I Have Kwento: Train Memoirs

Hey everyone!!! 🙂 🙂

As I always say after a loooooooong absence, so I say again: I’M SO GLAD TO BE BACK!! 🙂

Right now I’m on Christmas break, which means I have more time (and no more excuse) to update GJ (Gracing Jenny haha) and share you some of my love. 😀 Today, I want to start with a story in Tagalog (sorry to my non-Tagalog speaking readers). Last Monday as I was cleaning my room (another long overdue task), I chanced upon my old journals. I opened one of them that dated 2 years ago, and I found this story written 2 years ago, March 16. I think this is inspired by true events, since the setting and possibility of this ever occurring can actually happen in my life. : I won’t say which of the events are “inspired” though. 😀 It’s supposed to be funny, so sana matawa kayo. (Pag hindi, edi sige fine, ako nalang tatawa mag-isa. HAHA #sadlife)

STORYTIME!! 🙂

7:00 A.M, Biyernes

“Mahal kita. As in. No joke.”

“Oo nga, naniniwala na ‘ko.”

Ang totoo niyan, matagal ko nang pinaniwalaan ang mga sinabi niya. Bago pa maging kami, nung taga-abot at taga-ayos lang ako ng lapel o mikropono niya sa mga dula namin sa aming pamantasan. Ito ang araw na pinakahihintay ko. Totoo nga ba ang lahat ng ito? Tunay nga ba na makapipiling ko na palagi ang aking giliw–ang marikit na Ingrid? Isa itong…

When I see your face…there’s not a thing that I would change….’cause you’re–

Ano ba Bruno Mars?! Kanina ka pa ume-epal eh. Pindot ako ng pindot, este, slide ako ng slide–ng iPhone ko para tumahimik ang alarm, sige pa rin sa pagkanta. Bakit, anong oras na ba?

Anak ng tokwa, alas siyete na!!! Teka, anong araw ba ngayon???

BIYERNES!!!!! SYETT!!! Alas siyete y medya nga pala klase ko ngayon! May quiz pa naman kami sa Math. Putek, si Ms. Tampil pa naman prof ko dun!

Syempre dali-dali akong tumalon, nakipagkarera sa oras at tumakbo papa-alis ng bahay. Nakakainis dahil hindi ako nakakain ng almusal, masarap pa naman din. Ininit ni Day (short for Inday) yung lechon kawali, salmon, at fried rice na inuwi nina Daddy at Mommy nung kinagabihan mula sa buffet. 😦

7:17 AM

Paglabas ko ng bahay, nanalangin ako sa Diyos na paluwagin ang kalsada at ang mga jeep sa Guadalupe. Saktong pagkarating ko sa sakayan ng jeep, may nakaabang na sa aking jeep at isa nalang ang kasya! (rush hour na kasi) Pinasalamatan ko si Papa God.

Bigla kong naalala ang walang humpay kong pagmumura kanina nang ako’y gumising. Ang sama ko nga naman! Ako na nga ‘tong pinagkalooban ng pagsanggalang mula sa kapahamakan sa aking pagtulog, tapos pagmumura pa ang iginanti ko sa Diyos–Diyos pa sa lahat ng nilalang! “Panginoon, sorry po. Hindi ko po sinasadya. Malaki na po ang kasalanan ko sa Inyo ngayong umaga, pero kung maaari lang po, paluwagin Niyo po ang MRT mamaya pagdating ko para agad po akong makasakay. Salamat po, Lord.”

Matapos manalanggin, inabot ko ang bayad ko sa aking katabi at nakisuyong ipaabot sa drayber. Pagbalik sa akin ng sukli–grabe, nagmahal na; dalawang piso nalang ang bumalik sa akin–kaagad kong kinuha ang abaniko ko mula sa backpack. Isa kasi akong pawising nilalang. Ewan ko ba kung bakit, di naman ako mataba. Siguro dahil palainom ako ng tubig, mas maraming pawis ang lumalabas sa mga parte ng katawan ko–noo, braso, likod, dibdib, singit, kili-kili….

Kili-kili. Teka. Nag-lagay ba ako ng ano….Pa-simple kong kinapa ang t-shirt ko sa bandang kili-kili, ayun pala, naunahan na ako ng katabi ko sa pagtuklas ng nakamamatay kong sikreto. Buti nalang pumara na siya at ang anim pang pasahero, kaya nung bumaba sila, lumipat ako sa dulo ng jeep (sa may labasan) at nilakasan ang aking pagpaypay.

Matapos ang ilang segundo, nagpatuloy sa pagbibiyahe ang jeep. May iba pa kayang naka-amoy? Ang eng-eng ko talaga!! Bakit sa lahat pa ng makakalimutan kong gawin, yun pang mag-deodorant? Ang masama pa dun, kalaban ko pa ang panahon dahil panahon na ng tag-init. Kasalanan ko bang may klase ako ng Abril? Hindi ito gaanong makatarungan, pero sa paningin (at pang-amoy) ng ibang tao (lalo na yung lalaki kanina) na mas hindi makatarungan ang anghit ko (buti nalang puti ang t-shirt ko kaya wala akong marka ng jabar).

7:40 A.M.

“Hay nako, late na talaga ako. Hindi ko na maaabutan ang quiz,” wika ko habang naglalakad papunta sa MRT Guadalupe station.  Pero ang totoo niyan, mas kinakabahan pa ako sa aking amoy lalo na sa harap ako ng klase uupo mamaya! Masyado kasing mahal ni Ginang Tampil ang kanyang mga mag-aaral kaya pinapaupo niya ang mga latecomers sa harapan kung saan sila’y nakararanas ng ikalawang pagligo. As in. Nakakalimang tabo siya ng laway. Daig pa yung talsik ng mga dolphins sa Ocean Park. Kulang nalang magdala ng sabon at shampoo kaming mga estudyante sa harapan. Nakakasampung tabo siya kapag maraming ‘F’ at ‘P’ ang mga salita at pangungusap niya; napagpapalit niya kasi ang mga ito. (“Okey wat’s the answer? Correct! Pour foint pive”)

Bahala na, sige na lang. buti nalang dala ko ang aking abaniko pangtakip.

Pagsakay ko sa escalator, tumatagak ako sa pawis–at amoy. Ako mismo nadidighay sa sarili kong amoy. Papasok pa ba ako? Parang nakakahiya na–teka, nakakahiya talaga! Kahit na hindi ko na pasukin ang Math class, hindi naman akong maaaring umabsent sa ibang subject. Ayyy….alam ko na!! Buti nalang sinunod ko ang aking Mommy nang sabihan niya akong mag-iwan ng ekstrang t-shirt, shampoo, sabon, TOWEL, at DEODORANT sa locker!!! Maliligo nalang muna ako. Pero pano yung…brief???

Na-excite akong makarating sa pamantasan pero may isa pa akong hamon na dapat harapin: ang pagsakay sa siksikang tren na may anghit.

Habang nakapila ako sa security check, bumilis ang tibok ng aking puso. Puno na ang tren kaya sardinas time na naman. Okay lang sana yun kung mabango at tuyo pa ako. (may higit-kumulang isang paang layo sa pagitan namin ng babaeng nakapila sa likod ko sa linya dahil sa aking weapon of mass destruction)

Weapon. Sandata. Oo nga noh!! Isang henyong kaisipan ang pumasok sa aking kaisipan. Binuksan ko ang zipper ng aking bag at hinayaang tusukin ng guard, na nagtakip ng kaniyang ilong. Agad akong pumasok ng stasyon at hinabol ang paparating na tren.

“Gagawin ko na ba ‘to?” Paulit-ulit kong tinatanong ang aking sarili…at ang Diyos. Baka iton na yung sagot sa panalangin ko kanina. Di hamak na luluwag ang daan ko kapag ginawa ko ‘yon! 🙂 Nagpasiya ako: gagawin ko na ang aking mahusay na plano.

ETO NAAAAA!! RELEASE THE KRAKEN!!!!!

Pagbukas ng mga pintuan ng tren, sabay kong inangat ang aking mga braso’t kamay at nagsabi ng “excuse me.” Ang mga sumunod na pangyayari ay aking inasahan ngunit para sa akin ay isang milagro parang ng nangyari kay Moises nang hiwain niya ang Pulang Dagat.

Nahati ang mga papasok na pasahero sa kanan at kaliwa hanbang nakatakip sa kanilang mga ilong at bibig–at siyaka ako pumasok papaloob ng tren. Bagama’t marami nang kalalakihang ang nagsasabing, “Anghit naman niyan grabe!”, wala silang magagawa kung hindi tiisin ang aking handog na regalo at sandata. 😉

Pagbaba ko sa Shaw Boulevard, taas-noo akong lumabas ng tren. Nakakatakot lumingon dahil sa mga mala-kontrabidang titig ng mga tao (lalo na nung may narinig akong naghihinalo sa likod ko na babae–galit na galit ang jologs niyang nobyo). Ang hindi alam ng feeling Andrew E, may bakas ng jabar nag t-shirt niya.

12:30 PM

Naging maganda ang takbo nang araw ko matapos kong pinasabog an mabagsik kong dinamito. Nalaman ko sa aking mga kaklase na nagpa-free cut si Ms. Tampil. At eto pa: pagkatapos kong maligo, magdeodorant (naka sampung pahid ata ako sa bawat kili-kili) at kumain ng taho, nagtungo ako sa photocopying area. Hulaan mo kung sinong nandun.

Si Ingrid. Ang aking giliw!

Pagdating ko, napansin niya ako kaagad. Sabay ngiti. Sabay bati. (at nasabi ko ba na kami lang dalawa yung tao sa loob ng photocopying area? Di ko na sinama si Manong Xerox dahil walang pake yun sa mga estudyante)

“Hi Evan! Ba’t wala ka nung math?”

“Hi Ingrid! Math? Diba free cut?”

“Ah oo. I mean, before the class started. Hinanap kita, wala ka eh.”

Hinanap niya ako?!?! Kung pwede lang sumayaw! Pero hindi, nagtimpi ako at kalmadong sumagot, “Traffic kasi sa MRT.” At dahil makapal ang mukha ko dahil nag-deodorant na ako, hinabol ko ang tanong: “Ba’t mo ako…hinanap?”

“Napaniginipan kasi kit!”

“Ah…ah….ta-….talaga?” TALAGA?! AKO DIN!!

“Oo, sobrang natuwa nga ako eh. Jinajabar ka saw sa isang kwarto tapos awyaw ma-alis kahit na nakailang ligo ka na. Hahaha! Sorry ah, pero sobrang natawa lang talaga ako.”

Gusto ko rin sana tumawa, kaso pilit yung lumabas. Hindi nalang ako nagpahalata, total si Ingrid ‘to!! Okay na ‘to kaysa yung mga paisa-isang tanong sa Math.

“Haha, talaga ah? Ako din, napaniginipan ka–”

When I see your face…there’s not a thing that I would change….’cause you’re amazing–

Syyeee…ano ba yan!! Bruno Mars! Panira ka ng moment!! Bakit nag-alarm phone ko?? Di ko naman sinet….

“–Just the way you are! I like that song, too!”

Nagtagpo ang mga mata namin ni Ingrid ng mga two seconds at sa pakiramdam ko, pati ang aming mga puso. Agad kong pinasalamatan si Bruno Mars sa aking loob hangga’t sinabi ni Ingrid–

“Favorite song ko yan lalo na nung hinarana ako ng boyfriend ko nung isang gabi. Sobrang kilig!”

Bo…boy…boyfriend? Akala ko single siya?!

“May…bo…boyfriend ka na? Sino? Kailan?”

“Last week lang! Si Santi Delias. Shucks Evan, sorry to cut this conversation short, ah. Kailangan ko nang mauna. I’ll meet Santi in McDo. See you around!”

At sa isang iglap, naglaho ang aking mga magagandang pangarap. Kung pwede lang gamitin ang weapon of mass destruction ko kay Santi.  May panibago nanaman akong hamon. 🙂

Photo source: Inquirer News via Google Images 

Ms. Right

On our way home tonight, my brothers and I were having a conversation. James, our youngest, out of the blue, told us he hasn’t tasted or seen unleavened bread, and then he asked me why it was so flat.

“Well because it doesn’t have yeast, so it’s flat. It doesn’t rise like normal bread.”

Hearing this, my other brother, Josh, interjected with a “fun fact” on unleavened bread:

“Sabi ni Sir RC mas makunat pa ang unleavened bread sa SkyFlakes.” (“Sir RC told us that unleavened bread is chewier than SkyFlakes.”)

Wait, what? “SkyFlakes is not chewy at all! It’s crispy!” I told this rather defensively to my brother, as if I was debating which superhero is better, Captain America or Iron Man, to their die-hard fans.

But Joshua insisted. “No, it’s makunat daw. He said.”

But no! He was wrong, and I was right. I defended my position again, this time, with more passion in my voice: “Ano kang makunat?! Ang lutong kaya ng SkyFlakes! Hindi siya makunat! Pag hinati mo ang dali-daling baliin, ano ka ba–-”

“JENNY!! JENNY! SSHHHH! SSSSSHH!!”

Mom. She cut off my argumentative monologue and aired hers. “Why are you so defensive? Huh? Why do you speak like that?”

“No, I’m not.” (Yes, I was. And  I knew it.)

“Why do you talk like that? You know what, you’re a bully. You sound like a know-it-all, like Ms. Righteous. You don’t always have to prove you’re right!”

That shut me up alright.

My ego was attacked head on, but my heart responded in a rather positive way. Sort of.  I didn’t react or defend myself again (because that would have been really stupid). When I looked at James he smiled at me and stuck out his tongue, and I also returned the favor by smiling and sticking out my tongue as if to surrender my right to be right. And for the rest of the ride (which was only a few minutes away after that “heated” argument), I kept all my rights to myself.

Being the perfectionist that I am, I always want things right, as much as possible. In a world where everything that’s right goes wrong, the way I’m thinking is a tad fantastic. Lately, God has been teaching me that my notion of being right all the time is not the same as Him being right all the time. Mine may be tainted with ill intentions or lead to negative consequences (as proven by my unleavened bread experience); God’s righteousness is always based on good intentions and always results in positive consequences. Christianity is not all about getting things right, about following rules to “avoid God’s wrath.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Christians should be loose and not totally do what’s right; I’m saying we shouldn’t be legalistic. I’m saying that as human beings, we have to deal with the reality that everything we do, say, and think can be wrong because imperfection is in our nature. I realized there are only two things you can be sure about the human race: mistakes and death.

Anyway, back to being right. When I got home and thought about my being Ms. Right, I thought about parts of my life that I always want to be right. The first thing that came into my head was Mr. Right, also known as GB (God’s Best), “the one,” soulmate or whatever way you want to call it. Hollywood has philosophized a lot of times on the subject of finding Mr. Right–how he seems to have all or almost all the characteristics you’ve been looking for in a husband, how he’s got you checking one item after another on your checklist. In church and retreats I’ve attended that talked about waiting and preparing for your lifetime partner, I’ve heard speakers suggest that we make a checklist on the qualities that we look for in our future husband. This suggestion fit my “right theology.” So I made my list. (But that’s another story of its own) Tonight, I rethought about that list and about Mr. Right, especially after what our pastor said earlier this evening in the worship service:

“What many people don’t realize is that marriage is a lifetime commitment to a defective individual.”

Let’s face it: there really is no Mr. Right or Ms. Right. I realized that when dealing with the human race, mistakes are more common and more predictable than successes. I also realized that looking for a suitable helpmate (in the future, for me) involves more than just looking for someone with desirable qualities; it is also figuring out what specific flaws and “defects” a person has that you can deal with…for the rest of your life. Waiting for people to change is futile. As has been said many times in different ways in so many movies, books, and whatnot on love: “You love a person for who they are, not for what they will become.”

So….what does that have to do with me being Ms. Right? A lot. Tonight, I had a mini-eureka moment. The SkyFlakes argument triggered that. If it weren’t for the question on the unleavened bread, my brother’s interjection, and my sudden outburst, I wouldn’t have realized how much time I’ve wasted displacing my anger and right to be right on things that shouldn’t be fought over, more so, debated on. I don’t always have to prove I’m right. Heck, I’ve never been consistently right! I’ve flunked almost everything, even the things I’ve been doing for so long–school, diet, sleep (by sleeping late…just like tonight), blog entries (I’ve revised this entry about three times), relationships (i.e., friendships), and all my other responsibilities. The Bible already said it: “There is no righteous, no not one.” Me proving myself to be right when I’m not supposed to just proves how wrong I am! The real righteous and good people do not have to prove themselves, just as a cheetah does not need to prove himself to a puppy that he can outrun him. Ms. Right sometimes needs to learn to take a backseat, let things “go wrong,” and laugh. Chill. Keep calm. As for looking for Mr. Right, she should be looking both at his sweet and sour parts, and see if she can deal with both.

Before she even searches for her Mr. Right, Ms. Right must first learn to accept her sweet parts and sour parts, and the fact that she doesn’t always have to be right. She doesn’t always have to win an argument. Or else, she would be no different than a bully.

Ms. Right and her minions a few months back

Craving Grace: A Book Review

For Lisa Velthouse’s whole life, Christianity had been about getting things right. Obeying her parents. Not drinking. Not cursing. Not having premarital sex…..But after two decades of trying to earn God’s favor, she found her faith was lonely, empty, and unsatisfying. So where does a “good Christian girl” turn when she needs answers? More discipline, of course: fasting! For months Lisa managed to fast, but the result seemed to be that suddenly she was falling short in everything else. Then, one night at a wedding, she denied herself the cake but broke an even bigger promise she’d made years before–falling in such an unexpected and world-rocking way that it challenged everything she thought she knew about God and herself.

Have you ever encountered a book that almost perfectly described your current situation and feeelings? Your awkward, humorously stupid, and at times, downright sinful moments and emotions? I have. And it’s called Craving Grace.

I first read a Lisa Velthouse creation seven years ago when my cousin lent me her copy of Saving My First Kiss. At that time I was a tween, awkward, innocent, and relatively simply in every way possible, and I honestly did not understand a big part of the book, except for the fact that the author (who was the same age as I am now) made a vow to God to safeguard her purity, especially that of her lips.

In this not-so-tell-all but completely honest memoir, Lisa Velthouse described her struggle with a seeming lack of romantic activity in her life, understanding God’s grace, keeping her hands off chocolate sundaes and brownies, and dealing with failure. A whole smack of heart-crushing failure, especially for a woman who seeks to have everything in place so that she would not make God sad. While reading this, I felt joy in knowing that someone else’s reality and struggles are similar to mine, and even more joy in confirming that everything I’m experiencing now is part of God’s great, big, and strange plan.

Objectively, I thought Craving Grace was mature, intelligent, funny, and heart-tugging. Although there was no particular or singular story that was supposed to be follow throughout the book, I always found myself wanting to turn over the next page and read on (and I read even if I had a thick-load of other school readings, which were mostly boring. HAHA)  I also liked the fact that the arrangement of the stories and events was not chronological, but thematic, and the theme was, the ever-deepening understanding of a child of her Father’s amazing grace. I also appreciated Ms. Velthouse’s choice of words and use of language because it entailed going to the dictionary to search for literal meanings and looking into my heart and mind for deeper ones (which is why I thought it was intelligent). Lisa Velthouse didn’t just write her story for the sake of writing it (a mistake a lot of memoirs unfortunately commit); she wrote for the sake of change–for herself and her readers.

So why did I say I identify with this book so, so much? Because while I was reading it, I was at the point of my life where I struggled with God’s grace, love, Word, truth…and just God Himself. I also struggled with fasting (I am eating my 5th or 6th serving of peanuts for the day. :O)  I couldn’t understand how I, the professing smart, intelligent, organized, and “I-have-it-all-together” girl, could eat too much food, watch too much TV, think vain thoughts, become so utterly selfish, fail academic requirements, and hurt the people I love the most (and who love me even more). In some parts of the book, Lisa Velthouse told stories about her experiences with sheep and how much she wished God didn’t compare her with sheep, which are downright stupid, helpless, and stubborn animals. She really got me when she wrote the following lines on page 145:

My preference–and my default mode–is to go on believing I am mostly good, just occasionally misguided. It is soothing to me, this illusion that I am not small and insignificant…that I am not undisciplined and unprincipled….that the core of my character is not at all ugly or awkward or unseemly….

She helped me accept the fact that I am an awkward, stubborn, and helpless sheep that is loved, cared for, and protected by a good and gracious Shepherd. She helped me understand even better that, while God hates sin to the core, He loves the sinner, and more importantly, to those He calls His children, He does not rest nor does He get fazed by failure and trials until His kids are perfectly aligned to His will for them.  She made me crave grace and search for God’s sweetness without shoving it at my face. Grace, indeed, is beautiful. 🙂

Ms. Velthouse, thank you for sticking to God in spite of the struggle, and living on to write your story about His grace. 🙂

As for YOU reading this right now, go grab a copy of Craving Grace: the book every person who ever failed in life and searched for God and continues to seek revival and hope should read. 🙂

Special thanks to OMF Literature for publishing her book here in the Philippines! :) Our God is indeed Jehovah Jireh! :D

 

Happy Birthday, Girl in Purple Speedo

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who didn’t know how to swim. Because of this, whenever she and her many cousins would swim, she wore floaters or salbabidas. One day, her family &  relatives vacationed  in a mansion in Laguna, and there, she and her cousins swam in the pool. The  little girl wanted to try out the new floater her Mommy brought for her  baby brother. It was a car, and swimming with  it made you look like you were driving…a car. 🙂 The little girl sandwiched her body in the floater car and  gave it a spin. In deep water.

Without her older cousins noticing her, the little girl swam towards the deep. She started kicking her legs, “steering” the car, and swimming farther into the deep. 5 feet….6 feet….she swam! everything was going smoothly until…

She kicked and steered too hard, so the floater flipped sideways, and eventually tumbled upside down. The little girl submerged in the water, and started to drown. She flapped her arms, struggled for air, screamed for help, but all her efforts failed her. Tears flowed from her eyes. For 8 seconds the little girl felt like it was the end of her world–until, suddenly….

Someone in a purple Speedo swam towards her, hugged her by the waist, and immediately plunged her up out of the deep water. Her savior calmly placed the little girl in the gutter as she continued crying. It took the little girl a while to calm down, and when she did, she faced her lifesaver: the beautiful girl in purple speedo. She was one of her many cousins.

As the years passed, the little girl learned how to swim and the girl in purple Speedo traded her one-piece for a bikini.  She and the little girl grew apart over the years because of geographical distance, but distance did not faze their love for each other and things they shared in common. The little girl found a fellow bookworm in her lifesaver, and shared her love for words. Last year,  they enjoyed watching Glee, Modern Family, SNL, and Big Bang Theory in the lifesaver’s house in San Jose. Another thing they have in common? They both have mothers (who happen to be sisters) who always reminded them to drink their vitamins and wear their “agimats” a.k.a Skalar Energy Necklaces (which they both found unfashionable). Admittedly, the little girl didn’t feel as close with her lifesaver as she did with her other cousins, but she and the girl in purple Speedo shared a unique bond. At least, that’s what she thinks.

Ate Trish, thank you for saving my life that fateful day in Villa Juliana. Thank you for handing me down your books. Thank you for teaching me to love others as they are–however different they may be. You showed your true colors even if at first I found it unnerving.  Beneath the cheetah trench coat, leather boots, and eyeliner is a beautiful & kindhearted person–a good friend and cousin who finished strong.

Thank you for the wonderful memories, Ate Trish.  One day, we’ll see each other again there in our Father’s Kingdom. We’ll hang out in each other’s mansions–watching  reruns of our favorite shows  (in clean versions), eat pizza, and write songs (for you) and stories (for me). We’ll be drinking Nikken water and wearing a more fashionable version of our agimats, aka, the Skalar Energy Pendants.

I love you, girl in Purple speedo. See you soon!

Love,
The little girl 🙂

(The eulogy I gave for my dear cousin, Trisha Jarlego Solomon, last May 18, 2013)

Belated happy birthday from down here, cousin dearest. I know Heaven is a wonderful place. I’m actually quite jealous of you. You have no more struggles to go through, no more giants to contend with, no more pain to endure, and no more sadness to deal with. I (we) still have to deal with all that. But you know what’s even sadder? Dealing will all those things without you.

We weren’t really that close when you were still here. In fact, when I saw your photos back then on Facebook, I thought to myself, “What is she wearing?!”  You were weird and eccentric. Then later I realized: your weirdness and eccentricity is what makes you beautiful.

You were kind to everyone around you. Everyone. Even to Lola, no matter how many times she pesters you to eat (para may kasabay siya. HAHA). You weren’t a perfect daughter, but you were loving, thoughtful, and grateful nonetheless. You were a really good friend. I really wish we could have become better friends, but, again, I realized, I’ll see you up There really soon, so I wouldn’t really miss out on anything now, would I? 🙂

I’m sure if you were still here last week, you would have cried at the sudden and tragic passing of Cory Monteith. You were a Gleek to the core. Upon hearing of his death, I remembered you. I remembered how much you liked Glee and the story you told me when you met some of the cast members at a bar in SanFo. I thought to myself: 2 people, both young, beautiful, exceptionally talented, and yet, gone so soon. I know God has better plans, but sometimes I wish He would take out those plans on “less deserving” people, you know? The only thing I regret even more about Cory’s death was that he died alone. But you, Ate Trish, didn’t.

Your ever-loving mother told us how your friends ushered you into Heaven with a beautiful song. She told us she was really sad at your departure, but you (and God) assured her that she would be okay and that YOU would be  even more okay. She had the strength to let you go. During your memorial service here in Manila, our cousins and friends reminisced our memories we had with you growing up. I’m sure you heard all of that. We thank you for impacting our lives in a positive way.

Never judge a book by its cover. That’s the best lesson I learned from you. I sorry I judged you, thinking you have backslid and forgot your relationship with God. Perhaps at some point you did, but regardless of what you did, I still had no right to judge you, or anyone for that matter. I have ran away from God myself. Who am I to point my finger? You taught me to be real and authentic, even if it entails bearing the demeaning looks of others. You loved and respected people in spite of them. Just like Jesus, you befriended what society would consider as “outcasts.” You saw the beauty in life, and you translated that beauty through the spoken word and through music. I have your CD, by the way. I downloaded the songs to our iTunes so that I can hear your voice over and over again, as if you were singing next to me. I’m sure the Heavenly chorale is happy with you there. 🙂

Thank you for your life, cousin.

See you soon! 🙂

 

By the way, this song is awesome. 🙂 #ForeverFave

Coming Clean

I grew up thinking that the Christian life was an uphill adventure. Every year, life gets tough as your faith muscles are being flexed to their maximum capacity, but whatever happens, you’re always improving. God only knows where I got this absurd idea, and now He tells me to delete it from my system because not only is it wrong, it’s deceiving.

The Christian life is not an uphill adventure. It’s a struggle-packed, roller coaster mess, but beautiful nonetheless.

I received Jesus into my life seven years ago, in February 2006 at the age of 12. Although I grew up in a Christian home, it was only after the Holy Spirit entered my life and started working in me that I felt, experienced, and knew what it was like to be really Christian. I developed a passion for reading and studying God’s Word. My quiet times usually lasted one to two hours. I served in various ministries and tried almost each one–tech, music, Sunday School (we call it NxtGen in our church), hosting, ushering, and retreat organization. For the first four or five years in my walk, I felt like God and I were the closest of friends. Sure, I fell every once in  while. I struggled with self-control, discipline, loneliness, a very mild case of depression, and self-esteem issues. Nevertheless, I really saw God’s hand at work in my life, and I felt His power work in and through me. I stuck to God’s Word like masking tape on paper.

Then I started drifting away.

I don’t remember how The Drift started, but I know when it started: when I let my heart, instead of the Holy Spirit with my knowledge of God’s Word, dictate my actions. Feelings usurped the throne; the Holy Spirit and the mind was deposed. Instead of guarding the heart, I let it take the lead. I behaved and acted on impulse.

There was a time last year when I had ill feelings for a certain brother in Christ for no apparent reason! I just didn’t like the way he spoke because I thought he was pretending to speak good English when he occasionally spoke with wrong grammar. I served God with him with these feelings because I did not surrender them to the Lord.

There were times (and sometimes I still do) avoid the gazes of my friends (except the really close ones) and people I know because my heart told me: “They might think you’re feeling close. Don’t greet ’em. Wait for them to call you.” So I looked the opposite direction when a person was heading my way or looking towards me and avoided them instead of making their day extra special with a smile and a sincere “Hello.”

When I’m with friends, I pretended I was a health-freak. I ate healthy food, said I exercised regularly, and counted calories. I did do those things, but I did not tell them that I also binged almost every night, had regular guilt trips to the fridge, and failed almost all my “healthy living” resolutions.

My mind brimmed with me. I’m pretty sure my mind got sick of me. I meditated on the things I wished I had–clothes, shoes, a successful career in the future, a thick checkbook, a desirable boyfriend…the list never ended. Materialism became my philosophy.

The worst side of me appeared at home. You are who you are in your comfort zone. There were weeks when I did nothing but watch television, eat gluttonously, and yell at my brothers to stop eating the snacks that were supposed to be for our baon (packed lunch), when I myself ate them. I played Pharisee pretty well. When my parents made lambing to me and asked me to massage them, I hesitated, but eventually agreed with great reluctance because “I had to ‘pay’ them back for what they did.'” In my head, I questioned what I was doing: Why was I being forced to serve them? Shouldn’t service be done voluntarily? I resented massaging them for 15 minutes, but I never hesitated to ask my Mom for my allowance and my Dad to pick me up from school. Moreover, when they told me to do simple errands for them, it’s either I delayed doing them or thought of things I should get in exchange for doing their errands for them. The list could go on and on. The perfect girl wasn’t really perfect after all.

I realized that something was wrong and that I was not being Christlike when, one night (which was last night), I grew tired of it all. I grew tired of watching too much TV, eating too much junk food, hurting too much people, and leaving myself hurt, depressed, confused, and worst off than when I started. I kept telling myself that I want CHANGE, but CHANGE wasn’t happening. I tried going back to my healthy living resolutions, character-building books, and all the other things I thought would help me bring the change I wanted. Most of them failed, and the others worked only for a short period of time. Where do I turn to? Then suddenly, sentences formed in my mind.

“You were bought with a price. It was for freedom that Christ has set you free. Stand firm, and do not be enslaved again by a yoke of slavery. I did not save you to waste your life on worthless things, Jenny. Wake up! You are a child of the living God. Don’t waste your life away. Come back to Me. I love you so much, daughter! Come home, please.”

A thousand times I failed Him, still His mercy remained. Still His grace enveloped me. Still His love welcomed me with open arms.

Last night, I repented. Today, I come clean. I’ve been meaning to “come clean” a few weeks back, but I suppose God did not put the words in my mouth until I have been truly broken and humbled. The girl who thought she was  steadily “pressing toward the goal of her upward calling in Christ Jesus” has really, been stuck in the mire but was too proud and too egocentric to see her dire and depressing predicament. She forgot she was in the state grace, which was accompanied by power. She gave up the power she had access to to gratify the passing pleasures of her sin.

I wrote this and shared my experience, hoping to encourage those who have fallen behind and warn those who are standing strong, that they may watch themselves or they, too, may be tempted. I learned three things. First, starting out perfectly does not mean you end up (or continue) walking perfectly. You trip, stumble, and fall. The Christian life requires hard work! It’s true that God is the one at work in my life, but He refuses to work alone. He wants my cooperation. He wants to teach His stubborn daughter responsibility and obedience, and He can only do that if He gives me work to do.

Secondly, it takes only a small lie to deviate you from the truth should you choose to entertain it. Do not give the devil a foothold! One of Satan’s widely used tactics is Messing With Our Minds. What’s our defense? God’s word! Those times I struggled and refused to come clean before God were the times when I neglected my quiet time and study of God’s Word. Never, ever neglect your quiet time! It may just be your greatest defense for a day of combat against the Deceiver.

Thirdly, the heart is DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS AND IS DESPERATELY SICK (Jeremiah 17:9, emphasis added). It’s not just sick–it’s DESPERATELY sick. This is truth. Forget about the “follow your heart” philosophy movies, songs, and celebrities advertise. It’s the worst piece of advice in the planet. To follow the heart means to allow it to hold the reins of your will and make your decisions for you, instead of you directing it towards making Godly decisions. The Holy Spirit taught me that I should drown my heart with Biblical truths via the mind in order for it to get used to following Him.

However, the greatest lesson I learned from my troublesome experience is not any of the things I just mentioned. They are nothing compared to this: God really, really does love me. Gently, sweetly, benevolently, passionately, mercifully, graciously. He is one of a kind. He did not give up on me, leave me, or forsake me as He promised. He disciplined me because I belonged to Him. He broke my legs and carried me through the consequences of my actions because He was my good Shepherd. I can’t thank Him enough for giving me the nth chance. God is indeed good, and I testify to that!

If you’ve been standing firm in Jesus, praise God for you! Just be careful, and keep walking by the Spirit. 🙂

If you can relate with me, and you’ve been struggling for some time now, know that there is HOPE. Forgiveness and restoration is readily within your disposal. But here’s the thing: you need to repent. God made it clear to me: once I returned to Him, I will do, think, and speak on His terms. I will work according to His timetable, His will, and His plan for me. Jesus desires not just to be your Savior, He also wants to be your LORD. He asks simply this: deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Him. To do that, you must repent or make a 180-degree turnaround to Jesus. He can and will transform you! But you have to let Him. You have to admit, as I did, that you failed and need help, and that you don’t know everything. As for me, I had to accept the fact that I won’t be completely perfect as long as I’m in my earthly body, and that I was going to be perfect on God’s terms and in His time, not mine. (As a self-confessed perfectionist, this was hard to accept at first).

Forget perfect. You are being transformed.

Forget uphill. You’re in for a rollercoaster ride filled with ups, downs, and occasionally, loops.

Forget pride. Get rid of it and repent. Saints need repentance too, you know. 🙂