some mistakes are downright funny they make us think twice whether committing mistakes is a good or bad thing. (hehe. exag ba ko?) well, i made another mistake last week and it's definitely not funny. i was attending a youth conference and it was almost over. we were just enjoying the last few minutes of lively worship when i spotted a friend and decided to ask him something. it was simple question that i asked but he couldn't seem to muster a reply... "kumuta fundraising raising for the thailand outreach?" he looked at me and nothing came out of his mouth. i repeated the question so many times over but still, he could not utter a word.
i decided to rephrase the question to make it easier to understand. besides, the music is so loud he could be having difficulty hearing me clearly... "are you going to thailand?" he nods and gives me another weird blank expression. the situation made me feel really weird because i knew that this person talks a lot. yeah, just ask him one question and he could go on and on in expounding on his answer. so i decided to walk away - from the weird and awkward "non-conversation."
minutes later i heard that he was brought to an adjacent room because his blood sugar dropped. they were looking for sugar or chocolate to help increase his sugar. he has diabetes. how could i have forgotten!? the thing was, he couldn't talk because he was already experiencing one of his attacks. i was shocked and struck guilty. darn it riz, how could you have been so insensitive?
sometimes situations happen and we don't really get 'em right? and then we're led to think that there must be something wrong with people or something wrong with us. in reality however, had we had more knowledge as to what is happening, things would have been clearer. but we are not always blessed to know. thus, we end up judging the circumstance incorrectly.
i thank God he was able to recover from the attack. at the same time, i told myself to make sure i learn from the experience. like learning to refuse to judge circumstances or people hastily. just like what happened, had i been a bit more sensitive and openminded, i could have been used to aid (or rescue) my friend who was then in need (or dying?).
so the next time a situation feels weird. don't depend on your own reasoning. consult God.
"...don't try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;
he's the one who will keep you on track.
Don't assume that you know it all.
Run to God! Run from evil!
Your body will glow with health,
your very bones will vibrate with life!"
Proverbs 3:5 ff. (The Message)
sugar anyone?
or perhaps, chocolate? ;-)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
monday warfare
i prayed for a handful of people this morning. God has just been encouraging me much lately with things beginning to fall into place - and one of those things would be renewing a commitment to pray more intently for the people whom God has placed in my prayer list.
some doors have also opened up and i have been thanking God for the fresh opportunities he has unfolded for this season. however... the morning warfare was not without a cost. it always hurt deeper when the discouraging words come from someone close to you and who holds a position of authority in your life. and yes, expect them right after the warfare. what can i say, flying arrows come with the job of a warrior.
i must be warring my way through this day. i'm just wondering though, how many drops of tears i am allowed to shed? perhaps a few. perhaps none. it really depends. if i could just run over those words without shedding a tear and with a completely strong spirit. i am a daughter of the King. what could be more powerful?
my Jesus. i realize, it will be another week of excitement and challenge. now let me just victoriously dance my way through this first battle then i'll be well on my way.
grace, strength, joy, victory come. =)
some doors have also opened up and i have been thanking God for the fresh opportunities he has unfolded for this season. however... the morning warfare was not without a cost. it always hurt deeper when the discouraging words come from someone close to you and who holds a position of authority in your life. and yes, expect them right after the warfare. what can i say, flying arrows come with the job of a warrior.
i must be warring my way through this day. i'm just wondering though, how many drops of tears i am allowed to shed? perhaps a few. perhaps none. it really depends. if i could just run over those words without shedding a tear and with a completely strong spirit. i am a daughter of the King. what could be more powerful?
my Jesus. i realize, it will be another week of excitement and challenge. now let me just victoriously dance my way through this first battle then i'll be well on my way.
grace, strength, joy, victory come. =)
Thursday, April 10, 2008
connectivity
it was something like 5 years ago already since i submitted my social-anthropology paper about online chat. two things that still resonate in my head, two irresistible characteristics on online communication - anonymity and control.
anonymity releases you from the risk of criticism. or at least they can't say bad things "in your face." you can hide your reactions and carefully craft your responses. you're "free" to project an image that is closer to your 'ideal you.' or hide behind a photo of your preferred self.
control means you can just disappear anytime. stop chatting the moment you don't feel like it anymore. quit replying to a series of email conversations. or disappear form friendster or myspace altogether so the world wouldn't find you. only, you're hoping they'd miss you, somehow.
control means you can gradually come out of your shell. hopefully, you can soon step out of it.
i get online almost everyday. (it comes with my line of work as a web content officer.) i sometimes get messages in my friendster inbox from people i don't know (especially if my primary photo is pretty ;) ). of course i don't reply. (why "of course"? well that will be for another blog entry...) some of my strongest friendships were a result of online communication (chat & email). in fact, two of them even overtook "in person" friendships due to the frequency (regularity) and depth of our conversations.
could it be that the internet is not only a place to hide but also place to disclose oneself. somehow, for those who make themselves available to listen and to share their lives, friendships are inevitably formed. the absence of pressure releases a person to take his or her time and then in taking that time, he or she is able to share what he has to share...
but for many, seeking 'connection' has become an insatiable pursuit. no amount of connections satisfy because of a deep hunger "to be known."
hear me. see me. understand me. feel me. dig me? i am deep and fathomless, will you find me pleasing? i am all this and all that, will you find my company enjoyable? there is a sense of infinite possibilities, of unlimited personalities, and, perhaps one, just one, might perfectly fit the complicated angles of your chiseled soul. there is endless pursuit for REAL connection - whatever that is.
plug me in and electrify my life. we're looking for that power plug. whose holes are a perfect fit, like a keyhole and key combination. we know we're special, but the perfect fit has to qualify that. the internet, is the world, and it has to be there somewhere...
but, i dare say that such a connection cannot be found. at least not in someone mortal. here i go (again?) =)
i've found a connection worth stepping out of my shell for.
i write songs. i write poetry. i torture my guitar when i am deeply engrossed in expressing my heart. i bang on the keyboards. (haha.) i shout. i scream. i cry, puddles. all for Him. and then He sings back. love songs unheard of. WE CONNECT. ;) it is beyond earthly description.
i see a generation wanting to *connect* the kids and adults of this age are hungry for a perfect match. a synergistic fit. a consummation. it's the closest word i can think of. consummation... ever wondered why people run to drugs and sex? consummation. but it leaves them empty. run to the net. still it leaves you empty. because you will never be UNDERSTOOD by anyone COMPLETELY except for the one who created you INTRICATELY.
He loves me through song because it is the language closest to my heart. And He speaks all languages. and He will satisfy your hunger. and He will speak a language that's dear to you. even if you don't go online. ;)
(His name is Jesus.)
anonymity releases you from the risk of criticism. or at least they can't say bad things "in your face." you can hide your reactions and carefully craft your responses. you're "free" to project an image that is closer to your 'ideal you.' or hide behind a photo of your preferred self.
control means you can just disappear anytime. stop chatting the moment you don't feel like it anymore. quit replying to a series of email conversations. or disappear form friendster or myspace altogether so the world wouldn't find you. only, you're hoping they'd miss you, somehow.
control means you can gradually come out of your shell. hopefully, you can soon step out of it.
i get online almost everyday. (it comes with my line of work as a web content officer.) i sometimes get messages in my friendster inbox from people i don't know (especially if my primary photo is pretty ;) ). of course i don't reply. (why "of course"? well that will be for another blog entry...) some of my strongest friendships were a result of online communication (chat & email). in fact, two of them even overtook "in person" friendships due to the frequency (regularity) and depth of our conversations.
could it be that the internet is not only a place to hide but also place to disclose oneself. somehow, for those who make themselves available to listen and to share their lives, friendships are inevitably formed. the absence of pressure releases a person to take his or her time and then in taking that time, he or she is able to share what he has to share...
but for many, seeking 'connection' has become an insatiable pursuit. no amount of connections satisfy because of a deep hunger "to be known."
hear me. see me. understand me. feel me. dig me? i am deep and fathomless, will you find me pleasing? i am all this and all that, will you find my company enjoyable? there is a sense of infinite possibilities, of unlimited personalities, and, perhaps one, just one, might perfectly fit the complicated angles of your chiseled soul. there is endless pursuit for REAL connection - whatever that is.
plug me in and electrify my life. we're looking for that power plug. whose holes are a perfect fit, like a keyhole and key combination. we know we're special, but the perfect fit has to qualify that. the internet, is the world, and it has to be there somewhere...
but, i dare say that such a connection cannot be found. at least not in someone mortal. here i go (again?) =)
i've found a connection worth stepping out of my shell for.
i write songs. i write poetry. i torture my guitar when i am deeply engrossed in expressing my heart. i bang on the keyboards. (haha.) i shout. i scream. i cry, puddles. all for Him. and then He sings back. love songs unheard of. WE CONNECT. ;) it is beyond earthly description.
i see a generation wanting to *connect* the kids and adults of this age are hungry for a perfect match. a synergistic fit. a consummation. it's the closest word i can think of. consummation... ever wondered why people run to drugs and sex? consummation. but it leaves them empty. run to the net. still it leaves you empty. because you will never be UNDERSTOOD by anyone COMPLETELY except for the one who created you INTRICATELY.
He loves me through song because it is the language closest to my heart. And He speaks all languages. and He will satisfy your hunger. and He will speak a language that's dear to you. even if you don't go online. ;)
(His name is Jesus.)
Saturday, April 5, 2008
blurred
We have a line up of 5 articles per month and my deadline (once again) is fast approaching. In fact, the day of the deadline is 1 hour from now. Although, I still have 24 hours to upload the last article for the month of April. (Simply put, I have to upload all the articles before the end of the day tomorrow. And tomorrow happens to be an hour from now.)
But I have one inconvenience right now and it is making this editorial work extremely stressful. I broke my eyeglasses and I couldn't see the letters on this screen clearly. My eyes suffer from astigmatism and near sightedness - strange combination - which required my lenses to have a grade of + -.
See (and I wish I could do just that...), everything is blurred. I am straining my eyes to be able to read. The article I am editing has approximately 1500 blurry words and dozens of punctuation marks in the wrong places. I have to thank God though, that the authors know how to write. Despite the imperfect composition, the sentences happily go together and make a pretty testimony.
Tomorrow though, is Sunday. And I'd rather finish this work today. For my eyes' sake, perhaps you're wondering why I'm even writing this blog. Well, I had to tell someone. Everybody's asleep already. And it's just me and my blurry eyes down here. A sad combination for a time pressed evening.
But I have one inconvenience right now and it is making this editorial work extremely stressful. I broke my eyeglasses and I couldn't see the letters on this screen clearly. My eyes suffer from astigmatism and near sightedness - strange combination - which required my lenses to have a grade of + -.
See (and I wish I could do just that...), everything is blurred. I am straining my eyes to be able to read. The article I am editing has approximately 1500 blurry words and dozens of punctuation marks in the wrong places. I have to thank God though, that the authors know how to write. Despite the imperfect composition, the sentences happily go together and make a pretty testimony.
Tomorrow though, is Sunday. And I'd rather finish this work today. For my eyes' sake, perhaps you're wondering why I'm even writing this blog. Well, I had to tell someone. Everybody's asleep already. And it's just me and my blurry eyes down here. A sad combination for a time pressed evening.
beauty
Just seconds ago, this popular Christian song started playing in my head. Out of the blue. It just played. And the music started at the point where the lyrics say, "...beauty in the broken..." Boom. I know God has been wanting me to reflect on this topic for some time now. So, now I must.
Once again, I am in a season that drives me crazy with mixed emotions. These emotions may be categorized into two kinds - bad and good. The bad emotion is frustration. This season is frustrating because it surprises me with strong doses of truths that flashes their bright searchlights on my deceived psyche that has been comfortably hiding in the dark.
To be able to survive mere confrontations with these truths, there is undeniably a need for equally potent doses of grace. For when your worst enemy slaps you on the face with the reality of your imperfection and highly inaccurate self image, you will be tempted to run away into the cave of denial. But face, you must, these mirrors. Even if it means shrinking to the size of a microscopic cell. Besides, it would be nice to hide from eyes that might have been seeing these smudges on your face all these time.
When I said, "truths," I am referring to ugly truths about myself - my irritatingly dumb mistakes, my wicked thoughts and reactions, my embarassing selfish agendas, my foolish tendencies, my indulgence to sinful compromise ... (some of you are beginning to think that I'm exaggerating), my imperfections... Most importantly, I am referring to the very things I abhor only to find them right inside of me as well.
Thus, I hate this season because it makes me hate myself to the point of wanting to run away from truths about who I REALLY am.
The second emotion is indescribable. I am not sure if I am skilled to write something that would give it justice. It is a good emotion. It is disenchantment swept away by radiant hope. It is when all disgust for ones own filth and repulsive appearance is suddenly covered with love. Not just an 'accepting' filial love, but loving eyes of fire and a heart that is fueled by desire.
Who could gaze at such a sight (as me) and have eyes captivated and enflamed with passion when there is nothing to see but ashes? This love must be faith, hope and passion combined. It's faith is real. It holds in its very hands the handles of hope. It has lenses that see past what I see in the mirror. It sees beauty in ugliness.
Like I said, the second emotion is indescribable. It is also worth it all. The remorse and the pain I feel whenever my blinders come crumbling off my eyes, when brought before this Man of Love, are turned into gold. I bring Him nothing but ashes and filth but I come out loved for bringing nothing. I am desired and wooed for being no one.
I hate the feeling of remorse and disgust whenever I see my sins exposed before me - like innards of a mammal on a puddled dusty sidewalk. But the sight of his face! Complete forgiveness. Absolute love. It is beyond me to love myself in this state. It is precisely the magnificence of who He is that made Him choose me while still in this state.
The second emotion is beyond a writer's call to write because His love is impossible to describe. One thing though, it makes the first emotion worth it all. So let me be broken. Let me see - myself. And my JC, eyes on me.
Once again, I am in a season that drives me crazy with mixed emotions. These emotions may be categorized into two kinds - bad and good. The bad emotion is frustration. This season is frustrating because it surprises me with strong doses of truths that flashes their bright searchlights on my deceived psyche that has been comfortably hiding in the dark.
To be able to survive mere confrontations with these truths, there is undeniably a need for equally potent doses of grace. For when your worst enemy slaps you on the face with the reality of your imperfection and highly inaccurate self image, you will be tempted to run away into the cave of denial. But face, you must, these mirrors. Even if it means shrinking to the size of a microscopic cell. Besides, it would be nice to hide from eyes that might have been seeing these smudges on your face all these time.
When I said, "truths," I am referring to ugly truths about myself - my irritatingly dumb mistakes, my wicked thoughts and reactions, my embarassing selfish agendas, my foolish tendencies, my indulgence to sinful compromise ... (some of you are beginning to think that I'm exaggerating), my imperfections... Most importantly, I am referring to the very things I abhor only to find them right inside of me as well.
Thus, I hate this season because it makes me hate myself to the point of wanting to run away from truths about who I REALLY am.
The second emotion is indescribable. I am not sure if I am skilled to write something that would give it justice. It is a good emotion. It is disenchantment swept away by radiant hope. It is when all disgust for ones own filth and repulsive appearance is suddenly covered with love. Not just an 'accepting' filial love, but loving eyes of fire and a heart that is fueled by desire.
Who could gaze at such a sight (as me) and have eyes captivated and enflamed with passion when there is nothing to see but ashes? This love must be faith, hope and passion combined. It's faith is real. It holds in its very hands the handles of hope. It has lenses that see past what I see in the mirror. It sees beauty in ugliness.
Like I said, the second emotion is indescribable. It is also worth it all. The remorse and the pain I feel whenever my blinders come crumbling off my eyes, when brought before this Man of Love, are turned into gold. I bring Him nothing but ashes and filth but I come out loved for bringing nothing. I am desired and wooed for being no one.
I hate the feeling of remorse and disgust whenever I see my sins exposed before me - like innards of a mammal on a puddled dusty sidewalk. But the sight of his face! Complete forgiveness. Absolute love. It is beyond me to love myself in this state. It is precisely the magnificence of who He is that made Him choose me while still in this state.
The second emotion is beyond a writer's call to write because His love is impossible to describe. One thing though, it makes the first emotion worth it all. So let me be broken. Let me see - myself. And my JC, eyes on me.
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