caution: work in progress (an open letter to an old friend)

dear Melissa,

I don’t know if you still remember me, but we used to be classmates in fifth grade. I was the new kid in class and I didn’t know who to talk to. I stuck out like a sore thumb in my pink shirt and jeans outfit. My oversize glasses seemed like a good idea back then. Looking at my pictures now, it wasn’t. Your smile was the first direct acknowledgment of my presence in that strange classroom. You motioned me to the empty seat beside you and introduced yourself to me.

It didn’t take too long for me to know why the seat beside you was vacant. The other girls in class– at least the more outspoken ones, the pretty girls with their neat ponytails, and the teacher’s favorites– loudly demanded why I chose to sit with you. I saw why. In first few weeks of school, they taunted you, they made you yell, throw things in anger, and make a fool out of yourself while they laughed. They said you were sick, that’s why they tried their best to make you angry. It was funny when you got angry.

I remember standing up for you– for a while. I couldn’t understand why they would treat you like this. You were my only friend in class. The girls gave me hell for it. Soon, they started calling me names and hating me. That was a new experience for me. I had always gotten along with everybody before, and just stayed out of people’s way if I think they could hurt me. It was weird because this was my first time to be in a Christian school too. This was how Christian kids behaved in a Christian school?

I don’t know how it eventually happened, but the same girls who used to yell how much they hate me in front of the class became my friends. I even got invited to a sleepover with them.

Then I started noticing just how different you were from us, how much bigger you were than the rest of us. I noticed the funny way you talked and walked. I laughed when the boys made you cry. I didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. I moved two seats up front, with the popular girls and never looked back.

You moved to another school the next year. I didn’t see you anymore, but sometimes I remember you and I wonder how you are now. Did you make friends in your new school? Did they treat you better than we ever did? Did you get better? Did you lose weight? Did you move out of the country, or maybe you’re working in the same city I live in now? Do we shop in the same mall? Did you fall in love with a man who loves you back? Are you happy now?

I tried looking for you online, but I haven’t found you yet. I guess you wouldn’t like it if I brought this all up if ever I do find you. I wouldn’t want anybody else to bring it up for me. We weren’t nice to you at all. I wish I had stuck up for you, but it’s too late to take any of that back now.

I guess I just want to say I’m sorry. We didn’t know any better, and I’m glad that I’m not like that now. I’m sure we’ve both gone a long way since then. For that I’m really grateful.

Anyway, thanks for being nice to the new kid. God bless you, wherever you are today.

TRUTH THURSDAY #32: Back to Identity

“People only see what they are prepared to see.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

What do you see when you look down the road? What does the future hold? What do you think see? What do you want to see? You who are at the brink of everything, teetering over something great and unknown.

For this edition of Truth Thursday, let’s take a look at

TODAY’S VISIONS FOR MY LIFE

Remember, you don’t have to directly answer the question, you could just be “inspired” by it. but better if you do directly address the prompt/question. remember the mechanics:

1. Every Thursday, i will post a question or a prompt on this blog and participants will write something that answers the question or was inspired by it. (or post pictures or artworks!)
2. Participants who wrote something for that Thursday must leave a link on the comment box of that day’s prompt to let people know that they have posted.
3. TRUTH THURSDAY must be on the Title of your entry, followed by the question (so people will know).
4. This does not have to be emo– although these things tend to be a bit on the emo side, but TRUTH THURSDAYS are meant to be a fun way to bond through blog, and to get people writing and posting something meaningful and real. (disclaimer: this isn’t to say that you’re not doing so already!)
5. No pressure. Just be inspired and post something!
6. Be TRUTHFUL!

as i lay me down to sleep…

Whenever I catch a glimpse of the past in the light of the present, I cannot help but be grateful for how far You have taken me. Yes, there were some kicking and screaming episodes– even during those times when I should know better already. I’m glad you didn’t let me run away and let me learn that sometimes it’s braver to just stay.

And You’re here, with me. And I feel that awesome security of having You near.

I love you. You never let me go.

dare you to move

“I don’t want to go and see things that will make me change,” I heard one lady say in a video at the International Care Ministries dinner this evening. I think she speaks for most of us today.

As images of poverty and sickness flashed in half dozen projector screens in the Rizal ballroom of Makati Shangri-la, the irony was not lost to the audience, who were dressed to the nines, eating an expensive dinner. But, as Marietta Santos, the grand lady who had invited us there, said, “I brought you here so you would be aware of what’s happening, and to get you to help.”

photo by Jorem/Sheila Catilo for Moms for Moms

“I don’t like seeing these kinds of things,” I heard the lady mutter from across the table from me. I watched her as she just kept her eyes on the table while the rest of her friends murmured and gasped at how most of our fellow Filipinos live.

Even my stomach couldn’t help feel queasy at the site of the squalor people actually live in.

photo by Espen Rasmussen / Panos for MSF

I get overwhelmed whenever I see images like these. There are just so many people in need! How can I– or anyone– help them? Even with all the organizations, volunteers, donations, there doesn’t seem to be an end to the poverty. There will always be people who are sick, hungry, poor, with hands outstretched for help, any help they could get.

I work in a magazine that features luxury, high society, exclusivity and high-end goodies that only a few can afford. Most of the time, I find myself surrounded by these few people, with their shoes that I can afford if I don’t eat for a month, and bags that cost a year’s salary of a managing editor. It’s part of the job. At the other end of the spectrum, but still my job, I see the ugly, the poor and the broken in society. And I meet people who are helping, and looking for more people to help, other people.

I often make this half-meant joke, “Lord, can you give me enough money to give away?” But so far, still not much money is left to give away after the bills. I’m thinking that maybe God wants me to help in some other way.

Because why else would He make me see these things?

from my_sarisari_store.typepad.com

“What does God think about poverty and injustice?” I remember that question raised by a speaker in Station One last year. With so much in the world that is going wrong, God must want to make it right! But how? What is the church doing about it?

I believe that truth does not become really true to us unless it affects the way we live. Truth moves people– often out of our comfort zones and into a place that is smelly, ugly, and in need. So we see these people in need and we feel pity for them. But that’s not enough. That’s not true enough. We have to move. We have to do something.

But what can I do? I don’t have anything, I don’t have much money to give, I’m so busy with work and other things that  barely have enough to sleep as is…

Then God asks, “What’s that in your hand?”

——

p.s. I’m compiling a list of charities for people to donate to this Christmas. If you have a recommendation, just leave a comment below, preferrably with contact details, or even just a website. Thanks!

when all you got is a feeling

It’s nearly midnight here, as I am writing this. I have no reason to stay up late, no article due tomorrow, and I’ve just finished my last conversation for the night.

But I can’t sleep. My mind is buzzing with thoughts that I can’t even articulate just yet. All I have is this queer feeling that I have to write something, anything, before going to sleep.

It feels good.

I still remember those days when I would just cry and beg for that old restless feeling that’s just demanding for a bed of words to settle on. I miss that urgent need to write something– anything– down before going to sleep. And now the feeling’s back, and I welcome it like a friend who was gone for a long time because of some weird fight we have already forgotten.

But I don’t know what to write about. So I’m just going to start writing about this, my feeling. Because I need to write. I have to keep on writing. It all goes back to this (often ridiculous) belief that this is what I’m called to do, even if all evidences tell me otherwise sometimes.

During those times, I ask God if I’m really supposed to be a “writer” because I feel like such a fraud most of the time I’m doing this– especially whenever I get confused with my tenses. But then again, what else can I do?  Maybe I should go back to school again, or at least learn a new vocation just in case. I’m looking at dressmaking, if I can’t be a veterinarian. I mean, I love to cook, but I’m not so sure if other people would like what I cook. Maybe I can be a teacher… but then what would I teach? Writing?! HAH!

These days, I get the same feeling when I’m praying. I know I have to pray, I have this weird tugging in my heart and I just know. I know I can pray. But once I start praying, my mind starts wandering, and before I know it, I’m not praying anymore and I’m just rehearsing an imaginary conversation I have with a friend I wish I could say these things to, but can’t. And the conversation sounds like nothing what you’d hear in real life. Somewhere down the line I remember what I was doing before my eloquent speech and get back to praying. Seriously, it’s like a tug-of-war up in my head sometimes.

My rambling concentration makes me wonder if I was really supposed to pray and keep on praying after all. I mean, God already knows what I’m talking about, right? He knows what I need! So why do I have to close my eyes and stop whatever it is I’m doing and pray to somebody who I know already knows what I need, and most likely has something else better to do with His time.

But prayer is important– it’s like the need to talk to the boyfriend, the best friend, even to my mom and dad. It’s to connect with God. It’s so comforting to know that Someone is listening to me, even as I’m figuring it out by myself. God’s the best listener in the universe, seriously. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t argue, doesn’t walk out on me. He just lets me talk and let me work things out while I pray, and whenever He tells me something, it’s found in the Bible– which makes it hard to argue with because it was written thousands of years ago and whether I want it or not, it is still relevant today.

One of the passages I hold on to whenever I don’t know what to pray about and for, or even as I am at a loss for words to write is Romans 8:26-27:

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.

Ok, I got my words out. I can sleep now.

But I’m going to pray first.

one year of holding your hand (a belated anniversary post)

i’ve already told you most of what i have to say about us, but i’d like to add this one:

(you were right, love, when you said that what we have is a miracle.)

image found through doosie

but it hurts!

God’s Chisel by the Skit Guys

“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
Ephesians 2:10

“Do whatever it takes to make me what you want,” is a very dangerous prayer, but it’s something that I need and want to live this life to its fullest and for His glory.

Stef is God’s original masterpiece.

So chisel away, Lord.