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Tab Candy

2010-07-25T03:02:00.001+08:00

I will never get board with my new internet browser!

http://www.azarask.in/blog/post/tabcandy/

Read that link and you'll have the epiphany I'm having right now! SUCK THIS APPLE AND GOOGLE CHROME!!!

A ride going to HOME

2010-07-16T22:19:00.002+08:00

Today I took a different route going home. Instead of riding a bus going to the terminal, I decided to ride the MRT (Metro - Rail Transit), that lead me to see this amazing thing.

I waited for the train for about 5 minutes or so. When it finally came, the door closest to my place of rest was full of people that when I try to go inside, I'll bounce back. So, not following the idiosyncrasy, I decided to go to the next door of the train. Well, at least people there were fewer. As I walk towards the door, I noticed this guy near the door, trying to get inside. He was having a hard time getting in not only 'coz, he's extremely attractive btw, he has a bag that's quite enormous, but also he carries a little baby girl. From what I saw and estimation I think the baby girl is about 1 year old or less. I think she's the daughter of the one who keeps her. I was a little puzzled from what I saw 'coz from the looks of the guy, I assume he's in his early 20's, an range of age too young to have a baby. As the train traverse it's way to every station, I can't help but look at the guy. I mean, he's that attractive and I can't take my eyes off him. Every time I take a glance of him, I slightly pity him 'coz, he was standing holding his baby on his right while carrying that big bag. He was having a hard time holding on the railings until finally, one passenger sitting left off the train and he was given the vacant seat. At that point, I went closer to him, curious of his situation.

As I continue to look at him, I saw this beautiful thing.

He was talking to his baby girl, almost whispering. I don't know what he was saying because the baby wasn't giving me much of a reaction to what his father was saying to her. The sight of it was heart-warming. By just talking to his girl, I saw how much care the father has for his baby. He even took a bottle of water from his bag and ask his baby if she wants to drink, if she's thirsty or something (I just assume that this was what the guy was doing based on his action). If my eyes can take pictures, I would have made a photo album of that scene, taking pictures of how true caring means. I was in extreme delight to see such scenic view that it almost made me cry. I may not have the total idea of it but from what I was witnessing that moment was just a little of what a father could give to his daughter. When we were on the last station, I couldn't bear what I was seeing so I decided to get off the train as fast as I could, leaving with a heart all overwhelmed. I realize, that was what I call home. Someone who cares for you at all times and can give you love without boundaries.

From what I experienced, I want to have a family of my own. I really do. I want to experience what the guy is experiencing today. I want to give love to my children without asking anything in return. I may want this now, but, it can still wait. Hopefully, something will be waiting. This, I'll make happen. :)

What we say comes from the brain

2010-07-13T22:57:00.005+08:00

Okay. Usually when I'm inside the bus going home, as always, many ideas come in my mind one which is this - someone can't brag that he/she doesn't have a negative character when all the actions one makes indicate such. I hope this idea makes sense.

I mean, if I tell people how stupid they are because of their simple mistakes, doesn't it make me look like an you-know-all guy? and then negate the people saying that I'm such? I will totally hate myself if I'll be like that. Sometimes, we refuse to be something because we don't want to be like that something even though our actions tell the whole world we are like that. Is it really you that know who you really are? The answer is yes to those who admit. The rest? SUCK IT! What we say comes from our brain and what the brain thinks manifest who we really are, whether we like it or not.

I'll try to

2010-07-11T21:54:00.002+08:00

try to do something so please support me. What am I talking about? Update my blog, I mean this blog, every now and then. Yes! I endevour to share all of you my life and my realizations everyday. I hope I can do this. It's a good way to get rid all of my frustrations, simple happiness and, of course, realizations. Good thing I have this blog :)

Tough Times Never Last, But Tough People Do! by Robert H. Schuller [Excerpt]

2010-04-01T13:54:00.003+08:00

Tough Times Never Last

I was really inspired by the story told by Dr. Schuller based on his personal experience and I ought to share this with you. Kindly take time to read and I swear it's worth reading.

*********

It was a harsh summer, the summer of ’82. For many, it was as if the clocks had rolled back to the thirties and the time of the Great Depression. Company upon company declared bankruptcy. Unemployment soared. The ‘sever and prolonged recession,’ as it was dubbed by the media, sent ripples of depression across America.

Politicians used the depressed state of the country to their advantage. It provided a great opportunity to highlight the failures, shortcomings, and faults of the opposite political party. Democrats found in it an opportunity to blame the Republican administration which was in charge. Predictably, the Republicans, in turn, blamed the “democratic administration that created the problem” which the Republicans had inherited.

Everybody was fixing the blame—nobody was fixing the problem!

The problem persisted. They grew. The recession ran rampant across the country until nearly everyone was affected by it. No one was immune.

I, personally, felt it as pastor of the Crystal Cathedral congregation and head of a national television ministry, which was broadcast on 169 television stations every week. With five hundred people on the payroll, we were operating on a budget of well over twenty million dollars a year. The cost of operations continued to increase dramatically. Like the rest of America, we too were faced with tough economic times.

No one could deny that the country had problems. But the biggest problem we had was our attitude toward the economic problem. Negative thinking spread like a plague through all levels of society. It was not easy to protect oneself from the infection of negative thinking, which spread by word of mouth, by conversations with friends as well as strangers, by television screens, and by radio news reports.

It spread quickly because in recessive times the tendency is to react negatively. Once and organism, a business, a life, or a country is infected with negative thinking, the infection attacks the mind, the heart, and the soul like termites that secretly gnaw away at the emotional support system.

It was in the midst of this national mood that I arrived at the Hilton Hotel in downtown Chicago. I was there to present a motivational lecture at a major convention.

Delivering lectures of inspiration as well as on successful management principles was nothing new to me. Each year I travel from coast to coast, giving nearly one hundred talks to doctors, executives. Educators, you name it.

However, I was particularly fascinated by this engagement. My audience would be members of the Ag-Industry. (“Ag” is, of course, the abbreviation for agriculture.) This industry represents those who are involved in the farming enterprises of the Midwest states of Iowa, Michigan, Illinois, and Minnesota. Having been born and reared on and Iowa farm, I looked upon this as an opportunity to touch base with some of the people that came from the same soil I left forty years before.

My anticipation of a warm, inspirational evening was quickly doused by a couple of somber-looking gentlemen. The convention badges pinned to their dark lapels identified them as the men for whom I was looking. They greeted me with restrained enthusiasm. “Dr. Schuller? Thank you for coming.”

Their words reminded me of the thousands of times I have arrived at some scene of tragedy. In hospitals, mortuaries, courtrooms, and cemeteries, I have heard those words: “Thank you for coming.” I couldn’t help feeling that I had arrived at the scene of some tragedy, rather than at a motivational convention.

The younger man spoke: “There are thirty-five hundred people in there waiting to hear you speak.”

His companion interrupted. “These people are going through tough times. They don’t want to hear your funny stories. They don’t want to see you grinning from ear to ear like you do on television. They don’t want a pat on the back with a hollow promise that ‘Everything is going to be okay.’”

At that point, both men moved shoulder to shoulder to face me as if they meant to block me from entering the platform. The first man spoke up, “That’s right, Dr. Schuller. These people are losing their farms. Their businesses are going bankrupt. Terrible pressures are being placed on their marriages and families. They need help. And more than anything else they need hope. Give it to them.”

With that admonishment they nodded to the sound man, who pinned the microphone to my suit. As he did, I heard through the thin wall that separated the backstage area from the speaker’s platform, the master of ceremonies’ introduction: “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure now to introduce our keynote speaker. His name is Dr. Robert Schuller. He is the pastor of the world-famous Crystal Cathedral. This beautiful building was built at a cost of over twenty million dollars and was dedicated virtually debt-free. No minister or priest or rabbi speaks to more people every week in the world or in the United States of America than does Dr. Robert Schuller from Garden Grove, California. It’s our pleasure now to welcome one of the world’s most successful men—Dr. Robert Schuller. Let’s give him a great welcome!”

The sound of enthusiastic applause surrounded me as I stepped onstage to face this collection of depressed souls. Thirty-five hundred people were on their feet, applauding me. The grand ballroom was packed to capacity.

Inwardly I shuddered. My carefully planned speech had just gone out the window. The three jokes I was prepared to tell for my own pleasure and for the purpose of “warming up my audience” now seemed out of place.

I found myself walking across the stage without the faintest idea of what I would tell these troubled people. I paced myself quietly from one end of the platform to the other, trying to collect my thoughts. I searched the eyes of the audience. I recalled the words of the stern welcoming committee. I decided to recover my position by asking a question.

“They tell me that you are having tough times. Is that right?’

The question gave me time to embrace a dramatic pause. Such a pause can be a lifesaver to a public speaker.

I continued to pace back and forth, pretending to exude the confidence of a well-prepared lecturer.

I could tell that my opening question had grabbed their attention—probably more effectively than the three funny stories I had carefully placed in my front pocket.

From that point on I delivered a spontaneous lecture that at times erupted with new insights. Wanting desperately to help these people and give them hope, I decided to address myself specifically to the pressing problems of these men and women who represented an industry vital to the health and welfare of our country. They represented the core of the breadbasket of America. The food in the markets and on the tables of our country comes from the labor and the leadership of these agriculture businessmen and women.

I remembered years ago what I was taught in my undergraduate studies in public speaking, lecturing, debating, and oratorical work in Hope College, Holland, Michigan, and again in my training at Western Theological Seminary in preparation for delivering sermons and talks from pulpits: the most effective speech is not a sermon but a witness. Essentially the principle is this: If you don’t have any advice to give, you can always share your own story.

If there has been any excitement, challenge, crises, and resolution in your life, then share it! Everybody likes a good story.

Drawing on this principle, I decided to share with the farmers how I handled the tough times in my life.

I suspected that my audience was not aware of the fact that I, too, had tough times. My introduction portrayed me only as a very successful man, senior minister, founder and builder of a twenty-million-dollar, internationally acclaimed work of art called the Crystal Cathedral. They could only perceive me as very successful. They had not been told that I, too, had walked a path similar to the one they were now walking.

Should I tell them about the time a twenty-below-zero blizzard raged through the lonely blackness of an Iowa night? Should I tell them how the wind whistled around the fragile country house, successfully penetrating the cracks between the window frame in the northwest corner of my bedroom, leaving fresh drifts of snow on the floor beside my bed? Should I tell them how we didn’t have the money to buy coal to warm the house? Should I tell them how we raced to escape with our lives from a tornado? Should I tell them how we survived the great drought, when the shortage of natural rainfall parched the earth and proved more devastating and destructive than the shortage of cash flow that had already hit all of the Americans in the Great Depression? Should I tell them about my struggles to get through college? Should I tell them about the fire in my rooming house in which I lost the few possessions I had? Should I tell them how I had to struggle to start a church with only five hundred dollars, in a strange state without friends, contacts, property, or community support?

Should I tell them about my wife’s bout with cancer? The near-loss of my daughter’s life in a motorcycle accident? The amputation of her leg? Should I share with them our struggles of the past three years, as we have tried to help her accommodate effectively to life as a young teen-ager with a disfigured, left stump of a leg? Should I tell them how I was forced by circumstances beyond my control to build the Crystal Cathedral when I didn’t want to build it, didn’t have the money, and knew well enough that I would be criticized for building a “monument”?

I decided not to pour out my whole life story. But I did decide to begin with the realities of the tough times I had been through and how they had been handled successfully through a faith based on possibility thinking.

“Farming life has never been easy. My boyhood farm was a typical Midwestern farm. That meant it was small. The industry was not simple crop farming. The crops were harvested and fed to livestock. Chickens laid the eggs, which was traded for groceries. Cows grazed the grassland along the river that was too difficult to plow. We milked the cows and sold the milk. When the hogs reached their prime weight, they were sold at market. It was a one-crop-a-year farm. That meant that we planted the oats and the corn in the spring time and harvest it in the fall, to be gathered into barns and saved for feed for the hogs. The winter season was merely a time of survival—waiting and hoping for spring.”

My father purchased our farm when prices were at their peak. Real estate had been climbing steadily. I was born only a few years layer, September16, 1926.

How my father saved enough to buy our farm is a story in itself. Because he lost his parents as a teen-ager, Dad was forced to drop out of school in the sixth grade and to find the only job he could—as a hired hand for the local farmers. One could always husk corn: Rip each single golden ear from its nest of leaves, crack off the six-foot stem, and throw it into the wagon. My father was a thrifty young man and was able to save a few nickels and dimes that he earned for each ear of corn he picked.

Finally he had saved enough to purchase a 160-acre farm. Unfortunately he bought it at the top of the price cycle. When I was three years old the Great Depression hit. Real estate prices plummeted along with the stocks. While internationally famed corporate chiefs were committing suicide in Wall Street, lonely farmers—America’s original small businessmen—were clinging with broken fingernails to the earth, hoping to survive.

My father was one of those tough, tenacious farmers. Winter was the worst. I shall never forget the times when we did not have money to buy coal. The trees that surrounded the house were considered precious living creatures that could not be sacrificed for fuel. So we never considered cutting them down and sawing them up for the wood-burning stove.

Instead it became my job, as a child, to step over the three-foot high splintered wooden fence and climb into the jog yard among the one hundred squirming, squealing hogs. With and empty basket I maneuvered my way through the excrement, picking up every corncob left after the hogs had consumed the kernels.

Not a single cab was left uncollected. Every single one was considered of real value. When the basket was filled, I would carefully carry it to the tiny two-story, white sideboard home where my mother, father, brother, and sisters lived. The corncobs would fuel the stove in the kitchen. They would also be used in the potbelly stove in the little living room. These were the only two sources of heat in the house. Little grills in the ceilings allowed some of the heat to pass from the downstairs kitchen and living room to the upstairs bedrooms. But cracks in the walls let in just as much freezing air.

“Do you want to hear about my experience with poverty?” I said to the struggling thirty-five hundred businessmen, seated in the carpeted ballroom of the plush Hilton Hotel. “Let me tell you about poverty. I was so poor we had to use corncobs to heat our homes to keep from freezing to death in the subzero winters. We used corncobs because we could not afford coal.”

“Those were tough times!” I bellowed.

Then I recalled the years of the great drought. Even as the economic depression ravaged the country, the Iowa farmers fought a far tougher battle. For reasons we never understood, the normal spring rainfall never came to moisten the newly planted corn and oats. The few precious dollars that my father was able to save had to be spent on seed corn.

I always wondered how he dared to risk throwing seed in the ground where it might rot and die, when he could safely bring it to town and convert it to cash. “Why take a chance?” I once asked my father. “Why don’t you play it safe and sell it?”

“People who never take a chance,” he taught me wisely, “never get ahead.”

Of course, there is no success without the application of the multiplication principle. It was a natural, native, basic principle that every farmer understood. So in the springs of 1931, 1932, and 1933 my father took all that he had left—the last kernels of corn, the last cups of oats—and planted them in the ground of his small Iowa farm, expecting that the rains would fall.

He hoped that the seeds would become wet and bloated until they erupted with new life, sending their tender little sprouts up through the softened spring soil. Light-green rows of corn would begin to grow and stand out against the black background of the dark Iowa ground.

Rainfall is essential to a farmer’s success. And Iowa farmers can expect rain to fall at least once every other week.

If, for some reason, the rains did not fall for three or four weeks, one inch of the topsoil would dry out first. Then, if rain still did not come, the soil would gradually grow dry at two, three, four, five inches deep, until the hair-like tentacles of the roots of the new corn plants would die.

The first evidence of the death of the roots would be a wilted leaf.

When the rains did not fall for two weeks, my father was worried. When the third and fourth weeks passed with no rain I saw his face grow very grave. Not once did he become angry. Never did he miss praying with bowed head at the table before our morning, noon, or nighttime meals.

The only thing my father did about the drought was pray. That was the only thing he could do. Farmers gathered from miles around, at special prayer meetings, filling the little white churches that dotted the rolling landscapes. Out of respect and reverence to the almighty God, each farmer came, not in his overalls, but in his one and only suit and tie. They called upon God Almighty to save their land and their crops. They asked Him to send rain.

Then all they could do was to go home and wait for His answer. For a whole year the Lord was silent. Day after day, the sun bore down on the crops. Every day we thirstily scanned the scorching sky for a sign of a cloud. More than once I ran into the house, calling out, “I’ve seen a cloud! God may be answering our prayer!” But the clouds always dissipate.

Finally, as if in fact our prayers were being answered, there was a gathering of clouds. Hopes began to rise again. The desperately needed rainfall was moving in from the west! Flashed of lightning slashed through the black sky. Thunder cracked. The trees trembled with fright as the wind whipped through their branches. It rained!

I was jubilant, but my father did not share my enthusiasm. Neither did my mother. For they knew what I did not know: the rain was totally inadequate. When the last thunder clap echoed in the distance, signaling the passing of the storm, the sun came out bright and hot again. We walked outdoors. My father scooped up a handful of the wet, moistened surface soil. Only the top quarter-inch was wet and black. Below that the earth was powdery dry.

Then the winds began to blow—from where we did not know. The sky turned from bright blue to a drab gray to a dirty brown. And the clean bright air that I enjoyed breathing as a child suddenly became polluted with dust. “That’s South Dakota land you are breathing, Son,” my father said. South Dakota, the state that bordered Iowa on the northwest, was suffering a worse drought that Iowa. It did not even enjoy the sporadic showers that moistened the surface soil. The barren land, devoid of any vegetation, lay helpless before the gathering winds. They swept the feathery particles of earth high into the sky, carrying them hundreds of miles to the east. Like drifts of snow the dust settled on our farm. When the winds blew harder, the dust sandblasted the few rows of corn that had managed to survive the drought. The fragile young plants, wilted and weakened for want of refreshing water, were no match for the grit driven by the hot winds. There was total devastation. Here and there, like bones of a dead animal, dead corn stalks protruded above the drift of dry sand.

Still the winds did not cease. It became a common procedure for my brother, sisters, and me to cover our faces with wet clothes as we walked the short distance from our house to the outdoor toilet. When we walked to the well, where we hoped we would be able to pump water from the forty-foot reservoir, we would have to protect ourselves from the suffocating dust with our moistened masks.

Our water became more and more scarce as the meandering snake of a river dried up. The Floyd River had been my closest childhood friend. On its green banks, near open pastures, I would lie, watching the clouds change shape in the blue sky. It was there that I felt closest to my Creator.

I became incurably addicted to God’s natural green gardens. Years later, I would hope and dream of a place where I would worship and see the sky above me, day and night. Years later I would dream of a church that could allow all of the sky to permeate our troubled minds with its peace, bringing healing from worry and anxiety. Years later I would find that dream fulfilled in a Crystal Cathedral.

But during the summer of the great drought, I watched the river dry up. Little pools of water became mud holes where squirming bullhead catfish died. We were surrounded by death—the river was dead, the fish were dead, and most importantly, the crops were dead.

Summer finally gave way to fall. Newspapers nationwide proclaimed the Midwest farm belt to be in “total disaster.” Even the New York bankers and corporate chiefs became concerned about a plague that was as great, if not greater than their own economic depression. The breadbasket of America was in ruins.

If it had been a normal year, my father would have expected to harvest corn that would fill dozens of wagons. That year, my father harvested barely a half a wagon of corn, grown on a half-acre of ground. In a normal year, this swampy lot, fed by some mysterious underground spring, was too wet to produce any fruit at all.

My father had often thought about digging deep into that plot to drain the subsurface water away. Now in the year of the drought this small plot of ground was the only parcel out of 160 acres where the corn had survived. Here the corn lived, drawing moisture from a subterranean source. Here the corn grew nearly six feet tall. And here we harvested the minuscule crop.

It was but half a wagon of corn.

A total disaster? Not quite. For a half a wagon of corn was better than none at all. In fact, it was equal to the amount of seed that had been sowed earlier that year. A total loss? No. We gained nothing. But most importantly we lost nothing!

I shall never forget my father’s dinnertime prayer that night.

“Dear Lord. I thank You that I have lost nothing this year. You have given me my seed back. Thank You!”

Not all farmers had as much faith as my father did.

“For sale” sign began to appear on farm after farm. Discouraged farmers who could not imagine that things would get better packed up and abandoned their land. Other farmers simply threw their hands up in despair and allowed the bank to foreclose. More than one piece of property sold on the courthouse steps.

Years later I asked my father how he had survived. After all, he had had no cash reserves. He had had no rich relatives.

“I went to the bank,” my father said, “and I promised them that if they would help me, somehow I’d return their money. I pleaded with them to refinance, rearrange the mortgage, postpone the due date. For some reason, the bank believed in me and it helped.”

I remember that bank! I have early childhood memories of going there, in patched overalls, with my father. I recall seeing this slogan on a calendar in that bank: “Great people are ordinary people with extraordinary amounts of determination.”

I’m convinced that that slogan exemplified the positive attitude of my father and inspired the bankers to go along with him and give him an extension on his mortgage payment.

That slogan was an explanation of my father’s success and an inspiration to me to attempt the impossible too! For I had dreams of my own—to go to college and seminary.

Some years later, on a quiet June afternoon, the tornado struck. I had not unpacked my suitcases, having returned only a few days before for the summer recess from my college studies. Throughout the afternoon, my dad and I could hear an awesome roar reverberating like the hum of a mighty organ. The eerie sound was like many freight trains rumbling above the threatening and gathering clouds.

“Sounds like we’re in for a hailstorm,” my dad murmured.

In a desperate attempt to protect his prize roses, we rounded up empty pails and wooden boxes to cover every treasured bush. It was six o’clock now. We had finished our evening meal in haste. From the vantage point of our front lawn we could see more than a mile across the rolling farm land. The sun was lost now, seemingly swallowed by the black monstrous storm that was prowling the western sky.

Slowly, with alarming stillness like a tiger crawling up on a sleeping prey, the storm crept closer. Gusts of hot wind blew the dry dust of the country road. The old box elder bent before the mounting winds.

Out in the pasture a cow bellowed frantically, calling her little calf to come to her side for safety.

My riding horse seemed to sense impending disaster. He cut a commanding picture, standing erect, with head held high, graceful neck arched. His tail, lifted slightly, fanned in the wind; his ears searched the air for sounds of danger.

Suddenly a black lump, about the size of the sun, bulged out of the black sky. In an instant it telescoped to the ground in a long gray funnel. For a moment it hung suspended—like a slithering serpent, about to strike death to helpless victims below. Dad called to Mom: “It’s a tornado, Jennie!”

I asked excitedly, “Are you sure it’s a real tornado, Dad?” My first emotion was delightful excitement. This would be something to tell the fellows when I returned to Hope College in the fall. The funnel seemed so small I couldn’t imagine the fury that could be unleashed from such a funny cloud.

“Call Mother, Son, and tell her to take whatever she can grab and come to the car. We’ve got to get out of here—right away!”

A moment later we were driving crazily down the road. We lived on the east end of a dead-end and had to drive a mile west, directly into the path of the oncoming tornado in order to reach a side road that led south, away from the path of the storm. We made it.

Two miles south, we parked our car on the crest of the hill and watched the wicked twister spend its killing power. As quickly and quietly as it had dropped, it lifted and disappear. It was all over. The storm was gone. The air was deathly still, but the danger was past. Gentle raindrops now began to fall. The tail end of the dark sky dropped a soothing shower of cool rain, as if heaven were pouring a soothing balm on fresh wounds.

We could go home now. “Oh, God, will we find our house?” We reached the crossroads, only to find a long line of cars. Curious sightseers, sensing that something terrible had happened, already were gathering. They were looking at the complete destruction of a neighboring farm.

Wondering if our house had been spared, we drove down the lonely road, crisscrossed by wires from broken telephone poles, toward our secluded farm. We came to the base of the hill that hid the view of our house. Before, we had been able to see the peak of our barn. But not now. We knew before we went over the hill that our barn was gone.

Now we were on the top of the hill. We saw it. Everything was gone. Where only a half hour before there had been nine buildings, freshly painted, now there were none. Where there had been life, there was the silence of death. It was all gone—all dead.

Only white foundations remain, lying on a clean patch of black ground. There was no debris. Everything had simply been sucked up and carried away. Three little pigs, still living, suckled the breasts of their dead mother, lying in the driveway. We could hear the sickening moan of dying cattle, the hiss of gas escaping from a portable tank of butane used to provide fuel for our stove. Then I saw my riding horse—lying dead with a fourteen-foot-long two-by-four piercing his belly.

Dazed, our brains reeling, we sat in our car. My father was past sixty and had worked hard for twenty-six years to try to win this farm. The mortgage was about due. This seemed to kill all chances of ever saving the place from the creditors. I looked at my dad, sitting horror-stricken, white-haired, underweight from overwork, his hands blue, desperately gripping the steering wheel.

Suddenly those calloused hands with their bulging blood vessels began hitting the steering wheel of the car, and Dad cried, “It’s all gone! Jennie! Jennie, it’s all gone! Twenty-six years, Jennie, and it’s all gone in ten minutes.”

Dad got out of the car, ordering us to wait, and walked with his cane around the clean-swept, tornado-vacuumed farmyard.

We later found out that our house had been dropped, in one smashed piece, a half-mile out in the pasture. We had had a little sign on the kitchen wall—a little molded plaster motto. Its simple verse was: “Keeping looking to Jesus.” My dad found and carried to the car the broken top half: “Keeping looking…” Well, this was God’s message to Dad—Keep looking! Keep looking!

Don’t quit now. Don’t sell out. Dig in and hold on. And he did! People thought my dad was finished, but he was not. He was not finished because he would not give up. He had faith with hanging-on power! There’s one ingredient that mountain-moving faith, miracle-generating faith, earth-shaking faith, problem-solving faith, and situation-changing faith must have, and that ingredient is holding power. So Dad didn’t quit.

Two weeks later we found in a nearby town an old house that was being torn down. A section of it was available for sale for fifty dollars. So we bought this remnant and took it apart, piece by piece. We saved every nail and every shingle. And from these pieces we built a new little house on the old home farm! One by one, additional farm buildings were built. Nine farms were demolished in that tornado but my father was the only farmer to rebuild a completely demolished farm. A few years later prices rose sharply. Farm products prospered. Within five years the mortgage was paid off. My father died a successful man!

“So you’re having tough times! Are they tougher times than my father experienced?” I looked deep into the eyes and the hearts of the new generation of Iowa farmers. “Are you burning corncobs for fuel? Have you lost everything in a tornado? Is the mortgage due and the cash not there? Are you tempted to walk away and put the place up for sale? Then let me tell you something about tough times. I believe I have walked the path and have earned the right to comment on tough times. Let me tell you something about tough times.

Tough times never last, but tough people do!

The place broke up with applause. Those thirty-five hundred farmers who had lost hope and had battled depression found that hope. They caught a new vision and began to dream again.

Are you facing tough times today? Overwhelmed? I invite you to take a walk with me. Let me tell you about survivors—and how you can be one too! In the process your life will become a light for someone else’s pathway.

The path is called “The Possibility Thinking Path.” I’ve been preaching it for years. It has never let me down. It has never let anybody down. IT never quits on us. We may quit the path, but the path keeps right on going on to happiness, health and prosperity.

*************

So not Cool, guys!

2010-04-01T11:11:00.002+08:00

Another disappointing decision from America by eliminating Didi Benami instead of Tim Urban. Comparing the two, I think Didi has the more potential to lift herself up from the grave critiques she gets from the judges unlike Tim who never listens to them. And when it comes to looks, I think Didi is also hot, just like Tim! I mean she's undeniably pretty. I won't be surprised if Crystal will be eliminated next! Really not cool!!!

a blog of apology

2010-02-28T14:09:00.002+08:00

Sorry. Yan ang dapat na unang sabihin ko. Sa totoo lang, nahihiya ako sa sarili ko at sa inyo tungkol last night. I was really drunk and maybe that was the worst drunk experience I had. I threw up ng madaming beses tapos sinaktan ko pa si Gelo at hindi ko alam kung bakit. Sorry talaga Gelo. I feel really really bad at the moment at dahil ito sa aking pagiinom. Hindi ko na nacontrol ang sarili ko. Akala ko dati, kaya ko ang sarili ko pag lasing, masaya pag umiinom because of the experiences I had during my college time. Hindi pala sa lahat ng pagkakataon. I owe all of you an apology, sobra. Sobrang naiiyak ako ngayon. Nang dahil sa bisyo ko, I hurt my friend. Ngayon, hindi ko alam kung paano ako haharap sa inyong lahat. Siguro, I really have to change, alisin na ang aking bisyo na pag-inom. Pwede naman akong magsaya ng hindi umiinom, ‘di ba? Kapag magkakasama tayo, ‘di ba masaya nay un? ‘di ba? I promise to all of you, hindi na ako magpapakalasing! Or better, hindi na ako iinom! I hope you can forgive me. I love you all, BFFs!!! :(

Salamat nga pala sa pagaasikaso sa akin kahapon

super emo mode. haha

2010-02-20T21:44:00.006+08:00

I just feel letting this thing out. I don't know how to but to put it into words. Hope you can all bear with it :)

I feel very disappointed at the moment towards myself when all I just wanted was to have fun with my friends, to celebrate with them for our college graduation. I admit, I just had too much of these rendezvous with my friends. I always wanted to be them and try not to miss a single "unforgettable" moment. 'Coz when I do, they always have something to say. Though I know that they we're just that advantage to make some fun conversation, every single word being uttered creates a hole of regret in me. And each seem to get bigger the moment they talk about it and it eats me whole. The feeling of catching up with them allows me to gain more of fun memories to remember. I realized now that I may have possessed those memories-worth-remembering with them, I also lose something very important with me, the trust of my parents. I feel that as I grow closer to my friends, the farther I go from my parents.

I feel really bad right now. I do most of the things I do for myself and for my family. But, these past few days, I think I focused on making myself happy that I didn’t consider my parents - how they feel that I always spent too much of my time being with my friends compared to the time I spent with them. I now ask myself: Are all those moments with my friends really worth possessing if I already lose one of the most important things in me, the trust of my parents? Honestly, I don’t know. But whatever it is, I have to gain what I just lost. I have to prove them that I am the opposite of what they think I am. I have to redeem myself from the unworthy-ness I am currently in. It was my mistake to always choosing being with them. And now, I think I should have NOT attended the graduation party. Sorry, and to myself as well.

*SOB*

"What would Jesus do?"

2009-12-30T23:42:00.003+08:00

The entry you are about to read is a blog created by Ann Hefflinger. She was one of the two missionaries that came to our church last two weeks or so. I want you all to read this because, maybe, all of us had felt what she experienced in this story. The first story she is about to tell happened near our place. Please take time to read. Thanks

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I'm not sure how to say this, or how to fit it in, so I'm just going to. Mission trips are not completely all fun and games. They are amazing and they are fun, but most the time I don't post some of the terrible things I see because I do not want to dwell on them. However, one evening, this year, on Dec 20, 2009,

I saw my first legless man hop himself across the road...

I also watched as hundreds of people streamed passed him and did there best to avoid him by completely ignoring him. We were at a bus stop in front of Jolibees when we heard some ruckus and two young boys went running by. We turned around to see the cause of this, and there hoping towards us was a legless man. Everyone, including myself, turned away as he continued to quickly hop passed us and to the edge of the road. I could barely comprehend what I just saw, so I turned to look at him again. I did not want to look at his legs, so I looked at his face, and was captivated by what I saw. He was young looking, maybe in his 20s or 30s. His eyes did not have that hallow, empty look like so many homeless. And though it seemed so out of place, and almost wrong, he looked happy and somewhat content. But he had big scar on his right cheek that told me his life was anything but happy. I was surprised that He did not look at us, nor was he begging for money. He just studied the road intently, and once let out a weird sounding cry, as if he was trying to speak but couldn't. Then I noticed he wore sandals on his hands. I assume so that they wouldn't be shredded as he hopped around the city.

A couple times I thought he would turn and look as us, maybe ask for money, or chase us like he chased the boys, but he never did. I kept expecting him to make eye contact with sad, sad eyes, but he would not. He just sat there, waiting for the road to clear. I wanted to say something to him, do something, anything but stare. I asked Pastor if I should give him money. He said No. I figured because then everyone would want money. I asked if we should do something, but everyone just looked at me with an amused compassion and said something I don't remember. All I was hearing is that they didn't want to help, and even louder, my own guilt for not doing anything. My heart was breaking for this man. I wanted so badly to talk to him, to share Jesus's love with him, and let him know not everyone was ignoring him, and that someone cares, but to be honest, i was afraid of him. Could he even speak? Would he be angry with me for taking pity on him? (He looked very vicious with the boys) Or would he appreciate it if I talked to him? Treated him like a human, and not a dog? A very faint memory of a wheel chair ministry came to my mind, and thought maybe it was Ser Jess I heard mention it. I asked Ser Jess about it, but he had no idea what I was talking about. He said he'd consider it. I wanted very bady to get this man a wheel chair. A feeling creep into my heart, and I knew it was wrong to feel this way, but i was frustrated that none of the men would step up and talk to him. After all, it might be safer, and more normal for them to speak with him. Another memory from Africa, of one of our leaders carrying a young girl with cybrilpalsy to the doctor, jumped into my head. It didn't really matter that I was a girl, and the guys were probably just as scared as me. Deep in my heart, I knew I should try to reach out to this man. But I hesitated, and about the time I felt like I was going to risk my life and talk to him, the road cleared and he hopped very quickly across the road on his hands, and disappeared into the dark streets.

I was relieved, but also cut like a knife and as I walked across the street and jumped into a van with Jesus stickers all over it. Shame poured over me like water. What kind of christian am I? I like to think i'm helping when I share the gospel, or participate in prayer meeting, or when I play with beautiful healthy orphan children, or hold a bible study, but is it all hypocritial if I won't help someone who really needs it?

Someone who does not have a safe place to live, who can't speak, who probably doesn't have any friends or family, who doesn't even have legs??

The story of this leg-less man continues to torment me. What would Jesus have done? He surely would not have stood by and watched. Jesus would probably heal him, or at least talk to him. The only way i've been comforted is to know that Jesus loves this man, and his heart is breaking for him too. And not just because he's leg-less, but for his soul. He could be saved, and that would explain the light in his eyes, but what if he's not? I know Jesus is intercessing for this man, and i'll be praying for him too. Maybe our story is not over. RM said he's been directing cars at that Jolibee's for years, and sometimes people pay him or give him food. Maybe i'll see him again next year, and next year, maybe i'll be able to do something. Maybe I could try to talk with him. Maybe we could get him a wheel chair and he could live with us at Saringyaman. Maybe he could learn to speak, read and write. Best of all, maybe he'll learn of Jesus and accept him into his heart!

I fell so unqualifyed for this, but if no one else will, i will.

Please be praying for this man (and me), and all the missionaries all around the world that have to deal with things like this every single day. Pray for the ugly, crippled, disabled, and legless, because in reality, they are beautiful, wonderful people just like the rest of us. It's hard enough what they have to go through, and most of them do it alone.
Why are the hands of God (us christians) not reaching?

"Why aren't His hands healing
Why aren't His words teaching
And if we are the Body
Why aren't His feet going
Why is His love not showing them there is a way

Jesus paid much too high a price
For us to pick and choose who should come
And we are the Body of Christ" ~ Casting Crowns song

Obviously, the story of this man has greatly impacted me, and for awhile I forgot that there are Christians helping the disabled. I realize there are a lot of Christians doing a lot to help the disabled. There are many wheel chair missions, medical clinics, hospitals, families adopting disabled and mentally ill children etc. Even my church was involved with raising money for a hospital for disabled children in Africa. It just all seems so impersonal because i've never been so close to a disabled person, who hasn't been helped, and no idea of how to help in real life.
And even though I despaired for awhile over this one man's life, I am comforted that others are being healed, and that

JESUS IS MOVING, HIS HANDS ARE HEALING, HIS WORDS ARE TEACHING, AND HIS LOVE IS SHOWING THE LOST THE WAY!

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--> "What would Jesus do?" This one really hit me. Most of us go to church every Sunday, for some even everyday, to listen to God's word. Don't we realize what does the Word of God wants us to do? Reach out to people and share them what we have, and that is Jesus. I mean ALL people. Most of the time, we choose the people we want to have a conversation. We're choosy that is. But God wants all people to be saved: the crippled, the mute, the ill, everyone! That is because God loves us all and He wants to share His love to all of us, with us realizing it. To experience life with Jesus as the center of it. It would be really nice to die in body and live forever in spirit, don't you think?

Always do to the answer "What would Jesus do?" I'm sure, it'll be the best thing to be done. :)

Anne's blog ---> link

Bro, Ikaw ang Star ng Pasko.

2009-12-26T22:23:00.004+08:00

This blog is intended to express my deep appreciation to those who made the song "Bro, Ikaw ang Star ng Pasko."

I really like the song not ONLY because it was used in the station ID of ABS-CBN, which they usually do every season, but the lyrics and rhythm of the song. The lyrics, in one way or another, made an impact to me on how should I celebrate my Christmas. The song is a contradictory of the common notion of (almost) everyone - that the true meaning of Christmas is being with our loved ones. I was once a slave of this idea. But when I though that my two sisters can't spend their Christmas with us, my parents since they work in Abu Dhabi, will I be happy this special occasion? Of course yes! Why? Just try to stimulate the message of the song "Bro, Ikaw ang Star ng Pasko." It clearly states every reason to celebrate Christmas despite everything bad (or worse) that had happened to everyone, don't you think? Christmas is all about Jesus Christ - his unparalleled sacrifices, not for his sake but for us. That's why there is the word 'Christ' on the name Christmas.

We may have had experienced a lot of hardships that we think we cannot overcome or just loose hope. But, hey! Never give up! Jesus is Hope. If we loose hope, we also loose our faith to Jesus. And when you do loose hope, you have no right celebrate Christmas. Never give up 'coz Jesus never gives up on you :)

*Star ng Pasko Lyrics*

Kung kailan pinakamadilim
Ang mga tala ay mas nagniningning
Gaano man kakapal ang ulap
Sa likod nito ay may liwanag

Ang liwanag na ito
Nasa 'ting lahat
Mas sinag ang bawat pusong bukas
Sa init ng mga yakap
Maghihilom ang lahat ng sugat

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Tayo ang ilaw sa madilim na daan
Pagkakapit bisig ngayon higpitan
Dumaan man sa malakas na alon
Lahat tayo's makakaahon

Ang liwanag na ito
Nasa 'ting lahat
Mas sinag ang bawat pusong bukas
Sa init ng mga yakap
Maghihilom ang lahat ng sugat

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Kikislap ang pag-asa
Kahit kanino man
Dahil ikaw Bro, dahil ikaw Bro
Dahil ikaw Bro
Ang star ng pasko

Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Dahil ikaw Bro, dahil ikaw Bro
Dahil ikaw Bro
Ang star ng pasko!
Kung kailan pinakamadilim
Ang mga tala ay mas nagniningning
Gaano man kakapal ang ulap
Sa likod nito ay may liwanag

Ang liwanag na ito
Nasa 'ting lahat
Mas sinag ang bawat pusong bukas
Sa init ng mga yakap
Maghihilom ang lahat ng sugat

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Tayo ang ilaw sa madilim na daan
Pagkakapit bisig ngayon higpitan
Dumaan man sa malakas na alon
Lahat tayo's makakaahon

Ang liwanag na ito
Nasa 'ting lahat
Mas sinag ang bawat pusong bukas
Sa init ng mga yakap
Maghihilom ang lahat ng sugat

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Kikislap ang pag-asa
Kahit kanino man
Dahil ikaw Bro, dahil ikaw Bro
Dahil ikaw Bro
Ang star ng pasko

Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Ang nagsindi nitong ilaw
Walang iba kundi ikaw
Salamat sa liwanag mo
Muling magkakakulay ang pasko

Dahil ikaw Bro, dahil ikaw Bro
Dahil ikaw Bro
Ang star ng pasko!

happy birthday, Jesus!

2009-12-25T00:06:00.002+08:00

Wow! It's Christmas! Lord, Happy Birthday to You! I really thank You for giving up your thrown in heaven just to blend with us, to save us from our sins. You definitely showed us that Love transcends all things! Thank You very much. With that, we are loving You back, commemorating Your selfless act. We greet You a very happy birthday .

my Christmas (most probably)

2009-11-09T21:58:00.002+08:00

I know, Christmas is approaching. I've been seeing it in television because and in houses where some have already been decorated and I've been hearing Christmas songs being played in the air waves. Even the climate is telling me that Christmas is already approaching as the cool breeze of air touches my whole body as the night approaches. There is just one thing that bothers me. When I watched a variety show this lunch time, there was this contestant that was asked by the hosts what is Christmas for her. She answered, "Ung magkakasama kami ng pamilya ko," and the whole crowd and the hosts clapped as if agreeing to her, and it sadden me. Now that my two sisters have gone to Abu Dhabi to work, basing what the contestant said, will there be no Christmas for my parents and me? :|

This will be, for me, the saddest Christmas yet for my two sisters are not here to celebrate the happiest season with us. Whenever this idea passes through my mind, I can't help but cry, cry as if my eyes are the source of the water for the rain. We all became closer, I think, after a confrontation occurred between me and my oldest sister. I start to love them more after the amends on the conflict. The relationship among us siblings grew stronger as well as the family bond. I miss them so badly! The nagging of my sisters to me, the little favors I do for them, the laughs we share together, the whispering of gossips and, most especially, the time when we go to church every Sunday together. Damn! I so miss them! But there is nothing I can do as of now but to hold on to the memories we shared together. I pray for them, for their safety. I know that God's is always watching them. I hope that time will be much faster so that we can all be together, again so that we can celebrate Christmas together!

Christmas for me isn't just being with my family, friends, my partner, having gifts, or not having new clothes jeans, cell phone and other ephemeral things. It's celebrating it with a heart that's loving the reason of having Christmas, Jesus Christ. In Christ, I feel complete, His love fills my heart with happiness as I continue to worship Him with all of me.

one thing

2009-11-06T22:48:00.005+08:00

There is this one thing I really miss doing. When I was in my high school, sophomore to senior years, I used to do it, more often than not and if I was given a chance. As I went to college, there were few opportunities to grasp in able to do the thing I miss doing. Until now, my body longing for it. I really miss performing. I miss dancing.

Whew! You don't know how I badly want to perform and dance again. Going back to my high school, I with my friends joined every dance contest there was in school, cheering competitions, the real dance competitions in our school, presentations, even there is a need of intermission number! Name it! Hahaha. I was indeed a very active student back then. Well, besides that I really love doing it, I need to have some extra curricular activity for my honor thing (unluckily, I was not part of the honorable mentions! LOL). Anyways, I miss the feeling of performing in front of so many people. The feeling that you can show them that you really got some dancing skills, the smile I make when I perform, the cheering of the crowd, the feeling you get from all those things. Whoop! Not to mention of the feeling of winning and being praised by those whom you don't know. Aaarrgggghh! I so miss it.

In my college, I only performed very seldom. Presentation for Thinkers EEC and Induction, mini-cheering competitions in Mapua-IEEE. Yeah. That's why I am willing to teach little steps in mini-cheering competitions even though I'm not an applicant of IEEE anymore. Hahaha. I just love dancing, that's all.

Now that I am not privileged to showcase my dancing prowess, hahahaha! Call me lunatic, crazy, anything! I dance even in our house! Of course when I'm alone! I'm not that freak, you know! Even before getting to sleep, I fantasize of performing in ASAP! I don't what I'm thinking! LOL. Maybe it's one of my ways to channel my longing for dancing. If I was given a chance anything related to dancing, hell I'll grab that chance! ^^

How about you, what do miss doin'?

understanding & forgiving, emancipation, life

2009-11-01T12:09:00.016+08:00

I was SCAMMED in Friends For Sale, not only ONCE but TWICE! Almost 1B of my money from that application was taken from me by two persons whom I don't know, who took advantage of my ability to give so much trust to people. I was mad, freaked out, cursed them.

I went to church just this morning. As I sing praise and worship songs, which happen that those were the songs I really like, in an instant I realized so many things regarding my FFS.

UNDERSTANDING and FORGIVING

Those people who scammed me reasoned out that they too were scammed by other people. In order to get their money back, they have to scam back. One of those said (quoting):

"hi.. sorry.. but i was scammed by a Guy.. Named Mesho.. but theres nothing i could to but to SCAMMED BACK.. sorry :(

"HOPE u understand my friend EDDIE.. sometimes we NEED to be CRUEL in order to be KIND.. BAD people can make us DO BAD THINGS.. sorry for the Guy who i just scammed.. its just that.. i got scammed.. and its part of the game.. sorry :)"

I know he's a little bit unreasonable. The equation BAD+BAD=KIND is unequal not to mathematics but to all who love and hate math. When I was first scammed, my mind never suggested to me, not even a bit, to scam others in order to regain what was stolen from me. I was mad, I freaked out, I cursed them. WAS.

Understand - that's the first thing that came to me. Even though it had been difficult for me, I must understand. God wants me to. I know, before I can forgive other people, I must understand them. True, isn't? I freaked out because, at first I didn't understand. But when I tried, that out of madness also, they scammed others, me, I feel that I can forgive them. Now, I did. I forgive them, without any other conviction and hesitation, I forgive them =) In return, please forgive me for the things I have done. Sorry.

EMANCIPATION

Nothing. I just realized how I become such a slave by facebook that I really got really affected by this incident. I know. I reacted much with such pathetic application. I AM A FACEBOOK ADDICT. Hell yeah I admit! And yeah I'm pathetic! Facebook has takin' over my studies, time, sleeping habit, my life! :(

In order for me to avoid more problems caused by this addiction, I'll try to lessen (no, I'LL LESSEN) my facebook-hours. Until I can have a life independent of this site. Please pray for me. I'm the chef, pilot, farmer of my own life!

LIFE

SCAM. Though that was just a game, I thought, "If they can do this in a game, there is a probability that they can do it in real life," am I right? yeah. I mean, they're mind were corrupted that they thought of taking advantage of others. There will come a point that they have to do it because others had done it to them. Same principle, right? The difference? It'll be, in any form, more painful, wouldn't it? That's cruelty. That's life. I still can't imagine my life when I step out of my college. One thing must be done, I must equip my self well. Build my beliefs, my principle, my faith. :)

A simple experience made me realize so many things! I hope you too were able to grasp what I conveyed.

what will it be for me?

2009-10-07T13:09:00.006+08:00

I just don't know what my life will be for the next years. I just don't know.

At the moment, I am having my internship in Trend Micro here in the Philippines. Something sadden me when I heard something that the employees there were discussing.

I was downloading files from a certain site when my sense of hearing caught me and diverted my attention to listen to what the employees have been talking about. I didn't actually understood what they were conveying but I'm sure it was work related. My mood became gloomy when an employee asked to his friend how old he was. "26!" he said. I wondered why hasn't he had a family yet? Actually, that was a dumb question for me. Why? Because the one who was asked with his age is gay.

The Law here in the Philippines does not permit gay marriage, and so is our nation. It is unacceptable, to their eyes, especially to God's. Some people disgust these gay people, don't they. How more is man-to-man relationship? I am gay, so what is it for me as I grow older?

It sadden me, really to think about my situation for the next years. I am not saying that no one will love me, just for once, for the rest of my life. But when you have that someone whom you will be walking down the isle and whom you'll share everything to you, it's like you partner saying you, "I'll be with you. 'Till death do as apart." Will I have like that someone that will also share his life with me, until we die? This was the only time I thought about this 'coz for the past years I realized I like being gay, I am happy. Not because of being gay but having people that always make me realize that being like this is not the basis of happiness. That it is always myself to make it, to choose happiness. I haven't had any gay relationship. I don't know why. I am still puzzled and I don't care. I am still happy now even though there is a little part in my heart that is longing for sharing a different kind of love to another. But I am totally of aware that as I continue living my life, this little longing part of my heart will continue to get bigger until finally it meets its someone, or worse eat my whole heart.

I don't know, I really don't. I want to be cared and be loved. Who will that 'someone' be? =(

my comfort song, what's yours?

2009-09-25T18:27:00.008+08:00

I've been depressed for so long now because of all the school works and the pressure from it. Really, BIG TIME! Whenever I can't contain all these things, hate to admit, I just simply cry. Cry all the pain from inside, at least to get rid even just a little of this pain. After I do the crying, there's just one thing I really wanted to do - to listen. Feel the stillness of everything and listen to anything that my ears will hear; the chirping of birds, sound of raindrops dropping from the gutter, the sound of the leaves as they are being blown by wind. Simple things that make me relax, feel a little better. But one thing that never fails to give me the true rest when all troubles seem to overtook me is listening to my comfort songs, Christian songs.

Though there are so many contemporary music that I can really relate to, Christian songs still give a different impact. This is solely because the theme is about God. I am a true believer. I continue to love him because of the blessings He continue to give me; safety of my beloved family and having real friends I can rely on, and I can't imagine my life without Him in my life. I love him. So, everytime I listen to those kinds of songs, I remember God and his promises to His children, to us.

"Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

God keeps on reminding me of this word of His as I play Christian songs. As I listen to it, I find my rest as I have realized that God will always be there to understand and to comfort me. When I feel hopeless, He will make a way where there seems to be no way. He is my hope, my refuge and my strength when all seem to fail. Messages conveyed from these Christian songs are much stronger when you sing it, as if the song becomes your prayer. You praise God through music and talk to Him through your heart. Singing these will unveil what your heart really desires and God will see it. As what the saying goes, "Let your heart do the talking." Whenever I do this, I give everything to God. I let Him take care of everything, everything. This puts me to rest, give me comfort.

Now you know what is one of the things that still keeps me moving, keeping me on my feet on the middle of trouble.

death: are you ready?

2009-09-18T17:15:00.042+08:00

I'll tell you a sad story I had experience few months ago.

When I, with my highschool friends, was watching a movie in a mall in Makati, I received a text message coming from my mom. My mood changed from excited to sad and began to get worried. According to my mom, her mother died that morning. My grandmother died. The one who took care of us when we were in our province (Pangasinan). As the movie continues to play, my mind also continues to reminisce the experiences I had in our province, those memories when my grandmother was still alive. I went home immediately after the movie to see my mother. I went to our terrace to find her lying on the floor with my dad (that's where they usually sleep when the climate gets hot). I don't know how to console her. I know she cried a lot from the sound of her voice. Just so you know, each family member of mine isn't showy when it comes to strong emotion as such. Feeling awkward to console, I just asked her when will we go back to our province for her mother's burial. From the conversation we had, I can tell how she 's trying to keep on her feet, trying to look that she's strong.

Even though I had problems with my on-the-job training, my dad and I were still able to go to Pangasinan (my mother immediately went there a day after she heard the news). She was the one who waited for us in the bus terminal in our province. She looked very tired but very happy to see me and my dad. I wasn't talking when we had our way to our grandparent's house where the body of my grandmother laid. It was only dad who kept asking how were things going. If I talk that time, I'll cry, I knew it.

When we reached our grandparents' house, I immediately went to see her. She looked the same when I last saw her, besides the fact that she really wore that very white make up. All seem to be normal (of course except the feeling of loss). Every relative asked me how I was, which is a usual thing for us Filipinos to do when one didn't see another for a long time. Staying there was like filling my heart my memories. Things will never be the same again without my grandmother when I go to that place, which made me really sad. But seeing my relatives, on my mother side, reunite puts a little happiness in my heart. I know my mother missed those people. I was introduced to a lot of relatives, some of which my mother told me took care of me when I was still a toddler. Though felt awkward, I had conversation with these relatives of mine. Each of them has a story to tell about my grandmother which made me miss her more.

When the night fell, a church service was conducted in front of the house. I wanted to see the service but the sermon was spoken in different language. To pay respect for the pastor who was presiding the service and for my grandmother, I 'listened' to his sermon. After this, a band came. My mom told me that the band was included on the burial service they availed. At first, sad songs were played, maybe a little respect for the dead. After few songs, they sang a lot more lively songs. I told myself, this will keep me awake until morning. I planned to stay until morning, a little sacrifice for my grandmother before she will be carried to the cemetery, but I failed. Indeed, a sleepyhead.

Morning came, I felt that the atmosphere was very gloomy. People around me weren't speaking that much. I also felt it, the sadness after realizing that this will be the day that my grandmother will be buried. I took my bath and prepared to walk my grandmother to cemetery with my parents and relatives. The staff from the burial service came, fixing those that should be. I heard one of my aunts scream, crying. I didn't want to go inside the house. I'll cry if I do. I don't want to cry. My uncle also screamed. The emotions inside the house were all so nerve racking., with all the whining. My mother was also inside. She didn't scream. When the staff brought out the coffin, my aunts and uncles, including my mother followed my grandmother. I seldom see my mother cry, compared to my father. But at the moment I saw her there, following my grandma's coffin, she looked like she cried a drum of tears. The picture of that made my heart break, until now. I don't know how is it like to loose a mother but I feel her, at that moment. The pastor from yesterday gave a short message. When he finished his sermon, most people came to my gradma's coffin to see her, a last look. Most people now were crying, my other aunts, cousins, nieces, my grandma's friends and others who were so close to my grandmother. I wore my shades, I am about to cry at the moment. Then the burial director gave her staff a signal to bring the coffin inside the vehicle. My uncle continued to whine for his mother. As soon as the body was inside the vehicle, songs were played, Christian songs. When I heard these songs (I forgot the title, I remembered one, 'Magnificent' by Hillsong), my tears began to make its way in my eyes. It's too early, not now, I told myself. "It will be a long way", my mother said to my dad and to me. "No matter how long the way is, I'll be on your side, mom and grandma" I told myself.

The climate was definitely hot and the way was so long! Yet, I walked with my parents stayed beside the vehicle where my grandma rests. But it was unbearable! The heat! So, all of us decided to ride a tricycle going to the cemetery. I was always beside my mother all the time.

On the cemetery, my aunties asked to remove the lid of the coffin to see my grandmother for the last time. When the staff did, tears began to drop almost from everyone's eyes, but not mine. That's before my mother started to cry again.

It was my first time see her on that state, whining! I never heard my mom whine like that! Damn! Both hands of hers were touching the face of my grandma, as if telling her mother , "I love you! I love you! I love you!" I felt it. I can't help it. I cried, cried like the first hurting I had when I was in highschool. I grabbed her hand, gently taking them off from the face of her mom, as if telling her, "Mom, it's time for you to let go, let go of grandma. I'm here, I won't leave you. I love you!" I gave her a hug. It was my first time to give her a hug like, grabbing her hands and locking her face on mine, telling her that I won't leave her that I will stay by her side no matter what. Hugging my mother made me asked my self, if she would die, will I be ready?

NO! I know I can't! Thinking of that makes my heart break into pieces. I love my mom, my dad, my sisters! I'm not ready! No one will. All I know is that when that time comes, I'll cry cry and cry! As time goes by, little by little, I will have to accept the loss in able for me to move on with my life. When that day comes, I'll kling to God. Nothing is permanent in this world aside from God's love (Psalm 136:26),

Continue to show your love to all people you value, especially to your family. So that when God is taking that important person of yours back, pain will be less and you have nothing to regret. Always remember, everything has its purpose, even death. Always remember John 3:16.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF FELIPA SEMBRAN MENDOZA

miss this!

2009-09-18T17:05:00.001+08:00

it's been a while since I posted a blog, and I miss this! please watch out for my newest entry, coming in a few more days. LOL

fate vs will

2009-07-05T13:15:00.003+08:00

It was last night that I saw a gist of, maybe, the cruelty of life. I was walking inside this "Park and Ride", a public place where public utility vehicles usually park theirs and noticed this guy, standing; he's around 25 years old and was looking steadily at something. When I came to cross this person and looked what he was looking, I saw what he was staring at. It was a menu. He was standing in front of a little, cheap (just an adjective) public restaurant. I said to myself; "This guy must really be hungry." As I go to ride a bus going home, passing through more little restaurants, I noticed that the same guy was now in front of me. He was looking around for more restaurants, on their menu. I also looked on their menu. They were all offering food that’s really inexpensive. As I continue to observe him, I noticed that he just passed the restaurant where a meal costs around 45php (less than a dollar) and still looked for other place to eat. For a restaurant offering food with that cheap amount, did he not consider it where he can sit and eat? Maybe yes, or maybe not. Maybe he was being thrifty because of the economic crisis we have right now. From that point, I came to realize how lucky I am. I can buy my food that can cost around 150php (3 dollars), go shopping whenever I wanted, etc. How about that guy? Does he still have some money where he can buy a new pair of jeans? Shoes? shirts?

I was thinking of many possibilities. Maybe, his family was not that wealthy, or something disastrous happened to them that made them less fortunate, or maybe they were bankrupt because of something. Maybe, his parents are unemployed, and do not have any plans in searching for one, or he was just lazy studying during his school days that he never finished his studies, or I don’t know. After realizing this, I asked myself, is he just a victim of fate? Or it is just his fault why he is in that condition? I don’t know.

I also had some unfortunate event that I will never forget. At first, I thought it was someone else’s fault. I pointed the blame on others. I always do. I cried a lot and hate a lot of people. As I grew older, when I looked back from those times, I also thought that it was also my fault why it happened to me. I tried to fixed things up and I did, we all did. After that, I reached a sound mind and a sound heart. I was really happy.

The thing is, it’s inevitable. That bad fate we can get from living in this world. Whenever we experience something like this, the first instinct is to blame it to something or someone. We always say, “You have a bad luck.” Is that really the reason why we experience these kinds of things? Do we really have to point our fingers to our fate? That we’re destined to be in that position? Only a part of it is true. We decide for ourselves and these decisions affect others. It is our will that put us all in our position, and no one else, nothing else. Let us all try to think first of the effect of our action before we do it. We are not entitled to do something that can hurt others, that’s a natural law. And if we are a victim of some really bad circumstances, do we have to remain on that position? Or we can stand up and try to make it a little better?

We may all encounter some bad fate as we go on with our lives. But our will to work on these things make us live a better, fulfilling life.

never hurt a friend! :(

2009-07-02T00:42:00.002+08:00

That's what I learned today. Even if she pisses you, she doesn't deserve to be hurt. All you have to do is calm yourself and forgive, try to turn things out a little better not only for her, but also for your sake. Now, me and my friend were both hurt on what I did to her and I am really sorry for that. :( I feel bad for hurting my friend. I'm sorry.

again

2009-06-29T02:18:00.000+08:00

I feel weak. I need strength. Lord, please help me T.T

No Directions

2009-06-24T10:53:00.011+08:00

"The supreme accomplishment is to blur the line between work and play." -Arnold J. Toynbe

It's been two months, or maybe when the day I stopped becoming one, since I become an officer of the Mapua-IEEE, my beloved organization. Since the day that I resigned or whatever, though changes are inevitable, it never occurred to me that it will result to this.

As what the title of my blog says, I have no directions! I think that this is the effect of not being involved in the organization as an officer anymore. When I started to become an officer, serving as an Assistant CoE Coordinator in the Research and Development Committee and later as the Research Coordinator of the same committee, I was eager to do things that concern the organization. I attended every committee and general meetings as much as I could (though I missed a couple because of some reasons), I prepared the form for one of the seminars and some minutes and assessments that my boss, Arjie and Ching told me to do, did all the pre parations for the Project Design Competition (the event being held by the Mapua-IEEE organized by the RnD Committee), etc while performing well with my studies. I did all of those eagerly and whole-heartedly because I love this organization. When I resigned in my post and not accepted the offer to become the head of the committee I belong, I think that was the time I started to become "wasted".

I don't want to elaborate more of this me being wasted. Some people might get angry when they read this blog if I elaborate it. The thing is, in terms of my academic studies, comparing it to my previous performances, I poorly do my works now. I focus myself more of playing Restaurant City in Facebook, digging in Digg, etc instead of doing my paper works. D*mn! Pity. LOL. More or less, this is the effect of me resigning. Mapua-IEEE has done so much in my stay in Mapua. It thought me the PILER (Professionalism, Integrity, Leadership, Espri de Corps, Remuneration). I know it is wrong to act, or in any form, blame anything. I know the way I act right now is wrong. I realize that. Actually, I try to regain my self again. I hope it won't last long. I have to be at my best. I'm about to graduate now. I MUST BE AT MY BEST! :(

You Never Learned, You Mother Fcking Assh*le!

2009-06-21T10:44:00.005+08:00

I can't this anymore! I don't think I had the problem when we were in our High School days! I think it is you, Edward! (magalit na gustong magalit pero i-bo-blog ko pa rin 'to!)

I heard so many stories of you and your not-moving-on thing and unfaithfulness. Yeah. First story was when we had our HS reunion. You never came there. We wondered why until Mario saw your text message to my friend Marriane, who happens to be your girlfriend, saying something like she's with us in an out-most disgust to us, including your closest friends, the boys! For me, that was really pissing. What more with the side of the boys, right??? I don't know what to say on how he has reciprocated every time my friends and I are with his girlfriend. Take note of this, he's being jealous with one of his used-to-be closest friend, Joshua. For what reason?? I really don't get you! We already settled everything when we had our retreat, right?? How come you still had some bitterness towards us?

Second, still in our HS reunion is the sex thing when we were in our junior years in HS. F*ck you! You used to be mad to me (I think until know) being so close to your girl and the hugging thing that made my HS days the worst days of my life. Then, I heard from the boys that Catherine (one of our classmates in HS), gave you a bj while you and my FRIEND Marriane are together??? Crap! What the hell was that???? I don't get you, boys! You are being jealous of other people while you are doing something that will not only make girls hurt but also make the relationship rotten, and eventually be broken. Marriane still doesn't know about this, be thankful! As*h*le!

Lastly, the girl on your school. You were flirting with her knowing that you were with my other friends, Dheziree and Jeena! That really great! I applaud you for being a true freaking pain in the a*s! Marriane never cried when she heard this, she told us she had enough of the crying and she better talk to Edward regarding the issue. I pity my girl friend. She's doing everything to make the relationship work, but you are giving her reasons to end what the both of you have right now. I advised her that she should get rid of you. An unfaithful person will always be unfaithful for the rest of his life.

Between the two of us, undeniably you were the more 'immature', together with your little devils sitting on your shoulders. You better drag yourself to hell!

that's the way is it

2009-05-24T19:36:00.005+08:00

This song is one of those that continue to inspire me to move forward.

For me, love will always be with us, anytime, anywhere. We just don't see it 'coz we are blinded on what we want to see. Most of the time, we are focused on what we like to get that we do not appreciate things that truly make us happy.

How about your family? When was the last time you said that you love them? Ok. Maybe you'll reason action speaks louder than words. I'll change the question. Ask yourself, "Have I really shown my family how I love them?" Simple thank you's and do the things that give simple happiness to them will mean a lot. Presence also means everything to them. Why am I saying this? They will always be there with you all the time. They won't let you down. Comfort you when you're hurt. Leture you when you need it. Acompany you when you're alone. They're everything you could wish for. They will always show us the definition of unconditional love. Let's appreciate them more.

Friends, your family outside the house. They know all of your secrets, know most of your feelings, make you laugh hard when all comes to disaster, take away pain in the sweetest ways, knock you on the head when you're being stupid, they can be everything to you. So, never take them for granted. Let's appreciate the things they're doing for us.

The all-we-know-love, lovers thing, dunno what to say 'coz haven't had any. hehe

To summarize, love will always be there, in any form, in anyway. Love will always find you. Appreciate it! ;)

Something that fills-in

I needed that

2009-05-17T00:43:00.004+08:00

Worst consultation ever! Grabe! Pinagtuunan ko ng pansin ung pagrerevise ng Chapter 1 ng documentation para sa design namin buong hapon. Kasama ko si Shid sa GS na nagrerevise! Sobrang isip ako kung ano ba ang dapat ilagay sa bawat parts. Kahit na sobrang antok na ko kakagawa ng Software Design namin, isip pa rin ako ng mga ilalagay sa documentation.

Design 2 na namin. Confident ako na maguiging maayos ang aming Chaper 1 sa sobrang pag-iisip namin ni Shid sa mga ilalagay namin dun. Hindi ko inexpect ang nangyari. NASABON KAMI! Grabe! Sobrang nakakaiyak yung mga sinasabi niya. I-relevant nga naman yung mga pinaglalagay ko dun sa paper namin. May iba pang kelangan suplyan ng tamang data na hindi nakalagay sa paper namin. Huhu. Parang umitkot ang buong araw ko kakagawa ng paper na yun tapos nasabon lang kami. Tama naman lahat ng sinabi ni sir. Kaya nga medyo masakit para sa akin. Down ako ng buong hapon na yun. Tinignan ko yung paper ni Edmund na walang comment si sir. Straight to the point sila at nakalagay lang dun sa paper nila yung mga related sa design nila. Galing.... ni Allan! Haha! chalk lang! lol.

Ayun, down na nga ako! Kaya dali dali akong umalis ng school para pumunta sa birthday celebration ng aking bff na si Dheziree! Nakita ko siya kasama ng aking iba pang matatalik na kaibigan! I was really really happy to see them. Noong nakita ko sila, naging maayos na ang mood ko. Sobra. Sila lang ang nagpapasaya sa akin ng ganito. Nakakalimutan ko ang lahat ng problema ko kapag kasama ko sila. Maiihalintulad sa pag-inum ng alak pero walang tama. Saya lang ang dulot nito at walang hilo! haha.

Kaya naman sinamantala ko na yung time na kasama ko sila. Nakipag minggle ako kay Gelo. Tawa ng tawa. Patawa si Micah. Tawa tawa. Si Eidelle hindi makakalagpas ng SM Bacoor kasi nahihilo agad. Tawa tawa. Kapag nasa coastal road na siya, amy multa na siya kasi wala na siya sa Bacoor. Tawa tawa. Porma ni Cherry sa pics! Weeee. Ang mga sex stories nung ibang mga babae dun, medyo nkakawindang peru medyo sanay na sa ganun. Haha. Ang saya talaga kapag kasama ko sila! Salamat sa birthday celebration ni Dhez at nagsamasama ulit kami. Limot ang problema, may ngiti oang kasama!

Happy Bday Jejery (Dhez) (^^,) mwah!

I happen to miss Someone ;(

2009-05-11T22:47:00.004+08:00

Hmmm.. How will I start this blog? Well, here it goes. I really miss this person.

.The person I used to talk to when craziness envelopes my mind. The one that makes it crazier and we laugh our heart out, thinking those things.

.The person I used to talk to when I need to know some nose-bleeding terms. The one that is equipped with knowledge of almost everything. I say this person is a walking encyclopedia, like Kyle in Kyle XY (lol).

.The person that always feeds me with more information. The one who tells FYIs. I've learned so many things from this person. Knows almost everything!

.The person I used to talk to when I need to have a good conversation. Never fails on giving me nice talks.

.The person that gives me a hard laugh when I need one. Makes me forget the things I worry even for a short time.

I really miss this person. But I think this person doesn't feel the same way T.T Can't blame that one. I think I offended that person one way or another from what I did (which is by the way fooling them). When I did that, the friendship never came back and I am still afraid of talking to this person. I really am.

Sorry if I offended you. Hope you can forgive me if you were hurt. I was too, you know. But you're already forgiven. I hope fate will make us friends again. I'll be looking forward on that day. And when that day comes, I'll never give any reason to hate me! ;)

I miss you!

Happy Mother's Day to all Moms!

2009-05-10T20:12:00.004+08:00

I want to share a very nice Bible verse to all of you.

Proverbs 31:10-31

A worthy woman who can find? For her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband trusteth in her, And he shall have no lack of gain. She doeth him good and not evil All the days of her life. She seeketh wool and flax, And worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchant-ships; She bringeth her bread from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, And giveth food to her household, And their task to her maidens. She considereth a field, and buyeth it; With the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard. She girdeth her loins with strength, And maketh strong her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is profitable: Her lamp goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the distaff, And her hands hold the spindle. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; Yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household; For all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh for herself carpets of tapestry; Her clothing is fine linen and purple. Her husband is known in the gates, When he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh linen garments and selleth them, And delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and dignity are her clothing; And she laugheth at the time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; And the law of kindness is on her tongue. She looketh well to the ways of her household, And eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children rise up, and call her blessed; Her husband [also], and he praiseth her, [saying]: Many daughters have done worthily, But thou excellest them all. Grace is deceitful, and beauty is vain; [But] a woman that feareth Jehovah, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; And let her works praise her in the gates.

Love of a Mother to her child is always tantamount to unconditional love. Well, it has always been like that. Jesus always bless all mothers who play their role to her family.

Today, while we were in church, I did what I don''t usually do. I gave my mom a big big hug and told her Happy Mother's day and utter silently that I love her. I don't know if she heard me. But, it felt all good. Haha. Really.I am blessed for having a mother like my mom. She's perfect and will always be. I love my mom!

And to all mothers out there, I greet yall a happy mothers day! *hugs* ;)

welcome me! =p

2009-05-10T19:52:00.000+08:00

Nice! Alas, I have my own blog site. Happy to be here. I will be using this site to allow everyone to know what I have in mind. I'll share to the whole world what Prince has got to say. Brace yourselves, guys! lol (^^,)