THE STORY OF EVASION

[January 31, 2014 at 8:46pm]

No matter what his critics—and mine—may say, I will always be a big fan of Robert S. Jaworski. It was not just his basketball ability and prowess that got me attracted in him in his sport, but chiefly his rarer-than-blue-diamond attitude each time he would nonchalantly but dramatically enter the hardcourt.

When he’d start playing, I would see no nonsense in him. It’s because he would always treat each game a do-or-die game. He was a defense specialist that any opposing offensive player then in the league.  Against whom Jaworski was assigned to defend, would find a hard time shaking him off to evade.

For me still, I’ve yet to see any other local player who could play with the same intensity like him, except for the many-time national champion the flamboyant Samboy “Skywalker” Lim. What I liked the most with Samboy was his uncanny ability to evade a defense in the air. He could twist any part of his body in suicidal way that each and every dare was enough to raise a spectator’s hair. No wonder, he retired without completing a season in the PBA. He did spend most of his time on the bench due to various injuries.

In the senate, movie actor-current senator Bong Revilla alias “Pogi,” a true-to-life brother-in-law of ex-Senator Jaworski, is likewise too good in evading an issue that would come his way, especially about his alleged involvement in a controversial PDAF scam story. Instead of answering matter-of-factly one by one all of the charges, he chose to evade the issue and segue to immaterial and irrelevant matters in a privilege speech.

Just like Senator Jinggoy, reportedly coded “Sexy” by Janet Lim Napoles and company. Instead of refuting all evidence against him by producing evidence to the contrary, he too obviously evaded the issue simply. Well, you can’t blame both good senators for doing similar tricks. Even the impeached Mr. Renato Corona, an ex-Chief Justice, now formally charged by the Ombudsman, employs as well the same tactics.

If the ghosts of girl friends past—please take note of the words “girl” and “friend’s” gap—would confront me and ask, “Talk honestly in telling us, who is your all-time greatest love?” I think it is evasion likewise if rather than giving a straight answer, I’d just sing it like Rod Stewart: “I don’t wanna talk about it, how you broke my heart…”

But on the flip side, evasion is commendable if we do it because we don’t want to be caught lying, or be compelled to commit sin, as what’s said in the Bible: “Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful…” (Psalm 1).

We can defy temptation by evading its dwelling that temptation in return would evade us through. For the same Bible said it further clearly too: “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7).

OF WISDOM AND UNDERSTANDING

[January 31, 2013 at 2:44pm]

See? When it comes to character, even those from the other side of the fence, or the more privileged amongst us, could hardly show a difference.

When we witnessed the brewing war, not about law, but about immorality and spoils division, at the top echelon of legislation of our nation, some people in this country discovered that the supposed models of rhyme and reason turned out to be all worthy to be gibbeted at least for treason.

People further said they seem to be not our equals. As if they all are lesser individuals.

The hardest things to find in congress are the people characteristically discreet and have more finesse. And the irony of which, there’s abundance of suck kind of people right in the streets. They may be a sector in our society bereft of learning and academic resources, yet endowed with human understanding, propriety and respect.

Definitely, some of the basic essentials and true wisdom of life are hidden from the consciousness of the so-called educated and hyped. There’s knowledge, supposedly the most important one, that's revealed to the babes and sucklings, but because of their haughty pride and unrepentant spirit, it was kept and hidden from the learned (Matt. 11:25).

Since the foundation of civilization, men didn’t stop searching for wisdom and understanding and even conquering oracles, riddles and fables, but they miserably failed in getting even a good grasp of the much simpler Golden Rule, Beatitudes and Parables.

Many times over it is written in the Psalms, that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. And we can never have wisdom if reigning in our hearts are pride, lust, greed and the like. Let rather dwell therein love, peace, joy, long-suffering and other life virtues of such kind.

And we’ll wish together that in the gauge of heaven, we will gain and posses that greatest wisdom. The kind of wisdom that would unshackle us from the bondage of sin, would give us total freedom.

“MICHELLE” MA BELLE

[From January 30, 2012 at 11:37am ]

I was in panic as I tried to find a counter with a shorter queue in a very crowded grocery chain last Saturday to cash in an infant milk, when suddenly I bumped into someone’s pushcart overloaded with food items, mostly American junk, the buyer of which, though of faded glory in beauty, her skin was of the same old familiar identity: smooth as silk.

I recognized her right away at first sight although the lines around those then ultra-magnetic eyes were trying to take away their pulling power now like what happened to Superman when he was touched by a kryptonite. And when those eyes met mine, I let loose a hesitant smile and gestured to tap her right shoulder with my left hand and she smiled back so fine.

But I noticed her clenched fist obviously about to meet my open palm, and suddenly something flashed back in my mind as it did come: our old familiar child-play in greetings, the “mano de piedra” or hand of stone grinding thing. As if on cue, I automatically clenched fist too for old time’s sake, and we did fist-bumping twice followed by interlocking of thumbs like caressing snakes. Beyond reasonable doubt, I knew it so well, after so many years I found again “Michelle,” mah-belle.

Like that controversial fist-bumping of Barrack Obama with his own Michelle, we had our own ritual of endearment too with my old school buddy “Michelle.” She was a seatmate and my source of copying in our class in Statistics, but unlike that Saturday she had then that ideal vital statistics. We were so close in that college year of ’97, but I don’t know why there was never a spark between us and friends we just remained.

At the time there were meritorious considerations actually, I’d just had a setback then in the affairs of the heart while she was no longer free. She was then involved or committed to a national athlete but unmarried to each other. And I was just her chief confidant or a shoulder to cry on at times and a “big brother.”

She invented “mano de piedra” for greetings then ‘coz she was a hip-hopper who loved body-piercing and dark heavy lining of a vampire’s eye. Our public display of “affection” upon meeting last Saturday was only for yesterday once more as if we never said goodbye. That day she was a complete departure from her past at least in appearance, but after we swapped pleasantries in an awkward manner I guessed something between us needed severance.

For when I asked her (about her old flame, that national athlete, who was fond then of giving her all kinds of headache) “is he still playing his game?” point-blank, I knew she knew there was double meaning in it that when I picked up a fallen item to put it back to her pushcart ‘coz she replied nothing but “Thanks.”

After Michelle turned around and excused herself to return to her companion she left elsewhere, I got a feeling ‘twas our final “mano de piedra” and I’d seen the last of her. She may be rich girl today and I’m now completely out of her loop yet I know there comes a time she’d recall that once in her life, especially during those saddest moments of her economical and emotional struggle I was a friend with benefits in every strife.

She might have been upset over my past counsel and friendly rebuke along with those things I shared. But surely she’ll remember someday that at one time or another there was somebody who cared.

LOVE VERSUS “DINUGU-AN”

(Bloody thoughts on January 26, 2013 at 10:36am)

From the moment I chose my desired seat freely up to the time the bus left the terminal, I already kept myself busy. Busy in warding off buzzing and non-buzzing mosquitoes one of which thought she was a bee. That’s why those different folks of different strokes who got on board while we were stationary, not one of their faces did register in my mind initially.

Therefore I was shocked upon seeing a familiar face disembarking when we reached the town proper of Tigbauan. Yeah, I said shocked because it was exactly the same fresh face I often saw twenty years ago in “Pasahero Sosyal 1.”

She too was a “suki” of the very first prototype of “Sosyal” during its introductory period. And she was always getting off at “Doctors” every morning with her variety of junk food.

For several times I had my eyelids pinched, just to believe what I saw, I quickly seized the moment. I scrutinized her pretty face looking for that unforgettable big mole near both eyes or between. I knew upon seeing it I’d start to believe that the fountain of youth is not a myth indeed. For how could one retain the same beauty and freshness after almost two decades?

When I saw no mole, I did suspect she had it removed through medical operation. Yet, would I blame those youthful curves, porcelain skin and baby face to an anti-ageing lotion? My problem was solved when after her, followed another woman looked a bit older but had still some shades of a stunner. She had the same facial features with the one much younger, except the mole between her glinting eyes, she was every inch her mother.

I remember I was then in my maiden year in the job, and the mother was a senior in nursing course she loved. I knew it because next to the windshield were her books I often saw, including the glaring one its title had the phrase “Iglesia Ni Kristo.”

As my eyes followed the mother and daughter as they stepped down the bus holding each other, and walked away like sweet sisters, I couldn’t refrain myself from asking myself: What if I’d followed my previous plan to be a nurse chaser, and granting arguendo I became successful in having her, would we be getting the same daughter, or of lesser aesthetic visual more like her father?

Whatever, I’m certain I wouldn’t mind as I’m not a respecter of persons by any appearance they have. What I was scared of would be if I’d believe what they believe that the Son of Man is not God. And worst of all, I’d be told to isolate myself from eating the “unclean” like the ones crawling under the ocean. Therefore, I compelled myself to give up my heart’s desire to try charming a daughter of Tigbauan.

Besides, at the time, I wasn’t yet in serious search for “The One.” And I was THEN a sucker for “dinugu-an.”

THE JOB

[January 18, 2013 at 3:48pm]

Last Tuesday I left the house at four A.M. and arrived back therein in the evening at around eleven, all because of the job, yes, the job. It’s the kind of job which when it leaves you no other choice but to grab, makes you envious of Mr. Yeoman’s job.

Forgetting about fear is one of the essentials of the job and I had to practice it again that night in Ajuy by riding in a brakeless truck. The driver, acting like god, assured me he was an expert in the so-called engine break but he did beseech me to just pray hard.

There are jobs in which the more you’re earning, the more they are relaxing. Some, for which for years you were yearning, are still heavily taxing. Take the case of Tito, Vic and Joey, they are very relaxed, always have fun while hosting for E.B, yet they laugh their way to the bank at the same time to pile up their money.

And take the case likewise of John Doe who could not relax for even a second while under the sun heat when performing his job in the farm or along the shore.  But his wages, this I’m so very sure, are just good for becoming the day’s survivor, like another guy for a girl, breaking his back to earn his day of leisure.

But as for me, I’m trying to learn to find joy in everything that comes around. How I wish I could say it like Paul, “I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound” (Philippians 4:12)

In this life, learning to be contented with everything seems to be the hardest thing. Human as we are, we can’t get satisfaction with anything as it’s in our nature to always seek for a better something.

A lowly janitor would always want, at least, a clerk’s rank to hunt. A clerk would aspire often, for a supervisor’s job if the position’s open. A supervisor is the one who is restlessly eager, that someday he’d also become a manager or bigger. A manager would never sleep comfortably until he sits on the chair of CEO of the company. And the CEO, because of his work’s nature and all fronts’ pressure, would search a genie in all bottles of liquor just to turn him ASAP to become a janitor.

Therefore, having subjects like these who could not make up their minds for a single idea, if you’re Zeus of Olympus or Priderock’s King Mufasa, you’ll fret too everytime they pray for they’re like asking for a burger but thinking of pizza. You’ll be tempted to stoop to their level too and reply to them rather, “Ano ba talaga, Kuya?”

CLOSED EYES

[Closing thoughts on January 19, 2013 at 3:58pm]

While climbing the bus last Wednesday I readied my paperback borrowed from Nong Rey, but decided eventually to close my eyes so tight after taking my seat on my way to the city.

The reason: I had to resist temptation with resolve and determination of a suicide bomber so that the lust of the eyes would not triumph over me concerning a fellow passenger.

Beside me would be an indifferent and careless lady who was closing her eyes too and oblivious to her declining décolleté. A vast portion of her flesh way below her neck was exposed. She must be thankful for those twin covering cups although they too were both loose.

I was also in awe and respect of our next male seatmate who was perspiring heavily, while closing both his eyes likewise on that seat of three. Maybe the man was convinced too that those things others called “assets” were now a “liability” (?), besides, my safe estimate prima facie was the lady would already be not less than a couple of years past seventy.

Perhaps too much exhaustion forced her to fall asleep. And I bet you can imagine what we went through the entire trip. Indifference and carelessness often lead to graver disturbance of other people’s peace. If a situation calls for it, we should not hesitate to discern and do our social responsibilities.

That’s the problem with our society today, if it doesn’t concern them directly, most of the people’s hearts are reigned in by apathy. And when they realized their mistake of not speaking out for or care about something, it was too late already.

Like what happened some time ago when a twenty-something stunning lady, snoring loudly while sleeping and sitting at the rear end of the jeepney, stunned more her puzzled co-passengers therein when they saw her and her left front “asset” exposed from her unbuttoned shirt totally.

Naturally, the male passengers mostly would take a glance at it, the rest wouldn’t look away anymore as they’d find it necessary to fix their sight on the subject. The female passengers didn’t give a care. They were laughing instead as they too did occasionally stare.

But in every moment of crisis, there’s a hero that rises, as they say, and later one fine gentleman boarded the jeepney and sit right in front of the still soundly sleeping lady. And he got the shock of his life, when, after waking her up and pointed a finger on her naked left breast, the woman looked at her lap quickly, then down the road, and shouted: “My baby! Where’s my baby?!!!”

THE THINKER (PART 2)

[Reflective memories from January 16, 2014]

The moment I did read these lines for the very first time back in 1985, I was convinced if I’d like to become successful in life, each and every word thereof—punctuations including—should be memorized.

That’s why I terribly felt bad I suffered so early in life what others don’t forget to call ‘memory gap.’ Had I always thought of that, I may have had conquered half of the world like Napoleon Bonaparte.

But surely I won’t ever forget from where I first did get those lines. They were from our old boardinghouse’s frequent nun visitor I’d name ‘Sister Caroline.’ ‘Sister Caroline’ was a coed board mate’s sole sponsor of the latter’s school tuition. Of course, each time she’d visit she had a habit of wearing a habit but, boy, she was a vision.

At the close of the first semester of that school year she requested me to write those lines from Walter D. Wintle in a cartolina with a certain background drawing. I readily agreed to do it because when I asked her point-blank how a layman could win the heart of a nun she replied half-joking I’d to understand the poem’s meaning.

Sometimes I was so confused whether or not my non-continuance of schooling in that year’s second sem was considered a blessing, for I could not also imagine myself doing what was done by Rapunzel’s prince as I wasn’t yet ready at the time to scale any wall of a convent.

Yeah, if a man can’t think he can do it, it’s impossible for a thing to be accomplished. Or let’s put it this way, if a man thinks he can do it, there was someone who said fifty percent of the task did he already complete. If charity begins at home and in heart, it is in the mind that all accomplishments would start.

Do you think Rose ‘Osang’ Fontanes would rule yesterday’s Israel X-Factor singing contest had she not put it in her mind first that she would turn out to be the best? Although in ordinary eyes she’s apparently underprivileged, not having what showbiz called ‘complete package,’ still Israel’s judges favored her sheer talent from which X-factor should really be gauged.

There was some point in my life when I did think I could replace him in the Queen after the demise of Freddie Mercury, if only the surviving group members sought their late soloist’s replacement via YouTube like what’s been done by the Journey.

But to my God I’m always so grateful for He did think of a different thing for me and may have prepared me another role. Knowing full well my inner thoughts, He just asked me simply, “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Mark 8:36).

THE MASK

[Masked history, edited from January 17, 2012 post]

Last night, I was supposed to visit the wake of a late barriomate when I happened to bump into two seldom seen old friends whom I both did hate:

Boy Lupok and Part Danny Lambat (their names were only masks). 

Boy Lupok was a classmate in elementary, and Part Danny Lambat was my mahjong adversary, and, okay, when occasion called for it, my ferocious drinking buddy.

I hated Boy Lupok for he was an incredibly high leaper, hence, a tenacious rebounder despite his smaller size compared to mine.  When he got the ball up high on a rebound play, he’d slam his palm on it, creating a firecracker sound out of his hands everytime.

Thus the name Boy Lupok.

I did detest Part Danny Lambat ‘coz he beat me in one instance through one-on-one.  This despite his being then full-tanked with White Castle whisky and Tanduay ESQ Rhum. 

Actually, our two-game series then went 1-1 since I won the first game (which was lopsided) with eyes closed, so to speak.  In Game Two though his level of alcohol completely subsided thus he won with his triples that till now it’s hard for me to take.

Part Danny Lambat’s legend came from our younger days when living was reckless and we had bottles to brandish.  Then, all kinds of potable poison, from “biti-biti” to “sioktong” were bottomless, and we were all drinking like a fish.

When the wine’s spirit would finally rule over his own, he’d stand like a scarecrow in the middle of the road from dusk till dawn.  It’d force all passing vehicles to choose between two options: to brake till brake drum would break or swerve to the right portion.

We laughed out loud as we talked about our yesterday.  But I rolled in laughter when they discussed about today.  For I didn’t expect them both to also patiently watch in excitement.  What else is that but the on-going Justice Corona’s impeachment.

Boy Lupok told me he had a hunch we will be definitely seeing the real CJ in full and not in part.  This after CJ avowed, about his Chief Justice position and his person, till death do them part.  Part Danny opined that he was appalled after he heard about those 19 decisions penned or voted for by the impeached CJ all favoring Gloria.  He could not understand why the arrested ex-president did nothing wrong and always infallible in the eyes and “conscience” of Renato Corona.

I really didn’t know why I felt terribly guilty.  I may have prejudged my friends of yesterday.

Indeed, judgment and wisdom are not exclusive to the confines of the learned and educated. The ordinary men in the streets can understand and discern too, can never be fooled always.

Men and women of law, who are supposedly conscientious leaders, should not deviate from reason and fairness.  For soon or late their subject would smell foolishness, even if such leaders speak gobbledygook, the mask of justice.

THE TEACHER

(Memorable lessons of January 17, 2014)

I did initially hesitate to reveal this, fearing humiliation, but today be it universally known that the teaching profession is one of my very few personal frustrations. I had always wanted to become a teacher when I was in elementary but when I held Pongkie’s guitar in high school, I envisioned myself instead as a rock and roll sensation.

The imposing images in my rich young mind of all my early tutors in their various national uniforms all vanished therefrom simply too soon.  They were replaced by the unruly crowd of pretty faces of young girls who would shriek and swoon as they watch my concert in my wild imagination.

But although I secretly aspired to reach even just a tiny fraction of stature and fame enviably earned by John, Paul, George and Ringo, I have firmly believed in my heart too that teaching is the noblest of all calling but at the same time the most difficult job to do.

It’s because I understand it’s not easy to mold dreams of any kind. It’s because it’s always a Herculean task to hone and engrave a human mind.

I totally agree with many people that indeed experience is the best teacher. And I’m so grateful for every moment with those ones worthy to remember. Their words would often linger in memory. Their faces and figures are always here to stay.

And although there were some teachers whose moments with them others would not consider a privilege, yet in general I always have high regard for those men and women of whom I was under tutelage.  Doubtless I’m wholeheartedly convinced they were the best in their time, the way I believe that the most beautiful girls I met were a love of mine.

Even during the lowest times in my life when I was neither here, there nor everywhere, there were some individuals from yesterday who are likewise unforgettable teachers. They were the ones who taught me how to buy and burn illegal stuff now legal in Denver, and guided me to earn my doctorate degree right after becoming a drunken master.

Hence, I pity those ‘classmates,’ some of whom I still see now, who liked to shout then ‘We don’t need no education’ or ‘Hey! Teacher! Leave us kids alone!’ during a roll call. They are the early birds that were catching a worm too much too soon, but now on a free fall, flying no more, bashing their heads in regret against another brick in the wall.

Shame on him or her whoever coined a teacher as public enemy number one among mankind.  Not just a few gullible souls were swayed to fully believe it in their sub-conscious mind.

Yesterday, whether in feast or in strife, a teacher to me was always larger than life.  Allow me to say, almost all those mentors of mine, they were all a hero of our time. They were also underpaid and the most abused in the field of professionals, yet they worked hard, with diligence and dedication, even for the lesser mortals.

I fervently hope and pray every teacher in the whole country today would continue to run the torch of passion for wisdom and virtue by the educators of yesterday. The latter mostly were women of sacrifice, who deliberately forgot earthly passion and personal glory, that the next generation would seek their paths rightly.

Yeah, most public teachers of old were not driven by money.  People thought they get rich if they marry a seaman only.

I can never be a professional teacher anymore, tomorrow, much less today, due to compelling reasons and botched opportunity. Nevertheless, for those who wish for eternal glory, who knows, I may also teach, point and lead on somebody.

To the Truth.  To the Way.  To the Life.  For all eternity (John 14;6).

THE TRADITION

(Traditional edition of January 17, 2015)

If we speak seriously about tradition, allow me to say we have to look no farther. This stormy-but-sturdy country has lots of surplus, and they’re flowing like a river. “How about traditional politicians?” you ask me, and I’d answer, if you could find ten politicians who are not, it means the world has gone crazy, brother.

When one decides to enter the dirty world of politics but determined himself not to compromise, definitely he’s neither politically healthy nor he’s going to be wealthy howbeit he is spiritually wise.

For politics and tradition go hand in hand almost everywhere as they are inseparable forever. Like Jekyll and Hyde or Bonnie and Clyde, who joined together and almost no man put them asunder.

Even non-Catholics too couldn’t shake off tradition as easy as a magician says “Abracadabra.” As you can see, in general, Baptists do not celebrate their locality’s “patronal fiesta.” However, when they go to a fiesta of some place in honor of this “Santo” or that “Santa,” the “liberal” Baptists devour every meat offered them while the “radical” ones would prefer pasta.

They said in confidence they just visit friends in accordance with tradition. And they would later scramble for any verse needed for justification.

Well, loyalty to friends is indeed one of the traditions we never forsook, it’s a street education or a playground’s course we gladly took. We have learned this thing upclose and personal in conventional way and I mean personal touch, way before the advent of Facebook.

In Kirayan, in the sides of the North, how could we not develop such kind of friendship into full-blown relationship when eversince the world began it was as if we were weaned and kept together in one crib?

Therefore when one of our friends finally married the only girl he would worship, the rest did follow them all the way to Baguio, even up to their honeymoon’s doorstep.

And if that groom said their rendezvous with us like troopers of Starship after all still had a peaceful result, please, in him do not believe. I tell you, aside from his endless grumbling and tirades, what we did would he often re-live, and there’s daily blame that we receive.

Thus, we are arduously punished by vowing a vow that we already made, that during and every wedding anniversary of them, whether it’d be held in a palace or in a cave, we have to constrain ourselves to re-gather together or send a spouse as representative.

And for fifteen years we have successfully upheld and followed that tradition as if it’s written in a star, except in those times when one or some of us happened to be sailing the high seas or had relocated too far.

But so long as good health stays stellar and there’s no some other compelling reasons to bar, anyone calling my CP on their anniversary can say, tell me if these your friends are, and I’ll tell you where you are.

But there are some traditions of men we can’t avoid to ask, how long will we suffer them, before our lives would not anymore be affected, or, God forbid, ruined? Jesus said, “In vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men… laying aside the commandments of God, ye hold the tradition of men” (Mark 7:7-8).

Truly, there is great pride seeing us all living our tradition in one accord. We preserve our culture; we make peace instead of crossing a sword.

Yeah, tradition is what we should always dear hold. Unless it is contradictory to God’s living Word.

BLOODY FRIENDS

“Henceforth I call you not servants; …. but I have called you friends” (John 15:15 KJV).

There was also a story about an entrepreneur who went to the bank to make a cash deposit to his account.  While waiting for his turn to be called, he saw his friend who had owed him previously a certain amount.

Obviously, that friend of his was about to deposit some big cash to his own account likewise.  The friend had money now but he would be saving, not paying, so he just murmured, ‘He’s wise.’  But they still talked comfortably to each other quite like the old times.  Mentioning about childhood and past love memories of various kinds.

Minutes after, while they enjoyed their conversation, there came in three burly men who swiftly announced a robbery-hold-up.  They were all brandishing high-powered firearms and in so short a time they emptied the entire vaults both with checks and cash.

Unsatisfied, the fiercest among the robbers declared to all bank employees and customers:  “I will shoot anyone who will not put in this bag his or her money, jewelry, wallet or purse.”

The friend, trembling, emptied his pockets, and to the entrepreneur, he gave all his money fast:  “Remember the amount of twenty thousand I owed you then in cash?  I am now paying back.”

It really feels great to have friends who remember you in times of trouble or before the end.  Who would stick through thick and thin, who had helped as well your broken heart to mend. 

You can’t help but find their love for you so wonderful and amazing in every sense.  But, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13 KJV).

Exactly like what did Jesus, Who showed us such sort of love.  Being His friends, He paid our debt:  and paid it with His blood (Heb.9:14,22).

THE PROMISE

[Promising thoughts from a post onJanuary 14, 2013 at 6:05pm]

One of the best things about New Year’s resolution is, right after the New Year’s Day, comes its immediate dissolution. As they say, promises are made to be broken, thus, to no one they should be indiscriminately given. No, not even to yourself, lest you may end up too fooling your own self.

If you also believe that a promise is a promise is a promise, then you don’t need friends in this world as surely everybody would be enemies. Most of the time, without waiting for their explanation at least, I’d quickly declare someone guilty of breaking a promise. Forgetting that I am probably guiltier than he/she is, most especially, in matters strictly involving love’s phases.

But as I search my own self deep down my soul with all diligence sometimes, I’d find that if I hurt people then, I meant it not, for when I told them I loved them, they were really a true love of mine (important note: I said “people,” not just women, people!).

That’s why though others roll their eyes upon hearing you saying “you are my one and only” to your truly one and only at present and hopefully in the future, you don’t mind them knowing they’re the same people who heard the same phrase you said to all the girls you’ve had loved before.

I have this strong feeling that the law on divorce would be approved finally, not in part, but in full. It could be like Moses did when he crafted their divorce law because of the insistence of Israelites, the “stiff-necked” people. That anyone whom to marry is in his wishes, could his/her marriage vows later be easily relinquished.

I’m thinking, what if the Great Author of Marriage, like what He did once in the wilderness, in much anger would let this generation also know His breach of promise (Numbers 14:34)? What if He ran out of patience too for the not-seriously-marrying people, and would let that flying by Apophis Meteorite to take a detour, slamming itself on Earth as one example?

Most important thing is, you have no cruel intention to break your sacred vow deliberately. As “Better is it that thou shouldest not vow than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.” (Ecclesiastes 5:5).

Like I do to the recipient of my vows and who had ended my search, the one I hold in my heart always even if sometimes such love hurts. To the last drop of my blood, for richer, she’s my queen of hearts. For poorer, I think I have promised as well:  till debt do we parch.

PREGNANT CREATURES

A story was told about a pregnant woman whose husband was away when she suddenly felt it was her hour already.  Therefore, she hurriedly packed her things up all by herself to go to the nearest hospital and quickly hailed a taxi.

She was humbly begging, wailing and wantonly cursing the driver just to speed up while she would alternately stretch and curl.  They reached the hospital’s emergency entrance in record time but it was too late still as she had just given birth to a baby girl.

As she was rolled in on a stretcher along with her baby, she wryly smiled as she covered her face in shame because kibitzers gathered around her taxi.  A female attendant comforted her, “Never mind it, Ma’am, worse embarrassment happened here last year to a lady:  she gave birth right at the lobby.”

To which replied she: “Yeah, and it was also me.”

Such is one of the examples of good intention gone bad.  Surely the attendant didn’t mean the woman any hurt.  She would like to readily comfort her upon seeing her patient was despondent over what happened.  She liked the woman to feel she was far better than what the lady of the previous year had experienced.

It was quite so bad it turned out the good attendant was talking to the same woman here.  Hence, rather than she would be comforted, the woman’s humiliation turned out to be severe.  Truly, in this world, anyone of us could not avoid not hurting any fellow at any given time.  Even with polite absent-mindedness, we would surely commit mistakes and faults of any kind.

For we’re all pregnant, pregnant of sin and error being an imperfect creature.  That is why we all need that Someone Who’s plenteous of mercy and succor.

That’s why we need a Savior.

WATER

[Watery thoughts on January 12, 2016 at 8:34am]

I have read a story of two men contracted to paint a small community church, and being very frugal, they deliberately pinched and scraped to spend the absolute minimum on each and every material. Then, when they were only partway through their work of which they wanted to rob, they determined that they did not, after all, have enough paint to complete the job.

Not wishing to spend any more money if they did not absolutely have to, well, that they would gain better, they decided they would just dilute the water-based paint they were using so that it would last longer. They did this a couple more times before they finished as with ear to ear they both grinned. And this caused striping on the church as the paint got lighter each time it was thinned.

The painters had just about gotten to the top of the steeple, when, all of a sudden, the bright sky darkened, and the rain started to pour. As the paint streamed down the sides of the church, a voice boomed from the sky: "Repaint, you thinners! Repaint, and thin no more!"

Water may expose a wrongdoing, yet it also cleanses everything.

I remember this story while inside the bus on my way to Roxas City last Saturday for an official errand to one of the councilors in there. In the very early morning my eyes saw a father and son tandem walking in the field both hands with a container, they were fetching water. I was sure had they lived in the early years of Israel, they’d be rather sitting. It would be the women and the girls that would rather fetch the water for them.

When Abraham’s eldest and loyal servant was commissioned by him to go and look for a wife for his son Isaac among Abraham’s own tribe and kindred, the servant found the young and beautiful Rebekah fetching water from the well herself who offered it to the servant and his camels to drink as she hasted (Genesis 24).

When the weary and tired Jesus sat and rested on Jacob’s well around noon, it was a woman, the Samaritan woman, who was fetching water despite her having five husbands in the past. But I believe that because the woman believed, she was cleansed from all moral infirmities she may have had, and she told others too after having been told by Jesus Himself who He was (John 4).

It’s the same Jesus of today Whose water He gives will make one thirst no more (v. 14). As to everyone who drinks it will give eternal life and totally cleanse his soul (John 15:3).