Nasimula sa Pakikiusyoso Hanggang sa naging Adik

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Ang Pag-ibig

Pag-ibig… Marahil gasgas na ang salitang ito para sa iyo. Mapa-dyaryo, radio , telebisyon o kahit sa mga tabi-tabi at dian sa kanto ay napag-uusapan ito. Maraming kinilig, nainis, nasaktan, napatalon sa tuwa at napatulong luha ang simpleng salitang ito. Kasi naman, hindi ba sasayaw ang puso mo kung sabihan ka ng mga katagang “Mahal kita”?

Pero paano nga ba masusubok ang tunay na pag-ibig? Ito ay masusubok sa sakripisyong handa mong gawin at daanan para lamang sa iyong minamahal. Ang mga magulang ay kadalasang isinasantabi ang sariling pangangailangan at kaginhawaan para lamang maibigay sa kanilang anak ang magandang kinabukasan. Ang isang binata'y napapahiwalay sa kanyang barkada para sa sinusuyong dalaga.

Kapag may isang tao ang dumaan sa mahirap na sitwasyon o gumawa ng isang sakripisyo para sa iyo, mararamdaman mong minamahal ka ng taong iyon, hindi ba? Ngunit kadalasan nating nakakalimutan ang pinakadakilang pag-ibig na naranasan ng sanlibutan: “Ngunit ipinadama ng Diyos ang kanyang pag-ibig sa atin nang mamatay si Cristo para sa atin noong tayo’y makasalanan pa.” (Roma 5:8) Iniwan ni Cristo ang kaluwalhatian Niya sa langit at inialay Niya ang Kanyang buhay para mapabilang lang tayo sa Kanyang pamilya.

Ngayon, ano ang sagot mo sa Kanyang pag-ibig para sa iyo?

Dahil sa pagmamahal Niya sa’yo, nais ng Diyos ibigay sa iyo ang buhay na walang hanggan. Ngunit ang iyong mga kasalanan ang humahadlang sa pagtanggap mo ng kaloob na ito. Kahit mahal ka ng Diyos, hindi ka pupuwede sa kanyang presensya dahil sa iyong mga kasalanan.

Ganoon na lamang ang pag-ibig ng Diyos, kaya’t ipinadala Niya ang Kanyang kaisa-isang Anak na si Jesu Cristo na sinuman ang manampalataya (kay Hesus) ay hindi mapapahamak kundi magkakaroon ng buhay na walang hanggan.

Si Hesus ang ekspresyon ng pag-ibig ng Diyos. Siya ang pag-ibig na ibinigay at ipinahayag ng Diyos—ang Diyos na siya ring pag-ibig. Kailangan lang nating itong tanggapin at isuko ang lahat kay Hesus. Kailangan mo lamang talikdan ang iyong kasalanan at maka-mundong gawain. Ano pa ang humahadlang sa’yo na tanggapin ang kaloob na pag-ibig ng Diyos ngayon?

Freedom in Echo

How do we define freedom? Are we really free? Does everyone experience freedom? Can we get the freedom we want?

Friends, fellow scholars and thinkers, a blessed morning!

These questions lingered in my mind since elementary years. Answers kept its silence until this day. I know these queries also bother you. And now I will do what our philosophy professor did to our class, I challenge you and your freedom.

Our forefathers fought the invaders and colonizers in the name of freedom. Civil wars started to obtain freedom and independence. The search for freedom from unrighteous government and rightly change pushed Filipinos to march on the streets during EDSA revolutions. Convict’s freedom and some rights were denied by the law. Slaves never gained their freedom to live for themselves. Less fortunate people lament for they want to free themselves from extreme poverty. Youths, nowadays, were liberal that they rebelled against their parents. They do it to free themselves from their parent’s supervision and live as to what they want. We all cry for freedom, in different tongues, styles, purposes and time. It is a general word which we frequently encounter. And the truth is we all desire to have freedom- to be free to have our own way.

---

According to Webster, freedom is a condition or a state of being free. It is a state we experience which is processed from the mind and influenced by outside factors. One of my mentors said that freedom is only in the mind. Essentially, she is right. It is the same from being happy, being in-love, being sad, being worried, being afraid, or being sick. Our freedom lies in what we think and in what we do regarding it. A person may feel he’s free even his inside a prison cell, while a freeman can think he’s imprisoned.

I repeat. Our freedom depends on us. It relies on how we think about ourselves and how we look everything around us. If we are enslaved of something or someone, we tend to say that we are not free. We only feel it because of our low self-esteems and we indeed lost our hope. If we look things in their worst side, we feel burdened and less free to live. Optimism and enthusiasm in life give us freedom from worries and fears. Remember also that peace of mind is an indicator of freedom. The calmness of the heart guides us to a free and blessed life.

We lived in a democratic country, but it seems ironic that we don’t really understand the term freedom. It is a well associated word to democracy. We used it often but we don’t know what it really stands for. Some interpretations and opinions would say that freedom is just being free- free to do anything with no bounds. Is it true? Of course, it is not true.

There is no such thing as total freedom existing on earth. We can’t do things freely as to what we want. People who say they attained total freedom are liars. It is an illusion, an abstract and a fool’s dream. Freedom is not an absolute term for its meaning and value vary from person to person, but in general, freedom can’t be total. Freedom is being free within specific bounds. Our freedom has limits. In Mathematics, its graph has end points and is not continuous. Same as rights, our freedom ends when the freedom of others begins.

In other words, we can’t attain total freedom, but we can be free. We can experience freedom, but not to the extent we usually want. We can do righteous acts freely but not evil ones. We can freely walk on land except fly in the air. We can express ourselves freely yet it is controlled by ethics. Who says that people under dictatorship doesn’t experience freedom? People living under dictatorship still freely live and work though regulated by the dictator’s order. Hence, freedom can’t become total because of laws. The natural laws, laws of God and laws of man define the boundaries and the area of our freedom. We are free as long as we are not against those bounds. Simply, laws are the limits of freedom.

Now think. Are you free? Do you experience freedom? Do you still wish to achieve total freedom? It’s time for you to answer.

*first posted on semaj-lien.weebly.com

Pagod Ka Na Bang Umibig?

Naranasan mo na bang magmahal? Marahil ay “oo” na. Eh, ang mahalin ng iba? O, maaaring ikaw ‘yung tao na nakaranas mabigo at masaktan?

Minsan, nawawala ka na sa sarili mo. Nagugluhan. Nalilito. Di malaman ang gagawin. Bakit sa halip na kaligayahan ang maidulot ng pag-ibig ay puro sakit ng damdamin ang nakuha mo? Para yatang mali ang napasukan mo. Hindi bale, may pag-asa pa!

Maaaring sumuko ka na at nagsabing “Pagod na akong umibig,” ngunit may Isa na hindi sumusuko sa pagmamahal sa’yo. May Isang hindi ka iiwan ni pababayaan kailanaman, kahit ilan beses mo na Siyang tinalikuran. May Isa na kahit sino at ano ka pa at kahit ano pa man ang iyong mga nagawa ay tunay na magmamahal sa’yo at hinding-hindi ka bibiguin.

Mukha bang imposible na may magmahal sa’yo ng ganito? Ngunit ito’y totoo at ang tinutukoy ko ay ang Diyos. Iniibig ka ng Diyos at may magandang plano siya sa iyong buhay.

“Inihayag ng Diyos ang Kanyang pag-ibig sa atin nang suguin Niya ang kanyang bugtong na Anak upang magkaroon tayo ng buhay sa pamamagitan Niya.” (1 Juan 4:9) Sinasabi rin sa Roma 5:8, “Ngunit ipinadama ng Diyos ang Kanyang pag-ibig sa atin nang mamatay si Cristo para sa atin noong tayo’y makasalanan pa.”

Sa pagmamahal ng Diyos sa sanlibutan, kasama ka roon, ibinigay Niya ang kanyang kaisa-isang Anak. Dahil sa pag-ibig na iyon, namatay si Jesu Cristo maranasan lang natin ang magandang plano ng Diyos sa ating buhay.

Ang tao ay napapagod, ngunit ang Diyos ay hindi tumitigil na manuyo. Kumakatok siya sa iyong puso. “Nakatayo ako sa labas ng pintuan at tumutuktok. Kung diringgin ninuman ang aking tinig at bubuksan ang pinto, ako’y papasaok sa kanya.”

Ang Diyos ang masugid mong manliligaw. Tayo’y umiibig sapagkat ang Diyos ang unang umbig sa atin. (1 Juan 4:19) Iyong tanggapin lamang ang pag-ibig ng Diyos (na si Jesu Cristo) sa iyong buhay at hindi ka mabibigo sa pag-ibig na handog Niya. Talikdan mo ang iyong mga kasalanan at gawaing makalaman at isuko ang iyong sarili sa Kanya. Inaantay ng Diyos ang sagot mo.

WORDS

Word means a lot to us. It made us happy, excited, in-love, sad, angry, inspired, afraid, humiliated, crazy, bored, energetic, soft, hard, etc. Most of our feelings came from words- it's either from others or from the voice within you. Still words are not that perfect. It brought us misunderstanding and hard feelings. It can't express all we experience or feel.

Here are some sample of the power of words to influence and inspire. These are some quotes I've paraphrased, words of wisdom and sayings. Feel the strike of words in your heart and mind. This made me reflect something about life, hope it will do the same with you.

FAILURE IS NOT THE END OF BEAUTIFUL BEGINNINGS, BUT A START OF CHANGE. BEING AFRAID TO FAIL IS BEING AFRAID TO CHANGE. THERE IS FAILURE, SO WE CAN REALIZE THAT WE MUST CHANGE.

I pity others that tries to be somebody, ignoring who they really are. We strive to be a star, but in reality we are designed to be a planet.

Not all the times, joke is intended to make you laugh, but sometimes it is intended to make you think

-Karl Hinrich Ermac

10% of conflicts are due to difference in opinion, 90% are due to wrong tone of voice

People got tired of life, but what if life get tired of us?

The big question is this: Who are you?

In every situation we are faced to different choices we thought we never

had.

*first posted on semaj-lien.weebly.com

A DAY WITH A CHILD: THE GUIDE

It was a crowded holiday afternoon at the mall. No one would notice me with this dense of people if not because of Cecille…

…

It should be a perfect afternoon for me. My Mama, as she has promised me a long long time ago, took me to the mall. Mama is a missionary pediatrician. According to my pocket dictionary, a missionary is one who is devoted to and engaged in missions and a pediatrician is a doctor who specializes on children’s health. My Mama is always involved in medical missions and charity works. She travels a lot. Mama is really a busy woman.

I am proud of my mother, but because of her work she doesn’t have enough time for her own child. Now you know how I dreamed of this time. Mama took a day leave from her work just for me.

Actually, I have planned the whole afternoon with Mama. First, Mama would buy me a new polo shirt and a pair of shoes. Then, we will eat at my favorite fast food chain. I will have fried chicken, fries and spaghetti and Mama will have her favorite chicken fillet burger. After that, we will watch a movie together. I heard that the third movie of “The Chronicles of Narnia” is now showing in the cinemas.

But then…

About five minutes after we arrived at the mall, (I haven’t even finished our agenda at the mall) we have met a tall thin lady with a fragile-looking little girl. Mama greeted the lady for she knew her and Mama introduced me to the lady.

The lady, named Ms. Luna, is a director of a small orphanage for handicapped children. She and Mama have known each other because Mama held a medical mission in their orphanage. They chatted and I haven’t paid attention to them. All I want to do now is to proceed to the department store.

My attention was directed to the girl beside the lady. She was looking at the floor, never moving. It was so queer. Then, I realized that she was not really looking at the floor. She is blind. How can she look at something while in fact she was blind?

Mama called my attention. “Ned, can you wait for in the play area of the mall? There’s an emergency in Ms. Luna’s orphanage. I would be gone for an hour. I want you to take Cecille here. I’ll be back, Baby. I promised.”

There’s nothing I can do. Besides from being just a child, I was very shocked then. Mama and Ms. Luna left me and the little blind girl, named Cecille.

…

I was angry at Mama—angrier to Ms. Luna for snatching my Mama. I was left with a blind girl. They expect me to play with a blind girl?! Sheez!

At first, I forgot that Cecille is blind. I proceeded walking, expecting that she will follow. By the time I remember about her, I was about three meters away from her.

I came back for her. She was not crying. She doesn’t have any idea that I left her.

“Cecille?”

“What is it?” Her voice was innocent.

“Grab my arm. We will go to the playground.” I really felt weird. It is my first time to talk to a blind person. She was not looking for me but groped and grabbed my arm.

“I really don’t play,” she muttered.

“That’s not a problem. I don’t have any plans of playing too.” I was really pissed of about the destruction of my perfect time.

I maintained my normal pace, dragging Cecille. She walks so slow and cautious. What’s the matter with this girl?! I kept on pampering that irritated feeling. But Cecille never complained—she just kept her silence.

We are halfway to the play area when Cecille stumbled. It was embarrassing for me. Why does Mama left this impaired girl with me?! I said to my self.

I extended my arm for her. Then, I felt a drop of water in my arm. It was a tear. Cecille was crying. I was stunned. She cried without sound—a very frail impaired girl crying in front of me.

I helped her stand. This time I walked slowly and cautiously guiding Cecille. Also by this time, I notice everyone we passed-by was staring at us. It was not embarrassing at all.

We arrived at the playground. I found a space in a corner where we can sit. I helped her sit and I sat beside her.

“Thank you!” Cecille smiled facing my arm.

“You’re welcome.” I answered, overwhelmed.

We sat there. I asked Cecille questions I always want to ask to blind people. She answered it sincerely.

…

An hour passed, my Mama and Ms. Luna turned up. Finally, it’s time to continue my perfect afternoon. I hugged Mama and told her something.

“Mama, can we take Cecille with us during our strolling here?”

“Can we?” Mama asked Ms. Luna. The lady nodded. Yes was the answer.

We strolled at the mall. We went to the department store, bought stuffs for me and Cecille, eat at my favorite fast food, shared food with Cecille and then went home. All the time I was Cecille’s guide. Her arms were around my arm and we walk slowly and cautiously. It was indeed a perfect time for me.

Next time… I will play with Cecille.

*first posted on Facebook

A DAY WITH A CHILD: THE SCHOOL BULLY

It was a cold dark night. We were stuck in the gardener’s shed. It is quite a bit small for the two of us—me and Lawrence.

It was Lawrence’s fault why we are locked in this room…

…

Lawrence was known as the school bully. Every little child is afraid of him. Even the teachers cannot tame him. If you come in his way, definitely, you are dead!

He is way too big and way too tall for a fifth grader. Actually, he is a bit older for an average fifth grader.

He always teases and beats and provokes fights and makes the weak miserable. One day, I heard that he with his comrades beats up a helpless third grader at the school backyard. The school administration only gave a detention to Lawrence while his comrades gets suspension.

This proves that in my side of town money can make things lighter. I haven’ told you that Lawrence is one of the richest student in school and his parents gives immense donations every quarter to our poor school.

I also heard a story about Lawrence dumping feeble Michael in the school’s big garbage tank. Michael is the first honor in the fifth grade and his sight is awful. In what I learned, Michael refuses to give his assignment to Lawrence… and then, Wapham! He goes in the garbage tank with his assignment. The humiliation made Michael transfer to other special school. As for Lawrence, he only got reprimanded.

Like Michael, I am the type that doesn’t like to be bullied. So when Lawrence bullied me in the canteen, I declared it will be the last time he will bully anyone.

“What will you do, Red-face? Beat me?” Lawrence mocks. He refers to me as Red-face, because my face turned red whenever I’m angry. “Okay then. Let’s see what you can do.”

Lawrence challenged me to fight him after school at the old church’s backyard. I have to fight him. That’s the best way to end this. I thought. My father told me that bravery doesn’t mean that you always have to fight… but this time, I must fight the school bully.

…

The bell rang. End of the day in school. Time for the duelo. I nervously went to the church’s backyard. There I found Lawrence and some spectators from school.

“I thought you would be chicken enough to show yourself here, Red-face,” said Lawrence laughing.

I said nothing. I just sighed. Then Lawrence charged, agitated. He was agitated. He punched me in the face. I punched back right in his nose. Then we wrestled through the church's flower garden. The spectator cheered. It was unbelievable at first… but they were cheering for me.

Then we heard a shout.

“Bastard children! I’ll get you for this.”

It was the wicked gardener. We called him “wicked” because he is old and hostile looking. He tends the church’s plants, including the flowers we wrestled on.

The other children scampered quickly, escaping the grasp of the wicked gardener.

It was difficult for me and Lawrence to get up easily, so the brawny (I hadn’t thought he’s that brawny) wicked gardener got us and locked us up in his locker.

…

I don’t absolutely blame Lawrence. Actually I feel a little sympathy for him.

He curled beside a garden rake like a child afraid of lightning and thunder. I heard him sobbing. It maybe is a laughing stock for you, but not for me. My heart melted while staring at this monstrous bully being transformed to a baby-like coward. I wasn’t able to laugh.

I sat beside him and tap him in the shoulder. He turned to me with his teary eyes. “Are you not afraid?”

“Afraid of what?” I clarified.

“Afraid of being trapped here for the whole night… afraid of the creepy things… afraid of the darkness.”

“Oh yes! I’m afraid of being trapped here—in this dark small room,” I answered. Answering that question made me shiver.

“Why, then—you don’t seem to be afraid. You seem to be brave and courageous?” he asked again.

I smiled. I remember what my father said to me when I was little child and afraid of monster creeping from under my bed.

“Being brave doesn’t mean you’re fearless. Courage is facing what you are afraid of.” I repeated my father’s words.

Lawrence nodded. I put my arm in his shoulders and told him a joke I love. He laughed with a little sob. Then, I told another one. After a while, he told me a joke. It was not a hilarious one but it’s good. We exchanged jokes, recited poems and rhymes, and told each other tales until we fell asleep.

The morning came. The gardener stepped inside the room and let us out. Outside the shed were my father and Lawrence’s mother and two school faculties.

The brawny wicked gardener (whose name sounds like Metaphor) reported that night that he has us and has given us fair punishment during the night. Our parents, as well as the school administration, agreed upon hearing our offense. By the morning, we were fetched from the church’s yard and we gave apologies to the gardener. We, I and Lawrence, promised to help him to replace the flowers we destroyed.

After that, Lawrence and I parted. I am glad that our school bully finally found his courage.

*first posted on Facebook

A DAY WITH A CHILD: QUIET TIME

It was a noisy noon. All children were busy running around the school yard. Everybody is enjoying their lunch break with amusement and games, except for one…

While other children tire their tongues screaming, shouting, laughing and chatting, we were there at the back of the school building—just sitting, quietly sitting. He was just sitting a ruler away from me with his earphones on.

Then, I hear mumblings from his mouth. He’s singing, along with the music he’s listening. That really brought smile to me. It’s the first time I hear his soft voice. Most of the time, all I could hear from him are screams. Only now, soft gentle chants.

He doesn’t seem to notice me. I’ve been there for almost five minutes. He is just in the habit of ignoring people around him. I wish I could do that too. It is a gift not to notice people’s presence even they are right in your face.

It tried to break a gap between our worlds. “Hey,” I started. “Have you taken your lunch, Mark?”

He still ignores me. Maybe you will say how rude Mark is. But he is not. He is just like that since then day we met. I call it his defense mechanism.

I tried again breaking the gap. I opened my lunchbox. There I found two sandwiches. My mother always makes sure I share my “baon” with Mark. She is fond of him. Such an adorable boy she always says. Well, Mark is good-looking. Being half-blooded German, his complexion and hair color is different from all the children in the school.

I tap Mark’s shoulder and offered one of the sandwiches.

Mark closed his eyes. He really wants to be alone. Since his German father died from an accident, he insisted to be alone. I can feel it too. Sometimes, I like being alone to think and recollect the memory of my lost father. My father died because of cancer a year ago. Since then, I knew how Mark felt.

He still mumbled chants I really can’t recognize. I gave up bridging out of the silence. I just sat there, helping myself in the sandwich.

Quietly, time passed by. I finished my sandwich. I tried to identify what song he is trying to sing. I sat there, just beside Mark. Not all people around Mark do this. They usually avoided him. He is so ill-tempered and all the children of his age despised him.

We sat there for almost half an hour, without talking. I stood up. I left Mark. I also left my lunchbox with the other sandwich beside him. He will eat that sandwich. I know he will. Then, I joined the other children.

…

The school bell rang. It’s time for our classes. We race into our classroom.

Mark wasn’t there.

He had probably been sick of other children teasing him. The class started yet my thoughts are still on Mark. What was he doing right now? Where is he?

…

The bell rang again. End of our day in school.

I sprinted back to the bench where Mark and I spend our lunch time. No Mark, only my lunch box.

I opened my lunch box. I found a letter inside it. It says:

Thank you! Thank you for keeping me company. Thank you for the sandwich. Tell your mom, it like it very much. Hope to see you tomorrow.

He didn’t sign it but I knew, from the handwriting, that it came from Mark.

Now, I’m again looking forward for a day with my deaf best friend, Mark.

*this was first posted on Facebook.