munting balsa

What Is Like To Have A Father?

2012-06-17T03:02:00.000+08:00

What is like to have a father? I don't know! I wonder what is like.

My father died when I was 9. I didn't understand his death. I didn't feel anything. Yes, I cried but only so I saw everyone crying. Was I lonely? No!

What do I remember about my father?

I remember him walking me to the barber shop owned by his friend. He seemed to enjoy always chatting with Mang Pepe, the barber. His barber shop was a typical one in a rural area. There's one seat and a ceiling fan that looked like a plane's propeller. Cutting my hair was a ritual. Something I couldn't disagree or refuse. I only knew that I just had to obey my father. I had grown accustomed to this monthly ritual. In fact, only Mang Pepe could touch my hair. I wouldn't trust anyone. In time, I had enjoyed going to the barber because it allowed me to looked around for a change.

After my usual haircut, which actually left a few short hair on my scalp called "chato" during those times, we would walk home in silence. One time, he bought me a glass of pineapple juice being sold by a street vendor. Unfortunately, the glass slipped my hand and broke into pieces. He didn't say a word but his look scared me. He felt embarrassed. That was the first time and the last that he ever bought me something to drink.

Going to the barber shop was the only bonding time together for me and my father. We never talked. I don't remember any conversation I had with him. I don't know if he loved me. Maybe, he did.

Every morning, he would go to his brother's place to have a cup of coffee. In his return, he always brought home a slice of bread for me. That would be my breakfast. In many occasions, I would come to him to ask "'Tay, pengeng singko." With no hesitation at all, he would search a 5-centavo coin from his pocket and give it to me.

Was my father so strict that I was scared of him? No. I wasn't scared of him. In fact, he never laid a hand on me. Among my other siblings, I was the only one that my father spared from a whip of his disciplinary punishment.

One early moning in October, just past midnight, the wind was still and quiet. Everyone was awake. The morning was cold and lonely. My father was coming home but this time in order to rest forever. Since then, my childhood life moved on without the presence of my father. My routine tour to the barber shop suddenly ended and I never tasted my morning slice of bread again. Sad to say, I never missed those things. Maybe, I was too young to understand what was going on; or maybe because we actually never talked.

Now a grown-up man, I already understand why he never talked to me. He was trying to save me. He didn't want me to catch his disease which at that time, tuberculosis was a deadly disease. My mother later told me, the last word she heard from my father was my name.

Happy Father's Day!

Let There Be Light

2011-11-28T20:35:00.001+08:00

1 Genesis 1-5

Then God said, "Let there be light;" and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

Life's not all positive;
Not all happiness.
It's not real if there is no sadness, no tears.
That's why there is light and there is

Darkness -
A time to rest.
A time for quiet times
A time to slow down
A time to heal
A time to reflect
A time to wait.

What is light without darkness?
The world is not what it is now
If there's no darkness and no

Light -
It is hope.
It is life.
It's a new day.
A new beginning.
A time to move on.
A time to smile.
A time to say words.
A time to hug.
A time to love.
A time to live.

What is life without light?
Life is not what is now
if there's no darkness and no
Light.

Happy Liturgical New Year

2011-11-27T00:00:00.000+08:00

Happy New Year to all Christians of the Catholic Church!

Recall A Happy Memory

Today starts the Advent of this Liturgical year. It's a golden year for me. I have never thought I would come this far. And I wonder how much I have done for this world. Looking back, the image that flashed in my mind is that photo of a little boy looking up smiling. Perhaps, it was his first time to see a camera. I don't even remember who was holding that camera up in that large window of the house.

Afterwards, since then, there was never a smile on his face again. In fact, during meditation exercises, each time a voice from the background suggests to imagine happy thoughts, my mind stands still, searching void. There was not a happy thought.

The Good Sign of Suffering

2008-09-12T03:10:00.000+08:00

When my mother suffered from Alzheimer's Disease and had been bedridden for 3 months before she died, I asked God why a very good mother like her would suffer that way. My mother perhaps had prayed for a thousand souls in purgatory. Neighbors would call her to lead a prayer for the departed souls almost every day. She's been doing this since she was in her thirties perhaps. Unlike other "mandarasal" who charges a fee, my mother never did ask something in return. She prayed from her heart in all sincerity. My mother was very devout and prayerful. Yet, my mother had her share of sufferings before she died. She could have died more gracefully, at least, to reward her for praying for a thousand souls, but she didn't. Why?

My mother's ancestral home in Pililla

God always answers my questions. With that question in mind, God did not spare. After my mother's death, I saw her in my dream, tormented and suffering here on earth. She was tied to a fence, bleeding from multiple wounds and battery of torture, severely humiliated for being naked in public. In my mind, I pictured her deserving of that punishment, yet, I was rescuing her.

Then, in my heart, I realized God was telling me something. God wanted her to go straight to heaven. It was my prayer, God listened. For that reason, God made her experience purgatory here on earth for the few mistakes that she had made so that she could escape sufferings from purgatory.

A few days after, my mother was in my dream again. This time, she was blissfully happy. She was saying goodbye, waved her hand, and smiled as she stood on the ocean's breakwater. In my heart, she was telling me, she was going to heaven.

Since I was a young boy, I had suffered various illnesses that prevented me from enjoying my childhood. I was asthmatic, they said. At 12, I was diagnosed with rheumatic heart disease. That prevented me from enjoying my adolescent life. Thank God, I got healed. But, then afterwards, as a young adult, I was diagnosed with chronic bronchitis and chronic allergic contact dermatitis that developed into urticaria, which I suffer from up to this day. Twenty years of suffering up to this date. Illnesses that prevented me to enjoy my life in a way that I wanted it. Why?

I remember my mother's experience. My sufferings are my purgatory here on earth. God is being merciful. Beyond this life, my suffering in store for me in purgatory could be unbearable. God wants me to escape that fate in purgatory, so while here on earth, He makes me suffer to save me. It's my passion. Indeed, our lives are patterned to Christ's life. He had to suffer for the sake of redemption. I had to suffer for the sake of my own redemption. With that, I had to thank God for this suffering. The price that awaits me is heaven.

But how do I know that? I don't! It's hard to know what to understand; which inspiration is divine and what is a silly thought. Yes, our suffering due to illnesses is our own purgatory here on earth. But I don't think it's God's own doing. I think it is we who create our own illnesses. If the illness is genetic, then it's our parents' own doing.

Love Is Never Wrong

2007-12-03T16:53:00.000+08:00

Some say that love is never wrong. What becomes not right is whom you love.

I'd say:

Love is never wrong. The one you love can never be a mistake either. It's just loving someone can either give you joy or pain, or both, one after the other. But you have a choice to make that love fully joyful and no room for pain regardless of whom you love.

My Set of Beliefs (Paradigms)

2007-08-11T02:44:00.000+08:00

My spiritual directors taught me how to discern when faced with uncertainties. One of them taught me how having a set of beliefs can mold my outlook about life. Later I realized how having a set of beliefs can help me in discerning about what's good for me or which choice is better.

Below are two of my guiding principles (or paradigms).

There's a reason and a season for every thing. Some call this as "nothing happens by chance" or "every thing happens for a reason" or "there's a proper time for every thing". Delayed flight, caught in traffic, or postponed appointment -- these could be good excuses to save me from harm or accident. With this kind of outlook, it makes me more relaxed rather than being angry or bitter or hot tempered and looking for any body to blame. If my prayer is not answered at once, I just wait. Patience is a virtue. God will answer my prayer at the proper time; or maybe, He is changing a chain of future events in order that things will go my way.

Sacrifice is a key to heaven. Jesus sacrificed His life in order to save us. After His death, He ascended to heaven. Sacrifice makes us go to heaven. It's not just about sacrificing one's life for the sake of others. Applied to our daily lives, we can make little sacrifices. Were you ever torn between visiting a friend who is sick and going to your office to attend to your backlogs? With this paradigm, you can easily make a choice. Sacrifice your work and visit your friend instead. When my mother was bedridden, I took care of her. I gave up my work just so I could take care of her 24/7. I made that decision because I didn't want to regret after her passing that I did not give her care. The beauty of that sacrifice was that I felt better. I felt no stress at all. On the contrary, it was my job which was giving me stress. When time came for my mother to meet her Creator, I was glad that I had made the choice of sacrificing my work and my social life.

Remember the movie "Constantine"? That movie was about sacrifice. When Constantine sacrificed his life for the sake of a woman, Lucifer couldn't take his soul because Constantine was bound to heaven.

Life Is A Journey

2007-05-31T11:04:00.000+08:00

"the Raft" is about my journeys — my thoughts, my experiences, my happy and sad moments, my hopes, my prayers, reflections, and "punto de vista" (points of view).

My friends and I were listening to Bishop Broderick Pabilo (then Fr. Pabilo, a Salesian priest), one evening in front of the Mary Help of Christians Parish Church in Parañaque. He taught us about this paradigm called "punto de vista". Since then, my points of view about life changed.

We see things differently — a different perspective, a different angle. What we see at first glance may not be what we truly see; or is just a part of a bigger picture. In every thing, there must be something there that we don't see. It may be something more significant than what we understand at first glance. This is the importance of "punto de vista". There must be a story behind the story.

Through this paradigm, I have become less judgmental, more sensitive, and more understanding about people and their behavior, and the events that happen around me, whether personal or otherwise. What amazes me is that when I look at things at different perspective, I discover life that I never knew before. Sometimes, it astonishes me about what I say. At other times, friends surprise me when they say that they were inspired about what I said in the past that I had no recall I said.

If this is what we call "wisdom", I don't know. It's not good to brag about it. I think that wisdom requires humility.

Why Munting Balsa?

"Munting balsa" is the Tagalog for "small raft". Life is a journey. We continuously sail to discover what life is all about. In one of my reflections, when I visualized myself journeying, I didn't see myself in a luxurious yacht or a sailboat. Instead, I saw myself sailing on raft made of tree branches tied together. Near the center was a thinner branch tied like a cross to which I anchor myself in order not to fall off the raft.

Munti lamang ang aking balsa.
Simpleng naglalayag.
Sa tungkod na krus, ako'y kumakapit
Tuwing maalon o mabato ang ilog na tinatahak ko.

Marupok ang aking balsa.
Sa hampas ng alon, agad itong masisira.
Iyon ang kahinaan ko.
Ang pagkapit ko sa naka-krus na tungkod
Ang nagpapatibay dito.

Munti man ang aking balsa,
Ito ay may yaman.
'Di man naaarok,
ito ay may lalim.

Malayo pa ang babaybayin.
Marami pang unos na darating.
Kung hanggang kailan ko kakayanin
Malayo sa pagtanto kong unawain.

Nais ko sanang matapos na.
Umuwi na kung saan ako nanggaling.
Lamang ay wala sa akin
Ang panahon ng aking pagdating.