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

Expecting a Surprise

The year 2014 went by so quickly.

Suddenly she's gone... and all I have to hold on to are the memories of the events...

And the lessons.

So thankful am I for the lessons that each year leaves behind.

If I learn my lessons well, each year leaves me a little bit wiser than before.

And for this day's post, the first day of the new year, I have borrowed a line from Henri Nouwen's Bread for the Journey as my title.

It was years ago, when I was still the principal of our church school, that an intercessor walked into my office asking to pray for me. She was a foreigner, and I no longer remember her name. But one line in her prayer stayed with me: "Father, may she always have an expectation of good things coming into her life."

Really, that prayer changed the spiritual climate in my life.

That prayer has never left my heart.

And today, as another new year starts, I must be honest that I am not quite ready for another year. Things happened so fast, faster than my heart had time to process what was going on. And a part of me feels like I haven't left 2014.

Nevertheless, one has to face reality. The old year has gone... the new has come.

And that prayer is really just all that I have to hold on to for the moment.

Father, this year, may I always have an expectation of good things coming into my life.

Here is what Nouwen has to say about expecting good things to happen:

Each day holds a surprise. But only if we expect it can we see, hear, or feel it when it comes to us. Let's not be afraid to receive each day's surprise, whether it comes to us as sorrow or as joy. It will open a new place in our hearts, a place where we can welcome new friends and celebrate more fully our shared humanity. (Bread for the Journey, January 1)