The very FIRST SENTENCE in the Bible starts with these four words: "In the beginning God..." This speaks a lot about the origins of the universe as we "know" it, but what I personally see in it is that the Bible is, first and foremost, about God. It is His Story. Sadly, when people read it, they do so with the "What's in it for me?" attitude. Understandably, ever since Adam and Eve ate of the fruit, we've basically been a consumerist race. On the other hand, looking at the LAST TWO SENTENCES of the Bible, we see this: "The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God's people. Amen." Personally, God is telling me that the entire Bible may be God's Story but it is addressed to God's people FOR THEIR BENEFIT, and we get the entire benefit of what this BOOK gives through ACCEPTANCE of the grace of the Lord Jesus. We learn about that grace and about the Lordship of Jesus and about becoming God's people (for wasn't it just the Israelites of old who were supposed to be God's people?) BY READING what comes in between "In the beginning..." and "Amen." So, all said, there is something in it for us after all. And by the way, the word "Amen" can mean "I agree." or "So be it." One can only agree and say "Amen" if he has read through or heard what he is agreeing to.
That said, what's in it for us? Well, read read the Bible, find out then say, "Amen!" I remember while on combat patrol in the hinterland barangays of Misamis Occidental years ago, I came upon a villager who complained that my platoon was the only hint of government he had seen since the last elections ('80s). He said that their governor back then only visited to campaign for the villagers' votes then was never seen thereabouts since. By the looks of the roads (there weren't any...just trails), the school building (it was shut down) and the water systems (rain collection method), the politician's promises remained as mere promises.
Whoever wins the elections next week, I pray those elected never think too highly of themselves so much so that they forget to return to the remote towns (at the least) they campaigned at (whether they won there or not) to check on the promises they made. To the simple villager, this counts a lot.
If they do forget, woe to us for another six years...the circus may well just keep on going.
Any public speaker worth his salt will tell you that starting a talk or lecture with an apology is a big "no-no" in the world of communication. For that matter, starting a relationship of whatever level -- casual, business, or romantic -- will not go well if you start by saying "sorry" for an offense done.
The "First Rule" teaches that audiences will remember the first thing one does when called to a task. This is to say that even before one starts delivering his speech, people are already observing him.
 For this reason, it would be interesting to note who among the candidates today will have much to apologize for once they are elected to office. With all the mud-slinging, character assassination and black propaganda going around nowadays, surely he (or she) who is elected will have much to apologize for. Winning (or losing) at the expense of your opponents' character and reputation is not something noble or something to found your administration on.
This brings me to what Jesus says regarding our words. Matthew 12:33,34 says "Make a tree good and its fruit will be good, or make a tree bad and its fruit will be bad, for a tree is recognized by its fruit...out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks."
If the candidates today have much words of contempt overflowing against their opponents (all of whom are rich and powerful) even as they are just trying to win our confidence and vote, we need to ask what other evil schemes deep in their hearts will be revealed to us once they sit in office? Shall the next six years see us sitting around once more regretting our choices?
I strongly doubt any candidate who has hurled a word against his opponents will be man (or woman) enough to stand up and apologize to the public once elected. It takes character to do that.
For this reason, perhaps it is time we select no longer on the basis of who gives the most bowler IDs or who has more popular artistas supporting them (what an insult that they would think the Filipino is so ignorant to fall for that!!!), or who has the best scripted speech. Perhaps it is time we select someone who has more grace and less contempt, less greed in his heart.
Its time we select based on the FIRST RULE...which one, as early as now, will have nothing to apologize for? He (or she) may not have the purest character but at least we know, his (or her) heart overflows with content, not contempt. Listening to the eulogies for Alexis last night steered me to thoughts of what legacies she leaves behind for us to remember her by. On the back of a Victory Small Group schedule connect card I wrote down four:
1. Smiles - I will remember her for her smiles. She always had one on whenever she'd come over to say hello or update me about her life. Even when she was in pain or was very weak in her wheel chair, she would put on that protective mask with a big grin..teeth sparkling design over it (remember?) , as if saying, "It's me! Cheer up! Life is good! God is good!"
2. Her voice  - Alexis had a gift she shared with many. She knew it was from God for everyone to enjoy and each chance she had, she never shied away from singing -- not for her own satisfaction or fulfillment but always for people to recognize God's glory. She sang in her ENLI class, moving her classmates to tears and she sang at their graduation, that everyone might feel God's presence that evening. During one of our visits to Makati Med, I was blessed when Alexis, explaining the pictures she had stuck to the wall determinedly said, "I am still negotiating with God that I will sing again!" Indeed, she is...her greatest performance before her Most Special Audience!
3. Relationships - Alexis was a person of relationships. She was one who did not allow her illness to prevent her from engaging and connecting with people. Sometimes to a fault, she'd over extend herself to meet, to communicate, to reach out to people. She was the epitome of the Nokia Cellphone!!! She was one who had sweet names of endearment for those she had relationships with. Fact is, she was the one who coined the term "Pastor Daddy Dennis" when she was a student at ENLI. A tag I felt awkward about but which eventually stuck and spread among the other young men and women in church. She had tags for all those she related with...good tags...special relationships. More importantly, Alexis knew the most special relationship she had of all, the one with Jesus Christ. And I believe it was this relationship that pushed her onward to making sure everyone she knew, she was related to, had that same relationship. A few days before she passed away, she sent me a text message (and I am sure everyone else got the same message) saying that her lola had recently passed away, but praise God, she had found the same relationship with Jesus before leaving! Alexis wanted her ralations to be related to Jesus!
4. Faith - everyone knows how much faith Alexis had. That faith was so strong doctors were baffled, conceding that indeed, her God was healing her. Sadly, there were some attending physicians who marked her as a "masamang damo" thus her surviving. They MISSED the point.
I believe God has a plan and a purpose, a reason for why lives cross paths with other lives. There are no accidents; no coincidences. Alexis did not just happen to be a friend, a relative, a churchmate, a patient, or a niece or granddaughter of an associate. I believe God allowed her to live just as long as she did because God wanted to use her - her smile, her voice, her relationships, but most especially her faith, TO TOUCH US and to tell us just how much He loves us and just how much HE WANTS to restore a personal relationship with us, if we only turn, accept His son, Jesus, in our hearts, as Alexis did, and walk in His ways by faith.
And just like King David, who when God's purpose for him had been served, "fell asleep" and was buried (Acts 13:36), so has Alexis gone, for God's purpose for her life had been served.
Today and whenever we remember Alexis and think of why we became part of her life and why she became part of ours; when we remember her legacy, I pray we remember her purpose as well. It would be sad if we, just as the physicians who crossed paths with her, would also miss the point.Thank you, Lord, for Alexis! TEN things YOU SHOULD NOT expect your candidate to do when he wins:
1. Noynoy will not wake you up in the morning for you to find a job or to report to work on time.
2. Bro Eddie will not open your Bible for you to hear God's message.
3. Jamby will not put money in your bank account for you.
4. Gibo will not teach your children about respecting and honoring their parents for you.
5. Dick will not feed you the right food for you to have good health.
6. Erap will not look for the right friends for you...or your children.
7. Manny will not lecture your kids on teenage pregnancy for you.
8. JC will not manage your debts for you.
9. Nicanor will not segregate your garbage for you.
10. and The VP who succeeds the president when he dies or is impeached will not tell your driver to stay in lane in traffic for you.
Many things that make our lives miserable can't be solved by the best president ever, so don't expect them to...and don't blame them when they don't.It is not a matter of finding the person that can unite the Filipino people. We found Manny Pacquiao and his patriotism didn't help any...he's only human.
Be the president of your life and maybe things will be different.
Make God be the president of your life and things will SURELY be different.
"Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed." (Proverbs 16:2) When I was asked to preach on submitting to God, I was hesitant as I always am when it comes to anything that requires me to go up a stage and talk to more than a thousand people about their faith. But as any good soldier would do, I said "Yes Sir!" (more like "Yes Doc!"), did my homework and prepared for D-Day.
Having my usual dose of sleepless and restless nights in anticipation of D-Day (just like the night before jumping out of an aircraft), I was struck by a phrase a dear friend said as I was coaching her on how to do a tithes and offering exhortation. She said, "Pastor Dennis, what is the burning bush saying?"
Her interpretation was simple: When the Voice in the burning bush directs you to do something, you can consider it as a call to something greater. Indeed, when Moses got the command to free God's people from slavery in Egypt, what the Voice was saying was, "You're going to do greater things, just you wait and see."
Moses parted the Red Sea, turned bitter water sweet and authored the first few books of the Bible (which, by the way, included the Ten Commandments). Days following D-Day, I saw evil spirits cast out, a seriously injured man get healed and a weary teacher perform beyond what he prepared for.
Indeed, when the Voice in the burning bush calls you to something, you can expect more than a hot encounter with God. There'll be awesome things in store for you!
So, what's the burning bush saying?
I was pushing the task back as long as I could. I knew I needed to sit Josh down and give him the talk about the birds and the bees. Meg's warning on how early kids nowadays get to find out about sex raised the alarm in my mind even more. There was no procrastinating any longer.
Meg and Erika were out on a date. Best time for an all-boy talk. This time around, it was I who had to ask, "Can we talk?"
With some hesitation deep within, I decided to skirt the idea of the birds and the bees and start where it all began: the Bible. Taking off from Genesis 2:18-25, we discussed the differences between man and woman; about God's plan that there be only one man for one woman and not man for another man or woman for another woman or not the plurality of the original set up; about God's plan for them in marriage and how each of their bodies are miracles, each having either an egg cell or sperm cells. I then talked about how God planned it that only one sperm cell from man would meet the waiting egg cell from woman and from there a new baby would be formed in the womb of the woman.
Grasping all of it in quite well, Josh then asked, "But Daddy, how does the sperm cell from the man get into the woman to meet the egg cell?"
It was then that I gulped a mouthful, heaved a deep breath and took the full plunge.
With much inexplicable embarrassment, I matter-of-factly told him about the act of sex.
Seeing not even a hint of embarrassment or malice in his eyes or face, I went on and told him about how God made sex to be something beautiful between husband and wife; how intimacy between him and the woman God has created for him to marry in the future is something to prepare for and to look forward to and be pure and holy for.
I warned him about how the devil has taken sex and made it into something bad and disgusting. We talked about lust and looking at a woman with lust. We talked about the possibility of having the wrong friends in the future who would pressure him to have sex before marrying. We talked about billboards and magazines and tv commercials and sexy cartoon shows. We talked about crushes and about adultery. We talked a lot.
As I was wrapping up, I felt proud of myself and the feat I had accomplished. I felt relieved. I was awed at how Joshua was so innocent and at how he took in everything so well.
As I ended it with a prayer, Josh shot one last question that made me smile. He asked, "Daddy, when man and woman have sex, do they have their clothes on?"
Now that's one for the Reader's Digest archives!
My family, together with my dad, mom and sister, Mian, took a road trip to Subic one rainy Saturday morning. It was cloudy when we left, and pouring just as we cruised into the freeport zone. At the back of the van, I could here Josh and Erika saying a quick prayer for the rain to stop. Faith of a child!
First stop was the Tree Top adventure. The rain had fizzled into a drizzle. The wind blew while we were being oriented on the adventure packages we could avail of. By the time we were ready for the 45 minute Tree Top walk and ride, the rain had totally stopped and the seats had dried up care of the strong wind. The clouds held long enough for us to do the Superman ride which took another 20 minutes.
It was not till we were back in the van, ready to drive towards Meat Plus, our favorite (and cheap) lunch stop that it started to drizzle again. By the time we were munching down our steaks, there was another downpour outside.
Driving back to the mountains, this time for the Zoobic adventure, again I could hear the kids pray for the rain to stop. By the time we were being oriented on the various sites to see at the zoo, the rain fizzled to a drizzle. As we boarded the van for the Tiger safari and crocodile pits, the rain had totally stopped.
The last stop was the go-cart circuit, but this, not after a leisurely drive towards the Ocean Park and the monkey-infested roadways of Cubi Point. Again, the heavens opened up and let loose gazzilion gallons of rain.
Another prayer. After all, the go-carts were the kids' highlight of the trip. The rain fizzled to a drizzle and eventually stopped when it was the kids' turn behind the wheels of those little go-carts.
Riding back home, tired and beat, my family fell asleep to the tunes of Mama Mia the movie. Alone in my thoughts, steering through the darkness of SCTEX, I could not help but marvel over God's love for His children...my children to be more accurate. He stopped the rain because they had faith enough to ask Him to.
Glory to God!
 Meg and I figured in an accident, hitting a motorcycle, and being hit by a Toyota Fortuner. The rider was rushed to the Ospital ng Makati (OsMak) while we went to the police station for the investigation.
Later, together with two police officers, Meg and I visited the rider at OsMak for his statement. Meg and I then prayed for him, for healing from his injuries and for God's purposes to be revealed to us through this incident. We also prayed for his wife who is pregnant.
 After the prayer, the doctor came in announcing the injury: a broken femur (thigh bone). There was a need to bring him to the Orthopedic hospital.
Back at the police station at ten that night, the wife came in for the settlement agreement. She announced that a new x-ray showed that there was also a broken pelvic bone and a need for surgery to insert metal plates.
Before heading home that night, I brought the wife and her sister-in-law back to OsMak but before leaving, I told her that what might be an accident to us is all part of God's greater plan. I told her that even as we had prayed for healing earlier, we need to have faith as small as a mustard seed in order to move the mountains of injury in the rider's body. I ended with a sincere apology and an invitation for them to visit us at Victory.
The following day, as I was busy managing the English Victory Weekend at the Fort, I received a text message from my wife. According to the insurance adjuster, the rider's wife said that after follow up x-rays, the injuries earlier discovered were no longer there. He was totally healed!
As of 2pm that day, he was back home aching from the bruises, but healed from the fractures!
When we pray with faith, God does not only move our mountains but also makes mountains of our mustard seed faith.
Glory to God!
It is the fifth day after the end of the campaign; the eighth after this blog was due. I am making up for lost time as I caught the flu bug and, as things would have it, ended up with gallbladder stones. But if there is one thing I hate doing it's quitting. Having gone 24 straight days of blogging till the wee hours of the morning if only to stick to a commitment the pastors made at the start of this campaign, I feel it wrong to stop now. So here I am, blogging way behind the others who finished strong.
 I am reminded of that one day back in Plebe year Beast Barracks. After the grueling months of summer camp where food was scarce and the warmth and comforts of home were but a dream from the past, the lure of frivolities brought about by the company of family and friends come Incorporation Day – the day we finally get to meet our parents again and spend time with them in the city – was  enough to make any plebe want to quit and go home. The thought occurred to me. It occurs to everyone who has donned the gray. But somehow, for one reason or another, we returned to barracks. For some reason or another, we all knew our destinies run steady and strong within the hallowed grounds of PMA. Regardless of the hardship, we knew there’d be glory in finishing what we started.
When a band of friends lingered somewhere across t he Jordan River at the time the news of the death of Lazarus came, many of them did not want to return because of the death threats their Teacher had received from the Jews. One – Thomas – even feigned submission sarcastically. But notwithstanding the danger and the hardships He knew were coming His way, Jesus headed back towards Bethany (and later Jerusalem to be crucified) with one thing in His mind: to see God glorified in what was to transpire. In so doing, He was glorified. And continues to be.
Quitting seems the easiest thing to do at the thought of difficulty, of pain, or of rejection. For many, however, focusing on their destiny for which they persevere and labor to the end is all it takes to reach their purpose for being. Such is the case of those who know their calling, who commit to it and see it to the finish.
For still some others, however, the glory is neither the goal nor the purpose of the pursuit. On the contrary, to be used by God for His glory is the ultimate reason for not quitting. Theirs is the satisfaction of being told, “Well done. Well done.”
...five blogs to go...
 Spending not a few summers in Nueva Viscaya when we were young, my brother , Chad, and I had a lot of provincial  experiences which today I consider as very good learning points for life and ministry. One very vivid lesson came when, while eating dinner, my mom's older brother and my uncle, Honest (same name as my dad), picked up a knife and "invaded" my plate space which, after I had finished eating my meal, was still filled with several grains of rice. A businessman turned farmer, he stroked a few times around my plate, singling out groups of rice, three grains in a group. After the exercise, he replaces the knife on the table and in his distinct melodramatic fashion remorsefully mumbles, “These three are one rice stalk. It takes three grains to grow one rice stalk.”
It was a guilt trip of a lesson. One that stuck in my memory till now, some 40 years later.
When Philip in some miraculous manner started to run along side the chariot of the traveling Ethiopian  eunuch, it was likely that he wasn’t surprised to learn that the traveler wanted to be baptized. Having been one of two persons present when Jesus taught about the need for the kernel to die first before it could become much seed, Philip must have had an insight or two on sowing, watering and reaping seeds. I suspect he had an inkling that this eunuch didn’t just read scripture for leisure. He must have surmised that someone must have introduced him to it – planted the seed some time, somewhere in the past. All he needed was a little explaining of what the verses meant in order to be convinced of its truth.
Many of us are intimidated each time we cross paths with people we know God has sent us to plant seeds into their lives. Not realizing that these people may already know about Jesus from religious lessons in the past, we tend to waste the seeds on our plate, leaving them to be rinsed away, never to be used for their intended purpose: to become much seed. As such, we fail to realize the very purpose God predestined our paths to cross. We lose that glorious opportunity to become part in God’s plan to save that one soul.
We perhaps ought to take stock of Philip and his insight on seeds. We ought to take the grain on our plates and relentlessly sow them in the lives of each person we become in contact with, always bearing in mind that though the seed planted today may first fall on hard soil and die, it may not be long till some one else waters it, convincing it of the truth, and making it live.
In llight of eternity, the day we sow will naturally count.
 In an earlier blog where I talked about a CAFGU detachment being attacked by rebels, I mentioned that we had arrived at the area just in time to see the enemy making their escape. What I skipped in the story was that portion where I got hold of the M203 grenade launcher of one of my men (I only carried and M16 rifle), aimed and launched one round at a nipa hut I had seen one of the rebels enter. Embarrassingly, I missed the target by a mile! As in, I didn’t even see where the projectile hit as I didn’t see nor hear an explosion. This disheartened me. As a commander, I am supposed to be the master of every weapon available to the platoon. It turns out I was deficient in the handling of the M203. In the midst of the fading gunfire, I felt very much incapable of leading my men. I was the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time!
When Jesus bent over to scribble something on the sand, I can just imagine what the adulteress was thinking! “Teacher! What are you doing?! I am about to get stoned to death here and you can’t even lift a finger to save me?! What a Gentleman, you are!” Sure enough, Jesus didn’t lift a finger. He continued drawing on the sand, in between strokes urging the least of the sinners to cast the first stone. And as one by one the accusers left, I once more can imagine the woman’s thoughts, “Whoa, Jesus! You’re the right man at the right time!” Thank you. And surely, that moment was stuck in her heart forever.
Leaving a legacy to the people we love and care for is quite easy. Under normal circumstances, it is easy to chalk up and credit the many moments that we’ve spent with our spouses and kids as we know memories have been created with them to last their lifetime. What is quite difficult, on the other hand, is to see what legacy we might be able to leave, if at all, the ordinary people we cross paths with seemingly by random strokes of “luck” or “coincidence” in the everyday moments of our lives.
I would argue that it wasn’t an accident that Jesus was at the Temple courts just as the woman was brought in for Jesus’ judgment. Fact is, the Pharisees wanted to entrap Jesus so they could arrest and finally get rid of Him. But Jesus used that moment of tension to make a point, to leave a legacy in the life of an ordinary sinner who was humanly likely to be unknown to Him. In this life where all things happen according to a Great Plan to serve an equally Great Purpose, being where you are at the moment you are there makes you the right man for the right time at the right place to do God’s purpose for you at that moment.
Having said that, there are then no accidents when we cross paths with others -- common people as they are. Not anyone we love nor care for. In such moments, any act, regardless of how inconsequential we lift our finger in assistance, is an act that leaves a legacy stuck in their hearts forever…whether we know it or not. To this people, that moment you lived counted for eternity.
Postscript: That nipa hut that I missed? Well, when the rattle of gunfire ceased and a clearing of the area was made, we found a very old lola alone inside the hut, frightened sick with all that was going on. Had a sharpshooter launched that rifle grenade, she would have been killed by a direct hit. It turns out, in my moment of combat ineffectiveness, I was the right man at the right moment in the right place. (God’s Plan!) And that life spared is a legacy I hold dear to this day.
Praise God!
 We had just arrived from the short flight up from Florida where we visited DisneyWorld. As we stepped into the curb of the Ronald Reagan airport in Washington DC, the alert was spread around that a digital camera that was packed in the check-in baggage of a member of the party had gone missing. A quick investigation revealed that the baggage had not been locked and the camera was now nowhere to be found. With nothing else that can be done, everyone was requested to pray that the camera be found. I silently obliged.
Upon getting to our destination, the latest alert came. The camera had been found. How? I do not know. But just as I silently obliged to pray, I was also silently thanking God for answering. On the other hand, from the person who brought the announcement, I heard the next line: "You see, Dennis, I prayed to Saint Anthony and he answered my prayer!"
I am not sure who will believe this was indeed a miracle. Fact is, I am inclined to believe that I myself could be careless enough to put valuable stuff in my check-in luggage, think it was lost, and only be too glad to see that the shifting of items in my luggage during the journey may have caused the valuable to be covered under some other stuff in there when next checked.
Miracle or not, my point is that too often, when we pray to whoever we pray to, we give thanks to the same person we pray to. Of course, that's if we ever give thanks at all. Bringing the argument even further, when we don't even pray for what we want or need in our lives and yet, find these things apparently falling upon us indiscriminately from heaven, we tend to accept them nonchalantly, declaring that we are so lucky! For many, we credit ourselves for being hard working enough, being diligent enough to deserve such luck. And why not? We've worked hard for it!
When fortunes changed from great to grim and then back to spectacular for the Family Jacob (what with having their very own brother Joseph as second only to Pharaoh!) the brothers who had planned evil against Joseph were afraid of retribution. But regardless of all the bad things that had happened to him and the good that he had now experienced in the land of Ra, the Egyptian sun god, Joseph did not consider it an accident, a coincidence, luck or a favor from Ra that he had risen from being a slave in jail to being second in command. He credited it to God. He may have easily believed he deserved all the accolade since he was the one who interpreted Pharaoh’s dream correctly but even that, he acknowledged as God’s doing. In fact, years later when Jacob had died and the brothers once again were afraid of retribution from Joseph, he once more assured them, saying "Don't be afraid. Am I in place of God? You intended to harm me but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."
Being Christians (believers of Christ) in a land touted as the only Christian nation in Asia, we ought to be careful as to whom we ascribe our daily “highs” and “lows”. We need to ask ourselves: Is there really such a thing as luck? Is anything really an accident or a coincidence? Or is everything happening according to a Great Plan for a Great Purpose? When our prayers are answered, was it anyone else but God who answered? Does anyone else answer prayers in the first place?
Learning to answer these questions correctly will help us see that those “highs” and “lows” in our lives are, in fact, everyday miracles in a grander scheme of things, which we’ve become too dull to recognize. It will help us acknowledge the only person deserving of all thanksgiving, praise and honor.
As Jesus aptly put it, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's."
Earthquake!!!
Intensity 4...
Tremors felt! Relationships in trouble...
Earthquakes have a way of weakening the integrity of buildings which have taken years to build. They put cracks in one's character, exposing weaknesses and bringing doubt in one's self.
There's some ruble to sift through...
Later...
Still catching up. Still that kind of a blog.
One thing about having things pile up on you is it creates the need to sift through all of it, to find some space, some crack or opening to allow you to breathe. Fortunately, when a vent is found, the pressure is released and the build up of stress is stayed for the moment. And that is good.
The past week, like I said last blog, was stupendously toxic. Given such circumstances, one would think hitting a Friday is a chance to breathe, to dress down in my faded jeans and rundown boat shoes. Just relax.
But not this Friday. We’re smack in the middle of our first Victory Weekend for the year and with all the new things going on, there are just so many things to attend to and do tweaking on. Quick decisions have to be made and often this opens up opportunity for bad results. Much as running around the four floors of ENLI like a headless chicken is not a good thing, it was inevitable!
And so the pressure built up and continues to build up. I sense that if I am not careful and am not able to find a crack somewhere soon, I’ll end up having not just a volcano eruption but a deadly earthquake of tectonic origins!
When an Egyptian prince of Hebrew origins turned desert tourist guide for millions of former slaves, he was at the receiving end of the complaints as their contingent – not used to the Bedouin lifestyle – went through the dessert for several years now. Receiving guidance from the God who sent him, he positions himself before a rock that, once spoken to, would supposedly spew out gushing water. Likely fed up with the grumblings of the people he addressed as rebels, Moses, in the pressure of the day, struck the rock as opposed to just speaking to it (possibly because he struck a rock earlier and water gushed from it). Notwithstanding this, the water gushed out from the rock and appeased the restless rebels. For Moses, however, the consequence was grim. He lost his chance to enter the Promised Land. His earthquake was costly.
Earthquakes are often deadly. Emotional earthquakes destroy lives and put cracks on relationships. They leave people unable to live a life that could count for something significant in light of eternity. They say physical earthquakes are hard to predict. The opposite is true with the emotional variety. Keeping track of the warning signs can well save the earth from shaking.
I think I’ll do just that…
Catching up for whatever reason, most often than not results in having to take short cuts. And taking short cuts -- in most anything -- will often result in mediocrity. If time were not an issue in catching up, there wouldn't be a need to catch up.
This blog is a "catch up" blog. You know what to expect.
The past two weeks have been hectic. Last week, I spent Monday in the hospital, Tuesday attending to two flat tires, Wednesday attending to a still sick son, Friday back at the hospital, and at a school Family Field Day. Monday this week was at my parents home; later a dinner with leaving friends; Wednesday was at house warming. In between that were attempts at doing honest work: Staff meetings, life coaching, mentoring, One Life to Live campaign; Victory Weekend preps, overseeing ENLI classes. And in between those in betweens were the blogs...
Not too hectic to many perhaps but I feel the crunch. The facade can't hide the cracks.
And at the "almost end" of the period, I am left with vague memories of what happened when and with whom. That's the effect of catching up: I lose the details of events, news, relationships.
There was a rich man who had religiously followed the law his entire life. He wanted to find out how to get eternal life and Jesus told him to sell all he owned so that he'd have treasures in heaven, and then, he was to follow Jesus. The rich man didn't quite like what he heard. I suspect it was hard enough to sell all his stuff, but to follow Jesus? Man, that's time consuming and a lot of hard work! It's like carrying a cross! Or so he thought.
There are no shortcuts to eternity. Getting rid of worldly behavior, attitudes and desires is just one part of it. But it is a necessary part. The second thing is transformation is not an overnight thing. We're not machines. It can take a life time to be transformed. But following Jesus -- His example -- is the only way to true transformation that'll count for eternity.
We have only one life to live, to prepare for eternity. Let's not short cut it by simply catching up. Let's be transformed by following The Way. Instead of catching up with life, let's catch up with Jesus. That's when this life counts.
Catch you later...Victory Weekend to catch up to...
  I have always taken an interest in PMA cadets who have this undying desire to punish themselves with loads of weight on their back or arms no matter how tired they are, when jogging to the checkpoint (Main Gate), when on foot marches or during field training exercises. I specifically notice that plebes, even as they are ready to bog down under the weight of 30 kgs in their backpacks and another 5.2 Kgs of their M14 rifles, do not give in to the advise of upperclassmen to pass on to them this weight. For upperclassmen, it is even worse. Regardless of how tired they are,  to even consider passing on the weight to an underclassman is a killable offense. To show fatigue is a ticket to eternal humiliation.
The reason is obvious: pride. No one wants to be called a sissy. Cadets don’t want to be known as quitters. The norm is you do or die. Cadet society demands that you toe the line – either you’re tough enough or you can’t be part of the Long Gray Line. The acronym PMA captures it so well – Positive Mental Attitude. The can-do spirit… a silent prerequisite that separates the men from the boys.
And this serves them well. At many a hard times, notwithstanding grave odds, giving up is never an option. The rationale is, “If I survived plebehood, I can survive anything.” And this explains away many a hardships conquered; many a critics silenced, no matter the reasoning, even the wise. In a way, it is an accepted burden; an unseen yet necessary load to carry.
Notwithstanding its awesomeness, I wonder..."What other feats could have been accomplished without the burden?"
When the Samaritan woman had a chance of a lifetime to serve water to a tired and thirsty Jewish Stranger by the well, she tried to rationalize her way out of it by explaining the rules of society which prohibited their interaction. Given another chance to interact further with this Man who promised her living water, she once more evades the situation by pointing out the absence of the physical means to draw the water from the well. After once more trying to find her way out of a fix by explaining the laws governing places of worship, she is told that the very person to be worshiped stood before her. What an honor it was for her! Yet, because her mind had been dulled by the load of centuries of religious tradition, ritual and cultural norm, she misses the chance of a life time and replies, “I know that Messiah is coming. When He comes, he will explain everything to us.” Arghhh!
 Whether it’s pride or stubbornness or simple dullness of mind, man has a hard time letting go of the real or perceived burden he carries. Driven by internal pressures or external expectations, he knowingly or unconsciously waylays his main purpose for being, missing the moment and jeopardizing his destiny.
It is as simple as this: Jesus calls those who are weary, burdened, those experiencing storms and hurricanes to come to Him. From where they are in life, they need but decide to make a simple move towards Jesus. And the promise is rest for their souls -- present and eternal!
It's as simple a feat as that…too simple, many miss it.
  The night stars were all out, illuminating the Nueva Ecija sky. They chose a perfect evening to set us out on our night navigation exercise. From our jump off point, we had the whole night to find and hit various stations in the plains of Fort Magsaysay before finding our way back to barracks.
 Equipped with a lensatic compass, a map and a canteen of water, we moved around the playing area in darkness, wary that with every step, we could fall into some ditch or another if we read our azimuths and took our bearings erroneously. Basic land navigation is not easy in itself. Doing it at night raises the degree of difficulty notches higher.
 Having gone through such an experience, it was a relief to learn a few years following that fateful night that the Army had finally equipped its units with Global Positioning Systems (GPS). With this new tool, it became easier for our troops to find their way in the dark and to pinpoint specific locations on the map to the nearest meter with the help of satellites hovering a few miles above the earth. Such ease has increased troop efficiency and effectiveness in the combat areas across the country. And all this is good.
That said, the wide acceptance and use of the GPS has never diminished the need for soldiers to learn the basics of land navigation. On the contrary, before any cadet or officer learns how to push the buttons of a standard issue GPS, he  has to first go through and perfect the same land navigation exercises my classmates and I went through years ago. As such, when the dumb machine conks out or its batteries run dry, there is never a fear of not being able to find the objective or to return to base simply because we had the basic skills of reading a map and compass.
 The same principle is true for anyone who wants to live a meaningful and significant life on earth. When we first learn the truth about Jesus Christ and the salvation His death on the cross has brought, we are like babes who have just learned the most basic steps of righteous living. Even before we start meditating on our Bible, getting into small groups or attending Sunday service, we learn to place our trust and confidence in God and God alone, desiring to strengthen our new relationship with Him. Our passion is to know Him better by spending more time with Him.
However, as time passes, we start spreading our wings, learning the other disciplines of Christian living and getting involved in pursuits characteristic of maturing followers of Christ. With ease and much effectiveness, we learn how to engage, establish, equip and empower new Christians. We discover our gifts of service, counsel, coaching, prophecying, teaching and pastoring. We even learn how to blog 17 straight days without a hitch on lessons and insights from the One Life to Live campaign. And all this is good.
 That said, our wide practice of sincere Christian love and compassion for others should never diminish our first love and passion for God Himself. In fact, even before we commit our energies to the works of the ministry to which we are called, we ought to go back to basics: seeking our relationship with God first and foremost, drawing strength and wisdom from Him each and every day. As such, when the trials and struggles of life drain our batteries and bog us down, there is never a fear in our hearts simply because we know the basic. We can always draw near to Him, depending on Him for a refill of His power and strength.
After all, that’s what GPS is…God’s Power and Strength!
.  It was supposed to be a usual day. Get up early, cold mountain shower, quick breakfast then hit the firing range. But this day was different. Not long after sunrise, explosions were heard in the distance. We tried to pinpoint the direction through radio triangulation of enemy transmissions. Pretty soon, the dreaded news came. One of our isolated CAFGU detachments was being attacked by the rebels. Being the most junior lieutenant in the battalion headquarters, I was the natural choice to lead the reinforcing platoon to help the beleaguered detachment.
After a few kilometers on the M35 trucks, we dismount and take the remaining ten kilometers (air distance) on foot, single file. As an SOP, you never take a vehicle to the actual site of encounter to pre-empt an ambush by rebel blocking forces.
Not a long hike down the road, we are met by a man who offers to lead us to the detachment through a quicker way. Alarms sound in my head. This was the classic ploy into a waiting ambush down the road! We instead take the path less traveled – we make our own. We descend a steep ravine, cross a river then ascend an equally steep slope. It was at this point, gasping for air, I think to myself, “What am I doing here? College graduate from a great family, with prospects as good as my Ateneo classmates but here I am, slogging it up this stubborn mountainside, mud to my knees and with a curious fear of being killed by the rusty bullet of some 13 year old, grade three drop-out who probably didn’t even know the real reason he joined the movement!
Rounds of 105 Howitzer cannons hit the target, giving the rebels something to think about while we slowly make our way to the detachment. As we get there, we are just in time to engage the now withdrawing rebels. They are surprised we got through to them, yet make a hasty escape, leaving behind a totally devastated camp rising in plums of smoke; bodies of dead CAFGUs lying where they defended gallantly to the end.
As the bodies were being loaded into a waiting chopper, I sit by the edge of a nipa hut, staring at the surreal picture unfolding before me. A feeling of defeat engulfs me as I begin to wonder why all this? What was the purpose? As with any sane soldier caught in the middle of this senseless conflict, I feel the uselessness of all the years of training, all the drills and SOPs…gone to waste for no tangible reason. In my frustration, it occurred to me that perhaps it was time to quit the job.
I suspect that when Jesus had been ascertained by the kiss, His body pulled and dragged to the high priest’s courtyard overlooking Gethsemane, these same thoughts and emotions gripped the hearts of His apostles, more so Peter who had claimed he would stick with Him to the end. I suspect he felt defeated, confused and afraid amidst the surreal picture unfolding before him. Before the rooster even crowed, he probably asked why all this? He was a fisherman and for three years was trained to fish for men, yet, now all the training had gone to waste for no tangible reason. Was it time to quit the job he was called to by Jesus?
To this day, those lives lost in that morning rebel raid some 19 years ago have never been justified. To this day, lives are lost in some unknown nook or crevice of the archipelago as the conflict moves on to its 40th year. Nothing has changed but the faces of those who continue to slug it out in the bush. Lives lost have now become mere inside page reports in the dailies; another notch on the growing statistical board.
The picture is not as dim on Peter’s end. Quite the opposite, in fact. Today, some 2000 years after the fact, more lives are being justified as the reason, then made clear to Peter, is now becoming clear to many who have come to know about Jesus’ purpose on the cross. Lives once lost have now become recognized names written on the inside pages of the growing Book of Life as countless Christians across the globe have continued slugging it out in all areas and walks of life, bringing the Good News of God’s salvation. Thank God Peter didn't quit!
I do not know why I had to go through that day of defeat. In light of eternity, I do not think that moment counted. What I do know is there is victory for individuals who find their identity in Jesus Christ. The day a person puts his trust in Him as his Lord and Savior is the day that will count in eternity, and that’s all the identity that matters.
  When my dad turned 75 last April, my mom, my siblings and I surprised him with a birthday party at the Club Filipino ballroom. Family and friends from all stages of his life were there to greet him as he walked into the room. It wasn’t long till sweat began to well up in his eyes and fall down his cheeks as he made his way through the familiar faces, speaking to him their personal felicitations.
 That’s what it was – an evening of personal testimonies and personal greetings in celebration of a man whose life had crossed and touched other lives. Everyone present probably had his own notion of what the high point of the evening was but I would venture to say that one moment that night was likely to be remembered by all simply because they were all a part of it – the presentation of a book entitled "75 Testimonies for 75 Years".
I had the honor of writing the Foreword of that book, a major portion of which I quote here:
“Over the years, I have come to believe that if a  person has a seed to plant, he ought to plant it; a bridge to cross, he ought to cross it, and a hand to shake, he ought to shake it for if he does not, the opportunity may not come again and the tree, the journey and the friendship may be lost forever. What will remain shall be regret that will last a lifetime.
It is quite simple really. A moment ticks but once.
This book of messages takes heed of this principle. If you have a word to speak, a memory to share, a blessing to give, do it, for as the Good Book says, ‘An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up.’
Thus have 75 individuals from different chapters and pages of Nes Isleta’s 75 years of blessed existence accepted the invitation to participate in this most unique and rare birth anniversary present. In these words are expressed fond memories, deep sentiments and sincere wishes for a man whose sense of humor has made them laugh, whose integrity has made them dream, and whose life has made them praise and thank God.
To those who answered the call and participated in this undertaking, know that through what you have done, you have blessed my family with a journal that we shall pass on to the generations of Isletas that shall follow. Thus, as your words shall live on, so shall the Isleta Legacy…”
When Jesus asked Peter three times if he loved Him, three times Peter said “Yes” and each time, Jesus instructed Peter to look after His people. Peter felt bad that Jesus “questioned” his love for Him thrice, yet, at the end of it all, Jesus says, “Follow me” indicating Peter’s restoration as an apostle notwithstanding the “crowing” incident. Peter lived on to do great things for Jesus.
Some words are never easy to express. It is never easy to say I am sorry or I love you. Many even find it difficult to say thank you! They're too personal. But these words are words of life which not only bring restoration and strength to relationships but also uplift the spirit of those who release and receive such blessings. These are words to be said when they're needed the most to be said...and that's now, or the moment will be lost forever, and so the legacy.
To this day, my dad goes back to the book. Each time he does, I know he is strengthened for yet another day.
Thank you Lord for all 75 well-wishers who chose to get personal! In doing so, they counted.
Postscript: For another account of that evening, click here.
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