Reflections + Raindrops

An entry I wrote on August 14, 2011 (2:39AM)

The monsoon season is far from over. Since I am forever infatuated with summer, this season is not something I look forward to. Fortunately for us, God speaks through his creation. He whispers spiritual insights into just about anything. Rain showers and thunderstorms are not exceptions. They remind me of the day when I was spiritually low, solitary in an empty library, and watching the rain pour endlessly. “The Hind’s Feet on High Places”  was a faithful companion that day and my imaginative goggles were on.
I sat there silently listening, the droplets were quietly crashing to the ground. I pitied them. From the time they were conceived until they reach their maturity, they were destined to die. I imagined the stench of death everywhere as they fall helplessly, inching closer and closer to their grave. I imagined how each droplet dread the day they were called todrop everything and plunge toward the earth. It must have been painful. The distance between the atmosphere and the earth could have been magnified a million times. They were falling, dying. Their journey was a long one.
On the other side, a tiny seed was thrusted into the earth. Abandoned. Choked by the dirt all around it as darkness closes in. With no light and no companion, it dies a miserable death.Both are unaware of their destinies. Two seeming deaths gave birth to life: a rainbow hoisted as a triumphant banner across the clear sky and a seedling sprouting out of the moist ground it considered its grave.
Despite the fact that their sacrifice produced life, I think it is a hopeless kind. They were completely unaware of the future. They did not know about the amazing things that happened after they lose themselves completely.
In John 12:20-35, Jesus predicted his death while Hebrews 12:22 talks of the joy that was before him which motivated him to endure his cross. Its hard to imagine how death and joy could be in the same sentence. But that’s the Christian life. And as Christians, like the rain and the seed, we are called, predestined to do the same.
If only he was referring to death in the literal sense, things could be a lot easier, however, deaths come in various forms and sizes. Death could mean asking for forgiveness from someone you wronged whether unintentionally or not. It could mean restoring your broken relationship with your parents. It could be letting go of your rights and putting other’s needs first. It could mean going after a dream or running away from it. But for most of us, it simply means surrendering our will, our thoughts, our feelings, our entire self, moment-by-moment to the Lordship of Christ.
Whatever it might look like for you, be certain that Christ was and is and will be on the same path, walking with you, and urging you to remember the life that is promised you. Surely, we would realize that we never truly lived until we have died a thousand little daily deaths, with Him and for Him.


DQS: De Quervain's Syndrome

De Quervain's Syndrome is commonly referred to as Gamer's Thumb or New Mommy wrist. I'm no gamer nor am I a new mom but I was recently diagnosed with this thing. A bummer, I know. It is kinda, sorta related to Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Who knows, they might even be cousins. Basically, I've lost any sensation on my left thumb and the right side of my left forefinger. I can move my fingers, yes, but my left wrist is perpetually in pain. Intense pain. I'm still waiting until my wrist+thumb support grows on me.

My left hand grew weaker too. I'm unable to grip well, let alone hold something heavier than an empty glass. I'm glad I'm right-handed which means I can still write with a pen with ease, one thing I rarely thanked God for in the past.

I'm still trying to figure out what to take from this experience. I'm pretty sure there are some lessons here that would benefit you and me. For one, I think, two is often better than one. Like having a pair of ears and feet, two hands get the job done twice as fast and twice as effective. Our hands share the task of typing, washing the dishes, wringing a wet towel, carrying an infant, and clapping, on a daily basis.

Meds and the humble wrist support are the temporary solutions at the moment. I wish they'd help me heal fast. If not, steroid shots and a surgery are possibilities I dread in the near future.

It's true that this became an overnight insecurity of mine. I'm worried about a lot of stuff I have no control over. Oh, my stupid vice and I adding damage to this literal injury.

Although I'm unable to do many things like playing the guitar, learning to play a new instrument (as you know, instrument playing requires both hands), longboarding, carrying my cute nephews, using the left hand as a substitute for when my right hand gets tired and lotsa other things, I am thankful for the chance to slow things down. I feel like an infant relying on my other limb and the kindness of the people around me to get by. I'm humbled by my handicap. It reminds me that I'm in constant need of grace and that the God I serve is ever ready to dispense the grace I badly need. God is good.

Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 

2 Corinthians 12:8-10

New International Version (NIV)


Jab Tak Hai Jaan

Teri aankhon ki namkeen mastiyaan
(The mischievousness in your eyes,)

Teri hansi ki beparwah gustaakhiyaan
(The negligent cheekiness in your laughter,)

Teri zulfon ki lehraati angdaaiyaan
(The flowing stretches of your hair,)

Nahin Bhoolunga main,
(I will never forget,)

Jab tak hai jaan, Jab tak hai jaan
(As long as I am alive, As long as I am alive.)

Tera haath se haath chodna
(Your hands leaving from mine,)

Tera saayon ka rukh modna
(Your shadow separating/turning away from mine,)

Tera palat ke phir na dekhna
(You leaving me without another glance,)

Nahin maaf karunga main
(I will never forgive,)

Jab tak hai jaan, jab tak hai jaan
(As long as I am alive, As long as I am alive

from  http://omgsrk.com/english-translation-of-jab-tak-hai-jaan-poetry/


Manalig ka.

Asahan mo, mula ngayon pag-ibig ko'y sa'yo.


The Wilderness of Loneliness

 Smack dab in the wilderness of Loneliness

Lately, I have been pretty much lonely. I often thought of past lovers and almost-lovers and how things could have turned out differently if I did this, and that. I stalked these oblivious men. I tracked their statuses and photos to see their ladies. Pathetic, I know. Still, I would continue on and bask in self-pity. My brain would burst in inquiries of the things I did wrong and those which I did not do. I would relive the past in my head, trying to comprehend and to remember.

A life of celibacy and single hood scared me. As a matter of fact, it continues to haunt me. I could not, for the life of me, embrace this sort of life. It is frightening.

Reeking of desperation and low self-esteem, I looked to others for validation. I wanted to be wanted. I needed to be needed. I loved to be loved. What a fool I had been! Someone wants me, loves me, and is serious enough to have a hankering for a relationship with me. Unbelievable!

He, too, endured the long road of loneliness. He suffered a great deal. It was truly painful and he did it to please his Daddy. He is a superhuman, a love machine, the most beautiful thing the world has ever seen. And he wants me, my entirety. Oh love is never blind... it sees.



"If your heart takes more pleasure in reading novels, or watching TV, or going to the movies, or talking to friends, rather than just sitting alone with God and embracing Him, sharing His cares and His burdens, weeping and rejoicing with Him, then how are you going to handle forever and ever in His presence? You’d be bored to tears in heaven, if you’re not ecstatic about God now!"

— Keith Green



Unlike this blog, I'm never abandoned, never forgotten.

Inked in the palm of my Maker's Hand, my name exhibits grace.