The Prayer and the Rope

Just as happiness is part of life so is suffering- that blinding feeling, which seems to purge your heart and poured it with bitter taste of pain. As one goes through the ordeal of anger, hatred, grief and lamentation of if’s and but’s, slowly, the spirit gets tired of fighting and it just simply goes through the flow of living.

The gut- wrenching pain hurls you into one thing that could only comfort you- prayer. You know that even if your insides are being twisted and pounded into the abyss of helplessness something is at work. It propels you into realization that in your brokenness, only the prayer could help you, the flicker of hope lingers to dwell in your heart. You know that your heart and spirit are tired but there is somebody out there bigger than the malady that you’re going through and that He’ll take care of everything. You know that even if you don’t voice everything that’s in your heart, somebody out there understands.

Prayer then becomes the rope of your brokenness. As you drown yourself into the tears of travail of uncertainties, pity, regret, anger, doubts, fears and dreads, prayer is the rope that would tie you to hope, faith and optimism that tomorrow might bring. As the body and spirit is barren of any strength to fight, prayer binds you with faith that things will get better soon. You will be battered along the passage but just as prayer tied you to hang on, prayer will also help you to hope that in the future, scars will utterly fade away.

"The most beautiful people are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”

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Somebody Stole My Pants!

(Written by M.A., my niece, when she was 7 years old.) 

“Somebody stole my pants! Who was it?” Mad Martin asked. “Sneaky Susan, did you steal my pants?”

“No, I did not.” Sneaky Sour Susan answered.

“Then, who?”

“Maybe Bad Ben took it.” Sneaky Sour Susan replied.

“Bye.” Said Mad Martin.

“Bad Ben, did you steal my pants?”

“No. Maybe Grumpy George took it.” Said Bad Ben.

So, Mad Martin went to Grumpy George.

“Did you steal my pants, Grumpy George?” He asked.

“No, I did not steal your pants.” He also answered.

Everyone decided to look for Mad Martin’s pants. Sneaky Sour Susan told Mad Martin to check the washing machine. Everyone ran to the washing machine and they all exclaimed, “Mad Martin, it’s there!” They all looked at him. “MAD MARTIN!”

Lesson: Never blame anyone for something. Always check your washing machine. Maybe what you’re looking for is just right there.

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When God Made Teachers (The Awakening)

As to the exact date when the idea was born, I can’t really recall. I only knew that it was one fine morning and I had this very rare luxury of lingering longer on bed that I felt that gnawing restlessness of something that I needed to express.

I thought it was just another blog thingy that after writing an article then I would feel fulfilled. But, the thought of more than a decade in teaching, thousands of students, countless memories, remarkable experiences, and unique undertakings which catapulted me to who am I now, haunted me for hours and days, and nights, until finally, I succumbed into the calling.

Thus, the 101 stories of selfless sacrifices, discoveries, struggles, feats, failures, and inexplicable journey of a teacher were slowly put into words. I set the deadline. I marked the calendar. Complete layout of the book including revisions will be done. So, help me, God.

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The Art of Letting Go

It happens that there is a point in our lives that we are lost in the realm of our reveries. We weave dreams, plan for the future, and allow ourselves in trance of the beauty of what tomorrow would bring.

The dream is sometimes so beautiful that for a long time, we live in stupor believing that the intricately and exquisitely woven reverie would someday be a reality.

But, dreams are nothing but dreams. Reality is another thing.

Time comes that we are forced to wake up and face the reality. The course of waking up might be too painful to bear but when dreaming takes so long, there is no other way but to wake up. We need to face that what was once beautiful is something that we’ll never be able to grasp. They are after all, nothing but figments of our idealism and naivety.

Coming to terms that we allowed ourselves to live for such a long time in dreams is something to be done though. Just like waking up from a deep slumber, we rob our eyes and try to clear it so we can see without hindrance. At first, we hesitate to face the bright reality since living with that dream is something so good just to let go. The same thing is true when we allowed ourselves to live for so long in dreams, we need to clear our eyes so the waking up/ healing process would not be encumbered.

Those dreams are silhouette of the past. The memories have no faces, beyond grip but they hurt nonetheless. But eventually waking up would teach us that it is definitely better to endure the pain at first then face the future brightly than to be lost in trance not living a real life forever.

Surviving the Waves of Difficulty

The moment I jumped out of the boat, I knew I was in trouble. The waves were so high and so ferocious that I immediately found myself kicking my legs and flailing my arms helplessly. I tried to cling on to the boat knowing it’s my comfort zone and so long I didn’t let go of it, I’ll be fine.

Until with bruises on my arms and legs bumping on the boat, I decided to let the waves carry me so I could at least enjoy the beauty that the sea could offer. With the safety of the life jacket, I allowed the waves to lug me amidst the beauty that surround me.

Life is like that.

As we traverse life, we would encounter waves of tribulations that would toss and turn us around mercilessly until such time that we would find ourselves bereft of the will to fight. The boat represents the people whom we would try to cling on to in order to survive the ordeal. But, at the end, we really have nothing but the prayer, which is the life jacket that would help us.

As we allow the life jacket just to carry us through, then we would see the beauty hidden by the waves- the purpose and the lessons of the problems. We know that whatever happens, the life jacket would not allow us to succumb and get drowned with our sorrows.

Along the afflictions, the meaning is not lost. There would be bruises and scars, wounds that may never find mending, and pains beyond healing. However, the lessons will be carved forever in the heart.

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