Beautiful. My Victory Story.

“The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,but true beauty in a Woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she knows.”   Audrey Hepburn

Fifteen years of friendship. Fifteen years of mentoring. Fifteen years of discipleship. 

It is a journey I would not want to do with anyone but her. A journey of the breaking of wills, the acceptance of correction, the celebration of God's mercies and love. She has never turned her back on me. She has been there for me from the time I walked in Madrigal Arts Center Alabang until today. 

The biggest gift she has given me? She has taught me to pray. For that I will forever be grateful. She has taught me to seek God and be at His feet. She has shown me the beauty of silence and God's wonderful presence.

We have each had our share of falls. Each had our share of heartbreak. Each she turned into a lesson of God's unfailing love. There was never a point where she allowed the question, God, do you love me? Always it was an attitude of thanksgiving for God's mercies.

She is beautiful. She has risen up time and again, shaken but never broken. She has overcome because she understands. She is beautiful because she allows God to work from within.

Thank you, Chelo Gemina for this wonderful and colorful journey. 

The Pain of Silence

Behind the shroud of silence, I weep

Behind the cloud of darkness, I die

Every moment I remember, I wither up inside

I loved you in silence,

I rallied for you in the darkness

And yet you refuse to see the real me

*niteskkye*

Days have passed, weeks even. I struggled, I prayed. I even dared and asked God why? And, He has answered. I will continue to pray. I will battle this on my knees. I know that until you see and experience the magnitude of God's mercies, you will not wholly see me. 

I will let you keep silent - I know that it is only in the silence where you will hear the whispers of my Father. 

I Will Find My Shangri-La

"Gentlemen, I give you a toast. Here's my hope that Robert Conway will find his Shangri-La. Here's my hope that we all find our Shangri-La." Lord Gainsford, Last Horizon 1937

I was about five years old when I read the book The Lost Horizon and about eight or nine when I watched the movie. I remember being enthralled at how the book described everything and how my childhood imagination created a Shangri-La in my head - snow-capped mystic mountains, lush mysterious forests, cold raging waters. I imagined it to be somewhere in the Himalayas. Tibet, Sikkim, Bhutan, even Nepal. A place of tranquility, a place of happiness.

The concept of Shangri-La has always stayed with me. Not an actual place but this feeling of peace and of contentment. A Utopia, so to speak. It is a place in my mind where everything seems quiet, still and beautiful.

At this time where everything seems noisy and turbulent, the yearning to find my Shangri-La is more pressing. How I wish I could just pack my bags and ride off into the sunset. How I yearn for a time where I can just wake up and sit still and be at peace. In a world where everything is connected and in an industry where operations are 24/7, it is difficult to disconnect and just be quiet. There is always a constant notification on the phone, a text message, a phone call or an email. It is very rare to find a space or time of quiet.

I want to be able to just sit still and be quiet. I want a time to just breathe in and bask in my Father's glory. I want to be able to get at least a week off, disconnect and be at His feet. 

I will find my Shangri-La. My happy place. I need to find it to quiet my soul and get me renewed.

The Blessing that was Bacolod

"A good memory is one that can remember the day's blessings and forget the day's troubles." Irish Blessing

The trip top Bacolod came at a time when my heart was weary and troubled. I looked at the trip as a means to escape and an opportunity to breathe but it did more than that. It allowed me to see things from a different perspective, to appreciate and be thankful of what God allowed to happen.

Just like any Philippine province, Bacolod has a distinct personality - warm, gracious, welcoming. We were hosted by a friend from there who also had her friends be part of our trip. There was an instant feeling of being part of a group, not someone from the outside looking in. 

Hosted by Bacolod's Loveliest

Bacolod created new friendships and cemented existing ones. New friendships are always refreshing. Sharing lives and life's experiences with people who are different from you will always give you a new perspective and a different mindset. Truly a blessing to be with a group of strong personalities that made me look meek.  

"Each day holds a surprise. But only if we expect it can we see, hear, or feel it when it comes to us. Let's not be afraid to receive each day's surprise, whether it comes to us as sorrow or joy. It will open a new place in our hearts, a place where we can welcome new friends and celebrate more fully our shared humanity." Henri Nouwen

There was a trip to the beach that I was wary of because of the heat and my allergies but I was thankful for that time in that beautiful, pristine reef. Though I did get burned (as always) even if I were under a tent and all, it was at that moment when God truly spoke to me. Out there in the vast open water, you truly seem to be small in the grand scheme of things. All your troubles seem so minute and unimportant. It was as if God was telling me that it was nothing. Shrug it off and move on.

 "For every dream in our heart, God gives us inspiration. For every hope we seek, God gives us miracles." Anonymous

Carbin Reef was about a two hour trip from Bacolod City and is a 15 minute ferry from Sagay, Negros Occidental. Good sized strip of reef, clean and beautiful waters and a wonderful group of men taking care of it. As you arrive, you are given an orientation of the do's and don'ts of the reef. I would have enjoyed it if I was allowed to stay the night as waters get a different almost mysterious quality. But understanding that safety is utmost concern, at 5pm, the reef is no longer open to the public.

I got a chance to wander about the city of Bacolod with a new found friend taking me about. Always a must for me is a visit to the market, a cemetery and a church. As we were walking about, Bacolod City for some reason has a mausoleum right smack in the middle of a busy road. It is the resting place of one of the older families of Bacolod and it truly made me wonder of its beginnings. 

Right smack on a busy street is the Luzuriaga Family plot. Across from it is the Bacolod City public cemetery.

This is the Jayme Garcia plot by the corner of Burgos St. and Lopez Jaena St.

The Bacolod Public Cemetery, sadly, is a poorly planned one. Ridiculously full that there are no clear pathways to the different plots. I understand the lack of space but then again, if proper planning was done, it would not be in this state. 

The Bacolod Cathedral or the San Sebastian Cathedral was built in 1876 by the Order of Preachers or Dominicans. It is the seat of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Bacolod. With my visit being a Sunday, it was too full and I did not get to take photos of the altar.

We also dropped by the Dizon-Ramos museum on Burgos St. in Bacolod. The home of the late La Sallian Brother Rolly Dizon. Eclectic pieces were on display, making it a bit of a letdown. The noteworthy pieces on display weren't allowed to be photographed. These were the collection of crystal/glass pieces and ornate jewelry.

Next stop was an exploration of the Silay Heritage Homes. Not too appealing for me like the homes of the North, maybe because of architecture and material differences. It did have an old world feel to it and more than the houses, it was the old trees that got to me. Centuries old trees standing sentinel to the houses. That spoke volumes to me. 

The tree right by the Balay Negrense. Wish I had the time to find out what stories this tree could tell.

The last stop for us was the Taj Mahal of Bacolod or the Ruins as it is fondly called. Ruins of an old mansion built by sugar baron Don Mariano Ledesma Lacson for his Portugese wife, Maria Braga, it is a sight to behold. The beauty in the fading light, makes you think of how much more beautiful it was in its prime.

The Ruins in the fading light.

I wonder what the stories these walls could tell.

The beauty of Bacolod is more than what is seen in the photos. There is a gentleness of spirit in the people, a genuine warmth, and a welcoming heart. I went to Bacolod as a wounded soul looking forward to some breathing space to be with my Father and I came back richer and healed. 

"In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God." St. John of the Cross

A Piece of Me

Love is when he gives you a piece of your soul, that you never knew was missing. - Torquato Tasso

We all go through life with missing pieces, big ones, small ones, and the in-between ones. Though no man can complete you, nor would I want to be complete because of one man, there are pieces that only someone can put in.

There is a sensitivity to him that scares me. He sees through my soul as no one else does. A tilt of the head, a slight change of tone, a look. He looks at me and sees me. The real me. The me that was hidden for so long, the me that still hides. I stay in the shadows not because I am comfortable but because I know no other way. As painful as it was to admit, I truly did not know how. I was so used to the shadows I did not know how to walk and exist in the light.

He pushes, he prods, he encourages, he believes. He is the hand that guides me though the walk outside of the shadows, the voice that whispers in my ear to keep moving forward. I thought I was ok going through life this way but he has shown me a life outside of the shadows. He has given me a confidence to step out and claim my destiny. He has given me back a piece of me.

Love? Yes it is. Yes I am. How can one not love someone who gives you back yourself? How can I not fall for someone who sees the real me so hidden I do not even see it myself? How can I withhold something so freely given to me?  

So now, we wait. Though we know where we want to go and what we want to be, we wait on the One who completes us to bring this to its culmination.

*Blogging again after a really long time. Thank you, Chelo for giving me the push to write again.

A Different Kind of Christmas

“One travels long distances not solely for large gatherings, but for something more intangible. I have always gone out on a limb for love.” ― Jennifer Ball 

Matthew and I traveled 500 kilometers to celebrate a different kind of Christmas. Far from our usual boisterous Christmas with my siblings and nieces and nephews, we opted to go to Laoag, spend time with two of my dad's siblings, one of them a cloistered nun in a convent, and a cousin and her husband who were here from overseas. It was truly a beautiful and refreshing time as we all took that time to get to know each other beyond facebook updates and chats. 

The convent will always feel like another home to me. Ever since my aunt entered in 2008, Matthew and I have probably visited about 5-6 times and we have always been welcomed with open arms. The smiles, the hugs, always make you feel like you are part of their family. 

The last time we saw my cousin Meredith was in 1984 and she was this tiny. Now she is married with a kid on the way and it was truly about time to get to know them. Also in this picture is Meredith's mom, Tita Veca and my aunt, now nun, Sis Josefina. 

Driving up North was well worth the memories of spending Christmas with them. We played tourist on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, with Matthew and I playing guide as we took them around the Ilocos Norte countryside.

Matthew and I have been to most of the places we visited but everything becomes different when you see it from the eyes of those who haven't been there before. Everything feels new, everything fresh. You appreciate everything all over again.

More than anything, I am really thankful for the time I got to spend with each of them. The time with Matthew on the drive to and from Laoag was more than just an adventure it was truly a wonderful time to talk, a time to just be with each other. This boy of mine is no longer a kid I can tag along, now the roles have reversed. I appreciate the time off he got and his willingness to do the drive. 

The time with Peach is always, always wonderful. She is an aunt so close to my heart. The passion to travel, to do pocket trips, to learn, to explore, I got from her. 

The time with Tita Veca is a chance to really get to know her. She has spent most of her life in Canada and rarely gets to visit. This was a chance for me to build a relationship with her that distance had taken away from us. Facebook has somewhat shortened that distance the past few years but it is still different to really get to build a relationship with her in the flesh. 

The time with Meredith and Rich is refreshing. We get a glimpse of a cousin we only saw in photographs and the life she has built now with her husband. It is refreshing to be able to bond and build a relationship with them. At the end of the day, no matter how long it is between visits, or how far apart we are, we are still family. There is that intangible bond that ties us together, that bond that makes you feel like you have known each other all your lives.

The time with the nuns is always moving. The Christmas Eve service with them brought me to a place where I truly felt peace. A place that touched my soul and brought back wonderful memories of Christmas past. Christmases when both Mom and Dad were with us. Christmases of my childhood.

The best gifts I received this Christmas were not gaily wrapped under a tall tree. They were wrapped in the lives of the people I spent it with, wrapped up in memories I will cherish for years to come. 

Anchors

"I'm single, footloose and fancy free, I have no anchors. Work, friendship and self-improvement, that's me." Joel Edgerton

This is me, except that I HAVE anchors. I have people in my life that keep me grounded, keep it real. Whether they know it or not, they have encouraged me, pushed me, challenged me, kept me on my toes, held my hand, and guided me through my journey. 

Chelo, who has weathered so many of my life's journeys with me, call them "A Janssen in my life". A term coined to somehow understand how they have impacted my life. Only a few get that title. A very select few. 

Janssen Morados. We easily transitioned from being friends to him being my boss and pastor simply because he never stopped being a friend. I am not sure if he ever knew that I looked to him for strength, sought him out for comfort. With him, I can let my guard down. I allow myself to be raw, to be vulnerable. He ministers to me without him even knowing it. He ministers by just being him.

Excellence is not a mere goal to him, it is a lifestyle, it is who he is. And he always challenged me to be that too. Ok is never ok. He always knew what buttons to push to get my creative juices flowing. He made me believe in my ideas, made me think out of the box and do cartwheels and handstands while at it. 

When things get tough, I always ask myself: How would Janssen handle this? How would he want me to respond to this? In whatever road I take, whatever season I am in, I will always, always look to him. 

Sean Mahar. In the three years I have known him, he has been constant. My constant. He has been through this major soul searching journey with me. He has been holding my head up, egging me on, not allowing me to quit. He gate crashes my pity parties and makes sure that I snap out of it. 

He is a knight of the old kingdom. Not one of those in shining armor out to sweep you off your feet, but a gallant one who will slay dragons and fight battles for you.

There are more than 8,000 miles separating us but it never really mattered. Location is just trivial. He is always with me as I am with him. He is never far from my mind.

Keith Schulstad. This gutter swearing, cranky, old man is a sweetheart. His gruff exterior is just for show. He has a tenderness in him that is so endearing, you see it in the little things, in the way he worries when you're sick, in the way he panics when you don't pick up a call straight away. 

He is demanding and territorial. Though he doesn't expect you to be at his beck and call or be underfoot, he elicits that response. He is very appreciative of every gesture, every response. It is very encouraging to always be appreciated and to know that your efforts are not in vain. He is thoughtful and gentle. He will always take your feelings into consideration in every aspect.

He is my boss, but now, he is also my dad. He has filled the void in my heart left by my dad's passing. He is my dad all over again.

Ariel Yonzon. Where do I even begin? He waters my soul with witty comebacks and humorous remarks. He refreshes me with his sensitivity and gentleness. With him, I can let my hair down and know that I am not judged. I can speak freely, without pretense or guilt. 

He can see through me. Through my moods, my responses. He knows when things are not right in my world. I don't know how and why, he just knows. AND he believes that I deserve better. Hearing it from him makes me believe it, too.

Unbeknownst to him, he fans a flame that sparks a forgotten desire. I look to him for passion - for the craft that I have tried to forget. I look to him for pleasure - for discourse and banter. He is, a beautiful mind.


Anchors. They are my anchors. Men who keep me at bay. Men who show me the greatness of my Father's love and mercy. Each of them a facet of His love.