In Between Sleeping and Waking

leeyounger:

Welcome to the new year. Guess what? Every single day, in every situation you face, you have an enemy who wants to mess with your mind, keep you discouraged, doubting, confused and upset. There are invisible forces arrayed against you who want to take you out and they will be facing you down…

leeyounger:

Fairest Of Ten Thousand #235

Luke 7:39

When you sink down to the lowest version of yourself, Jesus is down there, loving you. When you see yourself for the person you really are and the reality of that self-reflection is a horror and a nightmare, He’s there, still longing for you. When…

In Awe and Wonder, 12/31/12

Acrylic on Paper

My word for 2013 shall be WONDER.

Last year was all about swimming. I was not able to include in my previous entry that I think I swam mostly in order to survive. I did not take as much time to marvel at the world I was in. I was braver, maybe, but not yet as courageous as how the best version of myself could be. I still hid in caves and built walls. I allowed my mind to get trapped in fear and stay locked in prejudices.

The sea once swallowed me. Now I feel like driftwood that has been washed away, and it’s almost like I’ve been asleep half of my life. God has brought me to a new shoreline, and I will explore this island wide-eyed. It is time for my mind and my heart to be awakened by wonder in order to fully live. I will gaze at the sun, my arms outstretched as I reach for the sky… and breathe in a fresh air of possibilities. 

In the words of Nico Lang, “I want to wake up every day and be ready to stand silent with awe at what the world has in store— whether those are small miracles, the biggest thing I could ever imagine, or the romances beyond imagination. Because every time I doubt the future, every time I doubt myself, every time I doubt my ability to love and be loved I need to be proven wrong, to renew my faith in myself and in other people. Because I sincerely think that without fearlessly loving, even if it seems silly, pointless or hopeless, life isn’t worth living.”

When ships of strangers arrive, I will not build fences around me but welcome them instead. I will not isolate myself but involve myself more in the wonder of who they are. I will explore this island and share a fire with them. I will dig for treasure with them no matter how deep we must go, and not give up when they tell me to. When I find this treasure, I will not keep it to myself or boast of it but share it to the same strangers who dug with me, and to those who did not believe I could find it.

I am walking into this new year with uncertainty as all of us are, and I am honestly scared to make all these declared and undeclared commitments to myself. I woke up this morning staring at my unfinished entry, thinking if I should continue or forget everything I had written so far. But I got a message from my good friend Isa and she said, “Hope may be the most treacherous of things, but it is also the most essential of things. Hope is why we’re here and why we keep going.”

Our pastor also reminded us, “God believes in us more than we believe in ourselves”. In spite of our shortcomings and disbelief, He still looks at us with wonder and He wants us to continue living in His freedom. I pray He awakens our sense of wonder because it comes with hope, bravery, adventure, discovery, purpose, fulfillment, and many other things. I want to believe that we were made for all of that. 

Just as how Robert Frost described a poem, I pray for all of us that this year begins in delight and ends in wisdom. “For God has not given us the spirit of fear (or timidity); but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” -2 Timothy 1:7

My word for 2012 was “SWIM”. I made a painting on New Year’s Eve to illustrate my commitment—that I would Get Out Of The Boat And Swim Through The Current. True enough, this past year has been about just that.

Sometime towards the end of November, I went on an adventure with my co-teachers in Cebu. This group of brave young ladies led me to do one of the things that scared me the most: to stay in a body of water without my feet touching the ground. All my life I’ve stayed by the shore and settled for the colorful rocks, shells, hermit crabs, and small crashing waves. I’d be thankful for low tides because it’s the only reason I’d go any further, but I knew that there was more to see if only I had the courage to go for it.

I actually went snorkeling, got out of the canoe to swim with the whale shark, crossed rivers, climbed rocks, and jumped from five small waterfalls. I had to keep my life vest on most of the time, though— especially because I’m not a good swimmer and I tend to panic while trying to stay afloat. 

Snorkeling was an amazing experience. I saw for myself how it truly is a whole new and different dimension underwater. I remember being fascinated with this blue starfish because she was different and extraordinary. I wanted to bring her home with me on our way back, but I had to let it go. Same goes with the fish that were brave enough to stay in the palm of my hand for a while. I had to accept the fact that they would not survive in my environment. I would keep all of them with me if I could, but they belong underwater and that’s where they ought to stay.

I lost some friends this year. I thought I was going to have them in my life for a really long time but, through this experience, God taught me how to hold people loosely and value them for who they are and for the time that I have them.

Swimming with the whale shark (or butanding, in Filipino) dared me to get out of the boat and take my life vest off. For the first twenty minutes or so, I held on for dear life. I had mixed feelings of fear and excitement whenever I saw the whale shark swim closer to me. Later on, I realized how precious it was and that I could not let that rare moment just pass me by. So I slowly let go and reached out to the butanding. I knew I was not allowed to touch him and that I had to maintain a certain distance, but swimming near him even for just a while was more than enough. It was worth it.

This year, God gave me an opportunity to meet and connect with somebody of the rare kind. Given my trauma of the past, I initially kept my walls up and tried to stay away. But having my personal retreat with God made me understand that holding on to my fears and insecurities keep me from freely living (and loving). I have learned that friendships are worth investing in no matter how uncertain they might be. 

Canyoning (river trekking) was both an exciting and scary experience. Some parts of the rivers were clear while some were not. I could not always be sure about what I was walking on. Some rocks were stable enough while some lacked foundation. I could trust some stones to help me jump from one point to another while some were deceitfully covered in moss that they made me slip. Some currents that led to a waterfall were smooth and steady, while some were rough and rapid. 

Each waterfall was different in size, jumping point, and probably even depth. Of course, the first one made me nervous because I had no idea what I was jumping into and how long it would take for me to get back up. I already had my life vest, the trek guide, the diving instructor, and my company of teachers to save me if anything happened, yet I still doubted. I could hear Matthew 8:26 in my head: “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?”

I finally found the courage within myself—from God, rather—to jump into the water and so I did. I felt the pure cold darkness embrace my body as gravity pulled me deeper. I swallowed a bit of water on my way back up to the surface, but I was fine. My fear eventually faded away as I jumped into the waterfalls that followed, and I actually enjoyed it. 

2012 was all about taking the risk of getting out of the boat, swimming through the current, and not quitting. I dared myself to swim deeper and further not only to get drowned in the reality of life, the many (and often paradoxical) perspectives it offered, but also to the beauty and ugliness of the truth about myself. I feel like a small fish in a vast ocean: I get carried away, or lose track when i swim away from bigger fish trying to eat me up. But God is always there to help me find my way back.

Whenever I reach rock bottom I’d stop swimming and often find myself lost and then curious as to what I will find. I’m not sure if I’m ready to face it, but I have chosen to place my hope in one thing: the constant truth that I am loved by God. As Tony Evans said, “Sometimes God lets you hit rock bottom so that you will find that God is the rock at the bottom.” 

“And then I will look back and be amazed at how God was faithful to me through the vast ocean.” (Maggie Yoingco, December 2011)

source: rainbowerica

Cinderella: “The prince. I haven’t met the prince.”

Prince: “The prince? But didn’t you know—”

Cinderella: “Goodbye!”

I became so happy for a while there that when reality struck I chose to run away. I feared that a friendship that started out so good was about to be taken away from me, like waking up from a dream. Worrying too much made me ignore the value of the blessing right in front of me.

Cinderella [after everything changes back to the way it was before]: I’m sorry. I guess I forgot about everything, even the time, but it was so wonderful. Oh, well, it’s over… Thank you. Thank you so much for everything.

Well, it isn’t quite over because I came back. But now I feel like, at least for me, this friendship is more precious and fragile than ever. Like a glass slipper.

These were notes I wrote down from the first bible study session I attended in CCF, the same night when I re-committed myself to Jesus more than two years ago. I was 21 years old, a fresh college graduate, and a newly-employed preschool teacher. So many new possibilities were in store for me. I could have prayed for bigger and more important things, but at that time I was not sure what I really wanted or how to be happy and content. I remember how sad and hurt I was back then. I just wanted God to lead me where He wanted me to be. 

The message was perfect. It was entitled “The Middle C of Life” (“C” being Christ), a chapter from Max Lucado’s “Travelling Light: Releasing the Burdens You Were Never Intended to Bear”. The entire book is based on Psalm 23. That evening, the focus was on verse 1: The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want.

My former boyfriend and I first met at our university’s theater organization’s annual play fest, entitled “Itaga Mo Sa Bato” (in English, it means “set it in stone” or “carve it in stone”). It’s funny because, at that time, it sounded like a romantic, hopeful, foreshadowing of our love for each other. But then, like most (if not all) human relationships, it changed. It betrayed and abandoned me. Not as permanent as how I had hoped it would be. Not as constant as how God’s love is.

Lately, I feel like I have been depending my happiness again on old and new friendships. It can be scary at times because I’ll never know the day when something causes me or the other person to disappoint, then leave each other broken and unhappy. So I think it’s a good reminder to set our hearts on God, whose love is unchanging, ungoverned, and uncaused. My love for him may be in a fluctuating or plateauing mode, and there may be times when I feel like I am distant from Him. Nevertheless where I am right now is the perfect place to be. God is with me now. He has always been and always will be.

Isa Garcia

(themorninglight)

The Dream Where We Both Just Knew, 11/02/12

watercolor on paper

Anonymous asked: You paint beautifully. The world waits for the beauty you hold in your brush. Keep painting :)

how kind of you to say so, thank you! waking up to this simple message definitely makes me want to keep on painting. when i have a bad day, i will go back to this :) God bless you!

An Adventure Awaits, 10/26/12

watercolor on paper

another artwork for Silid Booklatan

Books Take You To Magical Places, 10/25/12

Watercolor on Paper

This is my first artwork (among a total of four that I aim to accomplish) for Silid Booklatan, a movement to promote reading in underprivileged communities in the Philippines.

Perfect lyrics. Perfect story. Perfect setting.

I have always imagined meeting you for the first time in a cafe or a bookstore (not necessarily in Paris, but it is one of my biggest dreams to go to France). And then you would kindly approach me, introduce yourself, and naturally strike a good conversation where we both actually feel comfortable enough to be ourselves…

But I am not God, so the way our story should go is still all up to Him. This is just how my romantic self has always imagined it to be :)

I can’t wait to meet you, whoever you are.

A Season of Closed Doors and New Beginnings, 10/23/12

Watercolor on Paper

God has been closing so many doors from me this year. I have been rejected in different areas of my life, in spite of my efforts to restore friendships or to find ways to make my dreams happen. He has also been teaching me how to say “no” to good things to give way for better things (or even the best things), and to demand more instead of settling. I try to suck it up and be strong, unlike before when I would sulk too long in my own black well of despair.

I remember how Jesus has been rejected, denied, and abandoned so many times by different people. He did not stay bitter or angry, and He did not avoid people. He continued living out His life the way God wanted Him to. It helps to know that there is a God who knows exactly how I feel because He has experienced these things. It makes me sad that most friendships are seasonal, and it feels frustrating that the steps I have taken to make my dreams happen reached a dead end. These and my other disappointments hurt, but I choose to be at peace with it because I trust that God’s promises are bigger and more wonderful than the plans I have for my life.

Autumn is my favorite season, although I have not actually experienced it yet. I love how it signifies the end of sunny days, and how it foreshadows a gloomy winter that waits for spring. I love how, in spite of the melancholy atmosphere, the colors of the leaves and the way they dance with the wind still make it beautiful.