Seeds to see.

You should see my desk right now. It’s a mess.

And this is a good thing.

Comfort Zones can be prisons. I sit on my chair looking out into the just-rained front lawn of mine and I see about 30 birds partying, singing, and bathing in those puddles. They’re not a bother.

I took two avocado seeds and planted them differently. One in the soil, one stuck with toothpicks hanging and dipped in a glass jar so I’m youtubed-told. Something about seeing things grow. Of course I wanted the glass jar seed to show me something cause it would be so cool to see those roots reaching down slowly. Days after, I checked.. none. The one I planted in the soil had a small leaf sticking out. Oh, wow take a look, discovery news! I shrugged my shoulders and smiled.

Oh but what joy! Days after that, I checked the glass jar and saw ROOTS!! Long ones too! Seriously! I was amazed.

For roots to break through, the seed had to be planted and had to die. But the life after this is extraordinary with so much more to spring forth.

So instead of thinking my desk is a mess, I’m just going to saying it’s bearing fruit. =)

Okay fine, I’ll clean up. Laters!

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Mid year blues 2016

Just finished prayer and fasting and I would admit my heart was being ripped in all directions. I’m careful not to come in o, here’s my chance to get really spiritual and ask for what I want mode. Even if those things are truly good. Lord, what do you want me to want?

Please don’t think this is a formula, too. I’m just real-life storytelling. God speaks to us in ways we want to freely communicate with Him. I think that’s where He’s absolutely awesome. He knows and He knows how. Personal.

How many people’s voices I constantly have to push back to listen slowly to what He says. Persons who subconsciously or consciously set themselves up as examples of faith.

In seeking His will, I’d hear occasional “no, don’t go there!” with news and stories. Thin line. I understand though they’re out for my good but first of, I’m careful to speak even about decisions we have to make as a family cause it might be the buffet topic on someone else’s afternoon conversations. Which is not exactly what I need, right? Then there are those who’d give you the nice friendly reaction but once you’re not there, afternoon conversations again with another critique. Shaking their heads chatting away, but not feeling anything. Why does this feel good?

Thankful for those who remove their biases and world mindsets. This particular couple my husband and I go to have really .. I can’t even put in words. It’s like they’ve made us trust them, brought us closer to them but they’ve stayed at arms length. They keep that distance so that God is always the center of our relationship. They have so much to say about a lot of things but for our sake, they don’t. Instead, they zero in on what we say and they pray to God that they say the right things. They remove their emotions, but somehow we feel their love for us. They remove what they’ve heard about this and that, so that we can hear Him clearly and ONLY. You just know. They do it because they really do love. It’s real. Not following a to-do list on textbook. Not this we-wanna-be-here-cause-God-would-do-the-same. Because then they’d be god hehe. They do it because they are led. They are moved by His goodness and faithfulness in their own lives. They pour out effortlessly. They are not golden calves.

What or who am I really following? facebook, instagram, twitter? What could possibly be wrongly standing above me like a monument for me to be like. Oh dear God, break them down.

The world doesn’t apologize for the choices I made. I choose to have it stand in the way, or get out of the way. I did. Stop me from getting impatient and raising something or someone else to comfort me. The Lord is so very patient. Waiting.

During my fast, there was more smashing downs than checking faith lists. And He is God. Not just persons, but goals I held on to. He gave me words to utter so I can loosen my grip. Open my eyes, and watch it go away. Hard at first. Hard even now to remember what I had let go of. Deep down, this would stand in the way.

I can’t live without hearing Him, anymore. I’ll be lost. Scariest place to be away from Him.

Walk with Me.

10 years homeschool is done…for my eldest. happysad

First of all, Moon. Ending our homeschool journey. How much love I feel knowing it is done. He’s such a good boy, a blessing and a gift. He has taught me so much about me through this. His eyes like a mirror to my soul, and my facial expressions. Many days I’d feel alone in this, but I never was. My sons are with me, right there with me.

I’m excited, impatient, uncertain and certain. Insert all the emiticons right here. I’m my children’s biggest fans, supporters, prayer warriors.

10 years of first days and last days of school. White board, class bell (yes, tried it), red ballpens, sharpened missing pencils, printing worksheets, checking through the hallway and peeking in his room to see if he’s okay. It did end. I will miss being your homeschool teacher, Cairo. Thank you for the privilege to know who you are, who your friends are, what you can do, and what you did to me. I’m sorry for things I’ve put you through, made you go through. The mistakes I’ve made.

I surrender once again into Your hands. My heart will trust You more.

Thank You.

6 years with my youngest. Fleeting.

The past 10 years of homeschool was trial and testing, failing, joy and tears, weakness and strength.

Oh my dear God, I am so thankful that You stay with me. Keeping them with You.
That they would mature because they know You love them and You always will.

Strangely windy this supposedly hot summer day. Never know for sure. But to stay always in all ways with You.

2015 signing out thoughts.

Quiet Saturday evening. Me and my youngest at home. He’s fast asleep and I just finished reading. Been searching. The more I live, the more I cringe upon learning the deepest of me.

How am I doing?

The older I get, the more I long for a physical guidance. I’m making so many mistakes. Every time I do, I crawl back into a hole. Then, it’s that invisible strong anchor that gets me back out. Hurts me to find out that these things are true. It makes me careful and I have a handout in my mind of not-to-says (is there one?) and I try to remember it, but I don’t remember why I should. But being careful can make someone dishonest.

So it’s being out there with an honesty and humility that speaks courage. So many things posted. It’s so easy to post. So much to see and to be. But we live not so that we can be, but so we can see.

I dreamed of a horse last night. It was destroying a stage where candles were lit. As it was running toward a huge lit-torch, I ran for my life. I knew a fire was going to start. Tried to get them all out. I couldn’t. I panic when I can’t help because I feel I was trusted. I let them down, I let myself down. A false independence.

Isaiah 31:1
“What sorrow awaits those who look to Egypt for help, trusting their horses, chariots, and charioteers and depending on the strength of human armies instead of looking to the LORD, the Holy One of Israel.”

Thank You for enabling me this year. But You do this so I can see You near. Beside me. Not the horses.

Psalm 20:7-8
Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.

2015 about to sign out. Thank You for You.

Tell your story.

Every one of them ironing their clothes before setting out that morning. All 14 of them with no idea that would be their last breakfast. Every one of them with a story.

Who will tell it?

Been a full year for me. I’m amazed again at what God has shown me about Himself, about myself. So foolish to think there won’t be something new to learn, with every new year that starts. Grace to cry, to understand, to go through, to stand still, to keep quiet, to speak, to stop and to go. God so powerfully removing and replacing things in my life. He’s made me “unfollow” things (even people) I have been following but not supposed to. Not that it’s bad. It’s just not my story. The clarity set me free. Trusting the Author completely. Make it close enough to see, but not to the point that I can’t see Him anymore.

Eyes to see is faith built. What am I going to do without Him? There’s no way.

Had dinner last night with a friend who lost her husband years back. “His promises are true”, she’d say with tears in her eyes, and with her soft, clear voice. Love and an unbreakable assurance in sadness I’ve never known. Piercing through the restaurant, and through my heart.

Faith and peace we bring when we share it.

Christmas is a story of Peace and Hope. Let’s know and share it again. Someone needs to know. Listen.

Request for Silly.

Give me that chance to let these thoughts settle. July was oh so very challenging. I guess this is what it’s really about. Life in all its lack of hours in a day.

I won’t have to get ahead. This season is different. Coming out of surprise-surprise July, it’s faith and fear fighting for first place at this point. I should stop sleeping late though. It doesn’t help at all. So yes I’m throwing it out there. I haven’t written down anything in a long while.
Admit and submit.

Met up with old good friends. This was like a good break for me. Always a mystery how it always feels like there were no many-years in between. I remember my mind, and speech, and jokes of who I was then coming back in all its silliness. Nothing rude. Turns me off when silly makes others rude. Just ourselves. Safe. It’s funny how I get to press the pause button a second and look around. All of a sudden, I’m grateful to have had weird friends as a young lady. HighSchool. Each unique and non-judgmental. Some things we get to share, some things are just different. I like that it was okay.

I especially like that I get to go home and to me now after all that. Like I was 16 for a few hours, and bring that in my home now. But then again, my husband always makes me feel like I was a teenager all over again. He knows that about me, and my bursts of nonsense. I would say this is what keeps our love strong. We make it a point to not just remember, but bring out the playful side of us once in a while. To survive. To remember that happiness is like that, too. In that form even as we get older.

My thoughts for now sitting in Old Spaghetti House waiting for my boys to pick me up. I take a deep breath as this week starts to roll out. I’ll make it. August, let’s do this. With hope, and a little bit of silliness.

Find and Ask.

I like digging up old TV themes just to step out and go back. They were great company. Somehow, my heavy-draped home had a lighter shade when Michael J. Fox makes of his sister but finds love in family at the end of the show.

My youngest won’t let it go sometimes. “But why does He allow it to happen, mom?” You can hear that’s-not-good-enough-it’s-not-making-me-feel-better in his voice. It was homeschool moment where you’re just talking about landforms and next thing you know, you’re talking about Mt. Pinatubo and its destruction, and God steps in when my little one suddenly asks about people and why and how they lived and who’s going to help. Earthquakes, and storms. Why?
Faith can never be taught from a distance. It can’t just be a story, it has to be my own when I talk to my kids. “I just believe in my heart He has saved us many many times. I know it now from the start, I know it now that God gave me you. And I know He wants us to let others know, too”. That sort of satisfied him.

But my prayer is that he’ll go back to those words, even to moments where he’s asked these questions. I trust God will keep my boys wondering about His power, and His love that they may not just come close to but be absolutely certain of His love for them. That they too will find love in God at the end of the day.