planned to keep it low key…to keep it slow. In fact, when the seminar was winding down, I had a serious conversation with God. I’d told Him “This is it! I had said “Yes” to You and this seminar. I attended it in spite of the LBM and menstrual pains but I’d like to keep it slow for now, ok? I’d get a feel of things first and keep it low for a while before I get in to the groove of things again. Ok? Ok!"

But I guess “slow" was not in His plan. During the "graduation" ceremonies, we were told that a new set of officers was selected to prepare and serve in the next seminar ...and what do you know - I was appointed President. "No way!" I screamed inside. When I heard my name called, I thought, "There's got to be a mistake, for crying out loud" (and at that moment, I really wished I could - cry out loud, I mean). That night I didn't pray - I begged! Appealed! Negotiated! Bargained! And begged some more! I have absolutely no idea what or how much work or time would be involved and this made me crazier than I already am. By following morning I was still freaking out. But then I opened this e-mail that said, "Relax. I (God) am still in charge." That made me smile, shake my head and heave a sigh in resignation... resignation to His will. So, here I am, relaxing (at least trying to) and letting Him take charge. You’re so funny, God!

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.