Loving Like Christ

I asked my brother what he thought about how men and women love nowadays. Here was our conversation:

Pat: It is said that we, men, need to love women like Christ loved the church. You were never asked to love us, but we need to love you. Like Christ loved the church.
Me: To the extent that you'd die for us?
Pat: Dying is easy. We have to live for you. But if we love you to that extent, with that kind of devotion, then the command to you, to be obedient to your husbands, should be easy. Because if you trust them that they won't do anything to harm you, then you should have no problem obeying.
Me: You're extreme, brother.
Pat: Oh, don't think of me as perfect. We're all not perfect when it comes to this. But we try. You know, present yourselves as living sacrifices and all that. The only problem with living sacrifices is they tend to wriggle off the sacrificial table every now and then. But we try.

Needs to Address

I had been feeling a little low recently. And I asked my brother to sit down with me and help me determine the path I could take from here. And I was talking about what opportunities were available to me when he stopped me and said, "Not opportunities. Tell me the needs that you see that you'd like to and think you'd be able to address." I'd like to share with you what my answers were.

1. The Lack of an Intentional Role Model. Why is it that when we talk of books or comics or games that are Bible or Christianity based, people find most of them boring. I think if we are to teach the youth, one of the most effective ways of doing it is by giving them a role model they look up to who is what we want them to aspire to be.

2. The Increase in the Lack of Meaningful Interactions. The rise of social media is also giving rise to loneliness, studies say. I think we shouldn't forget that we still need to physically interact with people as most of our language actually comes from nonverbal experiential communication.

3. The Absence of Emotional Education. We teach skills and knowledge. We teach people what to do with their money. But why don't we teach people how to handle emotions. What must a guy do when a girl cries in front of him? How does one break up properly? What should I do when I'm heartbroken and I don't know what to do with myself? Relationships are part of everyday life and breakups have been hurting us for generations. Why aren't we taught how to be superheroes and princesses when that's what our literature wants us to aspire to be?

Those were my answers. What about you? What needs do you see that you'd like to address?

Women's Hearts

Tita Pinky, an elderly lady in our organization, asked if we could bring her to the hospital. Her husband just had a quadruple bypass. I thought it was a bit of a hassle. My sister volunteered me without my having much of a say in it. Grudgingly, I told my sister I'd go back and pick the elderly lady back at our house. When she came aboard, she was very grateful. She said she had come to our house that day hoping to find my mom and help her out with things to try to get her mind off of her husband. She was worried about him. But she really wanted to go to the hospital to check up on him. It's just that none of her children were available that day. She was telling me how miserable she felt, and how she was trying to fight it. I felt bad about being impatient with the elderly lady. What's a ride to the hospital? My people were very capable. They can survive a morning without me. So I told her I'd stay with her until we got to the hospital. I felt bad because I also realized how impatient I was with my own mother, and she didn't deserve this from her children. She deserved honor. And I don't want her to feel miserable and alone.

We got to the hospital after more than an hour. Traffic was bad and we got lost. So, I take her up to her husband's room. And when we entered, he wasn't happy to see her. Tita Pinky told me, "Oh, he's angry." I asked if she was going to be okay and if she had a way to get home. She said she would be fine. So off I went, but I felt even worse than that morning. I felt so sad for this elderly woman, who wanted so much to see her husband because she was worried about him. And him glaring at her for coming. He's not the only husband I've seen who has that cruel streak towards their wives. Most husbands that I meet are not violent or anything. But there still is that cruelty, in the way they unappreciate, put down, refuse to give attention, or criticize their wives.

If I get married, will my husband be cruel to me, too? Are all husbands like that?

Operation: Take Back

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life,and have it to the full. [John 10:10]

I have heard this verse time and time again. But I haven't felt the true impact of this until just recently. I recently met up with some of my friends who were turning 30 this year, and they were all so excited about ticking off things on their list before their birthday. When asked what I did during my thirtieth birthday, my answer was, "I was depressed. I had just broken up with my first boyfriend then." And when I was thirty-one? "... Nothing." I wasn't quite as depressed anymore, but I wasn't exactly in a celebrating mood. Actually, I don't even remember what I did on my thirty-first birthday. My thirty-second birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks. What was my plan? "... Nothing." I was going to say I wasn't in a celebrating mood again, but I caught myself. I wasn't like this before thirty.

When I was younger, my siblings always said that I figuratively jumped off the cliff without thinking. I kept starting new projects. They weren't successful half of the time, but that never stopped me. My father always told me to stand up again after a failure. Things excited me. I believed in dreams and true love. But where is that girl now? I find myself scoffing at true love half the time. Ask me about my dreams. I can't give you a heartfelt answer.

What had happened to me? Where was the excitement? Where was the wonder and awe? I felt like they had been stolen from me. I felt that my dreams had been killed. And the worst part of it? I allowed that to happen.

NO! I refuse to leave myself on this path. I may no longer be thirty. But I'm going to take back my life. I had allowed the Thief to steal my joy. But it is time to reclaim what was lost. 

I talked to another friend over breakfast today. She's also turning thirty-two. I asked her what she did on her thirtieth birthday. Same. She was depressed. In her case, her decade-long then-boyfriend had gotten himself married behind her back. And when she was thirty-one? Still depressed. 

I told her what I wanted to do this year, how I wanted to take back my life. She said she wanted to do the same. So I asked her to join me in this endeavor. It was an exciting conversation over pancakes on what aspects we wanted to fix and how long we were planning to execute this. We talked about how the self was a lousy person to do this for. We talked about what we needed to learn. My plan focused on regaining wonder. Hers was more on loving herself again.

So, we'll be meeting in a week or two, maybe over Saturday breakfast again. It's certainly easier (and more fun) to execute a plan with accountability partners (and friends). If you'd like to join us, send me a message.

Now, on to the first item of the Plan to Take Back My Life: Bringing back my smile.

The Ifrit

One of my greatest enemy is a fire demon, the red knight of the Fallen One. He is know by many names: Orge, Thumos, Lyssa. But I know him as Rage. He bears a twisted sneering face. He consumes and burns everything around him like an unstoppable holocaust. And for the most part of my existence, he has been taking residence in my heart. Recently, he has been winning. But it is time to climb out of the pit, pick up my Sword once more and battle this demon.

Climbing out of the Pit

For the past six months, I had been miserable because of a falling out with one of my closest friends. But just recently, my brother came to me and told me in all seriousness, "You should smile more. You're default face isn't a smiling one anymore." And that evening, I attended a Leadership seminar in church. During worship, we sang "Lord of All."

I want to live for You
Be glorified forever
My life will declare
That You alone are Lord

Everything of me
Use it for Your glory
That everyone will see, will hear, will know
That You are Lord of All.

And that song struck me. I thought I had pledged my allegiance to my King. Then why am I being controlled by my circumstances and my rage? When people look at me, they wouldn't think I serve the King. I haven't been doing my part as a Warrior who had pledged her life to her Liege. I hadn't been fighting my demons.

The Raven

We are the ravens: the mysterious, the adored, the companion of poets. We are the revered, the feared, the bringer of omens. We sit there, high on our perch. Quietly contemplating our beauty. Comparing the creatures that pass beneath us. Watching. Judging. Proud.

Yet beneath that glamour, we are nothing more than scavengers. We are opportunists. Not willing or capable to acquire our daily bread on our own. We wait. We watch. Then we eat the scraps. We feed on the garbage this world offers us, not realizing that what we eat is waste. Then again, maybe we do realize that. But we eat it anyway.

Sad, don't you think? That all our beauty, all our greatness, are nothing but a glamour. And after the spell has been stripped away, we are exposed as the filthy creatures that we are. This realization has caused me to pause. I cannot fight my own nature. What was it that I had to do with this thought? I learned. I became wiser. But to what end? This revelation has caused me to despair. And I wandered. And I sought. And I cried out into the night. But the cold merely swallowed my voice. The darkness just swallowed me whole.

Then I saw the King.