Finding My Heartbeat and That Which Makes My Heart Beat

Beginnings: Flashback, four months ago

I wave goodbye with tears freely flowing from my eyes as I enter the departure area of the Davao international airport.  It felt like I was leaving a very large part of me behind and not knowing when I would be able to go back was heart wrenching.


Chapter Endings: Fast forward, September 11

I cry buckets of tears as Carla, a very dear friend, the younger sister I never had, gives her testimony during the church's prayer gathering.  She shares what going to Davao did to her and she bids farewell to us who have been her family in the seven years that she was away from home.


Somewhere in Between

I think majority, if not all, of us have been tempted to skip to the end of a book we are reading.  There is that anticipation and desire to know how things end that make skipping to the final pages very tempting.

But reading just the beginnings and the endings never make sense and it somehow robs one of the joy of experiencing the opportunity to completely involve and engage one's self in a story.  This testimony is what is "in-between" my beginnings and chapter endings of my Davao saga.

In the time between April 14 and August 18, I got to convince three of my closest church friends to go back to Davao and walk the mountains that showed me what my heart was made of.

It was very easy to convince one.  Cookie, being the very supportive friend that she is, readily ran with my heart.  I had to use the "travel the Philippines" card on Bobbie.  And on Carla, I had to get down on my knees to pray that she would decide to go as she was going through difficult times in her life and was prone to "change plans" out of the blue.

Why was I so bent on having my sisters in church go back to Davao with me?  I wanted them to see what I saw last summer as I walked the majestic mountains of Davao.  I wanted them to feel what I felt last summer as I lived with the Matigsalugs.  I wanted them to see the God of tribes and nations who was so real in the life and worship of this people.

Why was I so bent on going back to Davao?  Because it was in Davao that I found my heart.  And in any story of a journey to self discovery one always wants to go back to the mirror that showed a person his reflection.  I wanted to look closely into the mirror to see what else was in me.

God did not disappoint; He showed me His heart and I heard my heartbeat.

We were participants in the trial run of the Osmosis Project.  There couldn't have been a better opportunity for me to look closely at my reflection than this.  The Osmosis Project's goal is "to draw out from the participants their own desires and vision for holistic transformation of indigenous communities and to engage the participants' imagination so they might see what is possible for themselves as individuals, for the team as a whole, as well as for the community and social contexts from which they come and to which they will return."

We were to do what the Matigsalugs did, listen to their stories and dreams, and share ours as well.  Listening to and sharing of stories or what we call "pakikipagkwentuhan" might sound unproductive to many.  Admittedly, there is no tangible output after an hour of "pakikipagkwentuhan" but it is in the "pakikipagkwentuhan" that people's hearts get to connect.

It is in "pakikipagkwentuhan" that a mutuality of relationships is established, hence the prefix "pakiki".  It is in "pakikipagkwentuhan" that another person's dreams also become your own, another person's struggles yours, and another person's heartbeat the rhythm of your heartbeat as well.

God showed me His heart through "pakikipagkwentuhan".  I heard of stories that made my teacher heart bleed.
These are stories of children having only two school days because the teachers are not able to spend the whole week up in the mountains.  I heard of stories of mass promotion and no clear measurement of a student's readiness to be promoted to the next grade level.  I heard of stories of school children trekking under the heat of the sun everyday just so they can go to school.  I saw classrooms badly in need of repairs.  I saw torn textbooks and textbooks left to rot at the jeepney drop off point at the foot of the mountain.

After hearing these stories and seeing these things, I heard my heartbeat.  God birthed dreams in my teacher heart.  Tribal Mission Foundation is starting to develop a curriculum for pre-school indigenous children.  They call it Foundational Learning for Indigenous Children or FLIC.  I saw the opportunity to help and be part of something as grand as shaping the minds of young indigenous children, to help them be proud of their identity, and to spur them to claim their own destiny.  FLIC is something I would really like to work on and be a part of.  This is one of the reasons why I wanted to become a teacher and why Cookie and I want to put up our own school in the future.  This is shaping the mind of a whole generation for national transformation.


Chapter Endings and New Beginnings: Love and My Heartbeat

It is funny how going to Davao always amazes me.  It is easy to go on missions trips and say you are helping and giving because you happen to have the financial capacity to do so.  But in the two occasions that I walked these mountains, it was always I who went back to Manila with so much more.

The first time I went up, the Matigslugs taught me to open my heart and risk it in order to build relationships.  That was why I was crying four months ago.  I opened my heart and it fed on the love that easily flowed in the Matigsalug community.  I did not know if I would ever be able to experience such openness and love in the busyness of Manila.  Today, it is something that I experience with old and new friends, with students and co-teachers, with current and future family members.

This second trip showed me that the heart doesn't just have to be open but that it must beat in synchrony with other hearts.  To reach that point wherein you no longer keep count as to who is giving and who is receiving but the focus is on whether or not you have the same heartbeat.  And that is why I was crying last Friday.  The idea of missing the cadence of Carla's heartbeat was painful.

But that is the way of the heart, I guess.  You risk, you love, and you feel pain when there is loss.  Because pain shows you that what was lost was of value.  But it doesn't mean that you will lose that rhythm, for "the heart in its purity knows no other thing but to connect and beat in synchrony with other hearts" (graffiti in a train seat as cited by de Guia, 2005).

Until I walk the mountains of Davao again and be reunited with the Matigsalugs, I shall be content with listening to the cadence of my heartbeat.  Right now, I like the way it sounds.  It has the rhythm of dreams that have just been birthed and visions that are waiting to come to pass.

I would like to take this time to say "thank you" in behalf of the whole team that went to Davao last August 19-26.  I thank you, Church of the Risen Lord for supporting me, Cookie, Carla, and Bobbie in this missions trip.  Thank you, Pastor VJ for sending us with your blessings and your covering.  Thank you to the missions board for your willingness to support and send us out into the missions field.  May God bless our church as we partner with Him in fulfilling the Great Commission.  And may we have even more opportunities to sow seeds and harvest souls in the vast mission field.  Amen.

Of Walks, Journeys, and Roads that Lead to the Heart

When I was still in college, studying to get my undergradtuate degree, I had a class called Psychology of Language. It was in this course that I learned about the different meanings a word could take in a particular culture and context. It was interesting for me that a word can take on many different meanings and connotations depending on how it is used or who uses it.

I think the words “walking” and “journeying” would be very good illustrations for this. One might say that the two words have similar meanings but if we look closely, the two are very different from each other.

“Walking” conjures up a picture of feet in motion. “Journeying” on the other hand conjures up a vision of a destination. A goal. A Promised Land. It is possible that one walks for years yet there is no clear direction or that one is merely walking around the wilderness. On the other hand, it is quite unfathomable for a person to journey without reaching a destination.

A destination doesn’t always have to be a physical place. One could journey to the deepest recesses of one’s heart. It is possible to journey to one’s soul. One’s desires. One’s hopes. Interstingly, we cannot say that we will “walk” to our hearts. It just seems inappropriate to “walk” matters that pertain to the heart.

In a journey it is quite expected that one would come across demons that have to be faced or even slain. This is probably why, as we journey to the deepest recess of our heart, we get the opportunity to face our personal demons and slay them. It is also in a journey of self discovery that one experiences miracles. We either embrace who we are or end up hating ourselves and wishing we were somebody else.

Walking the mountains of Davao gave me the opportunity to journey the hidden paths of my heart. I believe that it has also created new trails. Who would have thought that, as I walked under the heat of the sun, I would journey into my heart’s passions. It was in walking these mountains that I got to know myself, face a few monsters, and experience the miracle of love.

These mountains became a way for me to know myself and what I valued and held dear to my heart. These mountains do not have the comforts I am used to having in the city – toilets, water, electricity, beds, varied food… It would be very easy to say that the people in these mountains are deprived. But for me, it was the other way around. It was I who felt impoverished.

One can see a certain security in the midst of the people’s “poverty”. It is as if they knew a secret to living. It could be the knowledge that they were in the land that nurtured their hearts, held their past, and contains their futures. I, on the other hand, had to take a two-hour plane ride and walk for four hours to awaken my soul’s desires, to have a sense of history, and to birth dreams and visions in my heart.

It was in the wilderness that I found my heart. In the past, it had been easier to choose to protect my heart but in this journey it would’ve been foolish not to risk the heart. It was all about the heart. It was in this journey that I felt such a deep desire to give my life for a people. I wanted to be part of something so much bigger than myself.

Call it idealism. Is it wrong to want what is best? Is it wrong to desire what is noble? Is it wrong to pursue what and how things should be? I have always been jealous of those individuals who have found a specific cause they could give their hearts and lives to. Why not this people for me? I could give off myself without calculating, serve without hesitation, and love without fear of rejection.

In a few weeks I shall be walking these mountains again. The trails might be familiar by then. Or I might have an easier time adjusting to the living conditions. I might even be closer to the members of the community. The possibilities are endless but one thing is certain: this time, I won’t be visting. I shall be returning to where I left my heart.

A FLOWER IN A FARMER’S FIELD

Para sa mga nagsisikap makuha ang mga gusto nila sa buhay. Para sa mga nabigo at sa mga nagtagumpay. Para sa mga nag-aasam ng karunungan at kahusayan. Para sa ating lahat. :)

*convocation speech ng Silliman University president. napaka-ganda, maraming quotable quotes (emphasis mine).

*****

Text: Job 28

A story is told of a farmer one day working his field. He worked hard and he was pleased with his crops. They were growing well, rows and rows of green, promising a good harvest. Then his eyes caught a rather odd thing: a flower growing amidst his crops. It was too beautiful to be a weed and so he plucked it up to take home.

Suddenly, the earth shook and trembled. And a nearby hill opened up to reveal a deep cave inside. Awed, he rushed to it. And he saw that inside the cave were shining and glittering things. He went in and found that there inside the cave was a trove of treasures. Valuable gems. Gold, rubies, sapphire, diamonds.

He could not believe what he saw. And so, drawn by the spell of treasures, he went in and started scooping as much of the glittering stones as he could. He stuffed them in his pockets, and clutched as much of them as his hands can carry. He thought of getting out and to pile them outside in the grass, then come back for more.

But as soon as he started stepping out of the cave, a voice rang from inside the depths of the hill. “Don’t forget the most important thing!” said the voice. Looking around for what very precious thing he might have missed, he saw that he had the most valuable of them already. And so he rushed right out to pile his treasures in the grass outside and intended to rush back for more.

As he moved toward the mouth of the cave, again the voice warned: “Don’t forget the most important thing!” This time, he didn’t as much pause to consider what the voice was warning him. He rushed out of the cave, laden with gems he had with him.

As soon as he stepped out of the cave, the earth again shook and trembled. This time, the hill moved and closed the cave. It swallowed the rest of the treasures still inside. The farmer was dismayed. But he still had much of what he had brought out. He consoled himself that with what he already has he is still very rich beyond his wildest dreams. But, alas, the treasures he had brought out had all turned to dust.

You see, in his fascination with the glittering gems, and in his rush to get as much of them as he can, he had forgotten to bring out the cave with him the flower that opened the hill in the first place. Amidst the glitter of things, the frenzy to have as much, he lost sight of the beautiful. He forgot the flower. He forgot and had lost sight of the essential. And so he lost everything.

This story is almost like what we read in Job 28. This text in Job tells of humanity having acquired great and valuable things. They have treasure troves of knowledge and skills and of the power and prowess to do astounding feats. They can go to the deepest bosoms of the earth to mine precious metals. They can make food grow on the surface of the earth, when underneath is burning fire. They can stop rivers and redirect them to where they want them to go. And they have the knowledge to acquire things that even the most ferocious beasts are not able to touch.

Humanity, says our text in Job, has much treasures of things, talents and technology. Indeed, today, it can tame the distance of space and the depths of the seas. It can build big and huge structures and bask in luxury that not even Solomon could have done.

And yet, humanity continues to be a sorry lot. It cannot seem to get out of the rut of routine; out of viciousness and violence; out of frustrations and fears; and out of deceit and conceit. So many, everywhere, continues to be tormented by abuse and anger; by worries and wars; and maddened by desperate lusts for power, prominence and approbation. Life to most, it seems, is about one’s ability to pretend and to contend.

Humanity has a lot, but it continues to lack, and to be gripped by the fear of not having enough. You see, says our text in Job, humanity has forgotten the most important thing, the essential. In its fanatical, single-minded and obsessive quest for what pleases the eyes, the body and pride, humanity has forgotten wisdom, the core of any person’s ability to appreciate, and, hence, to relish life.

Knowledge is power, but wisdom is essential. Knowledge allows us to do things, and to do great things. But wisdom gives meaning – and so, value – to what we are able to do. It is like this: knowledge is like having the ability to build a house, even a great big house; but wisdom is what makes the house a home. Knowledge gives us power to stock our houses with many things, with the best there is. But it is wisdom that allows us to place value on peace, on quiet, on privacy and solitude, on love for each other, which are the essentials of a home.

Wisdom, however, says many, is elusive. It is too nebulous to be readily defined, and so is not much to be made into something important. I submit not. Wisdom, says our text in Job, is simply “to fear the Lord.”

Fear the Lord, and in that is wisdom.

And what is it to fear the Lord? Is it like to fear vicious predators, or abusive spouses and mates, or like fearing enemies out to tear you to pieces? Is to fear the Lord like fearing ghosts or malignant diseases?

I submit three simple propositions about how it is to fear the Lord:

First, to fear the Lord is simply to recognize that everything is the Lord’s; that there is no mountain high enough as Moses’ Sinai, or waters deep enough as the Red Sea, or places far enough as Egypt was from Canaan in Joseph’s time, or pits more dangerous than the one with lions in Daniel’s case, no place or circumstance too fearsome or too delightful, where and when God cannot reveal His glory. To fear the Lord is to simply recognize that in even the depths of our sorrows and losses, or when we fall and stumble, or when we rise in victory, these are equal times that manifest God’s presence.

Second, to fear the Lord is to simply recognize that His will and intentions always prevail over ours. In hubris and pride, we may many times think that we are the ones that control our affairs and our lives. But think again. How many more times do we need to see ourselves failing, see ourselves disappointed over unfulfilled desires and aims in life, before we realize that we really have no control over our present or on how we’ll turn out to be in the future? Fearing the Lord is to give credit where credit is due: God is a greater presence and a greater power in our world and in our lives, more than what and how we can make them to be.

And third, to fear the Lord is to simply recognize that who we are (however much we think lowly or highly of ourselves) find ultimate and final value only in God. Our friends and family may many times make us feel important. Our colleagues may many times make us feel needed. But friends, family and colleagues could abandon us. In any moment, they could decide that we’re not any bit deserving of their love or attention. Worse, friends, colleagues, and even families, may turn to hate us. But not God. We are precious lambs in God’s sight. Even the worst of us (or even when we are at our worst), God loves us. And He cares. And He gives us value. A value equal to the life of His sonly Son.

But, alas, in our quests for life’s gold, rubies, sapphires and diamonds; in our frenzied daily quests for attention and power, and to be persons that matter to all, or to be the best and have the best and the most; we forget the essential, we forget the beautiful flower in the fields of our lives. We forget to fear the Lord. We forget wisdom.

We forget that we need not be maddened by our life quests. That even as we must strive to have some attention, have some power and have some things, we trust that in our strivings – in all our strivings and preoccupations in life – God is present, God is the future, and God is watching and caring over us, and placing value on our labor.

Wisdom bestows meaning to our strivings. And with wisdom, our strivings become not lusts and vicious competitions, not frenzied amassing of the good things, not maddening quests to be ahead, but quiet manifestations of faith. With wisdom, with incessant fear of the Lord, our strivings become dignified. They acquire meaning. And they acquire dignity and integrity.

Full Article Available On-line: http://www.su.edu.ph/pres_speaks/bsm_aflowerinafarmersfield.htm

You are my passion*

I look into your eyes and I see the future
I look into your eyes and I see endless possibilities
I look into your eyes and I see a fire 

Once again, there is that fire that burns so bright in summer
There is that fire that makes you giddy
There is that fire that pushes you to speak as if you’re invincible
And when I see that fire, that passion, I always come undone

I look at you and my heart skips a beat or two
I look at you and I remember why I’m here and why I can never seem to leave
I look at you and a promise is renewed in my heart
I will give my life to see you rise up
I will give my life to see you conquer your Canaan
I will give my life to see you fall deeper and deeper in love

And it is during these times that it is so easy to do a Caleb
To wait, however long it takes, to see you enter the Promised Land
It is during these times that the tears were all worth it
And that I would gladly shed more if it is what will water the soil of your heart

I pray that the passion stays.

*Tribute to the CYF 2008 campers

para sa (mga) estudyante (ko)

MInamahal kong estudyante,
    Para lang sa kaalaman mo, binabasa ko ang bawat salita at pahina ng mga papel na ipinapasa mo sa akin. Nakakapagod at minsan masakit sa ulo (because its very good to English yourself) pero binabasa ko pa rin ang mga ito. Hindi dahil sa martir ako (haller!), kung 'di dahil sa prinsipyo. Kung ako ang estudyante gugustuhin ko rin na basahin ng guro ko ang mga papel na ipinapasa ko. Siympre naman! Pinaghirapan ko ang mga 'yon tapos hindi niya babasahin. Kaazar naman 'yon, davah?
    Kaso may malaki tayong problema. Nabasa ko na sa Inquirer Sunday Magazine yung article na sinulat mo tungkol sa isang taong may clothing business. Nabasa ko na rin bilang forwarded e-mail yung short story na sinulat mo tungkol sa babaeng pipi. Nabasa ko na rin sa internet yung sinulat mo tungkol sa pambansang bayani nating si Manny Paquiao, este, Jose Rizal pala. Pati ba naman yung kunwa-kunwariang letter of application na exercise natin ay cut-and-paste galing sa Google? Iilang sentences na nga lang yon; at tungkol pa sa sarili mo ang isusulat mo, tapos sa internet mo pa rin kinuha? Pati nga format hindi mo na binago.
    Hay. Okay lang sana kung nag-paraphrase ka o 'di kaya'y gumamit ng quotation marks. Kaso hindi. Inangkin mo ang gawa ng iba at ipinalabas mong gawa mo ito. Ang tawag dito ay plagiarism. At ang pag-pi-plagiarize ay may karampatang parusa. Sa simula pa lang ng semstre sinabi ko na (at nakasulat pa ito sa syllabus natin): CHEATING IN ANY FORM WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.
    Kailan nga ba masasabing "cheating" o "intellectual dishonesty" ang ginawa ng isang estudyante?

"In research, the most prevalent act of dishonesty is plagiarism, i.e., copying a work verbatim or misrepresenting it as one’s own. If a student downloads essays from various websites, cuts a paragraph or two from each of them, and comes up with a paper from the patchwork, that is cheating. If the student merely cites his or her sources yet maintains the patchwork without actually writing the paper himself or herself, that is still cheating.

 
Another form of cheating is the deliberate fabrication of data or information to suit one’s conclusions in a formal academic exercise. No doubt, the advent of multimedia and information technology has simply made this old practice more widespread and blatant."

[Source: Panao, A.L. (Jan.-Feb. 2008). Who really loses when a student cheats? The UP Forum 9 (1). Retrieved March 19, 2003 from http://up.edu.ph/upforum.php?i=176&]

    Ayan. Sana ay naliwanagan ka at nawa'y maintindihan mo kung bakit mababa ang marka mo.

                                                                                              Nagmamahal,
                                                                                              Iyong guro

it's very good to English myself ;p

In the aftermath of the Janina San Miguel Bb. Pilipinas controversy we are led to ask ourselves, "why do we try so hard to speak in a language that is not our own?" The answer to this question will need a separate blog entry. Sometimes, it is not "very good to English yourself." But we are in a country where leaders "think" English is the language so we are forced to learn it and speak it even if we can't or don't want to. (roll eyes)

This entry is about the rules that we violate in academic writing. These rules are from Strunk and White's The Elements of Style. I love this book because the authors are sarcastic. Haha. Here are some excerpts:

certainly   Used indiscriminately by some speakers, much as others use very, in an attempt to intensify any and every statement. A mannerism of this kind, bad in speech, is even worse in writing.

enthuse   An annoying verb growing out of the noun enthusiasm. Not recommended.

facility   Why must jails, hospitals, schools suddenly become "facilities"?
ex.    He has been appointed warden of the new facility.
        He has been apponted warden of the new prison.

finalize   A pompous, ambiguous verb. Finalize is not standard; it is special, and it is a peculiarly fuzzy and silly word. Does it mean "terminate," or does it mean "put into final form"? One can't be sure, really, what it means, and one gets the impression that the person using it doesn't know, either, and doesn't want to know.

-ize   Do not coin verbs by adding this tempting suffix. Many good and useful verbs do end in -ize: summarize, temporize, fraternize, harmonize, fertilize. But there is a growing list of abominations: containerize, prioritize, finalize, to name four. Be suspicious of -ize; let your ear and your eye guide you. Never tack -ize onto a noun to create a verb. Usually you will discover that a useful verb already exists. Why say "moisturize" when there is the simple, unpretentious word moisten?

people    A word with many meanings. The people is a political term, not to be confused with the public. From the people comes political support or opposition; from the public comes artistic appreciation or commercial patronage. The word people is best not used with words of number, in place of persons. If of "six people" five went away, how many people would be left? Answer: one people.

personally   Often uneccessary.
ex.   Personally, I thought it was a good book.
       I thought it a good book.

prestigious   Often an adjective of last resort. It's in the dictionary, but that doesn't mean you have to use it.

secondly, thirdly, etc.    Unless you are prepared to begin with firstly and defend it (which will be difficult), do not prettify numbers with -ly. Modern usage prefers second, third, and so on.

so   Avoid, in writing, the use of so as an intensifier: "so good"; "so warm"; "so delightful."

the forseeable future    A cliche, and a fuzzy one. How much of the future is forseeable? Ten minutes? Ten years? Any of it? By whom is it forseeable? Seers? Experts? Everybody?

very    Use this word sparingly. Where emphasis is necessary, use words strong in themselves.

-----
Of course I can't help but add "abominations" that I have encountered.

Abomination #1: mature   This word can be used as an adjective or a verb. When using it as an adjective, it is funny to use it in the past tense.
ex.   She is mature. (sentence pattern: S-LV-Cadj)
       She is matured. (sentence pattern: S-LV-V)

Abomination #2: cope up   The verb cope means "to keep up". Saying "cope up" is saying "keep up up".

Abomination #3: taken cared of   This is from Cookie's list of abominations. Why is it that we feel the need to write care in the past tense when take is already a past participle?
-----
Oh well... I still hate the "English-as-medium-of-instruction-policy". It just doesn't make sense to me. Why do we need to teach Math and Science in English when it is more effective to teach them in Filipino? What's with this "globally competitive" mindset? Hmph.

It's very good to English myself because I am Pilipino and this is a prestigious country of English. The very important is that I expressed myselves and people understands me. Ahlavet! ;p

Valentine's Day Stages of Grief

Denial (02.14.08)
I got the text message between classes. I put down my phone, closed my eyes, and put my head in my hands. Then I picked up the phone again. I reread the message hoping it had changed. Nope. Unfortunately, it didn't.

I went through the motions of the rest of the day. When I got home I read the message again and thought to myself, "this can't be happening." I decided to write my thoughts to make some sense out of them. I was never really close to him. I'm not affected. It's sad that it happened but, well... things like that happen...

Anger (02.15.08)
But even I did not buy my own rationalizations. What happened was wrong. It was senseless and unfair. It should never have happened. I was "angry" because some people were careless and irresponsible. And because of that carelessness and irresponsibility people were hurting.

I talked to some of my students about it. I reminded them of the importance of being responsible. I hated the fact that it could have been avoided if only people were responsible enough. I disccussed it with my friends and I kept on harping about who should be responsible for the tragedy.

Bargaining (02.15.08)
I was in no position to bargain. I looked at the kids and my heart grieved. I prayed, "just let the kids be alright. Let them grow up without resentment."

Depression (02.16.08)
It took all of my effort to drag myself out of bed for my 7 o'clock class on a cold Saturday morning. I didn't want to go to school. I just wanted to stay home until the time that I had to leave for UP for the 8pm service.

I arrived at church just as the worship team started singing "Still". I looked around and saw people I haven't seen in ages--those who moved on to their home churches after studying in UP; those who have been so busy with work that they never found the time to visit; those whose lives have been touched one way or another...

Acceptance (02.16.08)
A former UPCYMian: Most of us are from the province. When we came to UP we had no family and this church became our family. PK was not just our pastor, he was like a father to us.

A mother: PK was intrumental in my sons' spiritual journeys--when they received Jesus Christ into their lives PK played a big part.

A Bible study leader: PK's sermons had depth... I found myself asking my wife for a pen so I could write down his insights.

"Let us stop asking ourselves, 'why?' instead let us ask, 'what next?' Those of us whose lives have been touched by PK and Tita Belle, let us make our lives count so that they would not have died in vain."

That night my tears flowed freely. The tears that did not come when I read the text message nor when I prayed for the kids came in a steady stream. I cried not because I was grieving for their deaths. I cried because I saw the legacy they have made. A legacy that will live on for generations.

I cried with holy envy. These were lives offered to Jesus. There is a loss, yes, but there should be no regrets. People were nurtured in the faith. Jesus, I want the same legacy. I want to live for you so passionately that the people around me will know you and will love you and live for you.

Yes, it's going to be okay. Because the kernel has fallen and died and so it has produced many seeds (John 12:24). God, thank you for the privilege of knowing PK and Tita Belle.

*Pastor and wife killed in Valentine road mishap