My Mind Speaks

We’ve heard of the all too familiar “for better or worse, for richer or poorer…” vow that has become the staple in most weddings.  A promise of loving your spouse not only for the rest of your days but especially when the going gets rough.  When sickness comes, when tears fall by the bucket, when wallets become as empty as the dark hole and even when broken hearts seem irreplaceable… we all promised to love and stick with each other on our wedding day, or something to that effect. 

A friend once told me to visualize what “the rest of my days” mean so I can have a better understanding of what my wedding vow would mean to me. It was an eye opener to see past my present and look into the future with this same guy. I visualize us growing old, getting sick and even perhaps forgetting who we once were. I shuddered at the thought of  one day  looking at my beloved  and not being able to recognize him because some illness has gotten a hold of my mind or vice versa. And so my thoughts wandered at the horrors of getting old and getting sick. 

I made my own vow and copied what Ruth said to  her mother-in-law in Ruth 1:16-17. It seemed fitting to use that part of the scriptures because Jon and I are of different races. Seven years ago, I promised to go with him wherever he may go and stay where he stays. This is the reason why I am where I am right now and I am happy to be where I am. Was it easy leaving it all behind and going on a journey to a foreign place? No, far from it. But, I promised I would go with him and I did without being forced to do so.

And look what that promise got us. We are now expecting our first child and we are happily situated in a place where we have friends and family. I must confess that married life is never easy. I would be the first to admit and say that leaving and going back to where I “belong” have crossed my mind not just once. And whenever those moments happen, a still small voice never fails to whisper in my ear “Remember your vow”…

  “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.”

I see you and the pain you hide behind those eyes. You wear your mask ever so diligently it has become a part of you, like an appendage. I wish you’d take your mask off, even just for a while and talk to me. Lay your weapon down, my dear, for I’m on your side. Always was, always will. How did we ever become so close we could almost be relatives yet I sit here tonight wondering why I cannot begin to comprehend the distance that has grown  between you and me.

It pains me to see you nurse your aches and fight battles we, as your friends, are willing to fight alongside you. You are a part of this family we agreed to create - a family that will be there for each other no matter what. So don’t push us away because we are not going anywhere. If you need your space, all you need to do is ask. But please don’t lie. Don’t lie that you are fine when I know that you’re not. Don’t lie that you are happy when your eyes say otherwise. Most of all, don’t lie to yourself that you can handle it alone because truth is, everybody needs somebody.

I’m here… please don’t act like I am not. If you need me to be quiet, I will be. If you need me to stay away, I shall do as you please. But I beg of you to just say so. Just say so.

Five years ago, home was in a city situated in the Andes mountain range. The weather is perfect for the most part and when they dubbed it as “eternal spring”, they weren’t kidding. The temperature is always at the 70s and it’s quite comfortable. Fresh produce aren’t hard to find, in fact they are easily bought off the streets. It’s one of those places where you develop a relationship with a certain person because of frequency - whether it’s the lady you buy strawberries from almost every other day or the lady that sells you flowers on a weekly basis.


I loved my work in Quito but most especially, I loved the kids I got the pleasure of working with. It’s a wonderful feeling to see your students (or in my case, I call them my “kids”) excel in their studies and grow up. It was also neat to work with students outside of the classroom. Memories of CSO were amazing because not only where we able to express art in the form of mural painting, we were able to get to know each other better and have gained friends.


Some say we lived in a tiny bubble comprised of mostly AAI teachers and or missionaries. While it is true for the most part, I am glad of the setting. It was our way of being there for each other because outside of that tiny bubble, we really don’t have families as most of us are ex-pats. Thus, we all became members of this amazing AAI family. Thanksgiving, and Christmases are hard when you are away from family but with that familial atmosphere in the school, holidays weren’t so bad.


Tonight, I am missing my life in Quito. True, it wasn’t all blissful but our minds have the capacity of forgetting the bad things and focusing on the good things. I miss my friends - the regular Tuesday lunch date with the ladies, the fishing trips in Mica and the hiking/camping/trekking activities with the Newburns, the game nights, the Sunday cafecito with the Alliance missionaries and even the Spotlight ministries. I miss the kids who would visit my classroom every afternoon, their games that they always invite me to watch, the birthday parties that the kids have, and even the surprise parties they throw for me.


They say that home is where your heart is. In that case, I have many homes and Quito is one of them.

Be careful what you wish for. I’m sure you have heard that statement before - this is not something new, in fact this is something that is tried and tested.

A year ago, I watched my husband in envy as he stresses over his workload as a teacher. He comes home every single day filled with work-related stories that are mostly frustrating and vexing that almost always renders him emotionally and physically drained.  We would go for our daily walks so he can have an outlet and we would talk about how our days have been. It’s mostly how his days had been since mine was monotonous and primarily uneventful.

While Jon was buried neck deep with school related responsibilities, I was on the opposite end of the spectrum. Sure, both of us were struggling: he, struggling to balance work and married life while I was struggling to keep my sanity. Yes. Sanity.  I was unemployed, undecided about what I really want in life and to be truthful, I was utterly lost.

Growing up, I had it all planned or so I thought. I knew exactly what I wanted in life and I thought I knew how to go about it. Until God changed my heart and everything changed - for the better. It is indeed for the better but was/is it easy? No, far from it. I spent two years figuring out, weighing my options as one door of opportunity seem to open up only to slam it shut as I come near and going back and forth as to whether or not it was a good idea to come back to the States during the economic crisis. Two years of wrestling with God about the desires of my heart and His desires for me. In my two years of idling away, I did what I thought would be suitable as I convinced myself that maybe I was made to be a stay home wife. I took on projects such as knitting, gardening, crocheting, and sewing. All of them I learned the basics but never really developed a passion for them. I painted the house and chose colors meticulously because well, I had all the time in the world; watched a lot of documentaries and even learned to play online games. I read a lot of books, and I cooked a lot but I was still very confused and unhappy. I wanted to go home to the Philippines and start all over again.

On one of my breaking points, I told my husband that I would gladly be stressed over a job. I would gladly take classes that will frustrate me because at least I know I am going somewhere - there is a goal at hand. I would gladly exchange my boring and mundane day to day life style to a life that is busy and fast paced just like it used to be. I said that out of sheer frustration and longing to have something different other than staying home and conjuring up various things just to keep my mind from going insane. It didn’t help that I really didn’t have a lot of friends other than my church family.

And God has a great sense of humor. So He granted all those desires.  A year ago, I got accepted to the masters program and three days after that, I got myself a job. Currently, I am stressed with my job - a combination of workload and workplace issues and I am overwhelmed with school work sometimes I think there is not enough time in a day to finish them all. It’s funny to look back and see how much things have changed over a year. A year ago, I was complaining that I was bored and now, I am still complaining… complaining that I am busy.

In the midst of my crazy busy life, I have learned a lot - of God’s sustaining grace and mercy, of a husband’s love, support and patience, of familial (either created, through blood or by law) support and the necessity of friendships as a reminder of how wonderful life is.

So I shouldn’t complain. After all, I asked for this. I wanted this - God simply granted my desires. And so for the next months, my life will revolve around school and work and hopefully when school is done, I can breathe a little and play a little.

Lately my mind has been preoccupied with serious grown up things - life problems I thought I would never hear from friends only to realize that most of us are not so lucky.  As I examine my life and the people in and around it, I have come to the realization that my presence to most of my friends resemble that of a family therapist - someone you can freely open up your heart out to and at the same time, someone you can guiltlessly seclude or ignore for whatever reason.  Perhaps, the thread that binds us all empowers the willingness of the heart to open up and the comfort of knowing that the person will be standing right there beside you no matter how hard you push them away strengthens the thinking that I will be there long after you shut the door or pulled the rug under my feet.

tonight at work, my attention was hailed by a blinker at the front lanes. when you work the lanes, you establish a love-hate relationship with a blinker and more often than not, its erratic light seizure beckons you to solve a problem the cashier cannot and you better hope it does not end with the guest screaming at you. such was the case tonight.

i saw the all-too familiar blinking light and like second nature, i approached the lane with caution. i have learned that nine times out of ten, it is best to come prepared - mind alert, emotions in check and armors up.  the cashier proceeded on telling me what the situation was with a look of exasperation written all over her face. i glanced at the guest too many times looking for clues for emotional outburst as it was quite obvious she was about to lose it. i gently told the guest that i could help her in the guest service area with the sole purpose of isolating the rising volatile state that her emotion is already reaching. i braced myself for yet another angry guest yelling at me as i helped her explain what seemed to me was the simplest and easiest problem to solve. the problem was not because her issues were complicated, it was because it seemed like she was carrying the entire world on her shoulders that a simple gift card payment could not be processed by her mind at the moment due to medical and family problems she’s dealing with.

i must admit, i  remained gentle and kind because i thought she had special needs. i must have spent a good 15 minutes or so explaining to her why her gift card could not purchase the merchandise she wanted to get - it was a trying part on both accounts; me, trying my best to simplify the explanation without sounding annoyed and she, trying to understand what i was telling her. in the course of what seemed like forever, i have learned that she’s been having a rough time -in fact, rougher than mine.  i looked at her arms and i was mortified with the scaling of her skin from her fingers all the way to her upper arms. she told me she is sick with sclerosis and to top it all off, she is taking care of a dying mother who is domineering. my heart ached for the lady and all i could respond in between her sentences was a sincere “i’m sorry”. she asked me what she should do with regards to visiting her mother tonight or tomorrow. we talked a few more minutes about her hard life and after she finished pouring her heart out, she was no longer in the state of picking a fight. i realized that all she needed was someone to listen to her. she then apologized for her attitude and for taking my time with her life story and thanked me over and over for listening and for being kind.  she called me by my name because i was wearing my name tag and she offered her hand for a handshake to end our conversation. when she extended her hand, i told her that maybe she needed a hug so i walked out of the guest service counter and walked right up to her and hugged her.  she was surprised that i offered a hug because she thought i was afraid of her skin condition. i told her i wasn’t and i bade her goodnight and wished her a better day tomorrow. she thanked me profusely and as i was walking back to the lanes, she stopped me and asked for another hug before she leaves. i gave her another one and she left the store smiling and with eyes on the verge of tears.

i stood in amazement trying to understand what just occurred… i do not normally hug strangers…yes, i hug my friends but not grumpy, scaly and smelly strangers. i went back to whatever i was doing prior to being called by the blinker but i felt real joy inside. i was smiling and joyful… somehow, showing compassion makes a whole difference, not just to the person on the receiving end but also to the one giving it.  you know when they say you are to bless other people? well, it goes both ways - when you do, you are blessed to be a blessing.

i hurt. i break. and i second guess…

of what you are made of, of this friendship and what i am to you.

i speak. i learn and i quiet down my tears

because at the end of the day, i am what you make me feel.

yesterday i was special. today, i am merely ordinary

a familiar yet blurry face in the crowded alley

a helping hand that you can’t even recognize

and only in the time of need, you find me

i care. i trust. but time and again my heart is shattered

you cared… maybe yesterday but not entirely today

tomorrow, maybe you will or maybe you wont

and when tomorrow comes, i shall ache all over again

i pick up the pieces of the heart you’ve broken

too many times over, are you aware of this?

without meaning to, you redeem yourself

and i let it slide, and we are back at it again

i should stop. maybe i will

will you notice or even care?

i fear you wont because you’re you

so maybe i should just really let you go.