Showing posts from June, 2009

Fighting against God

Here's something my friend Jenny shared a few weeks ago, from her daily bible reader published by Claretian Communications Foundation. I'd been thinking about this, and I finally asked her to give me the text, word for word. It captures the reason why some of my misplaced fires died.
Today we meet Gamaliel, a Pharisee and celebrated scholar of the Mosaic Law. Citing past revolts, Gamaliel advised his fellow members of the Sanhedrin not to put Peter and the other apostles to death, simply for preaching the gospel. His logic was impeccable: if Christianity was of human origin, it would destroy itself. If, on the other hand, it came from God, they wouldn’t be able to destroy it; they might even find themselves fighting against God. Of course, he was right!
It's amazing how my faith--and what I knew of it as a child--is coming back to me and shaping me. I feel like a kid who suddenly grew up. :-)


I also recently looked up the patron saint of writers, and I found out it's St. Francis de Sales, who also has an amazing story of faith. He wrote a lovely prayer:
Lord, I am yours, and I must belong to no one but you. My soul is yours, and must live only by you. My will is yours, and must love only for you. I must love you as my first cause, since I am from you. I must love you as my end and rest, since I am for you. I must love you more than my own being, since my being subsists by you. I must love you more than myself, since I am all yours and all in you.

These are on my mind now, as I go home in Signal No. 2 storm. Good night, and I love you!

Edit: (1.08am) Not a single drop of rain. The night was eerily still. Weird. I'm home now.

Happy pictures

I realized I haven't been posting pictures in this blog anymore. I was kind of spoiled by my Multiply, which, incidentally, I'm getting to know all over again because of its new version.

But here are some catch-up photos of the pictures of recent happy days.

Despedida for Allan Popa, last June 13. Not all the guysguys made it, but we had fun.

Here's today's win, from a French learner, who took a lovely picture of her book. We're reading it at the same time! I should take a picture of mine.

Book hunting

I said I would just pass by Book Sale, scan the shelves for pre-loved books, and run off to do my errands. It was already late--I had attended the 4pm mass, the one in Filipino, which I barely understand, as my first language was Visayan, and even if I am fluent in Filipino, I often find it hard to access its written form--but I ended up staying an hour and a half anyway, coming out with I don't know how many books--including a lovely purchase that, I can say, now that I have two copies, I will give as a surprise birthday gift to a dear, dear friend.

That book was actually a delightful find. I was just scanning the children's books--I have this fantasy of preparing a nice little library for my two future kids--when I found it. My heart actually leapt, as it had only been days since I came to know of its existence. It was Sunday's gift to me for being a good girl, waking up early to tidy up the garden (because our stay-out maid Jean, who we'd been calling Jane for years, because that's how she pronounces it, is sick), filling up the water tank, watering my herbs (not exactly a garden yet, but it's wonderful that they're still alive), and feeding the dogs.

I spent 45 minutes more, sitting on the floor next to random toddlers, alternately pulling up my dress' collar (low neckline, boo!) and digging through other children's books (including newer editions of the Disney books I read as a child, which I was so tempted to buy for my niece Keona), to see if they had another copy of the book waiting for a second chance to make a reader happy. Unfortunately, there was none.

So, officially obsessed, I headed off to the real bookstore (the National one, haha), braved the last-minute back-to-school crowd, and prayed to find another copy. Just because. And I did! I found the one and only copy--a second time! Of course, being brand new, it was more expensive, like five times more expensive, but who cares? Can you say meant to be?

P.S. As usual, I bought things I don't need too--a turquoise-inked pen and a coral blue mechanical pencil. Cheap thrills!

I'm still at work

I should have left a couple of hours ago, but I'm still here, surfing the Internet, chatting on Yahoo, updating my blog, but doing nothing, really.

There are days when I feel I've built a whole lot of nothing in my life. Fortunately, the days I feel otherwise are more numerous. Unfortunately, this isn't one of those days--and it hasn't been one of those days for a couple of days now.

I've been having strange dreams that blend some sort of ecstasy with a strange level of agony.

I dreamed of going to a disgustingly crowded festival in Spain and not really getting to the festival itself, but going up on a footbridge to escape the pulsing madness, where my friends and I and nobody else encounter beautiful flocks of birds that fluttered around us, leaving gifts of balloons and books and colorful Coca-cola bottles. I want to shout to the festival crowd to look up, but I am too far above. A raven speaks to me, shows me a non-winning lottery ticket meant for some other sad and sick girl, and flies off with my red balloon to make her happy. I wave the raven a happy farewell and wish it does its job well.

I dreamed of heading for Japan, on a plane, with my grad school friend Jenny and PhilSTAR friend Jing's daughter Cen-cen. The plane had colorful bunk beds for seats. I walk the wide aisle, find the refrigerator bearing limitless foil packs of fruit juice and packs of cream and feta cheese. A passenger gets some cheese, and two flight attendants scold him because they were for flight attendants only. I smile at them conspiratorially, as if I hadn't been thinking of getting some cheese for myself, and politely ask for more fruit juice. Suddenly, the plane lurches forward, and for a minute, I convince myself that it has taken off, but when I look out the window, I realize it is driving all the way across my country, using it as one long runway.

And the view is spectacular, but it seems that I'm the only one really enjoying it: There's a pink dugong in the waters; a whale; a house carved between caves; a beautiful beach house on a tiny island with three statues of women leading the way to its door; a market made of bamboo featuring handmade furniture that made generous use of capiz and other shells; a festival; a church dedicated to St. Therese in the Muslim part of Mindanao. From Manila, the plane goes to Iloilo, then Davao, passing through many things in full color. Then it heads back to Manila to finally fly to Japan.

When it's finally flying, I remember I didn't bring money. I didn't have my ATM. But my mother was on the plane, and she had a flat in Nagoya where we could stay. I decide to be zen about it, and then suddenly, we're back home and Jenny is telling me what a nice trip we had.

REM sleep, but no rest, so I've been feeling tired.

English Trainer Chronicles: Arf!

Dogs bark in different languages too, methinks.

Learner: What means bark? Is it like the cry of a dog?
Me: Yes... (Then I bark to illustrate.)
Learner: I like it when you speak Dog. Can you do that again?
Me: I'm sorry, I'm not very fluent.


"I still miss those I loved who are no longer with me but I find I am grateful for having loved them. The gratitude has finally conquered the loss." - Rita Mae Brown