Working Birthday

“How would you like to celebrate your birthday?” son #3 asked me.

My quick reply, “By thanking God for His grace through my long years—and by treating the kids in church to dirty ice-cream [local nickname for sorbetes].”

He replied, “Okay.”

Then he added, “Why not invite the Dacs (my siblings and their families who are in the country) for an early dinner so we can work and finalize plans for the Clan Reunion.”

(We Dacs are hosting our 82nd annual Clan Reunion at the end of this old year and the beginning of the new one. It’s a job tattooed on our souls. Every nine years—there are nine siblings on my mother’s side—we toil. Every hour has to be planned to make the gathering meaningful for every attendee: from infants to octogenarians, now spanning six generations. We’re more than 400 living to date, but majority are abroad. So the meet-up each year gathers only over a hundred.  Still, the planning is a challenge because a clan covers all demographics.)

Being the eldest of the Dacs, per tradition, I should be chairman. But lethargy by wear and tear has set in, so I passed on the title to a nephew and a niece as co-chairs. Both smart, creative, and techies, they’ve actually been planning before being officially designated as leads.

Ribbing dominated the meeting, plus photo ops, masked as documentation. But our co-chair (the other was abroad at that time) got everything down pat.

Coincidentally, the theme they chose is “Pass it on.”

And oh, my dirty ice-cream birthday treat for kids went so well that even the youth, the middle-aged, and oldies crowded the sorbetero after the worship service.

Not only was it a working birthday, it was a simple celebration that worked well.  

The Green light of Writing

Q: “Throughout your writing career, what has been the most fulfilling part?”

This question follows me like a shadow wherever I am asked to speak about my now 26-year journey as an author since I left the workplace for good. It was an unsettling early retirement, but it finally gave me the chance to pivot to my first love: creative writing.  

After my first book was published, it has felt like I am on a road with a series of green lights. Non-stop. With writing comes book talks, where I am often asked that question.

My last book talk was with literature students in one university, where a magazine was a school requirement. They asked me that same question. 

 

A: "Feedback from readers," I replied. "Without it, I don’t know how a writer can keep driving." 

Feedback breaks the isolation of writing, validates creative effort, and proves that words resonate with others.

Knowing that my book, or a part of it, made someone laugh, cry, or think deeply shows that the intent landed. Encouraging words chase away an author’s fear that the book is pointless.

      

 Feedback redirects writing from a one-way lane to a two-way traffic that signals comings and goings, greetings and goodbyes, like human dialogue.     

Words of affirmation from readers are a green light, reminding me to never hit the brakes in writing.   

Turning 18 and Still Blogging

Dyslexic I am called by close circles. My doctor says, “Inattention.”

Sometimes I forget left from right in a huge mall; it takes 3 seconds for me to distinguish “push” from “pull;” and I say Dantu Date instead of his real name, Dante Datu. I wrongly put on my clothes backwards. Plus a hundred more. 

So I am qualified to say I turned 18 instead of 81, my age after my last birthday. It was celebrated in church with a surprise birthday cake from the women’s Sunday school, which I help facilitate.  

You are verrrrry oooold,” my youngest ading Dave says to my face. Then he sings the old hymn, “Nearer My God to Thee.”

And yet, at 81, I am still blogging like crazy. My pace has not slowed down—every three to four days, sometimes shorter.

Why?

My default reply, “Writing is my first love.” And now I add, “And my last,” after Tony said goodbye.  

Why do I write? “Why do I breathe,” I wrote in my blog profile.

But I am not old or odd.  

Morrie Markoff (an American) started blogging in his 100s until passing away at age 110 in June 2024. 

I started blogging, midst grace overflowing, in 2006, one year after I turned 60. My sons, knowing  how invested I am in writing, prodded me. 

It’s been 20 years. I will stop only at age_____, when the Lord says, “Time to come home.”

FGD: Inherited Corporate Gene

Research was a must before beginning any work on any idea in advertising. As head of the creative department, I had to attend or participate in qualitative research, one of which was Focus Group Discussion (FGD).

Roughly 12 or 15 people in a closed room with a two-way mirror answered the moderator's questions. Behind the mirror, I’d sit, watch, listen, and take down notes as the participants agreed or disagreed with each other, building ideas in a natural conversation. 

FGD explored feelings and thoughts. In the process, I got to know which direction to take creatively. 

I inherited this “gene” after I left the workplace. While writing a book, I conduct an FGD—the better to understand the reader.

My newest project is a book for Gen Z’s and Gen Alpha. I had read tons of research data about these generations, but I wanted to conduct an FGD to validate them.  

And so I did, among Christian youth.

My purpose was to find out if they still read; what types of literature interest them.

Alas, only a handful read outside of the Bible. The participants were raucous and uninhibited in a wonderful way. I found myself enjoying the fellowship more than the data.

But additional data I now have, and I understand them more than what research results have already revealed. And since the book I am writing is about grace (always!) for their generations, I think I may now have enough material to stand on.  

Christian youth are different from those who are not. While both groups share similar pressures and everyday experiences, Christian youth live by specific biblical guidelines because they believe in God, Jesus Christ as Savior, and absolute moral truths from the Bible.

This I believe. I hobnob with them at every church event and Sunday after Sunday.     

Presidential SONA: Bravo or Boo?

Every year, we listen to a presidential State of the Nation Address (SONA).  And every time, reviews run toward two opposite directions: Excellent or Mediocre. 

Photo credit: Presidential Commission Office 

For me, it is a combination of both.

Pro: it is the president’s constitutional duty to report on the country. He/she uses real economic data, employment figures, and completed infrastructure counts from government agencies. The SONA outlines actual bills, laws, and national budget priorities for the coming year. Journalists and groups use the speech to track government promises against actual performance.

Con: it is a political performance designed to highlight successes, gloss over failures, and polish the administration's image. The president spotlight favorable statistics while ignoring deep crises, persistent poverty, or controversial scandals. The speech frames minor progress as massive victories and recycle old unfulfilled promises to sound impressive.

In advertising, we called this objective and execution. The objective may be excellent, but the execution can miserably fail because of various reasons: greed, laziness, corruption, status-seeking, and indifference to what is good for others. That’s why the polished numbers do not match the daily economic struggles of ordinary citizens.

I am not a political scientist so I am not qualified to comment on the details of the political landscape on earth. 

But this reminds me of that SONA-like event in the Bible where the leader, Moses (Book of Deuteronomy) makes a speech before the new generation of Israelites on the plains of Moab just before they enter the Promised Land. Moses delivers God’s “SONA.” 

Through Moses, God . . .

    • reviews past performance. He looks back on the nation's journey, reminding them of His faithfulness, their parents' failures in the wilderness, and how they arrived at this moment.

    • restates the ten commandments and outlines the social, economic, and religious laws that will govern their daily lives.

    • lists the national blessings for obedience (prosperity, safety, good health) and the severe national curses for disobedience (famine, defeat, exile).

    • concludes with a call to action for the nation to choose life. 

    • renews His covenant with them—that even if they fail and get scattered, He will bring them back if they return to Him.

The Biblical SONA is beyond bravo or boo. It is the unchanging truth. No ifs, ands, buts, ors, maybes. 

Hidden Grace: Unnamed Women

About a hundred women of noble character are unnamed in the Bible. Why?

For one, old cultures recorded public histories through men. Women generally operated in domestic spheres, that’s why their names were not important unless they impacted political, social, and royal concerns.

But the main reason is for readers to focus on the story rather than the name. The message remains on God’s actions and interactions rather than the women’s biography. 

The stories of these unnamed women, whose faith and struggles are vital contributions to our salvation history, represent all strata of society—from the poorest of the poor to royalty

C.H. Spurgeon wrote that marginalized women are “powerful examples of hidden grace; God uses ordinary, unrecognized individuals to achieve His greatest spiritual victories.”

Indeed, the true power of the church often rests in its unknown, unnamed members rather than famous figures. Faith goes beyond social status.  Though anonymous, these women are fully seen, deeply valued, and intimately understood by Jesus.  

I marvel at these stories, which are our series of lessons in our women's Sunday school these months.  They are humbling. They teach us that no one should look down on the unknown. 

One story that has sat with me is found in Luke 21:1-4 ESV:

“Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box, and he saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. And he said, “Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them.  For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”

Often, we give from what we do not need. But the unnamed widow gave all her money to live on, more than all the others' combined!  

What does this mean? My net takeaways:  

    • Giving is measured by sacrifice, not amount. God looks at what the gift costs the giver, not the size of the contribution.

    • True giving comes from a heart of devotion, not a desire for public recognition.

    • No one is too poor, too young, or too insignificant to make a meaningful impact in God's eyes.

    • Percentage matters. The rich gave a small fraction of their wealth, while the widow gave 100% of her substance.  

What about tithing? To this unnamed widow, tithing is the bare minimum. She gave her all, as Jesus did three days later on the cross. He gave all of Himself--for us all.  

Unknown? To the world, yes. To God, these nameless women are deeply loved and fully known.     

Photo credits: An Army rising (top),Vecteezy (middle),, Shutterstock (bottom)

Still Fruitful

Two trees illustrate long, productive life in the Bible. 

One, the date palm: it can still bear fruit after 3,000 years. 

Two, the cedar of Lebanon: it remains to have unshakable strength and majesty at the same number of years (or longer if beside a stream). 

Psalm 92:12-14 (ESV) reads, “The righteous shall flourish like a palm tree, He shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those who are planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bear fruit in old age; they shall be fresh and flourishing…They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green."

“Retirement is not Biblical,” our pastor said.

Indeed. God promises that spiritual vitality and productivity do not have an expiration date; serving God is a lifelong calling, not a standard job. It is rooted in love and relationships, not  employment. We do not retire from them. As long as we have breath, our role shifts, but it does not end.   

I was tasked to expound on this truth among about 50 seniors during a gathering in our church. It was an eye-opener for me as well. 

The Lord assures us in our sunset years (despite the aches, pains, and dulled senses) that we can continue bearing fruit to honor Him.  I presented four how-tos that, I pray, grace will enable me to do myself:  

1. Deepen the Roots: Dedicating regular, unhurried time to scripture and prayer.

2. Mentor the Next Generation: sharing our hard-earned wisdom, faith stories, and life lessons with younger believers. 

3. Adjust our Service: focusing on spiritual work (listening, comforting, staying) due to physical limitations.

4. Guard our Heart: avoiding complaining, bickering, or longing for the good old days; cultivating a habit of gratitude.  

Still Fruitful. It’s living a life that continues to bless others for God's kingdom.   

Sistahs

How can two sisters, only two years apart, who grew up in the same house, be polar opposites?

This still puzzles me when my ading (younger sister) and I get together, now a rare phenomenon in this era of aching bones, wasting muscles, and fading eyesight. She lives 188 kilometers away, or four hours by car, six hours by bus, and—the way she actually does it—"nine hours by tricycle, buses, and modern jeep inclusive of waiting time!" 

I had written about this in one of my books (Gifts of Grace 1). But it seems like those pages are way too few. I missed to include that she loves the soil and I love the tiles. 

Why then can two opposite poles have marathon talks—now interrupted by some gadget scrolling—and intent walks in a book-sale shop?

Well, we are actually Siamese twins in the one area that counts: faith. Both deeply-invested in the redeeming grace of our one true King, Jesus. And that can take several volumes of matching tastes—in values, principles, moral code, standards, rules of conduct, and conscience. Here, we are on the same page. 

Sistah, we call each other in text messages. And sistahs we both are in the faith that keeps us alert, alive, enthusiastic in His service.   

Silent Saturday