..Date Over Coffee Mocha..

I set my alarm at 3:30 pm and went to bed with the bizarre feeling. Not so long, I was awaken by the noise that signaled me to stretch some muscles and get myself ready. I enthusiastically went to the bathroom and open the shower. I got a chill, not because our heater took sometime to do its job, but because today I'll be out on a date. I shampooed my hair briefly and disregard the conditioner. I don't want to missed the bus and stood the one waiting for me. I wore a white long sleeve because winter is definitely felt here in the East. I didn't mind putting make-up firstly because I do not know how. Besides, my date for today is not choosy. Instead, I just lavished ample amount of moisturizer on my face, enough as not to mistaken it as a frying pan. I grabbed my flats, careful not to make noise since my room mate is salivating from her sleep (sorry Sunshine, you have to prove me wrong in writing this,hihi) My hair is not even fixed, I just have it as is. I always want to wear a natural good-morning-from-bed look. As what I've said, my date is not that choosy.

I rode the bus, excited to be at the place where we will meet. I figured out how to open a topic, since this is the first time I'll be doing this. Besides, it's been a while since I went out on a date. I stepped out from the bus, hurried off to the coffee shop. I silently walked in, and I got the impression that this afternoon was solely created for a cozy encounter. I'm the only customer occupying the space, and for the meanwhile, I ordered a cup of coffee mocha and plain donut. I sat on the corner and laid the Gratitude Journal I brought with me. By the way, it has always been my silent companion. But mind you, it talks the loudest the moment you start reading it. Moments later, there was my date sitting in front of me. I cannot directly look at those eyes. I do not understand but I feel a bit, errr, awkward. He started to gaze at me, same familiar eyes. I tried to shift away from the gaze because of couple of guilts running my mind. I'm honest of my unfaithfulness. He understand. And I blushed. I open the cup and stirred the coffee mocha, my date watching me, smiling from time to time. He's happy I wasted the afternoon on the empty coffee shop. There's not so much exchanged of words but we are communicating. I felt the happiness I always been wanting to have. I looked at the blooming flowers from the oval garden, they are at their best. The sky is slightly changing hues, and I know sunset is at its brink of saying hello. He was still on the opposite chair while I marvel on the beauty that becomes suddenly extraordinary. I tried to close my eyes forcefully, because tears blur my sight. I was in control not to let it fall. I don't want to give a lunatic impression to the In-charge of the shop. I started to sip the beverage, holding it carefully since the air condition inside made me shiver. I rested the cup and looked at my date. I realized how much I miss the moment, to be with someone who understands my silence. To just let me be whatever I want to be. He missed me even more, I can tell. I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth grasping my sweating hands. I was not only held, I was embraced. I savor the moment, with sore in my heart how I've been missing such a beautiful emotion. I was held tight, reassuring in nature, not even a blame was uttered. I was just held.

Soon, I open my teary eyes. The chair is now vacant. I'm still the only customer in the shop. But I'm not alone. There's so much love filling my heart I do not know how to contain it. I opened my Gratitude Journal. I merely understand what I'm writing down. It seemed that my hands have a heart of their own. Lying open beside the sugar pouch and stirrer, I read what I wrote: I dated God over a cup of Coffee Mocha. (smiley included).

P.S.

Because God cannot eat the extra donut I ordered for Him, it was delivered to somewhere else..Hot choco included=)

 I found the utmost joy in my ordinary corner. Thank you God for wasting Your time on me. Let's do this often. A date over a cup of Cappuccino some other time maybe=) I love you!

..the kind of love..

When my sister and I were still kids, we were sickly. I remember the days when our grandmother and auntie would take turns in bringing us to the doctor. We have this formed habit though that whoever of us is sick would sleep with our Lola. It seemed that her bed had therapeutic claim that whoever lay down on that surface will get well. It's as though her hands have that warmth that when it touches your forehead, you believe the fever will not stay long. The milk that she would provide you before going to bed seemed to have a magical spell you'd think it's exclusively manufactured for a sick you. We would sleep then in peace, knowing that her eyes never wanders around and that you are being watched round the clock. Words are not always spoken in between but you know she had said it very well. This is the kind of love that we often receives when we are sick. 

One night in 1996, our house was ravaged with storm. I'm suffering then with high grade fever because of tonsillitis and ear infection. The roof of our house I feared would be stripped and water starts to come in. My grandmother wrapped me with blanket, cradled me on her lap while I was clinging on her arms. I fell asleep despite the storm brushing our windows and doors. I am reassured that as long as she's holding me tight, I am safe and no kind of storm can harm me. This is the kind of love that pacified me.

I was once a fool, too. Falling in love, believing in happy endings, at a price too high to pay. I made decisions without using my conscience and ended up straining relationships. I asked myself if this is the kind of love I'd be happy with. And you know what, if you are at the brink of longing to find answers out of your deepest emotions, you'll know that no matter how hard it is, God is giving you enough courage to make the wrongs right. This is the kind of love I want to live with. The kind that will make you grow in faith and directs you to your purpose, the one that gives you peace knowing that it feeds a good person in you, the one that makes you accept and love both the ugly and beautiful you, the one that makes your heart cherish the ordinary things right at your sight; and they become invincibly extraordinary,  and the one that makes you fall in love all the more with the Author of Life. This is the kind of love I'll die for. 

Everyday, we are facing different silent storms in life. Disappointments, betrayal, missed opportunities, unanswered prayers, failing and losing, the list goes on. Finding love then becomes difficult. We become too weary, We become exhausted. We become too fearful. But God, just like my grandmother,   grabs the blanket at once, wraps you in comfort and encircles His arms around you. So that no matter how lashing the storms inside and outside of you, you'll fall asleep knowing that no harm can reach the strands of your hair. Allow God to cradle you on His lap. Cling on His arms no matter what storm you are facing now. This is the kind of love that God offers. And the good news is, it's FREE.

 I look at the people around me. Their smiles and struggles, their worries and difficulties. I know how wounded the world is, for I am counting myself as one. Of all the wants and desires I have in my heart, this echoes the most: I want to be their kind of love.=)

..not much for a gift..

My sister is also a photo enthusiast. In fact, she can capture simple scenes and turn it explicitly special by just using her iPod I gave her last holidays. She often would say that she wanted to have a DSLR and I pretended not to hear (just to somehow prolong her agony..you'll know why so keep on reading). Days passed and she would upload her captures in her Facebook account. I pretended not to see until I have no choice since one day she asked me "Sis, have you seen the pics I recently uploaded? " I love her that I cannot let the moment passed by without appreciating her efforts. "Yes, saw the pics and they're really heart-warming". And the subtle emotional manipulation would set in when she starts to say "It's only an ordinary camera". Nyay!=)

She never stopped doing the things she really love. And I, watching from afar, could not stand but smile because by prolonging her agony in waiting, I come to prove that she has a knack on Inspirational Photography , a passion aligned to her conviction in letting others see Jesus in simple ways she knew and in serving others through the work of her "ordinary camera".  She was even able to submit entries that were used for an article for Kerygma Magazine, one of the country's widely read  Catholic inspirational magazines. The long wait is over when I cannot contain my own excitement in giving her the desire of her heart. Months before she turned 26, she finally acquired a high end DSLR, more expensive than the one I own. I would admit that it's a bit costly that I thought there was a built-in magnet from my pocket the moment I started to pull the whole amount so she can have her dream camera. But because my love for my sister outweighs the amount of the DSLR, it's not much for a gift.

Looking at the smile on her face and the "thank you Manang Kim" whenever I would check how her new toy is, I know that the amount of money I spent is worth it all. I know that it would be use on the right purpose and intentions. In keeping her waiting, she developed the patience to progress her work, to persevere when it seems to be a "no", to keep on propelling knowing that God's time is always the best time. I believe that God thinks that way, too. He sees the desire of our hearts from afar. We might think that He's pretending to be deaf and blind for keeping us waiting for what we really want.  In those silent moments when we believe that He does not hear or see, it is in those moments He wants us to search in our hearts that what we are asking for is aligned to His purpose for us. That nothing, even an unsaid wish, escapes from His generous and forgiving heart. Sometimes, we think we are asking too much that we mistaken  silence as "no". That a delay is a sign to stop asking. Well, if I cannot contain my own excitement to give what I know will make my sister happy, how much more the good Lord who is faithful in all things to His beloved?

What we desire is not much for God to give.

Because He's a natural Giver. 

Just look at the Cross.

Is it not much for a gift?=)

..touched by a stranger..

This world is full of miracles that is waiting to be unveil, felt and experience by human existence. The depths of how we are to go on living is something beyond our grasp to worry about everyday. We live with close encounters with many shapes, different shadows and hues, perspectives that outline our purpose, and light that illuminates our soul. How many of these do you recognize?

I started my job as a nurse at 21. Everyday, I would travel for an hour with three stops to reach the hospital. One afternoon, I am waiting for the public utility vehicle passing by our subdivision. I'll be on an afternoon shift duty that day and I fear that with the waiting minutes that went by, I'll end up late at work. I walked furthermore and reached the entrance of  our subdivision, and waited for another minutes of no assurance. With the sun scorching my newly pressed white uniform, I started to use my handkerchief to dry the building sweats. A car stopped at my front, a woman on her late 70's opened the window shield and told me to come inside the car. I was hesitant since we were told not to entertain strangers. I smiled at her, trying not to be a slob to refuse a gracious offer from an old woman. But she was persistent and  to make the story short, we traveled together. I can smell the leather of her car, and I was right to conclude that it's brand new (I'm a lucky chick since birth). She introduced herself. She said she's been passing by everyday to our subdivision. She's been serving the Home for the Aged foundation near our place for years now. That afternoon was the first time she saw me and said she's not hesitant with a stranger. I cannot explain why but there's something in her genuine tone that made me spill the beans of my personal life to her. How my sister and I grew up fatherless and how we survived to become what we are at the moment of our  conversation. I am stilled and quieted, having felt the strong connection to someone I never had encountered in the past. I found solace in her words, the wisdom that reflects from the white strands of her hair. Though I cannot remember the rest of  the conversation, I cannot forget how she made me feel closer to heaven. "God has a purpose". 

That was one of the most heartfelt conversation I had with a stranger, a hitch-ride that taught me that if you believe in the inner goodness of a person without knowing her name, her work or her position in society, you're making her feel better about herself and in return, she does what is good. To return the favor to Mrs. Jacintos, a stranger I've known in time I know was set in God's timeline, I am trying to be at least a beautiful stranger to someone else. If my heart is not telling a lie, I guess I recognize that Jesus knows how to drive a leather seat car=)

..the swivel chair laughed at me..

It was Friday and we were blessed enough to have a one-digit census; not so likely for the ward that caters 24 patients or more. It was a peaceful day, the sun outside shines happily as if it will never have a chance tomorrow again to marvel at the sky. I started my notes early, and yawning from once in a while. That's the irony of having a low census; you look for adrenaline rush you used to deal with everyday. I made a quick rounds again and positioned myself on the cozy swivel chair, still yawning upon seeing the clock that seems so slow in doing its job. When you are accustomed of always being on the go, it's a toil sitting still and waiting for something for your hands to work with. I looked at the clock again, with my eyes getting narrow out of being somewhat irritated not having anything to do. I cannot finish the lines in my nurse's notes. The lack of pressure from time constrained led me to procrastination. So there I was, whining of slow ticks of time. Not until the afternoon came and so my admissions did. One after the other, with all the procedures here and there. The pins from my braided hair is at the brink of giving up it nearly fell off from my once neatly tied hairdo. I dragged the swivel chair aside so it may not block the way I'm getting things done. It turned out that the clock seemed to speed up from its pleasant job I wanted to show it that traffic lights consist of RED light. The more that I gazed to its hands, the more my heart seemed to pump harder. It's almost endorsement time, and my notes were left clean and span--I haven't finish any file.

I grabbed the swivel chair to the pantry, did my notes in extended period of time and avoided to see the clock at the wall. Though I controlled my fits of gazing at it, I can feel the coldness of the swivel chair left unused for quite sometime. Now that I'm sitting at it, I'm feeling the comfort I was not able to appreciate earlier when everything was smooth and easy. When I have all the ample time to make things done without sweat. 

Sometimes time stand still, allowing us quiet hiatal periods to see and feel the things around us. But because the world's noise has taken us to be accustomed to restlessness, quiet moments are taken for granted. We want to rush time, we want to rush things. But God is delaying the ticks of the clock to slow us down, to enable us to listen with an open heart. Because it is in those times He wants to speak with us. And it took the swivel chair to laugh at me to realize these.

What are you restless of?