I visited some of my friends' Friendster profiles last night. Why? Nothing. I just miss their stories.

Suddenly I had the desire to be filled in, to catch up. I've realized that the things that held us together are now gone. Classes are over. UP and Matyo's narra benches are no longer my tambayans. I am no longer a Kapamilya. We've all moved on and gone our separate ways.

But on planned occasions, those separate ways meet, twine again for another rendezvous reminiscent of the great memories we've created.

So realize that maintaining relationships entails effort. We go out of our ways. We set aside time. We depriotitize other commitments.

It is not coincidental that people stay together. We desire to, and work on it.

one summer night with highschool friends	on Mk's wedding day. The first to marry in our clique.
Kada's most recent bonding session at Starbucks and McDo.	Kada. Christmas 05.
Apr 23 06. GRADUATION.	Baklers and one hot afternoon.
Christmas dinner with CORE kids.	CORE on Rania's birthday.
pouting with Karen.	my original PR family after Krispy Kreme.

 

---

photo credits go to my life's official photographer, Dan. But then, two top photos were taken by digicams, and bottom left from Karen's posh phone. *wink

I’ve always wanted to draw intricate landscapes. But there’s just nothing better I can come up with that sticks and lines. I believe my chromosome pair for artistry got lost somewhere in the double helix of my DNA. I am really bad with maps and directions. The compass can only try so hard to befriend me. Sometimes I’d like to cry when Leboy asks me, “Is this the street we turn to?” because there’s just no single road map in my mind library. I sometimes even miss a road on my way home. I couldn’t sing. I couldn’t rest on a note. I always go flat. And like artistry, that chromosome pair that should have been from my mom have gotten strangled in the complexities of my nucleic acid.

I am limited. Because even when I have been created in His image and likeness, I am not showered with all the giftings a sole creation can embody.

I am physically weaker than males. I am bound to submit. I am subject to be more emotional.

I am limited because I am a woman. And the Lord created me to lack so I can be complemented, to have some gifts so I can complement. He did not create me to be equal with man, and I am happy not to be.

The list of the things I can and can not do can go on forever just to state a single fact.

I am limited. I can not be everything I want to be, or everything YOU want me to be.

I am weak at times so I can be strengthened. I am confused so I will be enlightened. I falter so I can be forgiven, in turn, learn to forgive. There are things I do not easily understand so I can appreciate being helped.

I am limited so I need and can bask in the grace of God.

I am limited. Isn't it great?

---

1 Corinthians 12:17-18: If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.

Work has been taking too much of my time. I go to office really early in the morning so I can finish presentations then send to client late late in the afternoon.

But I appreciate the fact that even when we (my team and I) are dog tired, we always come home with the security that all our clients' demands are met, or are tried to be met with the best of our abilities. Requirements pile up everyday, but we still get to laugh. We still get to stop for a few minutes for a loaf of bread and chocolate spread. We have clients who are so difficult to deal with, if only we can choose not to deal with them at all. But there are those clients who recognize the effort we exert, commend good work and understand that some of their needs could not be met at the exact time they want them to be met.

My work takes too much of me, but I learn that there is too much too that the Lord has planted in me that I can give out.

I see my friends so rarely. But it really warms my heart that consciously, we make time for each other. Once every month for coffee, once or twice every heartbreak for counseling, once in a quarter for dinner, every Christmas to celebrate, every big event slash raket and every time we deem our reasons to thank the Lord have just gotten too many.

I see them so rarely so each time we get together, we share fresh stories. We look differently and we just get better.

My family never approved my choice of a different faith. Mom has more than once thrown me out of the house because they just can't make me go back to my old (their) ways. But they'd always take me back late that night. They'll talk to me and try to win me back. And they can't. But still, they are family.

My condition is difficult. I cry so often and so hard that I almost always want to give up. But I won't. Because I appreciate the great work He is doing in me and in my household.

I've been counseling a lot of people lately. Sometimes I feel "nabawasan" after. I remember someone I admire telling, "You are bumped every so often, so your cup has to be filled every so often too." (Ate Zha, 2006)

I create time to be able to counsel. I go out of my way. I know it's one of the reasons the Lord endowed me with this gift. So I appreciate every single person who helps me fill my cup so I can overflow.

My life is not worry free. It is worry full, in fact. My life is not perfect, but it is great. I face so many stresses everyday but I sleep peacefully at night.

I appreciate it that even when I see numerous things in my life that I can complain about, they are always covered by the Lord's abundant love and mercy and favor.

So there's nothing else I can do but to drown with gratitude for my Maker.

---

Philippians 4:6-7
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Last night, while I waited for the final artwork of the collaterals that will be used for my event on Monday, I blog hopped -- from mine to friends', friends' to mine again. Then mine. Then mine. Then theirs. Then I realized how many red hearts are out there.

That joy of looking forward to a life together, and planning how to get there. The warmth of someone else's hand. A hanky when I cry. A constant dinner date. Someone I can bug in the middle of the night when I feel like thinking aloud. Someone who wipes my hair dry and combs it. Nice sweet surprises. To talk with about His love. To counsel with (I don't want to counsel couples alone anymore!) To travel the world with. To grow old with. To mature in Love with.

It's not something I rush. I've been busy with His work. I've been preparing for a Great task. I don't have cold nights. I don't feel dateless on parties and events. I already know what He has in store for me, and it's what I am looking forward to.

So although I miss the feeling, what I told Ate Zha is true. I don't have my own heart now. Even if on random moments, I feel tempted to take it back, I have given it back to Him the last time it was broken.

---

So I am excited for that split second He gives it back to me, because I am sure it will be filled with the love I am created to give and..

It'll never break into pieces again.=)

PS. I am sure he's so gwapo. Nyahahaha.

"If he sins against you seven times, and seven times comes back to you and says 'I repent,' forgive him."  (Luke 17:4)

It has been a while before I am able to breathe this passage, because it really is not easy. I've been cheated on. I've been left. I've been lied to. I've been hurt and I've been miserable.

So I've always believed that the heart has a limited capacity to forgive. And as JD McDonald said, "Everybody must be given another chance, and another, and another as many as the heart can endure." So I thought the heart can only endure so much.

But the Lord designed our hearts to be otherwise. It is created to give out incomparable compassion, unending sympathy, love and understanding. It is not overnight that our hearts are turned into a heart that has been molded by His hands. But it is important that we submit to this fact, that consciously, we expand our capacity to forgive. He is particular that unforgiveness is a burden to the person trespassed (Matthew 18, Hebrews 12). It is root of bitterness, and cause of trouble, and (yeah yeah yeah) a hindrance to the outpouring of God's grace.

Remember what our moms do when they saute ampalaya? They cover it with salt first to remove the bitter taste. Just like forgiveness. It is salt to the offense made to us. It does not change the fact that we've been hurt. It does not make the sin any less. It does not make the sin go unpunished, because we know we have a fair and just god. As salt removes the bitter taste of ampalaya so we can enjoy it, forgiveness takes away the bitterness and bondage to that offense so we can take pleasure in the abundant grace of God.

Last Saturday, on my way to MK's, I saw two motorcycles topple over. Last Sunday, I saw another. And just last night, I saw an FX driver's wife madly arguing with a motorcycle rider because he broke their FX's tail light.

So you see, I really don't like motorcycles. So much so, I almost hate them. Well ok, not motorcylcles. But those who irresponsibly ride them.

Why would one have his two little girls ride with him  while he swerves between trucks? It's so risky, not adding the fact that they literally inhale pollution. Why don't motorcycle riders know that their wheels should not land on pedestrian lanes? I see that every so often in the morning. They just couldn't hold their brakes. It really irritates me. And they go up sidewalks. DUH?! Don't they know BF? Hasn't he instilled that sidewalks are for people? And c'mon! Commuters are standing there! Why can't they maintain lanes? Why do they always rush? They wanna run so quick they endanger their lives and the lives of the people they pass by.

I remember each time Leboy rides his mountain bike I remind him (even if I know he knows) to always stay on the bicycle lane. But the fact is, PUV drivers could only care less about bike lanes. So everytime he rides his bike, I worry. He did want to get a motorcycle. But I am firm. I won't change my mind. Until I am alive, I will do everything in my capability, and even beyond that, to prevent the purchase. (One, he couldn't carry his equipment there. Two, I can't ask to be picked up. And three, I care so much. I couldn't bear it.=))

I don't care how pretty or cool-looking a motorcycle is. And don't tell me you are a careful driver, because when you are rushing, you'll always be tempted to swerve, to accelerate beyond reason and to be that ordinary motorcycle driver.

For me, motorcycling is french kissing accident in a country that does not cater to its motorcycler citizens.  I can't bear the thought of riding it with anyone, much so of a loved one risking his lfe each time he goes out riding THAT bike.

---

Oh, I believe Greg's a safe driver. =)