..What made me say Yes..

(c) Psychologytoday

The long wait was over.

It's been months of planning. Days of meetings. Changes that almost cracked the brain of both parties. Patience tested in most daunting ways.

I finally said Yes.

Not to wedding bells but to the Blue Print of our little kitchen.

It's a dream for me and my sister to finally have our little home renovated.

But that didn't come easy.

We went through a lot of pains. And when I say a lot, that almost costs more than our 6-figure budget.

I'm a type of a person who's cynical with almost everything. And winning my trust is like a jackpot prize in Lotto. So when I say I trust you, you're an instant millionaire (from a non-materialistic point of view). 

It started smooth from planning over a cup of coffee and simple dinner to a point of settling everything to the smallest details. Given my meticulous queries every now and then, my sister and our Architect are just waiting for my go signal.

But the inevitable happened. To cut the story short, it didn't went the way it was planned. Everything was put on hang. I can feel the friction every time Robz and I are conversing. Which is not a normal occurrence between us.

One day, while I was waiting for the bus, I sent a message to my sister. "Yes, proceed with the renovation".

That night before I said my yes, I remember how Robz left her office and all her pending works just to attend with the meeting(s) for the Blue Print. How she sacrificed her weekend serving the ministry for all the tasks I put on her shoulder. How she traveled from traffic jam so as not to missed the flight to Bacolod. How she remained composed with all my nags from end to end.

Is it worth to exchange my relationship with my sister over the dream we both planned together? And what about realizing the plan, yet, losing the person you build the dream with?

I can't afford. 

I set aside my own emotions. How angry and disappointed I was with our Engineer. I'm sure he'll have a torn tympanic membrane with my "soft" feed backs. But I chose to remember what Robz said to me. "Choose peace by loving".

I did.

And the feeling was liberating.

When I get home and would spend coffee in the kitchen, I will not remember the pains of how it was built. 

I'll remember the warmth it taught me.
And the reasons that made me say Yes.

Because LOVE is Learning to Overlook offenses and Valuing the person's importance Explicitly.

Ok, let's restore the tympanic membrane ;)

To err is human.

To forgive is divine.

..Leaning on Sharp Points..

The harsh waves come one after the other as we neared the shore of a nearby island in Calaguas. It was mid day and the sunblock I applied before we left the "safe harbor", I reckoned, is not serving its purpose since my arms resembled a lot like zebra, the obvious partition of white and dark areas. But since I was persuaded that the nearby island is different from the rest of the Island's parts, we braved the waves, like our boat is passing the humps of the road.

My mind, as morbid as it can get, is back on its habit of predicting the world of what if's. What if the waves will turn our boat upside down? All my gadgets will dissolve in the heart of Calaguas. Passport included. My body included. And mom will never be able to see her cute (positive prediction) grandchildren from me.

We arrived safely (I whispered all the saint's names, for heaven's sake) to the mystical place where coconut trees are lined up in a manner that exudes a welcoming embrace, giving a sense of security that all is well. The contrast of pristine sand and gray stones are breathtaking I admit I'm incapable of putting it on my canvas. I noticed that the stones there are more finer, rounded, and smooth while the stones from where we left are more sharper, more edgy, and rougher you have to be extra careful not to cut your sole.

I sat for a moment on one of the fine stones, oblivious to the waves that incessantly slamming the stones. I rubbed my eyes so as not to missed any single chance of being enchanted by the moment. And as the sun kept flaunting its radiance, it made clear to me why the stone I'm sitting on is smoother.
Because the waves there are unforgiving. Harsher. Fiercer. 

In life, every "harsh wave" comes with a purpose. We will never understand the vernacular of Trust unless we came to a point of being lied to: willingly, consciously, and artistically crafted by people you have high hopes to do it the very least. It's harsh. It's fierce. It's like being taken away to the sea, only to be slammed back to the shore.
Imagine how it hurts. Imagine how it cut through.

But imagine, too, if it doesn't hurt. And it doesn't cut through.
Will you be smoother? Or rounder? Or finer?

God knows we'll be hurt. He knows we'll cry tears-buckets of it. He knows we'll be scorched to bits. And it's not a surprise to Him.
Because the finest stones went through the most harsh waves.
Because the people who have "most" in life has undergone "the most" in life too.

Is life so unfair? Lean on the part that hurts the most. Lean on the point that is the sharpest. Lean on the waves that are the harshest.

He makes a finer man out of rough edges.

"The stone of which the builders rejected has become a cornerstone".-Psalm118:22

Goodnight.

..The "Lazaru's Phenomenon"..

Photo taken at Baylon Temple, Cambodia

.."and Jesus wept"..

Everyone was startled when she was admitted to our Unit. Serving the hospital for how many years, it was a surprise when she became the patient. Intubated directly due to decrease level of consciousness, I can still remember her voice when I got an almost close argument with her. 

Pronounced to be unresponsive to any stimuli, it broke everybody's heart.

I remember her when I attended the symposium on Deceased Organ Donation. Talking about brain dead, it's difficult to believe though I am working in medical field, apart from all the discussions of the body's every bone, muscles and nerves, that the person is considered dead if: 1) there's no spontaneous breathing and 2) there's no brain activity. 

Stirring my cup of Espresso, I want to blurt out' "but how about the heart? How could one die if it's still beating?". I could hear my own heartbeat. Probably because of the strong caffeine content of my drink. Or the opposition of my mind to the idea of brain over heart. But the speaker is unstoppable clearing issues of a well-research presentation. "Human being is dead when the brain is dead. Reflexes are present due to lateral circulation."

Reflexes.

I remember their story about her when it was decided that she will be an organ donor. 

No brain activity. Heart beat's due to medicines. Breathing through the ventilator.

Tears escaped from her eyes. 

The eyes that never reacts to light. 

Or to pain.

Her leg moved.

But science says it was just a Reflex.

She died with her heart still beating.

Could it be possible?

Yes.

Happiness dies when one forgets to let go of the baggage of the past, the fear of the future, and the anxiety of the present.

Simplicity dies when we allow material things to define the worth of our living.

Service dies when money takes high precedence over fulfillment.

Hope dies when prayer becomes the last option and not the first.

Relationship dies when someone started to look after her self-interest and not of the other.

Love dies when one forgets why she loves.

Life, then, is slowly drifting away from a beating heart.
That's when we face our tomb.

When anguish creeps and our pain is overwhelming, God, too, is weeping. 

But noticed that Jesus did not stop from there. He did not kneel and roll on the ground and cry all day. He did not saved the tears and put it in the glass and cry again until He fills it.

He was quick to pray to the Father.

He was quick to believe that even in the most impossible, smelly, and darkest tomb, there will come out Lazaru.

Whatever kind of "tomb" you are going through, He is calling you just like how He called Lazaru to life.

"Lazaru, come out".