Today the prologue ends. It's the last day of the one-and-a-half-month OJT at Petron Bataan Refinery in Limay, Bataan. It's been filled with weird feelings, new experiences, and a sneak peak to my life in the next 5 years.
Weird feeling 1: I like working here in the sense that I can use what I learn. But so many people discourage me because of the low pay. I shouldn't be bothered. Me, of all people, worrying about low pay? Wasn't I the one whose great drean us a simple life? Weird feeling #2: I love her but my heart is cold. Is this God's work? I don't understand. My heart beats for a while then stops suddenly. I'm doubting the rhema I received: to wait until graduation. Frankly, I'm scared. Will I find a partner? Chances are low after graduation. Especially here in Limay, where I don't know anyone.
New experiences: quite too many to mention. Safety, process integration, major equipments, firefighting, etc.
One thing that really bothers me is the lack of time for myself, or rather, for God. If I really have to socialize from day until night like this for the next 5 years, I'd have no doubt that I will backslide. In fact, I'm losing focus even now. With all these unstoppable influences hampering my mind nonstop, I am withering and losing proper nutrition.
This is the work place. This is the real world. Yes, it is my responsibility to abide in Christ, to work for the Sabbath rest in Christ, to meditate on the Word of my Lord day and night.
I will set a time and rhythm. I will discipline the body. Every morning at 5:00 I will read the Word and keep it in my heart for the rest of the day. This is not to set a legalistic attitude but a fervent desire to seek Him.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Thursday, May 15, 2014
May 14 2014 Wednesday
Today I fought fire. We had firefighting training in the morning. The clothes were extremely dirty and ripped. There weren't much of size choices also. But who would even bother checking that in case of emergency?
I never would've thought that firefighting could be that exhausting. The extreme heat inside the protective gear coupled with the hot smoky wind blown by gasoline flames wore down the body. The smoke makes it hard too breathe while the heat makes breathing all the more necessary. Anyway it's a fun experience and a very practical one too.
Tonight I had seafood. The tita in villa leonor calls it "pinaputok na tilapia", along with buttered shrimp. The tilapia was like inihaw (so conyo eh??) but covered in banana leaf. It was oily but not 'nakakauyam' (funny how filipinos have lots of terms for taste), and salty with the savory smell of smoked banana leaf. Also the shrimp was incredibly tasty. The shell comes off easy and the intestines were mostly clean. It snapped between the teeth in the first bite and remains chewy yet easy to swallow.
Tita also prepared adobong sitaw. It was not sour, but had a balanced mix of saltiness. The sitaw itself was evenly sized, not too large nor too small. It was chewy and had good consistency since it was not overcooked. The right amount of garlic and onion gave it a variety of flavor and a savory aroma.
Well, we also finished the revalida due tomorrow but it's hardly as interesting as the food. I slept at 12mn because I had to wash thrice today due to the firefighting and good food (I sweat a lot when eating good food). I will likely lack briefs so I washed 3 briefs. I'll sleep sweetly then.
I never would've thought that firefighting could be that exhausting. The extreme heat inside the protective gear coupled with the hot smoky wind blown by gasoline flames wore down the body. The smoke makes it hard too breathe while the heat makes breathing all the more necessary. Anyway it's a fun experience and a very practical one too.
Tonight I had seafood. The tita in villa leonor calls it "pinaputok na tilapia", along with buttered shrimp. The tilapia was like inihaw (so conyo eh??) but covered in banana leaf. It was oily but not 'nakakauyam' (funny how filipinos have lots of terms for taste), and salty with the savory smell of smoked banana leaf. Also the shrimp was incredibly tasty. The shell comes off easy and the intestines were mostly clean. It snapped between the teeth in the first bite and remains chewy yet easy to swallow.
Tita also prepared adobong sitaw. It was not sour, but had a balanced mix of saltiness. The sitaw itself was evenly sized, not too large nor too small. It was chewy and had good consistency since it was not overcooked. The right amount of garlic and onion gave it a variety of flavor and a savory aroma.
Well, we also finished the revalida due tomorrow but it's hardly as interesting as the food. I slept at 12mn because I had to wash thrice today due to the firefighting and good food (I sweat a lot when eating good food). I will likely lack briefs so I washed 3 briefs. I'll sleep sweetly then.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)