Believe in you

These past few days I have been quite emotional and rather nostalgic. As I read Path to Wholeness, there was a passage that emphasized the role teachers play in the lives of students and how they can make or break a child. I had also been hearing a resounding message in the readings about believing in the God of the impossible. I remember my encouraging teachers and trying to see what they saw in me.

 

I came from a violent home because my father was an alcoholic. My mother was a public figure and we had to protect our family’s reputation. So, we didn’t speak about the home in public nor did we discuss the violence that happened there. One didn’t simply wash dirty linen in public. We had to portray a picture of a normal family.

 

Aside from my faith, I took refuge in schoolwork. Because I got good grades, I received affirmation from peers and teachers alike. But I remember particular teachers that made me feel like I was someone and that I mattered. The first teacher I remember was a nun in my elementary school in Chicago, I was a new student and I couldn’t speak English very well. So, I had to sit with her for a couple of weeks. As she taught me, she said, “I’m sure you know this” and from those words, I felt confident and I began to understand. When she met with my parents, she only had praises for me and the belief that I could be integrated into my normal grade with no problems. I had some stumbling blocks but, in the end, English was my favourite subject and I excelled in Spelling too. I even won the school Spelling bee and received my first Walkman. Throughout my stay in the school, I was a consistent honour roll student. This was because one teacher showed me that I could do it. What a difference one teacher can make.

 

The next “teacher” I had was the school registrar of my high school in Abu Dhabi. She was my bandurria teacher in fact and not an actual teacher in my school albeit being the school registrar at the same time. She took all my adolescent angst and received them with love. She would invite me to tea parties after bandurria practice and we had amazing conversations although she always said that I could talk in front of a mirror. What she didn’t know was that I couldn’t speak so freely with anyone else. I was a bit shy with others but with her I could talk about any topic under the sun. She also told me that smiling suited me. That was the start of the transformation of my becoming a smiley person. I looked at myself in the mirror and indeed I looked grim when I didn’t smile and that I didn’t look half bad smiling. So I did. Her belief in me as a good person and not the angsty teenager I portrayed opened my heart to receive love from other people. She made me feel that I could be loved. So, I believed that I was loveable.

 

Another instrumental teacher was my Economics (Social Studies) teacher who believed that I should join an essay writing contest. I didn’t even know I could write. He saw something I didn’t see, and he made me believe that I could write. He made me write about being a migrant and my experience as a migrant child. The theme of the essay was “The Filipino in me”. It was the first essay contest I ever joined, and I won third place in my category. I couldn’t believe it when I received the letter, some money and I got a trophy too. So, that was a turning point in my life. I had initially wanted to be a doctor but instead I took to the letters and finished a course in journalism in University with honours. Had these teachers not taken time to appreciate and show me that I was not who I thought I was – someone who couldn’t do anything nor excel at anything, I would have stayed an angry person filled with regret or hatred.

 

So as I read the readings of how people believed in Jesus, I remembered these teachers who had faith in their students’ capabilities. I am not comparing myself with Jesus of course. I am emphasizing the fact that He is the God of the impossible. For all the things I thought were impossible to me, He used these teachers to show me that I can believe in myself, that with their help, I can overcome my own disbelief in me.

And so I wanted to say thank you to these wonderful people who took time to plant a seed of hope in a student who had so much doubt and lacked self-confidence. If it weren’t for them, I would not be who I am today.

 

So I thank all the teachers out there (special mention to my best friends Jam Hernandez Doyle and Janis Yu) who make and made a difference in their students’ lives by seeing their hidden gifts and bringing it to life, by being loving to the hurting students who may be suffering from their personal lives and for the hope that they bring to every student and letting them believe in themselves because all it takes is one person to believe.

 

Of course, I also thank God because He put these people in my life. He knew what I needed and He believed in me first. I thank God for believing in all of us that we are worthy of His dying on the Cross because we are special to Him. I hope as you read my little reflection, you too will stop in your disbelief and believe in yourself – that you are worthy and you are special and that you matter because God believes in you.

 

Tuesdays with God

About two years ago, I started a date time with God and called it "Tuesdays with P.A." in imitation of Tuesdays with Morrie. It was a weekly ritual of writing down God's message to me for the week. It was a consecrated time when I would sit down and write and share with other people, through my writing, my pondering about God.

I had neglected that ritual for some time now.

But I wanted to share what has happened to me recently.

It was on a Tuesday that God gave me a car in a lottery at the office. I had never won anything so big in my entire life. I was so surprised that I was shaking for a few hours and I went to mass to give thanks to God that day. I couldn't stop crying. Good thing the mass was a remembrance mass for the dearly departed. My tears of joy was masked as tears of sorrow and remembrance. That was 19 November.

Winning the car was a funny story. The lady that called me to say I had won it was a classmate in French class. I thought she was calling to ask about our homework that day because she had been busy organizing and participating in our office's bazaar. This was the conversation:

A: Hello, this is A, may I please speak with Ms. E.
Me: Hi A, this is P, your classmate in French.
A: Who am I speaking to?
Me: A, it's me, P, the Philippine, your classmate in French.
A: The little Philippine in class?
Me: Yes, that one.
A: Oh my God, P, you won the car!
Me: What? Oh my God! Oh my God!
A: (Talking ... but I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying)
Me: Oh my God ... (walking out of my office and going to my friend's office saying: I won the car. Smiling and shaking)

It was also funny that at the closing of the bazaar, I took a picture of the whiteboard with all the winning numbers. I thought I would check the numbers when I go home. Little did I know that I would win the grand prize.

I didn't tell anybody else that I had won the car that night until I found the ticket. I told my family though and I said I had to check where my ticket was. They asked if it was a hoax. When I found it at home and went to mass that Tuesday, news had already travelled and everybody greeted me with a congratulations as I entered church. The lady that sold me the winning ticket had already told everybody. When she sold me the ticket she had expressly said, "Take this ... this is my favourite number". I bought it and that was the winning ticket.

Two weeks later, on a Tuesday, 3 December, I finally received the car. The German ambassador, whose Mission had donated the car, had come to the VW garage for a photo op. The car - a VW eco up! - was unveiled and Voidieu (short for Voiture de Dieu - in English - Car of God) was given to me. We call her V for short, thanks to a friend's prodding.

So, it was on a Tuesday that I dedicated myself to God and on the same day, God gave me a wonderful gift.

I had planned to write this on a Tuesday but I had been busy so time permitting, I wrote it on the Sabbath which is also a day dedicated to God.

It's not to say that God is not present any other day but I just feel even more special that God on our date day gave me such a wonderful gift.

Thank you Lord for the gifts you shower me with everyday of my life. I am not worthy yet your love abounds for me.

I love you too.

Madali ka ma-disappoint (You're easily disappointed)

That's what my friend told me today when I was venting about how another friend's prospective job might not pull through. I took offence for a while, kept to myself, pondered about what she said. I felt a bit slighted but my friend and I have been through a lot so I chose to act “normal”. This is what Bo Sanchez recommended when there has been a misunderstanding and you just want things to be as normal as possible. Act normal and feel later and sooner or later your feelings will follow your actions.

I was simply venting and I just wanted to be heard. I didn't really expect a chastisement or scolding as such. But she did have a point. After she said that line, she added: Trust in God and you will not be disappointed. Know that He has better plans.

Yes, I know that in my head and in my heart. It was just in that moment in time, I doubted. I doubted like Peter. I doubted like Thomas. When has God ever let me or my loved ones down? I don't recall any real let-down. The answer has always been clear: Yes, No, Not now. Sometimes, I choose to see between the lines. Well, so much for looking between the lines. What is in between is the fact that God is so good, He or She (International Women's Day is soon here :)), knows what we already need before opening our mouths and He or She will give it if it is what is best for us. Nothing less and sometimes surprisingly more.

As I reflected today with the help of OPM (Original Pilipino Music) and the concentration to work like my life depended on it got me smiling. I became very happy and my feelings of hurt turned into love. Love for my friend whom I know said that because she wanted me to be appeased that God will never let me down. Love for the people that dare to show love. Love for the people that appreciate the little things I do. Love, love, love. The love of God that is all around to feel and to share.

So, my not so disappointed self started smiling – at everything. I might have looked a bit crazy to some people. But I appreciated as I always do the little things – a smile, a plant, two friends talking, people helping and showing random acts of kindness. I smiled at the collection of photos of the people at work in our organization. I smiled as I walked home. I smiled at the air that was going through my body.

Thank you Lord for giving me my friend who reminded me that I should never be disappointed with you or what life has laid down before me. You have better plans – plans for a future full of hope. The verse of Jeremiah 29:11 is forever etched into my heart.

I leave it at the foot of the Cross. We will soon be welcoming you into Jerusalem with palms only to crucify you a few days later.

Look not on our sins but on the faith of your Church – that's what we say at Sunday mass. Yes, Lord, look not at our inability to fathom your plans and the errors we make. Look at our faithfulness and the hope that we put in You because only You know the plans for our lives.

This Lent, may we never be disappointed by the experiences and challenges that come our way. May we welcome them as a sign of your unfailing love and your trust in us.

Jesus I trust in You.

***

Super shield

"Sometimes before you reveal yourself you need to put on a shield ... "

This was something I heard from a movie I recently watched.

There was a time when I did not think I needed a shield because I possessed all the power and strength. Youth does that to you. You feel invincible like you own the world. Yes, a part of me still believes that but I've been hurt too much to know that sometimes I need to protect myself.

And I do the same for my loved ones.

You see, we were blessed with a very loving mother and she trusts too easily. We have somehow inherited that and because we are only half of her, I am proud to say that we were also gifted with Papa's genes - very wise and a good measurer of people.

But going back to the shield ... Nowadays I maintain a relatively medium height wall for people to climb over. It is a test. One it proves that a person is willing to climb over my wall which means I am worth the effort. This weeds out the faint of heart. Second, the wall is scaleable so that I am not unreachable. So, the winner is the one who at least tries. I give points for effort.

There were instances when my wall was very high and it seemed that the view from the top was very lonely. My mother said, sometimes when people can't come to you, you have to meet them at their level. I have learned that. Like my own medium-height wall, I am willing to scale someone's mighty shield if I think they are worth the effort, especially if I can see that behind the facade is a person bearing great weight and shaking with fear. Until today, I hold that same fear and weight. Although it is a bit lighter.

And once that wall is scaled, there is no turning back. One cannot unsee.

So what was the wall for? What was the shield for? What was so important that it had to be shielded from the public eye?

For some people, they are secrets. Others, disbelief in themselves. For many it is fear - fear of being hurt, fear of being found out that they are not what everybody thinks they are, fear from criticism. The list goes on.

And because once our walls were only knee high, our vulnerabilities were so obvious it was used to hurt us - deliberately or unintentionally. It made us feel insecure, it made us feel less strong, we felt at the mercy of others. Or it could just be irrational fear.

For one reason or another, we felt that we needed to protect ourselves. And so the wall grew and grew so that people could not read us or could not easily use our weaknesses against ourselves.

Then came some people who thought it would be fun to overcome the challenge of the wall. So they climbed. Others lost hope, others would not give up. Carefully, the victors would wear down the walls gently by moving every brick back and forth until it loosened from the cement and was broken away clean. These are the people that respect you and care enough to tug at you when you are ready. They are patient, they understand you and they are willing to wait for the wall to come down.

Then there are those who try to climb the wall by tearing down the foundation. These are people who don't care about you but likes the thrill of the chase. At any cost, they will bring down the wall so they start hacking at you without any qualms. It is these people that makes the walls go higher and higher.

Our shields need not be static walls. They can be drawbridges that shut and close at the face of danger. Generally it is open but once threat is felt it shuts to offer more protection to the innermost you.

The story in the movie I watched ends on a twist: Sometimes, you don't need a shield because being yourself is enough to protect you.

We are given senses by God to know when danger approaches. We feel something is wrong when a suspicious character talks to us. We are on guard when certain people seem to say sweet nothings yet our hearts feel otherwise. Yes, sometimes, it is enough to be us because God equips us with the armor and shields that we need. He says to call on the Holy Spirit in times of trouble and He will push through.

This has happened to me so many times. I have uncanny feelings when I am about to enter into a dangerous situation. Before, I risked entering danger to test the waters. Now, I listen to God's prodding or interpret the signs that God is showing me to know whether what I am about to do is justified or not.

Shields are important because they help protect the innermost you and me. Though sometimes, maintaining a wall is tiresome. Some people will always criticize. Yet there are gems of people that we might be missing out on. And for them and for God's other creations, it is worth the effort to get to know someone even if it means getting hurt. "A" for effort they say.

I'd like to end with a line from "Wicked". Glinda says:

(Glinda) I've heard it saidThat people come into our lives for a reasonBringing something we must learnAnd we are ledTo those who help us most to growIf we let themAnd we help them in returnWell, I don't know if I believe that's trueBut I know I'm who I am todayBecause I knew you

Like a comet pulled from orbitAs it passes a sunLike a stream that meets a boulderHalfway through the woodWho can say if I've been changed for the better?But because I knew youI have been changed for good

Because I knew you God - I have been changed for the better, for the good. Thank you ...  May you always be my shield in times of trouble and may you always be with my loved ones.

How awful it would be if we would have to scale a wall to know you Lord. Thank you for being open to us.

Thank you for never tiring from tugging at me brick by brick so I can be who you want me to be - warts and all. 

Psst ...

It's almost 3 a.m. and I was on my way to sleep when suddenly, I got called. I started my night prayers and I prayed that I would get to sleep. After a few minutes, I still couldn't fall asleep. My body was surely ready for sleep but my mind wasn't. Then like Samuel I said "Speak, Lord, I'm listening." I kept listening. I even asked: Do you really want me to write, right now? So I tried sleeping again and too many thoughts were raising through my mind.

So, I am taking to my virtual pen and paper and writing my thoughts.

Some of my pondering went to something that happened earlier. Someone had asked me, how did I know God was calling me to serve. If you'd asked me when I was younger, I would say, I just felt it. If you asked me now, I would say, I heeded the call.

I think we are called in one way or another to do something for His glory. Sometimes, the call gets drowned in the world and most of the time, in our own thoughts. We mistake His voice for ours and dismiss it. But maybe that's why along with our thoughts, we feel stirrings, a certain tug at our hearts. Like somehow, we are being pulled to do something. An internal compass if you'd like.

That's how I know I'm being called. Like right now, I was on my way to sleep when I felt this urge to write. Why would I want to write at 3 in the morning? I would rather sleep. But I felt that I had to write, write down the thoughts that were whirring in my head.

So, I am.

Earlier today, someone said that a way to be closer to God is to be in His presence. What that means to you or me may be different. But it definitely struck me. My life is as busy as most people. It becomes difficult to hear God's voice. God exists everywhere and He communicates to us through any medium - be it nature, a friend, a talk or even a stranger. Heeding the call is another thing.

In that busy-ness we are almost always physically exhausted, yet something seems to be still missing. Do we undertake more responsibilities? Ask God, what is it?

Speak, Lord, I am listening.

I had been off work for a week. I had tendonitis in my right arm. It was the worst thing that could happen to me because I was right-handed and I liked working with my hand.

Then I said: Thank you, God. Thank you for letting this happen so I can be with you. It's not everyday that you get to have a full day with God. It was like a God holiday or what my brother aptly coined: Staycation. It was like a vacation because you had to stay.

My injury also left me very vulnerable. Like most people when they are sick, you imagine the worst. And you feel pity for yourself. It was a test of mortality. We are only here for as long as our body holds up. For a 32-year-old, it is scary. But even then, at least I made it to 32.

I couldn't do most of the things that I could if my hand could function. I couldn't even type. Writing this is even a challenge in itself. Yet, for as long as I can do it, I will. A day may come when I will not be able to write and shame on me for not capitalizing on my ability to do so now.

I still feel quite fragile. Earlier today, I had stomach cramps. It seemed to be emanating from my navel. It scared me a little. But I hope it was just a part of the many nerves affected by my tendonitis.

I am no longer a spring chicken. That I know.

And I don't know if God is telling me to take better care of my body or to do what I can now while I can rather than to wait later when time may not be on my side.

So, it's 3 a.m. and I think my ramblings should come to an end.

Yes, Lord, I heard you ... I hope you call again.