Trying to reaffirm the dignity of being a child of God...

      Not lapsed, just searching, trying to look at my Catholic faith objectively. It was handed down, not a choice. I wanted to be given the chance to choose. Had attended a Catholicism class taught by a Baptist (1689 confession of faith) once a week for 4 months incognito. I felt every guffaw, every negative remark against my faith even though the pastor-lecturer said early on that the class, composed of Baptists/Evangelicals except maybe for me, should be convincing in their kindness. That experience was so hurting, humiliating and humbling that I was depressed for weeks even after classes had been over, because I had been a Catholic since my baptism more than 45 years ago, had attended Catholic schools from Kinder to 4th year College but there was I, clueless and helpless as to how I could defend my faith. Years of Catholic teachings, aside from attending Masses regularly, retreats, recollections, membership in church organizations, did not prepare me for questions that the Baptists would raise about Catholicism.
      I realized from my subsequent readings that maybe the Baptists have a point, and that Catholics, including me, should heed the warnings of Benedict Heron, OSB in his book I Saw Satan Fall:
       "...We are protected from the attacks of the devil and misfortunes, not by a relic, a crucifix, a holy picture, a medal, a scapular, a particular prayer, but by Jesus himself. He may choose to work through an angel or in answer to the prayers of his mother or the saints, or through pious objects, but it is Jesus himself who saves and protects. There can be a danger of superstition as also of a magic mentality if we put our trust in holy things rather than in the Holy One."
      Second warning is "...there can be a danger of some Catholics getting smothered by a multitude of private devotions, special prayers, novenas, holy pictures, scapulars, medals and such things, so that the centrality of the Mass and the basic simplicity of the spiritual life become obscured," and that " we shall not be protected from the attacks of the devil because of the vast number of pious objects around us, or because of endless private devotions."
      Personally, I think that the errors spoken against by Benedict Heron may also be the reason why some or many (don't have the actual number) are getting out of the Catholic fold.

God's Plan for Me

I am currently working as a customer care specialist. Part of my job is to deal with client complaints through investigation, root cause analysis and recommendations based on analysis. Recommendations may or may not be approved by the company. One of my tasks is to inform the client of whatever decision the company has reached regarding the complaint the client filed. Not an easy task, really. Right now, I am waiting for the results of my application for the position of a business development specialist in our company's Direct Marketing Unit under Accident & Health Department. It's been a month since I submitted my letter of intent and my updated resume. So far, I haven't heard from HR but I've been tipped to spruce up by putting on makeup and doing something with my hair. It's a marketing job after all.



In February, I also applied at UP's Filipino Department for a M.A. degree in Malikhaing Pagsulat. I haven't heard from UP either. I am assailed by doubts. Maybe I'm not that good after all.

I am also having trouble with my only daughter. I don't know what to do with her anymore. She has become wayward. No amount of exhortation, scolding or threats has gotten to her. Because of her, I have begun to question if I had been right in insisting that my children should be together and not even thinking of adoption for anyone of them as an option when I broke up with my abusive husband. I never thought that a child should be anywhere else except with her mother, her parents.

In the midst of all these trials and uncertainties, I choose to turn to God, believing in his plans for me. I may not understand why these things happen to me but he does.

Proverbs 3:5-8
Trust in the LORD with all your heart
And do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He will make your paths straight.

Do not be wise in your own eyes;
Fear the LORD and turn away from evil.

It will be healing to your body
And refreshment to your bones.

photo from Photobucket by AStarGoingNoWhere

Zip-Line at Confidence Kamp, Riverbanks, Marikina

Yesterday, while strolling at Riverbanks Center grounds, my handsome date and I saw people zip-lining over the river. I haven't done my training runs at the banks for some time now and so was not updated on what's new at the place. Though zip-lining may be classified as an extreme sport, the line is not sharp-angled and is actually good for families who want to introduce children to zip-lining. Parents may accompany their children for the rides. For a promo price of a hundred pesos for residents of Marikina, Quezon City and nearby locales, it's worth returning every weekend for. Promo price is more than 50% off P250, the actual price. The zip-line course is open daily from 9am to 8pm and is managed by Confidence Kamp. It is just right across the road from Mang Inasal.

Next time I visit, I will ask them about safety measures that they employ in case of emergencies but for now, if you know how to swim, go for the ride.

Here are some pics taken at the zip-line:

From Fat to Payat - 1 (The first of a series)

I joined our office version of The Biggest Loser on February 2 2012. I weighed in at 175 lbs. A week later, on the 9th, I started taking the contest seriously not only because I didn't want to lose a thousand pesos if i didn't shape up but also because I wanted to maintain an ideal weight for a female of 45 years in age, height of 5'7 1/2 and which is between a Body Mass Index range of 19-25 - that will be any weight between 118 to 155 lbs. I just found out that my BMI is 27, more than the ideal 25, and that further convinces me to lose weight because health risks may occur. I don't want to precipitate type 2 diabetes, heart disease and certain cancers. My paternal grandma, my dad and his brother - all died of cancer.

I'm making a journal of my progress from fat to payat. Even if I don't win, simply trying is enough. I know that I will be healthier, feel lighter, and as a bonus, probably look younger.

How serious am I?

I brisk-walked from my house in Project 4 to Riverbanks via P. Tuazon, thru that hairpin turn at Escopa II linking Marikina and Quezon City, then onto Major Dizon, the thoroughfare of Industrial Valley Complex and walk the few meters along FVR Road, the access road to C5 to get to Riverbanks. At the mall, I chanced upon a sale of big-sized shoes and was able to get a pair at 50% off for my daughter's prom on the 17th. I walked back home via the same route, still brisk-walking at the uphill climb of Major Dizon.

February 9 - After my walk to and from Riverbanks

February 10 - With Sherill, a friend, on her last day at work

February 11 - After getting home from a date - we love to walk when we are together - but nothing like walking from Riverbanks to Cubao in 50 minutes

Thing I've Never Done

I am sure that there are things in your life or one thing that you never thought you would do until you've done it. Right now, I can think of only one thing. My mind is still trying to recover along with the rest of my body.

I never thought I would walk home from my office in Makati to my home in Project 4 in 2 and 1/2 hours until tonight.

I guess I was tired of the same routine everyday. The daily grind then after that, packing myself in with the other human sardines into the MRT coach. So today, I gave myself a respite. And even though my feet in sturdy Mellow Yellow, were groaning from under me, I arrived home safe and sound.

Think I will be eating heartily tonight. Afterwards, blessed sleep...

Good night!

P.S. I'm preparing also for our office's version of the biggest loser. Wanna go back to running, too.

Catch Me A Dragonfly

How fast-paced my life has become. I now crave for those bygone days of getting idly by without guilt. But because I live in the age of automation when machines are slowly replacing humans in the workplace, when there is always the pressure of proving oneself superior to machine, I feel alienated and like fish out of water. Though my childhood ceased to be idyllic after I was forced to grow up at age five, the peacefulness of the first years of my life could easily be pictured in the context of where our family resided in perennially flooded Malabon.

Panghulo, Malabon, with its fishponds and swamps full of floating water spinach, was the backdrop against which my young life was painted. I can still see in my mind's eye the little garden with the grotto at the center. Goldfish shone bright under the sun almost all day while they swam in the water-filled moat around the grotto. Butterflies and dragonflies flitted about over the flower shrubs and away from my tiny hands. There in that garden, I could run free without being afraid to fall and skin my knee. I could let the hours pass without a care in the world except the grumbling of a hungry stomach and the nagging thought that probably my mom had already arrived from work and was looking for me. Swamp and pond waters submerged our house in stormy days. My father would carry me on his shoulders and we would catch fish through a makeshift rod's hook on which a wriggly worm dangled. It was a borrowed house with a borrowed garden in the middle of water and floating water spinach. But the memories are mine for as long as I live.

If I had my way then, I would never have left Malabon for the busier, mostly concrete Caloocan. For even though, we moved to another borrowed house that faced a church, heard Mass songs several hours in a day and the clanging of the bells for Angelus, I never felt I was any closer to God while I lived there.

I now live in Project 4, the house that my mother's accident insurance built. It has become a nondescript habitat that belied all the care that I put into it even before the babies came. This house now looks lived-in, worn and weary and if it ever breathed, it would have gasped and huffed and puffed from its toils. I had wanted to preserve it, even though the saddest years of my life are imprisoned in its walls and it witnessed horrors that should never visit a home. Sadly, its wooden beams and boards seem to be crumbling everyday. I had wanted it to be a living scrapbook of my children's childhood and growing years. All the firsts in their lives happened in this house. But the world as we know it will end, weather-beaten houses included, including my house on borrowed land.

I will try to walk instead of run. Running is too much to hope for now. But I need to feel the wind blowing on my face, my hair. I need to go back even once to that long-ago carefree days of my childhood and feel the innocence, the promise and hope of my early years once more. And in going back, I may return to my now taking everything with me to help me live.