God's Light

Last night, I read the one of the most beautiful testimonies from a friend who is like a younger sister to me. To some extent, I had been sharing with her my experiences with God. She had told me in return that she believed in God, and His miracles. But, I didn't learn the reason until yesterday why.

She had been sickly as a growing child, who frequented hospitals in the Philippines. Her mother had to leave her, when she was six, in order to make a living. So, she was left in her aunts' care, and even nannies, when her aunts were in school. She admitted to not having much financially, therefore, her illness had been extremely burdensome. At one ocassion, she would be diagnosed with a certain kind of malady, only to find in the next rush visit that it was not the right diagnosis at all. And in the next hospital visit, her current diagnosis still proved inaccurate. That went on. Hours and hours of drive to the hospital and back. IV medications. Until it had gotten to the point, where she had to be bedridden. Her mom came home to take care of her. Her mother didn't give up. But because of desperation and superstition, the family sought out the help of witch doctors. Still, to no avail.

With no money, it seemed like hope was truly gone. But it wasn't. One of my friend's uncles had given her mom the money they needed to go to a prestigious hospital in Manila. They, of course, took the opportunity.

She was in the ER, when two doctors passed by. They weren't ER doctors, but they specialized in the illness she was suffering from: Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (SLE). They had recognized one of the symptoms on her face. They examined her, and little by little, she was physically healed. My friend still has to take some of the medications, that affects her growth spurt.

She shared with me though, that despite her tiresome ordeal, she praised God for providing her such dedicated and supportive family and relatives, who were determined to stand by and fight for her life with her, at a time of such trials. And in spite of what she had to go through, she kept her faith in God.

What an inspiring individual! I was simply blown away because her pain is beyond me. I couldn't imagine what it must have felt for her, and her loved ones. "It was so much suffering, but it brought me closer to God," she confided.

And yes, indeed. Instead of succumbing to her illness, she looked up to God because she knew that He is the Light. She didn't waiver from looking for the hope found in God's light. Through our conversation last night, I realized an important truth: Sufferings are God's blessings. They are not curses at all, but beautiful opportunities to call upon His name, to meet Him, to get to know Him, to start a relationship with Him, if not maintain one. In times of darkness, God gave us the stars of hope, patience, peace, and certainty, in His majestic sky of love and grace.

Victory!

Tonight, God has blessed us with His presence in my mother's formal sitting room as our Bible study group gathered together to immersed in His Word and spiritual wisdom. He spoke again to us in a beautiful message, given by Tita Jo. And as Raymond Edman, a Christian author, says: Never doubt in the dark what God told you in the light. To me, when I shared my insight on the quote, it means that we should take root in God's word all the time, so that when we are facing any kind of challenges, we won't stumble. We will not take the devil's bait to temptation, wrongdoing, and misconduct.

One of my favorite life metaphors is a succinct and common declaration that life is a battlefield. With that, comes another favorite life metaphor of how life is a choice. We can act impulsively based on the losses we've suffered, the pain we're enduring, or we can keep our faith in Christ and strategize according to God's Word and what we know of who He is, what His purposes are and what His will is for us. Therefore, the decision is up to us. Just be forewarned, however, that free we may be to follow what we want, we are not free of its consequences.

The discussion mainly revolves around the trials and tribulations we encounter as Job had, and how best to tackle the obstacles we are currently dealt with. Job was an extremely wealthy man who had ten children, and whom God greatly favored because of his righteousness and blamelessness. He had everything until he lost his livestock and servants, his ten children were killed, and he also developed a disease that prevented his friends from recognizing him. However, in spite of his sufferings, he still found reasons to praise God by affirming His greatness and sovereignty over everything in the world.

He was able to describe who God is to his friends because he maintained an intimate relationship with God. Not only did Job know who God is, but he also understands God's characterization. Because of that understanding, he accepted the things that God willed for to happen in his life. Now isn't that beautiful?

Through Job's pain, he endured and soldiered on. And we should do exactly just that. Everyday, we are constantly fighting our own battles--physically, mentally, financially, and emotionally--that are unfortunately draining us of our rations of hope, peace, and patience. The more we lose on those fronts, the more our personal spiritual warfares become hectic. However, as humans in today's society, we often fail to recognize the red flag in targeting our focus on dangers that only affect us on earth, while we are temporarily assigned and camped in it. Job's tactic was different, on the other hand. And definitely much wiser too.

Job didn't focus on the carnage around him. It was there, as he knew well, portrayed by his complaints. But Job understood that though what he was enduring was painful, it was ultimately up to God. He accepted God's control over his life. Job also surrendered his life to God's plan and purposes because he knew that God's sovereign reigns. Job understood who God is, and has accepted God's role in his life, he was able to remain in his faith in Him. And because of Job's beautiful example of faith, he lived through the ordeal.

I learned of Job's story through one of my closest and oldest friends' blog a couple of years ago. I had been running across the battlefield in anger and impatience at the time. I was headstrong, determined to fight for my life, but I didn't have the right fighting necessities such as the patience, trust, and wisdom--all through faith in Christ. And truly, from my own personal experience, that made the war on all fronts worse.

Don't make the same mistake I did. Seek out Christ's character first instead. And sincerely, once you have, use who He is as your protection. Use His eternal promises to fight with. Rest assured, not only will you be delivered, but you will claim your victory through Him, who has suffered the worst yet endured... through Him who lives.

Gratitude

Over again, God continually reveals to me how patient He is with me all the time. I had learned a while ago that if I don't immerse myself in learning more about God, or developing a personal spiritual relationship with Christ, I grow distant. Not just from my faith in Christ, but also in the people and things around me. So lately, I have dedicated myself to reading daily devotionals again. I'm also rereading Rick Warren's The Purpose Driven Life. This time, I'm set on actually finishing it. On top of that, I'm determined to also study the Bible. I actually started reading it last night, following one of the Bible reading guides that my family's Bible Study group leader handed us in the beginning of the year. But before I share what I learned from them, here's an epiphany I had before starting this particular post:

I was restlessly going back and forth from the bed to the desk and back again, when my Bible, the Bible that my dad had given to me, was speaking to me. I looked at the cover, nothing extraordinary. I flipped through the pages, there was nothing in it either. And I just sat on my bed, wondering what it was telling me. Until I got it.

I don't remember the exact date when my dad gave me the Bible. But it was around the time when I wouldn't go to church at all. It was around the time when I made excuses to not go either to church or to any other Bible study. I remember treating the Bible like any other book, which is a mistake to me now since it is clearly unlike any other book--at all. This particular Bible--because I actually have three--is an archaeological NIV study Bible. I'm not so interested with its archaeological aspect yet, about the ancient histories and cultures mentioned in the Bible, because I really want to focus on God's Word itself, although I know that learning about it archaeologically is also important. What I love most about this Bible though, is its introductory pages before the books themselves. It gives you a background information on who wrote it, where, when, for whom they wrote it, what to expect in the following chapters, the themes found in the books. I find it extremely helpful!

When I finally realized what God revealed to me through my Bible, I couldn't help but smile. His patience truly is abundant. He knows and understands me because He, alone, created me. For Him, and His purposes. There have been many occasions when I've cried in frustration, believing that my parents do not get me at all. But God knew. He knew that I would get here. It was just a matter of opening my senses, my mind, my heart to the idea that He is there for me through thick and thin, carrying me when I'm unable to push forward, pulling me up when I'm down, hiding me in His protection, delivering me when I'm tempted, and loving me when I hate myself. Because of what God has constantly shown and provided for me, I know that Jesus Christ is my everything.

Thank you O God, for every single little thing! =')

Psalm 40:1

In the past few days, I've been reading a book of compiled verses, called God's Promises for Every Day. My mom and I bought it from a gift shop in the hospital she works for. It's been just sitting serenely in my mother's office area for quite some time now, unless of course I take it and randomly flit through the pages. But I haven't actually dedicated my time to reading it until recently. Now that I am finished with it, I can say that it truly added to my spiritual knowledge and understanding, as well as spiritual acceptance of who Jesus is in my life, and what the Word of God can do for us when we are in the lowest points of our lives. I highly recommend it if you want to check it out. There is no author, but the ISBN is 0-8499-6268-4 by the W Publishing Group. Forget wanting to check it out. You need to check it out! It's a precious literary gem that you could LITERALLY bring with you anywhere you go, at anytime, to remind you of God's love for us, to remind you that you will find your answers and security in Jesus Christ. And really, investing your money and your time in this book for what you will have in your life in eternity with God, is truly worth it.

So, on to Psalm 40:1. This verse says, "I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry." Now, the story behind this beautiful piece of Scripture is really simple. It reflects my relationship with God lately, especially the things He has provided for me this summer. It's been full of spiritual enlightenment, understanding, acceptance, restoration and healing. It's life- transforming, and it's relationship-enhancing. The miracles He has done in me and for me have been nothing short of beautiful. He is so merciful in His patience, and so compassionate in His love, that it has truly been exhilarating getting to know Him, and being mesmerized by everything big and small He has created, all for our characters' maturity and growth. Because of the endowed blessings this summer, not only am I able to understand my parents more, but I've come to appreciate their sacrifices, and to love them more. Because of the little 'epiphanies' that God has showed me through daily objects, nature, and other people, I am now more assured and decisive. The line between right and wrong, black and white, what is and what isn't, has never been more distinct.

During the summer, I've been afraid and doubtful numerous of times. However, whenever I call upon the Lord, to ask Him for comfort, security, protection, deliverance, and guidance, He's been there to answer and see me through every time. During this summer, I've been able to let go of a person who meant a lot to me, but also brought out the worst in me. I wouldn't have gotten the courage to go through it, if it wasn't for the Holy Spirit pushing me and telling me that it was time. And for that, I've been able to focus more on my spiritual journey. There just comes a point in our walk with Christ that we come across a fork in the road, where we have to ultimately choose between continuing our walk with God or deviating from this priority to pursue another one. Also, I got into a fight with one of my oldest and longest friends. It came to the point where I just lost my temper and patience with her, which was too much because I hardly lose my temper and patience with any of my friends at all. For weeks, I blocked her from everything. For weeks, there was just no communication of any kind. And I thought that that wasn't the way to go. Maybe our friendship had truly ran its course, but it doesn't mean that we shouldn't make amends. I prayed to God again. I asked Him to take away my hurt and pride, to soften my heart, and He did. I apologized to her, and she also apologized for the things she's done to break off our friendship. After that, I just felt good that although things could never be the same between us again, we are still grateful for the things that bonded us, and the things that we shared together. There was also that inner, serene acceptance, that allowed us to move on.

The thing that I've come to realize about having a personal relationship with Christ is, He is always there for me, regardless of the circumstances I find myself in. My only regret is really not knowing Him sooner. But even with that regret, I am still grateful that I am one of the blessed ones, blessed enough by God's grace to have known, have learned from, and have been inspired by, His one and only Son.

The Story of Creation

Growing up, I've always been enthralled with the first few chapters of Genesis, of how God created the world and of how He created us. It was awe-inspiring. The reality was, the story of creation was the only nugget of truth pertaining to God that I strongly believed in as a child. The rest of the bible stories were just other stories. Some are lost in back alleys of memory, while others remain standing firm in streets of familiarity.

Then, of course, I started hearing about these scientific notions that God did not exist, that there was no way He could have created heaven and earth, water and land, day and night, animals and plants, in seven days. And to my younger adolescent mind, that became true. But it wasn't long until I finally realized that if these people's theories on our creation were true, then why do they keep on exploring, experimenting, inventing, and innovating to continue proving themselves? So, I happily went back to the story of creation in Genesis, which remained the same for thousands of years. And I was satisfied. Don't get me wrong though. I highly admire exploration, experimentation, invention, and innovation. Honestly. I just developed a higher reverence for the Word of God. And not just that, the Bible has this gravitational pull, making me fall in love with God. To make matters better and greater, I find myself falling for Him everyday, with every new experience, with every new lesson, with every new realization.

For instance, last Tuesday, my family and I went to SeaWorld for the first time. I say first because we're going back there. I don't know when, I don't know how, but we're going back there one way or another. I had fun. I only went to three of the rides though: Shipwreck Rapids, Wide Arctic, and Bayside. Oh my goodness! How I wish we could have gone on the Bayside Ride during sunset. Oh well, next time. But it was so beautiful!!! Then, we went to all the aquariums, where I was just blown away.

There were shoals of exquisite fishes. I was just completely mesmerized because I had no idea that there were actually different kinds of fish under the sea. Really. I sound completely ignorant now, but it's the truth. And they, like the trees I blogged about previously, are just like people too! Take for example this arrogant little fellow with yellow-black stripes for scales, who swam like he owned the place. It was probably insanely mundane to him, to have supposedly intelligent human beings pointing and gaping foolishly at him and his kind. Then, there was this gracious and friendly fish, who enjoyed the attention and loved touching the glass with its puny fins. On the other side though, I feel bad for the old, lone lobster. He was such a recluse! I think he was envious of the groups of people and fishes having a merry time together though. He looked really glum.

As we were exiting the place, I couldn't help but look back. And I couldn't help realizing that those populated tanks of exhibition are a part of God's creation.

That afternoon, my parents, youngest brother and I went to the beach. I think that it was just downright madness for our part if we didn't take the chance to go. And the scene was breathtaking. Although, it wasn't like any of those blue-green waves with an orange-gold backdrop kind of painting that I was accustomed to seeing, it had its own picturesque charm. So amid delightful bouts of laughter from my mother, brother, and myself, the servants of delicate clouds dutifully covered their glorious master. And as the waves playfully knocked us down, as the sea foams embraced our bodies, I couldn't help but look up.

The people around me and myself were savoring another part of His creation... the creation that He created for us because of His love for us. And looking back at the experience, I couldn't help but feel that He was enjoying His creation in that part of the world as much as we were, if not more.

Reflecting on it now, as a young adult, we are truly blessed to have God as our Almighty Father and Heavenly Creator. Though, it saddens me that only a few among the billions of people have praised God for this gift of nature, and what's more, who have not realized that His mighty creation does not stop there. But I am reassured that in God's time, those people will recognize God for who He is, and what beautiful miracles He has done for the creation He loves so much!

Black Audi

It always strikes me funny how God reminds me, and pushes me to do the things I've prayed to Him for. Not in a comical sense, of course, because I know that He will always see me through. But rather in an astonishingly funny kind of way. The kind that gets you amused because you weren't expecting that particular divine intervention at that exact moment. It's also the kind that gets you excited, realizing that He has answered your prayers, another one of those confirmations that He is at work in your life. Furthermore, it's the kind that gives you the signal "go," indicating that God has started His part. But most importantly, it's the powerful kind of way, because not only are you assured that He is with you, but you find yourself immensely humbled and thankful that this Almighty God is actually there for you, and that He is helping you. And that is one of the most beautiful things that God has freely given us because of His love for us, which is in itself, another wondrous thing.

This is what happened to me this past few days. What makes it best and special this time is the involvement of my father. People who do not know of our history as parent and child would think that I'm a Daddy's Girl. And I guess we do have moments to prove that particular assumption; when in reality, he has this habit of reminding me that I'm the cause of his white strands of hair, a great factor of his high stress level. I never doubted that my father loves me, but because he is so strict with the rules he enforces, I forget sometimes that it's all for my betterment. And that forgetfulness and misunderstanding in my part causes most of the friction. Nevertheless, in spite of my rebellious nature growing up, my father has never turned me down whenever I ask for his help. He never fails to turn up either, to make me understand.

Like for instance, when I was fourteen, I developed a fear of heights after a friend of mine took me to Top Gun and Psycho Mouse in Great America during our graduation field trip. I guess the names of these coasters foreshadow the years of traumatizing height related experiences that followed. At Universal Studios. At Disneyland. And in both cases, my dad was there to lend a comforting arm.

Recently, however, my fear of heights haunted me once again when my mom started prodding me to drive through the 101 ramp. Hello??? She knows that I'm deathly afraid of high physical places, especially ones where I don't believe that the physical supports are enough. And in my head, I kept thinking. This was really something that bothered me. But then again, my mum has always been courageous and unafraid. At least, I've never seen her avoid something. And so, whenever I drove to church or to GCC, it was always through McDowell Rd. It was either that or I wouldn't drive at all. So, she cooperates. Anything to make me drive, which she says is something I need to do... just like math. And just like math, indeed, it was with dread that I continue to do it.

But not for long!

My dad came home last week from California. And last Sunday, he helped me overcome my fear of driving through the 101 ramp due to my fear of heights. Though I highly doubt that I would have progress at all, if it wasn't for God's help in the forms of televangelists Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyer.

Sunday morning came, and the family had my favorite kind of Sunday breakfast: coffee, toast, and my mum's omelet. It started out as any other Sunday. My younger brothers playing. My parents and I sipping coffee and bouncing off questions concerning the news. At 10am, the TV autotuned to Joel Osteen's program. His message for the day was about "putting action behind our faith." I was immediately curious, and it definitely caught my attention. I got the funny feeling that it was going to be one of those experiences when I realize that God is answering one of my prayers. And guess what? It was.

As I was listening to Joel Osteen's service, I became aware that it was familiar, that it was almost similar to what my point was in a previous post (Psalm 91). He had talked about how we need to show God our faith for our prayers to come through. In other words, we need to put some action behind our faiths. In my post, I had emphasized trust. A word that is often a verb. A definite and fine example of "action" in this particular context. Needless to say that I saw it as a sign.

On the way to church, I kept replaying Joel Osteen's words in my head. Surely... surely it was telling me something? It would have been the greatest coincidence in my life, if God wasn't speaking to me at that time, a few minutes earlier. And particularly taking into account my post on Psalm 91, it was too much to simply be a coincidence.

At church, we heard another great message from Pastor Allan on the three-word-phrases that enhances our relationships of all kinds (but this is for another post). But I was still so focused on what I had heard at home. On the way back, I was still contemplating about it when I realized that it was about time that I drive through the 101 ramp. I realized that it was a test. Of my faith to God. Of my dedication and perseverance as an individual. Sitting in the car, and acting as a passenger again, I thought, I've seen both the beautiful and ugly aspects of being a passenger (as described in my previous two posts), so maybe it's time that I try the ramp--one of these days... of course. I was resolved on that. I just didn't have any idea on when it was actually going to be.

I had also thought that that was the end of that. It wasn't until my family and I arrived at home, and got ourselves situated that God gave me another sign. This time, through Joyce Meyer. My mother was flipping through the channels, when I saw the timeslot for another Joyce Meyer show. It hadn't started yet, so it was good. And I got a bit excited. It would be another enligtening and entertaining episode, as I have come to see her telecasts. The autotune notice appeared on the bottom right of the screen. My mom clicked OK. And there was Joyce Meyer, walking across her stage, greeting her excited audience.

My parents and I watched it... and bam! Joyce Meyer affirmed the sign I got my Joel Osteen's message. At that point, I was just beside myself with delight. I could barely contain my fit of giggles. The first thing she said pertained to death, "The most exciting thing about being a Christian is, what scares everybody else, does not scare us!" And this, "you know you're closer to victory, when you're facing your greatest opposition." I immediately knew that I had to face my fear of driving through the ramp 101 because of my fear of heights. I also knew that I had to try it that afternoon.

Seconds within my resolution, I asked my dad if we could go to town and practice my driving. And about four, my parents, younger brother and I went out. Our destination was nothing special, just off to the gas station. I said my prayers, but even then, I knew that I was going to be calm soon. I repeated Psalm 91, and I became reassured. So, I half-told half-asked my dad if we could drive through ramp101. I feel comfortable driving with him after all. And he was the one who comforted me years earlier when I had to face my fears. He told me he didn't mind. I was the driver, so it was up to me. My father practically just gave me an invitation to go to anywhere I wanted. But I kept my concentration. I didn't take advantage.

Twenty minutes later, we were on I-10. I drove through the ramp, confident, comfortable, and reassured. As I drove through the ramp, on what seemed to be its highest part, I was captivated by the sky. There were light pinks, soft oranges, and modest golds. And I thought... WOW. I was letting myself miss that beautiful scene because of my fear of heights. What a crazy notion! I couldn't also help noticing how the clouds were puffier and fluffier. It was truly a glorious and majestic sight!

I finally made it through the ramp. I could have exited and drove home because I was done, and I had conquered my fear, but I told my dad firmly that I was going to drive some more and go to church.

On my way, I profusedly thanked God. It was only because of Him that I was able to conquer a fear. He saw me through like He said He would. He guided my hands. He directed my thoughts. He gave me the inner calm and the presence of mind I had begged Him for. But it wasn't just that. Not only did He fulfill His promises in Psalm 91, but provided me more than I'd ever humbled myself to ask.

God made me realized how much my father and I mean to each other, a concept I've honestly been struggling for some years. God also made me realized how much I revere my mother, an idea I've been questioning--whether I wanted to revere her or not--for a while. And more importantly, God gave me a better understanding of how much He loves me, how much He understands me, and how much He knows me.

The funny thing is, I hadn't expected the faulty-engine-black-Audi to bring me to that destination... the truth I've been wanting to experience for the longest time.

God's Other People

The main reason why I love being a passenger of any car going through loop 101 is the line of trees found along the interstate. My mother and I were driving through a different main road from a wedding, when I had realized that the trees were enchanting to look at. I realized then that the crowd of trees in line throughout the interstate 101 were even more beautiful and mesmerizing to look at.

They are just like people. Old and young. Careworn and blooming. Tall and short. Thin and Fat. Some trees stood haughty and mighty, while others were fragile, frightened, and vulnerable. There are lovers with their caressing branches, parents and children caught in tender affection, and silly friends clasping hands together. And of course, there are the ones that commanded loyal servitude, that sneered at other trees' misfortunes, that fiercely stood in its place with an oppressive charm.

And I wonder. How many other passengers can see the same faces of humanity in these trees? How many other are appreciative of the simple pleasure these green-dwellers provide for us? And truly, how many of us are sincerely grateful to God for giving us the lives we have, simply being able to witness a few of God's creative works?

When we were young, we capture these trees through our imaginations. Sticks of brown and Whirlpools of green. Dots of other bright colors here and there. When we get older, we learn how trees are alive. We learn that just like us, they too, are living. But how many of us understand that they are people too?

God didn't just gave us the raw materials for some of our basic needs, but He gave both of our kind--people and trees alike--something more deeper to relate to with each other. Something that was only made possible through Him, the Creator of us all.

And so through my days of silent fascination and reverence, I had continued to learn more, from the few population of graceful trees in loop 101, of God's love, grace, and beauty.

Psalm 91

Last Monday, my mom and I went to GCC to inquire about their NET schedule and policy. She had told me to drive on the freeway so I pleaded with her that we go through the McDowell Rd. exit to loop 101. Going up on that ramp is just beyond me. I wouldn't be able to breathe. Tsk. And so, I was facing my fear of heights again. Aren't those brutal escalators in Arrowhead Mall enough?

So I drove to our destination while silently praying to God all the while that He would please pretty please guide my hands safely. Because the truth is, although I desperately would rather be just a passenger, I think being one for most of my life may have caused me some serious bout of paranoia. Or maybe it's just because I've watched too many freaky-car-accident related movies. I'm not sure. All I know is that I see crazy, stupid, reckless people driving, and who I believe are harboring some intense if-other-people-are-doing-this-while-driving-then-why-can't-I-? attitude. And it scares the living daylights out of me!

Either there's a girl madly texting, a guy smoking, a woman putting some make-up on, or a man looking anywhere but the road. What is up with that??? Don't these people realize that they could get hurt because of it? Or worse, that they could end up stealing other people's lives away from them?!

I was driving and afraid... which was not the right and best state of mind to be in when maneuvering a car. So for miles, I prayed, until we were on that bridge, where I literally had a hard time breathing. And so I prayed even more to God.

It wasn't until my mum and I were at Lee-Lee's however that I felt a little bit serene considering the fact that I was pushing our cart in the produce section rather furiously, the wheels of my mind turning. I had realized that my old friends Mr. Repression and Ms. Denial were back to haunt me. Not only that, but to remind me how much of a loser I am to allow them to oppress me, that I was nothing more but a soon-to-be-nineteen-year-old-girl who is still afraid of heights. How mortifying is that? There I was, picking up cucumbers, confronted with the ugly reality that I was afraid to face my fears. And not just any kind of fear, mind you, but every single fear I have since I was such a little kid. Well... most.

Throughout the drive back home--with my mum driving--I was really bothered. I was angry at myself, jealous of others who drove the roads with self-assurance and ease. We arrived at home, and I still thought about my two old friends whom I thought I'd successfully managed to ditch a while ago. Can't they understand that I don't want them around??? So, pathetically, I sulked.

Then around dinner, God came to the rescue! My grandma had buzzed me on YM! to inquire about my younger brother who had gotten sick during Youth Camp in California. I reported to her that although he was getting better, he was still in a bad shape, and that because of that he was isolating himself. Through my grandma, God spoke to me. She told me to read Psalm 91, to memorize it if I could. Here are my two favorite promises found in this prayer:

1. "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust" (NIV, Ps. 91.1-2).
2. "'Because he loves me,' says the Lord, 'I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation" (NIV, Ps. 91.14-16).

After reading Psalm 91, I was numb with excitement. My grandma may have meant it to ask God to heal my little brother, but I knew that it was also an answer to my burning questions as to why I was still afraid, given that I pray really hard for my driving skill to improve. And I am extremely particular when asking God to take away my fears pertaining to technical road journeys.

In no time at all, I got my answer. I realized that I haven't fully surrendered my life to God's reigns. I realized that I don't trust God completely with every fiber of my being yet. And that resistant force was impeding me from going to places. It's hindering me from moving forward, and actually dealing with my fears. By not wholeheartedly trusting God, I am making myself slave to my fears, instead of being my fears' master, as God is to me.

The beginning verses of Psalm 91 clearly states that if we are living in God, meaning that we trust Him to keep us safe, then He will protect us. The key word is trust. In the last verses of this chapter, God summarizes concisely His examples--in former verses--what He will do for us, once we surrender our lives to Him with our trust.

I can mutter desperate pleas of help to God in all the languages I know. I can beseech Him with requests for inner calm, presence of mind, self-assurance, and a round-the-clock rational head to deal with any kind of driving problems when I have to. So can you. And others that are struggling like us. But the thing is...

How can God shelter us, deliver us, protect us from harm's way, when we can't even provide Him one thing? Absolute trust in Him to do all of the above.

Heart of the Matter

I was maybe six or seven, with the bangs, and living two houses down from my maternal grandparents' house. I had a dream that, up until now, I could still vividly remember. I dreamt of my dad packing up his clothes and leaving the family. And in my dream, I was running around the house, crying my eyes out, begging the other adults in the household to stop him.

I was nine, still with the bangs, and living in a secluded peachy-coral neighborhood on the hills. It was a weekend, which meant my dad was home. And he was on his signature laid-back poses, sideways on the couch, watching the almost malfunctioning TV. I was wondering where my mum was, and I found her huddled on two opened suitcases, with her clothes neatly folded on the bed. I didn't know much, except for the fact that she was leaving for sure. And that she was crying. I asked her what's wrong, where she was going, if I could come. She pushed me so hard, that I scraped my right knee against the bedframe that was too big to fitfully hold the mattress. Hence, my loud crying. My nine-year-old mind couldn't understand why my loving, doting mother would harshly push me away. It seemed to last forever. But I hung on to her leg, and all the while she was walking around, putting her things away, like I wasn't even there at all. Until, she stopped, and I took the opportunity to run to my dad to make him stop my mum.

And a year later, I was still the girl with the bangs, and I was living in my maternal grandparents' house with my two little brothers. Both of my parents left. And my little ten-year-old self, in a white top and a dark blue minnie mouse PJ's, cried silently in loneliness, clutching my mother's favorite album of Kenny G close to my heart.

Those events happened a long time ago. But for years, after my brothers and I have been reunited with them, it was still hard for me to overcome my bitterness at having been left with no proper explanation in my grandmother's house. For years, I refused to understand that it was all for us, so my siblings and I could attend prestigious institutions, to have a better life. I became the black sheep. I became the bad granddaughter, the disappointing daughter, the evil sister, the wrong role model.

I started harboring some of the seven deadly sins. I became fluent in the language arts of cussing. I rolled my eyes at every adult in existence. I blamed everything to my parents, who were the root of all evil-Sammy, at the age of fifteen.

And here I am now. Almost turning nineteen, free of the bangs, and living in a house my parents have sacrificed for.

I knew I had a problem back then. When I finally overcame my resistance to the idea of God being there, and of Him simply waiting for my call, I immediately rushed to confide in Him my problems and the issues--trust and abandonment--I have been struggling with the most. I asked Him to heal my spirit, to mend my broken heart.

Like the little girl I was back then, I ran to Him to stop me from becoming such an angry person. I ran to Him to change me, so I could forgive the people who've hurt me the most. And to be honest, it hasn't been an easy process although I could tell that He is really working in me. Up until now, whenever I recall certain things in the past that have shaped me negatively, I lose my patience and revert back again. But with His never-ending grace and patience with me, I've been able to come back through. And I really, from the bottom of my heart, thank and praise God for everything: the answers, the push, the little reminders, His love, His compassion, His forgiveness, His grace and purity.

Yes, some wounds are hard to heal. But with God's divine power, every damaged aspect of our beings will be healed. He will restore us through His strength. And just like any recovery, we have to be patient with it, particularly recoveries such as this.

Michael Dowd's Thank God for Evolution

It is an undeniable fact that when my family and I are out--grocery shopping, dining out, shopping, watching a movie--there is a restrained excitement for my part, and an unspeakable evasiveness for my parents'. While I am hopeful that I might get a chance to buy a new book, my parents usually avoid the recreational, commercial areas where I could easily see the big street signs of either Barnes&Noble or Borders. If they find it inevitable, they have this rude habit of steering me away from the books section. My mum makes her pssst-aaaahhh. My dad summons me back to his side. And I mumble (rant, if I find a possible book) why they always take me away from my happy place. And ask them why they don't ever invest in my sanity when I mostly need it... to no avail, mind you.

A few months ago, we were at Fry's, and I immediately separated from my parents to go look at the beautifully stacked books. Even if I don't have the money to buy it, I go anyway because simply flipping through and inhaling the smell of pages makes me ascend to my own little nirvana. So anyway, I was about to find my parents when I caught a glimpse of "...God...Evolution." I stopped in my tracks. Interesting, much? It really caught my attention, and I couldn't help wondering why God and evolution were both on the same phrase. Obviously people have been talking about God and evolution in the same sentences. However, those were literally conflicting sentences that go back and forth until it doesn't make sense anymore. Those kind of sentences was much more common to me, which is why the title of the book was mind-boggling to me. I couldn't figure out whether the author was being ironic and satirical or he was being sincere and genuine.

There was only one solution. I had to buy it. But the thing is, I didn't want to mess up a mundane yet happy and blissful day with my parents, which was a possibility if my dad shook his head. So, I set the book down, turned my frown into a smile, and searched for my parents half-heartedly... not knowing that I would come across that book again in the following months.

Indeed, good things come to those who wait.

I was supposed to be studying for my ACTs this Saturday, but I spent some time today just caressing the pages of Michael Dowd's Thank God for Evolution. I got it yesterday from the same shelf where I had put back the one I took out. I don't know if this is the same book or not, but it doesn't matter. And yesterday, while I was just looking at it, I saw that its book cover was sticky and dirty with some unidentifiable marks. Normally, I would have been furious because of the damage. I consider it a crime. But I was just glad that my mum bought it for me. She didn't even argue with me. And I couldn't see a sign of restrained annoyance or something. And she isn't one of those people who've mastered the art of a poker face.

I started reading it this afternoon, and tonight I came across this: "...the more I learn about this amazing Universe, the more awesome my God becomes!" I couldn't help smiling because it's so true. I find myself easily relating to the parishioner who testified this.

I've always been a curious person, and I love learning (and anything to do with it)! Also, when I was a sixteen, I had written how I was more of a to-see-is-to-believe person. So, I had identified myself on science's side of the spectrum. But lately, thanks to Hebrews 11:1 (Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see, NIV), I'm slowly edging towards to something definitely better. I'm just really happy to see this self-transformation. And because of God's help I was able to change at all, to someone better.

And ever since my walk with God, I've come to strongly believe that everything-happens-for-a-reason-according-to-His-plan-in-His-timeline, and that everything-we-have-going-on-earth-and-in-our-lives-all-go-back-to-God-in-some-shape-or-form-or-another. Having this book in my hands is proof of it, because I'd realized while contemplating on what I had read so far that:

I've been having unanswered questions in my head lately about a lot of things, and I've been hoping (not even pray!) for answers. But tonight, I felt like I will find some of my answers in Michael Dowd's book.

God knows and understands our innermost needs and wants. And He is truly the magnificent provider. Even if you're not humble enough to ask for it, or you don't think He has the capabilities to make things work just how you like it... He will make it happen if it is what's best for you and others, in His time, of course.

"Sharing Jesus"

"God works in mysterious ways," testified one of the people (I feel bad that I forgot who it was) at our church's second evangelism seminar today. I definitely nodded my head. And others beside me concurred an Amen! And I realized then, that it was one of the easily identifiable Christian cliches that are commonly used today. It's direct and true. And if you really think about it, it's one of those simple and beautiful declarations that make you have mental montages of circumstances in your life where as Christians you thought of giving up, making up an excuse, becoming idle... and BAM--you're not. You're out there actively pursuing God.

That's what happened to me today. Last sunday, a church leader whom is very close to me, approached me with a blank sheet of paper and a pen that almost didn't work. She said, "Neng, I will sign you up for next week's evangelism seminar, OK." I was honestly taken aback, because in my head I thought that when you have the OK at the end of some kind of sentence, such as aforementioned, it was going to be in a question format. But she had an assertive tone, and she handed me the pen. I took it and started writing down my name (second person to sign up) and my mum's just in case because for some reason, I do depend on her presence to any church activities. While I was doing that, I was coming up with an excuse. Which I'm really pretty quick at, by the way. No kidding. It's shameful. I told her along the lines of what-if-my-mum-has-work? As soon as those string of words came out of my mouth, I knew I came up with a lame excuse, which I'm also really pretty bad at. The week passed by in a blur. Had an awesome Wednesday that I thank God for, that I will be thanking Him for the rest of my life. Had an even better Friday that also goes back to God. Being in a bible study setting is truly helpful and it just keeps you refreshed, like it does with me. It finished. The guests all went home. And I had a slice of pizza and an ice cream with my two younger brothers and their friends... and somewhere along the my-stomach-hurts-from-laughing-kind-of-laughter, I let out a yelped. A yelped. Like a severely wounded puppy. Followed by a thunderous, "Crap! I have to go to bed! There's a seminar at church tomorrow!!!" They laughed at me. And I ran the long flight of steep carpeted stairs. Saturday morning came, bright and light, peeking forcefully through my blinds. And I woke up.

It was about five or six in the morning maybe. And I was 100% certain that I was the first one awake. Not that I minded because I've always been a morning person. But I didn't bother getting up. The air was somehow cool. And there really wasn't any point to getting up at that moment, except probably get the day started on something. I knew my mum would come knocking at and hollering through the door when she woke up. Which she surely did about two hours later. And dread crept in through the door, slowly crawling on the carpet, reaching up to my bed covers, and finally wrapping me with fear and anxiety.

Afraid and nervous, I closed my eyes and attempted to go back to sleep. Which was incredibly ridiculous now that I think about it. Both of my parents were in the room with me. My mum using my laptop, and my dad who got in my bed too. And they were just volleying back jokes, literally LOL-ing. I didn't even sighed in resignation to the pre-ordained failed attempt. But I laughed with them. And joined in.

My parents and I had breakfast together because the rest of the pack were still asleep. And my mum and I prepared for the church seminar. And in no time at all, we were on our way to the beautiful loop 101 (sorry, I'm really obsessed with loop 101, they have some of the most breathtaking, most beautifully characteristic trees in God's creation!!!). And in retrospect, I didn't feel the antagonizing dread around me. But, I prayed in anyway as my mum was turning right at Olive--just had a Scintillating Epiphany!--St. And the next three-to-four minutes is in history.

We arrived late. But thankfully not late late. That would have been mortifying. And I had the most blessed opportunity to be sitting right next to an amazing man whose insights were brilliant and anyone could tell that his soul was actively pursuing God, and that the Holy Spirit was really in him, using him as an instrument to inspire me and engage the others into this "Sharing Jesus" seminar. The man actually had to scoot one seat to his right to offer me his seat, and he handed me a folder, which I decided that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

I open it to the page where we were at. I saw the literally bolded and italicized phrase: "Discovering My Life Mission." I read that and I felt this warm feeling gush through me. It was electrifying. First of all, I love discoveries of any kind. It keeps me going for days on end. Secondly, I love life in general, life specifically, and the little things in between that has to do with life. It's truly an amazing gift that God has bestowed on us! And thirdly, especially in the last couple of days, I started seeing myself in missions for God. And being there, right then, made me realized a simple truth: I was in the right place, at the right time. We all were. But considering my earlier attack, I was superduper ecstatic and delighted to be there where I would be learning more about God (which is another thing that I love so much). Under this beautiful heading, it says: "to discover your mission in this world, you must first understand God's overall purpose in creating human beings, and Jesus' mission in coming to earth."

That alone on the first page evoked an excitement such as I've never experienced before. It was a feeling I wanted to prolong. And learning about why God had created us sincerely wanted me to serve and dedicate my life to Him even more. Here's why:

1. We were made to have a purpose
2. We were made to be like Jesus
3. We were made to do good works
4. We were made to live for eternity

Because even before we were born, God has already decided our life's mission. He custom-made us for that purpose specifically. And it's a God's calling that we should answer to...

So what's this mission? Purpose? Calling? It is "to seek and to save what was lost" (Luke 19:10). Isn't that a beautiful honor? God is calling us to go forth, to spread His word, to bring more people back to Him, to the Light where we all belong. When I understood and accepted that particular truth, the little identity questions I have were answered. In that room, feeling the Holy Spirit inside me, and having God with us, I started making sense to myself.

God is truly magnificent, great, and whole. It made me realized how blessed and lucky I am to be a part of the soul-winning purpose for the life in eternity. It is such a beautiful honor to be one of God's chosen people to be a witness to what He has done for me, so I can in turn bring others back to Him.

Acceptance

OK. I'm sorry I haven't put up those blogposts I promised about what I had learned last week today. Or yesterday. I was busy, but not the justifiable kind of way. So, I honestly don't have an excuse.

But, here's a lil' something for today:

There's this guy whom I've known for about three years, and in these three years we have shared--getting to know each other and other stuff--we've sarcastically and hypocritically labeled our relationship under the "It's complicated" category. Sarcastically, because we're not in an actual relationship. Hypocritically, because we do not believe in that "It's complicated" label. Aren't all relationships complicated??? And he and I scoff at those other legit-slash-not-so-legit couples out there that have admitted their "It's complicated" status.

You don't need to know that. But I'm making a point.

So anyway, in the last couple of days, he and I have been completely "qi." I forgot what the technical definition really means, but it's an Eastern philosophical thought dating back to ancient Chinese. For us, it's our way of mocking each other for "being good and zen."

Today, as I've said, we've been qi. I was telling him about a new vision I had, which would eventually become a future mission all thanks to the divine power of God. He said he'd be expecting this future accomplishment in ten year's time. And I immediately stopped him on that thought process because I already knew that I wouldn't be able to. In ten year's time, I'm still in school. Either working on my master's or PhD. Why? He asked. Because I want to learn more. But since I was in my "whatever-eh-mode," I was being funny and I told him that I wanted to do the bossing... which was true, and which made sense.

So began "the authority" conversation. Everyone experiences the bossed-around-phase. I told him that I don't have a problem with it anymore because I realized that it's one of the most inevitable things in this universe. And he admitted that he still has a problem with authority. And he complimented me on being able to finally come to terms with it. So I replied: accept it.

Hence, the little testimony I shared with him. And now I'm going to share with you.

I've been raised as a Christian, but up until recently, I've only been a Christian. Just one of the many labels that I use to describe myself. I wouldn't go far as to say that I'm a true Christian because I don't believe that there could ever be one (that sounded cynical, but that was me being logical). And I don't know what that truly entails. So, ever since I became a Christian Christian, when I finally belived that Jesus Christ is my personal Lord and Savior, and that He is The only Way to God in Heaven, I saw a vast difference in who I am now and who I was then. Even better, I feel it. And through my Christian faith, everyday is honestly a fresh new start. Everyday is a fresh new wave of learning experiences that somehow all relate, or go back, to God.

In these past few months since I have accepted Jesus Christ into my heart, I found myself surrendering to the belief that He is out there, in us, working miracles. That alone surprised me because I've always been a stubborn individual person growing up. But ever since I've seen and felt God on an intimate level, there's just this release. My walk with Him isn't much compared to what others have gone through spiritually, and what they have sacrificed for Him, but my acceptance has helped me a lot. It's helped me sort things out easily and come around quickly.

Of course, I still struggle with understanding and accepting certain things as they come. And there are others, where I'm just downright stubborn to. But I have a conviction that I will come to terms with it. I know that I will be able to accept all of things He has willed to happen in His time.

If you're also struggling with accepting things in your life like I sometimes am, pray with me. Dear God, please remind me in every small thing that I do that You are my Lord and master, and that I am only Your servant. Remind me that everything You have willed to happen in my life is all for Your purpose, and that it is for my own good. I need You to take away any fiber of stubbornness, arrogance, and selfishness inside me. Change my heart and make me a humble person so I may bring more glory to You. Lord, O God, help me and stop this struggle. I want to remain in my walk with You. Please make me accept the things I have a hard time accepting. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

Refreshed!

I have really been out of touch with God lately. And that truly upsets me since I really want Him always in my life! I want His guidance all the time because I'm such an indecisive person and I easily get distracted. I want His deliverance because I easily get tempted to revert back to my old self--thoughts, actions, words, feelings--and I have no intention of becoming that old person again. Now that I have seen and felt what it's like to be in a relationship with Him, I realized that I want more of that. And if anything, it's a realization that I want to come true. And it's the one realization that I'm most certain about.

I went to our group's bible study last week again, as well as the sunday service, after many days of absence. In retrospect, it was kind of funny-slash-weird how a Jewish rabbi's message on the TV reminded me to pull myself together and get myself to church immediately. When I did, it was another BAM! experience!!! And like I was telling my old friends, "when God wants us to do something, there is no stopping it from happening."

If you're like me who has seen and felt God's work in our lives, and has lost the connection with Him, please pray with me: Heavenly Father, I'm sorry for being apart from Your Holiness. I apologize for not giving You the time You deserve to praise You for the blessings You continue and abundantly give. I didn't seek Your guidance and direction when I found myself lost and confused. Lord, O God, I need You in my life. Please come into my heart and show me the Way. Thank You. In Jesus' Name, I pray. Amen.

I will be back tomorrow to share with all of you what I had learned from the bible study meeting and the church service last week. God Bless and goodnight!

Apart

In the last couple of weeks, life has been stressful and time consuming due to school stuffs and life post HS (mostly). The past few months went by extremely fast that I couldn't remember any minor details that happened--and I'm really good at remembering all the unnecessary-slash-insignificant minor details by the way, especially the kind that make people go: "Dude!-What-the-Flip?-How-can-you-still-remember-that?"--or even the little significant things that are supposed to be remembered. I don't know. But there's just really been a lot of brain-related overload lately. In short, the preoccupation has been dead on agonizing.

Funnily enough, I was the young teenager who craved preoccupation because if I didn't have anything to do or to say or to think about... well... I honestly don't know what would become of me. I don't think I'd be here right now telling my story because my parents would send me off to some secluded mental hospital, where I'd become the second daughter they can't dare talk about.

OK... rambling. The point I'm trying to make is that I haven't been in touch with God lately because of my stressful earthly life. I finished Francis Chan's Crazy Love a couple of weeks ago. I haven't been to any bible studies in months. And I haven't attended church services in the last couple of Sundays.... which basically means I've been in a dark, miserable place in the last couple of weeks.

I was back to being impatient. I was back to being easily frustrated. I was back to being lazy. I was back to cussing. I was back to using some repetitive and negative word choice. I was back to complaining and rolling my eyes, which is really self-disappointing because I was progressing. I really was getting better at trying to control my thoughts, feelings, actions, and word choices. This all happened when I stopped communicating with Him for a day, and couldn't bring myself to really invest ten to fifteen minutes to talk to Him again the next. Like seriously. Imagine how everything I've been trying to change--because of my relationship with God-- snowballed the minute I lost the connection. It's... scary, frustrating, and depressing. Just plain negative!

And here's my lil' theory on that: We become negative so that there's room to become positive. We are hopeless so that we become hopeful once again. We get lost in the daily hustle and bustle of life so that we become found for our days in eternity. And when we are down, there's nowhere else to look and go, but up... where God is.

Back when I was a little girl, I didn't believe in God. When I became a young teenager, I questioned His existence. When I was in my mid-teens, I questioned whether I believed in Him or not. And now that I'm in my late-teens, I know deep in my heart that I believe in Him, in His Power and Grace because for His Love for us. How do I know? Because I've come to understand and accept the things that He has set in motion for us. Of course, I'm not a great master at comprehending how God works miracles. I certainly don't pretend to understand all of the things that He has done in my life either. Obviously--because realistically speaking, nobody can, no matter how hard we try to. God is simply too majestic, too grand, too profound compared to our existence (more on this in another post, I promise).

Nobody wants to be pessimistic, cynical, and plain old negative. And I know that was an absolute, but seriously? Who wants to live negatively? We need God. A cliche, but it's a simple truth that needs to resonate in our minds, hearts, and souls, 24/7. I lost the connection I have been establishing with Him in two weeks, and I become a pathetic and wretched human being again. I need Him. You need Him. He needs Him. She needs Him. They need Him. We need Him. And if you find yourself repulsed at the thought of needing someone else aside from yourself, or indignant at having been reminded that simple truth... please pray to Him. Begin by acknowledging that He is in control of your life, which means He has the power to drastically change your circumstances--for the better or for the worse--whatever it is, just like He did with mine... from a stubborn non-believer to an enthusiastic Christian believer. It's not too late, and nothing is impossible with God as your personal Lord and Savior.

Every Single Thing... Part One

... happens for a reason. By "every single thing," I literally mean it. Word for word. Letter for letter, down to the period. I've heard this phrase countless of times. I've said this phrase innumerable times. I've contemplated this phrase several times. But I haven't taken the time to pause and reflect on what it truly means for me, for you, and for the world around us. Have you?

If you have, did you reach the same conclusion as I did... that every-single-thing-happens-for-a-reason-according-to-God's-plan-and-God's-timetable-? That's right. Now, before you scoff and pssshhh this post, or raise your eyebrow and say nah-uh! or contradict me with your coincidence-and-slash-or-serendipity-theories, finish reading this first. I challenge you.

A couple of years ago, I was one of those people who easily believed in coincidence and serendipity. I thought that minor, insignificant things were a coincidence; I thought that really unexpected yet fortunate instances were awesome cases of serendipity. And if events fall neither of the two category, pop-culture taught me that it was karma. Easy as 123, ABC. Lately, however, I've come to believe that every single thing we have going on in life--here on Earth--happens for a reason because of what God has intended, in God's time. And I admit that it isn't just a beginner's belief. So what, you ask? It's become such a strong conviction, taking root inside me and overwhelming every fiber of my being, that I feel I must testify to the rest of you and share how it has changed me thus far.

I was born to a young, converted born-again Christian married couple who had lost their first-born child only eight minutes after her birth, seven months into their marriage. I know about dear Sarah Louise's eight-minute existence, but we hardly ever discuss her. I can count the number of times my mother acknowledged her birth with the use of only one hand, while I cannot recall--and I have an exemplary memory--a single memory when my dad had talked about her at all. And though my parents barely mention her name, simple inference rules that her death rocked their strong and steady faith with God, particularly my Dad's. Hence, the three-times-a-year-random-Sunday-at-church. Hence, the uncomfortable feeling I used to always have whenever it came to that Sunday, when I found myself in a church environment. I didn't know what to do, what to expect. I didn't know anyone apart from my parents and two brothers. It was hot and cramped. And the pastors my family have had were completely disengaging, church services were excruciatingly uninviting and boring. The only (and honest) entertainment I had while at church back then was Mark, the bassist, who was on the platform area for approximately 30 minutes in a two-hour-long church service. Seriously disinteresting.

However, that whole thought process about, and prejudice against, attending church services changed when my family moved to Avondale, Arizona... and started going to Valley International Christian Church (V.I.C.C.) in Peoria. And the things that I've learned through V.I.C.C. is just so BAM! It's truly beautiful and amazing. If you need a church, and want to start an/continue your intimate walk with God, visit us at 9000 W Olive Ave. Peoria, AZ 85345, Sundays @ 11AM. I 100% guarantee you that the things you will learn from Pastor Allan G's sunday messages are both enlightening, entertaining, and daily-life applicable. If you still doubt me, the more that you have to visit us and check out what being a Christian means and see what V.I.C.C. is all about. There's nothing wrong in trying. And there's definitely nothing to lose, but everything to gain.

But back to what I was saying... I just had another enlightenment a few minutes ago while I was typing the previous paragraph:

Arizona --> Sun --> Light --> God.

See what I mean? It seems like there's just an endless flow of enlightenment from God, and this statement are evident throughout my last couple of years of high school, about the same time I moved to AZ, about the same time I had been attending V.I.C.C., and about the same time I had been really wanting a positive relationship with Him.

I was fifteen, and completely MLW... probably as miserable, lost, and wretched, as someone could get at fifteen. I openly defied my parents. I purposefully ditched school until my mum suggested that I should stop, 'cause I was just wasting gas money, which I immediately agreed to. I stopped around mid-April, which meant I had a lot of extra time on my hands 'till sophomore year of HS. Cohabitation with my parents, two little brothers, and two family friends, in that cramped 610 Merrill St. apartment space was awkward, violent, and maddening in an I-wonder-who-will-kill-who-first-? kind of way. Then, I couldn't take the pretentious civility anymore because living it was even more frightening, so I worked on being positive again, hoping that my dad wouldn't kill me or kick me out of the house (literally speaking). By June, everything was going well in the Morgadez household--more jokes and less verbal outbursts. My dad and I were finally seeing eye-to-eye, and I was determined to make amends, get my act together, and sort of just ease into a I'm-going-to-fix-my-life kind of phase... which I did.

I took remedial summer classes to take care of my freshmen English and math credits. In retrospect, it would have probably taken me about two years to get this objective done if it wasn't for the sweet, kindhearted Mrs. Pingree who had passed me in her English class despite the lack of attendance, and the independent study option at Cypress Charter HS, where I took the second half of my Algebra 1 class. I passed my two remedial classes: B+ for Algebra 1, A+ for English. And with receiving those marks at remedial summer classes, I learned a valuable lesson. As long as you put your mind and heart to something, and as long as you persevere to obtain a goal, you will get there.

Naturally, I was ecstatic. Like you wouldn't believe. I had accomplished something. And that B+ and A+ pushed me even more to breeze my way through the field of education. Numbers were in plain-speak again. My summer English teacher had told me I was an excellent writer--a compliment I hadn't received since 8th grade. The feeling was just overwhelmingly positive, that it became hard to contain my excitement.

July came. My mum and I started talking about school again. I had two options: either I go to Harbor High where most of my friends from middle school are going, or to Cypress Charter, where it was small and cozy and just a block away. At the time, the latter was more of a realistic option in a no-duh! kind of way. And it was also, in the back of my mind, ideal. I had realized that I wanted to get away from a big high school setting. A change, if you will. And I've really been going back and forth with the two school options because even though CCHS was more realistic and more ideal for me, CCHS meant some serious environmental change and adaptation. The most bewildering thing, in retrospect, is how I debated for weeks between the two schools despite knowing straight off that CCHS is where I needed to be. With that settled, I told my mum about my decision. And we soon drove to CCHS, like a two-minute drive, to talk to Mr. Forester.

Uncontainable excitement. I had realized that whatever the change at CCHS, I was going to be OK about it, that I would adapt well. My mum and I were finally at the office door. My left hand was on the door handle, I was facing my mum, elated and anxious. She told me something, and my world, at that point, disintegrated into oblivion.

The Poor Widow

It's 11:11pm as I am starting this blog out. The lights in the house are all out except for my room's. And the entire family is already asleep--except for me of course, who is having a hard time falling asleep because my head is running with precious thoughts and pushing these strands of epiphanies would simply not work. It must all be said (in this case, digitally written) now. Or else, I will forget. Not because I'm a busy person. Not because I'm a busy person who wraps herself with when the next vacation is or who constantly runs errands that she just doesn't know when the next vacation is. It's because I know I will forget given the simple, beautiful fact that God is ever always at work in my life, my family and friends' lives, and other people's lives, that I easily fall behind with thanking Him, appreciating Him, worshipping Him, and praising Him since it takes awhile for me to get over His awesome and amazing factor as He works miracles and continuously shower us with His love and grace. Case in point: a few days ago, something happened, another spiritual enlightenment--but I don't even remember what--came to me, and I was just completely blown away. I was so amazed, I couldn't find the right words for it. I was so positively overwhelmed that I became completely speechless.

But you know what? I've come to realize that no matter how amazed we are by God's unconditional love and amazing grace, we have to take some dedicated time and sincere effort to express our gratitude towards God and show our Love for Him in return. It's the least we could do compared to what He has already provided for and given to us. That may have sounded negatively, but don't be discouraged! Why? Because although the personal sacrifices we have to make are the least we could do, they are among the best actions to glorify Him. And isn't that simple truth helpful to know? Isn't that simple truth amazing to believe in and live by?

With that piece of enlightenment, Lord, O God, I apologize for taking too long to testify some of the miracles You have been performing in my life recently, and also for taking too long to give account of the numerous gifts you have given me lately. I really am sorry. Despite knowing that You planned all of these beautiful things that are happening in my life right now, I made Your awesomeness and amazingness as an excuse. My speechless reaction had literally become speechless. And I know that that's not right because Your Holiness, Your Majesty deserves so much more. You gave me everything I needed--consciousness, time, sincerity, the things to be thankful for, a mind to engage people with, a voice to share You with--yet I allowed an excuse to overrule my personal will. And that disrespected You. That action made me sin against You. Dear God, I am truly sorry.

This week, I started reading Francis Chan's Crazy Love. And wow! It's definitely one of the best literature I have ever read. Its straightforwardness to explain God's love for us and His want of an intimate relationship with us is beautifully breathtaking. For someone who is a firm and radical Christian believer, the book is a great reminder of the mission Jesus entitled to his disciples. For someone who is a struggling Christian believer, such as myself, it is a beautiful well-crafted gift that enlightens and draws us to witness and experience more of God's perfect Greatness. It's physically, mentally, emotionally, and best of all, spiritually moving.

For example, the verses about the poor widow. Now, I don't know the full story of the poor widow, or if it's actually a story in the Bible, but I was reading Crazy Love and I came across this particular verses:

"As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts
into the temple treasury. He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper
coins. 'I tell you the truth,' he said, 'this poor widow has put in more than
all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she
out of her poverty put in all she had to live on'" (Luke 21:1-4).

Tears just trickled down my cheeks. It's so incredibly spot on!!! As I read the last couple of verses, I've never been more ashamed in my entire short eighteen years of existence. I grew up mostly self-conscious, avoiding any mortifying situations at all costs. But if I do find myself in an embarrassing circumstance, I'm one of those people who can either shrug it off or laugh it out. But in this case, it's hard to. Those last couple of verses were a simple truth that called out to me in a haunting voice, that stared at me with an intense ferocity. Subconsciously, I knew that no matter how I tried to shrug off or laugh out the shame, I knew both attempts would be unsuccessful. Hence, the tears. Plus, I just can't help but be moved to appreciate and contemplate the beauty behind the truth in those verses.

Growing up in a third world country and living close to what Filipinos would call "squatters' area," I was acutely aware of what poverty was like. Tin-roofs. Piles of wood haphazardly stacked together. Peeling wall treatments. Cluttered outdoors. Visible trash and waste. At the not-so-tender age of twelve, these sights evoked some apathetic "Whatever!" whenever I took the time to actually look at the things I was seeing around me. Living in America, however, made me realized how truly blessed and privileged I am to be right here, right now, where my family and I are living comfortably... to the point where we have things to literally spare. Goshhhhhh!

My family and I give out, as random acts of kindness, as sincere initiatives of concern, and even as dutiful efforts in the name of obligation. But how much of these deeds have we honestly and sincerely done in order to glorify God as the poor widow had?

The "poor widow" in these verses was not given an actual name. Why? By generalizing the character of the poor widow, it emphasizes our insignificance compared to God's Almighty name. By adding the "poor" adjective in front of the widow, it denotes the surface fragility of the widow. To say that she's not living comfortably is a gross understatement. She is impoverished, yet she still gives her "two very small copper coins" away. Not because she felt obligated, but because she wanted to offer it to God from the bottom of her heart. And how many of us can truly say we're like that? No one, right? At some point, in a moment, in a second, we've thought of giving up something for God in return for what He has given us. That thought occurs in a fraction of a time, whereas we spend minutes, even years, debating what to give up, and worse, whether or not we should give up anything at all. The second noteworthy thing about this particular woman is her "widow" characterization. We don't know when the woman lost her husband or for how long she had already lost her husband. But the fact is this: she is still willing to offer a gift for God despite losing an important part of her. How beautiful and touching is that? If it were us, in her position, we would inevitably grudge. We would become angry at God, question His will, as if we have the right to become frustrated at Him in the first place. And if we take a closer and much deeper introspection of ourselves right now, and compare it to the poor widow's based on Scripture, our personal experiences, observations, knowledge, and wisdom, can we truly say we're like the poor widow, who glorifies God selflessly at her own expense?

I know I'm not. And I want to change my selfish nature. I need to change it. But in order to become transformed into a "poor widow," I know I will need the Holy Spirit within me. I know I will need God's strength to overpower all my worldly-centered wills.

Dear God, thank you for introducing me to the poor widow, who sincerely and selflessly gave you everything she had to live on, despite her struggles, for Your glory alone. Thank you for showing me and letting me know that I can be like her with Your help. Lord, I ask that You hear this prayer and grant me the strength, the patience to be graceful to what You have willed to happen to me. Please come into my heart, open it, and transform me from within. It will take time, according to Your timeplan. But I have faith that this transformation will happen, that You will soften my heart and make me selfless, that You will overpower my worldly self-wills, that I will be like the "poor widow" in the Gospel of Luke who glorified You, in spite of her hardships. In Jesus's name, I pray, Amen.