And yet, sometimes I do

I should not awaken that which should not be awakened.

I should not fan the flames of that which should not be on fire.

I should not be wishing for things that have no business of being wished for.

I should not long for things that cannot be longed for.

I should not dream that which has no place in my life.

And yet, sometimes, I do. 

I awaken. I fan. I wish. I long. I dream. 

Even if the pain of unrequitedness may make me double over and throw up and despair.

I cannot help myself. 

The mirror

When you look in the mirror, what do you see? 

...a wounded shadow that refuses to look back for fear of what it will see? 

...eyes that look longingly at what's just beyond the edge of the mirror? 

...lips that ache to whisper what's really inside but scared that once it passes them it will come true? 

...hands that are reaching out to touch and caress the air, dreaming that there's something solid to actually touch and caress? 

...a nose that's afraid to breathe in the elusive scent that it has smelled all its life but now feels cloying and suffocating? 

...a face that seems as familiar as life but at times feels like a stranger trying to crawl out of the mirror and threatening to take over your life? 

Do you dare to look straight at the mirror and see yourself as you really are?

Or would you like to paint over the cracks and the blemishes and the freckles and the uneven features first?

Or do you stare and stare and stare until you see what you actually want to see? 

Or do you refuse to look until eventually you disappear? 

I dare you to look at the mirror. 

Then tell me what you see.  

On celebrating birthdays past the age of 30

Yes, I admit and I’m proud of it. I’m turning 37 in a few days. And one thing I’ve learned when I started “celebrating” in the line of 3 is that you should not expect surprise parties, endless gifts, or basically anything special prepared by other people for you on your supposedly special day.

Yes, you’ll get endless greetings on Facebook and Twitter from people who took a few seconds out of their time to spell Happy Birthday or HBD (which i never get, but still appreciated nonetheless)

Yes, the people you live with who can stay awake by the stroke of midnight will probably greet you and tease you that you’re old and that maybe you should jump at 12MN so you can become taller (always did, never worked. trust me)

Yes, you’ll get the occasional sweet message or special gift, but it’s not like when you were 7 or even 12 when you cannot sleep coz it’s just like Christmas morning all over again when you open presents that were bought just for you

Yes, you’ll get a little weepy and emotional and introspective a few days or hours before you turn another year older (which is not always a bad thing. unless you’re always weepy and emotional and introspective the other 364 days of the year)

But one thing I’ve learned for the past four years is that, if you want your day to be special, you have to make it special. Do not put the “burden” of making it extraordinary on other people. You yourself have to make sure that what you do on your special day is what you really want to do.

Invite the people dearest to you to a quiet dinner.

Throw yourself a kiddie bash at Jollibee coz you never had a kiddie party there.

Go and travel to a beach alone, without bringing any gadget or form of communication (uhm, just make sure you let someone know where you’re going, in case there’s an emergency) - I'M DOING IT THIS YEAR (well, sort of)

Pick a favorite book, go to a coffee shop where no one knows you and read all day

Gather all your crazy friends and do a rockeoke, broadway-eoke, One Direction-eoke, Aerosmith-eoke or whatever it is you want to eoke

Stay in bed the whole day and catch up on that sleep that you’ve been missing

Start the first chapter of that great novel you’ve been planning to write

Make yourself feel better (and crazy) by replying the whole day to everyone who greets you

Start a new, yearly tradition

Do something you’ve never done before

Reconcile with that person you’ve been meaning to say sorry to or forgive

Visit a museum

Spend all day immersed in God’s Word

The possibilities are endless…you can do whatever you want to on your day. You have a free pass to be as crazy or as ordinary or as extraordinary as you want to be. Just make it count. It’s not everyday you turn _____ right?

On the strength of women

One thing that will always amaze and fascinate me is the depth of strength of some of the women I personally know.

There are those who have been badly hurt by the men in their lives (some over and over and over) but have managed to come out of it even stronger, full of grace, and still willing to even give love a chance, if it comes their way.

There are those who have been betrayed by the women in their lives and who still manage to speak forgiveness and in time, repair the broken relationships.

There are those who have chosen to raise their child or children on their own for one reason or another and who have become both father and mother to them. And the kids lack nothing and are sometimes even richer because of their circumstance. 

There are those who are still in the midst of turmoil and uncertainty but who still choose to become a good friend to those who need a shoulder to cry on,instead of moaning about her own troubles.

There are those who choose to give up a convenient life and fight for those who are victims of the injustice of this world, trying to make the world a better place one step at a time.

There are those whose faith goes beyond just going to church on Sundays or conforming to what a "good, Christian woman" is. They are living lives that make people look at them and say, "I see Christ in her life and I would like to know Christ better because of what I see in her." 

When I am in the presence of these women,I am humbled and I am blessed to know them and to call some of them my friends. And I remember their strength and example when I am suffering in my own world of pain. 

You are there

When my rebellious heart wants to run away once again, You are there

When I am in the midst of my chaotic thoughts and unruly emotions that seesaw endlessly, You are there

When I praise You in one breath and then rail at Your perceived injustices the next, You are there

When I am seemingly too numb to feel any sort of emotion towards You, You are there

When my intellect cannot accept that everything is and should be about You, You are there

When I am on an emotional high and then suddenly fall flat on my face, You are there

When all I want to do is hide my thoughts from You, You are there

When my confusion and indifference are all mixed up in my head, You are there

When I feel unloved, insecure, inadequate and unworthy for no reason at all, You are there

When my darkest thoughts threaten to wipe out all sense of joy and love in me, You are there

When I wait in silence, with hope, desperation and longing, You are there

Always you are there. In the light and in the dark. Waiting for me, waiting with me, waiting on me

And so I continue to wait on You with eyes of faith

Do what You will

“God sees through your heart.”

Should be comforting words right? But these words fill me with dread and trepidation and unease and discomfort. Because if He could see the real me, then He would turn away in disgust. Strip away all the layers of pretension, of trying to make myself look good, of pretending I’m okay, and all you have left is a flawed, messed up, and yes, oftentimes evil soul. Who would not turn away from that?

But wonder of wonders, He did not. He could really see through me and He loves every fiber of my being. Not because I’m particularly lovable underneath all that. But because He chose to do so. Because He sees me through the Blood of His Son who died in my place. Because He is God. Because He sees through me, beyond even that layer of evil that is underneath the heart I choose to present to the world. And He sees His creation

And that still brings a bit of dread and comfort all at the same time. Because then it means it’s no use trying to fool Him into thinking I’m all that. Because I’m definitely not, no matter how much I desperately try to trick others into thinking I have it together.

But it’s in the admission that I am nothing special, in the acceptance that I will never be enough, then comes surrender; surrendering myself into becoming the person that He is trying to make me into. It’s not true that He does not take into consideration the desires of my heart. If I am truly becoming attuned to Him, then my heart starts becoming more like His. And my desires become not my own, but His.

This will not come overnight. Heck, I don’t think this will even come in 10 years. Or 20. Or 30. And it won’t be pretty. In fact, it might bring more pain, heartache and might literally cause me my earthly life. But I will be transformed. He will transform me. And the reward? Him. Even if it’s only Him in the end, it should all be worth it. And even while I’m saying and typing this, there’s a struggle in me, rejecting the idea that there should be more than just Him. But we all know that at the end of it all, we will know and understand that He really is our just reward.

So here I am. Do what You will, even if I rebel and struggle against that will, do what You will.

Love through affirmation

Originally written in 2014

“Man lives by affirmation even more than he does by bread.”

— Victor Hugo

The other day, I had to make three FB posts for three friends who were celebrating their birthdays on the same day. I always find it nice whenever I have to write even just a few lines about people I love, just to let them know how wonderful they are and to let other people see why they are awesome.

And then it dawned on me that I (or we, actually)  rarely do that anymore. I can wax enthusiastic about all my favorite pop culture things of the moment, but it only takes a friend’s birthday to make me eloquent about all the things I love about them. Is it easier for me to express my feelings about some fictional character rather than tell actual people that I think they’re awesome, even if there is no actual occasion? And worse, it’s much more common to complain about why so and so people are acting like this and that, rather than talk about why I am grateful for a certain person in my life.

I am speaking from experience when I say that even during my lousiest days, even just one word of appreciation or affirmation from a loved one, a friend or even just an acquaintance can immediately save my day.  You never know when one text, email, FB message or a more public FB post or tweet, saying something wonderful about your brother or sister or classmate or officemate can actually be the very thing that they need right at that moment.  And you’ve also read stories about how an unexpected word of praise actually meant saving the life of a suicidal person.

So I’m challenging myself, and you, if you feel inclined to do so, to speak private and public words of affirmation every once in a while. Or if at this very moment, you feel that you need to say thank you to a person even if he or she hasn’t done anything for you at that particular time, don’t squash that instinct; just do it. And remember, affirmation is not just for what someone has done for you or for others; it is also simply an expression of appreciation for someone just for who he or she is.

Only for a moment

*written 6 years ago and yet the memory is still vivid enough

I can still see it so clearly in my head, it’s scary and funny and peaceful all at the same time.

I rush home to work after another challenging day reading and writing about books. I open the door, take a deep breath, ready for the chaos that will greet me

Then I see him sitting in his favorite chair, reading a book as always. He looks up, smiles, then goes back to his book while asking me the usual “how was your day?” questions

I am not offended, coz that’s how he has always been and that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him

I sit beside him, put my feet on his lap and he absent mindedly starts rubbing them, knowing how I need it everyday

I remind him that I have to wake up at 2AM because Liverpool has a game, and he smirks and snickers, “Gads, you’re such a geek!”. This coming from the man who has read Lord of the Rings a hundred times.

Then I hear the sound of small feet on the stairs and I brace myself for a hug attack

“Maaaaaammmeeeee!!!”

A 4 year old bundle of joy rushes into my arms and peppers me with her never-ending questions, never waiting for answers, just needing to get the words out of her preternaturally curious head

“’Do we really have to take a nap in the afternoon to grow taller? Didn’t you take naps when you were a kid? Why do I have to wait til I’m 6 to go to a real school? If we don’t believe in Santa Claus but others kid believe in him, will he become real someday? Why does my playmate not have a TV in his house? How will he know what will happen to Dora next? How come all kids have to eat their veggies but you don’t have to?”

I inhale her lemongrass scent and try to make sense of her questions, but I know I never will be able to answer them all to her satisfaction. And so I just breathe her in

He reminds me that maybe it’s time to eat already. But wait, I have to check my email and my tumblr and tweet all the new questions that our lovely-but-suddenly-becoming-rambunctious-due-to-chocolates-she-consumed daughter

Okay, so he then reluctantly leaves his book and drags her to the kitchen while reminding me, “15 minutes only please”. My heart swells because I prayed for someone who totally gets me. He does totally get me. Most of the time at least.

As I hear the rattling of the plates and spoons and forks, I wonder how I became so blessed. And then I tweet that exact sentence.

As we sit down the table, I smell the coffee brewing in the background and I listen to her incessant chatter and watch him lovingly look at her. My fork falls to the floor and I automatically pick it up.

When I get up, I realize that the table is empty. The room is filled with me, my coffee, my thoughts. No one else

And my heart breaks just a little for me and the family that lived in my head for those few minutes.

And then I remembered that this is the path I have chosen. And I smile because I remember too that I am happy for the silence and the peace that comes with it.

They lived but only for a moment. There was a twinge, but only for a moment. And in that moment, like all the times before, I cried out to God. And He heard me and gave me the peace that surpasses understanding.

There Was This Guy

(Something I wrote back in 2009)

I forgot which TV show or movie it was that had a character whose stories always start with “There was this girl”…

When we were in Boracay a few weeks ago and I was bonding with an officemate, I realized that most of my stories start with “There was this guy….”

And so I had to relive all of my past failures when it came to this stupid thing called love

How I had a playlist for each and every boy that I ever liked (and yes, pre-mp3 days, I had mixed tapes)

How, statistically, 60% of the guys I loved ended up with my bestest friends

How, when I look back on all the guys I ever liked or loved, I cringe to death (with one exception, and he knows who he is)

How, statistically, 100% of all the relationships that I had and even the non-existent ones (meaning, that those that occurred only in my head/imagination/dreams) ended up in nauseating heartbreak

How I always let my heart take over my head each and every time

How I swore to never fall in love again, then a few weeks later, I am head over heels over someone inappropriate or unreachable or just someone who doesn’t know I exist

How I regularly drunk dialed my best friend in Japan and just ranted about how stupid guys are and ended up paying a fortune in cellphone bills

How unrequited love became synonymous to my name

How I have now finally arrived to the conclusion that I do not want to get married and that relationships are probably the one thing that will continually elude me and that maybe, just maybe, I am okay with that

And I know that in a few months, when I meet you for coffee somwhere, my story will probably start with “So there was this guy…”

The pains and joys of baring your soul

Photo by Jon De Vera

 

On a clear day on January, I had to do one of the most difficult things I've done in recent years: I came face to face with myself and with my God, and finally admitted things I hated about myself, how much I hated myself, why I hated myself and how that was robbing me of joy. If I was younger, there would have been tears, recrimination and even more pain. But now there weren't any tears but it doesn't mean there wasn't any less pain.  

But then God led me to take another step and that is to share a bit of what I was going through with  other people by writing about it and also by speaking about it in front of people I know, people I don't know that much, and people who knew me well. Not to gain sympathy or gather compliments (although the reassurances I got afterwards were always welcome and a balm to the soul), but to maybe let someone know who is going through the same thing that they are not alone. And believe me, it is a comfort to realize that what you're feeling doesn't make you weird or evil or hopeless case. Because sometimes, we are on a journey together, and to know that even if you are taking different paths, but knowing that there is someone out there going through similar things, helps a lot.

But baring your soul, or at least part of it isn't always fun. It is difficult enough to share your deepest feelings with people who know and love you, even if you have the assurance that they will love you no matter what. It is even more difficult to bare even just a fraction of it to people who do not know you, who might not understand, who might think your problems are nothing compared to what other people are going through, who might judge you. But it is most difficult to actually bare your soul to God and to yourself, to face all your inadequacies and your real feelings, your real pains, the things that only you can see and know and that you dare not let anyone else see.

It is hard because you know once you have admitted what is wrong and what is painful, you cannot remain where you are right now, hiding and letting these things fester because you are afraid of what will happen if you peel off the layers one by one. But you know you have to deal with it, as tedious and as painful as the process may be, because in order to heal, this has to happen.

And so this part of my blog will be part of that healing process. If you join me on this journey, thank you for reading my words. And thank you for walking this path with me. Let's see where the good Lord leads me. 

And if you too are going on a similar path, learning to love and accept yourself scars and flaws and all, your words spoken or written in private or in public will be very much appreciated. 

My Lord is leading me to move, and as Obiwan Kenobi told Rey, "These are your first steps."

 

Of regrets, parks, and 7-UP

She sits alone on the bench, a can of 7-Up on one hand, a blank notebook and pen on the other, picking up her useless, internet-less phone every once in a while, oblivious to the hordes of people passing behind her.

At the moment, her heart is content, yet there’s still that annoying, nagging thought that this is not how it’s supposed to be. Or that this is how she chose it to be and now the weight of regret is starting to weigh down on what she thought was her already callused heart. She looks to her left and sees a young mother and her older husband, with a cute, chubby baby running around. She looks to her right and sees a young couple sitting on the bench, the boy reading a book (an anomaly in this day and for his age), the girl painting the scenery with her hipster water colors, both of them just silently sitting next to each other, breathing in the other yet barely speaking. She hears groups of friends speaking in various tongues and tones, but all obviously basking in the beauty of this place and that day.

And she feels like these are the ghosts haunting her, and she wonders why she is alone on this bench, with a soda in one hand, writing with the other.  And while cute kids weave through the trees, kicking around a football, daring her to come and play with them, again she wonders why this is the path that has led her to this moment, to this bench, amidst the trees in a strange land, alone and pensive, both content and sad all at the same time. And while there are one or two (okay, maybe more) regretful things she’s done in her life up to now, she banishes the ghosts and the trudging pain that threatens to obscure the sun and the green and the laughter and the beauty all around her. She manages to convince herself that this is where she’s supposed to be, really.

And she sits still for as long as she can.

Lord, help me to see

I sit on the side of the road and I heard He was passing by. And so when I feel Him draw near, I cry out...

"Lord, Son of God, help me!"

He gently asks, "My child, what do you want from me?"

And so decades of pain and longing bursts forth from me.

Lord, I cannot see.

I cannot see myself as You see me.

All that I see is what the world wants me to believe

That I am fat

That I am ugly

That I am unfashionable

That I am not interesting enough to get to know

That I am clumsy

That I am dirty

That I am sinful

That I am unloved

That I am unworthy

That I am not enough

But Lord, I know that if You open my eyes, I can see myself the way You see me.

But do I trust You enough to believe You?

Because after all, You are biased because You love me unconditionally.

But that should be enough right?

So instead of just showing me how You see me, what I want is for You to show me that Your love is enough.

That even if the world thinks those things about me, that shouldn't hinder me from doing what I love, from loving people, from doing what You want me to do and that is to bring glory to Your name in whatever I do.

I want to stop feeling this way about myself.

I want to start seeing and believing how You see me.

I want to start accepting that Your love is enough.

I don't want to be crippled anymore by the expectations of others.

I don't want to be paralyzed anymore by the fear of not being enough.

I don't want to be blind anymore to what I'm supposed to be seeing.

But this is not just for myself, because I know I cannot live just for myself.

And in knowing myself, in accepting myself, in accepting Your love...

I learn to love and live for others.

I learn to look beyond myself.

I learn to love the abundant life that You created for me.

I learn to be the best version of myself that You want me to be, being changed from glory to glory.

I learn to start living intentionally for Your glory.

Lord, help me to see.