I write to expose my internal universe, to capture life and its absurdities, and to testify to the reality of God's unfailing love through difficult seasons of our life.
Our trip to Islos Bonitos was a relaxing experience. Hubby and I were able to unwind and rest our weary minds far, far away from the grinding heat , pressures and tension of rat race living in the metropolis. Oh, how it felt good to breathe fresh air, how soothing was the cool and musty sea breeze enveloping our jetlagged bods, how invigorating were the nutritious and sumptuous meals we all feasted on. Indeed, life on this side of the globe is a far cry from the topsy-turvy jungle of Manila. Its rustic charms and unrelenting beckons seem too hard to resist now. And what of the chima-chima ? The kids could not have enough of the food. Yummy treats for the gastro-adventurists abound. Grind, grind, grind. Our tummies never stopped chomping. The kids frolicked in the pristine waters for two days and marvelled at colourful corals, sea urchins and starfish aboard Tito’s ever-reliable boat. At night, Kuya belted his trademark videoke pieces –“Don-don, Beat it, Complicated” while t...
Blow one’s top Go berserk Let off steam Mad as a wet hen A bull in rampage These are the idoms in my writer’s tickler that fall under my scribbles on anger. Alongside are words evocative of the same meaning – rage, indignation, wrath, ire, fury. For the past weeks, I have been brooding over this negative emotion that has caused many an earthling to make brash decisions and actions that have damaging consequences. It has also caused needless grief and heartache. I have encountered people who often display this emotion – at school, at work, at home, in the grocery store, in the parking lot, in the restaurant—practically anywhere. I have also observed that its display is not confined to a particular class or age group. When piqued, kids fight back. When scolded, teens lash acerbic words. When bored or ignored, wives nag. Fathers spank. Bosses shout. Employees backbite. Soldiers shoot. Still, others kill. Where did this ticking time bomb of emotion originate? Why do we experie...
It has been six days since Pacman's stunning loss against his greatest foe--Juan Manuel Marquez. Like everyone else, I felt bad knowing JuanMa sent him to snooze land with a devastating right hook -- a punch, he alleged, he never saw coming. I didn't get to watch the fight last December 8 as it was a Sunday and it coincided with our church service. Pastor Jay, in fact, commented that he would be competing with the Pac. Much as I am a pac fan, I knew I had to attend first to my soul, and as usual, the ever eloquent JJ did not disappoint. (His sermon, "Are you finishing the race? Or is the race finishing you?" was as powerful as it was emotionally charged. Thanks to his anecdotes and experiences with his mother's faith. For over an hour, I was hooked to his preaching that whatever excitement I felt for the PacMarq fight just vanished into thin air. Then, the news... I was with the fam at Festival Mall doing our post-lunch window shopping whe...
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