The Writing of a Story, The Making of a Life

Measure thy life by loss and not by gain

Not by the wine drunk but by the wine poured out,

For love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice,

And he that suffereth most, hath most to give.

- Ugo Bassi

Today I celebrate my sixty-fourth birthday.

Many yesteryears ago, as an eighteen year-old girl fresh out of high school, I had absolutely no idea what being 64 would be like. Spring was calling, there was no time to think about growing old.

On the threshold of youthful idealism, my heart was filled with rosy dreams of a bright tomorrow.

Forty plus years later, I have gained a totally different perspective.

When one is young, full of plans and eager anticipation for what lies ahead, it is easy to be intellectual about many things.

The story of my life was in the making and I wanted to be sure all the elements of a good story were in place.

Characters, plot, themes.

And of course, you don't start out a life and plan to fail.

You put in all the lovely details.

Like excellence. Discipline. Ideal relationships. Well-ordered finances. A good reputation. Unquestionable church commitment. A well-respected life.

And for a while it worked.

I had a good husband, a beautiful family, and a comfortable life.

We pursued our dreams.

We basked in the glory of our achievements.

I was in my mid-thirties, in the prime of my youth, when I discovered that Someone Else, not me, was holding the pen and writing the story.

The real Author of my life story had so engineered the circumstances surrounding me because He had something infinitely better in store.

Given my way, I would never have allowed such sub-plots and unexpected twists to enter the picture. But at that point, there was not much I could do.

Adversity came not as a one-time strike, but in bundles.

Financial disaster. Broken relationships. False accusations.

Loss of reputation. Betrayal. Sickness. 

Legal battles. Shattered dreams. And, death.

I will not go into specifics anymore for my story has been told many times before. Suffice it to say that in the midst of it all, I felt so awful there were mornings I'd wake up and not recognize the face staring back at me in the mirror.

To someone who had been used to being in control, these circumstances were unimaginable.  It seemed like I was standing before a great abyss, always only one step away from falling into it.

This major crisis of my life went on for years, yet much of it was a lonely battle fought inside my heart.

Until one night, I found myself face to face with God.

"What do you want?" He asked. His voice, gentle.

Many times in the past I had always prayed, "Lord, restore our finances, restore my relationships, vindicate us, restore my good name... give me back my life!"

That night, face to face with the Author of my life story, my priorities were re-arranged.

I suddenly realized I no longer cared about the answers to my many questions.

I no longer cared about the solutions I had been seeking.

All I wanted was God alone.

"What is it that you want?" God gently asked me again.

And I found myself crying out to Him, "My Father, I don't want anything else… I don't need anything; all I want is You, Lord. You're all I want."

As soon as I uttered those words, I knew that I had finally taken that last step. I fell into the deep abyss that had been before me.

image source

All along I had been so scared of falling to rock bottom. But that night, I finally had my experience of "free fall."

Not clutching at anything, not grasping at any security blanket, but just freely falling, letting go, and discovering that as I reached bedrock, my Creator, my Redeemer, the Author of my story, was there. God met me at that rock bottom point of my need.

That was the turning point of my life...when I stopped looking for answers and remedies, and simply allowed God to take over.

“You are safe in Me… trust Me,” He whispered.

That really was the best thing I ever did. In trusting Him with all of my heart, I was led through the way of brokenness and humility.

As long as I was in control of my life, depending on self-protective mechanisms to safeguard my interests, God's life could not break forth in me.

In effect, God was saying, "Let go, My child; allow yourself to be as broken bread and poured out wine for your sake."

For my sake!

God knew what I did not: I needed to be rescued from myself.

And there was no other way to do it except through the painful path that He took me.

I entered the summer season of my life adjusting to a new normal, my life no longer as neat and as well-ordered as it once was. 

A few years ago I also lost the security of having a husband to physically lean on...to grow old with.

But that's okay.

I have slowly gotten used to no longer being in control, and simply allowing the Holy Spirit to teach me how to dance to the "unforced rhythms of life."

How grateful I am for the opportunities to sow new seeds in time for the autumn harvest season.

And how freeing, how liberating, how exciting, to live this way!

The German poet Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote:

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.

I know God loves "happy" endings, His way, not mine. And I know He has already written it down in His book.

In Your book they all were written,

the days fashioned for me,

when as yet there were none of them.

- Psalm 139:16

Indeed, I am thankful for the years gone by.

But more than that, I am truly grateful for the battle scars I carry in my heart: healed wounds from the storms I have weathered, the rivers I have crossed, the mountains I have climbed.

And I look forward to what lies ahead.

Despite my chronological years, I don’t feel old. Not at all.

Age, it has often been said, is a state of mind. And I totally agree.

As I enter the autumn seasons of my life, advancing in years, I sense my spirit to be growing younger, my real age being measured in terms of kairos, not chronos.

Both kairos and chronos are Greek words for “time.”  Somewhere along this faith journey, I have come to know the huge difference between the two.

Chronos refers to measurable time, as in hours, minutes, and seconds; a calendar of months and years. This is where the word “chronology” comes from.

Kairos, on the other hand, means “opportune moment,”  “appointed time,” or “due season.”

How much more meaningful life is when lived in terms of divine timing and seasons, instead of measuring it like the ominous ticking of a clock, or the marking off of days in a calendar.

With chronos, time is a cruel taskmaster.

With kairos, time is my friend and ally.

I want to enter the next level of my life with hope and vision, ready to conquer new territories and sail uncharted seas, not in fear and trepidation, but with a sense of expectancy, enthusiasm, and eagerness.

So this is my story.

But it’s far from over.

Somehow, each year is different, actually, better than the one before. God is teaching me to bring a closure to the past seasons in my life... glean precious lessons from them, even as I look forward to the unfolding of a new chapter, a story that has actually been written already. But like a script in a play, the lines are waiting to be spoken, and lived out.

I really love that word - unfolding.

It is a beautiful picture of a flower, the petals gently unfolding as the rays of the early sun touch them.

Or a butterfly, slowly unfolding its wings as it emerges out of its cocoon.

Or the pages of my favorite book, the story unfolding before me as I read the lines...

This year, my life will unfold before my eyes, and I will reach greater heights never experienced before.

From glory, to greater glory; from grace, to greater grace... the Father's goodness will unfold before my very eyes.

And this awareness fills my heart with a sense of quiet excitement.

Each new day, it seems, brings me to a new level of experiencing, knowing, and seeing.

Every sunset is an affirmation that rest, quiet, and renewal are on the way, and tomorrow is another day.

And I am aware of gentle stirrings deep within, a hunger and longing in my heart for the unsearchable, unfathomable, heretofore fenced in and hidden, things of my Creator’s heart.

There is a promise that awaits the hungry soul, anyone who seeks beauty and truth: we will not seek in vain.

Yes, this is my story... the unfolding of a hidden beauty, the beholding of a gem previously unnoticed, the revealing of a deeper truth never before understood.

My life as seen from this perspective is packed with depth and meaning.

Sorrow and joy, success and failure, achievement and disappointment… they form a lovely blend of colors in the hand of the Master.

This is my story…

I have no doubt, in heaven’s eyes, the tapestry of my life is a masterpiece.

Meanwhile, on this earthly side of eternity, there remain new and deeper levels of understanding waiting to be discovered.

My life is a diamond in the rough, its many facets being chiseled and polished, a necessary process of being made more beautiful.

In the Bible, the book that I have come to love so much, God says, “Behold I am making all things new.”

Behold.

Another beautiful word to describe my journey.

The Hebrew word for it is hineni, a heart response to the God who is always asking, “Where are you?”

And the answer He expects of me is not to point Him to my geographical position. In truth, the question is not about a physical location, but about a relationship... my relationship with Him.

“Where are you, in relation to Me?” my Heavenly Father asks.

This is my story. And this is who I have become: a woman living her life in answer to the penetrating question her Creator God is asking.

You see, I have long understood that although His is the unseen hand holding the pen, my life is not a product of mere chance or fate. He did not create me to be a robot, but an intelligent being capable of making wise choices.

I have a participative, interactive role in the writing of my story.

My obedience is key to how my story will end.

He has penned the chapters, but in between the lines there is an invitation for me to participate, to join Him in what He is doing.

He invites me to live my life as an open book before Him, and before others.

My life is no longer my own.

Brokenness and vulnerability are the ongoing themes of my life. But Father God is true to His promise that when we are willing to lose our lives, we truly gain it back, and in fuller measure.

These years I've experienced what it means to live daily with a sense of abundance and provision, an assurance of good things happening.

He offers me tremendous freedom to be a transparent vessel for His transforming, healing light to shine through.

For I know the plans I have for you, He says, plans for your welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

“Where are you in relation to Me?”

The question He asks is an invitation for me to be real… and to go deeper.

Thus, the answer to His searching question is not so much for Him as it is for me. And for you.

God is calling you and me out from where we are hiding, into the light of His presence.

And the only suitable answer to God's question is, Hineni. “Behold, here I am."

Hineni. Here I stand... before You.

Hineni. Here I am, ready to do as You want.

Hineni. Here I am; speak Lord, for I am ready to listen, and obey.

When I answer, Hineni, then I am in the right place before Him. My heart is empty, my hands are open to accept His gifts of grace. New truths can unfold before me. A fresh revelation of who I am and where I am going can be better appreciated. And I can arrive at a new level of understanding of what my true kingdom purpose is.

My life is not defined by this world’s standards. My identity is not shaped by what I have attained, or the value that others have assigned to me. Nor am I imprisoned by past failures, unfulfilled dreams, or unmet expectations.

Rather, I am free to view the past, present, and future events of my life from a redeemed perspective. There is a promise of restoration for the years the locust has eaten.  I can synchronize my steps to the rhythm of the song God is singing over me. Life gains a whole new meaning... and the future is mine for the taking!

With an eternal perspective, I can see clearly to choose which of the many battles confronting me are worth fighting, and which of the many roads before me is the one that leads to my desired eternal destination.

After autumn comes the winter. There is no escaping the changing of the seasons.

When the time comes for me to enter winter's door, I know spring is waiting to greet me.

What astounds me is the realization that my story never ends… 


Because eternity is forever!

And in that Land of Eternal Springtime, we are forever young!

For lo, the winter is past,

The rain is over and gone.

The flowers appear on the earth;

The time of singing has come,

And the voice of the turtledove

Is heard in our land.

- Song of Solomon 2:11, 12

Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer by Kirstyn Getty

Instrument of Peace, by the Canadian Tenors

The Blessing, by John Waller

My Hanukkah and the Changing Faces of Christmas

Mary receives the news from Angel Gabriel 

that the Messiah will be born through her

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. And the virgin's name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be. And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

And Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?”

And the angel answered her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God. And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant[f] of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” And the angel departed from her.

- Luke 1:26-38



I grew up loving Christmas.

For me, it became a symbol of family love and togetherness. My early memories of Christmas would be that of me and my sister, little girls of five and six, probably even younger, eagerly waiting for our Papa and Mama to come home on a Saturday afternoon from Cartimar with a freshly cut pine tree from Baguio City. Papa would then put the tree in a small bucket with water, then with Mama's help, steady the tree with rocks and stones, and place it in a corner of our living room. Papa would wrap the pail with green cloth. Christmas music would be played on a turntable, and they would begin to put the Christmas decorations -   balls of different colors and sizes, multicolored lights, stars, tinsel, and all. Then boxes of wrapped gifts would be placed under the tree. The special toys that we could only play with at Christmas time would also be placed there, as part of the decorations. As Christmas drew near, more gifts would appear. What I remember the most is waking up mornings and smelling the distinct smell of the pine tree permeating our home.

Every year it would be the same Christmas season ritual.  In 1965, we had our first Christmas in our new home. I was 12 years old then. Papa and Mama came home one Saturday afternoon with a freshly cut pine tree. The Christmas music was played, and the decors put up. Then in the evening, we sat in our dimly lit living room, admiring the Christmas tree. It was really a family thing. The next morning, I woke up to the familiar scent of the pine tree filled our home.

Christmas reminds me of my growing up years. The voices of children singing carols outside our gate. My sister and me going to our neighbors' houses to give gifts. The love and nurture and care of parents who loved us. The smell of food being prepared by my parents in the kitchen.

Yes, Papa and Mama did most things together. I am not saying that we were a perfect family. There were times of conflict and misunderstanding. But that's what family is all about. The differences got resolved in a quiet and peaceful way. My sister and I received good upbringing. Kind words, loving touches, consideration, compassion. I don't think I have father or mother wounds in my heart. There was no violence. There were no shouting matches. No drunkenness or marital infidelity. Only hard work, simplicity, elegance, and beauty.

Elegance... we had lots of it. The table was always set beautifully. My sister and I had nice clothes to wear. Our home was clean, and neat, and in order. My father was gentle with Mama, and us his children. We were taught good manners at an early age. There was honor and respect.

That is what I remember about Christmas.

And so when I had my own home, I did the same thing my parents did. Ernie and I had our first Christmas tree the year our first-born son was born. And we kept adding to the decors every year. I did not throw away any of the decors we had accumulated through the years. We only added one or two more each year.

Ernie would play his collection of Christmas music - jazz, philharmonic orchestras, choral, vocal solos... he had a wide assortment of music. There would be hot chocolate and cookies on the table, the children would be playing nearby, while Ernie and I put up the decors. It didn't take long because we did not have a big tree.

Then there were the shared meals and the many Christmas parties with friends.There would be a yearly Christmas Cantata, and a special Christmas Eve worship service. Barb, our pastor's wife, would bring several trays of cookies she had baked herself. There would be lots of gifts going around. There would be the special dinner with Ernie's extended family.

Throughout the years of my marriage, Christmas came to have an added meaning for me: the love of a husband. Again, just like my earlier years, I did not have husband wounds. Ernie was faithful, hardworking, kind, considerate, and generous with his affection and attention. I couldn't have asked for more.


Then in November 2008 Ernie passed away. Before that happened, I remember he had asked me the usual question he would ask at that time of the year: "When are we going to put up the tree?"

That first Christmas without Ernie, I found it hard to put up the tree. First Born had gotten married earlier that year and was no longer living with us. But I remember that his wife God-given had given me a helping hand. I still played the Christmas music. But I don't think I prepared the hot chocolate and the cookies.

God-given and I put up the tree without much ado. And as I sat down to watch the lights on the tree, there were tears in my years. After all, it had only been a month since Ernie died.

Of course, I know that the real reason for Christmas is Jesus coming to earth as a man to be our Redeemer. That is the ultimate reason for the season, the main motivation for the celebration.

But each year after my husband went home to heaven, the Christmas season has become increasingly more simple for me.

It's been a while since I listened to Ernie's collection. I now listen music on my laptop attached to a speaker. I finished putting up the Christmas tree in our living room only two days ago.

It's not that I no longer treasure the memories. I still do. And I will forever be thankful for the kind of nurture and love that I received from my parents and my husband. They are God's precious gifts to me and have truly given shape and substance to the person I am today.

It's just that these past weeks I have felt a huge change in the way I look at  Christmas.

It must have been about ten years ago when I learned that Jesus Christ was not actually born on December 25. And some people I know no longer put up the Christmas tree, because they say that the Christian celebration of Christmas has its origins in midwinter pagan festivals and worship of the sun and the planet Saturn, among other things. In the dead and dreariness of the dark winter season, boughs of greenery were used to decorate homes to remind people of the hope in the coming spring.

In truth, Christmas as I know it today is very much a cultural and traditional celebration.

I am not about to give up celebrating Christmas altogether. But this year I want to celebrate Christmas in a different way.

Family memories are good. And for the sake of family, we will still have the festive meal, and the Christmas tree, and the giving of gifts.

And I am forever grateful for the coming down to earth of Jesus Christ as our Redeemer and Ransom.

But in this season, together with the birth of Jesus, I am also choosing to celebrate the feast of Hanukkah.

The story of Hanukkah in its entire historical context is a long one, but it is worth reading it to gain insight and understanding. (link supplied)

The temple in Jerusalem has been desecrated under the tyranny of the Syrian King Antiophus IV, Temple worship had been prohibited, and all the precious articles used for worship had been stolen, including the menorah. A revolt arose in defense of their faith and native land, led by Judah Maccabee. Against all odds, the Syrians were defeated by the Maccabean revolt.

Now the Maccabees returned to Jerusalem to liberate it. They entered the Temple and cleared it of the idols placed there by the Syrian vandals. Judah and his followers built a new altar, which he dedicated on the twenty-fifth of the month of Kislev, in the year 3622 (139 B.C.E.). Since the golden Menorah had been stolen by the Syrians, the Maccabees now made one of cheaper metal. When they wanted to light it, they found only a small cruse of pure olive oil bearing the seal of the High Priest Yochanan. It was sufficient to light only for one day. By a miracle of G‑d, it continued to burn for eight days, till new oil was made available. That miracle proved that G‑d had again taken His people under His protection. In memory of this, our sages appointed these eight days for annual thanksgiving and for lighting candles. (from The Story of Chanukah)

This miraculous event is remembered yearly during the Hebrew month of Kislev, which corresponds to the month of December on our Gregorian calendar. It is called Hanukkah, but also referred to as the Feast of Dedication, or Festival of Lights.

image source

It is almost certain the Jesus Christ was conceived in the womb of Mary during the feast of Hanukkah. That would place the birth of our Lord in the month of September to October, during the Feast of Tabernacles, or Sukkot.

The symbolism of these dates is awesome. Really, the realization of it just grips my heart.

Jesus being born during the Feast of Tabernacles brings home the truth that Jesus, is God With Us, Emmanuel. He tabernacled with us. This means, He came down to earth in an earthly, temporary dwelling of a human body...

Tradition says that He was born in a manger, others say that Jesus was actually born in a sukkot, one of the temporary booths that Jews at that time built to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles.

And now, Hannukah.

It was during Hanukkah that the good news about the birth of Jesus was given to a girl in her teens... The heavenly Father was borrowing her womb so His Son could be born as a man. She was already betrothed to Joseph, so the implication of her becoming pregnant before the official wedding ceremony will surely be a great scandal to her and her family. No one would believe her if she said that the baby was the Son of God, and that the pregnancy was caused by a supernatural act of the Holy Spirit. Even in this day and age, it would be quite unbelievable.

And yet, she was willing. And she was obedient.

I remember that beautiful passage:

If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land...

- Isaiah 1:19

Hanukkah is all about willingness and obedience.

During Hanukkah, the focus is on the miraculous supply of oil that kept the candles burning for eight days.

Eight is the number that stands for new beginnings.

Hanukkah is a feast commemorating the miraculous supply of oil. The oil that did not run out for eight days, when there was just enough oil for the lights on the altar to burn for only one day...

Hanukkah speaks about the anointing of cleansing, for re-dedication, for rebuilding, for breakthrough.

Hanukkah is the feast that reminds us that Jesus came to earth as a human embryo at this time. And so, Hanukkah speaks about humility, and obedience... the obedience and humility of Jesus...

...who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God 

a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, 

being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, 

he humbled himself by becoming obedient 

to the point of death, even death on a cross.

- Philippians 2:5-8

Hanukkah also speaks about the obedience and humility of Mary, the beautiful heart of  Mary who called herself the Lord's maidservant, and was willing to let these things be done unto me according to Thy word, and the mother who pondered and treasured things in her heart when they were too awesome for her to comprehend.

Hanukkah speaks of faith, to trust that the Father knows best, when the way is dark.

As December comes to an end, I name this month, and this year 2016, Miraculous Provision.

Yes, I am so thankful that God has made me the recipient of His miraculous provision.

Today my heart is ready for Hanukkah.

Starting tonight, and for the next seven days, I will light the Hanukkah candles, and remember the true meaning of this season for me.

Getting ready to light the candles for Hanukkah Day 1
at sundown tonight.

Originally published in my main blog: Crown of Beauty

He Establishes My Boundaries

Proverbs 15:25

The Lord reminded me of this Scripture passage this morning. All the different versions of this passage speak life, hope, confidence, encouragement, security, and assurance to my heart. His word never lies. Those who put their trust in Him will never be put to shame.

His word is eternal and trustworthy, speaking truth. In Him I will dwell secure. In Him I rest my case.


New International Version
The LORD tears down the house of the proud, but he sets the widow's boundary stones in place.

New Living Translation
The LORD tears down the house of the proud, but he protects the property of widows.

English Standard Version
The LORD tears down the house of the proud but maintains the widow’s boundaries.

New American Standard Bible
The LORD will tear down the house of the proud, But He will establish the boundary of the widow.

King James Bible
The LORD will destroy the house of the proud: but he will establish the border of the widow.

Holman Christian Standard Bible
The LORD destroys the house of the proud, but He protects the widow's territory.

International Standard Version
The house of the proud the LORD will demolish, but he will protect the widow's boundary line.

NET Bible
The LORD tears down the house of the proud, but he maintains the boundaries of the widow.

New Heart English Bible
The LORD will uproot the house of the proud, but he will keep the widow's borders intact.

Aramaic Bible in Plain English
Lord Jehovah breaks down the house of the proud and he strengthens the border of the widows.

GOD'S WORD® Translation
The LORD tears down the house of an arrogant person, but he protects the property of widows.

JPS Tanakh 1917
The LORD will pluck up the house of the proud; But He will establish the border of the widow.

New American Standard 1977
The LORD will tear down the house of the proud,
But He will establish the boundary of the widow.

Jubilee Bible 2000
The LORD will destroy the house of the proud, but he will establish the inheritance of the widow.

King James 2000 Bible
The LORD will destroy the house of the proud: but he will establish the boundary of the widow.

American King James Version
The LORD will destroy the house of the proud: but he will establish the border of the widow.

American Standard Version
Jehovah will root up the house of the proud; But he will establish the border of the widow.

Douay-Rheims Bible
The Lord will destroy the house of the proud: and will strengthen the borders of the widow.

Darby Bible Translation
Jehovah plucketh up the house of the proud; but he establisheth the boundary of the widow.

English Revised Version
The LORD will root up the house of the proud: but he will establish the border of the widow.

Webster's Bible Translation
The LORD will destroy the house of the proud: but he will establish the border of the widow.

World English Bible
Yahweh will uproot the house of the proud, but he will keep the widow's borders intact.

Young's Literal Translation
The house of the proud Jehovah pulleth down, And He setteth up the border of the widow.


Here are other passages promising protection and help for the fatherless and the widow:



He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow... Deuteronomy 10:18 ESV

Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation. Psalm 68:5 ESV

You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child. If you do mistreat them, and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry, and my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children fatherless. Exodus 22:21-24 ESV

Cursed be anyone who perverts the justice due to the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow. Deuteronomy 27:19

Because I delivered the poor who cried for help, and the fatherless who had none to help him. Job 29:12


2 “Enlarge the place of your tent, and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out; do not hold back; lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes.

3 For you will spread abroad to the right and to the left, and your offspring will possess the nations and will people the desolate cities.

4 “Fear not, for you will not be ashamed; be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced; for you will forget the shame of your youth, and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.

5 For your Maker is your husband, the Lord of hosts is his name; and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer, the God of the whole earth he is called.

6 For the Lord has called you like a wife deserted and grieved in spirit, like a wife of youth when she is cast off, says your God.

7 For a brief moment I deserted you, but with great compassion I will gather you.

8 In overflowing anger for a moment I hid my face from you, but with everlasting love I will have compassion on you,” says the Lord, your Redeemer.

9 “This is like the days of Noah to me:
as I swore that the waters of Noah should no more go over the earth,
so I have sworn that I will not be angry with you, and will not rebuke you.

10 For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed,
but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,” says the Lord, who has compassion on you.

11 “O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted, behold, I will set your stones in antimony, and lay your foundations with sapphires.

12 I will make your pinnacles of agate, your gates of carbuncles, and all your wall of precious stones.

13 All your children shall be taught by the Lord, and great shall be the peace of your children.

14 In righteousness you shall be established; you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear; and from terror, for it shall not come near you.

15 If anyone stirs up strife, it is not from me; whoever stirs up strife with you shall fall because of you.

16 Behold, I have created the smith who blows the fire of coals and produces a weapon for its purpose. I have also created the ravager to destroy;

17 no weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed, and you shall refute every tongue that rises against you in judgment. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord and their vindication from me, declares the Lord.” Isaiah 54

Downward Mobility

... the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls,

who when he had found one pearl of great price,

went and sold all that he had and bought it.

Matthew 13:45, 46

It's been nearly seven years since my husband Ernie passed away in 2008.

After being married to him for thirty years, I needed time to adjust to life without him by my side. 

Many new things were happening to me as well. 

Youngest daughter moved out of the family nest to work in Manila two years earlier. 

Our two sons got married around that time, and soon after, two grandsons were added to our family. 

First Born son brought his wife to live with him in the home where Ernie and I raised our children, second son Worshiper brought his wife to live with us in the home next door that we lived in after Ernie's first heart attack in 2006. 

I truly wanted to get to know my new daughters well, to appreciate the unique persons that God created them to be.

A number of ministry opportunities were also being made available to me.

With all these changes happening all at the same time, I had a good excuse to take life in stride, and give myself time to settle down.

A year ago, Worshiper and his family moved into their own home. 

For the first time in my life, I experienced what it feels like to have an empty nest.

Honestly, this new season was a welcome change for me.

I had a sense of accomplishment, of feeling affirmed for having raised our children well, 

for having equipped them adequately for adult life and responsibilities, 

for having brought our children safely over to the other side of the deep river.

I enjoyed a kind of freedom. And it gave me enough time and space to re-discover myself.

To take stock, and to take a long hard look at what's ahead of me.

I haven't had time to go through our cupboards and closets, all the stuff that Ernie and I had accumulated and were meaningful to our family in a past season.

But I have long realized that that season is over.

And now, I felt ready to face the difficult task of going back to cabinets, crates, boxes, and suitcases of old things that no longer serve an eternal purpose in my life.

Ever since I entered the world of blogging seven years ago, my life has been enriched by the friends I have made. Many of my blog friends have also become my friends when I decided to join Facebook in 2012.

One of these cyber friends is a remarkable young woman named Colleen. 

In one of her recent Facebook updates, she wrote:

I read a line in a book once about a woman having so many possessions that she was made anonymous by them. Because of how much she owned, her true spirit and personality were difficult to discern. Rather than having just a few things that spoke of who she was, she instead was "made anonymous" by her excess possessions... Keeping everything hides who you are and disguises what's important to you and in your life. Keeping just a few things highlights your interests, passions, and personality!

When I read this, I felt like something stabbed my heart. 

It's been happening to me more often these past weeks, that stab-like feeling in my heart. One evening, I was listening to Joni Tada talk about the theology of suffering. At the end, I really found myself kneeling before God... not knowing what to say... but with tears flowing down my face, thanked Him for giving me the privilege to listen to such anointed words from a woman who had enough credentials to talk about the rightful place of suffering in our lives.

What I felt after reading Colleen's words was something like that.

I wanted so much to get rid of all the non-essential stuff in my two houses, and to only have a few important things.

Keep what is beautiful, and meaningful, and useful. Give away what I can, throw away what I should.

To travel light in these the autumn years of my life.

Look at these poignant words written by Jeffrey Tang:

"Minimalism is about becoming a high connoisseur of life. Being willing to burn away the chaff in order to enjoy the wheat of life, like a sommelier who discards a thousand cheap imitations in favor of a single bottle of fine wine, or like the biblical merchant who sells all his belongings to purchase a pearl of surpassing beauty." (Minimalist Connoisseurs)

As I read these lines, I am thinking of the terrible trap of self indulgence that many of us have fallen into.

These traps can come in many forms... pursuing hobbies and shallow relationships, buying expensive clothes and accessories and gadgets and cars to fill an inner emptiness, travelling to places to satisfy an inner restlessness...

I am not a judge of anyone who does these things, but I am free to judge and evaluate my own life.

Right now, my deep desire is to rid my inner and outer life of clutter, and am so thankful to Abba Father for the realization and motivation.

I end this post with this Bible story:

Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, "Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me." 

And Jesus answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her. - Luke 10:38-42

When I keep only a few precious and beautiful things, I free myself to enjoy more of what Father God intended for me to enjoy.

Like Mary, I want to choose the good part, that one thing which is needful.

In these the sunset years of my life, I want to be a connoisseur of life.

I echo the words of Jeffrey Tang:

"Be a curator of life. Edit. Leave out the junky parts. Don't be afraid to say no -- but when you find something worth saying yes to-- treasure it. Enjoy it. Hang it on the walls of your museum and be proud of it." 

On Being Broken...

Tomorrow our group the Women of Purpose will go to Don Salvador Benedicto for a three day weekend retreat.

I have been praying to Abba Father to give me the right theme for the devotional topics.

A few words kept repeating themselves over and over again in my heart...

Emptying...

Being poured out...

Brokenness...



Brokenness. It is an inevitable fact of human existence.

And yet we do not go through brokenness alone.

There is One who was willing to be broken and spilled out... that in our brokenness, we may turn to Him and receive healing.

I have walked with Jesus since 1973... I was a university freshman when I had a real encounter with the Redeemer of my soul... and I understood what turning the reins of my life over to Him truly meant.

That was more than 40 years ago.

This much I can say. The breaking is for a beautiful reason.

That we may be made truly whole.

For we won't stay broken forever.

There is a coming day of unbelievable beauty... and grace...

A coming day when all our questions will be answered.

And we will behold Him our Maker-Redeemer-Sustainer-Recreator-Lord... face to face.

And all darkness will be rolled away... and we will understand, just as we have been fully understood.


Meanwhile, my response is one of humble worship.

I am looking forward to our time of worship up in the mountains of Don Salvador Benedicto.



Here's a beautiful song. It leaves me speechless each time I listen to it.

On Being a Servant

The Provident Maidservant

image source

But Jesus called them to Himself and said,

"You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them,

and those who are great exercise authority over them.

Yet it shall not be so among you;

but whoever desires to become great among you,

let him be your servant.

And whoever desires to be first among you,

let him be your slave--

just as the Son of Man did not come to be served,

but to serve,

and to give His life a ransom for many."

- Matthew 20:25-28

Most urban Filipino homes rely on the services of a domestic helper to keep the house clean, cook meals, and many other daily chores. This is a give and take relationship, benefiting both the master and the servant. Many young women from the rural areas earn a living this way; the income they receive at the end of each month is a big help to their families. The family being served is only too happy to be relieved of the burden of doing the routine chores, freeing the man and woman of the home to pursue a career or livelihood confident that their needs are being met by someone they can trust.

My daughter, Obedient One, is privileged to have such an efficient maid living with her. Aiza has served us for three years already. What a tremendous help she has been to my daughter. This month, however, Aiza is home for her yearly vacation. So, I am in Manila for a few weeks to be with Obedient One.

Being a servant... this is not really a new thing for me. Growing up, I have seen servanthood being modeled before me and my sister by our parents. They taught us the dignity of hard work, the beauty of simplicity, the value of true humility.

In my growing up years, having household help was a privilege, not something to be demanded or expected.

I remember how Papa would always tell us, A woman who knows the value of hard work and who knows how to run her household will earn for herself a good  husband.

Seeing it modeled by my own earthly parents has its merits.

But seeing it modeled by Jesus Himself has made me desire to continually walk in servanthood and humility.

When my maid of 12 years left our home when my three children were only in elementary school, and both my husband and I had full times jobs, I was crushed.

From the day Ernie and I moved to Bacolod City, a year after we got married, there had never been a day that we did not have hired help doing the household work for us. 

I had become so dependent on my household helpers, that to suddenly find myself without one... was such a frightening prospect.

But that same night I bit the bullet and said to myself, "I do not want to live my life being dependent on somebody else to run my home for me."

Ernie and I agreed that it was time to teach our own children the value of work. We would only get a laundry woman twice a week. The rest of the work we would do ourselves, as a family.

It was very, very difficult at the start. But it was something we had also done as a family in my growing up years. I was grateful to have been given training by my wise father and mother.

Servanthood does something to your soul. It makes you humble.

It re-calibrates your expectations.

Being a servant doesn't allow a life of entitlement. You serve, you give of yourself... without expecting anything in return.

For my own sake, I had to learn what it means to serve with joy and gladness, not grudgingly, or with a complaining, resentful spirit. I saw my parents live it in their own lives.

But again, I have seen it in the life of Jesus.

Yes, I want to follow in the steps of my Master.

I went to Manila one week before my sixty-second birthday to serve my daughter.

She has a difficult schedule, and her office is several cities away from where she lives.

I know she appreciates all the help she can get.

Today was just a typical day for me. 

Because daughter leaves for work at 6:30 a.m., my day starts before dawn. I take a quick shower, then go down to prepare breakfast for both of us, and to pack her lunchbag for the day.

For breakfast: 

I boiled some sweet potatoes.

Cooked oatmeal.

Chopped garlic, tomatoes, bell peppers, and onions for the omelette... then cooked the omelette for breakfast.

Chopped some more garlic, onions, and bell peppers, diced the cooked chicken, and sliced the 

Chinese pechay (cabbage) for her lunch... then cooked the stir fry chicken and pechay dish.

Cut up the carrots, cucumber, celery, squash, and apple for juicing... then juiced the vegies and apple.

Set the table for breakfast... sliced the fruit... toasted the bread... sliced some cheese... etc.

Packed the lunch bag with snacks (raisins... dried fruit... cookies... some sweet potatoes) and the lunch.

Daughter and I then quickly ate breakfast together. 

As soon as daughter left for work, I continued to eat my breakfast, leisurely... did some reading at the same time.

After breakfast, I washed all the pots, pans, dishes, utensils, and cleaned the juicer. (We don't use electric dishwashers.) Dried the dishes and put them away, Cleaned the kitchen floor and counters till they were sparkling clean.

Fed the cat and the dog.

Swept the front yard, and back yard, and watered all the plants.

I rested a bit... then ate a late lunch.

After lunch, I did the laundry and hanged the clothes out to dry.

Then I gave daughter's dog George a thorough haircut... then gave him a bath... wiped him dry... brushed his fur.

Did some cleaning around the house.

By this time... I'm pooped. I'm not doing any more work.

I will eat a light supper later, and take a shower. Then I will have a little time for myself.

There's really not much time left for anything else... but this is my role these days. The house is big, and the gardens need looking after.

Daughter will come home at around 10 p.m.  Maybe even later. Tired from a long day at work... tired from traveling just to get home. But always happy to see me. She is always ready with stories to tell me.

I will sit up with her, serve her a bowl of bone broth... and iced tea with honey... some crackers with mango jam. And listen to her stories.

We will pray together, thanking God for how the day has been.

In bed, we will listen to soft worship music, until we both fall asleep.

Tomorrow is another day.

Servanthood. It is a literally a daily, routine thing.

The daily-ness of being a servant, day after day, is what builds the character. You have to be willing to do it, and find joy in serving others... or it will lose its redemptive purpose.

My life is not always like this, but for the next few weeks, this is how it will be.

And what makes my heart sing in the midst of it all... is the joy that fills my heart these days.

Thankful am I... for the opportunity to serve. Not everyone is given that privilege and honor.

Service is the language of grace.

- Dave Stone