Out of Old, New

Is a 25-year-old book old?

Not really. Think of the classics published hundreds of years ago that we still read and re-read. And the most-read book in the world today is overwhelmingly the Bible--the writing spanned roughly 1,500  years. 

But because my books are just a quark in the book world, a 25-year-old one is old. The last copy had long disappeared from bookstores.

It was the year 2001. I had fled from the workplace and decided to focus on my first love: writing. Rummaging through my baul (storage trunk), I saw tons of old manuscripts, re-wrote and polished some, then sent a thick stack to OMF Literature.

Some of my musings graduated from passion to publication. It would be a two-book series (non-fiction; inspirational genre), with the title “Gifts of Grace.”

That blessed birth has spawned and, hopefully. will continue to spawn more books (and blogs) on the grace in and around me.

Twenty-five years later, today . . .

This was posted to social media by a dear friend (whom I still have to meet in person).  She is re-reading the first edition of Gifts of Grace 2 (hard cover). This shook me to the core.

She said in part that no matter how often she re-reads the book, “it's like listening to your favorite old songs over and over again.”

The comments on the above photo almost undid me. 

From a male reader, “It’s not just the story I revisit, but the person I used to be when I first read it and that’s where the melancholy comes from.”

From an editor, “. . . fondly remembering reading the manuscript and thinking, ‘Wow, I didn’t know Pinoy Christians could write so beautifully without being preachy.”

And from a new reader . . . she finished the book in one sitting, and wrote that she was in hysterics reading the last chapter.

Gifts of Grace had a book 3, a part of the re-designed and updated softbound editions.  

Truth be told, grace covers the full spectrum: from A to Z, from old to new.   

Grief is Spelled as Gratitude

Sorrow and thankfulness are two sides of the same coin.

This much I learned on April 18, 2003, Good Friday, when our Mom breathed her last while my sister prayed Psalm 23 in her ear. The pain of loss was directly proportional to the appreciation of her life on Earth.

Grief never disappears. But over time, the sadness of loss is layered with a deeply-felt gratitude for the gift of connection within a brief borrowed time here on terra firma.  

Deep down, I still cry because Mom’s presence is no more, but I smile because of the memories, lessons, and joy, her DNA passed on to us. 

We all decided that we celebrate her life on Easter Sunday, whichever date it falls on, instead of Good Friday. For 23 years now, on Resurrection Day, my siblings who are in the country travel to the church where we all grew up and met the Lord. It’s the church that our Mom served all her days, even long after we had left to start our own families. There, together with the church brethren, her grace-packed life is celebrated. 

Me? For various reasons in the last decade, I could only join them in spirit and in prayers. They send photos and a blow-by-blow account of what had happened during the preparations, the event itself, and even their trip back home.

Resurrection Day! When Mom and all believers who leave this earth will be raised, become  imperishable and glorified, mirroring Jesus' resurrection. And there, we will have an unending relationship with our Savior and each other.   

“Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.” (1 Corinthians 15:51-52 ESV)   

Oh, to be Young Again!

Whenever I watch kids playing without fear of falling down or bumping into things, I say that phrase—not as a wish but as a pause for gratitude. I am happy seeing young people’s energy and risky spirit. 

As now a senior, I remember what my mom used to say (in Ilocano), old age is a blessing not bestowed on everyone. "Bold and daring" are two words I now avoid because the human body can no longer sponsor them.

And yet.

One Sunday, I was taken back to centuries ago when I stood as Ninang (principal sponsor) for little kids in a Dedication Ceremony. Huh? 

One of my nieces (from a dear friend’s womb) came home for a vacation from the US with her husband and child, Gio, aged six. She and her husband opted to have Gio dedicated in our church (where she grew up and her parents’ sanctuary through the years). 

When our pastor called for the principal sponsors, my niece’s mother tapped my shoulder. I didn’t have to think twice—what a privilege! I rushed to the altar and together with the pre-chosen young sponsors (son #3 among them), I witnessed the ceremony. 

After our pastor had prayed for Gio and all those that surrounded him, I felt a soul-stirring blend of awe, wonder, and commitment. It was a "day of firsts” for Gio, marking a hopeful beginning for his spiritual journey.

At that point, I felt as though "bold and daring" came running back--not physically, but spiritually--after leaving the world of the young.  

Acts 4:31, “And when they had prayed, the place in which they were gathered together was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and continued to speak the word of God with boldness.” 

40 Years Young: Christian Writers’ Fellowship

For four decades now, the Christian Writers' Fellowship (CWF) has been a community dedicated to developing skills in writing Christian non-fiction, fiction, and content that promotes spiritual growth. It encourages Christian writing as a calling, often focusing on faith and hope.

Founded in 1986 as an off-shoot of a writers’ workshop, CWF is one of the Philippines' longest-running groups for Christian writers, editors, and publishers. Most of CWF’s meetings (workshops and seminars) utilizes OMF Literature’s (a publishing house) facilities and support.  

It was at the OMF Lit’s bookshop where CWF celebrated its 40th anniversary, which coincided with Women’s Month (March). I was invited to be one of three panelists. 

I began my brief spiel with, “I was born with an itch: writing.” In truth, as a child, I always jumped at any chance to write. And of course anyone who loves writing knows that it has a twin: reading.  

"Writing is a ministry. Although I write for all life stages (from pre-schoolers to retirees) in different genres (non-fiction for adults and fiction for children), I focus on the grace I have received personally or through grace stories of others. I weave them into devotionals, storybooks, short stories, essays, poetry, and novelettes."

“Can you tell us about your writiing process?" asked one would-be author. 

My thought balloon: I always begin with thanksgiving to the One who gifted me with the writing itch. But I was not there to preach, but to speak about how I shape stories.    

"Creative writing requires no steps or formula. One can begin with a verse/s, a dialogue, a word, or an image. Or one can begin in the middle or the end. One can begin in the head, in the heart, in a notebook. Although I am a morning person (sleep and wake up early), the birth of ideas could happen at any moment. It can come even during REM sleep. 

I then shared my nine Chongisms, my personal principles which have not changed since I wrote them for a writing workshop in 2006. 

Why nine? Well, they are not the 10 commandments. They may be trashed, treasured or recycled by anyone who wants to consider them. 

The CWF—still young and relevant at 40—allows a writer to speak freely about how and why she writes. That's why I know it will thrive for another 40 years or till the great Author comes again, whichever occurs sooner.  

What Does R&R Mean?

R&R is best known as the abbreviation for rest and recreation, a much-needed downtime after days of grueling schedules. 

That’s what we were blessed with when son #2 and his wife came home from the US for a five-day vacation. Their last visit was 14 months ago—just in time to bade Tony goodbye.

A Baguio R&R it was. Not downtown Baguio, which is no longer as I remember it. Long ago, I could smell the pine trees and walk past through kilometers of sunflowers, run on green grass in open spaces. Along Session Rd., I'd find my friends.  

Does that Baguio in the days of yore still exist? Yes, at Camp John Hay.

Tall, scented pine trees 

The original ampitheater

We rented a house with commodious bedrooms, each with a toilet and bath—plus one more near the living room that's big enough for a football game. 

Camp John Hay (530 acres) is a tourist destination and forest watershed reservation, formerly a military base of the United States Armed Forces in 1900. It was a place of refuge for American military personnel because of the cool weather. 

I shared a bedroom with my sister, whom we invited to join us, as the Chong dynasty is not complete without her. Being always busy, she needed an R&R too.  

Then we had a chance to bond with the two Mateos in my books and my sis-in-love, Liege. 

For the first time in many years, we were together at all hours under one roof, had all meals together, bantering, chatting, laughing, posing for the camera of my daughter-in-love Gianina—a rarity since all three sons had turned into adults and chose their own lives.

Looking at the three together, I had a fleeting image of their father with them. But I turned my back and warded off the uninvited guest that goes by the name of grief. 

My R&R was different from everyone's. It was reflection and recuperation. It was a time for healing grace—embracing what is, instead of wishing for what it could be.  

Philippine Book Festival 2026

My Father’s Favorite Ride (illustrated by Domz Agsaway), is the 4th in My Father’s Favorite series of concept books for young readers. It introduces various kinds of transportation in traveling to many places in the country, an archipelago, by land, air, and sea. 

This book has been a nostalgic reunion between Domz and me.

After nine years (with a pandemic somewhere in between), we got to work together again after Dump Truck in My Heart. For this new book, Domz created a character that rides all the vehicles with his dog. And in every ride, he leaves a flower, symbolic of his appreciation of each journey.  

My Father's Favorite Ride is one of 15 (yes, 15!) launched by Hiyas of Omf Lit at the Philippine Book Festival (PBF) in March. This huge harvest mirrors the growth of locally published books in the last two years. As of 2023, 150 books saw print.

I hope this trend continues. 

It can help solve an alarming news from the PSA (Philippine Statistics Authority) early this year. “The Philippines is facing a comprehension crisis, according to newly released government data, with more than 1 in 5 Filipinos aged 10 to 64 having difficulty understanding what they read—despite being able to read, write, and compute."

As an author of books on grace, targeted at various life stages, I wish more publishers would consider launching a number of books every book fair. My prayer is that these excellent books will sell. In my two-decade stint in Advertising/Marketing. quality alone does not translate to sales. Marketing comes into full play. 

The launching of My Father’s Favorite Ride gave me an opportunity to be with humanity again—socialize with people in the literary world--after my unwanted guest finally left.