Swahili is an African language spoken in Kenya. After I introduced myself to a new Kenyan friend during our recent trip to Kibera in Nairobi, he replied, “You have a beautiful name. Do you know what it means in Swahili?” I shook my head and said, “No, what does it mean?” He said, “Kezia (pronounced … Continue reading Kesha: How God Spoke to Me Through My Name in Africa
I feel a great deal of angst staring at a blank page. I have been at this since this morning, frantic and uneasy on how to write about my year 2018. It’s now three in the afternoon; ah, what to say? It was a good year. It was a hard year. 2018 began with a … Continue reading 2018: A Personal Reflection
I did it again. I bought a dress.
I couldn’t help it. It was so cheap.
I didn’t need it.
Me and dresses, we have this thing going on. They are not to disturb me and steal my attention away. They are to look bland and utterly ugly in their little corner at the store while I go buy my groceries. Yet there they are, just a few steps away from where the vegetables are, beckoning me with their pretty colors, adorable laces, and insignificant details visible only to me.
They never stop looking so bright and interesting. I have to muster all control to ignore them entirely.
Once in a while, I’d succeed without ever looking at one dress. Occasionally, I’d fail and try a dress or two. Other times, I’d fail with honors and arrive home with a dress in my bag of groceries.
Tonight, I failed with honors. I brought dinner home with a dress in the bag.
I know what you’re thinking. There is nothing wrong with buying a dress or two. I agree with you.
Except, my closet disagrees. Continue reading “Me and Dresses”
“Yes, I am staying.”
After watching a video, I found myself uttering these very words to myself fully convinced that I am called to stay — in church.
I am not foreign to the cycle of excuses we often throw people or ourselves about leaving church. These excuses span from petty grievances on what carpet color to use or justified cries on the hypocrisy that exists in a group of imperfect people gathering together.
Church is boring. Church music is not modern enough. Church is so uptight.
Or, me and God, we have our own thing. I can pray and worship God at home. I can do church with my TV. Continue reading “Staying”
Photo Source: www.sheepy.me
Leave at 8 in the morning.
That was all Andreas, Cristo, and Anica knew when they stepped out of their guesthouse in Krabi town yesterday after praying where to go and leaving everything they own. With no money and no clothes, except the ones on their backs; and knowing nobody in a strange town where hardly anyone speaks English, they faithfully walked in the words of Luke 10 waiting for the Lord to show them their man of peace. Continue reading “Go Left (A Luke 10 Journey)”
I am saddened.
A few hours ago, I read post after post from friends on Facebook, blogs, and twitter either rejoicing or mourning over the US Supreme Court’s ruling on the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) as unconstitutional and dismissal of Proposition 8, thereby effectively restoring same-sex marriage in California. The cry of the people on this paradigm shift range from extreme joy to acute disgust. This event, without doubt, marks a big leap towards a profound alteration of perspectives in what marriage in America looks like. Continue reading “On Same-Sex Marriage: I Choose Love, I Choose Grace”
Photo Source: www.wallpaper4me.com
I am fond of rain. I enjoy the sound of water hitting my rooftop. I feel particularly calm while watching heavy water pouring down my window, wind uncontrollably crashing on my outside walls. At times the invitation to go in and dance with it overcomes me, I succumb.
To me, a violent rainy scene is God saying that’s how I love you. I see His love like a storm taking over a place almost without warning and beyond anyone’s control. Riddled with passion and pursuing His children, His love is vehement. He is, surely, not Someone I would call safe. And yes, I love that about Him. Continue reading “When It Rains”
My husband and I have been crazy busy in the last few days. Then, there’s the mysterious three days of not having any internet connection. Everyone else appeared to have it except us.
So this poem is a tad late for what I intended it for, but as the old cliché goes, “Better late than never.”
This is for my Mama and for all the Mamas out there, whether you are the biological or adoptive mother of your kids. Thank you for all that you have done, for all that you do, and for all that you are ready to do for us, your children. Continue reading “Mama: A Daughter’s Display of Love and Gratitude”
The internet. Quite the invention. With it, comes the power of social media — facebook, twitter, pinterest, instagram, etc.
The summer my husband and I met in China, we had to go our separate ways back to our lives after the mission trip. He was living in the Philippines, while I was living in the States. Yet the separation was not too bad for us because we exchanged emails and Skype names. We knew we would see each other again after a few days. On Skype. Continue reading “Wall Posts: What my Facebook Friends do not Know”
This is a movie based on a true story of a guy named Jay Moriarty, a surfer from Santa Cruz, California. My husband and I watched it a few weeks ago. It was one of those movies that we both felt great about after watching despite the ending. It was a good movie, not because of how it was made but more so of its message. I saw many of my Facebook friends post lines from the movie on their walls clearly showing that many were inspired by it. Although I never did post anything from the movie, but I wrote down a line on my notebook what I felt was at the heart of its message. Continue reading “Chasing Mavericks: What I Took with Me from the Movie”