Posts (page 2)

(second...) Count Your Blessings

Ahhh…an hour of contentment. A precious moment of peace. A few minutes of relaxation. Each of us has a setting in which contentment pays a visit.

Early in the morning while the coffee is hot and everyone is asleep.

Late at night as you kiss your six-year-old’s sleepy eyes.

In a boat on a lake when memories of a life well lived are vivid.

In the arms of a spouse.

At Thanksgiving dinner or sitting near the Christmas tree.

An hour of contentment. An hour when deadlines are forgotten and strivings have ceased. An hour when what we have overshadows what we want. An hour when we realize that a lifetime of blood sweating and headhunting can’t give us what the cross gave us in one day—a clean conscience and a new start.

But unfortunately, in our squirrel cages of schedules, contests, and side-glancing, hours like these are about as common as one-legged monkeys. In our world, contentment is a strange street vendor, roaming, looking for a home, but seldom finding an open door. This old salesman moves slowly form house to house, tapping windows, knocking on doors, offering his wares: an hour of peace, a smile of acceptance, a sigh of relief. But his goods are seldom taken. We are too busy to be content. (Which is crazy, since the reason we kill ourselves today is because we think it will make us content tomorrow.)

“Not now, thank you. I’ve too much to do,” we say. “Too many marks to be made, too many achievements to be achieved, too many dollars to be saved, too many promotions to be earned. And besides, if I’m content, someone might think I’ve lost my ambition.”

So the street vendor named Contentment moves on. When I asked him why so few welcomed him into their homes, his answer left me convicted. “I charge a high price, you know. My fee is steep. I ask people to trade in their schedules, frustrations, and anxieties. I demand that they put a torch to their fourteen-hour days and sleepless nights. You’d think I’d have more buyers.” He scratched his beard, then added pensively, “But people seem strangely proud of their ulcers and headaches.”

Can I say something a bit personal? I’d like to give a testimony. A live one. I’m here to tell you that I welcomed this bearded friend into my living room this morning.

It wasn’t easy. My list of things was, for the most part, undone. My responsibilities were just as burdensome as ever. Calls to be made. Letters to be written. Checkbooks to be balanced.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the rat race that made me slip into neutral. Just as I got my sleeves rolled up, just as the old engine was starting to purr, just as I was getting up a good head of steam, my infant daughter, Jenna, needed to be held. She had a stomachache. Mom was in the bath so it fell to Daddy to pick her up.

She’s three weeks old today. At first I started trying to do things with one hand and hold her with the other. You’re smiling. You’ve tried that too? Just when I realized that it was impossible, I also realized that it was not at all what I was wanting to do.

I sat down and held her tight little tummy against my chest. She began to relax. A big sigh escaped her lungs. Her whimpers became gurgles. She slid down my chest until her little ear was right on top of my heart. That’s when her arms went limp and she fell asleep.

And that’s when the street vendor knocked at my door.

Goodbye, schedule. See you later, routine. Come back tomorrow, deadlines…hello Contentment, come on in.

So here we sit, Contentment, my daughter, and I. Pen in hand, note pad on Jenna’s back. She’ll never remember this moment and I’ll never forget it. The sweet fragrance of a moment captured fills the room. The taste of an opportunity seized sweetens my mouth. The sunlight of a lesson learned illuminates my understanding. This is one moment that didn’t get away.

The tasks? They’ll get done. The calls? They’ll get made. The letters? They’ll be written. And you know what? They’ll get done with a smile.

I don’t do this enough, but I’m going to do it more. In fact, I’m thinking of giving that street vendor a key to my door. “By the way, Contentment, what are you doing this afternoon?”

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  I can do all things through Him who strengthen me.” Philippians 4:11-13

“And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20

(first...)  Find Joy in the Ordinary

We played every game we knew. We ran up and down the hall. We played “find me” behind the couch. We bounced the beach ball off each other’s heads. We wrestled, played tag, and danced. It was a big evening for Mom, Dad, and little Jenna. We were having so much fun that we ignored the bedtime hour and turned off the T.V. And if the storm hadn’t hit, who knows how late we would have played.

But then the storm hit. Rain pattered, then tapped, then slapped against the windows. The winds roared in off the Atlantic and gushed through the nearby mountains with such force that all the power went off. The adjacent valley acted as a funnel, hosing wind on the city.

We all went into the bedroom and lay on the bed. In the darkness we listened to the divine orchestra. Electricity danced in the sky like a conductor’s baton summoning the deep kettledrums of thunder.

I sensed it as we were lying on the bed. It blew over me mixed with the sweet fragrance of fresh rain. My wife was lying silently at my side. Jenna was using my stomach for her pillow. She, too, was quiet. Our second child, only a month from birth, rested within the womb of her mother. They must have sensed it, for no one spoke. It entered our presence as if introduced by God himself. And no one dared stir for fear it would leave prematurely.

What was it? An eternal instant.  

An instant in time that had no time. A picture that froze in mid-frame, demanding to be savored. A minute that refused to die after sixty seconds. A moment that was lifted off the time line and amplified into a forever so all the angels could witness its majesty.

An eternal instant.

A moment that reminds you of the treasures surrounding you. Your home. Your peace of mind. Your health. A moment that tenderly rebukes you for spending so much time on temporal preoccupations such as savings accounts, houses, and punctuality. A moment that can bring a mist to the manliest of eyes and perspective to the darkest life.

Eternal instants have dotted history.

It was an eternal instant when the Creator smiled and said, “It is good.” It was a timeless moment when Abraham pleaded for mercy from the God of mercy, “But if there are just ten faithful.” I was a moment without time when Noah pushed open the rain soaked hatch and breathed in the clean air. And it was a moment in the “fullness of time” when a carpenter, some smelly shepherds, and an exhausted, young mother stood in silent awe at the sight of the infant in the manger.

Eternal instants. You’ve had them. We all have.

Sharing a porch swing on a summer evening with your grandchild.

Seeing her face in the glow of the candle.

Putting your arm into your husband’s as you stroll through the golden leaves andbreathe the brisk autumn air.

Listening to your six-year-old thank God for everything from goldfish to Grandma.

Such moments are necessary because they remind us that everything is okay. The King is still on the throne and life is still worth living. Eternal instants remind us that love is still the greatest possession and the future is nothing to fear.

The next time an instant in your life begins to be eternal, let it. Put your head back on the pillow and soak it in. Resist the urge to cut it short. Don’t interrupt the silence or shatter the solemnity. You are, in a very special way, on holy ground.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33

its happening.
that thing.
when you write down your dreams and
then you sort of forget about them and then
you look back at that list and lo and behold,
they are coming true.

ive noticed that the things on my list that are
actually being manifested, are not the ones i
have clung to with white knuckled fists,
but the wishes i hold in my heart yet hold loosely
enough to not be attached to.

those are the ones.
the ones im not gripping to.

i wonder if that is the key...
and i wonder how i can possibly loosen my grip on the things
in my life i view as absolutely necessary...

i have always struggled with the concept of
non-attachment, always feeling that i was created
with an intense emotional connection to everyone and
everything to ever be "unattached."

all i know is that there is this magical combination
of not grasping, and i havent figured it all out just yet,
but its in the works.

Posted by jen at 06:01 PM  link 

thank you Jen. i'm a fan of this gal... she's so true!

In the tavern
     Rabbi Wolf entered a bar by chance. Some people were drinking, others were playing cards, and the atmosphere seemed heavy. The rabbi left without saying a word.
      A young man followed him out: “I know that you didn’t like what you saw in there,” he said. “That’s a place for sinners.”
     “No, I liked what I saw,” Wolf answered. “Those are men learning to lose everything. When they have lived the experience of losing, all that will remain is for them is to return to God. And from that moment on, what excellent servants they will make!”

Ten percent
     “To be like me is very simple,” said the richest man in Babylonia. “All you have to understand is that a tenth of what you earn is yours.”
     “That makes no sense,” answered the young man. “All that I earn is mine.”
     “Don’t you pay the tailor? Don’t you pay the baker every day? You can’t live even for a day without spending. You pay everybody except yourself. From now on, pay yourself a tenth of your salary. Don’t forget that the paths of wealth are magical and strange; if you take good care of that tenth, one day it will reward all your efforts.”

Beyond the port
     A hermit from the monastery of Sceta came up to Abbot Theodore:
     “I know exactly what the objective of life is. I know what God asks of man, and I know the best way to serve Him. And even so, I am unable to do all that I should be doing to serve the Lord.”
     “You know that there exists a city on the other side of the ocean,” replied Theodore. “But you haven’t found the ship yet, you still haven't packed your bags on board, and you haven’t crossed the sea. Why keep talking about what it is like and how we should walk down the streets? Put into practice what you’re saying and the path will reveal itself to you.”

At heaven’s door
     When Don Enrique died he went straight to heaven. He knocked hard on the door and a voice asked: “Who’s there?”
     “It’s Don Enrique Fernandez of Valdivieso.”
     “Well go away, there’s no room here for two,” said the voice. And so Don Enrique was sent to Purgatory. Some time later, he very timidly returned to heaven.
     “Who is it?” asked the voice. “It’s me,” answered Don Enrique.
     “There’s no room here for two,” repeated the voice.
     Don Enrique went back to Purgatory. One day he went back to knock on heaven’s door.
     “Who is it?” asked the voice. “A small part of God,” he answered.
      And heaven’s door opened to him.

Rigor and compassion
     In the heart of winter the samurai presented himself to the Zen master.
     “I am dying of cold and hunger and I have no way of supporting myself.”
      Filled with pity, the master went to the statue of Yakushi-Buda, removed the gold chain that adorned the neck and handed it to the samurai.
     The other pupils complained: "sacrilege!"
     "Why sacrilege?" asked the master. "You have heard tell of David, who ate the bread from the tabernacle when he was hungry. Christ cured on the Sabbath whenever that was necessary. All I did was put the spirit of Buddha into action: now love and compassion can do their work."

Wrong questions
     What is wisdom
      A Sufi story tells us of a man who lived in Turkey who heard of a great master who lived in Persia who held the secret of wisdom.
      Without hesitating, he sold his things, took leave of his family and went off in search of this secret. After years of traveling he managed to arrive at a cabin where the great master lived. Filled with awe, he drew closer and waited for the wise man to return from his morning stroll.
     “I come from Turkey,” he said as soon as the wise man turned up. “I have made this long journey just to ask one question.”
     “That’s fine. You can ask just one question.”
     “I have to be clear in what I am going to ask; may I ask you in Turkish?”
     “You may, “ said the wise man. “And I have already asked your only question. Anything else you want to know, you ask your heart. You don’t have to travel so far to discover that it is the best counselor of all.”
      And he shut the door.

Why God did not help us
     Master and disciple are walking through the deserts of Arabia. The Master uses each moment of the journey to teach his disciple about faith.
     “Entrust your things to God,” he said. “Because He never abandons His children.”
     When they camped down at night, the Master asked the disciple to tie the horses to a nearby rock. The disciple went over to the rock, but then remembered what he had learned that afternoon. “The Master must be testing me. The truth is that I should entrust the horses to God." And he left the horses loose.
      In the morning he discovered that the animals had run off. Indignant, he sought out the Master.
     “You know nothing about God! Yesterday I learned that I should trust blindly in Providence, so I gave the horses to Him to guard, and the animals have disappeared!”
     “God wanted to look after the horses,” answered the Master. “But at that moment he needed your hands to tie them up and you did not lend them to Him.”

It’s raining and can I go out?
     An old Buddhist story goes like this: a man is passing through a village under a heavy storm when all of a sudden he sees a house catching fire. Drawing closer, he sees another man – (the fable uses the beautiful image "with fire to the eyelashes ") – crying in his direction: “Is it raining?”
     The traveler is surprised.
     “Your house is catching fire!” he says.
     “I need to know if it’s raining or not. My mother told me that the rain can give us pneumonia.”
     Zao Chi comments on the fable: "wise is the man who manages to change the situation when he is forced to do so. Foolish is the man who does not trust the hand of God, only the answers of his fellow humans."

What is the first step?
     A man decided to visit a hermit who lived near the monastery of Sceta.
     “What is the first step of one who aims to follow the spiritual path?” he asked.
      The hermit took him to a well and asked him to look at his reflection in the water. The man obeyed, but the hermit began to throw small stones, making ripples on the surface.
     “I won’t be able to see my face right if you keep throwing stones.”
     “Just as it is impossible to see your face in troubled waters, so it is impossible to seek God if your mind is anxious about the search,” said the monk. “Don’t ask questions, just move forward with faith. This will always be the first and most important step of all.

She is a Czech immigrant ‘Girl’ who sees a ‘Guy’ singing with his guitar at night in the streets of Ireland. She says she really likes his music. He says he sings his own songs only at night because he fears no one will listen to anything other than familiar tunes in the daytime. She says, "I listen." He says, "But you only give me five cents." She curiously asks, “Do you do this for money then?” He shyly answers no.

They later go to a music store and she asks him to sing one of his songs. He hesitates at first but she offers to play along on a display piano. He teaches her the chords and starts singing one of his songs on his guitar. She quickly and precisely harmonizes with her voice and the piano.

The camera lovingly, visually guides its audience to the mutual connection that the guy and the girl share, as in their first, incredibly moving number together in that music store called, “Falling Slowly.” First, it focuses on him for a while, then on her, and then slowly brings the two together in the same frame and rotates from his perspective to hers.

The hurt they share in their singing involves their romantic pangs. She has a daughter and a distant husband back in her homeland, whom she married at a far too young age. His songs are all about his old girlfriend whom he resents for cheating on him but cannot get over.

The most tender moment in the movie is when she leans her head on his shoulder after she reveals a song she has written herself.

This is a type of movie that deserves to be seen more than ONCE.  A movie that provides a real heart and emotion that is rare to find.  It’s like we are listening to the musical we each carry inside us and that no one ever hears. ONCE hears it, though, and it rocks the soul.

"How often do you meet the right person?” 

Here's a story I came across recently:

"In the deep jungles of Africa, a traveler was making a long trek. Coolies had been engaged from a tribe to carry the loads. The first day they marched rapidly and went far. The traveler had high hopes of a speedy journey. But the second morning these jungle tribesmen refused to move. For some strange reason they just sat and rested. On inquiry as to the reason for this strange behavior, (they don't appear to be tired), the traveler was informed that fatigue was not the reason, they had gone too fast the first day, and that they were now waiting for their souls to catch up with their bodies." 

Pausing for a moment here and there takes conscious effort, especially at first but it eventually become a habit, and the habit will turn into a way of life.  In fact, it will most probably become a foundation stone in one's value system, because we simply cannot live fully or wisely without slowing down, without putting brakes, without awareness of each moment.

A Mathematics teacher, tells how and why, when after conducting a monthly test to primary 4 students, she suddenly heard a voice from within telling her to give lesson about faith and life right there and then. 

She started talking back to the voice within" "They are not the right crowd.  They are too young for this," she said.  But something inside her insisted.  She refused and walked out of the room, to the corridor, to the school pantry and made herself a cup of coffee.  She sat there for a while trying to let it passed.  But the inner impulse insisted.  Then she recalled her daily reminder, her covenant -- "to live her life according to HIS purposes".  She prayed, got up, walked back to her class and began to talk like having conversations in front of adult crowd.  Astound, everyone listened in silence, all ears and eyes at her.  She looked at each child in turn.  She said everything that was in her heart.  They started raising questions, some shared their thoughts and others told stories of what they have observed from grown-ups.

She was moved by the realization that these children, at their young age, are not just living their lives by being a child whose daily activities is to wake-up, eat, go to school, learn, play and sleep.  But they are the one who really knows how to live life to it's fullest.  They have the ability to understand the essence of life.  They posses the eyes that no adults can see.

Still completely overcome by the unexpected responses from these innocent minds, she concluded her not-so-ordinary lesson by a confirming question: "So, do we all agree that fame and richness cannot determine a person's happiness nor future success  in life but how a person value every moment of life and how a person firght what he/she believes in?"  Unanimously, they affirmed with a genuine smile on their faces and she sat down to her chair with a face reflecting a smile of a child.

She still does not know what task she accomplished that afternoon, but one thing she is sure of -- that she did accomplish a task.

I can consider myself as a passionate reader, a good listener and a confident speaker but not a writer. I normally share my ideas, reflections from what i have heard and read through face-to-face conversations. I can spend up to 4 until 8 hours non-stop conversation with a person talking about anything from basic to it's profoundness. Some friends said that writing is better because you can come back to it and have fun reading it again. Well i cannot disagree to that. There are lots of nice conversations i had with different people that had contributed to who i became now and vice versa.  As i recall, most of my valuable conversations and precious moments are not recorded in paper nor digital. It's all stored in my memory bank which by the way depreciates as time goes by. I really need a blog that i can rely on, even at the edge of memory loss. But how can i blog when i am not confident enough to write? I am lousy one when grammar is concerned. Since i cannot rely in my memory, i have and i need to do this for myself. As someone said, "Focus unto my goals and not be bothered by the obstacles along the way." Thus, most of the writings here will definitely be written in Tag-lish (Tagalog-English) for my own ease and comfort. My apologies.