November 1st. I am sitting here, alone at home, while the rest of my folks are at the cemetery, celebrating that familiar annual festivity for the dead, just like the rest of the Filipinos. I know the rest of my relatives will shun me for not even appearing (for um, two meet-ups straight). However, I feel at peace with my space, glad that there’s a lot of  good show on TV, and finally get to watch the Goosehouse monthly, which I missed yesterday.

Darn it. The sang Sing 2015 as an opening. What could be awesomer? Oh, there is. These guys are in their Halloween costumes!

This week is my try, try, try week. Work has been quite slow, something I never expected a few months ago, but I totally understand why, being at this stage (of what, maturity?). As a freelancer, I need to look for other good sources; opportunities where my skills will be advantageous and my talent can shine. I’ve met a few lovely people who opened doors for me, but results are so-so; as for now, I haven’t convinced them quite yet that I am perfect for the job. But I am happy to be granted the chance to work with them!

Today, a Sunday, I’ve had the pleasure to spent a few seconds (seconds, I tell you) at my home church, just to drop by necessary files WHICH WERE NOT USED EXACTLY (blame me for not emailing the respective persons immediately). And then, tug-tug-tug went my shoes to run back to the car as we drive to NV9.

Gosh, I missed the place. Honestly, it feels different, but c’mon, my three weeks of absence plus them surviving a great flood, how could there not be change? I’m just glad to see them again. Our little mission church was filled with a lot of attendees today, but I don’t think we should keep score, because it’s not about numbers. It’s about lives being transformed.

It’s so nice to see old faces again—people who long have not attended the service. It’s nice to hear them sing songs again. It’s so nice to play the piano. It’s so nice to look at the children and have them smile back at me. The truth is, the original number have diminished and is slowly dropping, but I am thankful for whoever is there. Kim, whom I originally thought was Korean, is a silent onlooker but I can see that she’s very interested to help in the church. I just know she’s someone who’s seeking God, and I wish the Father gives me the opportunity to have a chat with her.

My brother just had his bonus and he treated us lunch. There was that tiny, really tiny nudge why I haven’t shared any of my earnings to the family (which subtly manifests how greatly selfish I am), but that little guilt didn’t put me down. I know, for the past few years, I’ve been splurging for my folks (occasionally, that is), but now that I somehow feel I have the direction, I want to arm myself with the right spending decision.


Looking back, I feel sad that I haven’t been entirely a help to this family financially. My brother, even when he was young, was always saving, and his earnings always helped mom when money was needed. I wasn’t like that. I am a resident, pure-blooded splurger. The prodigal daughter, I sadly tell you. I never got the chance to help my brother in his schooling. I never got the chance to invest in an appliance for my parents. I grew up having most things given to me.

You can tell that selfishness seeps deep inside my skin.

But that doesn’t mean I think always, only, of myself. I’m the one who’d like to keep myself out of the way because I assumed I am such a big bother (which I actually am).

I don’t want to make promises to them. I don’t want to blurt out, “Someday, you’ll be proud of me.” For now, I just want to live. No pressures. I just want to go along the slow climb, the boring pace God has set for me. I still do wish to do something magnificent for my folks. Something that will make them feel happy that this person whom they brought out in this world, serves some purpose. Or is doing something great. Or both. I want them to be proud of themselves. I already know my self-worth.

That, my dear Heavenly Father, is my prayer. Make me a blessing. For all the time I have been a burden, turn my life upside down and inside out, and make every piece of me be some sort of grace.

I am still soaking in my years of selfishness (which is a harsh term for self-love, which I only discovered a few years back), but I am looking forward to the years where I become selfless.

The Weekend Closing: Celebrating the doors we need to close to get to the ones we need to open.