How could you preach without Christ?

How could you preach without Christ? I don't understand. How could you reduce the Gospel to petty things like witty statements and catchphrases? How could you leave Him like a topping, an icing on the cake, when He is the sweet Manna from Heaven, the Bread of Life? How could you remove the power of God unto salvation and replace it with your own pitiful wit? How could you glorify yourself along with the Thrice Holy God, to whom belongs all glory and honor and power and praise? For by Him, and through Him, and in Him, and for Him, all things were made, things in heaven and on earth, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities. He is the center of all creation; His glory, its purpose. To remove Him from the podium is the act of the devil. To stand with Him on the pedestal is blatant blasphemy.

Whether the apostle Paul instructed the churches or admonished the brotherhood to maturity, it was always in the Lord. His greetings are in the Lord. His confidence is in the Lord. His boasting is in the Lord. His instructions on food, marriage, and idolatry are in the Lord. The rules for holy living are in the Lord. Whether in strength, hope, joy, faith, or perseverance, we are always directed by the apostle to the Lord. We are in Him; let Him fill us to the brim; let Him be our all in all. Let His Word be our foundation; His glory, our purpose. And when we preach, we preach in the Lord. A preaching without Christ is sure to perish.

Christianity is not mere self-improvement. It is not concerned with mere behavioral changes, with mere positive thinking. It is a new creation. It is the work of God in us, as we work out our salvation with fear and trembling. It is the increasing manifestation of the risen Christ as we take up our cross and follow Him. It is The Spirit of Joy filling our hearts as we delight in Him.

It is a sure hope, that when the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, returns with His angels in blazing fire, evil shall be judged, and us who are righteous in Him shall share His glory. Christianity is the certainty that God works all things for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose. Christianity is the assurance that the Spirit of God shall bear lasting fruit in our lives - one that multiplies 20, 60, or even a hundred times, according to His grace.

Preaching without Christ is transforming people the way the world will. It may try to change us for the better, but will never be able to make us new. It will never be able to wash us clean, pure, and holy. But Christ - He is God with us, God in us, the Author and Perfecter of our faith. By His blood we are saved, and by His life we are changed.

May 3, 2014 Saturday

Today I met a lovely lady. Her smile is the full summer moon glowing a gentle, pale white against the dark depths of a cloudless night. Her lips were a sweet carnation. Her eyes were sharp; a discerning pair hidden behind her intelligent glasses, piercing through my soul with a single glance. She wore a flowery dress that danced whenever she moves her graceful figure, swaying in silent rhythm with her smooth, black hair that always lands softly on her shoulder blades.

She was quiet, but more likely just shy. After all, she's a writer. Writers are living books who make copies of snippets of themselves, sharing them with other people. They lie quiet and harmless while they are closed; but once opened, words and ideas unceasingly stream forth like a typewriter in the hands of a frenzied monkey. Not that she looks like a monkey; she's quite the blessed creature: like the moon to the sun, she reflects a portion of the infinite, radiant beauty of God.

I don't know her name, though. I didn't quite hear it when she introduced herself. It happens: those times that my mind suddenly blanks out to appreciate the sublime beauty of the wonder standing - well, sitting - before me. But one thing I do know: she is the loveliest, most interesting book I've seen this summer.

Miracle, Love.

Inside this pressurized, boiling pot of confused emotions, I finally understood: I love you. You may not understand me, but at the very least I want you to know that I love you. And I still will.

I chose to love you. I did not fall for you like some madman under a spell. Well, maybe I did. After all, I'm a clam that shuts out people. I never show my soft side. I never give the important pearls. But you manage to open me up every single time I talk to you. Was it your sweet smile? Your starry eyes? I don't know when I started to think of you all day long, or when I started to long to hear your voice and see your face. I can't count the days I've been lifting you up to God in my prayers. Perhaps I really was bewitched. Maybe I still am. But was that love? Could I have already called it love? Or am I just emotionally dependent on you?

You see, dear, when I distanced myself from you, I stripped off every single emotion I had about you. But even then I was not rational, because those flames red-hot deep beneath cannot be swept dead by a mere gust of the will. "Is this love? Is this love?" I would always ask myself. I was confused. And I didn't know the answer until I decided that it was "yes." I chose to love you.

But I'm too stupid to notice that you had distanced yourself too. What happened? Why? I guess I'm too far away now. Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry. Was I too slow? Forgive this lagging heart of mine. Did you hate me? What did it look like to you? Did you love me too, even for just a bit? I want to know.

But then, now what? Is it like the gentle wind on your smooth, lovely hair, whose beginning and end I will never know? Will it be over like this, feeling like it never ended at all, feeling like it never even started?

Maybe. It wouldn't have lasted anyway; not with the way we are now. We may never leave each other, but we very well know we can't be together. After all, we live in different worlds. I am a stranger here on earth. I am trapped here in a foreign country, and I will always long to go back to my homeland. I belong to a kingdom at war against yours.

Will you defect to the other side? Because there's no way else we can be together. Even then, do you still love me? Would you still love me? Did you even love me?

I love you so much, but it tears my heart to pieces. I would have devoted all my heart, all my mind, all my soul, and all my strength to you. But I can't, because I have devoted myself to the Lord. It is no longer I who lives in me, but Christ. And it is under His love that I must love you. And it is under His love that you must love me, too.

It is impossible then. You cannot simply choose to love the Lord that I serve, for to love Him is to abandon everything. It is no petty thing like changing religions. It is a change of heart. Such love is a gift of God, and the gifts and graces of God are nothing short of miracles. It would take such a miracle for us to be together.

I love you, my dearest, my one and only. And I still will. Know that I will always love you with a love that is pure and holy: a love that is in Christ. I will be praying for a miracle.

May 8 2014

Today I wondered about ghosts. Ivan and RJ both had really creepy stories.

Personally, I don't believe in ghosts per se. But I do believe about angels and demons. And I do believe that there is only one God, the Eternal Father, and one Lord, Christ Jesus.

May 6 2014 Tuesday

Today I drew an artwork. I don't know how I did it. Fine, maybe I knew a little. I practiced by myself during Artstud2 summer. Why, did I want to learn, you ask? I got inspired by C. Her hands are really beautiful. Anyone who has seen her drawing notebook cannot say otherwise. So I tried a little of sketching because of her. I read a book in National Bookstore in SM Fairview, actually. I just internalized the techniques but didn't buy the book. Not to be prideful, but I think my work is beautiful, haha. Yet I'm still not nearly as good as C. I could only dream to have even five percent of her skill.

Anyway, the sketch basically shows my feelings today, carried over from last night. It'd be pretty obvious why if you read the previous entry.

Also, remember the girl I was talking about 4 days ago? That lovely, interesting lady? Well, the entry about her is not in this random journal. I moved it to my other works, since it feels like it's a pretty good read. Anyway, she actually sent a friend request in facebook! I think I felt "kilig" there for a moment, but maybe (more likely, actually) it's just because I'm a little bit high. I at least know her name now. I won't write it here, but let's just call her by the name Israel. ;) It'd be strikingly obvious to those who know her. But it's not like anyone would read this random journal. Much less our common friends.

That encounter kept me pretty high throughout the day (no coffee! Imagine!). She also kept me inspired to finish this work (with feelings). I guess I have to thank her a bit also.

May 2 2014 Friday

Today there is a fire in the refinery. I learned from Chan, who got it from Daphne who was in the process engineering area, that Tank 331 was on fire. Actually, I was not at the admin building then. I was at the cafeteria happily buying a chicken sandwich. It was only 4:00 PM when the whistle sounded. I thought it was too early, and too long, and I realized from the safety training that it was a fire. So I had to leave my chicken sandwich (I hadn't paid for it yet).

I went out the cafeteria, and saw a black smoke rising. I rushed to the assembly point, just past the second gate. But when I reached the gate, I realized that technically, I am not yet an employee and this have no responsibility (not to mention that I have no training). So I was about to walk back and get my sandwich when I saw sir G. I asked if we have to go to the assembly area, but he redirected me instead back to the training room.

The fire was quickly put out. It only took around 15 minutes. I wanted to get my sandwich already but I couldn't find the timing to ask sir. After 7 more minutes I decided to go out through the back door.

When I got my sandwich I found out it had no lettuce nor tomatoes in it (not even cucumber). :<

May 1 2014 Thursday

Today I'm ecstatic. A LOT of things happened, I can't process them all, or at least not without writing. Where should I start? I guess I'll start at the beginning of the day.

Today I wrote a love letter. It's here in my notes, one without a title. I don't think it's appropriate to put one. It is a letter without theme, written for a special lady. I poured forth my feelings, melting together my beliefs and passions that have long been suspended and floating in my mind, shaping it with creativity, and finally hardening it with cold rationale. It felt like a masterpiece; like a rare sharp blade of a blacksmith. It was all my blood and soul poured forth in a single work. It was relieving. I could breathe calmly now as I think about it.

Today I saw Bataan. Rather, WE saw Bataan, I and my friends: Daphne (our gallant sponsor!!), Chan, Almira, Aaron, and RJ. Again, I'll proceed in chronological order. Daphne's car (her family's) looked really new. The aircon was cold and the seats were clean and without cover. We rode to Mt. Samat for about an hour.

During the trip I also tasted that veggie chicharon advertised by Daniel Padilla (sukang paombong flavour). It was pretty good, but it dehydrates me pretty quickly.

Originally, I planned to walk up Mt. Samat on my own. I wanted to try hiking by myself. But we were in Daph's care, so I joined in the climb by car. Since we left Villa Leonor at around 10 AM, we arrived there at about 11 AM. The view was breathtaking. Tall trees looked small toys and the plains and mountains filled the earth until the horizon. Sharp contrasts of shades of green and brown fill the eyes.

Then we toured the museum. The guns and bayonets and bazookas and mortars were really interesting. I didn't spend too much time on the photos and stories, though. I didn't like history much, even when I was a kid. But what was most interesting is the miniature of Bataan. It was really grand and detailed and beautiful. The mountains and beaches looked lovely. And it also gave me a much needed sense of geography. I want to tour more someday. The Mariveles mountain range looked really lovely.

Anyway, we went up the zigzag path to the cross. It was rather a tiring climb, but exciting. The cross at the top was taller. They say it's 92 feet high. We didn't get to the viewing deck though, there were too many people. Too many people always seems to spoil the fun. Or maybe I'm really not just a people-person.

So we ate lunch. It's the first time I've heard of "spabok". It's palabok, but with spaghetti noodles. And squid for meat. Unbelievable. It was sooo gooooodd!!!! It is a mixture of different cultures, Italian pasta, mixed with the Spanish palabok and the Philippine seafood. There was also a favorite: "inihaw na boneless bangus", and a separate inked squid viand. Unbelievableeee. Seafoooooodddddd. Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!! I looveeee iiitttttttt TT______TT

Then at 1 PM we went to La Vista Inland Resort. I don't like swimming pools. I planned to just remain in the small cottage all the while. It wasn't so bad being alone since there were 3 karaoke booths around us and they played songs I like (OPM, classic rocks). But my friends managed to pull me, so I had to use cheesecloth as a towel. The CRs were terribly dirty, and so are the showers. I saw improperly drained cubicles, stinking of urine and fecal matter. And a blooded tampon.

I waded a bit in the water, and I still don't know how to tread. I tried the slide but my shorts generate too much friction. :<

All that was nothing compared to the fun I had in wave pool. Being swept away by powerful waves, anchoring on strangers for support; it was a very humbling, fun, and tiring experience. I almost got drowned in fact. I got caught in a big wave and temporarily submerged myself when some random guy used me as an anchor. I got up rather quickly then, so I guess it's all good. The water was warm though since there were too many people. I can only imagine myself in the deep, cold sea.

There was also a bit of a drama, where some maniac who was taking advantage of the body contact. He touched even my friends. Had I known earlier, I would have done something. Well, someone gave him a well-deserved punch in the face so I guess that's enough.

After another hassle of washing and drying and changing clothes, we finally left the water and went to a park in Wawa. The air was sufficiently clean, and I had fun watching people skate and exercise. Sadly, the beach is almost dead. There were no seagrasses, and the mangrove area is completely residential. The planted coconut trees and bermuda grass hasn't been there a year, as they said, but they are already half-brown. No surprise there though, the park's design hardly exhibited even minimal knowledge of the intertidal zone.

Then we went to Daphne's aunt's house, which was just beside the beach. It was a very modern house. The facade was neatly black and white, and the inside is startingly simple and beautiful. It was also very clean. The walls and the rails were not greasy, and had no smell whatsoever (yes, I smelled it). The balcony had a decent view on the street below, and also that of the Mariveles mountan range. The rooftop had the sea on its east and the mountains on the west (not to mention the flare on the south). And also a clear, unhindered view on the lovely blue sky. I'd like to go stargazing once.

There were other events that transpired at night, but they are not as interesting as what happened during the day (except maybe for inked squid again for dinner. I love seafood). Actually, I held back in detailing the events today, since I can see it's plenty long already. Good night then.