Posts Tagged With: strength

Marahil Mahalaga Ka

Hindi isang routine ang buhay. Kung labag sa loob mo ang linyang kasasabi ko lang, baka nga nabubuhay ka sa routine; pero hindi pa rin ito ang buhay. Pakiramdam ko kasi’y walang halaga ang paulit-ulit at nakakasawang sistema. Kaya nga siguro maraming nalilito maging iyong mga kabilang sa masang sumisigaw ng pagbabago.

Hindi nawawala ang pagbabago. Patuloy ito sa pagpuksa ng nakakairitang plaka na tila ba isinusumbat sa’yo na hindi ka makaintindi. Kahit na maintindihan mo, iiwan ka rin naman ng lumang istilong tinangay ng panahon. Lahat naman kasi ay pansamantala. Walang forever ba ang nasa utak mo? Tigilan mo ako.

Hindi nakukulong sa ilang pahinang depinisyon ang salitang maaaring bitiwan ng isang tao. Ang punto ko lang naman, bakit pa kailangang pag-aksayahan ng oras ang mga bagay na hindi naman pala sigurado? Oo punto ang tawag sa pangungusap na ‘yan bagamat nagtapos sa tandang-pananong. Ayoko naman na sagutin mo ako ng hinulaan mong parirala o ‘di kaya’y ninakaw na talata mula sa katha ng iba. Ang gusto ko ay unawain mo.

Unawain mong hangga’t may pagbabago ay may pagkakaiba. Unawain mong ikaw ay hindi tulad nila. Unawain mong ikaw ay may kakaibang hina at sigla. Ikaw ay may sariling halaga.

What completes me, breaks me in the process sabi ko. Paano? Alam ko kasing hindi madali na gumising na lang isang araw na okay ang lahat. Walang okay lang, sarkastiko. Nangangarap tayo. Ang pangarap kasi ay hindi lugar na magagawa mong pasyalan kung kailan mo gusto. Hindi ito laruan na itatapon mo sa nilalangaw na tambak ng basura kapag pinagsawaan. Ito ay paglalakbay. Nariyan na tamarin kang lumakad sa kung anumang dahilan. Nariyan na ma-excite ka, tumakbo, ayun nadapa. Nariyan na sasabihin mong ayaw ko na pero ang kailangan mo lang pala ay ang magpahinga. Mabuti nga at nabigyan ka ng pagkakataong magkaroon ng sarili mong lakbay. Nakakahiya naman sa ibang nilumpo ng nanggigipit na kalupitang kaakibat ng buhay. Itong hiya na ito ang nagpakapal ng mukha ko. Ang kahinaan ng iba ang ginawa kong sigla. Tila ba itinuring kong makina ang aking sarili upang magtrabaho hindi para sa sarili kong kapakanan; kundi para sa ikabubuti ng nakararami. Corny? Bahala ka. Para sa akin, isa itong sentimental na pangakong kailanman ay hindi ko iwawaksi. Kaya nga ganito ko na lang ipahayag kung gaano ako nasasaktan habang binabaybay ang peligrosong daan tungo sa kinabukasang siguro naman ay may hitik na bunga ng ating pinagsisikapang ipunla.

Madami akong isyu sa buhay. Halos lahat ng detalye ay iniintindi ko hangga’t mamaya, wala na pala akong oras para intindihin naman ang sarili. Alam kong ito’y mali. Anong klaseng pagpapahalaga ba ang maibibigay ng isang tao kung wala siya nito? Hayaan mong hanapin ko ang sagot mula sa mabangis na mundong kinabibilangan ng aking anino. Nakalahad ang palad ng naghihikahos na pulubing hindi mo alam kung kailan pa huling nagkaroon ng laman ang tiyan. Nakatulala ang manggagawang lugmok sa trabaho umulan man o umaraw na nadaya na pala sa kwentahan ng sahod. Nakapanlalambot ang istorya nila at ng iba pang mga kasama… silang mga biktima ng pang-aabuso ng dayuhan o ng kapwa Pilipino. Hindi mabibilang ang mga mensaheng nais iparating ng mga kaganapang hindi malutas. Nasa loob pa pala tayo ng giyerang ginagamitan ng basyo ng balang tumupok na pala sa napakarami nating mga kawal. Anong silbi ng ipinaglalaban nating mga aktibista kung patuloy palang nagaganap ang iba’t ibang uri ng karahasan sa paligid? Isang routine na paulit-ulit tumatatak sa nakapaninibughong kasaysayan ng pinaghalong tamis at pait. Isyu ko pa rin na hindi tayo malaya.

Ikaw, na bumabasa nito, ay mahalaga. Pinili kita kaysa iba. Pinipili kita higit sa anumang luho. Pipiliin kita sa aking pag-iisa, sa tuwing ako ay may kasama, kapag ay ako ay pagod, kapag ako ay inaantok, kapag ako ay nalulungkot, kapag ako ay natutuksong itigil na tingnan kita bilang mahalaga.

Sumusulat ako hindi mula sa ideolohiyang ipinipilit sa akin. Sinusulatan kita dahil marahil mahalaga ka.

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Hanggang Sa Muli

Ito na marahil ang unang post na ginamitan ko ng diskursong Tagalog; ngunit hindi ito ang nag-iisang post na gagamitan ko ng puso. Gusto kong maiba naman ang atakeng aking gagamitin upang maipahayag ang bugso ng aking damdamin. Sumusulat tayo hindi dahil inutos, hindi dahil pinilit, at higit sa lahat… hindi dahil upang magmalaki.

Ako ay isang manunulat hindi lamang dahil ito ang napili kong trabaho, kundi dahil ito ang aking buhay.

Naaalala ko pa ang mga lumipas na taon kung kailan ko ginugol ang aking kabataan bilang isang indibidwal na sanay na mag-isa at nabubuhay nang hindi humihingi ng kahit anong panahon mula sa kanyang mga kasama. Masaya ako dahil akala ko ay malaya ako sa ganoong sistema. Sa pagdaan ng ilan pang mga kabanata, aking napagtanto na may kulang pala. Bagamat hindi sa aking pagkatao, may kulang pala.

Ano ba ang kulang? Gaano ito katimbang upang magdulot ng epekto sa akin? Hindi ko kayang sagutin. Ako ay namamangha sa kung paano nga ba pinahihintulutan ng pagkakataon ang bawat pagbabagong maaaring maganap sa loob ng pahinang bumubuo sa nobelang alam kong akin.

Noon, sumusulat ako sapagkat kaya kong gumuhit ng sariling mundo. Ngayon, pakiramdam ko’y unti-unting nagbabalik ang bawat teksto na aking nailarawan. Mayroong parte ng aking pagkatao ang natatakot sa posibilidad na magkakatotoo ang bawat detalye. Labis na nakabibighani ang pagsasakatuparan ng pangarap na dati’y binibigkas lamang. Natatakot ako. Natatakot ako sapagkat hindi ko akalaing ang daigdig na pinaliit ng aking imahinasyon ay isang bulgar na pelikulang nagdidiiin sa bawat eksenang makatotohanan.

Magulo. Tulad ng aking kwarto kapag hell week, tulad ng aking buhok sa tugatog ng mahanging bundok, tulad ng aking malikot na pag-iisip. Maingay, tulad ng pagtibok ng aking puso sa tuwing maririnig ang yapak ng papalapit na banta sa aking propesyong napili. Malungkot, tulad ng pinaghalong init at lamig na patuloy na uusig sa aking konsensya kung ako ba ay nagkaroon ng silbi sa araw man o sa gabi. Mapanlinlang, tulad ng mga markang akala ko ay papasa dahil sa puyat at pagod na inabot. Mapanghusga, tulad ng bintang na ibabato habang patuloy kong tinatanong sa sarili, “Sapat ba ito?” Alam kong hindi. Hindi, kailanman, ako naging kontento.

Lahat na yata ng sakripisyo ay aking naranasan makarating lang sa inaasam na paraiso. Mabilis. Matagal. Madaming tukso. Ang paglalakbay pala na ito ay hango sa postura ng impyerno. “Sige, ituloy mo”, ang palagi kong sinasambit. Imbis na magsawa, kailangan kong masanay. Malupit ang hagupit ng bawat latigong katumbas ng pagkatalo. Mabangis ang mga naghihiyawang boses, nakabibinging katahimikan, at nagpupumiglas na kaluluwang nais kumawala sa rehas na nagkukulong sa kung anuman ang sigaw ng karakter na binuhay ng nag-aalab na apoy ng pakikidigma.

Malalim. Ang pinaghulugan ng aking ipinaglalaban, ang mga salitang akala mo hindi maiintindihan, ang pares ng matang nakikiusap sa paglabas ng katotohanan, ang sugat na dulot ng digmaan, ang hukay na nag-aabang. Isang maling galaw at “patay ka!”.

Mayroon pa ba akong dapat katakutan? Nasindak nang paulit-ulit, isang ritmong sumusunod sa musika ng daigdig. Mayroon pa ba akong dapat pagdudahan? Nasilaw sa makulay na palabas, isa palang pagtatanghal ng masasayang payasong sa likod ng entablado’y may mga luhang nakalulunod. Mayroon pa ba akong dapat sukuan? Nasaktan ng matatalim na sandatang ibinabato ng hindi naman lubusang kilala… sino ba sila? Ano ang ginagampanan ng mga elementong ito upang magpadala na lang ang sinuman sa agos ng walang patutunguhan? Hindi dapat. Hindi dapat sagutin ang mga tanong na wala namang kwenta – walang kwenta sapagkat nakasuot sila ng maskara. Hindi pala talaga ako nagtatanong kundi umiiwas. Duwag! Walang silbi ang umiwas sa responsibilidad na dapat ay pinagsisikapang tuparin.

Walang tigil akong pumipindot sa pagtipa ng aking keyboard dahil umaasa akong may mararating ang artikulong sinimulan kong kausapin. Ayaw nitong matapos. Ayaw ko rin, ngunit kailangan na.

Kailangan ko ng bumangon mula sa lugmok na istilo ng pakikibaka. Hanggang dito na lang muna. Sana bukas ay may mapatunayan na.

Hanggang sa muli.

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A Virtuous Journey to Survive

Robert Zemeckis’ Flight is a sophisticated film envisioned beyond catalysts of jaw-dropping scenarios. Captain Whip Whitaker, as played by Denzel Washington, is a man of stunning skills in terms of operating a plane in the most incredible way enough to make the viewers shred off their nerves in front of the screen.

Perhaps the visualization of what has been happening along the story line, be it the script or the figures dynamism or the soundtrack or whatever it is that has immensely affected souls, it is truly a matter of significant message that these elements are trying to portray in order to increase people’s awareness of the concerns within the environment where they belong. Representation of issues such as the: probability of conducting a plane upside down, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcoholic beverages, involving in romantic affairs, engaging in drug addiction, putting across absolute morality in religion, and even living away from family- suggests that it takes one tough man to manage all these when in fact what stands as his strength actually rooted from the weaknesses that have been built inside of him.

Nobody could’ve landed that plane like I did: surely Whip is right upon saying this. But does it suffice as defense in the court hearing? Are his enormous abilities as a pilot considered to free him from the case? Of course not. No matter how excellent the person is, honor comes first. Perhaps he saved more lives than what is naturally expected, but is it justifiable not to judge him as guilty? He didn’t abide by the law that prohibits drug addiction. Was that really his fault?

As depicted, he was at first afraid of facing the consequences of the plane crash. He tried denying the facts that must be truthfully surrendered. But in the end, can he really capture the moments to come being a man of disgusting words despite his sky-rocketing (just like those planes he drives) designation? He could not take risk of his dignity. He chose to rise up by deciding to fall behind the metal bars that would imprison him from the world he used to live in. It is already given that he is an excellent man yet it takes guts to be honorable.

Knowledge prior to Physics might be well- appreciated due to highly- innovated graphics and dramatic effects; but what could possibly strike its viewers is sympathy. The story of Whip’s life can be unbearable. In spite of the struggles that blocked his path, just like the technical difficulties in a plane, he insists to survive- or at least he tries to… for a lesser pain of impact.

This essay, the essay that I have to write, it’s called, “The Most Fascinating Person That I’ve Never Met.”– says Will. Okay.- says Whip. So [Will turns on his tape recorder] and asks, Who are you?. Whip responds That’s a good question…

And that way, is how one’s self finds honor above excellence… Stay dignified against all odds.

Categories: Reflection | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Faith that is Not Tested, is Not Faith At All

While the downpour of rain was heavy all day long last Saturday, I was able to grab my chance of clinging into my academic obligations. I did not fail, somehow, to comply with my to-do-list. Perhaps the weather was really gloomy and not everything inside our house had fallen in its proper place, I still tried to manage my schedule and my mood. That’s right; to manage myself and the actions I would take has always been necessary for a harmonious living- well, at least from my viewpoint.

Some readings I was trying to study that day is about the orientation towards being… something is about existentialism provided that the writer itself has this perspective saying Not that we believe that God does not exist, but we think that the problem of his existence is not the issue, and the other literary piece has been talking about this creatively ambiguous but witty format of what the persona aims to express; but justifiably, I got the gist of the articles I have read. Anyway, it’s all about how we’re to interpret the given symbolic entities which meanings invariably depend to our intellectual capacity and background. It’s up to me, actually, upon whose way of thinking I am made-up to affirm or deny, right?

We all know that in Philosophy, two major groups of people pave its path through the broadness and deepness of discussions- Christians and Atheists. I surely belong to the first one. I just can’t imagine how I was able to deal with the articles wherein atheistic viewpoints are technically considered. Each time I had to support my own ideology and never falter to what I have believed for more than a decade. I told myself that open-mindedness is not a bad thing at all. Essentially, it’s quite a brilliant means to transcend into reality without having to seem too arrogant, ignorant, conceited, and rude. Having an open mind to things doesn’t mean inability to decide for one’s self but maturity to cultivate the values that can eventually lead us to excellence and a better understanding of the world.

Last Friday night, when I am alone in our house and the storm was on its rage, I recorded my voice. This recording lasts exactly up to one minute as it plays. It is supposed to be an alarm which will of course motivate me to get up. Considering its inventive script and a bit proficient tone that speak in straight English, I honestly regarded this habit as some sort of fun. I’d have to adjust the volume to minimum so as not to frantically disturb others; though it’s fine if they’re interested in it.

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(Photo of me in Paoay Church, Ilocos Norte during our historical tour;

but Our Lady of the Atonement Cathedral is where I constantly go every Sunday)

Today is Sunday, the start of the week, when I’ve written this. I truly deem that waking up early contributes to man’s productivity and success. So it’s a deal for me to start a day or even a week right enough to make me feel so guilty if ever I do not keep hold of consistency. I am persistent about my dreams, and this blog of mine can attest to that.

Going to church becomes the fundamental system running throughout my character. I’m not the person whom anyone can convince not to go out for mass attendance, especially since when I have started my routine here in the City of Pines. It is a breath of fresh air, a lift of soul, a beat of heart, and clarity of mind- for me as a being. Tell-me-you-can’t-go-but-don’t-tell-me-I-can’t type of attitude is what I got.

Before I could stand under a shed to wait for PUJs, I passed through rustling winds and flooded streets; but still, I could feel the banality of what I am doing. Excitement is expected of me as I fulfill what I want, what I need. There’s this vehicle that stopped in front of me. An old man got off. He is familiar; I always see him on his way to church. He’s passionate about it and I can thoroughly confirm the verity of his faith. Perhaps he’s not too normal (I guess he’s ill due to age-related sickness) and I just can’t say what it is that bothers him. I just know he needs someone to accompany him whenever, wherever, because there’s no safe place nowadays.

Just like at that moment, he didn’t have an umbrella and the rain was pouring hard. It’s cold and I could see he’s tensed. Magsaysay PUJs passed but I am taking the Bonifacio route. So the man was. It’s as if he’s in a hurry not to get late for the mass (though it repeats hourly, in different languages). He’s about to get in a PUJ but its signboard said Magsaysay. God knows how I wanted to offer my umbrella to that man but there’s a bit of force that insisted not. But, when this driver saw the people waiting, he immediately changed his route. So an old couple, I, and the old devoted man, were able to take the ride. I felt an ease that we’re finally on our way to church.

Traffic was not too heavy maybe because it’s still early and the weather wasn’t too good. The PUJ stopped in front of the Cathedral and the vehicle was suddenly more than a half empty. As I crossed the road, I saw this familiar old man taking his steps towards the church. This time, I couldn’t let go of the chance that I might help him. I offered my umbrella and we both took some meters. All of a sudden, I remembered my grandfather. Is he doing fine in our home? Does he feel sick? Does anybody take good care of him? Does he miss me the way I do? Can he still endure and wait for me to get back? Tears watered my eyes but I couldn’t let it fall. For the first few times in months, I heard again the word “apo” (grandchild), with a different high impact melody in my ears. The old man was shivering and a strike of blame landed on me for not doing it so earlier. His age marked those slow footsteps and a notion of helplessness and uncertainty from the environment where he belongs; but I could perceive his hopefulness and it fueled me to keep going.

I thought, I just thought, I am very faithful and this is so exceptional about me. But no, I’m somewhat wrong. There are a lot more people like this man that is full of love for his devotion to God and passion for life. He might be alone at a sight, but inside he’s so full of faith that he couldn’t even think that nobody is there for him. His power of belief makes him stand, walk, and offer himself everyday that until now, he’s able to live. At that very moment of his tight grip (signaling a pinch of gratefulness that someone is confirmed to be there for him even at the slightest point of time), I felt so empowered.

Kindness is contagious. It comes from this man, not from me. I am merely one of the many noble instruments to make people be reminded that The Holy still exists and will always persevere because God doesn’t really leave. God is always here. God is always with us.

A lot of times go by that our faith is being tested without actually the recognition; it just happens. This story of mine for today is just one among the myriad instances that the power of love, hope, faith, and existence itself is realized. Each day can be a miracle, that we all breathe, that we’re all residents of Earth. We discover ourselves in every drop of a second and we explore our lives further not through our own but through our fellowmen.

As for me, I get inspired by you. Criticisms, adversity, loneliness, doubts, and emptiness get clearer every time. I am determined to face such struggles and fight for myself, fight for you, men of amazing faith; because you let me believe that I am not alone in this battle, that we can actually hold on to our beliefs, that we can actually carry on through our passion, that I naturally acquire this spark of love for humanity and that these testimonies trigger me to live. God is with us all the time at all places, in any condition. Impossible can be possible because we believe. God is whom we believe, that’s why we actually can.

Stronger, is how I call. Faith that is not tested, is not faith at all.

Categories: Daily Post, Inspire, Part of Me, Reflection | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Embracing Adversity; So it will soon let go of me.

I know I’ve been hating myself for this

But it won’t last I promise

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Red and green lights on the street

Creates the shadow out of me

Walk fast through the noise and heat

Take the route I cannot see

 

Slow down, stop, then go

Discover paths I did not know

Not too certain where it leads

Aim, still, what it needs

 

Nobody reads what’s inside

If I am scared or naive or tensed

Alive or have somehow died

Sincerity for me bears sense

 

When the day just started

As early as the visit of Dr. Exhausted

It all goes weird I’m tired of toil

Subtle swallowing of soil

 

I am born this way so sweetly

But why does it taste so bitter

That I am not the person I want to be

Higher, farther, more, and better

 

Jammed on a traffic

Freedom I seek

Let go, when is the time

Sooner as it leaves the rhyme

 

Now do I even feel

Like I soar above

Or sink beneath

The doldrums of stability

 

Nothing farther

Nothing new

Confined myself, encapsulated

Stuck on the edge

 

Dusk, go home where it embraces me

Dawn, for another hope

Each day I learn

That I do not change in a blink of an eye

 

Fall asleep and wake up

With such spark of madness

And make it glow

No matter what it takes

 

If I truly love a thing

Fight for it, a must

Bring out the rhyme and rhythm

Not because I am comfortable with it

 

Perhaps it weakens me

At this spot

But it is also within

Where I will gain

 

My strength in any adverse state of mind.

 

Categories: Part of Me, Poetry, Reflection | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Love That Stays Forever

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In memory of the noble Shirley Temple. (This post is not all about her but I find it as a way to put some touch of her quotable line into an account that I’m going to share this time.)

There’s nothing like real love. Nothing.

Based on the paper that is written by a professional degree holder I’ve read about De-Psychologization of Love, here comes Alain Badiou’s Conditions in a Philosophy course, quoted in the first page: “The relative poverty of all that philosophers have said about love, I am convinced of that, is because they have tried to explain it through either psychology or theory of passions”. – wherein it takes a lot of time and effort to catch a glimpse of how love is defined in one of the most critical sense. True love, I’ve learned is not: 1. Classical which separates two persons from being a compensation of one another. 2. Romantic which is centered on one’s self trying to dominate the other person. 3. Child birth being the primary motivation disguised as Eroticism which devaluates the meaning of family emergence.

What captures the truth in love is by being ‘Two’. Love is built from the differences where a man and a woman find each other… Love is nothing other than an exacting series of enquiries into the disjunction, into the Two. Disregard all these texts starting from “Based on the paper…” until “… into the  Two” because for now, I do not use it as a point of view.

To my one and only Dear Family,

Everything I do, I do it for you.

Lolo and Lola. Do you have an idea of how much you give me strength? Perhaps I also cannot measure but I can feel it whenever I struggle against the raging storms that scare me. I manage to pass through darkness because I know that the light I can gather will brighten up your days.

Dad and Mom. Do you have an idea of how much you keep me going? Perhaps I also cannot measure but I can feel it whenever I skirmish getting up from stumbling. I handle myself to overcome the fears that might obstruct my vision of you being proud of me.

Tita. Do you have an idea of how much you trigger me to be hopeful? Perhaps I also cannot measure but I can feel it whenever I stay still spite of rejections. I stand across the whirling winds and ‘carry on’ for I don’t want you to see me weak, for I don’t want you to sense it.

Ivan, Romson, Angel. Do you have an idea of how you motivate your Ate? Perhaps I also cannot measure but I can feel it whenever I wake up and say ‘never quit’. I used to seem tough to sustain each stride I take today because it is my gift for you to experience a better life tomorrow.

I hope you all understand that there is some point in our life when I have to be apart from you, the people who matter to me the most; but that does not make me love you any less. I don’t always want to show you a vulnerable side of me because I don’t want to share this pain that I endure right now. It feels so sad to be alone but I never tell you. I never tell you I cry every night; instead, I answer your calls with a laugh. I don’t usually tell you I am tired, and sleepy, and hungry; instead, I tell you I’ll take a rest later. I cannot tell you that I failed a quiz; instead, I spend more hours to review my notes. I will not explain to you how hardly it takes me to get my tasks done; instead, I let you think I enjoyed them. I may not describe you how frightening it is for me to face some situations; instead, I go to church and pray. Those are the things I do everyday to take your worries away.

Let us believe that our sacrifices are making sense little by little. ‘Be the good girl I always have to be’ is the line that flashes towards me. God is with us facing the trials. He doesn’t just make them lighter loads for us, but He joins us against all odds. I ask Him, not of any amount, not of any gadget, not of any boyfriend. I ask Him to tell you that I temporarily miss you. I ask Him to show you how much I Love You. I ask Him to guide us as He never failed to stay with us in good times and in bad times. I ask Him health and safety that we may all continue living our lives to the fullest. I have yet to show you how grateful I am to nurture this kind of love inside of me- the world of no condition and of no hesitation that I will forever prove you… that each of the member of the family I belong to… plays a role of significance in performing a legendary story on this stage of nothing but perfect fantasies fused into reality.

The day will come when financial concerns won’t bother you anymore; when the house of your dream becomes our home; when old furniture will be replaced with ideal ones; when we can be supplied completely by material things we both need and want; when working is no more an obligation for I must pay you with comfort; when we may be able to help other people, too, in their circumstances and help raise themselves the way we strive for ours. Amid all these, we shall never cease to praise our glorious God.

Someday, dear family, we can live happily… ever after. I offer to you a love that stays forever.

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Don’t be too hard on yourself

Don't be too hard on yourself

I had lunch in the Woods a while ago. I was given a book mark before I got my food. It says about a scripture from the Bible. It’s kind of aiming the motivating lines I need for this day. I’m so anxious that I would just fall asleep the moment I saw my bed and cried as I woke up. I know that this is a very frantic side of me but I trust myself to let the hard feelings go as soon as I regain strength from the people and the things I used to dedicate all these hardships.

And the title… well, one of my sweetest friends, a sister indeed, (an Iska) told it to me. We always give comfort to each other whenever we feel like needing someone to talk to.

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Fear not… for…

Fear not… for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. -Luke 12:32

As I leave our home today as early as 4:30 in the morning to continue living a college life (together with other two awesome people I regard as sisters of mine), we traveled from the southern part of Luzon until the northernmost part of the country. It is never an easy task for me even though there’s a proof that the reasons why I have to sacrifice self-centered ambitions are the dreams I’ve been chasing- Dreams which are meant to give comfort, happiness, and contentment to the people I’ve been leaving for the meantime. Gaining the strength that I need for this journey is really difficult for I am scared. I am afraid of considering the chances that I cannot make things happen; but for now, I am grateful to the promise that I’ve been holding on… a promise of praising God forever because I know that while He is there, I can never be alone. Challenges won’t disappear right away but I know that as long as the intentions are from the heart, the battle is won. God will never fail us.

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