Beat the Blues!

Q: What is bad about a two-month holiday filled with swaying palm trees, cloudless skies, ocean breeze, bright sunshine and surrounded by friends and relatives?

A: Returning to a quiet house, gray skies, freezing temperature, hardly any one outside.

Q: How did you beat the blues?

A: Faked it till I made it! Ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaa!

Happy New Year!

Hello, everyone! I wish you all the best for the new year. Everything around us look bleak: the economic collapse is starting to hit home. I know, I feel it too, especially that I am out of job, and have astronomical medical expenses. The good side, though, is that I look at this as a time to really look deep in myself and see where can I cut costs.

Frankly, I was sucked by this materialistic world, too: I have too many clothes, shoes, and my basement and garage are filled with boxes of stuff that I never opened (and never missed!) for the past 2 years. Therefore, for this new year, my goal is simplify, simplify, simplify. We will start this weekend when my daughter and I will go through each room and sort through the treasures and junk that have accumulated through the years.

Wish me luck, but what I really need is wisdom to know which ones to keep and which ones to throw, and strength and will power to part with those things that had 'owned me' over the years.

My family wishes you a new year that is full of sweetness, happiness and prosperity without end!

Home Is home...

By now, my family had been traveling in and out of the Philippines for 20 years. The first time we left the country was in 1988 when my husband was asked to join the church regional office in Singapore. Our daughter was then 6, our son was 18 months. Now she is 26 and he is 21.5 years old.

You should think that we are now experts in sorting, packing, estimating weights of suitcases, immigration procedures. You should think that we have perfected the skill of tipping and haggling with taxicab drivers and porters. Tsk, tsk, tsk. I am afraid we will never perfect this set of skills – there will always be something we forgot to pack, and we will always wonder if we gave too small a tip, or perhaps, too big?

I wait for my husband as he loads our huge suitcases onto a cart and haggle with porters… we can never travel without our gigantic suitcases… what a pain. Nevertheless, I am going home, and everything else is trivial.

The thought of going home always gives me pleasure and happiness. No matter that ‘home’ is halfway around the world and it is an exhausting 19-hour plane trip away. No matter that the house where I grew up seemed to have shrunk. No matter that it is hot, humid, and dusty, dogs barking, roosters crowing before you are ready for the day. No matter what, home is home – it is still the best place in this world.

“Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave and grow old wanting to get back to.” John Ed Pearce

The Song of...the Lamb

The soloist was gray and balding, years of living clearly seen in his facial lines. The lady soloist two numbers before this was also nearing retirement, gray and heavy-set. Many of the members of the choral group are about the same age – retired or nearing retirement. There are some who are younger, but generally, these are older choristers here. They wore sky blue robes with a white cross on the stole… nothing fancy, no fashion icon or anywhere near it, nothing “cool”here. But why am I sobbing like crazy?

I am here in the General Conference auditorium, attending the National Christian Choir concert – an afternoon “Service of Worship Through Music.” That’s what the printed bulletin says. As we found our seats, the opening notes of the song, “Above All,” floated softly. I can sense a refinement: the piano accompaniment are beautiful and lilting, timed perfectly, the sounds well- controlled. The drums are well modulated, the crescendos slowly building up and then burst into joy and full strength. By the time the lady soloist sang, I was already a mess.

I do not know about you but this kind of music just hits me right between the eyes. I had just finished listening to a youth concert at our church minutes ago. They were really good, they sang the right notes, great tones, expression, but I experienced something here that I did not at the youth concert. I tried to analyze (in the middle of sniffing and stifling my sobs) what was missing.

Ah, I think I got it: these people here have experienced life: loss of a loved one, illness in the family, challenges with children, rejection, failure, poverty – their faces show that they must have been in the crucible one time or another in their lives. And these people also experienced living through all these pain by the grace of God. Yes! That’s it! They experienced how it is to hold on to the Lord every moment of their lives, and they are here not to perform, but to worship. When it is a person’s heart and not just his voice that is singing, it makes all the difference. His every breath is a prayer, a petition, a praise, to the Almighty.

I now understand a little bit of what “the song of Moses and the Lamb” would be like. I am sure it will be something we have never heard of before, the saints singing their song of experience, of all the hurt and pain they have gone through while waiting for the Lord. They will also be singing how the Lamb had wrapped His arms of love around them and led them until they reached heaven’s streets. It will be a majestic, emotion-laden performance, and I am so looking forward to hearing it!

I now have a new respect and admiration for our older singers – age sweetens their music….

The gray and balding soloist stood up and sang one of my favorite songs, “Praise the Lord.”

“When you’re up against a struggle that shatters all your dreams, And your hopes have been truly crushed by Satan’s manifested schemes, And you feel the urge within you to submit to earthly fears, Don’t let the faith you’re standing in seem to disappear.”

“Praise the Lord, He will work through all who praise Him, Praise the Lord! For our God inhabits praise, Praise the Lord, For the chains that seem to bind you, serve only to remind you, that they are powerless behind you, if you praise Him!” (by Mike Hudson & Brown Bannister)

I reached for my purse and searched for another pack of tissue….

Photos from Niagara Trip

Untitled Album

Autumn Escapades

Autumn is a lovely season! The temperature is just right, the flowers are still in bloom, and most of all, the change in the foliage colors is just stunning! I take in this experience like a hungry child, and so I try to take long drives in the fall just to enjoy the amazing colors that Mother Nature generously scatters all over the northeastern United States.

Driving to Michigan early in the month, around a bend in the Pennsylvania turnpike, we were suddenly met by a very beautiful display of autumn colors: various shades of red, orange, yellow and green. I clapped my hands in delight at seeing such perfect mountainscape bathed in the afternoon sun. After this sight, on the way up and coming back, I was on a lookout for similar sceneries but nothing else can match that gorgeous sight.

We also decided to visit Lady Liberty just to say hi to her. Actually, Cynthia, my brother-in-law’s wife is visiting us, so we thought she should pay her respects to one of the most noble and popular ladies of modern civilization. We went on a weekday, so the tourist rush was not that bad, but I cannot say the same of the New York city traffic. We couldn’t seem to find Ground Zero in the maze of traffic and one-way streets and what’s more, got pulled over by the NYPD traffic cop – for turning right on red! Well, at least, we can say we saw New York city, even if it was only from our car. There was nowhere to park, even just to find a restroom! Country bumpkins that we are, we drove away without even stepping on terra firma of this famous city.

Another lady we visited just this weekend was named Lelawala. Have you heard of her?

No? How come? I thought she was famous!

Maybe her birthplace might ring a bell: Niagara.

Okay, here is the story: Lelawala was a beautiful Indian princess(aren’t they all are?) who live upriver from Niagara. She got betrothed (don’t ask me how) to a guy chosen by the chief (yes, same plot), someone older, richer but mean (you can see where this is leading, but hold on, there might be something different here). On the day of the wedding, Lelawala was so heartsick, she ran away (Cynthia said she’ll run away too if she were in L’s place – the groom was old and ugly and fierce looking). Lelawala could not bear the shame that she has brought to her family, so she took a canoe, and fled. The story (really, the myth) says that she heard the call of the thunder gods, and followed their voices. She paddled her canoe until she reached the rapids of the Niagara, and plunged into the thundering roar of the waterfalls. People say they sometimes see her standing on a rock, thinly veiled by the mists of the roaring waters, hands stretched upward as in worship. They claim she protects those who respect the beauty and strength of this amazing wonder of nature, and is the reason for the survival of some of those who plunged into the water below.

Hey, nice story, isn’t it? The boats that ferry tourists from the US side is called “Maid of the Mist,” while those from the Canada side are called “Lelawala.” Now you know!

Beautiful, amazing, powerful – I am out of vocabulary for this wonderful handiwork of the Lord. See the photos, otherwise, give this place a visit –it will be worth your while. And say hi to Lelawala for me. Happy Autumn!

People and Places