They say that patience is a virtue… and that the good things in life are worth the wait.

I have been getting antsy these past couple of weeks, waiting for the approval of my book to be displayed and sold at two major local bookstores. The requirements have been met, only a few more legal stuff to be addressed, and we are good to go… 

Waiting is not always fun, though.  At times it can even be excruciating.  But then I also tell myself that there is a reason — and a season — for everything. There are things in life that you simply cannot rush. 

Just a little more… we will get there somehow.

In the meantime, let me leave you with this… 


We were young. We were in love. The world was a happy place… – Lizzie, Chapter 18, p.54

Because love is a wonderful thing… and is worth the wait!  


Twenty Years in Between… The Love Story of Lizzie and Joseph

Available now at Central Books, SM Mega Mall Bldg A, 5F and http://www.centralbooks.com.ph online bookstore.

Available SOON at select National Bookstore and Power Books branches

❤ ❤ ❤


photo collage is the author’s 🙂



First of June

And just like that, it’s the first of June.  Five months have already passed… we are almost at the halfway mark of 2016.  Where has time gone??

I can still distinctly remember celebrating New Year’s Eve with my family and friends. Then came a series of post-Christmas reunions.  Then came Valentine’s day — which I honestly have no recollection of… Then Holy Week which we spent here at home. Then the national elections which happened first week of May.

And now it’s June 1.

Did I spend the first 150 days of the year well? Or did the days just pass? I wonder.


In the beginning of the year, I embarked on a personal project.  Amid the usual day to day tasks required of me, I challenged myself to do something I have long wanted to do… Something for, basically, myself. And no, it’s not a fitness challenge… and I’m not 5 lbs lighter or anything like that. This project has something to do with one of my first loves– writing.

Like what I said in one of my essays, when God puts a seed of a dream in your heart, He also gives you the tools to help you make it grow.  He will give you the inspiration, He will connect you to the right people — people who can help you fulfill your dream, and I believe He will also give you the courage and the strength to finish what you have started, despite the fear, the insecurities and all the uncertainties you have in your head.

And then there’s time. Time to work, time to pray… and time to wait.

This — where I am right now — is waiting time.

It can get so tiring to wait. I get impatient. I get antsy. I get all the more insecure.   But then I hear this Bible verse in my head telling me to just Be still...and to know Who my God is. 

My God who provides the seeds of my dreams.  My God who connects me with people.  My God where I derive my strength from… Who tells me to just press on.


It’s the first of June.  This morning after running my usual errands, I passed by my favorite coffee shop for a few minutes of alone time.

I looked back at the past 5 months. I thought about the progress of my personal project.  I drank my favorite drink. I said a little prayer.

I thanked God for the days, months that have passed, the provisions and the favors, and I thanked Him in advance for the bountiful blessings to come.

I also thanked Him for the Now.


Of course, I had to do this before leaving the coffee place…

June 1

But first, let me take a selfie…

the view

view from my favorite seat / work place

photo 2

June 1 breakfast

All’s well. 🙂


…being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion…” – Philippians 1:6

The Saturday that was

heat glamour


Saturday afternoon

So here I am, at 2:00 in the afternoon, standing in the middle of a field, basking under the summer sun… watching a baseball game.

It was a hot day. Scorching hot.  The ground was dry. So very dry. Whenever the wind blows, dust was sure to go with it.

I could feel the dust on my face, covering the layers of sunblock that I put several hours before.

I looked at my feet.  My black sandals have already turned brown.  I could feel my feet burning. Why-oh-why didn’t I wear rubber shoes instead??

“Why am I  here??”  I asked myself for the umpteenth time. 

I have been on the field since 8 o’clock this morning. This is already the fourth baseball game that I have watched and cheered for today.

The team is losing.  It’s losing pretty badly.

Three teams. Four games.  Three losses so far.  It has been a tough, not to mention, extremely hot day.  And my teams are losing.

My son isn’t even playing with any of the teams.  So, why am I even here???




Truth be told, I miss watching my son play baseball.  

Baseball has been his sport since he was 8 years old. He used to play golf before that, but the moment my husband introduced him to the sport of baseball — the moment he realized that he would gain more friends there, he kissed his (expensive) golf clubs, as well as his Jungolf championship dreams, goodbye.  There was no turning back.

And so for about 7 years, our weekends were filled with baseball games.  He has joined local tournaments, he has played in Asia Pacific Championships here and abroad, he has played with and against some of the very best youth baseball players from all over the region.

I have watched and cheered under the scorching heat, as well as in the pouring rain. I have experienced with him and his teammates the joys of victory, as well as the pain and disappointment that come with losing. I have gained new friends… I have made a number of enemies, too.   

Baseball is filled with moments, both good and bad. 

When my son decided to “semi-retire” from the sport… When he decided to pursue other interests (like singing, performing and yes, studying some more)… well, baseball pretty much took a back seat. 

I was in a way thankful that he decided to pursue other things. I mean, I do loathe staying under the sun for a long time.  And waking up at such ungodly hours to watch early morning games can sometimes drive one nuts — especially on a Sunday when you’d rather sleep in until noon. 

But honestly, I do miss watching him play.  I miss the thrill. I miss the excitement. Though some games can be very stressful, well, I sometimes miss the stress, too! (Sometimes I cheer like a maniac that my husband gives me dagger looks.)

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine myself being so involved in a sport. For some reason, baseball got to me. 

The universe has a sense of humor.


Last Saturday, three teams from our baseball club competed in a tournament. Three sets of players from three different divisions. The boys whom I watched training all summer long were given the chance to play against other teams.

Nope, they didn’t win all the games. In fact, they lost quite a number of times. Not one of the three teams brought home a medal nor a trophy.  The old me would have been disheartened and heartbroken.  No one likes losing.  

But after being a witness to all those games that my son has played… I have come to realize and accept that the players learn from both winning and losing.  

Losing isn’t always bad. Sometimes you have to lose so you’ll know what needs to be worked on. Sometimes you lose not because you are not good, but maybe because the other team prepared as hard as you did — or even harder.

But when you lose, lose with grace. Unfortunately, this is something that a lot of people, especially the adults, forget. 

Besides, baseball is a game of moments.  Each player somewhere, somehow gets to experience a moment… a moment that is his to learn from, his to remember and to savor. His moment on the field.

A winning catch. A double play. A home run. A successful slide. An almost impossible tag. One defining moment.  

These moments make the long hours under the sun worthwhile.

I was but a mere spectator that Saturday, yet I am glad I stayed and watched. Dust powdered face and all. 🙂


Pitcher-Catcher moment


photo credits: summer heat photos via google images ; Pitcher-Catcher moment photo from my ever reliable SLR (Taken in 2014 at the PONY Asia Pacific Tournament, Pony Division) 

Harvest time

full grown

Every good thing takes time.

When God plants a seed of a dream in our hearts, I believe He also gives us the tools that we will need to see that dream grow and come to fruition.

  • God gives us the talent. Talent is innate.  Because each individual is different, we each attach our identity — or own mark — to the talent given to us.  Our talents are uniquely ours.
  • God gives us passion. There’s a fire inside of us that burns.  A fire that drives us to do the things we dream of doing.  Sometimes we don’t feel it right away, but a simple spark can ignite that passion.  There is a stirring in our hearts that is just waiting to be ignited.
  • People.  In the process of fulfilling your dream, you will realize that you are given the right people who can and will help you in your journey.  People you never knew nor heard of before suddenly appear in your life, ready to help you realize your dream. There is no other term for this but divine connections.
  • Time Planting comes before harvest. Sowing comes before reaping. And in between is Time.   Time to toil, time to labor and learn.  Time to rest. Time to wait.  Waiting is the difficult part, and yet we have to wait. We respect the waiting time because for a fruit to grow to its fullness and its best state, it should never be rushed.

Some dreams take longer to fulfill than others. But be patient.  Wait for God’s perfect time. Because as we wait, we also grow. We nurture our own selves as we nurture our dream.

When the time is right, that dream which was but a seed planted in our hearts will turn into reality. It’s harvest time.

Throughout the whole process, we give thanks. 🙂


image via google




long line

there’s forever…

1. the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.

I have always thought of myself as a patient person.  

Long line? I can wait without fidgeting. Call on hold? I will even hum along with tune playing.  Waiting for a health report? I just pray. Giving instructions to someone who just cannot follow?  I try to keep it simple and I speak slowly to give the other person the chance to process what I am saying. Listening to someone share a story that was told and I have heard a hundred times? I still listen, I nod and I try to show interest. I don’t yawn. I don’t show boredom. 

See? I am patient. Forbearance is my middle name.

But then there are days… Days when my patience is tested — when it is just so tempting to lash out, then use the “Sorry, I’m only human” reasoning/cop out after.

Days like yesterday.

I started the day waiting for a document that I needed, something that was supposed to be given to me last Friday.  Person concerned did not give said document last Friday, promised to send it by email over the weekend.  Come Monday, I still didn’t have it.  
It took a great deal of self control on my part not to tell the person off.  I tried to be patient.   
Got the document at 4:30pm.
My son came home from school not feeling too well, complaining of pain in the lower abdomen, so I brought him to a clinic for consult with the pediatrician.
Everything went smoothly.  The doctor was there, we were next in line.  The consult was thorough but brief.  We were done in less than half an hour.
The doctor however suggested that my son have an xray of the abdomen, just to be sure.  He can have it done in the same clinic, so it wasn’t really a hassle or anything.  And we saw that there was no queue outside the xray room so we thought we would finish fast.
I told my son to proceed to xray and give the technician his doctor’s request, while I go to the cashier to settle the bill.  Instead of going to xray, my son stayed with me for two seconds to clarify what he was supposed to do and what to tell the technician.
Two seconds.  In those two seconds, another person appeared from nowhere and knocked at the door to the xray room, handed the technician her doctor’s request. 
Two seconds and thirty minutes later, my son and I were still at the hallway outside the xray room, waiting for his name to be called. Waiting for his turn.  That one patient before him just took too long. 
My son and I just entertained each other while waiting by telling each other stories.  But inside, I was like, “Really?! Forty minutes for an xray??!”
When we finally — FINALLY — finished at the clinic, I had to go to the pharmacy to get my son’s meds.  
There was a queue.  The number being served was #26… my number was 35. 
After about 5 minutes, I checked the number being served… Great, still at #26.  Somebody must be buying half the pharmacy. 
I was getting fidgety but still I tried to keep my cool.  I sent my son (who opted to stay in the car) a text message: #forever. 
The next numbers got called eventually.  I saw an old schoolmate come in and got a number.  Hers was #43… when we both looked at the counter, the number being served was #33.  I gave a sympathetic shrug.  Join the club, sister…
We just ended up chatting.
Things don’t always go as we planned.  There are situations we cannot control, people who are not always reliable.  There are trying moments.  Patience truly is a virtue. 
But when we don’t give in to that urge of lashing out, or allowing our emotions to get out of control, I believe we will be better off in the long run.  
I won’t say, though, that I was not on the verge of a tantrum yesterday, because I seriously was.  But then, exhibiting patience is more mature.  
And so, I decided to take the high road. #chooseyourbattles
photo via google images
Patience definition from google