44

44 is considered double bad luck by our Asian neighbors. I turned 44 yesterday, and while many might consider the recent happenings in my life as bad luck, I choose to believe otherwise. My husband Yog suffered from an ischemic stroke nearly a month ago. He has paralysis on his right side and he cannot walk and move his right arm and hand. On our first night at the hospital, I cried out to God, not questioning His plans but asking for strength for what I know we will go through the coming days, weeks, months, even years. That uncertainty rocked my world, but in the quiet and cold hospital room, I felt God’s warm embrace and His peace filled me. Everybody was asking if I was okay, worried and concerned. It felt unreal, but I was truly okay.  

We were in the hospital for 8 days and his home medicines and physical therapy are very expensive. Still, I found many reasons to be thankful instead of spiteful — my and Yog’s families, whose support and love were translated into fervent prayers, financial assistance, food to keep us nourished, taking care of Kino, and always checking in on us to find out what we need; friends who cheered us up, offered to drive us to rehab or buy meds and supplies for us; bosses and colleagues who filled in for us; neighbors who gave us a hand when we came home; and prayer warriors who stormed the heavens and continue to pray for Yog’s healing.

The road to recovery may be painful and slow, but the important thing is, we are on that road. This experience gave me the chance to fulfill my wedding vows — for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. It gave me the opportunity to slow down and rest in God’s care. It gave me strength and courage to face difficulty. 

At 44, I feel blessed and loved. There is no bad luck for me — it’s all good. “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

Justified by His Grace

Grace · Laura Story ~ Great God Who Saves ℗ 2008 Laura Story

 

“…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus…” – Romans 3:23-24

We are all sinners. There is no exception. We are all fallen and unworthy. There is no exemption. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

If it were up to us, we will never reach the glory of God, we could not even come close. But, it is not ourselves or anyone else who justify our standing before God. It is He who does so. We are justified only by His grace. And this grace is a gift – freely given by God. He gives this gift not because of our good deeds, or kind words, or even our attendance in and giving to the church. We do not deserve, and we will never deserve this gift, but our Giver is most generous, merciful, and loving.

The gift of God’s grace did not come without a price. In fact, it came with the highest price one can ever pay – the life of God’s only Son. We were redeemed through His blood. Imagine standing in court, listening to the judge go on and on about the charges against you. With these sins, you know that life imprisonment is not enough, even the death penalty is not enough. But someone else takes all the liability – someone innocent and blameless.

And so this gift is so precious that we have to treasure it with all our heart, mind, strength and soul. We have to live our lives every day as thanksgiving for this gift.

Lord, we are not worthy, but because of Your love, we were justified and redeemed. We thank You for the gift of Your grace and we will strive to show our gratitude every day. Amen.

Know That I Am God

https://www.christianforums.com/blogs/be-still-and-know-that-i-am-god.58222/

“Be still, and know that I am God…” – Psalm 46:10

God doesn’t just ask us to be still. He asks us to know who He is in our lives. He is God – all-powerful, all-knowing, all-present.

Knowing God means acknowledging His power. It is having confidence that we can defeat the enemy because He is with us. Our enemies may be failures that make us doubt ourselves, indifference that hardens our hearts, and fear that cripples us. Today, our fears revolve around COVID-19 – not only that we or our loved ones may get the virus, but all the uncertainties and instability it brings. For many, it is as basic as food on the table. For some, the agony of closing down businesses and laying off workers. For others, the inability to pay bills or loans.

Knowing God means believing that He understands what we are going through. He feels our helplessness. He knows our dreams and desires. He understands where our choices will take us. And He intervenes, because He has plans for us, plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11).

Knowing God means recognizing His presence in our lives. That He is here, with us, behind us, and ahead of us. That He is working in us and that we are not alone in this endeavor. “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age (Matthew 28:20).”

Lord, in my stillness, remind me of who You are in my life. That You are the all-powerful, all-knowing, all-present God, my fortress and my hope. Amen.

Be Still

Photo from Jackson Street Church of Christ

“Be still, and know that I am God…” – Psalm 46:10

We live in a world of constant motion and noise. From the time we wake up, we get into the rush of the day. We are bombarded with concerns and issues of the day, loaded with problems to solve and decisions to make, our schedules filled to the brim.

Even these past weeks while we are under enhanced community quarantine, we work from home, we hold online meetings, we accomplish tasks both for work and for our family. We listen to and watch the news (or keep the TV/radio on in the background) the entire day – the visuals persistently passing through our eyes and the sounds constantly ringing in our ears.

Be still, the Lord says. In the original context, it was a call to stop fighting, to drop weapons and stop the war. But it took a lot of courage to be still amidst the war. It meant looking to the Lord for help. It meant dropping all defense and trusting that God will fight for us.

We are so used to being busy – our minds and bodies are continually at work, all day, every day – that we do not know how to be still. We actually find it unimaginable to stop moving, stop thinking, stop worrying. We think that if we stop, nothing will be accomplished.

God is asking us to be still. He is saying, “I got this. I got your back.” He is telling us to put our whole trust in Him, to drop our uncertainties at His feet and place our burdens in His hands.

Lord, teach me to be still. And in that stillness, to hear Your voice, to seek Your presence, to feel Your love. Amen.

Life Begins

I am 40 today. You know what they say — “Life begins at 40.” And this is what I am truly feeling right now. With the pandemic gripping the whole world, many say we need to reset, to go back to basics, to start from square one. Suddenly, I feel that many areas in my life are dispensable; that I have spent many hours and days and years even, on those that are not truly essential; that I have exerted much energy on things that are insignificant.

Yet, here I am — every moment of the past 39 years coming together to make me who I am now. Every second adding up to the person I have become. Each instant determining how I live my life today.

As I turn 40, armed with unwavering faith and quiet fortitude, I look forward to the future that may be full of uncertainties, but also filled with hope that in Christ’s embrace, we shall overcome. Every day brings a chance to be more kind, an opportunity to be more like Jesus, a time to be able to walk in the path that Christ paved for me. Every morning holds a promise — the same one fulfilled on that Easter dawn (after all, I was born on an Easter Sunday) — when Christ rose from the dead to live in our hearts forever.

This is what I hold in my heart today, as my life begins at 40.

13 Years

February 17, 2007. It was a small, simple, quiet wedding at the foot of Mt. Makiling. We had no wedding planner, no coordinator, no hired photographer/videographer. Prior to the big day, we had no save the date, no prenup pictorial, no food tasting, no rehearsals. We made/ordered everything by ourselves. The day before, I was still gathering data for my masters thesis and Yog was still working. The day itself, the only decor the chapel had was 110 dozens of flowers from Dangwa, which Yog himself helped arranged at 3am. It was a no-fuss event — very much like us. I could say we were, and still are, a no-fuss couple. As I write this, I just finished washing the dishes. We had dinner at home for our 13th anniversary.

We may not have much — but what we do have makes me truly proud and happy. A house we can call our own, a son who looks and acts like Yog but thinks and feels like me, a dog and a cat, a car, things we need (and sometimes want), food on the table (and in the fridge), jobs that pay enough to cover the bills, hope that tomorrow will always be better, and faith that as long as we’re together, we can conquer anything.

Our marriage is far from perfect. But we have learned to be patient, to go beyond the head over heels stage, to accept our shortcomings and love our imperfections.

On our 13th year as husband and wife, I sing…
“Through the years
I’ve never been afraid
I’ve loved the life we’ve made
And I’m so glad I’ve stayed
Right here with you
Through the years”

And I, we, will stay, through many more years, many more challenges, many more triumphs… together.

We Gave Him Kindness

After buying food from Goldilocks, I walked towards the barber shop where Yog and Kino were waiting to have their haircut. On my way, I saw a little boy, all dirty and thin. He did not ask me for money or food, he just stared at me, then at the plastic bag of goodies I was holding. I walked on. I did not know that he followed me. I saw him through the glass window of the barber shop while Kino was eating a slice of cake. He just kept looking. Kino noticed him and told me he wanted to give the boy something to eat. Okay, I said. He chose the mamon, his favorite. I asked him if he was sure that’s what he wanted to give. He said yes. So I told him to give it to the boy.

Moments later, I noticed that the boy was not eating his mamon, he was holding it… no, clutching it tightly. And he was crying quietly. I wanted to cry, too. I wondered out loud why he wouldn’t eat it, and Yog said, “Syempre ise-save na n’ya yan para bukas. Matutulog na lang s’ya ngayon kasi malapit na din gumabi.”

He fell asleep, embracing the mamon. I remember a story from The Revell Tarbell’s Teacher’s Guide to the International Sunday School Lessons (which my dad included in his book The Seven Secrets of a Happy Home):

Immediately after World War II the allied army gathered up many hungry, homeless children and placed them in large camps. There the children were abundantly fed and cared for. However, they did not sleep well. They seemed restless and afraid. Finally, a psychologist hit a solution. After the children were put to bed, they each received a slice of bread to hold. If they wanted more to eat, it was provided, but this particular slice was not to be eaten, it was just to hold. The slice of bread produced marvelous results. The child would go to sleep, subconsciously feeling he would have something to eat tomorrow. That assurance gave the child a calm, peaceful rest.

I decided to buy him more food, so he can eat the mamon now. Kino and I bought a loaf of bread, a pack of pandesal, and a carton of milk. When we came back, he was awake, and he was smelling the mamon. I gave him the plastic bag and said, “Kainin mo na ‘yan, ito ‘yung para bukas.” His eyes grew wide then he smiled. I glanced at Kino and he was tearful.

Back in the barber shop, I asked Kino why he almost cried. He said he felt happy. I asked, “Why? Because we gave the boy some bread and milk?” Kino answered, “No, Mommy, we gave him kindness.”

My Other Dad

Your stories always amuse me — from the one where the boat you were riding in capsized, to your missions in Africa and the Middle East, and everything in between. I actually looked forward to hearing them, never mind the whole family teasing me that I am the only audience you have.

Yours is a big big heart. You helped even when you’re busy or tired. You gave even when you didn’t have much. You smiled even when you were scared or doubtful.

We always teased you for being too cautious, for driving very slowly, for your Albert Einstein hair. But we highly respected you and looked up to you for wisdom and guidance.

I can only say thank you for everything — for being Kino’s cool lolo who introduced him to Oishi and “Portuguese” bread, for the beautiful images you captured that will be etched in my memory forever, for cooking the best banana cue, for getting me as a writer in your projects, for being concerned, for your passion in everything that makes even the simplest things seem of great worth.

You will forever be missed, Papa. Like the song from your favorite musical, we say “So long, farewell.”

 

 

Gentle Voice

Yesterday I learned a powerful lesson about using my voice gently. I always remind my students to use “indoor voice” or “soft voice” but yesterday I did not. And it was not a proud moment.

Kino woke up earlier and showered, dressed, and ate breakfast without a fuss. I was happy. We were 5 minutes early. In the elevator, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his ID, so I asked. He panicked and said he cannot NOT have his ID. So we went back up and we couldn’t find it in its usual place. So I started raising my voice, telling him to look in his bag, upstairs, and even in the hamper. I called him irresponsible. He stopped and just sat there, almost in tears. I asked why he wasn’t moving and he replied, “Because you are shouting at me and I am scared.” It was like a slap on my face. I hugged him and said sorry. I calmed myself then we figured out where he might have left it. I said I will text his teacher and he needs to look for it in school.

I remember the quote “Sometimes, it’s more important to be kind than to be right.” I think it is ALWAYS better to be kind than right. Yesterday I may be right, but I was unkind. And I was unfair. And cruel. And ceased being a loving mom for a few minutes. But my 7-year-old son forgave me; and so I also forgive myself, with the promise to always remember to use my gentle voice.

Moving

“Daughter at the Shore,” image from gretchenchapelle.com

It’s a Saturday. I got up ahead of everybody. And in the still and quiet of the early morning, my eyes filled with tears. Tears of sadness and uncertainty. My heart aches because we would soon be leaving. Again.

This humble home is the fourth in our nine years of marriage. I am not one to get excited about new things – especially being uprooted, plucked out of my comfort zone, and left without assurance of what the future will be like. I have always taken pride of being organized, keeping schedules, having a long-term plan. I certainly never imagined that I would live in four houses in less than a decade. I thrive on security.

But two years ago, God called me to a ministry that I would come to embrace with all my heart, my entire being. My heart was filled with passion and excitement. I hungered to learn more so I can teach more. I love my job, I love my students, I love this ministry. This love has kept me here, in spite of financial difficulty, being far from extended family, and hubby spending much precious time on the road going to and from work.

God has never failed to provide for and sustain us. But I feel we need to, we just have to, help Him. Not that He cannot do it alone, I know He can do everything. But I also believe in the saying, “Nasa Diyos ang awa, nasa tao ang gawa.” We continue working and He continues blessing us. I believe that blessings that come as a surprise are amazing, but blessings that come with hard work and perseverance are as wonderful.

Maybe it has come to the point when we have become God’s partners. Now, aside from being His children who ask Him for daily sustenance, we have also become His mates, his colleagues – we work alongside Him, or with Him in front of us, or behind us.

I do not know where God will call me next, but I know that wherever God will place me and my family is also His vineyard, a place where we can witness to many more people, where we can show everyone His love and grace.

With that assurance, I remain confident.