JOY in celebrating her motherhood

It is Mother’s Day but we are stuck at home because the little girl is recovering from a very bad cold she had right after Golden Week. She is getting better now and enjoying a long nap.

I think this day is special. It is special because it makes me think of my own mom who lives miles away from me. We talk almost every week, and almost everyday after she had a heart attack. But I still miss her everyday.

There are so many things I want to thank her for – for being brave; for choosing to live to the fullest despite the odds; for learning to love over and over when other precious expressions of her love fail to fully communicate the message; for not growing tired of really trusting God for her everyday miracles; for choosing to never stand in the way of our lofty dreams even if it means being left on her own; for always choosing to understand our choices and accepting even those choices she did not want us to make; for being so simple in what she wants in life and being so easy to please; for making every effort to become better at mothering us even when she has every right to assert her authority; for letting us take charge in matters she does not know very well; for loving and accepting those we love; for modeling the bigger and smaller things like what it is like to follow Christ and what it is like to apologize to one’s children or what it is like to deal with loneliness and being alone and what it is like to fight in life with a quiet and understated courage and strength.

She does all that despite our constant fault finding, bickering, complaining as young children even as grown adults. She does all that without the support of a husband to add to her resources, strength and wisdom. She does all that despite having a stroke and a heart attack. She does all that despite having to face her own fears. She does all that as she goes over to the other side forgetting her own dreams. She does all that even without the certainty of a good tomorrow.

At the age of 60, she bravely traveled to places I have never been to and without hesitation, tried many things she has always wanted to do. She went to beautiful and exotic places like El Nido, Coron, Siquijor, Dumaguete, among others and lived and enjoyed like she was younger than her age; like she did not have any fears; like she did not have physical limitations. She marveled at what she saw and carefully told us how happy she felt. There was a sense of freedom and fulfillment in her voice; an excitement I knew she has been dying to experience for so long but never really had the chance; and a certain pride of being able to do what many doctors in the past told her she would never be able to do.

I can go on and on and on.

I am writing because my silly heart sometimes forget the beautiful woman who raised me and my younger brother as well as John Daniel. Sometimes it is easier to worry about her health, and remember the not so good times. Sometimes it becomes easier to remind her to be careful because she is sick and getting older than to really enjoy her everyday stories. Sometimes it is easier to give her what I think she needs than to discover what can make her smile and happy. Sometimes it is easier to tell her what she needs to do to be better than to listen to the precious stories of her heart.

Happy Mama’s Day, Mama. You mean so much to me more than my writing could ever express. I wish I had just a little bit of your faith, courage and strength of character. I wish I could really understand what is going on in your mind and make you feel loved, appreciated and treasured everyday, not just on Mother’s Day.

And I hope that you don’t get to read this because I know this will make you emotional.

I will call you again everyday and will see you soon. And we will laugh and tell stories more than we have ever done before.

I pray that you get enough sleep everyday and that you get to live more meaningful years ahead so your grandchildren can get that precious chance of getting to know a person as beautiful and brave like you.

JOY in remembering Sakura in lines and photographs

I don’t want to remember the way Sakura bloomed. I fiercely want to remember the way you looked at the unbelievably magical blossoms in the spring, and smiled.

I will never forget the way you danced upon seeing petals of Sakura fall on your cheeks, “Nanay, it is snowing Sakura.”

I will always remember watching Sakura from this very spot. Because you are right here. Even though I got so lost in someone else’s beauty, you stayed right here.

Sakura is so beautiful it touches your soul. I shall squander moments like these no more.

It is sweet to watch you sit like a little Filipino princess, reading a Thai book, eating Japanese noodles under a beautiful Sakura tree.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. You, watching her without me feeling jealous. Because I fell in love with her too.

It is amazing how your dream to have a picnic under a Sakura tree can make me forget the sleepless nights of allergy as soon as we get home.

I will never look at Sakura from the ground this way again without missing your three year old kind of smile.

As Sakura petals fall on the ground, I hear your Tatay telling your Nanay “even when you are crying you are beautiful too.” And then we dance around as you sing “It’s snowing. It’s snowing.”

This kind of moment under a Sakura tree, so rarely arrives. And when it does, it leaves even before one can deeply fall in love.

It is often in an empty playground that I hear your loudest giggles. Then you run to play with other girls and I smile more and more.

When my world turns silent, you always bear laughter in your hand for me.

One thing I love about being under a Sakura tree is the thought that even the most broken among us, can look up and see something beautiful, and dream endlessly.

You think you can dress up like a princess and sit under a Sakura tree. But you will always be more than just a princess in our eyes even as soon as rain and wind wash the tree’s magic away.

How silly it is for some pink trees to change the landscape of one’s everyday, just like that.

I wish there is a way to write in your heart how your giggles today make me regret wasted moments of yesterdays.

All of a sudden we forget how much we long to see a shooting star. We ache for Sakura to just rain on us as we lie down and close our eyes.

Why people look forward to your blooming and almost get hurt when you walk away so quickly. That I never understood. Until I saw a panorama of Sakura that stayed only for a while, did I truly comprehend such kind of loss.

They say you will come around again. But it does not change the way I grieve your fall after just a day of rain.

People often forget that the past of this beautiful Sakura tree holds memories of dead leaves and branches.

Because Sakura comes and goes so quickly, somehow I get used to saying goodbye.

I lie under a Sakura tree and wonder how much I have been forgiven. Because I know that only a forgiven soul that has been given the grace to see all that is beautiful is truly enjoying the view of these colors against the rich canvas of the entire sky.

On a few precious nights when Sakura stands out so beautifully unreal in the dark, you go through that moment where anything magical can happen. And I just started believing again.

JOY in dreaming on Hearts Day

Today I had lunch with an old friend and a new friend, two of my most favorite people from church. And any conversation with a chef and a playwright, who were both ten years my junior (argh!), would be the most interesting. In between spoonfuls of spicy chicken, Thai fried rice and curry, we talked about how God puts a dream in our hearts and seemingly takes it away from us that we almost forget. Then gently, He opens the door wide again and leads us into invisible footprints towards that same lost dream, as if telling us that He has not forgotten. That while we have thrown ourselves into our other dreams and have prayed new prayers, He remembers.

He remembers how we have longed to whip up the most original dessert recipe for a fine dining restaurant as we faithfully worked in a local hotel or in a school cafeteria.

He remembers the hours we have spent writing our very first draft of that one act play we have always dreamed of being noticed.

He remembers the way we have longed to write something that inspires people to follow Christ while struggling with secret insecurities of not being talented enough, not being good enough to write anything worthwhile.

He remembers all the fervent prayers, all those times we let out a slow breath that accompanies an even slower and gentle sound of all exasperation, disappointment and fear. “Will our dreams ever come true?”

He remembers the way we asked Him to take away the dream if it was not His will anyway because the weight of an old dream drove us crazy sometimes. He remembers the uncanny way we have doubted the perfection of His will, the logic of His timing and the meaning of the many detours that seemed to lead us farther away from the very thing that would make us our happiest, right at the center of our dreams.

He remembers the way we would reason and seek Him whenever He leads us to people and places that required us to be someone different from what we had hoped to become -a playwright doing all the nasty legwork; a seasoned chef, making meals for kids in an international school, a wannabe writer doing the dishes and the laundry and singing different versions of ABCs.

He remembers the way some people almost made us believe that our dreams were not worth it; and He remembers how heartbroken we have become in believing nasty lies about our future. He remembers the days and the nights that we stood by His promises even when we doubted and lacked in faith; even when doors were shut; even when our human hearts failed.

And He will remember the way these dreamers gave the glory back to Him, in that corner of a Thai restaurant in Tokyo, through hours of extended buffet lunch and happy discourse on how God answered prayers and fulfilled long time dreams. We talked about all things silly – from local showbiz, items in our bucket lists, recent developments at work; dreams of writing this and that; dreams of cooking this and that; dreams of going somewhere nice; dreams of doing something grand and meaningful; and some “hugot” lines that speak of the stature of our love lives.

“It is bad enough na wala kang kasama sa Valentine’s, wala pang magbibigay ng tikoy sa iyo sa Chinese New Year.”

“Mas mabuti pang hangin na lang ang kasama ko!”

“And kahit walang tikoy at hangin ang kasama sa Hearts day at sa mga susunod na araw, wag bitawan ang pangarap na ibibigay sa pinakatamang panahon. Mawala na sa uso ang tikoy, wag lang mawala ang pag-asa na ang Diyos ay mahilig rin sa love life.”

I can’t wait to see how God will answer their other dreams. Not the dreams of the chef and the playwright, but the dreams of two beautiful women seeking God’s best first, serving others, making the most of their lives and being all out in loving those who are dreaming and struggling just like them.

As I write this, I am putting my three year old to sleep and waiting for my husband to come home from Thailand. Beautiful dreams do come true and they are always worth it.

Happy Hearts Day!

JOY in loving the Pope

“More difficult than loving God is letting ourselves be loved by him.”

“The Christian is not one who speaks about the poor, no! He is one who encounters them.”

“The thing the Church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful.”

“Do not be afraid of failure. In the art of walking it is not falling that matters, but not “staying fallen.””

“I am asking you to rebel against this culture that sees…that you are incapable of true love.”

And because Pope Francis has landed on the world’s social media capital, #WelcomeToThePhilippinesPopeFrancis is trending worldwide. And I get to watch every single video on the internet. From the way he smiled like a child when his skull cap flew away and his garment covered his entire face; to the way he would kiss a newborn and many young children; to the affectionate hug he gave to Cardinal Tagle; the way he waved at all the Filipinos who chose to spend this very long weekend just to see him for very few seconds. Indeed, this Pope is well loved.

It is hard not to love him.

He has displayed and modeled love, unity and simplicity. He was very vocal about loving people and putting God first. I admired how he did not want his face on various billboards to welcome his arrival. I admired how he spoke so lovingly about other religions and groups who in the past were even critical of the Catholic beliefs and practices. I love the way he encourages the Catholics to honor that one God yet reminding them of loving and respecting people who believe otherwise. His heart breaks when people kill because of religion yet admonishes people from insulting those who did so in the name of their God. I love the way he smiles. It is so real, so fatherly, so kind. I love the way he uses words to evoke a more powerful message that all point us back to the love Jesus has been talking about – unconditional, non-judgmental and excessive. And when he speaks, a non-Catholic like me, would pause and waste my time to watch and wait. Because the message of such excessive love from a man who could have been doing other things given his power, influence and name in the world, is so precious.

That I would probably be one of those who would forego going on a vacation, just to watch him pass by.

That I would pray for his health, protection and safety from all harm.

That I would pray for my Catholic sisters and brothers to learn to put God first just as I am learning the same things everyday.

That I would let my daughter walk towards him for one precious kiss on the head.

That I would spend my time reading all his quotes to remind me of what God’s love truly is.

I think this Pope is well loved because he has loved much, in all excessive ways. And maybe because he has chosen a better path towards leading well. He leads by example, leads a simple life, and leads because of love.

How could anyone not hear a kind of love and leadership spoken so eloquently like that?

(All quotes by the Pope are from Rappler, http://www.rappler.com/specials/pope-francis-ph/quotes)

JOY in choosing to please

Every year I pray for a word that would be the theme of my year. I think it helps me keep my focus and it reminds me of what is truly important.

It has been quite challenging to find one word that would be perfect for my 2015. And today, after going through my ONE YEAR thru the BiBLE daily reading, I decided to simply please. This year, I want to PLEASE God in all that I will ever do. I want to respond to Him and to others in light of what is pleasing to Him. I want to dream, plan, go forth or even step back all because I want to please HIM. I want to count my blessings and list down all my littlegreatjoys because I know it will shape the way I feel and always point me back to what is actually pleasing the Lord. I want to pray and wait for answers knowing that in doing so, I am pleasing Him. I will serve and give faithfully all by His grace because I know that at the end of it all, it pleases Him. I will choose His peace, His joy, His blessing, His voice, His love, His promises, His will because it is best for me.

Today, Adana read her very colorful Bible for children as I read mine online. We were both reminded of the beautiful story of Noah. And the words, “exactly, closed, remembered, released, built, and pleased” just jumped out and arrested my heart today.

6.22] So Noah did every­thing EXACTLY as God had com­manded him.
7.16] Then the Lord CLOSED the door be­hind them.
8.1] But God REMEMBERED Noah
8. 10] After wait­ing an­other seven days, Noah RELEASED the dove again.
8. 20] Then Noah BUILT an altar to the Lord,
8. 21] And the Lord was PLEASED.

Thank you God for the year that was. Thank you for your grace, love and peace as I run towards 2015 with a new heart.

I want to please you. Because it gives me joy I could never find elsewhere. This year, I will live everyday choosing what is pleasing to my Father who loves me.

JOY in choosing His peace

I recently had dinner with a good European friend who is a missionary in Japan. Over a good Indian meal, we talked about what God has been teaching us recently and talked about how our past year has been. We have shared a few good meals in the past months and prayed together over a few things that a foreigner trying to do missions in a foreign country like Japan usually struggles with. It was amazing to watch her press on despite challenges and even more amazing to hear love and compassion as she talked about her efforts to reach out. So that night, we talked about our learnings and shared how God has come through for us in ways that essentially built our faith and strengthened our character. We both agreed that the things we had to go through and cry over about, were all necessary so we would draw closer to God. I like what she said about drawing closer into God’s kind of peace.

And I kept hearing the same words over and over even while we talked about other fun things.

I think I badly needed to be reminded of that. The past year has not been my best year spiritually. I did my devotions all right. I did reach out to those I could given that I live so far away from most of my friends and I have a young family to prioritize. I did go to church though I missed a good month when my allergy was so severe I had to stay indoors all the time. I went to small groups and led my own small groups. I listened to preaching podcast, read the Bible and a lot of books to deepen my faith and constantly made myself accountable to people who are walking with the Lord. One could say I was doing alright. After all, I did all the fundamentals. But as I was telling one of my closest Japanese friends about my situation, I did hit my lowest low in my spiritual life. And I know why. But I am not ready to share. And when one hits low, really low, you go back to your core. You run back to your first love. You stay close to that cross. And you tell yourself a few things to find the courage to stand once again and to start running the race with renewed strength. You start longing for a kind of peace that will settle your heart.

So as I approach this 2015, I tell myself to choose His peace. Specially in times when I feel restless about where God has placed me; when I am beginning to doubt His purposes and calling in my life; when I have more questions than answers; when I feel like I am just wasting my life away; when the pain of rejection and misguided judgment attack my spirit; when people do not recognize what I have been doing faithfully for many years; when people misunderstand why I am fighting to have the right priorities; when at times I feel that God is quiet and unresponsive to my prayers; when I feel inadequate and unqualified, I will choose Him. I will run towards His kind of peace.

Because this heart has been designed to be comforted, loved and made whole by only Him. It does not really matter if you are celebrating your highest peak or hitting your lowest low. The peace of God will make a world of difference and bring about a whole new kind of a more sustainable joy.

“I will not fret or worry. Instead of worrying, I will pray. I will let petitions and praises shape my worries into prayers, letting God know my every concern. Before I know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle me down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces my worry at the center of my life.” Philippians 4:6-7

“You are leaving me well and whole. That’s your parting gift to me. Peace. You don’t leave me the way I am used to being left—feeling abandoned, bereft. So I will not be upset. My heart will not be distraught.” John 14:27