Putting on a pair of heels and a white lacy dress is not something I would do on a Sunday, especially with the fact that I have to walk across an overpass, wait for a good ten minutes and probably stumble over the small aisle as I walk inside the bus. Commuting changed my Sunday style, but today was different, because for the first time after a long time, I’m riding the car, along with my family, on the way to church.

It was strange that I felt unpretty and bloated, and by the time I was halfway through a pack of yema candies I discovered in the pastoral ref, I realized what it was. I was on my period. My body was telling. There were signs of pain throughout the week.

Funny how God never left me in the dark. That in one way or another, He’s going to tell me things. Not through miracles, but in the little details we often ignore.

I had a rush of fear and anxiety by the middle of the week as I discovered a 2018 debut book had a premise so similar to mine. Piano, compositing songs, a boy and a girl. Guess what. My feels went all amok and I was reeling in some sort of inner-war. What if people compare my story to hers? What if they assume I copied the theme? What if mine won’t get published because of a similar book?

Yup. Not easy. But thankfully, God patted my head, gave me peace, and helped me cope with the fact that NO BOOK is an original, except God’s amazing plan for our salvation (COPY THAT YOU OTHER SUPERNATURAL CREATURES). He told me it’s OK, that it’s not that similar, and that my story will have a place in the world, just as everyone else’s. Where? That’s what we’re all yet to find out.

I think of writing. Always.

Speaking of story, I think a whole week of not looking at SALTFOLK gave me a good breather, and made me actually miss it. I miss writing. I miss waking up in the middle of the night, trying to take note of sudden thoughts that might change the whole plot. I miss thinking of scenes that made me hilariously crack up. I miss my six-hour dedicated manuscript formulating time and the feeling of heading to a certain direction.

I’ll be back to writing next week, if I have free time. SALTFOLK needed some polishing. Imagine my horror when I discovered a treasure trove of grammatical errors hiding in the sentences! I am shriveling in shame realizing I have already given a full to one agent. She might have already slashed my name out of her potential client list. HU HU HU.

If there’s anything that could probably distract me from writing, that would be working, which is a MUST, especially now that the gift-giving season is approaching. Remember the cards I have been planning to make? NADA. I still need to have enough money to pay for February’s insurance, and I need to hustle with these muscles. Hopefully, I get good projects this coming week.

Prayers, if you will

My dad is heading to a special two-day immersion with a beautiful indigenous tribe tomorrow and I pray he and his group discovers bless, and be blessed, by our cultural brothers and sisters. I promised my Sunday School kids a Bible review session, which includes sweets, as our own way of Trick-or-Treat, but before that, I’m speaking at Atlag UMC this coming Friday for their U-Turn service.

The miracles I’d love to have is for another agent to ask me a full, or for a nice project to drop on my lap. But, then again, whatever God is working out for me is just fine. After over thirty years of existence, I have learned how to wait things out gracefully, and that, I will.

May you find your own kind of miracle this week. And if not, may the miracle be that you learn to wait things out too. x