Wordless Wednesday

Decluttering

Young netizens are agog on social media over the KonMari method, “a system of simplifying and organizing your home by getting rid of items that do not bring joy into your life.” 

This was created by Marie Kondo, a Japanese cleaning consultant, author of a best-selling book, “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up,” and now a TV host where she discusses the same.    

She is actually saying, ”Do not hoard.” 

Hoarding, my contemporaries and I believe, is age-related. When you’re young, at the peak of your career, you like to buy and buy things as though there were no tomorrow. 

But after I had left the workplace for good and embarked on writing, I felt the absurdity of hoarding. I realized that most of the things in my closet, cabinets, and on shelves “no longer bring joy to my life.” 

Except for my books, which always bring unparalleled pleasure, I am struggling to get rid of everything else—collection of key chains, clowns, bags, blazers, jewelry, doodads, and other clutter.  

Decluttering takes time. 

We have too much “junk” stored over the years. So we do it one closet/cabinet at a time, and wonder, “Why did I waste so much money and time on these?” 

As a Sunday school facilitator for years, I have often cited this verse:  

“. . . true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it. So if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content.” (1 Timothy 6:6 NLT) 

But I had to reach a certain age to learn it and by grace, take it to heart.   

OPM: O Promise Me

OPM is an acronym in the Philippines that used to mean Original Pinoy Music in the 70s. It has evolved into a catch-all term for music produced by Filipinos. 

We gave it a different spin in the ad agency where I used to work: OPM was O Promise Me, facetiously referring to anyone who says one thing but does another. In short, unfulfilled promise. 

This came back to me after reading on social media endless complaints about the traffic situation in Metro Manila. It has reached international fame when  Chris Martin composed a song and sang it at the Coldplay concert last week:  

"Oh, we can’t wait to play Manila again, But the traffic here is completely insane."  

https://www.tmz.com/2024/01/22/coldplay-chris-martin-manila-traffic-bad-wrote-song/

TomTom Traffic Index confirmed the insanity.  

This happened because of an OPM.  

Unwittingly, we too might have made a promise we did not fulfill.  

"I will love you forever" = break up  
"I will never leave you" = job abroad 

"I will pay you back on payday" = 48 paydays ago 

"I will lower the price of rice to P20/kilo"  = the cheapest is P55/kilo

Plus thousands more. And so, the expression "Promises are made to be broken" rings true.  

I now contrast this with the verses (ESV) I am reading on promises:  

". . . do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath, but let your 'yes' be yes and your 'no' be no, so that you may not fall under condemnation." James 5:12

"A false witness will not go unpunished, and he who breathes out lies will not escape." Proverbs 19:5 

"Like clouds and wind without rain is a man who boasts of a gift he does not give." Proverbs 25:14

Note to self: Beg for grace to resist making a promise I cannot fulfill. 

Photos: borrowed from the Net

Nerd Cred

A Nerd is defined as someone overly intellectual, obsessive, introverted, or lacking social skills.  He prefers to be alone working on his computer or spending time on his interest and shuns parties attended by people outside his circle of friends. 

The three-year pandemic did not exactly turn me into a nerd, but I earned enough nerd cred to enable me to have lenghty discussions with nerds.

Nerd cred? Hah, that's a new phrase for me too. I learned it from a crossword puzzle. 

Nerd Cred: the points one gets by doing nerdy things. These are suposed to make one cooler and able to have lengthy discussions with other nerds.  

My earned points are phenomenal. I have gone back to re-reading the literary classics and have begun reading Theology dissertations to help me facilitate our women's Sunday school. 

Even if health restrictions have been lifted, I still prefer to solve word puzzles and work on my computer than attend a party. I have turmed down invitations to many. I have also passed up opportunites for book talks and book signing. Not because I have no interest in any, but because of this. 

The last trip we took as a family last month incarcerated us on the road for hours. It's a bit (no, a lot!) of a torture that raises stress to its peak level if you need to go to the toilet/CR. 

So yes, I am okay with staying home, earning nerd cred every single day. I find grace here or it finds me. Now, cyber friends, can you introduce me to a nerd I can engage in a discourse?  

The Youngest MVP

On record, the youngest MVPs are Derrick Rose and Wes Unseld, both 22 years old when they were proclaimed.  

Much younger and more precious than those two is our very own Most Valuable Player, all of eight years old. She was our clan's unanimous choice during our last clan reunion. Why? 

Why not? She particpated in every game (sports and parlor). Alas, she could not yet qualify for the adult basketball and volleyball for obvious reasons. But that didn't stop her from coaching along the sidelines. She had the spirit and the verve to have won with any of the competing teams. 

Her name: Jeza, my grandniece.  

Yes, she was in the pool, in the field, in the hall--here, there, everywhere! Catch the pink markers and arrows below, if you can.  

Are you huffing and puffing yet? Not only is she a dynamo, she embodies what our patriarch (Lolo Berto, my grandfather on my mother's side who, together with my grandmother, started our reunion 79 years ago) required. 

A disciplinarian like a Spanish monarch of old, Lolo's order then was to continue the annual reunion even after they're gone. He bequeathed lands to all family members so that the produce/income can be used to finance the reunions. 

He expected everyone to participate in all activites. If called upon to sing or dance or compete, he must not be kyok (he has to deliver!).

Jeza is a true-blue descendant of Lolo Berto, and then some. Young as she is, she taught everyone over the age of eight how to be an authentic reunionite. We thank the Lord for this gift of grace.  

The oldies (like me, whose knees can no longer cooperate even if the mind insists) simply cheered and applauded behind shades and shadows.  

(Aside: Jeza does not live in the Philippines. Her parents dropped everything in some faraway land so their family can attend our annual clan reunion.) 

Breathtaking Grace

Almost every day, my eyes would be treated to a breathtaking view of the Manila Bay sunset, often described as the most beautiful in the world.

 

This was my route going home from my office. I'd always felt as though it was a reward from the Lord for a good day’s work.  

It’s been years since I left the corporate world; my travels here and there have become sporadic. The sunset is no longer a part of my daily repertoire.   

One day in December 2023, Bing, a peer in my erstwhile workplace, invited me to her intimate birthday bash. Not only would it be a reunion of old friends (once all 20+ years younger), the afternoon promised fun, laughter, and everything in between. 

There was a bonus! Big, beathtaking bonus: a view of the most beautiful sunset in the world! The intervening years have not changed it. Watching it with dearest friends made it even doubly breathtaking. 

A photo op was a must.  

And the party began. These spontaneous shots replayed the scenes of our youth. Trust Bing to always come up with an impeccable meet-up plan. This time, it was a unique, nostalgic reunion with a sunset view.  

Faceless Readers

Son #3, a lawyer, enunciated this as though handing down a courtroom decision, "No, Mom, you cannot upload photos of minors without their parents' permission." 

"But I am blogging about the SISFU Rotaract, how civic-conscious the students are. It's not about the children, who are just the recipients of their kindness." 

"Okay, Mom, you may upload the photos but you need to blur each and every face." 

That was a tedious process, but it's better than going to jail.  

I have always been proud of the SISFU Rotaract Club in the university where I teach. Most of the members have been my students. 

A bit of a background: 

The Rotaract began as a Rotary International youth program in 1968 in the US, and has grown into a major organization of 11,172 clubs around the world with nearly 170,000 members in 189 geographic areas.

It is composed of young leaders, ages 18 and older, who develop innovative solutions to local problems by partnering with community officials. By providing creative services, they help transform communities. 

In the Philippines today, one of our most pressing problems is the inability of 90% of our schoolchildren (ages 10 and below) to read. One of the solutions given by authorities is storytelling. It helps kids improve their understanding and retention of content. In the process, it is likely they will be interested in reading on their own. 

Aware of this, the club decided on a Christmas party that highlighted storytelling to children in a public school. They chose the book "Bully versus Bully" (illustrations by Leo Kempis Ang and published by Hiyas of OMF Lit) that focuses on another national concern: bullying.  

When they wrote me about the project and asked if I could partner with them by providing copies of the book, I felt humbled. Unfortunately, I only had three remaining copies. They said my other books on values will be as good as Christmas presents to the kids. The project was held on campus.   

Bullying and love of reading? 

Two major problems can't be solved in one sitting. But seeing the enthusiasm of the 41 children (with clearly delighted faces on the original, unretouched photos) over the story and the books, this project is a big leap toward a changed community. 

Without doubt, grace will carry the SISFU Rotaract through in their next worthy project. 

Back to Basics

After three years of squinting, trying to recognize faces in little squares on screen during our clan reunion, we finally met cheek-to-cheek right on original schedule! 

This annual get-together came back with a vengeance in the last two days of 2023 and on the first day of 2024, our 79th year. The three-year hiccup caused by the pandemic did not stop us from meeting, albeit on cyberspace. 

I call our 79th back to basics because it was like those reunions of old where the program concentrated on strengthening “The Tie  that Binds,” our clan’s slogan since the very first one in 1945. 

Our chairman (my cousin Lorna, whom I call my twin because we were born only hours apart) chose the theme, “Honoring Lolo Berto and Lola Cionang," the couple who started it all. Unmindful of the distance (she lives in the US), twin Lorna, together with the Execom based here, worked on the details and had a streamer/backdrop done to honor their memory. 

These photos are poignant and powerful reminders of our 79-year history:    

Our grandparents . . .   

had nine children . . . 

who birthed a big clan, now 600+ scattered all over the world and counting. These are those who attended the back-to-basics gathering.   

Exactly like how our forbears planned past reunions, the highlight was the worship service, where we thank and praise our faithful God of grace for daily blessings through the year. It is also to thank Him for the legacy of those who showed us the way—clan members now reunionited with our forbears. 

There are different opinions about clan reunions. Some opt out for varied reasons, but those who choose to always stay faithful and opt in (even in absence they participate through messages and love gifts) will continue this community of faith, singing in our hearts this old hymn: 

Great is Thy faithfulness

Great is Thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me“

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23 (ESV) 

Crossing the River

With my hands raised, I sang with the Praise and Worship team in my best alto voice. “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.”  In our world today, tomorrow is iffy, precariously dark and dangerous. 

But because our God of grace lives, “All fear is gone.” 

When we got to verse 3,  “And then one day, I’ll cross the river,” tears streamed down my cheeks.

After the hymn ended, I wondered why I was weepy, and maybe a way too melodramatic. But that is how old hymns hit me, especially this one, one of my late mom’s favorites, and one of the very few hymns that we sing in church these days. The chosen songs by the young lead singers are usually contemporary and upbeat that get us clapping and dancing.  

“Because He Lives” is relatively new. It was released in 1971, before my first son was born. But the melody and lyrics speak to me more today than it ever did.

After the service, faith sisters of my generation were each talking about how they wept as they sang the hymn. I was not alone!  

At this stage in our lives, we think about crossing the river. It is a hopeful, wishful thought.

Because anytime now, our Savior will welcome us home, or He will come and be with us in lights of glory, whichever comes first. 

Verse 3 . . .  

“And then one day I'll cross the river

I'll fight life's final war with pain

And then as death gives way to vict'ry

I'll see the lights of glory

And I'll know He reigns.” 

         (By Bill and Gloria Gaither)

Time is Relative

 Einstein was and is right all along. In his Special Theory of Relativity, he posited, “Time is relative.” In sum, the rate at which time passes depends on one’s context or frame of reference. 

Before computers changed the concept of time, snail mail had its schedule. And we were comfortable with it. A Christmas card mailed in the US in December, for instance, arrived in the Philippines in February. That was the norm.   

But today?!  

We laugh when Christmas cards from abroad reach us after December, as though snail mail is a total failure and obsolete.  

In defense of snail mail, it has exponentially improved. It still cannot compete with cyber speed (real time), but it has made a great leap. 

Here are two proofs: 

1) The card sent by son #2 and his family from the US reached us on Jan. 4.

2) The card from my brother and his family in Australia arrived on January 10.

Messages sent via snail mail are more personal, signed, slaved over with love, drafted and edited, and prepared for (addressing and putting stamps on the envelopes and licking them, plus mailing time), and therefore can never be replicated by GIFs and emojis cut and pasted from the Net.  

My age is showing. Yes, I am pining for those days when time was slower and people had ample moments to appreciate the grace that came with every ticking of the hour. 

Togetherness

“Togetherness!” my late mom would vigorously remind (or admonish) us during family reunions. More accurately, she said this in Ilocano, “Awan ti togetherness!” 

To her, it was a felony not to participate in all activities—away shopping, or napping, or talking on the phone, or even staying in a corner reading—because we only had a day or two in a year to be together. 

   

Mama would have been ecstatic, with no chance to remind us in a bugcaw (loud, emphatic pitch) about togetherness. At our last family reunion, we held hands every step of the way. 

By family I mean my four siblings and moi, plus our individual units. One of us is in Australia, but we were complete. He was with us through GC via photo exchanges. With technology today, can you tell who was not physically present?  

Twenty members of our units are likewise abroad, but were present in cyberspace.   

My niece caught my youngest brother and me (despite a 10-year age gap) intensely debating a non-issue  over the loud restaurant noise, made noisier by Tony singing oldies, because the official singer wasn’t inspiring togetherness.  

We had a one-year-old and an 81-year old in the same rooms, and no generation gap intervened.    

Awan ti togetheress? See for yourself. 

Memories: One Hug at a Time

What used to be a five-hour drive in the age of antiquity took us only two hours of easy driving (and one pit stop to relieve the seniors' quick-tempered bladders) to our reunion site. 

It took much longer to hug and chat with all 14 family members, whom we have not seen face-to-face since last year’s meet-up. 

There are actually 34 of us (my mom’s side), but only 14 are in the country. Yet it was a big enough crowd to rouse Atom (the world’s cutest and most adorable baby), who joined our reunion last year in his mother’s womb.

Dinner and laughter took place at Lola Nor’s, a resto that boasts of excellent Pampanga dishes. My usual dinner intake is small, but I made an exception that night. I polished off one serving of adobung kamaru (mole crickets sautéed in vinegar and garlic). 

It was my bane and blight. I itched all over hours later and had a fever. But the mind games and raucous ribbing prevailed over self-pity.  

We occupied one whole house ala Airbnb, with a swimming pool, a loft, and complete amenities that allowed for a complicated breakfast cooking by the excellent chefs in the family. 

Twenty-four hours later, we were all dolled up in our uniform (bearing the name of our family’s matriarch, Visitacion), ready for our souvenir group shots. 

And then it happened. I had a horrifying fall, face down. But I’d rather not belabor my suffering. Grace sustained me, and enabled us to join a bigger cowd—our clan, which has been meeting annually since 1945. 

The pandemic moved our clan reunion to cyberspace but at the end of 2023 and the beginning of 2024, we resumed hugging. After all, it was our 79th reunion year. 

At the clan reunion venue: hug here, hug there, hug, hug, hug everywhere. 

In between, we managed to assemble everyone for another family shot (only 14) beside the photo of our forbears who started it all. 

With each hug, more memories were saved in our heart’s hard drive. Next year, or someday soon, we hope all 34 of us can hug for memories to multiply.  

My New Favorite Book

Nonpareil is the adjective, or noun, I use when I refer to my favorite book of all time: the Bible. 

All the books I’ve authored this far are based only on facts, figures, values, lessons from God’s book: Sola Scriptura. 

Sola scriptura (Latin for 'by scripture alone') means the Bible is the sole infallible source of authority for the Christian faith and practice.

According to Wycliffe Global Alliance, the Bible has been translated into 736 languages, the New Testament into an additional 1,658 languages, and smaller portions of the Bible into 1,264 other languages. 

Why? Languages evolve over time, and the words and phrases used in the past may no longer be understood today. That’s why updated translations are necessary to ensure that the Bible can continue to be understood by readers. 

As for English versions, there are approximately 900 for now. 

Caveat: No single English translation will ever represent the original biblical languages perfectly, because the Bible's ancient languages do not function like English. A word in Hebrew, Greek, or Aramaic might not have an exact English word to match.

My maternal grandparents, the earliest Christians in our town, used the King James Version (KJV)*. I grew up reading and memorizing verses from that translation. As a little girl, it was a cinch to memorize as many as I could, including one whole chapter.

And I just recently found out why! The KJV has rhythmn, making it easy to put to memory.  All other translations that I read do not have cadence, not even New King James Version (NKJV). 

Son #1 found the version closest to KJV’s poetic measure but in modern language—English Standard Version (ESV). 

He gifted me one on Christmas.

 

Every year, his gift is a new version/translation of God's book. (I passed on last year's to my dearest sister Aie.) 

I am on my fourth day reading my daily ESV and yes, yes, yes, it sounds like KJV, only simpler. 

Although I still need to refer to the over-a-dozen translations when I write, the ESV is my new favorite! 

*"The King James Version is the world's most widely known Bible translation, using early seventeenth-century English. Its powerful, majestic style has made it a literary classic, with many of its phrases and expressions embedded in our language." 

Ain’t No CousinTall Enough

Only at face-to-face family reunions can one actually see visual  changes. The three-year pandemic reduced our yearly gathering to tiny, grainy photos on a computer screen. 

Suddenly, voila! We meet again and moi, now a certified super senior, was beyond shock to see little ones turn into hefty hunks or demure damsels, and bubbly babies into talented tykes. 

“Who are you?” I asked at every turn. 

One of my nieces, then a little girl in one reunion, cuddled a baby cousin. At our latest family/clan reunion (from December 30, 2023 to January 1, 2024), they re-enacted this heartwarming scene.

Their sizes may have changed, but ain’t no cousin tall enough, or short enough, or thin enough, or fat enough, can change the grace of affection and affinity that remains forever. 

“We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19 ESV)

Do Family Reunions Matter?

More and more people now spurn family reunions. Reasons vary: “I am neither  close to my mom/dad’s siblings nor to their children.” “I don’t need a reunion to re-affirm my identity with family.” “I would rather spend time with friends with whom I have things in common than cousins I share nothing with but blood.” “It’s expensive to attend one.”  

My personal answer to the question: Family reunions are inviolable. 

I belong to a clan that has been meeting annually for 79 years. The pandemic was not an excuse—we reuned online! 

Family reunions are an opportune time to build cross-generational relationships and pass on family values. These two photos will explain it graphically for me. 

During our just-concluded 79th reunion (new year 2024), two of my nephews, both first-time dads, had a photo taken with their firstborn.  

In 1986, both nephews were still in the arms of their moms. Although one mom (right) had gone to Jesus’ eternal home, she lives forever in our hearts through stories shared year after year. The two babies (top photo) will carry on the relationship as their dads are doing.  

Steve Green's Find Us Faithful says it best:  

We're pilgrims on the journey

Of the narrow road, 

And those who've gone before us

Line the way. 

Cheering on the faithful,

Encouraging the weary,

Their lives a stirring testament

To God's sustaining grace.. . . 

O may all who come behind us

Find us faithful,

May the fire of our devotion

Light their way . . . 

Most of all, family reunions for me are sacrosant, because they provide a special time to worship together as one and pass on the legacy of faith, gifted and modeled to us by our forbears

2024: A New Year of Grace from the Lord

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." (2 Corinthians 5:17)