READINGS: Genesis 7

Starting all over again can be the most dreadful undertaking. I know as I speak from experience. Gotten a promotion where you'll need to start over in some strange place and do a different set of tasks using different skill sets because of your new position? The first time you hear of it, you're like: "Wow! Thank You, Lord! I did it! I've finally made it!" And then you start planning all the changes that you need to make in what time you have. If you've got a family to look after and you're the hands-on type of parent, sibling or child, it's even harder.

And then, at the end of the most tiring day, you find yourself wondering: "Am I really up to this? What if I fail?"

The same things must've been going through Noah's head. So he had to go through the fire in order to emerge as purest gold--he had to build that ark, which took too many years to count, while the sun kept on shining as he justified himself in the face of endless jeers, that he believed what God said, that great cruel floodwaters would really come--but while the rain was pouring and people and animals and plants were dying, after an exhausting day, it must've hit him: "My family and I will be the only people on earth! Am I really up to this? What if I fail?"

You may be going through something similar right now. Like me, there may be times when the circumstances can be overwhelming and the expectations daunting. But fear not. God's strength is made perfect in weakness. Look to Him and He will direct your paths. And like Noah, you will find yourself counted among the righteous with Him, welcoming you with the words: "Well done, my good and faithful servant. Well done."

My Fascination with Genealogy

READINGS: Genesis 5


My earliest memory with my Dad was of him teaching me how to read without even informing me that there was such a thing as phonics! I was about two, I think. Good thing my mom took pity on me and proceeded to teach me "the proper way" instead of allowing me to be stressed any further by having to memorize how each word looked.

We didn't really have kiddie books like the ones available almost anywhere nowadays. Any book with at least one picture for the whole story was considered "kiddie" enough. After about a year of being able to read those, we would progress to books where there were no pictures at all.

As a kid of three or four (Hey, I was an early reader!), I hated having to read chapters in the Bible with names on them. The pronunciation alone made me want to cry! For me, it was agony. When I got older, I'd cheat on the reading assignments that Dad would give me and skip any and all verses that had more than three names on it. 

But now? 

I find those names fascinating.

Not the challenge to pronounce them per se (Pronunciation keys are available almost anywhere nowadays. Besides, I've learned to love language in all its forms "_") but the idea that one's family could be so rooted that you could actually trace yourself back to Adam!

I know that I am who I am and I can be as good (or as bad) as I choose to be. My past does not have the power to overrule my dreams. My ancestors do not determine who I can be. 

But, still, doesn't it make fascinating reading? Knowing who you're from, whom your Mama and Papa are from, and their Mama and Papa and so on and so forth? Knowing exclusive-for-clan-only stories of exploits, victories, failures, guffaws and embarrassments? Knowing that you are part of something bigger than yourself and for reasons you may not understand just yet, you will also play an important role and be part of history yourself?!

Spiritually, I have a family tree that brings me comfort above all else. It starts with Jesus at the very top, with all those who've gone before me on an endless chain from there, until that long line of witnesses reaches me. 

The torch is now mine to pass along. I'm hoping that the testimony of my life may keep this genealogy of eternal love alive and growing.

Glory to the Living God!

Happiness, I Choose You!

READINGS: Genesis 1-3, Matthew 1

So it's possible to run out of steam, after all.

But do I let that get me down? No, of course not! No can do!

Look at the example of Adam and Eve. They started from perfection but where did they end up finding themselves after all the stupid (excuse my French) choices they had made? Vagabonds sentenced to pain. 

Now look at Jesus. Co-creator of this world and the beyond. He left the splendors of heaven for the sake of thankless humanity that He did NOT need to save. And after all that, where did He end up finding Himself? Without a home to call His own, clothes that had seen better days and surrounded by so-called friends whom, He knew very well, would forsake Him on His hour of need...

Well then, let's fast forward and check: did they let all that get them down?

NOPE!

However bleak the future may be because of wrong choices we had made in the past or because of the noblest of sacrifices we determined to be the best for the people we care about, let's not let the impending doom we foresee dictate the attitude of our hearts for the rest of our existence in this stream of humanity. 

Why? Because for as long as we are alive, we have hope. For as long as we have hope, we are capable of changing ourselves--and who knows--maybe changing our circumstances! And for as long as we are capable of plodding ever forward, capable of re-fueling the steam we always seem to run out of, we can choose to be happy.

Happiness is a choice. So Happiness... I choose you!

Reflections In Bed, Thankfully

I've been ill for a number of weeks now but the past week really laid me low. I literally had to stay in bed for a week and that was no fun. Especially with my kids pleading that I get up and play with them and all I could manage was, "I'm sorry, darling, honey. Mom is sick. Mom is dizzy so Mom has to stay in bed." As is usual for kids that small, they really don't want to miss any opportunity to be with their parent so, as expected, they just played in my room as I slept, so they could stay near me.

 

So while I was in bed, I did some reflecting. Regretting, actually. Of what I should've done... and shouldn't have done. There is something about being sick that really makes you hit rock bottom and makes you feel like you are already standing at the very edge of a cliff.

 

And then those little voices--those sweet voices--would snap me out of such dark thoughts and demand, "Mom! Look at me! Am I pretty? Huh, huh? Am I pretty?" "Mom! Tell Auntie that we are missing! We're hiding. Find us! Peek-a-boo!" "Mom! No more sleeping! Smile! Picture, picture!" "Mom! Look! I'm dancing!" And so on and so forth. 

 

How could you not want to go on after all that? Day after day, they would faithfully climb up my bed and demand that I look at them, that I observe them, that I watch them. And day after day, I realize that it's not really all true that it is just us, parents, who teach our kids about life. There is much that we can learn from our little ones. About how wonderful it is to be needed. About how amazing it is to be alive. And about how precious the passing of every second is. (Oh, and about how adorable little high voices can be.)

 

So here I am typing my reflections in bed, thankfully.

When Discipline Is Love

"My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son." (Hebrews 12:5-6)

There are many controversies nowadays about parenting styles. Parents who are serious about the welfare of their kids sometimes find themselves confused about how best to guide their little ones. A lot of questions pop up, like--

How do I teach my kids how to differentiate right from wrong?

How do I make my kids regret what they did wrong?

How do I make my kids understand why what they did was wrong?

How do I train my kids to choose to do what is right even when I am not there with them, even when no one is watching?

And so debates about the "Tiger Mom approach" and the "Buddy Mom approach" emerge.

Me? Neither of the two. Discipline is a must, yes. Otherwise, we cripple our kids for life. But how do I go about it?

1. I first teach them about my unconditional love.

Because kids need to know that they will be loved no matter what before they can be honest about their mistakes and shortcomings.

2. I make sure it's private.

The intent is to teach, not to humiliate and show-off my power as the almighty parent.

3. I show them my displeasure and/or my disappointment.

Face it, there is always displeasure when people do bad things. Kids value their parents' opinions of them above everyone else's. If we say that what they have done is bad but still go ahead and show them our happy and "I'm-so-proud-of-you" faces, doesn't that send mixed signals to them? 

4. I make them narrate the incident in their own words and make sure that their narrative is objective and accurate.

Disciplining kids is useless if you're not looking at it from the same vantage point.

5. I make them tell me what they did wrong.

Realization is impossible if our kids can't even identify what they did wrong. 

6. I make them tell me why what they did was wrong.

I try to make them realize the implications of what they did without either making a mountain out of a molehill, or trivializing a crucial act. Yes, parent-and-child talks should be comprehensive and relatable. But they should be balanced as well.

7. Unless it's a recurring problem, or something that could have had disastrous consequences to life and limb, I let them help decide what the punishment should be. 

They "help" in deciding. By making them participate in this decision process, they also, albeit inadvertently, help me gauge their understanding of the latitude and severity of their actions and/or inactions.

8. Corporal punishment? Yes. 

I only call it corporal because it's physical. One open-palm smack on their palms or on the buttocks is enough to make my kids weep. (I make sure that it's not painful. And I usually have to do this only once.) They never weep because it of the physical pain because there's hardly any in the first place. They weep because they had disappointed me to the point that I had to reinforce our talk with some physical token of discipline.

And oh, this has to be after #s 1 through 6.

Not all discipline is love. But as moms and dads, love is something we can never opt out whenever we discipline our kids. 

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Even Then

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. (Romans 5:5)

The Christian journey is a long and arduous one. The twists and turns often present melodious chords of immeasurable joy and wonder. But in almost the same heartbeat, they also yield a cacophony of doubts and grief. 

How so?

Because we still sin. We still fail. We still fall.

And so, we can't help but doubt our salvation, whenever we find ourselves foolishly and cruelly giving in to our age-old temptations, confusions and personal hurts. Only to find ourselves on our knees once again, clasping the pierced hands of our crucified Lord.

But why doubt our redemption in the first place? It is because of this: we forget, so quickly and so often, "But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

That is the depth of His amazing grace, for even then, He loved us. This is the hope we must live by--our hope that will never disappoint.

Abba God, whenever I stumble and fall, along with my repentant heart, grant me the reminder of Your amazing grace, of how You loved me even then. And with that, may I treat my life testimony even more preciously that it may, even more precisely, reflect Your love for me and for humanity. Amen.

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Take Another Step

When fury blinds you,

When agony is all that fills you,

Take another step...

God's promises, they will carry you.

When nothing makes sense,

When no arms stretch out, no hands clasp yours,

Take another step...

God's arms, they will never let you go.

When triumphs betray,

And even dreams become enemies,

Take another step...

Trust His bloodied love; He's in control!

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It's Not Too Much

It's been told to me often, as a child "There are no ropes the length of infinity." So, when later on, I became aware of the expression "I'm at the edge of my rope," it didn't sound so strange; it was but logical.

Knowing that, with people, affection in any form -- be it patience, understanding or love, is likened to a rope -- we all, from an early age, learn to live our lives in fear.

What to do? What to do? Why did I say that? Have I now finally overstayed my welcome?

Oh no! These are Mom's favorite plates! What if I lose her love from now on?

I did something wrong again... what if Dad finally stops loving me because of this?

While it is untrue that patience, understanding and love have decided ends, it is also untrue that they can be subjected to endless abuse and not be affected. Patience, understanding and love are treasures that ought to be cherished, and therefore, treated with care.

But what a relief that, with God, even the possibility of "being too much" for Him does not exist at all! There is no fault that is "too much" to be confessed, no wrong that is beyond repentance, and no sin that is beyond His ability to forgive. 

Lord, I will take care of our love because this is my most precious treasure. But, Lord, help me always remember, too, that I should never allow myself to drift away from You with such a flimsy excuse as "I/This might be too much."

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Brave Humility

I yelled at them.

Now let me explain. Here's what happened. It was nap time. And any adult who's been left home alone with very small kids would agree: you can't let small kids be awake, with full access to the entire house without adult supervision. That's just asking for trouble. And trouble could range from the funny, to the embarrassing, to the enraging and onto the downright dangerous. If worse comes to worst, one moment of negligence could mean a little one's life.

Well, truth to tell, I wasn't really thinking too much on the doom and gloom scenario; I was just being careful. In every single moment that I am blessed to have "exclusive time" with my little ones, I always try to think positive so I can always speak positive and act positive. Positivity, I think, is a good demeanor to inculcate to kids.

But positivity should always give way to safety; wisdom and temperance in specific situations always ought to apply. Like nap time.

Dear Lord! I was so tired and they refused to sleep! After about three hours of them trying to "deceive" me, I had had it. I yelled at them.

And they cried.

I didn't mean to. It wasn't really yelling. I just raised my voice a little, in my frustration. And it wasn't even at them! It was more like an unintelligible "Ugh" that escaped my lips. But since this seldom happened, I guess they took it to mean that they had finally done something "bad" that had finally made Mom angry. And what an ogre that made me feel!

For kids that age, among their greatest fears are rejection and abandonment and I had to make snap decisions then and there. How do I bring home the lesson of obedience without undermining my teachings about unconditional love?

What I did? I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I looked them in the eyes and let them see my disappointment in them for like, 5 seconds? After which, I beckoned them near and asked them why they were crying. They then told me what they did wrong and why it was wrong. After one simple sorry from each of them, I gave them hugs and kisses and let them take a stab at napping again. And they slept.

It's been hours since that incident but I can't help reflecting on it. Motherhood, fatherhood, guardianship - regardless of what your relationship to your ward/s is - have two things in common, among others: for these to work, you need both courage and a lowly heart.

You need courage to take ownership of both your great misjudgments and little victories, courage to think on your feet when the situation warrants it and courage to apologize and make reparation for what you may have done wrong.

You also need lowliness of heart to recognize that you are not perfect and should, in turn, never demand perfection. You need lowliness of heart to be honest with yourself in evaluating the results of your "parenting" for the day. And last, but not the least, you need lowliness of heart before you can have a teachable heart before the greatest parent of all: Abba God Almighty.

Note to self: As a parent, I need to be brave. But I need to do so with humility :)
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The Profoundness of the Simple

The air conditioning unit is a-whirling again and the air is too cold for me without my trusty old coat. It's actually itchier to wear now, but I'm not even sure if this is a fact, or just a figment of my all-too-gullible imagination. You know how it is, just because it isn't the stuff you'd have washed after every use, you imagine it being dirtier and more uncomfortable than how it really is.

Or not.

Funny how profound a little coat can be. It's your armor against the chills, yes. But it can also stand for a gazillion other things. It can stand for the arms of your mother who labored good and hard to buy you that coat. It can stand for the hands of a man who is always there for you, who'll always be there anticipating your every need, whether you need his help or not. It can stand for the pleasure of being singled out by someone you trust and respect so much that you feel like you were in Cloud Nine just to have him looking your way, or telling you, "Have a good day!"

It can also stand for the hand of our God. How simple.

He is like a coat, isn't He? Not the maybe-itchy part, but the being simple and profound part. He really is so simple. Look at it as a child does. 

"Who is God, for you, honey?" 

"Mom, He's someone who listens to me when I pray and I can tell Him everything."

"Well, Dad, I think God - He's someone who can do really cool stuff, like those miracles in the Bible with those den of lions with Daniel, those flames with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and don't forget about those Moses-stuff! His staff was seriously cool."

"God? Why, He's Jesus! And He loves me, the Bible tells me so! Isn't that what the song says, Mommy?"

When did we stop being kids? When did we start thinking that knowing God always had to be cluttered with theological statements and apologetics? God can be found there, too, sure! But He doesn't have to be so difficult to find all the time, either.

He can be found by simple faith. And that's what makes Him so profound.

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It's All About You

Heart of Worship

by Michael W. Smith

When the music fades
All is stripped away
And I simply come
Longing just to bring
Something that's of worth
That will bless Your heart
I'll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required
You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about You,
It's all about You, Jesus
I'm sorry, Lord, for the thing I've made it
When it's all about You,
It's all about You, Jesus

King of endless worth
No one could express
How much You deserve
Though I'm weak and poor
All I have is Yours
Every single breath
I'll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required
You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about You, 
It's all about You, Jesus
I'm sorry, Lord, for the thing I've made it
And it's all about You, 
It's all about You, Jesus

I'm coming back to the heart of worship,
And it's all about You,
It's all about You, Jesus
I'm sorry, Lord, for the thing I've made it
And it's all about You,
It's all about You, Jesus

The more experiences we've had to go through, the more often we find ourselves saying, "Now I know better," or, "I'm getting better now."

So we find ourselves thirsting for more knowledge, hungering for more wisdom and yearning for more exposure and hands-on experiences. We begin to develop formulas, techniques and methodologies that make everything come together more efficiently.

But then, we begin to wonder, "What's wrong with me? I know better now, but why do I miss the times when I had to play everything by ear and tons of bravado? Why do I feel as if I am emptying inside?

You know why you are feeling what you are feeling right now? Maybe because you are. Slowly emptying inside, I mean.

More than all the knowledge and wisdom that this world can offer (and that's all good, by the way), in no way, shape or form must we forget what it's all about, who it's all about: it's all about JESUS.

It's all about You, Lord. Let everything that I do be an act of worship that pleases You. Connect me to Your heart in every thought, in every dream and every prayer. Connect every undertaking that these hands and feet offer in Your Name to Your Spirit. Connect me to You, Lord.

Because, really, it's all about YOU.

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The Mystery

It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God--that is, our holiness and redemption. (1 Corinthians 1:30)

We've all tried it and failed. We've all tried to do better but to no avail.

It seemed so much simpler as kids. All we had to do "to be good" was to put our toys away, be polite, eat our greens and just... pretty much do as we were told.

As we got older, "being good" was no longer as simple. We learned about the existence of possibilities and the power of choice. And there were a lot of distractions, too! With many of these diversions sometimes seeming infinitely more satisfying than what we were told was in the narrow and straight.

And then the blows come. Suddenly, we realize that the people we looked up to weren't really sole fountains of knowledge and wisdom all along. And to top it off, we suddenly discover that there really could never be anyone who was a model of perfection; man was never made to be infallible.

But deep inside, there is that yearning to be good. We try so hard but, by our own strength, we find we can't.

And then we "meet" the Lord.

And that is where the mystery begins...

Is it some kind of magic? No, of course not. We don't suddenly grow halos and angel's wings but it is still mysterious, is it not? What we could not do by our own strength, slowly, ever slowly, becomes a possibility, then a probability, and finally, a reality.

That is the mystery of Christ's redemption. There is no science or formula or logic to it. But it accomplishes what should have been impossible: a better Me. A "Me" that is slowly learning to value the wonder of life, the beauty of little things and the sanctity of relationships. A "Me" that has slowly turned into a person that pauses at the face of temptation and clutches at God's hands to help him/her through it. A "Me" that has slowly appreciated the profoundness of a handshake and the lasting wonder of a child's toothless smile.

It's a mystery that, in becoming a better "Me," all that really had to be done was to abandon my everything to Him. It's hard and with every test and failure, it's like dying every now and then but Lord! Oh, Lord! It's so worth it!

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My First Love

BEFORE:

I remember my first love. Someone mentions his name and my heart is suddenly all a-flutter. Actually, it doesn't really have to be his name, all the time, but at any time a name that sounds like his. I did not have 20/20 vision but no matter how dim the lighting, I knew his silhouette. I even knew the very sound of his footsteps.

I remember the first time I saw my newborn child. To my eyes, its red and wrinkly skin was the most beautiful sight to me, more wonderful than all my collections of sketches, artworks and paintings. To my eyes, no other child could be as beautiful, no other child could be as enchanting, no other child could be as angelic as my little cherub. I could sit for hours doing nothing but stare at her.

I remember the first time I "met" God. The very memory of all the wrongs I ever did brought me to tears. Any reminder of all He had to do to redeem me brought me to tears. Even considering to compromise brought me to tears! When I first met God, I cried a lot. But those tears were liberating.

TODAY:

With my love -- What words come out of my mouth the moment the man I love comes striding in that door? Do I even think before I speak? When was the last time I looked at him with adoration, the last time he heard me say I honestly admired him for loving me and for caring for our little family? The last time I hugged him from behind while his attention was locked on the dishes, on his carpentry or on house repairs? When was the last time I said, "I love you, Dear."

With my child -- When was the last time I held her, tickled her and played with her? When was the last time I dropped everything that I may gaze at her and thank God for the wonder of her life? When was the last time she felt that I was, indeed, her mother? When was the last time I told her, "Now don't worry about me. Do your best and do your thing. No matter what happens, I'm your number one fan, Honey!"

With my God -- Does my mind yearn as much to be fed with His word? Does my heart long for His presence still? Are my hands and feet restless to go, to give and to serve in His name? Or have I now become content knowing that I am saved? The service that I have served Him with, are they passionately ongoing... or are they now just memories of the past? When was the last time my soul sang to Him, "Lord, I want to know You more. Deep within my soul I want to know You. Lord, I want to know You more." 

Lord, bring me back to my first love. Let me gaze into the eyes of my love with sweet sincerity once more. Let my feet seek my child and my hands, once more, secure her with my warmth. Let my soul, once more, be overwhelmed with thirst for You, oh Lord, and be filled.

Come In, Lord. Come In.

The Sermon on the Mount was always a set that left me astounded as a child. The first time Dad attempted to drill that into me, I wasn't even a grade schooler yet - I was about three or four years old? By then, I had already memorized Psalm 23 and Psalm 91 by heart and "The Ten Commandments" of course. As far as I was concerned, they were just poetic mumbo-jumbo that I needed to be able to recite at a moment's notice if I didn't want a long telling-to from the pillar of the family.

As I grew older and began to understand, how I looked at the Sermon on the Mount changed. In grade school, it became an ideal set of standards that I must achieve if I ever want a "Well done, my good and faithful servant" from my Lord. But I didn't have a personal relationship with God yet, back then.

In high school, I was beginning to become a bit more realistic. For me, the Sermon on the Mount was a standard that kids like me could look up to, but not necessarily achieve. But, for those in positions of authority? You can't not have achieved them. Otherwise, you should leave the seat of power that has been entrusted to you. But as the years melted away, I began to see that even that was unrealistic by itself.

So in college? I left that possibility with men and women of God - pastors, ministers and priests. Surely, they would be able to meet the standards set by the Sermon on the Mount! I opened my heart to God in college, only to realize later on that even so-called men and women of God fall prey to apathy, mediocrity, corruption and greed.

And today? I'd like to believe that I've grown up, even just a little bit. And, I've realized this - I was never entirely right, but I was never entirely wrong either. Yes, the Sermon on the Mount is indeed a set of standards. Yes, it is something that should be aspired by young and old alike. And yes, of all the people on this earth, people of authority and men and women of the church should be role models on how the Sermon on the Mount should be lived. But, we have to start from the beginning; it needs to start with God.

It needs to start with God.

We, of course, need to start with the right understanding. The Sermon on the Mount is meant to look impossible because they are impossible by just our own strength. They were meant that way that we may understand that what this world needs are men and women  -

• who understand that they are poor before a limitless God,
• who understand that they have never really understood comfort outside the arms of He who gave His life for us,
• who understand that no matter how good the world says they are, what they are and what they are capable of is nothing when set against eternity,
• who understand that righteousness is something that their very soul must yearn for before they can be filled with it,
• who understand that mercy is not something deserved but something given out,
• who understand that pureness of heart, like that of a child, is not something to be ridiculed, but to be admired,
• who understand that seeking peace and fighting for it are equally hard and equally necessary,
• who understand that persecution in the name of what is right is the highest form of accolade, higher than any medal, trophy or crown this world can bestow.

So, come in, Lord... Come in. It needs to start with You.

No, I Won't

How many times is it have we said - I won't. I shan't. I will not. NO. And end up remorsefully whispering, I'm so sorry... If only I'd known...

Enough articles, songs and movie clips abound about appreciation. How we must learn never to take the people around us for granted. How death, being the great equalizer to the old and young, to the rich and poor, to the educated and not, to the healthy and sick, to the oppressor and oppressed, comes when our hearts least expect it. And then when it does come, that is the end of the line. Efforts to resuscitate broken relationships, to heal broken rifts, to establish broken dreams would then be futile. The dead see not, hear not or feel not. 

But there is Someone whom we take for granted more than anything and everyone: He is Jesus. Is it because we know He won't ever die again, our Eternal God? Is it because we know He won't ever refuse us forgiveness whenever we fall on our knees and beg for His mercy? Is it because we know that He is just and that grace will never be withheld from us regardless of how we walk this Christian pilgrimage, to the sanctuary of His many mansions?

Rather than look at an Eternal God, why not look at the wounds of His feet, how those feet took form in a manger as a flesh and blood child that hungered, thirsted and hurt only to grow to wander without a home and be pierced on a cross? Rather than look at a Forgiving God, why not look at the hurt in His holy eyes as we sin again and again with a soul whose healing only requires we truly surrender to His rule? Rather than look at a Just God, why not look at a God whose mercy required no one, not even humanity, but chose to save it even as it knew the hurt and unbelief and anger that it would undeservedly receive... whose magnificence required the eternal attendance of angels but chose to be robed with suffering... whose holiness is beyond words but chose to be a curse for us?

The next time God whispers in our ears, let the ember in our hearts surrender. Don't let it gaze at His holiness, His loveliness and His magnificence and say, No, I won't. Instead...

Lord, I shall. 

The Miracle

People who are humble and gracious and kind and good - they are so rare that the moment we meet someone who is genuinely so, regardless of what our ideologies or advocacies may be, we find ourselves transfixed. There's a word for people like that in the English language: self-effacing.

Looking back, self-effacing is a product of one of three things, or a combination of any of these three: nature, nurture and self-will.

In short, the odds of being self-effacing is just as random as any other trait can be. But the weird thing about this? It's something that is expected to be "natural" among Christians.

I was reading on 1 Corinthians 2:5 a while ago and it struck me at how self-effacing Paul was. Of all the apostles, when it comes to eloquence and theological training, he stood out. And yet, he was able to boldly declare that he used none of those to win people over to God. Everything he did was "purely" on the "power of the Spirit."

There's this prayer that I used to pray often when I was still new in the faith. It was just a two-word prayer that I repeated like a mantra whenever I was "forcibly" assigned to lead an endeavor, stand as a speaker or anything else of that caliber: "ERASE ME."

Erase me.

Over the years, I guess that prayer got worn out and I maybe thought there was a better way of praying. But now, looking back, that prayer seems perfect to me. If, like Da Vinci's painting of a chalice at the scene of "The Last Supper," it seems that I am shining brighter than I should be, drawing attention unto me, then dim me, Lord. Erase me if You must. So that all eyes may be drawn unto You alone.

Badge of Pride

On retrospect, how laughable our passions were as children! How demented we seemed, how foolish to carry our hearts on our sleeves, only to have our passions stricken down for "being misplaced" zeal. Remember how our parents would shout after us, "if you poured that same passion for your studies...!" And remember all those mishaps and embarrassments that we got into? Oh, the horror!

But isn't there something that we are missing here? Not everything about those experiences were really all that bad. The choices were ill-informed, to be sure, or even when we were well-informed, we let our being young rule over our heads. But,as adults, we have seemed to equate "becoming sensible" to being passionless as well! There was nothing wrong with the passion back then and there really isn't anything wrong with carrying that same exuberant zeal today! The difference? Let us just choose well what we ought to be passionate about.

How long has it been since I'd worn Jesus as my badge of pride? With that same foolish zeal that I had for Bioman's Peebo and for Sesame Street's Snuffleupagus? How long has it been since my soul had shouted "I just don't care what they say! I'm doing this!" when it came to work that bore the crest of His blood? 

Dear Lord, let my passion for you be that of a child once again, with that same courage and absorption and wholeheartedness. Be, once again, my badge of pride.

Waking up early in a cool dawn

Kneeling and praying to You alone

Worshiping You before Your throne
Seeking Your face 'til in Your presence be drawn

Just to please You is my desire

To offer an aroma of praise You inspire

And though there are times I'm unfaithful to You

Oh Lord remember that I love You

Still my desire is to please You

Lord, I live to serve You
And I'll give You the best in everything I do
Make my whole life obedient and true
Holy and acceptable offering to You

Just to please You is my desire

To offer an aroma of praise You inspire

And though there are times I'm unfaithful to You

Oh Lord remember that I love You

Still my desire is to please You

I'm not so sure but this is an old song by Ms. Joni Villanueva way back when. What is important for me, for now, is that I offer an aroma of praise to my Lord today!

Awaken, Steadfast Heart!

There will always be excuses for everything. Regardless of whether or not those excuses actually mean something, or if they are just excuses for the sake of excuses, is irrelevant. The moment we allow ourselves to dwell on them, that's the very moment that we set ourselves along a path that goes ever farther from God's set path of peace, contentment and joy.

It's the same thing with Quiet Time. True. Our circumstances change and responsibilities loom ever bigger as we age and start our families. True. We need to love God more but we also should be able to minister to our loved ones, to our work and to our church in such a way that God's name will not be trampled by nay-sayers. 

But isn't it also true that once we allow one of these to be reasons to completely stop trying we find ourselves no longer as connected with God and His chosen people?

I dunno about you, but this is true about me. The excuses have been valid enough. My situation in life had changed and, at first, I struggled over the changes. Eventually, I found myself resigned to everything and no longer struggling. With the absence of that struggle, I also, to my deep regret, found myself farther and farther from the peace, contentment and joy primary connection with the Lord and with His people bring.

I miss that struggle. 

Lord, like the Bible verse I just read today, I don't want any excuses anymore. I want to go back to greeting the dawn with Your presence in my life.

My heart is steadfast, O God,

my heart is steadfast;

I will sing and make music.

Awake, my soul!

Awake, harp and lyre!

I will awaken the dawn.

Psalm 57:7-8

My Melody

Alone but surrounded. Oh! How enveloped I am in His embrace! The melody of His grace seeps through to my soul and I find myself wanting to stay where I am, evermore.

How long has it been since the steady hum of everydays had ceased to bother me and disappeared into the background? How long has it been since the scurrying to and fro of people and events had ceased to pound on my poor heart and blurred my vision? How long has it been since my spirit had felt itself alone in His presence, confessing nothing, thanking nothing, requesting nothing but just... there, enjoying Him?

My melody. More than the notes that comprise any song, Lord, let my melody be Your presence.
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TryOut

This is just a tryout. I'm actually just trying to see if it is indeed possible to update my blog here at blogspot by just carrying around my BlackBerry.

So this is a test. I repeat this is a test (Sorry, couldn't resist typing that in. What fun!)

And wouldn't it be so much more fun if this actually worked?!

Fingers crossed!
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I Want My Nevertheless

Defying the odds. Against the wind. Counter-current.

I want those in my life. There are so many parts of me that I know I have difficulty surrendering completely. Where, I must confess, the enemy still has strongholds over me. But the Bible is replete of stories where the impossible became possible. Like - 

Rahab: Lived a prostitute, nevertheless became a forbear of King David
King David: Born a shepherd, nevertheless became a great king
Peter: Raised a fisherman, nevertheless became an apostle to the Jews
Paul: Trained an enemy of Jesus' disciples, nevertheless became the apostle to the Gentiles

I want my nevertheless. I want to defy the odds, to go against the wind, to brave the current and emerge victorious in the arms of Him who has loved me all this time. But as ideal and as inspirational that may all sound, it's not as easy as breathing or as natural as typing words on the computer screen.

Emerging out of the mires of one's making is torturous and agonizing. It demands many tears and countless heartaches. But like the climb up a mountain, the view will be worth it.

Defying the odds, against the wind, counter-current... The list is long and old, with a lot of new entries. There have been items crossed out, by Your grace, over the years but there are also those entries where the ink is still wet from newness. Lord, I want my nevertheless. Be with me today and on the days to come. Thank You, Lord.

Embrace It

It's a commonality, really. Almost all the adventure films and melodramas worth their salt have this as a theme for their protagonists. The protagonist is someone who is talented and capable of many things but because of many things that happened, either of his doing or a fruit of other people's connivance, he is disheartened and completely hopeless. And he finds that he is totally okay with that hopelessness. 

Until changes come: changes that leave his world spinning out-of-control! The more he fights it, the worse everything gets. And whenever he makes tokens of effort, everybody else disses him for his worthlessness. 

Until he embraces it.

It - being so many things: his past and future mistakes, his talents and capabilities, people's trust and mistrust of his person and his character, his track record and his abilities, and last but not the least, all the changes that have been happening around him. 

There are a lot of changes happening around me right now and I find that there are times when I feel quite overwhelmed. I'm certainly not a protagonist in a television series or a hit movie for the Cannes Festival. But I am the main actor of my own life and I've found that in those moments when I feel overwhelmed, I need to just... EMBRACE IT. 

Embrace it.

That's not so easy to do. A lot of my past mistakes come to haunt me, many times choosing to do so at the most crucial moments. My feelings of inadequacy constantly rob me of the confidence to lead and to take charge but there is work that needs to be done and there is no way that just one person can accomplish everything that needs accomplishing.

Embrace it.

But I'm embracing it not as William Ernest Henley's "Invictus" but as Dorothea Day saw it. Our religious beliefs aside, I like her "Captain" better.

Here's Henley's Invictus:

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole, 

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Contrast it with Day's Captain:

Out of the night that dazzles me,

Bright as the sun from pole to pole,

I thank the God I know to be

For Christ the conqueror of my soul.

Since His sway of circumstance,

I would not wince nor cry aloud.

Under that rule which men call chance

My head with joy is humbly bowed.

Beyond this place of sin and tears

That life with Him! And His the aid,

Despite the menace of the years,

Keeps, and shall keep me, unafraid.

I have no fear, though strait the gate,

He cleared from punishment the scroll.

Christ is the Master of my fate,

Christ is the Captain of my soul.

Embracing it all? I can't, with just me. But with Christ... YES.