This is an all-time favorite of mine. I have seen this movie for countless of times already and I’ve been crying over it for countless of times as well. 😀
It is not your typical romantic, fairy tale kind of movie. In fact, the movie is just too realistic to dismiss that you’ll find yourself relating to every single part of it.
But in general, this is a movie on relationships and how God makes all the difference when He is at the center of it.
More tissue rolls, please. 😉
The Road
Imagine yourself on a highway which has a blind curve and you don’t see what’s behind it or if there is an incoming vehicle. You just don’t have any idea.
That was the feeling I always used to have. I was just cruising down this lane which we call “life” based on how this world defines it – complicated, troubled, dirty, rough, broken, pain, and suffering. They are but just some of the words that I could use to describe what life meant for me before. For I never knew who God and Jesus Christ really were back then.
Failed relationships.
They defined most of my past. It was always the search for that right love with the right person. It came to a point that I begged for it, and I sacrificed a lot to have it including my career, my studies, my family’s respect – all because of that enigma which we call “love.”
Love is all-encompassing. I can use all the words in the dictionary but not a single one will define it alone. Its definition varies. And yet it exists.
Yes, it does.
And the greatest example of this was through the son of our God, Jesus Christ – THE CROSS.
“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” – John 3:16
I got to know this kind of love when I got saved. It was that moment of surrendering everything to Him, simply because everything was too much to bear and I was lost. Not even my family nor my friends could help me from the dark abyss that I was in. I was helpless, depressed, hopeless, and desperate. Shame, guilt, and anger were creeping within me fast that I decided to reach out and ask for help before it was too late. And so I did ask for help – from Him.
“For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 6:23
“But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” – Matthew 6:33
It was my brother who introduced me to the faith. I was apprehensive to say “yes” when he invited me to go to church at Victory Fort. But after attending the first service, revelations after revelations happened. Miracles and signs began appearing that not even my brother have the words to explain them.
It was then that I believed that indeed, we have a God. And He listens and sees everything.
But it wasn’t as easy as that. There were times when I was called back to who I was, and I was not consistent in going to church because it’s far from our place. I also had a hard time having fellowship with other believers. I still felt incomplete. The faith was there, but not really there.
Until finally, an incident wherein my life itself was put at stake made me do a 180-degree turn. It was then that I have decided to search for a Victory church in QC and found one at GT Toyota Asian Center (Victory QC) inside my alma mater in UP Diliman. After attending a couple of church services, I finally had the courage to approach the concierge and inquire about a Victory Group. A few days later, I was assigned to one group led by Sheryl San Diego, who became both my friend and my spiritual mentor. She offered if I’d like to undergo a One-to-One Discipleship with her to which I said, “Yes.”
That was how my spiritual journey begun. It was a slow but sure process of a series of transformations – an old self being peeled off inch by inch, layer by layer until came the Victory Weekend. Victory Weekend was the most unforgettable moment that highlighted my newfound love for Christ and God – the beginning of my spiritual journey and the day I committed to have a personal relationship with the Lord. This was indeed Lordship and the life after.
Victory Weekend 3/3/13 (Photo credit: Charls de los Reyes)
Water baptism with Sheryl San Diego and Maj Yu (Photo credit: Joyce Tan)
I was nothing more but GRATEFUL, RENEWED, and READY to face the future. Even as I type this article down, I could not help but shed tears. It is not because of the past, but because I could not imagine living my life right now if it wasn’t for the GRACE – the gift of SALVATION.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come. The old has gone, the new is here!” – 2 Corinthians 5:17
It’s been two years since I got saved. My salvation and walk with God did not promise a storm-free life, but it promised a storm-proof life through the “Armor of God.”
“Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.” – Ephesians 6:11
Because now, I can confidently stand and say that by the love, grace and mercy of God, every heartbreak and headache will be just that. For your every loss, God will replace each of them with what you really need. You will be given new opportunities and relationships that will help you grow and nourish your faith. A new life so to speak.
And though I may fall sometimes, I know who to turn to and I know who to plead for help. Because I have a God who HEALS, a God who PROVIDES, a God who PROTECTS and a God who SAVES.
“But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” – Isaiah 40:31
“I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.” – Philippians 4:13
I have nothing to fear. Not even death. For I know now that everything I have is not mine. I have learned to let go and let God take control of my life. I have learned to trust Him with my whole life.
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” – 2 Timothy 1:7
I may leave this world anytime soon and yet until eternity I carry with me this verse that I hold dear in my heart:
“Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” – 1 Timothy 6:12
And I will praise His Name forever and ever come what may. GLORY BE TO GOD!
Victory Weekend 3/3/13 (Photo credit: Charls de los Reyes)
#radicalsince1984 #myVictoryStory #JESUSperiod
Vanda: Mom’s favorite. 🙂
Incredibly, I know no other specie of the flora and fauna that thrives beautifully on a host except that of an orchid. It is such a spectacular relationship that balances the call of nature, completing the chain of life.
Life….
It can be desperate, it could get completely obliterated. Unless you have something to cling to – a sturdy host. Suppose we let the orchid thrive on water, will it die? Will the water nourish it? Or it will just turn into complete decay?
The questions seem endless.
Why not let an air orchid grow with its roots dangling, suspended in mid air, with its stem attached only to a string? Can’t it survive from the air around it and rainwater? Why does it have to be on a tree trunk, a branch, or a hanging pot?
Questions they are that we, unfortunately, have to take as they are. Science may have an explanation for it. But if I ask the general question “What for?”, then, I believe there lies the danger of questioning even our very own existence. An idea that I dare not entertain.
Acceptance is as crucial as life itself. Live for the moment, some say. But worry not on the future. Take the past as it is. For they are matters that do not lie in our hands to control and manipulate.
So where do we cling to?
Now that is a very good question to ponder on. But I’ll give you a clue to the answer – HOPE. Who/what gives you hope is your sturdy host. Read between the lines if you may, but the One who gives eternal life is our hope.
That is the One where all beauty clings. 🙂
© Biboi Hilotin (https://www.facebook.com/BiboiHilotin)
In light of the recent calamity that killed thousands of people in the Visayas and Mindanao regions affecting several neighboring provinces including my hometown in Bicol here in the Philippines and as a Filipino, I would like to ask for your support, in any way that you possibly can, for the victims of the super typhoon Yolanda.
Please visit this link for a list of legitimate organizations/relief centers where you could send in your donations: http://www.wheninmanila.com/verified-legit-ways-to-help-super-typhoon-haiyan-yolanda-victims-how-to-donate-or-volunteer-with-legitimate-organizations/.
Or if you cannot, please join us in praying for our fellow countrymen. We, the Filipinos, will be extremely grateful for any help and support that you could offer.
To my dear fellow Filipinos, though we may have severely suffered, rest in the fact that we are never alone in this. We will rise and rise we will with the help of our fellow brothers and sisters from all around this world. Despite the adversities that have brought us down to our knees, our kindred spirits will remain to be strong and steadfast. Our cries for plea, our tears for our losses, our battered and tired bodies – it is our strong spirits that will never falter.
I pray that through these all, may the Lord God Almighty continue to shower us with His love, protection, guidance and provisions.
Continue to hope, continue to pray, continue to strive in finding the good in what was left – again, we are never alone.
May God bless us all!
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Wherever God would take me, whatever God would give me, I will bring with me two identities: first, I am a Christian and second, I am a Bicolana.
The majestic Mt. Mayon and I.
I can never be more proud of anything I have and whoever I have become other than those two I have mentioned.
Why a Christian? I am nothing and nobody without my God, first and foremost. My identity is in Him. I need not say more as it is what it already is.
Why a Bicolana then? Ahh, this is most likely where I’ll be explaining more.
I grew up in the province. I spent more than half of my life there. As of writing, that is. There’s no other place that I could ever call ‘home’ except Bulan. Yes, that is my hometown, specifically located in the south of Luzon island, Sorsogon City, Philippines.
Bulan, Sorsogon
It has a distance of 667 kilometres (414 mi) from Manila, 63 kilometres (39 mi) from the province’s capital Sorsogon City, 20 kilometres (12 mi) from the town of Irosin and 30 kilometres (19 mi) from the town of Matnog. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bulan,_Sorsogon)
Sorsogon City is a coastal area, surrounded by beaches of all sand color. From white, to pink, to black – you name it, we have it. Rich of natural resources, fishing and farming have been the sources of livelihood of almost all the Bulanons (that’s how we generally call ourselves).
Fishing
If there is one value that being a Bicolana has taught me, it would be this – knowing your roots. In other words, learn to look back from your humble beginnings. Bulan is the one thing that has taught me how it is to be humble and to be grateful. Humility bespeaks when the heart is in awe of the mediocre. I know you are going to agree with me right there.
I came from a family of farmers. My parents, my grandparents and the parents before them all came from humble beginnings. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them. Gratitude is what I could offer to my ancestors, for the sacrifices and hard work that they have invested in providing the best for their families.
I came from a generation wherein I don’t have to go to the fields and do the farming myself and go home with sweaty clothes covered in mud just to pay for all of my expenses and supply my needs. An experience I never had to go through and yet something that I would want to go through.
CIRCA 1980s: My mom, aunts, uncles along with my grandparents.
They say that for someone to appreciate the value of something less than its market value and more of its sentimental value, you have to work for it and have it like how it is usually done and achieved. You have to sweat it out, so to speak.
I was listening to the podcast of Pastor Christian Flores regarding Victory’s new series entitled “It’s Not About The Money” two Sundays ago and he mentioned about the story of a farmer and how this farmer has invested his earnings in acquiring an even bigger barn where he could store more which actually resulted to his own destruction.
That made me thought about our farm, our farmers and what do we really get from it. For starters, our farm house did not change though how many years and decades have passed, we are earning just enough, we are still living frugal lives though we have acquired some possessions through time – still, I think it is not about the money. Money, for us, is something that has to do with survival but never to accumulate great wealth and live grandiose, rich lives.
I might be speaking out of righteousness here but if you will personally ask me, that is how I think it should be. I do not wish to dwell on this matter then and will just leave all the explaining to our Pastors as they lead us on with the series – a reason for you to stay tuned for our upcoming podcasts or better yet visit a nearby Victory church: http://victory.org.ph/. (Sorry for the shameless plugging, but I felt you would understand it better if the explaining would come from our church leaders).
victoryqc.org
This is the season of harvesting and when I went home during the holidays last November 1 and 2, I chanced upon the last harvest in our farm. I have skin asthma and as much as I should be staying away from hay, I know it would not stop me from going along with my Dad. I suffered the consequences later on – cough got worse and itchy rashes came out that last for usually a week leaving black spots on your skin that last for about how many months.
Anyway, the last time I have been with my Dad during harvesting was when I was around 6 or 7 years old. I could still remember how our parents would ask us (not really me as I was way too young, but my sisters and brother) to help in drying the “palay” we have harvested so they would be sold to the millers for a good price before they sell it to the market.
And yes, how could I forget all the scurrying here and there, to and fro when dark clouds come and heavy rains start to pour. It only means sweeping the grains, piling and covering them up as FAST as you can to prevent them from getting wet, thus lowering the chances of getting a low price as “palay” buyers measure the moisture content of the rice grains. The drier the grain is, the higher its market value.
Harvesting and threshing of palay.
My Dad is not a farmer per se. He is a civil engineer who juggled two occupations at the same time – that of a farmer and a superintendent at the National Irrigation Administration in the Bicol region (officially at San Ramon, OIC in Masbate and Sorsogon City). He is now 74 years old, retired from his engineering career and yet a continuing farmer. I have always admired my Dad, how at his age, still manages to do what he would always do at the farm despite his arthritis, gout attacks, hypertension, cataract and other illnesses of the aged. Although we don’t dry the harvested rice grains anymore to lessen the stress level of all the scurrying and hurrying, tending the farm is still a busy work to do.
I went to the farm with my Dad not to harvest the grains myself and have them threshed out but witness how it is usually done. I have to get into the particulars as to how to do this and that. Well, I might consider farming as my job someday. Yes, “Tin” the farm girl. *wink* I think I heard my Kuya’s sarcastic chuckle back there again. Haha Yeah, right. And yes, I wanted to observe how our farmers do it – our trusted and loyal workers. I admired them more than I have admired an office employee (no offense to office workers). But hard labor is no easy job. Exposed in the heat of the sun, bending over for hours either planting rice seedlings or harvesting them, soaked in mud or inhaling the itchy hay dust when threshing are, for me, among the most challenging tasks.
I closely looked at all of them. I saw Tio Digoy and Tio Kadog – they are the oldest among all of them. They have been working for my Dad since I was a kid. Now, their sons are working for us as well. I have learned to love them for all that they have put up for me and my family. I am praying that someday, through us, their sons, daughters and grandchildren will have a better future because of their parents and grandparents’ hard work. Though that means we might lose workers in our farms, it would also be equivalent to giving everyone the chance to have better lives than what they have now.
I am praying too that someday, there will no longer be a need for manual labor and everything will be run by machines, operated in a clean office from planting to harvesting rice. And that goes as well for harvesting coconuts and converting them into copra. The team of Tio Digoy also does them for us. Skilled, they really are. My family and I will always be grateful to them. We will always be grateful to Him for any blessing that He has bestowed as well as for His guidance and protection not just to me and my family but to our workers and their families as well.
Coconuts being made into copra.
So if you think this is what I do in Bicol:
Think again, because this is what I usually do:
“Tin, The Farm Girl”
Well, aside from washing the dishes, cleaning the house, feeding the pets, etc. and having a little vacation time. We have no helpers/”yayas” back home and here in Manila, by the way.
Now, that is who I really am. Look back, give back and be grateful.
“Lighted Candle”
For the past few months, I have dwelt on only one question: “why?”
But it is not for me to question what God’s plans are for me. Nor is it right for me to contemplate on it and doubt. But then again, I am sure about 3 things:
1. I was meant to experience what I have experienced for the past weeks and months.
2. I was meant to be where I am right now.
3. I was meant to do what I am doing now.
Now, it all became clear to me. The answers to my “whys” were given. I have asked God to prepare me and to equip me. And He did.
Experience is the best teacher, as they say. God gave me circumstances to make me realize that last semester was not the right time for me to pursue my thesis in my grad study but this semester. He gave me a job while I am doing my graduate study to prepare me emotionally, mentally and spiritually for what is to come. And lastly, He planned my stay in my job as short-lived because I have a prior commitment, which is, being a Family Support Volunteer in the Community Outreach Ministry.
I guess it all boils down to one thing – like a flame in a candle, keep your faith burning. Surely, it’ll lead you out of the darkness. 🙂
No. I wasn’t arrested. Just in case you are wondering. 🙂
It was my first time being in jail. I was nervous. I have always thought of prisons in a very negative manner – a correctional facility for the “bad guys” of society. I expected to see and experience the worst – prisoners taunting us, throwing things while we are looking around, screaming, a dirty environment, and prison cells.
That was before I entered the compound of the Davao City Jail. When I got inside, I was surprised. I saw colourful homes with curtained windows, flowers, plants, trees, and a pavilion with a stage decorated for a program. I saw women sweeping the yard, washing laundry, creating and weaving handicrafts – it doesn’t look like a jail at all.
Yes, the jail wardens referred to the jail houses as “cottages” and the prisoners as “bakasyonistas” or “tourists.” Their quarters are indeed small cottages, and if you weren’t informed beforehand, you might think that there is a small community inside. Except that the settlers are all women, a correctional facility for female prisoners.
Slowly, I became more comfortable as our guide, who happened to be one of the prisoners also, toured us around and explained what the “bakasyonistas” are doing, what the particular cottages are for, and how the system in that community works. Our purpose for the visit is to learn about how they run the program on ALS or Alternative Learning System as part of the requirements in one of my classes in my graduate study at the University of the Philippines in Diliman.
The ALS aims to provide opportunities for these women to study and learn while inside the facility, to help them earn a living through the income generated from the handicrafts that they have created. As for the younger women, this will be equivalent to a vocational course that would certify them to get decent and promising careers outside when they have served their terms and are released from the facility.
Most of the “bakasyonistas” were detained due to drug-related offenses. Some accounts are based on a drug-busting operation, and they just happen to be included because they were at the scene when the operation happened, but were innocent of the crime. A classmate of mine and I were allowed to interview one “bakasyonista.”
Her name is *Rosa. She is 25 years old, 2 years younger than me. She has two kids already, and she’s been in the facility for almost 2 years. She and her husband were separated even before she was arrested. When I saw her, I never felt any apprehension about how to approach her. She seems harmless.
She greeted us with a smiling face, a bit shy. She carries a very light expression about her while we were conversing. We asked her about how she finds the ALS program and found out that she is one of the staff members in charge of the art decorations of the stage. She said that she loves to do artwork, and she is also one of the women in that community who weaves ladies’ bags out of straw.
She said that it is a very good opportunity for them that they are studying through the ALS because it gives them hope. It gives them another chance to start something good for a new beginning when they leave the facility. I asked her what she plans to do after she has served her term. She said she plans on putting up her own handicraft store, and she wanted to see her two kids, as she missed them so much already.
She said that she seldom sees the kids as they are studying, and her mom and relatives are also too busy to pay her a visit. They get to visit her once or twice a year. I asked her when her term will end. She was silent at first, looked at her hands laid out in front of her, and then she cried.
She doesn’t know how long she will stay inside the facility. In between sobs, she told us she misses her children so badly. Sometimes, even if the facility seems to be a good community and they are treated pretty well, it still feels lonely.
She said that yes, they may be seeing homes, flowers, plants – a regular community, but at the back of her mind, the thought still remains that they are prisoners. Although they may be free to roam around the compound, they still can’t leave the facility and mingle with the rest of society, free to do anything they want.
At that time, while she was talking, I wanted to cry too. But I just held her hand and listened. By the end of her story, I told her with a smiling face, “Don’t lose hope. Have faith in God. He will give you the strength to overcome all those feelings of loneliness and hopelessness. You will get out of this facility, you will be free, and you will be able to see your children soon.”
I changed the topic as soon as I said that to keep her from crying even more. I asked her what she did on Valentine’s Day. She told us that she was one of the “bakasyonistas” who conceptualized the theme for the stage decoration, and yes, she had a date.
After saying this, yes, the light, bubbly *Rosa was back again. I teased her. I asked who the guy was. She told us that the guy is one of the male detainees at the men’s correctional facility, which is the compound next to theirs.
So I wondered how they got to know each other. She said that it was through a dance group, where she and the guy were members, while they were practicing for a dance presentation. After that, they have been sending love letters to each other through a window. She is blushing while saying all these, and I can’t help but feel happy for her.
When our professor told us to wrap up the interview, I asked her if she could show me some of the handicrafts she had made. She showed me a purple and blue shoulder bag. Being a fashionista, I liked it right after I saw it. I asked her how much it is. She told me it is worth Php350.00, which is equivalent to US $7. I gave her a 500-peso bill and told her to just keep the change.
I was expecting her to say “Thank you” and only that. But no, she hugged me tight, almost jumping from joy, smiled, and told me, almost crying, how grateful she is. She just could not thank me enough; she told me she would use the money to buy her youngest girl a new pair of school shoes.
She then told me to wait because she had something more for me. I told her it is fine as we are also about to leave. But she still insisted, so I gave in. She returned a few minutes later with a coin purse and a belt made of the same color as the bag I bought. She is giving them to me, for free, so they would match my bag.
When she said that, it was I who wanted to cry right then and there. It is a good thing I was able to hold my tears. I thanked her and just told her how nice of her to do that, and for having a big heart. I told her that I will never ever forget her.
I asked her how I can contact her. She gave me the number of the facility and her full name. Afterwards, I hugged her tightly again, and she hugged me back just as tightly, smiling with a light and happy heart. Then, I had to bid her farewell.
As I was inside the van with the rest of the class on our way to our dormitel, I began to replay what had just happened. Those few minutes that I got to talk to her, see the community, and hear their stories, I felt like I had learned a year’s worth of experience.
As the facility is starting to get smaller and farther from our view, I can only utter a prayer. A prayer of hope for *Rosa, her children, and her family. A prayer for her that she would continue to look at life from a positive perspective despite what she went through, going through, and her sacrifices. That she would continue to hold on to her dreams despite all the feelings of loneliness, depression, and hopelessness.
Yes, I have faith. I told her to have faith. God is good and loving enough to answer prayers when we repent and ask for His forgiveness. He has a purpose for every single thing that we experience. I told her to be patient. God makes all things beautiful in His time. Just trust and obey.
Lastly, I pray for her heart, that though it may have been broken, though it may have been tainted, it still would remain capable of loving and caring.
It was golden. That moment was golden.
The Journeyman's Moments 