In 2020, the first year of the life-threatening corona-virus pandemic, I lamented the loss of my September, when all events I prepared for were cancelled. My plaintive cry: Where are you? Will you ever come again?
Well, it did!
Three years later, today, I found September again and all through 30 days, 24/7, it swallowed me up, leaving me no time to come up for air.
I am not complaining; I am celebrating.
First, the university where I had been teaching for years before the pandemic offered me a face-to-face flash/crash course in Critical Writing (three sections). That occupied three days of my week plus two days of paper work and consultation.
Second, the Palanca Awards asked me to chair the board of judges for one category, which had about 75 entries.
Third, MIBF, where I launched three books, came alive with a vengeance!
Fourth, our family business—OTSI, a Medical Transcription School—that son #1 transitioned to fully-online training during the pandemic, has been blessed with unprecedented enrollees (I handle the English module) from various places in the country and the world.
Fifth, but first in priority, the Sunday school for women that I facilitate needs thorough study and marathon Bible reading of various translations. What makes the preparation much longer than normal is—to be inclusive—I decided to conduct the class in Filipino.
What? An Ilocano teaching in Filipino?! That must be your thought balloon.
September grace made all of these possible.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13
October is another month . . .
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