Category Archives: in house

Grateful 34 part 1

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Yes, I am 34 now. No amount of compliments that I don’t look like my age can change that. And I have to say that 34 feels a lot different from 33, or 30. Unlike the years before, that just blend into the next, 34 feels like a huge cog in the wheel resounding with a solitary click.

My birthdays used to be a big deal to me and I loved to throw parties to celebrate, but lately, I have been wanting more and more to be left alone as I see the day approaching. Maybe it’s because I dread the extra year, and for some reason I have forgotten why I celebrated my birthdays in the first place: it’s not about the years I have, but it’s the years that God has been faithful.

The more birthdays, the longer that God’s been great in my life.

And wow, how that thought just chased the blues away.

The best cure for whining is a better perspective.


So, for my 34th birthday, I’ll be listing 34 things I’m grateful for so far. Here’s part one, in no particular order:
1. I am always reminded that it is not that I ask too much of my God, but I ask too little. I always pray, “I expect great things from You, because You are great,” and He, in turn, helps me walk my talk, by showing me just how much greater He actually is as opposed to my definition of “great.”


2. Today, on my 34th birthday, I am off to a place where I haven’t been before. I’ve been wishing I could get away by myself for my birthday, and while I was willing to settle for someplace nearer and more familiar, I was given a business-class ticket to somewhere far far away, above and beyond my comfort zone. (And this also helped with me being ridiculously excited about my birthday again. hehe)

3. I have amazing parents. One of the running jokes in the family is that I get sick a lot becauseMom and Dad threw out the colostrum that I was supposed to have when I was a baby. But the thing is, from there, they have—by trial and error, with a lot of grace, patience, love and sense of humor—done a great job in raising me to be who I am today: still a work in progress, but far from a lost cause.

4. I am proud of my siblings. Would it sound obnoxious if I say that I think they are all exceptional? Well, I guess not if it’s true. If you know us, you know what I’m talking about.


5. I am 34 already and I still get great birthday gifts from my friends and family. Thanks guys!

6. A life of forward motion. I’ve always lived by this, albeit I do get stuck in ruts once in a while, but I’m grateful that God still moves me forward, whether or not I want to.


7. Growing up with pets. My mom said that my very first pet was a chicken—and that I eventually had it for dinner. After that, no more edible pets. Our house has always had a menagerie of different animals—dogs, cats, rabbits, hamsters, fish, guinea pigs, birds, an iguana (but that didn’t stay long), and a hedgehog. Loving and taking care of pets have taught me and my sibs how to be gentle, loving even the difficult to love, to forgive bites and scratches, to accept others how they are—although it was easier with animals because they are so cute—and eventually, about death, how to mourn and move on. 10665778_10152688413411210_5997660033304440003_n

8. The gift of words. I don’t know how I could’ve survived my tough depression years if I hadn’t been able to sublimate my thoughts through stories and poetry. Reading gives me the satisfaction that shopping could never supply. Few accomplishments feel as good, or come as regular (since it’s my job), as finally finishing an article for publication.

9. My friends. You guys know who you are. It’s amazing how many you are who consider me as a friend too. I know I haven’t been the best kind of friend to have, you never give up on me. You pull me out of my hermit modes, drag me into adventures, challenge me, offer and give comfort, solicited and unsolicited advice, listen patiently to my complaining, remind me of what I have forgotten, love me despite my dubious choices in life, for telling me that I am beautiful, pointing me back to God whenever I’ve lost my way. You guys are awesome.

10. The opportunity to teach writing. I always say that I write better than I talk, and I still believe that. There are many evidences and witnesses to support this. So, it’s a huge deal for me to be given the chance to teach Writing for Print for the first semester of this academic year at the St. Dominic’s College of Asia. I still don’t think I’m a good teacher, there were many things that could’ve been done better, but it’s so gratifying to see my students’ works show improvement throughout the semester.


11. Being a magazine editor. I’ve had a love-hate relationship with my career as a magazine editor (because it can get stressful), but it has given me so many things in my life—new friends, experiences, free food and swag, trips, interesting conversations with interesting people, stories and the privilege to practice my craft for a living. Thank you, People Asia, 24/7 Nocturnal Navigator, Metro Society, Metro Weddings, Lucerne Luxe, HOLA!


12. Mentors. My mom who taught me stories from the Bible and answered my questions even before I learned how to read, for teaching me about boys, men, and love by word and by example; my dad who first taught me how to swim, shoot a basketball, gave me my first roller skates, skateboard, and rollerblades, encouraged my pursuit of sports by supplying me equipment, lessons, he explained the mysterious world of professional tennis, golf and the Formula One, he’s always been my number one financier of everything I need to get ahead in life; Kuya JJ who let me play with his Transformers and Ghostbuster toys, who let me read his comicbooks on weekends with him and his high school buddies; Ate Lorna, for that year in Sunday School where, instead of the usual Bible stories, got us to study church doctrines and theology; Ilou, who showed me that notebooks can also be used to write stories, for those summer afternoons of just writing on the branches of the giant calachuchi tree in their backyard; Teacher Nina who helped me give grammar the respect and attention that it deserves, introduced new hifalutin words to our vocabulary every week, nurtured my growing love for reading, and coaxed stories out of me with some healthy dose of competition; Edgar Allan Poe (AKA Carlo Curay), who tolerated a highschool freshman who, just out of the blue, started writing poems about him and his friends and exchanged poem and poetry with me and called me Emily Dickinson (I had no idea people thought I had a crush on him, but it had never crossed my mind); Tina who opened up my creativity in new ways while in Baguio; April, who took me and my comic book geekiness to different places, most notably to Italy, hiring me as a research assistant and getting me to read the best of Philippine literature in English, and for introducing me to the best writers of our time, and she also gave me Merlin, my first official cat; Jacs took me under his wing and gave me my first real break in the magazine industry after I let him hitch a ride home with me to Cavite, this friendship has grown stronger professionally and personally, he is now one of my best friends; Rheea practically adopted me after an MRT ride after school, taught me the rudiments of making and managing a magazine on a skeleton staff, made me her firstborn’s ninang, and always welcome me into their home for a dinner and a nap; Tita Sandy, thank you for taking me in when I was in such a stressful mess and helping me make some sense out of this stage in my life.

13. My girl friends. I grew up getting along better with guys, so I took it as a sign of maturity when I started getting along with girls, and these friendships have helped me through times in my life that range from ridiculously shallow to honest-to-goodness earthshakers. They are my rock and fluffers, amazing women in their own right. Thank you for your lives, ladies, you are amazing.

14. My childhood friends. We’re scattered all over the place now: San Diego, Seattle, San Francisco, Fort, Makati, Sucat, and Imus. A few of us are moms, a couple of dads now; one of us is a famous singer/actor/host, then we have a pastor, photographer, designers, teachers, accountant, IT expert, and editor (me!). I don’t think we’ve had the whole gang together for almost 20 years now, but  these people will always be close to my heart.


15. My childhood church. Imus Unida was like the incubator for my faith. It was safe, all my friends grew up there. We all attended Sunday School together, sang in the choir, went to summer camps, starred in Christmas and Easter cantatas, attended the youth fellowship, started Xchange, served in an outreach. This church taught me to serve joyfully in the ministry, I got to witness lives given to God time and time again, I may not serve there anymore, but it will always be home.

16. My church now. WinMakati is a church that I chose to serve in, no matter what the circumstances are. I’m not entirely sure why I decided to call it home, but it felt like it. I feel my churchmates’ love and support, there is safety found in there for me. I love WinMakati, sometimes I don’t know know why I do, but every time I wonder and ask if I should still be there, the answer is always a resounding YES.





Aug 17, 2014 Joy Dare: 3 Gifts in the Morning

My friend Rheea did this last year, and she’s started with it again. I’ve been wanting to join her bandwagon, but I don’t know why I never did. But as part of getting out of the mire, I need to start being consciously grateful again. And perhaps, the Joy Dare prompts can help.

So here goes.

3 Gifts in the Morning

These days, with only a few exceptions, no matter what time I sleep the night/early morning before, I always wake up at exactly 6am. Of course, it can be a pain when I need to wake up earlier than that, but my body clock’s come in handy for all those times that I have fallen asleep without setting the alarm.

This Sunday morning, Sky came into my room to wake me up (I was already awake though) for church. She sometimes come along with me to church at WinMakati, and it feels pretty good to go to church with family again–even if it’s just a five-year-old girl who only goes with me to play with Lucas.

Despite having my own place at a convenient location in Makati (right at the heart of Makati CBD, in Legaspi Village, near Ayala Ave. and the Greenbelts, and a 15-20 minute drive away from my office), I still insist on sleeping Sunday nights in my parents’ house in Imus. There’s a lot of comfort in waking up in the house you grew up in, where you celebrated the victories and mourned the losses, and the people who live in it have seen you at your best and worst, but wisely held their tongue when things don’t need to be said. This is why I try to make the most of my weekends at home as I could. I love waking up on Monday mornings to the Cat giving me dirty looks as I get ready to leave him for the week again, but lets me hug him one more time.


I had a hard time breathing today… well, I still do. And it doesn’t have anything to do with being sick, well, not physically. But my chest felt tight all day, I had a hard time focusing on work and I was wound up so tight I was afraid other people could hear the twanging every time I moved.

And here I go again, writing another morose blog post, in Godspotted! I should have another blog for all my emo posts and just leave this blog for posts about sunshine and rainbows and happiness and dancing and singing Christian songs. This is Godspotted after all, it should be all positivity and stuff. I should be ashamed of myself. I guess this is why I haven’t written here for a long time, I just kept on waiting for something happy and light to write about. But whenever I do, I can’t sit still long enough to write about it.

But difficult times cause me to pause and check on my breathing. And that’s when I sit still long enough to write. (And it makes me feel better and more focused.)

Hence, I’m writing this now, at four in the morning.

I went to bed as soon as I got home to my parents’ in Cavite, desperate for the day to be over, but I woke up at around 1AM because I remembered I neglected something at work in my desperate bid to make it out of the day alive. But then, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I thought of writing this because I needed to remind myself why it was a better choice to stay alive than throw myself off a building last night. If I let myself, the reasons for leaving (though few) are getting themselves heard above the reasons why I should stay.

So, here goes. Here are my reasons to stay (by order of appearance)

My nieces: Sky, River, Casey and the incoming baby girl, my mom, my dad, my sisters and my brother. Actually, considering my family was enough, that’s why I ran straight home even if I still had obligations in the city until later. Then my friends—although at the height of my breakdown I couldn’t remember if I had any friends that would care if I was gone (of course I underestimate them, but forgive me, I was not in the right state of mind at that time). I wanted to ask for help, but how? I could only croak to my Bes “Help” when I called her and because she was in a crowded bus at that time she could only reply “Wuh?” before the call was dropped (thanks a bunch Globe) and that left me wondering if I just imagined the reality out there and if I’m really going crazy. And then there’s the future that there would be better days beyond this, and all I had to do was hang on until the fever to end it all was goneMy life is good despite what I’m being made to feel at this moment

I am loved.

God loves me.

For some reason, that came in last. And it was only after Tita Sandy reminded me. I wish it had made me feel immediately better, but for some reason, it’s always something I’ve known, but I didn’t really think it mattered if I died today or later.

But I chose and I’m still choosing to stay. And live for another day. Even if that day means facing the fallout of the responsibilities I neglected because I just wanted to get away from high buildings. I still wish I had just gone back to the office like I said I would. But… yeah.

But I’m alive. The storm is almost through and I made it out. A little worse for wear, but I’m still here.

There’s a lot of cleaning up to do. But for now and, hopefully, always, my Father, my God, I’ll rest in You, and breathe.


Something broke. I wish it didn’t have to take everything else with it. Tomorrow I have to face the fallout of my choice to save myself.


I know that when You 
don’t calm the stormy weather
You hold me close
Until it blows over.



The Ride of Your Life

I’ve been contemplating about the subject of truth and love all week. How, as followers of Christ, we can live in the tension between the two of them. If you haven’t felt the tension, or haven’t really thought about it, think of the last time you had to forgive a friend or a loved one over something BIG. There’s always that struggle in us to forgive because while we want to love and make our relationship right with that person again, we don’t want to dismiss or forget what had happened. TRUTH points out what’s wrong in us, in situations we find ourselves in, the sin that we’re hiding. LOVE is grace, forgiveness, redemption, acceptance. When we’re teaching or giving advice to others, all we want to teach is the TRUTH, not because we don’t think love is important. but because there’s already too much of it. But when it’s our turn to face it, all we want is LOVE, because we already know what we’ve done wrong.

In the Max Lucado devotional Bible (a quote I found in the Owl City blog), he wrote a preface to 2 John that addresses this subject matter, and I don’t think I can add much to what he said (but I did anyway. hehe. but here’s the quote):

The single most difficult pursuit is truth and love.

That sentence is grammatically correct. I know every English teacher wanted to pluralize it to read: The most difficult pursuits are those of truth and love but that’s not what I meant to say.

True, love is a difficult pursuit. Correct, truth is a tough one, too.

But put them together, pursue truth and love at the same time, and hang on, baby, you’re in for the ride of your life.

But that’s the task of the Christian. Love in truth. Truth in love. Never one at the expense of the other. Never the embrace of love without the torch of truth. Never the heat of truth without the warmth of love.

Never would be easier if we could choose between the two, but we can’t. So John, in this second letter, calls for a hybrid.

“I love all of you in the truth, and all those who know the truth love you. We love you because of the truth that lives in us and will be with us forever. Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ, will be with us in truth and love.” (2 John 2-3)

Truth and love. Love and truth. Never one without the other. To pursue both is our singular task.

Truth and love in the flesh is messy. It’s Jesus telling the adulterous woman whom he had just saved from stoning, “Neither do I condemn you, now go and sin no more.” No condemnation, but an acknowledgement that there is sin that had to be forgiven. Jesus lived in the tension between truth and love the whole time he was on earth and he hung out with the sinners and tax collectors– he loved them and he forgave them and accepted them. Jesus is the embodiment of truth and love. That’s why He died on the cross! God wants to save us, but there is sin that needed to be paid in full.
So, how do we live in this tension? We don’t want to dole out just truth because truth without love drives people away. They leave feeling rejected and even more condemned. If we’re all about just love– sin will just be overlooked and there would be tolerance but no change for the good will happen.
One day at a time, I’m trying to live this in my life by never giving up on people, even the difficult ones. To speak the truth in love (it’s hard!) or just thinking before I speak; avoiding quick judgments or arguments for argument’s sake; giving second and third to the nth chances; holding back “I told you so;” easing it up on tough love; and giving up my right to be right whenever I am and I have to.
I’m not always successful– the big sister in me always wants to fix things and boss people around. But if we need want to reach out to the people who don’t have a relationship with Jesus Christ yet– the seeking, the lost and those who don’t want to be found, the self-confessed sinners, the bad boys, the bad girls, gay people, the broken, the modern day “tax collectors”–we have to be willing to give ourselves to this tension between truth and love.
We need to learn how Jesus loves by going out there in the world and doing it.
This was a repost from the Daily Pandesal at 

too many endings

Said goodbye to too many friends, one after the other this year (and we’re only in the first quarter). Parents of friends
have gone as well. I never thought this season will come so soon. My parents go to wakes and funerals all the time, because they are older now.

Death happens with age.

But my friends are all still too young, they don’t even have kids of their own, no retirement plans– let alone memorial plans. They’ve just started. They didn’t battle sickness for so long that it was finally time for them to go. They just stopped, lingered for a beat or two in a coma, before leaving without saying good bye.

My bestfriend texted me, out of the blue, saying that she has been praying for death for a few years now, she can’t wait to see her Creator.

Well, what do I have to say to that?

Thank God He seldom answers better-off-dead prayers?

Death comes for everyone in time anyway.

This morning, I was
afraid to die. I wept in my bed as I tried riding out this feeling in my body–pain, lethargy, weakness, helplessness. I thought of my friends who died too soon, and wondered if it was my turn to go as well.

I wonder if it’s a sin to not want to go home to heaven just yet–to still desire momentary things over an eternity of being with the God who I profess to love?

(I’m sorry, Lord. I still want to fall in love with a man who loves me back, get married, have kids and raise them to love You. I still want a house with cats and dogs and a goldfish pond. I still want to publish my own magazine, maybe even a book. I still want to take care of my parents in their old age. I still want to sing, to dance, to write and proclaim your name.)

I don’t know. Maybe “afraid to die” is not accurate– I just don’t want to die. I’m not scared. Ready or not, it will happen. Someday.

But not yet, Lord. Please. Not yet.

Love, Merlin



In case you still haven’t heard, Merlin (my beloved Cat) had to go through an emergency surgery procedure on his urinary bladder because it was clogged with stones and it nearly burst. Once again, in the 11 and a half years of having him as my cat, I was overwhelmed by just how much I love him. He’s just a cat, for crying out loud! But the thought of losing him, the thought of him being pain still makes me cry, because yes, I love him that much.


The verse, “When I consider the your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:3-4) always gets to me because it shows just how small and insignificant we are compared to the big picture of the universe, and yet, God cares for us!


God uses Merlin time and again to illustrate this point to me. From his first hospital stay (in 2008), I spent over a month’s retainer fee for his bills, and now it looks like I’ll be spending my 13th month pay on him again, and yet it doesn’t bother me. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t even spend this much money on myself, and yet I would– and have–willing plunk down so much just for a cat!


A cat whose most constructive contribution to the household was to catch an occasional mouse. Most of the time he ignores me– he even runs away when I try to hug him. He eats my mom’s plastic plants, he demands for hand out every meal, and I he scratches me all the time. Well, ok, he’s learned a new skill– he now gives massages, but still. He’s split my lip twice already! Yet, whenever he does come to me willingly, sits beside me whenever I get home for the weekend, or when I’m sick or sad–for whatever reason a cat has for giving acts of affection– my heart just overflows with joy.


I love Merlin because he is mine. And no matter what he does, or will do, I will still love him. Of course, this doesn’t mean I don’t discipline him whenever he does something bad– one of the first words he ever learned was “no!” The other one was “down!” Guess what he was trying to do at that time.


And right there, is a Stef scale model of God’s love for me, not that what I feel for Merlin will ever be equal to God’s love, but it’s a tangible hint of what it is. I don’t really need a cat, but I chose to have a cat– with all his quirks and independence and even indifference. I love Merlin because he is mine– and it’s not because of the things he does or stands for. I feed him, I take care of him, I pay for his hospital bills, clean up his litter box and the mess that he makes, discipline and dote on him.


“What is man that you are mindful of him?” Whenever I think of how often I use His name in vain, how I lie, sin, cheat– why does God even bother with me? When I see humanity–all the things that we do and say just to prove that there is no God, or that God is there but He doesn’t care… to go through great lengths to show that we don’t need Him. I just wonder how silly and foolish we look to Him, or how we break His heart every time we push Him away. His great love caused Him to create this universe, to send His only Son to suffer and die for our sins, to give our short existence in this universe a purpose.


He didn’t have to, but He still did.


Funny, we’re just starting on series called The Love Story at church, and I really like what Manu said about God’s love: it’s inclusive, irrational and immovable. It’s difficult to comprehend because while I’m glad that God loves me, it’s hard to believe that God loved Hitler too. But that’s how His love is– it doesn’t really matter who we are, what matters is who He is– He is love!


Once in a while, God uses Merlin to give me a clue of how much He loves me–I just have to raise how I feel about my cat to the zillionth power and then some. And if I think how overwhelming, surprising, and joyful it already is to love my cat right now–God’s love is just ineffably awesome! And I have no credit for it– it’s all Him. It’s because of who He is, and not because of how awesome we are. :P


And with that, can I ask for a prayer request?


Please keep on praying for Merlin? :)


(v.2 of an old blogpost)


Forsaking morbid introspection and fruitless heart excavation trips. Instead, recognizing and receiving R.A. Torrey’s encouragement that ‘if there’s anything that always comes up when you get nearest to God, that is the the thing to deal with.’ What a relief and a good mindset even in working with helping people through their stuff. 

Oh, we are a bottomless pit of brokenness and woundings. But God in His mercy does not drop on us the full extent of all our issues because He knows we are but dust. He knows the best time and way to deal with whatever ails our walk with Him and He will decide when each one needs to be dealt with. Alleluia! ” 
- Germaine Santos, Facebook status

When I read this post, it was an early Thursday morning– too early to even get inside our office–a few minutes away from finding out about a contemporary’s suicide the night before. Just a couple of days before that morning, I witnessed a terrible display of the inner struggle of one of my nearest and dearest. And I wonder, what was God doing when these things where happening, did He even see these events as they unfolded?
More importantly, did He care?
I can’t remember from which verse I had read in the Bible about how God feels the pain of our suffering. Each one of us? Yes, I guess so. It don’t recall it mentioning any exceptions. In my feeble mind, I can imagine it the noise of a single cry of agony sustained in an ending breath. It’s so unrelenting that my mind’s ears just give in to the noise until it fades to a numbing and steady buzz. But oh, to God, the Creator of this big universe, is powerful enough to know each one of us who cries by name and mourns as He keeps His hand on eternity.
Sometimes I really can’t understand why He lets these things happen, but it is all for His glory–which is our ultimate good. He didn’t even spare His own Son from pain because He had a great plan that had spanned from the time of creation to Jesus’s last breath on the cross– and even beyond.
Reading it now, it sounds like I’m just trying to convince myself that God cares. To be truly honest, sometimes I do wonder if I’m just Godspotting out of wishful thinking or it’s just my Christian upbringing kicking in. But faith in God is as much of a choice sometimes, as it is a gift from God himself too. He knows that without His help and His desire for us to to have it, we would be stuck in the past and the present with dread for the future by the overwhelming nature of reality.
It may not make sense at the moment, like most things that are still unfolding, but someday, I know it will be clearer. There may be weeping and mourning now, but dancing comes in the morning.
So here, but by God’s mercy, we move forward.

God of small hours

For some reason, Mondays have been especially hard to face these past few weeks. And today is no exception. I slept at around 5am (it was a little bit light out already when I turned in) so when I woke up at 8am, my body’s buzzing with lack of rest and I spent another in bed just staring at nothing until the buzzing died down.
On the way to work, I randomly chose this song to walk to and start my day with, Rob Thomas’ “These Small Hours” (the song from Meet the Robinsons)
Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain
I don’t know about you guys, but whenever I need to get through something stressful and difficult, I always remind myself of the bigger picture– that God has a great plan, a very good and very valid reason for troubles in this life, that this sort of moments are just a blip in eternity. 

But then, I am reminded how God– in all his awesome glory, the same God who holds the universe at the palm of His hand– is also the God of the minutiae– of tiny details. I often praise Him for being the God of small things, because even with the big picture in mind, I know that He is still present in the small hours, the little wonders that we encounter throughout the day. And that by itself, makes each moment count for me. 

Proverbs 16:9 says, “In their hearts humans plan their course,

but the Lord establishes their steps.”


  1. Set up (an organization, system, or set of rules) on a firm or permanent basis.
  2. Initiate or bring about (contact or communication).

“Establishes their steps.” Can you imagine God laying out the foundations for each step we take to get to whatever destination we go to? Even the steps we don’t think about or do on purpose, those steps we have forgotten even as we make them. 

As David wrote in Psalms 139, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me!” 

This day may not be the best of days, but God was there each step of the way, and even then, He had already set up all the details that took us through this Monday– be it a happy one for you, or a boring one for some, or an excruciatingly busy and difficult one like I just had. 

between two sides

Ever since Obama announced his support for gay marriages in the United States, there have been a lot of comments and posts from people who either support it or who are against it (but then again, this issue has been hot for a long time anyway). Prominent people who are vocally against it are soundly blasted by the gay community (and by people who care about them). I must admit both sides’ statements bother me, well, mainly because I’m a Christian and when I read Christians saying hurtful things online (or hear it live for that matter), it hurts because it’s not what Jesus is all about. While sometimes I do think the same things, I’m not inclined to say them because such thoughts require further inspection against God’s Word (and good old-fashioned discretion), and I can expect the resulting backlash. And, it incites so much hate and anger from the people at the receiving end of the hurtful comment (because what do we expect? It’s not like we can get away saying such things), and there’s already too much hate in this world.

It got me thinking– what’s my stand on the gay marriage issue? I choose not to have one. I think I’ll just stay here, right in the middle. I don’t really know where I should stand in this issue, what I do know is that I don’t want to be defined by what I’m against for, nor be known for judging people (who does?). Love requires me not to hurt other people, to know their stories first before I get to have a say in their situation (if I have to in the first place). Jesus approached people differently, He didn’t have the same approach for every person he encountered in His ministry. Come to think of it, he was rather tough on the church people in those days…

While I’m still trying to figure out this whole, “What does love require of me?” thing, I’m not going to encourage more anger and hate– especially online, where it’s just so easy to get people going with a single post. I’d rather encourage and give grace and healing, light and love where there is hurt and ignorance and hate. I can’t say that I’m wise/wiser or I’m better than everybody else. Gosh, I’ve made more than a lifetime’s worth of stupid statements and stupid mistakes. By myself, I’m no better than anybody in this world.

All I know is, if Jesus were here today, he’d be hanging out with those we Christians call the “lost” and the sinners. And he would love them, they would feel loved, even if they are so different from each other. They would feel Jesus’ acceptance even as He would show them the way, the truth and the life. Jesus would certainly not be hanging out with the likes of us church people (who would probably wondering, “If he’s the Son of God as he says he is, how come he missed out on the weekly fellowship?!”).

If I want to be where Jesus is, I should be right smack in the middle, where all the action is, being the embodiment of truth and love. I would want to be His disciple, learning, observing (most likely baffled by his closeness with people who don’t have anything in common with Him but accepts Him just the same) and trying to do things just like how He did them.

I’m sorry if I’m rambling, I’m still trying to figure things out (help me?).

My friends (and I do have a lot of gay and lesbian friends– one of my closest friends is gay), if you’ve ever been hurt by a Christian, or by any of our statements or rash judgements, I apologize for us. Most of us (all) are still trying to learn our way through Jesus’s command to love one another just as He loves us (John 13:34-35), and learning is kinda messy.

Someday, maybe, there will be a time for me to take a side on an issue, but I don’t think that this is the time. Not at the cost of misrepresenting Jesus Christ to people whom He loves as much as He loves me.



Hide and Seek

I haven’t been feeling well since Saturday, I did more than keep calm and carry on– I moaned and complained, even as a I carried on (even posted about this on Facebook!). I focused on all the aches and pains in my throat, my back, my head, my limbs. I thought about how I hated to breathe through my mouth because the snot in my nose couldn’t seem to ever run out– no matter how much I blow and the sticky yellowish things out into a tissue paper.

I know I should pray–I’ve asked people to pray for me, but for some reason, I didn’t. Not until this morning. 

I know I have just been coasting along with God. I have treated Him much like my friends these days, I know He’s just there, on call. But for some reason, I never called or texted. I just know He’s there, but I chose to languish in my sickness alone. When I wasn’t sick, I worked and worked and worked. Sure, I mentioned Him all the time, listened to songs and talks about Him, but to actually be with Him? Not really.

This morning, I decided to call Him. Acknowledge that I miss Him. Apologize for not calling until now. It sucks to treat my Creator– my Lord, God and King– my Father this way, but for some reason, He let me.

Of course, there are days when He drives us into a corner until it was either face a wall or Him. Sometimes His presence is just so palpable that we’re reduced to tears even before we even knew it. Sometimes He’s Pillar of Fire. Sometimes He’s a landslide. Sometimes He’s a still small voice.

And sometimes He lets us come to Him in our own time.

I don’t know why He does this, but I find it amazing that in the midst of everything that screams out His name, He chooses to be silent and lets Himself be found, when we feel like it. Patiently waiting, never asking what took us so long?

Oh, how He loves us so.