First Corinthians Thirteen

I am getting married.

I am 33 years old as of this writing, and I will be 34 when I tie the knot with my boyfriend next year.  I know not all of my friends read my blog, I'm not sure if they even know I have one.  But for those who do know me, this is some pretty big news.  My getting married has been the universal project of all my friends and relatives all over the world.  Everyone has been bugging me to find the right guy, get married,  and sail into the sunset.  It has always been the topic of every family reunion, every get-together dinner with old friends, every question asked by new acquaintances.  It has become the joke of the century. 

I was never bothered by the fact that I may not get married at all.  I enjoyed my singleness immensely.  For three straight years, I would wake up every Saturday morning, alone in a huge room.  I would get movies and loads of junk food and just spend the entire day in bed watching.  On Sundays, I'd wake up early and dress up for church.  I would go to church alone and then treat myself to a huge lunch of pasta and chicken, and then go shopping till my back hurts.  I would drink coffee and read a book alone in a coffee shop.  I would travel for six hours to our home in La Union alone.  I liked being by my lonesome.  It never bothered me.  The only time I would feel lonely about it is when I see mothers and daughters together; I'd miss my mom and wish she was with me.  That is the reason I am staying with her now.  Other than that, I was perfectly fine.

So that probably explains the reactions I got when Fulton and I finally announced our engagement.  Everyone I knew (who knew how long I had been single) went berserk.  They just could not believe it.  I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, honestly.  Most of our family members (my mom and Fulton's mom leading the pack) wanted for the wedding to happen as soon as possible.  They kept asking us, "What else are you waiting for?"  We would always reply: "Why should we hurry?"

What's funny though is that when we finally made the announcement, the urge to spend more time in quiet prayer has also become unbearably strong.  I have never thirsted for God's presence like I am thirsting for it now.  And that is probably another reason why I wanted to wait until next year.  All of a sudden, I felt like I wanted to be God's and God's alone.

Last Sunday, Fulton went to a Christian church with me and my mom for the first time (we have been to  the Greenbelt church last year, that was a Catholic church).  We went to CCF (Christ's Commission Fellowship), the same church I frequented on my own before.  I was curious to find out what the topic would be, it was going to be my boyfriend's first time in a Christian church, and I wanted for him to see and feel the difference right away.  I couldn't wait.

I should have seen it coming.  Just as God has always been very personal and intimate in communicating with me.  He just has a very special way of speaking into my heart and my conscience.  He has never failed to make me blush.  Ever.

The Pastor asked us to open our Bibles to 1 Corinthians 13.

In my New Living Translation bible it reads:

Love is patient and kind.

Love is not jealous, or boastful, or proud or rude.

It does not demand its own way.

It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged.

It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out.

Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

There was a couple who gave their testimony about how important it is to keep God as our constant first love, no matter how great we think our partners in life are.  No matter how madly we fall in love with our husbands and wives.  It was exactly what we needed to hear on a Sunday morning.  Exactly what we needed to hear on our second week of engagement.  

I did not exactly "wait" for the right person to come into my life.  God has always been silent about this area in my life.  But now that I have made a very important decision for my future, I can feel Him moving and working in ways that I have never experienced from Him before.  I know there will still be a lot of things that will be revealed to me and to Fulton as we go through our last year of being single.  I will stay confident in the thought that the God who took care of me in all the years that I have been alone, is the same God who will approve, design, and make possible all the plans that I have right now. 

If I should pray about one thing, it would be for me to be obedient and trusting to His will.  Whatever it may be.

The wedding is tentatively set on February 18, 2012.  We might even move it to a later date should the winter season in the U.S. not permit my relatives to fly out in time for the date.  We don't mind.  Love, after all... is patient and kind. :o)

I will write about how Fulton and I met soon.

The Psalm of David

The events that unfolded last Friday left the whole world speechless and paralyzed with fear, worry, and admit it or not, in awe of the majesty of nature's power over humankind.  My jaw literally dropped as I watched the muddy waters eat up the coastal city of Sendai, taking everything in its way, making turns here and there as if searching for more people and properties.  My idea of a tsunami has always been more like the surf waves often seen in Hawaiian movies.  All that changed when I saw CNN's coverage up close; tsunamis are nothing near a Hang Ten TV commercial, or "surfer dudes".  Judging from the speed of the murky waters literally eating up the entire city, farmlands, automobiles, even fly-overs and bridges, a strong tidal wave is something everyone should fear and take seriously.

I came home to a worried Mom that Friday night.  And our usual rowdy weekend activities were replaced with quiet dinners, only the kids were permitted to be loud and noisy.  My Twitter timeline was filled with Bible verses and words of encouragement to be hopeful and faithful that everything will turn out well.  However, there were also a lot of blow-by-blow accounts of goings-on in Japan... news that easily snuff out whatever flicker of happiness that Christian twitters post online.

Strangely, and guiltily, I had the urge to reach for my Bible.  I have to admit, it had been sitting comfortably in the topmost shelf in our living room, protected by a heavy glass shelf window, collecting dust.  Exactly how our Pastor described a backslider's Bible would look like.  I've had a lot of Bibles in the past, most of which were gifts from people who cared enough to share the Lord's promises to me.  My favorite is my pink metal Bible because it is handy and can stay in my bag without getting worn out.  It is also in my favorite New Living Translation version, no heavy reading required unlike the more popular King James Version.

I have earmarked chapters in this Bible, chapters that were discussed in Sunday services two years ago when I was still living on my own in Manila, and my weekends were spent alone in malls.  I loved going to church on my own, entering the huge hall filled with strangers with a common purpose...to worship.  

I opened my favorite chapter, Psalm 23.

The Lord is my Shepherd

I have all that I need (I love saying this over and over again)

He lets me rest in green meadows

He leads me beside peaceful streams.

He renews my strength.

He guides me along right paths,

bringing honor to His Name.

Even when I walk through the darkest valley,

I will not be afraid,

for You are close beside me.

Your rod and Your staff protect and comfort me.

You prepare a feast for me

In the presence of my enemies.

You honor me by anointing my head with oil,

My cup overflows with blessings.

Surely Your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me 

All the days of my life (I feel so special and loved when I read this line)

And I will live in the house of the Lord, forever.

I remember that Sunday's preaching to be one of the most powerful preaching I've heard in the almost 20 years that I am a Christian.  And from then on, I find myself turning to this chapter of God's promises every time I feel the world closing in on me.  

I read this Psalm now for Japan, and all the people there who are probably feeling like they are literally going through a valley of darkness.  I do not claim to understand why this had to happen to them, my mind is filled with as many questions and I too am seeking answers.  All I know is that all these have already been written, and have to, and will happen.  All I know is there is a God who loved this world so much, He made it a point to save everyone of us, even before we thought we needed salvation.  

God be with Japan.  And the rest of the world.

The things I say to myself

Read. Listen to your favorite music. Eat as much sweet food as you can. Drink gallons of water. Sit down with a child and listen to her talk, don't interrupt and don't challenge her ideas. Read. Find a good recipe and spend time in the kitchen. And before that, spend time in a real market, not the air-conditioned type where everything is either frozen or sprinkled with mist. Take a walk all by yourself. Drink red wine. Laugh till tears start rolling down your cheeks. Sleep in your oldest, most comfortable shirt. Play with your dog. Clean your kitchen. Call an old friend. Write your parents a letter, use paper and pen and send it via snail-mail. For one whole day, eat only fruits and vegetables (okay, mashed potatoes with gravy is fine.). Buy a coloring book and a set of crayons and shade away. Forgive. Smile. Nod when you agree and hold your opinion. Ask for forgiveness. Spend quiet time with God. Read the Bible. Find a dress/underwear/socks/pants that need mending and sew away. Sing. For once, don't wash your hands before eating, nobody has really died of dirty hands. Say grace before eating. Take candid photos of yourself. Let others go before you in an elevator, escalator, bus or train. Offer your seat to women, the elderly, and other-abled individuals. Smile at the security guard who checks your bag. Say sorry. Give the dog a bath. Give the cats warm milk. Open the windows and let fresh air come in. Watch your favorite movie. Cook more than you can eat and give half of it to your neighbor. Say "Thank You" more often. Say "Please" more often. When you go to an amusement park, do not skip the roller coaster. And the carousel. Bathe in the rain. Treat your mom to a salon. Close your eyes when you pray. Be fiercely loyal to your friends. Don't tell lies. Be kind. Be kinder. Give people a second chance. When someone takes you out for dinner, do not order more than what you can pay for yourself. When you receive a gift, open it in front of the giver and thank him sincerely. If the gift is something you can use or wear, use it or wear it. Pay your bills. Work hard. Work honestly.

On the 25th Anniversary of Edsa People Power

Today the Philippines (or probably just Manila) is celebrating the 25^th anniversary of the Edsa People Power.  We are commemorating the day when Filipinos regained freedom, this time from the 21-year tyranny of Ferdinand Marcos, and pegged our hopes for a better nation on Ninoy Aquino’s widow, Cory.  

The preparations lasted for days, and I must say that they did a wonderful job with the People Power monument as I saw it this morning on my way to work.  Traffic was not even as bad as I expected it to be.  I got to the office way earlier than I normally do.

Now this is one national celebration that I simply could not ignore (unlike Independence day and all these other “days” to commemorate historical milestones) as I was 9 years old then and fully aware of how the events unfolded quarter of a century ago.  I was too young to choose between the two opposing parties, all I knew then was the “V” sign was for Marcos and the “L” sign was for Cory and that if I support Cory, I should wear yellow.   But as I matured, I realized how important this milestone is to our nation.  And I am proud to have already been alive to tell and retell the story of Edsa, no matter how young or far I was from the real thing then.

All the social networking sites I maintain are filled with people’s thoughts and takes on the on-going celebration.  Most are happy, some are pessimistic.  There are even those who would say that Edsa People Power was a joke.  I really do not understand where these people are coming from, so I choose not to pay attention to what they have to say.  What strikes me with the oddest of emotions are those who, up until this time, commemorate the history of Edsa by hauling invectives in the general direction of the Marcoses.  

To these people (most of whom come from the media and show business) I ask, 

“What the hell is your point?” 

It has been 25 long years.  

There had already been four different presidents since that fateful day in 1986.  We had been given 9,125 days to live out the principles of katotohan, kalayaan, katarungan that we fought so hard for.  We have outlived the legacy of Marcos and have not allowed any of the four that followed him to even come close to telling us what we can and cannot do or say.

Is it not about time we start moving on and away from the REASONS why there had to be an Edsa People Power and start working out to effect the changes we cried out for 25 long years ago?  

Marcos is no angel.  It is alright to hate him and his memory.  On the same note, please be consistent on this hatred that you do not find yourself lining up in a mall to get a picture with Imelda Marcos or her children. 

Let us get off the Marcos’ backs and on with our lives!

I am saying this not because I am a Marcos loyalist, remember I said I was too young to make a choice then.  I am saying this as a member of that generation that supposedly “enjoyed” the fresh new start ushered in by the bloodless revolt.  

I grew up enjoying my freedom to express my thoughts as I am doing now.  I appreciate my freedom to roam the streets at night, with only my Dad’s curfew to worry about.  My parents sent me to UP without the fear of me ending up dead because I criticize too much or that I look like a drug addict with my torn jeans.  

And now that I am able to understand how I was given all these “freebies”, I recognize my responsibility to safeguard it and never let anything or anyone take it away from me.  And this, I know, I have to do conscientiously.    And by conscientiously I mean, keeping the lessons learned from the past, focusing on the things that matter, and working hard to protect the principles and values fought for in Edsa.  I know I cannot guard my piece of Edsa if I will keep turning my head back to Marcos’ busted bust.  I must look forward.  We all do.

Fighting with the Marcoses now is a futile task.  The oppressor is long dead.  We should stop pointing our fingers at them every time February 25 comes around.  And while we’re at it, I think we should stop pointing fingers at each other too.  All of us are equally responsible for the good and the not-so-good things that came after Edsa.  Remember, we asked for freedom.  No wait, we fought for our freedom!  And we won dramatically.  But after the reins have been cut, was there an account of the directions each of us headed for?  

I read from my Twitter live feed that Noynoy Aquino opened the celebration by lambasting the declaration of Martial Law in 1972.  This is just so sad.  We are supposed to be celebrating the victory of the Filipino people, I just wish he had the sincerity to do just that and not at the expense of history.   

 It is not bad to commemorate history, but at some point (and I think that point should have been February 26, 1986), we will have to treat it as it is – history.  Something that has happened, cannot be re-done, but with precious lessons that we all can learn from to create a better one for the future generations to talk about! 

We have all suffered enough.  And it is high time we start doing something about it.  We have taken the first step: we've regained our democracy.  We are, at this point, 25 years late of taking the next one:  Taking responsibility for the freedom we have been given.  

Happy birthday Edsa!   

Protesters were prevented from the Malacanang Palace by barbed wires.

Civilians guarded by loyalist soldiers in a grassy area in EDSA (this is where the EDSA Shrine now stands).  The POEA building was the only high-rise structure at that time.

Human barricades protected soldiers while they moved from Camp Aguinaldo to Camp Crame.  A rare moment in history when men in uniform relied on the power of the people for their protection.

It was also a moment remembered as PRAYER POWER.

Over our dead bodies!  Loyalist soldiers withdrew their tanks from the crowds not long after, completely ignoring Marcos' orders to trample on the people if need be.

All photos from Joe Galvez, then a staff photographer for Mr. & Mrs. magazine and the non-crony Philippine Daily Inquirer.

He is now the photo editor of GMA News Online and the president of the professional organization Press Photographers of the Philippines.

Higit pa sa unggoy... at mabahong isda.

Minsan, ni-recite ng pamangkin ko ang Panatang Makabayan, memorize nya from start to finish!  Tapos tinanong ko sya kung sino ang nagturo sa kanya nun.

Sabi nya, "Ang teacher ko po.  Sabi nya, dapat lagi naming mamahalin ang Pilipinas kahit saan kami magpunta."

Sabi ko, "Tama!  Huwag na huwag mong kakalimutan kung saan ka nanggaling at lagi mong susundin ang mga natutunan mong values ng mga Pilipino."

Very soon, pupunta na sya sa States.  Sana hindi sya matulad sa iba na dahil sa matinding impluwensya ng banyagang kultura, ay wala nang masabing mahusay tungkol sa bansang pinanggalingan nila.