Life and Movies

Life isn't like the movies. Life, and love, is harder in real life than they are in movies. In cinema, the guy always gets the girl and they set off into the sun, holding hands without a care of the world around them. They are happy, and no antagonist or cruel witch can ever destroy that happiness. Everything is possible in cinema. A poor lumberyard laborer gets the rich, affluent girl of his dreams even though years after their summer love, she’s already set to marry a lawyer from an old Southern rich family. Two bookstore owners hate each other in person but falls in love over the Internet. A young lady spending the summer in a holiday camp with her family falls in love with the dance instructor and they had the time of their lives.

            I’ve always been in love with cinema. Ever since a little girl, I’d look forward to movie dates with my parents. Every Christmas day, we would watch film fest entries. I’ve daydreamed of writing and directing my own movie based on some real people I met in my life. My life, or some parts of it, even unfolded like a movie scene right in front of my eyes. Some in color, some in black and white. Some ended abruptly, like a bad movie you would want to be refunded for, while some lasted more than the usual 1 hour and a half run time of a movie. A few chapters even ran longer than the longest Lav Diaz film.

            Having an eidetic memory does not seem to help at all. Every pain, every bit of sadness I’ve ever experienced can sometimes be like a movie projected reel by reel, frame by frame. Sometimes there would be a voice in my head that would shout “Cut!” while often times, the projectionist inside my head seems to fallen asleep while he projects that pain I have been through, making me relieve every bit of pain involved in those memories. It’s harder on those days that used to have a significant meaning for me. Like the day of a first date with a guy I really fell for. Or the day I fell in love with someone. Or, the day my boyfriend married somebody else. Most of those dates seem part of the whole movie entitled Gillian’s Past.

            In cinema, the guy would always arrive just in the nick of time. The words “too late” do not seem to be welcome in any romantic movie you will ever watch. The girl would try to leave, the guy would run to where she is, arrive in the nick of time to tell her he loves her and asks her to stay. In life, “too late” seems to be the norm. We’re too busy taking for granted the people who love us so much that when the time comes that they are gone, we realize how much they matter. Or how much we love them too. I should know. I’ve been “too late” more than once. Too late to realize I’m in love with a guy, too late to realize I’m taking someone for granted, too late to tell someone how I really felt.  And unlike a movie where you can always press rewind if you missed a scene, in life there is no rewind button to push when you’ve missed an opportunity to tell someone that you love them.

            Life isn’t like the movies. Life’s harder. Love is sometimes bitter. But unlike the movies, life continues on after 1 hour and a half. Life is much more dramatic, but much more colorful. And love, well, love is much more complicated in real life but much sweeter when you finally realized you want to spend the rest of your life with someone who loves you just the same.

random thoughts at 3 in the morning...

When I took this job last September, I stopped writing. And I miss that. When I was jobless, I had all the time in the world to sit down in front of the laptop, and conjure words from nowhere. My creative juices weren’t failing me. But the moment I sat down on that desk job, seems like the words just won’t come to me anymore. It’s not just the fact that I travel miles to go to work and to go back home that I did not have time to sit down in front of the computer and write. I tried. I even tried saving some words on my mobile phone while I’m on the road to work or home. But it just wasn’t there. The words seem to have left me and the inspiration to write seems to have left my soul. Ever since I was a kid, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, is that I want to be a published writer. Not the kind you see in movies who writes in coffee shops, looking at people and observing them while sipping a hot cup of Americano, and living a happy uncomplicated life. That’s not what I envisioned myself as a writer. I envisioned myself locking myself up in my room, all day typing the words and re-typing them, deleting words that don’t fit in, writing until it hurts and no longer a delight, and editing until my eyes hurt from looking at some of the errors I have made, emerging only when I have finished a brainchild.

But that never happened. Yes, I’ve had my fair share of writing for school publications from grade school to college, writing for company websites and blogging on my own website, I have never really finished a book. And that is what I have always wanted to do. Finish a book. Any kind of book. A novel, a semi-autobiographical piece, a fictional piece that revolves around a certain person I know. Any kind. But I want to be able to publish a book. I’ve tried. I’ve started writing a manuscript. And it revolves around a huge chunk of my life. Someone once said that the richest resource a writer has is his own life. With the numerous heartaches I’ve got throughout the years I’ve had relationships with the opposite sex, I thought I had all the resources I need. But it wasn’t easy writing about men who might be hurt by the things I have to say about them even if I hide their identity under fictional characters. I envy an ex-suitor of mine who has already published two books, and one of them has pieces about me. I wasn’t mad. I did not become mad. Because I know that there won’t be a soul who will know that he was writing about me, unless they know of our story.

Now, I have no excuse for not continuing the manuscript I have started because I have already resigned from that job. And while my husband is at my side, sound asleep and snoring, I found myself opening a word document to type my thoughts away. Mind you, I have just finished an episode of Pretty Little Liars, a show I am a bit addicted to, but at four in the morning, my mind is still wandering. Wondering if I still have the capabilities to finish what I started. Here I am, a newlywed 25-year old lady, munching on some snacks to keep me from getting hungry while contemplating if I should continue the story I have started to write, or write another one.  Ever since that rejection from a major magazine company, I have lost confidence in my ability to write. Though my two biggest fans, my mom and my husband, say I am good at writing and they know I will get published someday, I’m seriously starting to doubt that. It doesn’t help my confidence at all to be rejected four times in the past 3 years by the same major magazine for all the positions I applied for. I’m not hoping to be a Laida Magtalas who got a job as an editorial assistant and bagged the heart of his boss as the major grand prize (and plot of the movie). I’m just hoping to be able to write and be published by starting from the lowest position in any publication group. But Lady Luck was not on my side. At least not yet, I hope.

A few commendations on a short piece I posted on my Facebook wall about Tim Duncan brought in some much needed push to bring out my writing pen again and start letting the words flow in. The Spurs Nation fan page even commended it as a well written post.

 “Spurs Nation You hit the nail on the head with this Gillian, excellently written – JT”

So, should I try to finish this manuscript I have been putting on hold for quite some time now? The thought of it being finished makes me nervous. What if, it gets finished but gets rejected by publishers? What if, no publishing house in the country would accept it? What if, some really good writers I admire tell me it is full of rubbish? What if.

Every time I try to finish it, I get scared. Blame my lack of confidence on my writing skills on someone who once told me I’m not good in writing. And maybe I never really got over that blow. It is always at the back of my head every time I try to add more pages to the work I have started. Then whenever I get scared, I remind myself of this scene from one of my favorite TV shows from the US, Criminal Minds. It was from their Pilot episode entitled Extreme Aggressor. On that particular scene, one of the members of the BAU (Behavioral Analysis Unit) needs to crack a password for the UnSub’s laptop. UnSub is their term for Unknown Subject, a suspect or unknown criminal that they are looking for. If they don’t get to crack the password, they might never find the missing girl. The BAU member, Derek Morgan, only has a few tries left. Their unit chief, Jason Gideon, tries to motivate him.

“Jason Gideon: Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

Dr. Spencer Reid: Samuel Beckett.

Derek Morgan: Try not. Do or do not.

Dr. Spencer Reid: Yoda.”

Fail again. Fail better. Some of us have tried and failed. Some have tried again and have failed again. But have we failed better? Have I failed better?

---

P.S. As of writing this, my manuscript still remains untouched. But tomorrow, or should I say later because it’s now 3:53 AM, as soon as I wake up I will continue writing my manuscript. Everyone who believes in my work and have said praises about it have given me the much needed boost to continue. Thank you. J

The Battle

The earth is one big battle field made up of different big or miniscule battlefields in different places around the world. The school is one big battle arena wherein only those strong enough to survive the bullies emerge. One's workplace is another battlefield one must conquer to be able to survive. Even love is a battlefield. And everyone is a warrior, wearing different sets of armour and sporting different set of weapons every now and then.

    My world has always been a battlefield. From the moment I started schooling until I graduated from college up to the time I started every single job I had since I ventured into the professional world. Even love really was a battlefield. I fought, I slew, I got scathed, I was slain, I surrendered. But love and its constant battles can really get into one's skin and leave a tattoo. A scar that is so permament one can no longer have it removed even if one would go through hell and back just to seek a way to remove it.

    I've been through hell and back. In order to save myself from all the pain, I ventured into the dark realms of hell and would always emerged scathed yet stronger than before I went there. Since the concept of romantic relationships were introduced into my system, 21 men have come and gone with different motives and reasons for leaving. Some left and made a cut nastier than the others. Others simply left, without any explanation, without any word thus leaving a wound that was never fully healed. Others simply gave up fighting the love battlefield with me. Different men, different relationships but nonetheless, all of them leaving a permanent scar, a wound that pushed me each time to go to hell and back.

    When someone shouted to me, "You don't know what I've been through just to get over him!", I wanted to slap that girl, knowing that the relationship she was talking about was just her first heartbreak. I wanted to shout back at her and tell her, "You don't know the hell I've been through to fix myself all these years!" just to show her how my heart has been hurt more than the pain she had experienced. Hell wasn't even sufficient enough to be used in the situations I've been through just to get over all of them. Making pacts with the devil just to regain my strength after every heartbreak wasn't exactly a walk in the park nor was it a bed of roses. And pacts I made just to temporarily fix myself until the next jerk comes breaking me again. One heartbreak over a guy she was in a relationship with for a few years can never really sum up greater than my 21 heartbreaks and heartaches combined. Oh, the nerve to tell me hers was greater! Throwing one's self over to a guy who barely even cared, more so love her wasn't anyone's fault but hers. Same as some of my heartbreaks. But one thing I learned from everything, those heartbreaks and heartaches caused by someone who loved you was greater than the pain caused by those who did not. In letting go of those jerks who did not really love you at all, you free yourself of a stupidity you committed, while in letting go of those guys who loved you as much as you loved them, you are freeing yourself of a once in a lifetime love you feel for that person, and of the person you once were when you were with them. In my case, it was letting go of the ones that really loved me that broke my soul more than any other pain caused to my heart.

    Sinag. A ray of sun. I once called someone by that term of endearment. He was like a ray of sun filling up my life in a time when I was already bored of gray-clad hallways and dusty rooms filled with chairs with almost broken armrests. Having been in a number of relationships before Sinag, I thought I knew everything about love. But he proved me wrong, and our love story painted a whole new picture in my head I never knew I could paint. Most of the college professors back then tell me that they were fans of our love story. A guy and a girl from two totally different religions, trying to make the differences work for our advantage. It was such a good relationship wherein we give, and we take. Of all the guys I've been with, he was the only one I submitted to without him asking me to. He would not do the things I dislike, and I would do the same to him. One professor even commented, "You were at your best when you were with each other." Indeed, I was at my best. My grades were on the top of the class, with no failures and only one grade below 85. He was, for the first time since he enrolled in school, attending classes regularly and without a miss. But people say, good things must come to an end. And a relationship like ours ended sooner than I expected. One day, he had gone to school a little late than his usual time and went to search for me. By the look on his face the moment I saw him, I new darker times were ahead. Could his parents have known about us? Could my mom have found out about us and threatened him? Those are some of the questions that plagued my head at those few seconds he was walking towards me. The news he gave me was totally unexpected. Here is the man I have loved and given my life and soul to, telling me that he will be married soon. Married to a girl he doesn't love. Married to a girl from the same religion as him, from the same social strata as their family. Married to another girl. Married to someone not me. At that moment, I felt my whole world start to crumble right in front of my very own eyes. There in front of me, is my whole world being snatched away by religion and traditions I can never fight with. My armour started to rust, and my sword felt like lead in my hands. The mighty warrior princess, his princess, was starting to die on the inside of her armour. That day, the heavens were pouring out their tears. It was raining beyond cats and dogs, a sign I took as the heavens crying over one real love ending because of religion and tradition. Days passed and I wallowed in self-pity and depression. Gone is the warrior in me. I would still see him in school and he would still spend most of his time with me. But the relationship has already been scathed. Spending time with me until his wedding day was his way of dealing with the inevitable, while I spend time cooking my heart out in my culinary classes. I was broken, hurt, and in pain and he chose to be nonchalant about it. Or that's what it looked like for me. Until one day, he decided to wear his armour  again and pick up his sword. He decided that he is fighting. Fighting for me. But that fight was short-lived. He had to give it up for my safety. I fought back, telling the world I don't care if I die but I will fight for his love. The love I know will never leave his heart until his dying day. I fought back until I can no longer fight back. I fought back until I can no longer protect and defend myself from the inevitable destruction that was looming over. The day I gave up was the day he tied the knot. I fought hard until the last second, until the minute he was entering the wedding venue. I fought, I fought until I can no longer fight. He got married and got himself two kids. And now, years after that last battle we fought together, thinking of him can only bring a smile, none of the pain and hurt I used to feel back then. None of the heartache that pushed me to make a pact with the devil just so I can have my old self back.

    Antukin. That was a title of a song that took the airwaves like a storm a few years back. That is also what I called a man who came into my life and took it by storm. I fell in love so fast and I fell hard. He was the epitome of perfect. Everything about him looks perfect in my perspective. But just as swiftly he came, swiftly he left. I don't know if he ever got to know how much I love him and how much I hurt when he left but I guess he will never know. This was one battle I never won, and one battle I can never win. His heart is one trophy that could never be mine, nor will it ever be mine. It has already been claimed, I think. Claimed long before I came into his life, claimed before I even rallied to claim it. "tadhana'y merong trip na makapangyarihan, kung ayaw may dahilan, kung gusto palaging merong paraan... pinaiyak ka ng manghuhula, hindi na raw tayo magkasamang tatanda. buti na lang merong langit na nagtatangol sa pag-ibig na pursigido't matiyaga." as the song puts it. It wasn't the fortune teller who made me cry. It was the person who sang me this song before he boarded his flight to Doha one sunny June day. The lyrics was right. We won't be growing old together. Not because I did not want to, but because he already knew from the start that his home is not with my heart. Doning my armour, I fought back. I wanted to end up with him. But I found myself one day retreating. I found myself under an office desk, crying my eyes out. And more of those crying bouts followed as I saw how happy he is with a life without me on it. But I wouldn't shed my armour. Crying, I went back to the field and shouted to everyone who would listen, "I want him back!" After 2 months of crying and shouting my heart out, he came back. He came back only to leave again. That kind of battle went on for a few months until, a few days before my 21st birthday, he left and never returned. Of all my dances with the devil, the one that happened after he left was the hardest. Not because the moves where complicated, but because my heart wasn't into it. I was forcing myself to get back my old self, the one I had before I met him but my heart wasn't fully into it. I fought, and fought hard to have him back. My dance with the devil ended with my heart badly bruised than ever before, and my soul ripped apart. What transpired after was totally out of my control. Or so I thought. Guys came into my life and I felt like I was slowly regaining my old self again. What I noticed though, in the months after I left them, or they left me is that, in each one of those guys, there was a part that reminded me of him. The hair, the physique, the musical skills, the gentle demeanor, the likes and dislikes. Months after he left and everything in my world still seem to revolve around him. I took this as a result of him leaving without even bothering to tell me why he is leaving but I never took it as a result of me not wanting to move on. That moment I realized that it was a result of me not wanting to move on, I fought. I fought with myself. I threatened the girl in the mirror so she would stop holding on and start letting go. My battle with myself took me to a point of desperation that took me to a place called Calvary. I've been here before, at this small hill to lay down my sins and disappointments and heartaches. Never have I thought that I would be back again, this time with a burden heavier than the heartaches I laid down before at the foot of that cross at the top of the hill. Putting down my sword at the foot of the hill, I made my way up to where the cross was situated, with every step killing me. It was a harder climb than before, with my heart heavier than ever. I did not want to lay it all down there this time. I don't want to surrender my battle for his heart here. I wanted to go on, to fight until my last day on earth. But something divine interfered and whispered, "Enough. You have suffered enough. Let me fight the rest of the fight for you." So at the foot of the cross on the top of the hill, I laid it all down. My heartache, my love for him, and every single question I have in my head. Memories of Antukin will finally be put to sleep.

    BEST. After all those battles I fought for love, I never really thought that one day, when I have already put down my armour, that real love at its best would find me. In a day I least expected to be found by pure, unconditional, once-in-a-lifetime love, I was found. From warrior princess to someone's only princess and soon to be queen, my life has changed from black and white to colorful. After all the heartaches, heartbreaks, bruised egos, and one ripped soul that is mine, the future looked like a rainbow in the sky. Here I am, after fighting the battles of my heart, finally getting ready to end my year with a new surname, and a new home. Though the road that led me to this path was a hard, twisted, rugged one, I know that this path leads to my heart's home. And I'm never going back to where I used to be.

(photo from Google search. That's Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, also the Goddess of War when she's Minerva)

FORGIVING...

"I forgive the tears I was made to shed,
I forgive the pain and the disappointments,
I forgive the betrayals and the lies,
I forgive the slanders and the intrigues,
I forgive the hatred and the persecution,
I forgive the blows that hurt me,
I forgive the wrecked dreams,
I forgive the stillborn hopes,
I forgive the hostility and jealousy,
I forgive the indifference and ill will,
I forgive the injustice carried out in the name of justice,
I forgive the anger and the cruelty,
I forgive the neglect and the contempt,
I forgive the world and all its evils." -Aleph by Paulo Coelho (page 156-157)

Paulo Coelho writes about his own self and the people he meets in this lifetime, and in his other lifetimes. I do the same. I write about the people I've met, had relationships with, or those who simply touched a nerve or an emotion in me. Since I started going back to writing a manuscript a couple of months ago (the first one I wrote while I was in college is now lost in my old PC's busted hard drive that I can't access anymore), all I ever wrote about was a certain guy. My friends call him THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY. I call him, THE ONE WHO NEVER SAID GOODBYE. After reading Paulo Coelho's Aleph, I was at a lost. For certain, I know I don't love the guy anymore. I am in a happy and healthy relationship with the man I know God has made to be mine. So why is there this unexplainable feeling that has something to do with the one who never said goodbye?

My Bible says there is no other lifetimes than the one I'm living now. That there is no such thing as getting reincarnated into a cockroach if you don't do well in this lifetime. But why am I thinking, "What if, in another lifetime, he also left me without even saying goodbye? Should I fix it in this lifetime?"

I never wanted to finish reading Aleph. First few chapters and I already know it's going to be just like Eat Pray Love all over again. Eat Pray Love got me. It got me crying in my sleep. It even got me crying alone inside the moviehouse when I went to watch the movie alone. Yes, I watched it alone because I didn't want anyone seeing me cry over a Julia Roberts movie about finding one's self across three countries. The time I was reading the book, I already knew that the movie will make me cry. I watched it anyway. I guess you can call me a sucker for hurting myself. The first few chapters of the book Eat Pray Love made me want to throw it across the room, not because it was poorly written or something but because of all the names she can use, it has to be the name of the guy who never said goodbye. Could it be fate or some random circumstance that these 2 books (Eat Pray Love and Aleph) that were given to me by friends should remind me of him? With Eat Pray Love, I never got an answer. With Aleph, I did.

I asked myself, why is he the subject of my writings? Why is he always the protagonist/antagonist in the short stories I write? And why is he still the sun of my literary universe? Is it because I believe he is the one that got away and that all my literary works should be about him? Or is it because a part of me is still hurting because I cannot love him? Or is it because a part of me is still hurting that he cannot and will never love me the same way I loved him? Aleph gave me one simple answer but the truest of all the answers I've heard from a lot of people and books I've read.

I HAVE NOT FORGIVEN. Forgiven myself for falling in love with him and allowing myself to get hurt and forgiven him for leaving me stranded a number of times and never saying goodbye. My most favorite definition of the word FORGIVENESS is "giving up the right to hurt someone for hurting you" but I never really relinquished that right when it comes to him. I still want to hurt him, to show him how much pain he caused me, and how much he messed up my heart. A big day is fast approaching come December and I can't afford for that day to finally come with excess baggage I can't seem to get away from. Everytime I try to throw away that baggage, it manages to creep up behind me, waiting for the next time to show up right infront of my face. What should I do then? Unlike Hilal in the book Aleph, I was never able to talk to the man who hurt me. In the book, Paulo met Hilal, the woman he loved five hundred years before, but whom he betrayed in an act of cowardice. They met, journeyed together towards forgiveness and finding peace with the past. I, on the other hand, am alone in this journey of finding peace with my past and finally finding forgiveness. Anyone can try to help me forgive but will never be really successful in doing so. Listening to songs that will remind me of him on the loop will never help either. Until I opened my Bible to a verse that speaks well of forgiveness. Matthew 18:21-35 speaks about The Parable of the Unmerciful Servant. It's last line says:

"unless you forgive your brother from your heart..."

Forgiving from the bottom of my heart. Easy to say, but never easy to do. I grew up always getting even when someone offended me or angered me or hurt me. But this time, it's different. Forgiving him is not something I'm doing only for myself. It's something I'm doing for myself and for the man I love. Reading the Bible verse reminded me that in the past, I have turned my back on my first love, my unconditional love, the one great God who went down from His throne in heaven to forgive me of my sins and to restore me to eternal life with Him. I hurt Him, caused Him pain, yet He went down His throne to forgive me and to love me just the same as if I have never caused Him any pain. For the first time in my life since the early morning December 5, 2009 (the last time I saw him and talked to him in person), my heart is at ease, at peace. It took me this long to realize that moving on doesnt only mean freeing yourself from the love you once felt for a person, or pushing back the memories you both once made at the back of your memory storage so as not to be able to touch them again, or throwing away things that remind you of the person. Moving on should start and end with FORGIVING. Forgiving yourself, and forgiving the other person. Only then will you will finally be able to set each other free. For others, it takes a fraction of a second to forgive while for most of us, it would take months, even years to finally be able to fully, wholeheartedly forgive. It's never a walk in the park, this forgiving thing. For most of the time, it's like a rollercoaster ride. One day you feel like forgiving someone, while the next day you will feel totally the opposite. You might loathe the other person, or feel mad or angry the next. It is never the same feeling unless you forgive your brother from your heart just like what the parable says.

A Goodbye to a Great 2011... Hello to an Even Greater 2012!

2011 has just ended a few hours ago. 2012 has just started. Life in 2011 has been so great but I know 2012 will even be greater. :D So here's what happened in 2011:

*Ventured into renovating a bar out of nothing and friends helping. But then, I had to give it up to the real owners because they wanted to turn it into a cabaret again. When I left my job as Marketing and Events Officer at their restaurant, I left the bar too and decided to pursue my passions in life.

*Pursued my passions - Photography and Videography. Thank God for open doors because I was able to experience a lot in terms of both field. Thanks to Tootoots Leyesa for teaaching me and allowing me to shoot Mr. Noel Cabangon's album cover using his camera; thanks also to Jheng H. Abal for the tips in photography; to Wella Fan for the clients and stints you gave me; and most of all to Jeremy Sauza Cruz for the Canon 550d and for the lessons in Photography!

*Volunteered fulltime for Victory Christian Fellowship and Edited videos for them. Was so blessed to be a part of a new church family this year, the Communications Ministry of VCF Ortigas. They are such a warm bunch of people, true and not plastic. They will love you for who you are and teach you how to be a better Christian. To Papa Panda Wilbert Osiones, the father of the Communications Ministry Pandalets thank you for considering me one of your "guya" (anak/daughter/pandalet). To Lord Shen, Aren Adao,thank you for the trust in some of the projects we did and also for giving me the chance to be seen on TV. To Ate Jheng, thank you for the editing jobs and the hours we spent together in all the projects, lasting up to 1am or 2am at times. To Marielle Manahan, thank you for trusting me to do photography at the church events! To my Kapatid na Pandalets Alex, Cherry, MG, Wella, Jekka, thanks for the friendship! Looking forward to working more projects with all of you!

*Was welcomed by Pastor Marc Constantino at VCF Metro East. :D

*Mom got sick and was diagnosed with Adenomyosis with cysts in the uterus. She got operated and we spent a number of times at the hospital, first when she was already bleeding profusely, second was when a procedure called Biopsy was done and last was when they finally operated on her to remove the myoma and cysts in her uterus. Praise God, she's now okay. She was on leave from work for 2 months after the operation for recuperation but now, she's been able to go to school, go videoke sessions with her faculty friends, and she even got herself a brand new laptop wherein she can now do her school works PLUS play solitaire and just now before 2011 ended, she finally learned how to play Angry Birds!

*Got to meet and greet one of my favorite novelists NICHOLAS SPARKS. Jeremy lined up all morning for a signing pass so he can surprise me with it. For someone who was NEVER as in NEVER LUCKY with draws, that day, he got to draw a signing pass for me. So officially i was the 460th person to have a book autographed by Nicholas Sparks plus a photo of me with him. It was such an amazing surprise from God and him.

*Got to shoot an AVP for Jollibee, one of the biggest food chains in the country. Thanks to Imacron for choosing me to play a role in that AVP/Short Film.

*Got the new girl math whiz role of RIA in Knowledge Channel's Math Show K-HIGH. Thanks to Kuya Aren Adao for sending me casting information and for coaching me about things. Thanks to Never Ending Media Productions for trusting me with Ria's character! For a girl who was never really good in Math, in fact I almost flunked all my Math subjects all my life had it not been for the help of my classmates who were patient enough to help me with seatworks and those who tutored me for exams, having a Math show and being blessed financially by it is one great blessing I received.

*Had a new VG leader and she's one sweet and amazing woman! Thanks Ate Marielle for being there and for beings such a good listener. Thanks for all the advice, the sisterly love, and the happy times with your husband Kuya Mike! Thank you also to Kuya Mike for being a brother to me and Jeremy.

*Launched RED AND PURPLE CREATIVE STUDIO with the love of my life, photography and videography partner and boyfriend Jeremy Sauza Cruz. To all the clients who trusted us with their celebrations and events, you made my 2011 a fruitful and blessed one in terms of financial blessings!

*My birthday this year was a blast! My man organized the most amazing, most expensive birthday surprise ever for me. It was his first time to organize a birthday surprise for any girl for that matter and he was able to pull it through. Candlelight dinner at The Linden Suites (Suite 1703), then a surprise party with my friends at the same venue. Though most were unable to go because of the busy schedule that the Christmas season brought, it was still great. The best part was the fireworks display of Megamall seen entirely from the window of our suite.

*Got to know such an amazing family and I'm already excited to be part of that family. Tita Lhen, Jeremy, Jemy, Hannah, Jeth, Nanay, Tita Chat, Tito Jim, Jaimee and James. Thank you Tita Lhen for welcoming me into your family despite and inspite of.

*and the best part of 2011 - my boyfriend, my God's best, my foodtrip buddy, my photowalk companion, my business partner, my shoulder to cry on, my soon-to-be husband, my soon-to-be swimming instructor, my nurse whenever I get sick, my provider on those times that financial blessings are so tight and have not gone my way, my personal assistant on my shoots, my gig buddy, my co-music lover, my walking partner, and most of all, the love of my life Jeremy Sauza Cruz. Thank you for being such an amazing man! For being THE BEST in everything. Thank you for understanding my ever crazy moods and temper and for being a man who can lead me and tell me when I'm already being such a pain in the ass. Thank you for such an amazing love, a love I have never felt from any man in my entire life. I love you much! Much more than you can imagine! Looking forward to more years ahead as we walk together in the center of God's will.

and the GREATEST THANK YOU is for the GREATEST, the MOST WONDERFUL, MOST AMAZING, MOST GENEROUS, MOST LOVING, and MOST FORGIVING and MERCIFUL being in my life - GOD, JESUS CHRIST. Thank You for all the blessings - monetary, circumstances, events, people. And thank You for the unconditional love and never ending grace!

Happy New Year everyone!
Love,
Yani

24 things I want to accomplish next year...

Last December 17, I celebrated my 24th birthday. It was the best birthday ever thanks to my God's best Jeremy. He organized the best birthday surprise ever. As most people would write about the things they learned in the span of their existence, here I am writing about the things I wish to accomplish while I am still 24. Then when I turn, I'm going back to this list and see if I was able to accomplish all of these... :D

1. LEARN HOW TO SWIM AGAIN. I have this tendency to push back memories and skills I learned if it's somehow associated with an ex. Well, swimming is associated with my longest relationship before Jeremy. Jess, my ex bestfriend/boyfriend was a swimmer and all those 6 years we were best of friends, he was always trying to teach me how to swim. This year, I vow to take swimming seriously.

2. LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE GUITAR/PIANO/BASS. I wish to be able to learn how to play any of those 3 but I wish to learn how to play the bass most. I used to be able to play the guitar until, again as my memory would always do, when it's associated with an ex, I tend to forget the skill. This time, I know Jeremy will teach me and I won't forget.

3. LEARN HOW TO RIDE A BIKE.  Seriously, I'm 24 and I don't know how to ride a bike. When I was a kid, I would be taught by my dad how to ride the bike but I was too afraid to move forward because I was afraid I might crash and get nasty wounds. That time I still had dreams of becoming a beauty queen that's why I don't want to get my skin scathed. Hoping that this year, I finally get to learn how to ride the bike.

4. LEARN HOW TO DRIVE MANUALLY. I learned how to drive years ago but what I learned was how to drive an automatic car. So this time, I wish to learn how to drive manually.

5. TO COMPLETE MY NICHOLAS SPARKS COLLECTION. I have his novels The Bend in the Road, The Guardian, The Wedding, The Notebook, True Believer, and The Best of Me so far and I wish to complete my collection of his books. Hopefully I'll be able to complete them soon.

6. FINISH WRITING A BOOK. I've always dreamt of becoming a published author and before I turn 25 next December, I hope I get to finish this manuscript I've began, and to submit it to a publishing house. Hopefully, I get to be published at the age of 24! All in God's time.

7. TO FINALLY BE ABLE TO PUT INTO FILM THE STORY I'VE WRITTEN AS A SHORT FILM RELEASED ONLINE. I don't have the means to really produce a full-length short film and how it released elsewhere so I only wish to release it as an online video. Hopefully I get to shoot it soon!

8. TO BE ABLE TO SHOOT PHOTOS OF ANY OF MY FAVORITE MUSIC ARTISTS. Not just normal gig photos but I wish to have a real photoshoot session with any of my favorite music artists. I was already given the chance to shoot Mr. Noel Cabangon, under the watchful eyes of Tootoots Leyesa but I still want to add another feather in my cap. Rico Blanco? Bamboo? Urbandub? Parokya ni Edgar? Ely Buendia? Pepe Smith? Why not!

9. TO HAVE A PHOTO OF ME WITH SIR JOEY DE LEON. Oh yes, I'm a fan of the genius! And Mr. Joey de Leon is one of those I really see as a genius. So yeah, fan girl me wants a photo with him.

10. TO BE ABLE TO PHOTOGRAPH A KNOWN CELEBRITY. I wish for a known celebrity to be shot by my lens. Not just your usual stolen shots when you see them in the mall, but a real photo in a studio or location.

11. A TEN-DAY MISSION TO A MUSLIM COUNTRY. Yes, I have the heart for missions. Same as the heart of my man. We both have a heart for Muslims as well. So this year, I know, I'll be sent out. Cmon!

12. TO FINALLY GET TO TALK FACE TO FACE WITH THAT PERSON I REALLY WISH WOULD TALK TO ME IN PERSON AND CLOSE SOME CHAPTERS.

13. TO START AN ONLINE SHOP. What will I sell? That is yet to be revealed.

14. FOR RED AND PURPLE CREATIVE STUDIO TO GO FULL-THROTTLE. Red and Purple Creative Studio is my baby with Jeremy. It's our videography business and we specialize in creative wedding and debut videos. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Red-and-Purple-Creative-Studio/227986380607513

15. TO BE ABLE TO WRITE SOME LYRICS AND HAVE JEREMY MAKE THE MELODY. I am a writer and I love writing poems and lines and I wish to have one of my poems be made into a song. My ultimate wish? To be able to write a worship song.

16. TO GRADUATE FROM BIBLE SCHOOL.

17. TO HOST EVENTS AGAIN.

18. MORE TV SHOWS FOR ME AFTER K-HIGH.

19. TO FINALLY FORGIVE SOMEONE. Oh I know most of my friends know who that person is. Even my VG leader at church knows who that person is. Hopefully I get to forgive soon.

20. RANT LESS (OR NOT AT ALL) ON MY ONLINE ACCOUNTS. Easy to say, hard to do. But with God's grace, I hope to be able to accomplish this.

21. HAVE MY OLD AND BUSTED PHONE BE REPLACED WITH A BB. Oh yes I want a blackberry! It doesn't have to be the really expensive ones. I'm happily contented with a simple one. Just as long as I get to BBM my bestfriend Shine abroad as well as most of my friends. Oh and the last time I changed phones was March 2009. Don't you think it's about high time I change?

22. BUY A NIKKOR 50MM LENS FOR MY EVER RELIABLE BUT OLD D40. Oh yes, I just want a lens. Not a new unit. I'm happily contented with my d40. Plus, as soon as Leigh (Jeremy's and mine's Canon 550d) gets repaired, I have another unit when I have a photoshoot. :D

23.BE MORE MINDFUL OF MY WORDS AND MY TEMPER. Well, I've been trying hard for the past 20 years. Hopefully, there's a greater improvement this year.

24.  BE THE WOMAN THAT GOD WANTS ME TO BE. I just want to be more and more of who He wants me to be all the years of my life.


:D

It's the Simple Things in Life We Forget...

it's the simple things in life we forget...

you hear her talking but dont hear what she's saying

how could you make something so easy so complicated

searching for what's right in front of your face

but you can't see it...

-Usher

A lot of people right now have forgotten that simple things used to bring forth happiness. That the simple things in life are sometimes the most satisfying things in this world. In an era plagued by social networking sites, the world wide web, Apple products and Android phones, a lot of the things that used to bring us happiness and entertainment have slowly been neglected.

Kids nowadays spent more time making friends via the internet rather than going out of their houses and making friends with their neighbors. If you see kids nowadays in school, when they are on their breaks, they would usually be on their phones, iPods, iPads, laptops or any wifi connecting device facebook-ing away or tweeting away. Back in my childhood days, school breaks are spent chasing each other, playing hide and seek, Chinese garter, agawan base, tumbang preso, or patintero. Now the kids of today have lost interest in playing REAL games. They would just rather spend their time in front of a PC, playing online RPG games, Angry birds, or harvesting crops on Farmville. Gone are the days of bruised knees. 

People nowadays would rather download eBooks than going out to your favorite bookstore and getting a copy of the latest novel from your favorite author. For most people, it's easier and more economical to download books on the Internet. But what ever happened to the joy of flipping over a page (a real page made of paper for that matter), putting dog ears on the books you read, borrowing books from friends and sharing your book collection to others?

Technology may have made things easier for us yet it have also robbed us of the simple but REAL joys in life.

:D

"Mudblood" in Sports

(Mudblood in Harry Potter books refer to those half-blood witches and warlocks. Those born from a pure-blooded families and Muggles, a term used for non magic people.)

Recently, I posted a status on Facebook that says:

i miss the days when surnames like Buhain, Lucero, Muros, De Vega, and Velasco make the country proud whenever they win in the SEA Games or the Olympics. Nowadays, Filipinos are proud of those who win in the SEA Games whose surnames are Hodge, Ellis, Slaughter, and Parks. Now I have a glimpse of how Benjie Paras felt when he retired early from PBA because of the FIL-SHAM affair. Cant the country produce ALL FILIPINO WORLD CLASS athletes anymore?

and another one that says:

I'm not against half-pinoys playing here. It's just that there are a whole lot of Pinoy athletes who are not being given the chance to compete in the SEA Games because they don't have the MONEY to train and the capability to travel abroad. I hate to think that sports officials in the country would tend to rely on the GENES of other races that are in the bodies of those half-pinoys rather than the sheer talent and hard work of PURE Pinoy athletes. I dont think the country doesn't have a new Elma Muros in the making or a new Onyok Velasco or a new Paeng Nepomuceno.

These 2 Facebook statuses weren't the result of Dave Marcelo playing for the Sinag Pilipinas team. Most of my friends knew that I hated Beda winning the championship crown because their athletes are composed of Half-Americans, Half-Australians and a Pure blooded African. But it wasn't the main reason why I posted those status messages. Here's the reason why:

I miss the days when PURE BLOODED FILIPINOS make FILIPINOS proud. That when they see these Filipino athletes compete for the name of the country, they feel proud because they have the same skin color, same facial features, and same language. So what happened to the Philippine Sport scene?

Before, these athletes make us proud:

1. Elma Muros - Philippines' Long Jump Queen and Iron Lady. She won a total of 15 GOLD medals in the SEA GAMES. She also competed at the Olympic Games for the long jump event. STATUS: PURE PINOY

2. Lydia De Vega - Asia's fastest woman in the 1980s. Asia's Sprint Queen. Two-time Olympian. STATUS: PURE PINOY

3. Eric Buhain - Won a gold for the country at the SEA Games when he was just 15. In 1989, he broke one of existing SEA Games records for swimming. Several gold medals where attributed to his name in the SEA Games. STATUS: PURE PINOY

4. Bea Lucero - Won a bronze medal in the 1992 Olympic games for taekwondo. She won 2 golds and 3 silver medals for gymnastics at the 1987 SEA Games. STATUS: PURE PINOY

4. Miguel Molina - Two-time Olympian. Best Male Athlete, 2007 SEA Games. Philippine record-holder, 100m freestyle, 50m and 200m butterfly, and 200m and 400m Individual Medley. 7 Gold medals for the 2002 SEA Games. STATUS: PURE PINOY (P.S. both his parents are pure blooded Pinoys, he was born in Quezon City but they moved to Tokyo and he studied at Berkeley in the States)

5. Mansueto "Onyok" Velasco - Gold medal awardee 1994 Asian Games. Silver medalist, 1996 Summer Olympics, our only medal for that year. For the Filipinos, he is the rightful winner for that fight for the gold.  STATUS: PURE PINOY

Now, these are the ones who are making us proud:

Greg SLAUGHTER

Bobby PARKS Jr.

Clifford HODGE

Chris ELLIS

Do i hear or see Filipino surnames in any one of those athletes? 

What ever happened to those talented athletes from around the country? Those from the provinces who would survive the heat of the Palarong Pambansa just to compete in the sport that they love? They cannot compete with these FIL-AMS or FIL-SHAMS because they cannot buy the proper equipments and training gear for them to be able to fully use their talents the best way they can. They cannot even be trained by professionals because they cannot afford their fees. But I tell you, there are a lot of Pinoys out there who, given with the same amount of training and equipments, can win more medals for the country. 

Here's a link to a docu made by GMA 7's Sandra Aguinald about the younger swimming athletes of the country and how they lack a lot in terms of training and gear. You might be interested to watch and see what's lacking. http://youtu.be/oIJ8tvyUl4o

From Hero to Zero?

8 solid years of ball and his last game was a failure for most of the spectators. It wasn't a good way to end a collegiate career nor would it be how he would have planned to end his years as a Stag. His statistics for the Finals bout were 1 Rebound, 0 Freethrows, 4 Assists, 1 Steal, 0 Blocks, 6 Turnovers, 2 Fouls, 3 Field Goals, 1 3-pointer, and 2 2-pointers. Too bad for him, most people only care and remember the last basket missed, the last turnover, the last error, the last game lost, or in this case, the last championship crown we gave away to Beda. They seem to forget that once, that Stag brought home a few crowns to our school.
    

2005 and 2006. Check your history and you will know that these years were the first 2 years of a 4-peat championship that made stars such as Raffy Reyes, Arvie Bringas, Ryan Buenafe, Eric Carlo Salamat, and Paul Lee. But wait, they can't and will not be able to win one championship, more so, four if there weren't other players in the team. One of those players who contributed 2 of those 4-peat championship streak was the Stag a number of people are now calling stupid. Stupid for all those turnovers, stupid for not playing good enough as a point guard, stupid for not leading his team enough to emerge as this year's NCAA basketball champion. Yes, he was one of the important members of that team that gave you a 4-peat Juniors NCAA record, ending a 19-year championship drought.  He was wearing jersey number 18 then.
    

2009. The Seniors won their first championship after a 7-year drought . He was a part of that Jimbo Aquino-led team. He was now  wearing jersey number 17.
    

It saddened me to see a number of Sebastinos post on Facebook things like, "Ang bobo mo namang point guard!" or "Wala kang kwentang point guard ang dami mong turnovers." These people, sadly, might not even have an idea that he wasn't originally a POINT GUARD. His original team position was the 2 - SHOOTING GUARD. (Many don't even know the difference between the two positions.) He didn't use to care about play-making. Before, as part of the team, his main aim is to shoot. But in the middle of the first round of the 87th NCAA season, he was transitioned to be a point guard, following the unfortunate ACL injury of Jonjon Semira.  If one would look closely at the game, one would see glimpses of his original position emerge in some crucial moments of the game. He won't think twice of going for a basket, a trait common to SGs. He shoots teardrops, a basket not common to PGs but considered one of the strengths of an SG.  

I remember a tweet by Jovit Dela Cruz that said something like a team is composed of members and it doesn't necessarily mean that all members should have equal points. That's true. When they play ball, their scores aren't going to be always equal. And their performances wouldn't exactly be the same with each game. If he really was a failure at his last game, then maybe, Garvo Lanete would have outgun the team with his killer three's. But he wasn't able to do so because this Stag I'm talking about was guarding Garvo like his life depended on it.
  

As I always say, give the guy a break. He played with all that he could. Maybe, it just wasn't meant to be his day that day. You see, there are no coincidences in life. Everything's been pre-planned, sorted out by the big Boss up there. If for that day, the championship wasn't one of His plans for the Stags, we cannot question the Boss up there. They may play with all their hearts and with all their mights, but if the Boss up there says the baskets will be closed for our team, who are we to say it should be opened? For what God has closed, no man can open. If God has already closed the doors on the Stags for a championship this year, who are we to argue against the Boss who holds all of our lives? Every closed door provides an eye-opener for those involved. God will not close a door on you without a purpose. We may not understand it yet, or we are just too stubborn to admit what the purpose is, but someday the purpose will be plainly seen.
    

There is always one player who gets to be called King each year.  Eric Carlo Salamat, in his last year as an Eagle was called King Eagle. Kevin Louie Alas, though not yet in his last year for the Knights was tagged King Knight.

KING STAG. Who deserves the title? Is it Calvin Abueva, this year's season MVP? Or Ronald Pascual, our 3-pointer hero? Or Ian Sangalang who was awarded Defensive Player of the season? The title King Stag in my opinion, should be awarded not to those who scored the most this season but to the one who played the longest, brought home the most number of championships whether for the Juniors division alone or for the Juniors and Seniors division combined. So to you baller number 17,  a lot of people may disagree with me because they have such close-minded brains who would only care for the most recent errors and mistakes and game loss, but there is no other player worthy to be called King Stag this year other than you. Thank you for playing for the Golden Stags for 8 wonderful years. Win or lose, you know where your home is - the home of a true champion.  And no, you have not turned from hero to zero. You will always be a hero, as long as the records of the NCAA say the Juniors brought home 4 championships in a row from 2005-2008, and that the Seniors brought home the 2009 crown. Stand proud, King Stag ROLAND ANTHONY DEL RIO!

photo source: http://fullcourtfresh.com

I Wished I Wasn't Beautiful

I am beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring me down
I am beautiful in every single way
Yes words can't bring me down
So don't you bring me down today...

-Christina Aguilera, Beautiful

I wished I wasn't beautiful. Yes, I called myself beautiful. I won't show false humility here and say I'm just a pretty girl or I'm not one at all. I said I am beautiful because ever since I was a kid, I know I turn heads. Every time I go to a new school, I always get to be asked my name and if they can court me. I've won 3 school beauty contests as well, the first one when I was in preparatory school. I was crowned Miss Work (W came from CWL, the initials of my school). When I was in grade school, I joined the Miss United Nations contest and I won Miss United Nations International. When I was in high school I won my most prestigious award yet, being crowned Miss San Sebastian. I was just a 3rd year high school student and I went up against college students. I had the crown until 2009, when I was replaced after 5 years of reigning as Miss San Sebastian. While I was at school too, I had a few modelling stints outside, mostly ramp. Even then, I knew I can turn the head of any guy I want.

While others may think of it as a blessing to have a beautiful face, at certain points in my life, I found it a curse. You see, ever since I was a kid, I've been plagued by intrigues and rumors created by girls who are insecure with themselves. I would be tripped on the stairs by some mean girls who wanted me to be humiliated, I would be pushed around in the school cafeteria or worst, they would try to stain my uniform with food and beverages. In college, I remember a girl once said to me, "Susugatan ko yang legs mo eh! (I'll put a mark on your legs!)" just because she hates it that my legs look good.

Once, when Jeremy and I were on our way home, I told him that there were times when I wished I wasn't beautiful. I wished that I was just a plain jane, with none of the talents I have nor the looks and the body that I have. I wanted to be able to blend in with the crowd, with a face that is so plain men won't stare at me all the time. I hate it when men stare. I find it rude. And he was surprised to hear that. There I was, a girl who can get anything she wants if she uses the beauty that she's been given, wishing that I weren't even beautiful at all. So among all of the blogs I've posted, I think this one's got to be the most honest one I've ever written... YET. I really hated it back then whenever some girls who throw me nasty looks as I walk the school grounds. I hated it when they whisper amongst themselves in the school corridors, thinking I cannot hear them. Unfortunately for me, I can hear sound that other people can't. I can hear even the faintest whisper and decipher what is being said. I think the ability to hear like that was given to me because I don't have a pretty good eyesight. I also hated it when girls would try to befriend me just so they can get some perks from me - namely, the names and numbers of the guys who want to date me, or a certain air of popularity they cannot get if they are not my friends. But that popularity I have is somewhat attributed to the fact that my mom is one popular and infamous teacher at the school where I studied. I also hate it when ex-girlfriends of the guys I dated or had a relationship with would try to put me down with her friends telling them she's better than me or worst, that I'm just a slut who took her guy away from her.

And right outside the academe, when I graduated, I wasn't spared the insecurity of some girls. They would always find me too sexy for their taste, too beautiful to like, or too charming to befriend. Some girls in the corporate world tried to ruin my career, and they have tried to ruin my reputation. There's this one girl who, instead of hating me publicly, showed me and others that she likes me so much. She would always compliment my dress, my shoes, my make up and accessories. But when my back's turned, she was spreading nasty rumors to my subordinates. She tried to make herself the hero by telling them that I plan to fire a number of them for the company's sake. In the end, when I couldn't take it anymore, I left that workplace and just decided to pursue my passion - photography, video editing and anything related to media. And since then, I have decided not to enter the corporate world again. Not even with all the offers I get, I still chose to stay away from the corporate world. One of my former employer even offered me my job back, a job I resigned from because it was already too toxic for me.

My question is, when will all of these insecurities end? They won't. Just as long as I'm living in a world east of Eden, there will be a lot of girls who are not secure of who they are who will still be insecure towards me. But I know something they all should know. No living person, no material thing in this world, no amount of money or career achievement can give them the security they need. The only security one can ever have in this world comes from one man. His name is Jesus. And I know my security as a woman comes from him.

 

 

photo from Google

The Crown of Creation (A Blueprint Extended edition)

I must admit, when I heard that Victory Metroeast was having a men's meeting entitled "USAPANG LALAKE", my head thought, "Isn't that unfair? Why do the men get the chance to meet and talk about being men and women were nowhere in the picture?". So when I got to church today and saw that they were extending the BLUEPRINT series, it got me thinking, "What about Men have they not discussed yesterday as they held the Usapang Lalake meeting?" But they proved my thoughts wrong as soon as Pastor Marc Constantino walked up the stage and started to introduce the preacher for today. No, they weren't extending it for the men, but they were extending the series for the WOMEN. Thank God!

So here's the verse that is the heart of the preaching:
Genesis 2:18;20-23
¹⁸ The LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”
²² Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib^[c] he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.
 ²³ The man said,
   “This is now bone of my bones
   and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called ‘woman,’
   for she was taken out of man.” 

Now here are the things I learned from the preaching:

1. We are created feminine. (Genesis 1:26-27)
-If you are a woman, you are God's idea. You are not a mere chance.
-We don't look to our dysfunctional family or cultural background to find our feminine identity.
-THERE IS NO NEED TO BE INSECURE. (This I think is one of those things that women should know by heart. There is no need to be insecure towards other women. We are created uniquely. We are created beautiful and magnificent.)
-The more feminine we become, the more manly in the Biblical way they become.

2. We are designed to be a SUITABLE HELPER. (Genesis 2:18)-Suitable means perfect fit.
-Wives, there is no suitable wife for your husband other than you. God designed your life and his to compliment and to fit each other.
- Woman is a man's source of strength and support.
-Women, as a wife, you must RESPECT your husbands and SUBMIT to his leadership. HUMBLING YOURSELF AND SUBMITTING IS NOT A SIGN OF WEAKNESS. If you have that mindset, that submitting to men means you are weak, then you are listening to the lies of the enemy right there. We become wiser when we submit to their leadership.
-The men in our lives cannot fulfill the work God has called them to do without our support and respect.
-MEN, DO NOT ALLOW YOUR WIVES TO TAKE CONTROL BY BEING PASSIVE AND IRRESPONSIBLE.
-We must show respect to all the men in our lives.
-WHEN WE RESPECT OUR MEN, THEY ARE EMPOWERED.

3. We are intended to nurture. (Genesis 3:20)
-God gave us the ability to carry inside our wombs a baby, to give birth to it after 9 months and hours of labor because God created us to nurture. Just imagine what the world would be like if all the mothers would raise their kids the right way, in the way that is proper in the Bible. Just imagine what kind of society we would have if all the mothers would nurture the next generation in a good and godly way.
²⁰ Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living.

and lastly,
WOMEN ARE CREATED IN GOD'S IMAGE TO GLORIFY HIM BY FULFILLING HIS DESIGN IN OUR LIVES. 

Now here's an excerpt from the book Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery to a Woman's Soul that will add knowledge to us women:

It is nearing the end of the 6th day, the end of the Creator's great labor, as Adam steps forth, the image of God, the triumph of his work. He alone is pronounced the son of God. Nothing in Creation even comes close. Truly, the masterpiece seems complete. AND YET, the Master says that something is not good, not right. Something is missing... and that something is EVE.

And the Lord God cast a deep sleep on the human, and he slept, and He took one of his ribs and closed over the flesh where it had been, and the Lord God built the rib He had taken from the human into a woman and He brought her to the human. (Gen. 2:21-23 Alter)

She is the crescendo, the final, astonishing work of God. WOMAN. In one last flourish Creation comes to a finish not with Adam, but with Eve. She is the Master's finishing touch. Eve is... breathtaking.

Given the way creation unfolds, how it builds to ever higher and higher works of art, can there be any doubt that Eve is the crown of Creation? Not an afterthought. Not a nice addition like an ornament on a tree. She is God's final touch. She fills a place in the world and no one else can fill. 

Thus, we are the crown of creation. Sadly most women now seems to have taken for granted their worth as a woman. They SETTLE for JERKS when they should PATIENTLY WAIT for the ONE GOD HAS PREPARED FOR THEM. They let their abusive husbands beat them up like a sack of potatoes or hurl insults at them like they are worthless. Now I URGE you women, take a stand once more as the crown of creation. Do not let your worth be diminished by the world's twisted view of things. You are God's most magnificent creation, made in His image and likeness and given His emotions. Do not let the world abuse you and take way your beauty. You are, after all, the most beautiful creation God has put in the garden.

                                            (credits to the original uploader; source:Google)

<3

Hard Fought Peace

Peace, by definition, is a state of harmony characterized by the lack of violent conflict. Commonly understood as the absence of hostility, peace also suggests the existence of healthy or newly healed interpersonal or international relationships, prosperity in matters of social or economic welfare, the establishment of equality, and a working political order that serves the true interests of all. In international relations, peacetime is not only the absence of war or conflict, but also the presence of cultural and economic understanding and unity.There is also a sense of tolerance in international relations for the realization of true peace. (Source Wikipedia)

What brought about this blog I am about to write? Read this link.
(http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/video/nation/regions/10/19/11/19-killed-basilan-encounter)

For those who did not find time to read that link, let me just relate to you the content of that link. 19 Filipino soldiers were killed in an encounter in Basilan. 6 of them, if my memory serves me correctly were butchered after they were already down and gunned.

The culprit: MILF says the military.

Who are they anyway?

The MILF or the Moro Islamic Liberation Front is an Islamic group from southern Philippines who was once part of the MNLF or the Moro National Liberation Front. As of today, MILF has been charged with a lot of bombings and killings down south in Mindanao. Most recent is the "ambush" of the special forces of the Army in Basilan which killed 19 soldiers.

What are they fighting for anyway? Let's take a trip down history first for you to understand the situation.
 The MNLF was formed because of the Jabidah Massacre. Here's a brief background of what happened with the Jabidah Massacre:
In 1963, the resource-rich island of Sabah, which had been under British control since the late nineteenth-century, formally became part of the Federation of Malaysia. The Philippines, however, protested this, claiming that Sabah had never been sold to foreign interests, and that it had only been leased (padjak) by the Sulu Sultanate and therefore remained the property of the Sultan and by extension the property of Republic of the Philippines. This dispute led the-then Philippine presidents Diosdado Macapagal then later on Ferdinand Marcos to establish special military units tasked with fomenting dissent amongst Sabah's non-Malay ethnic groups, namely the Tausug and Sama, two groups closely aligned ethnically and culturally with the Bangsamoro. The code-name of this destabilization programme was "Operation Merdeka" (Operation Freedom), with Manuel Syquio as project leader and then Maj. Eduardo Abdul Latif Martelino as operations officer. The end-game of this is the annexation of Sabah to the Republic of the Philippines. The plan involved the recruitment of nearly 200 Tausug and Sama Muslims aged 18 to 30 from Sulu and Tawi-Tawi and their training in the island-town of Simunul in Tawi-Tawi. Simunul was where the Arab missionary Makhdum built the first mosque in the Philippines in the 13th century. The recruits felt giddy about the promise not only of a monthly allowance, but also over the prospect of eventually becoming a member of an elite unit in the Philippine Armed Forces. From August to December 1967, the young recruits underwent training in Simunul. The name of the commando unit: Jabidah. On December 30, 1967, 135 to 180 recruits boarded a Philippine Navy vessel for the island of Corregidor in Luzon for "specialized training." This second phase of the training turned mutinous when the recruits discovered their true mission. It struck the recruits that the plan would mean not only fighting their brother Muslims in Sabah, but also possibly killing their own Tausug and Sama relatives living there. Additionally, the recruits had already begun to feel disgruntled over the non-payment of the promised monthly stipend. The recruits then demanded to be returned home. The sole survivor of the Massacre, Jibin Arula, recounted how the young Moro recruits were taken in batches of twelve to a remote airstrip where they were executed with machine gun by their military handlers. Arula, who was wounded in the left knee, managed to attach himself to driftwood long enough to be rescued by fishermen from the nearby island of Cavite. Though there has never been an official count, the number of dead ranges from 28. As of 1980,some of the axe-bearing military trainers of jabidah were even in the active service, particularly in the 2nd Army (sep), 2nd Infantry Division of the Philippine Army wearing the Jabidah pin. (Google)

Thus, MNLF was born. And in 1981, the MILF separated from the MNLF. This new group was supposedly a more conservative one.

Why am I blogging about this? No, I AM NOT AND WILL NEVER BE AGAINST MUSLIMS. I respect their religion and beliefs even though I was once a Catholic and now I am a born-again Christian. I will never hate or generalize my statements just because they are of a different religion. For I was once, almost, became member of their religion.

Reading the news and seeing them on TV these days brought back memories of the past. Memories I would rather not relieve yet I know that whenever news down south would reach me, I would still be concerned. Not for the man I once gave my heart and soul to, but for his people. Yes, you read that right. I fell in love once, a long long time ago, with a Muslim prince. (But for the sake of the promise I gave him, I will never mention his name on any blog or online post I make.) But more than the love I felt for him, I fell in love with his people. Not because of their religion and traditions but because my heart yearns to bring them one thing that all of them yearn for - PEACE. The war and the conflict down there has long been in their lives, starting from the Moro Wars that started in the time of the Spaniards until today, when Noynoy Aquino, the second Aquino to hold office, is stating that he will not give the go signal for an all out war. 

Peace, they say, is not the absence of war. It is a state of harmony characterized by the lack of violent conflict. And peace is something that is lacking down south. Among many other things. They lack good education, a good health system, proper housing and a whole lot more of societal problems that every new set of government officials failed to address.

When God gave me the word that He is sending me to the nations and someone confirmed my visions of where He is preparing me to be sent, all I could say was, "Oh God, surely you have prepared me for this long time ago. You really made the bad things to turn into good because you have prepared my heart for this mission long before I walked in Your light." Guess where He is sending me? Yes, I am being sent to the race that will always have something against my belief. The land of hijabs and mosques. I have totally forgotten about this mission I received until recently, when the news showed the bodies of the soldiers being carried into a truck, to be taken to the hospital or the morgue. My heart cried. Not only for the soldiers, but for the people who are caught in the middle of all these. The women, elderly and children and the innocent ones who are caught in the middle of all these conflicts in Mindanao. Where's the peace? Where is the product of the so-called peace talks? I want to know. I sacrificed the love I felt for one man just so he can reach for his dreams for his people - a safe and conflict-free environment, wherein there is the presence of peace. Now that part of me is asking, where is the peace? What are we doing to bring forth peace? Please let me know. It may be a far-fetched dream for a lot of you but I know, someday, down south, there will be PEACE. Hard fought it may be, not be guns and ammunitions, but by prayers, Providence, and the desire to bring forth peace but PEACE WILL FLOURISH.