Born to Die

Two people were walking in the middle of the night, on their way to town. One of them was a man pulling a jackass on which a woman, his wife, was riding on. It was a cold night, and the woman was heavy with a baby. They have been walking for days and are in need of a place to stay for the evening.

They knocked at every door, only to be greeted with “no vacancy” signs. Weary and a bit nervous, for his wife might give birth any minute now, he knocked again at a door. Like the previous ones, the inn was occupied, but the keeper was kind enough to offer them the stable where the animals were kept. Beggars can’t be choosers, so they accepted it.

The woman gave birth there, a healthy boy, and wrapped the babe in strips of cloth and placed him on the manger, hay cushioning the delicate body.

Angels sang in the horizon about the birth of the Savior, Lord and Messiah, and called on shepherds to visit the new born baby that’s lying in a stable. Scholars from Far East were given advanced news and, by the guidance of a bright star, were on their way to see the newborn.

All honored him and brought him gifts fit for a king (for that’s who he is). The man and his wife’s hearts are overflowing with joy. The shepherds spread the word to everyone about the baby and all were astonished. The mother treasured this and pondered over them.

She has no idea what the message would mean to her, and especially to her son.

But even before she got to that, an angel warned them of a looming threat on the babe, and told them to escape faraway to Egypt, until the danger has passed. That peril was an order by the King to kill all young boys, threatened that a young child would take over his throne.

Blood was shed that time, but the newborn babe in the manger was spared. It was not yet his time.

The baby was presented to the temple, and wise words were said about him, to the astonishment of his parents. They lived a quiet life in his mother’s hometown, helping his father with his craft (for he is a carpenter).

After years of living like one of the people, he went out to different places and started preaching about love and salvation and a new kingdom. People were enamored by his presence and authority. But some felt threatened. As the priest Simeon told of him when he was presented at the temple “… he will be for [the multitudes] their rise or fall, a sign of contradiction. [He will] bring to light the secret thoughts of all.”

And so he was captured, tortured and hung on two pieces of wooden planks. The King, whom “all were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem” was treated like a low-life criminal. Funny thing about the whole thing was that he did not inasmuch threw a pebble on an unwitting donkey to deserve such punishment.

In the same way that he entered the world, he left it swaddled in strips of cloth.

Like a lamb… brought to slaughter, he did not open his mouth. - Isaiah 53:7

===

And so the child who was born that cold fateful night was born so that he may die.

Our sins he borne on his shoulders, so that the punishment we truly deserve will be transferred to him. Why? Because he loves us so much he doesn’t want us to suffer the same fate he underwent. By his death we were given everlasting life.

It is the best Christmas gift we can ever have, and all we need to do is accept it. And since He is the only way to gaining that eternal life, so must we accept him, JESUS, as our only Savior, Lord and Messiah.

May everyone have a blessed and wonderful Christmas!

Reaching Out

It was a humid afternoon; the sun was starting to set. People are gathering quickly in the venue - a large rectangle open area, sandy for it is not concretized. The place is so dry that a handful of trees, mostly palms, are there. Patches of brown-green grass cover the ground. In front is an old adobe structure. Miniature dust tornadoes appear every now and then.

The crowd is made up mostly of children. They're sweaty and dirty, prolly due to playing all day under the sun. They seem not to mind the heat, for they were all smiles as they see us approach (‘dust angels’ as my companion described them). I was with a female companion, both in awe with the number of people gathered in the venue. I was thinking out loud about where the parents of these children are, and a kid shouted "They're in the farm!" My heart sank for these kids, but their smiles made it light again. I smiled at them, played with them for a while, and they told me that they are excited for what will happen later. Their enthusiasm got me excited, too.

We entered the adobe structure, walking along the old corridors that seem to have seen a number too many incidents that led to the present situation of the location where we were in. People, dressed the same way as the children, are everywhere. As I walk to my destination, I met an old friend (my companion disappeared). The last time I saw her was in sixth grade, and even though she was one of my closest buddies when we were still younger, competition in school drew us apart. She lives across my grandparents' house, and yet I don't get to see her whenever I visit there.

We were both surprised to see each other there. I was dumbfounded for a few minutes, then I asked her how she was, and what was she doing there, of all places. She smiled, said she was ok, then suddenly cried. She seemed to be carrying this huge burden all these years and it was just then that she got to tell it. I listen to her until she was ok, and assured her everything is going to be ok. She smiled, and we parted ways. Told her I have a meeting to go to.

I arrived at the venue, people still crowding the area. I saw another companion, told me to rush for the meeting has already started. Before I entered, the girl at the door asked me to get a Bible. There were different versions on the rack; I took one and entered the room. It was an air-conditioned room. I went inside, and saw familiar faces. I sat on the only space available, on the floor, beside him. And the meeting began. Our leader was teaching something that’s related to what we are about to do, related to the gathering outside. He read a verse from his Bible; his version is the same as mine. He then asked for someone with another version to read the same verse. He happened to have another version and read out loud. He saw that I have a different book so he shared his Bible with me. I read. I can’t see the letters that well, for it was so small that I moved closer to him. Since I was smaller than him, my head was resting on his shoulder while I was reading. He then leaned his head on mine, while we read and listened to our leader. I was surprised with that move, but I’ve gotten comfy with it right away – and so did he. The people around us didn’t seem to mind us. And we remained that way until the end of the meeting. Then we stood up. He helped me up, smiled at me and said

“It’s show time.”

Our leader opened two big oak doors, bright lights shone on our faces, for it was already dark outside, and we went out on stage, welcomed by wild cheers from the crowd.

* The following was a dream I had last night. The scenes were so vivid that I was compelled to write it down, so that I won’t forget it.

Random Ramblings

It has been eons ago since I last updated my blog (and the "eon" bit was partially a pun) :p

For those who didn't know YET, I have a new job (a 3-month old new job), in a stakeholder relations firm (to know what the heck that means, visit our site). Yes, I have crossed the fence, from publishing to public relations.

It has been a rollercoaster ride, I must say. It's stressful, fun, and very educational. And though I have received the culture shock of my 22-year existence, I am grateful for everything that happened. Heck, I can even say I'm happy, for "there is nothing better than for man to rejoice in his work; for this is his lot" (Eccl 3:22) I still believe that I was placed here for a purpose, a purpose that is yet to be revealed.

But heck, I have a nine-to-six work hour, wherein I arrive at the office before nine and leave way past after six. No, I am not yet a candidate for W.A. (Workaholics Anonymous) but give or take a few more years I might just be. (I am TOTALLY kidding.)

This new work is humbling, for most part. Humbling for it made me realize how much I do not know. It also made me realize a new level of submission to authority. It also took me out of my comfort zone (literally and figuratively). I never realized how 'pampered' I was back in the magazine, how relaxed the atmosphere was, until I got in the firm. Though those two industries don't differ much, it's the culture that's worlds apart.

In moments of weakness I tend to long for the past, thinking how good things WERE when I should be looking forward and moving on.

I also miss the routine I've had when I still living within Quezon City. It was a perfect triangle: home, office, ECR. But the habit was broken, and now I (or rather, the Lord) is dealing with my schedule.

I miss my friends. I actually miss having two jeepney rides, getting off in front of St. Luke’s, riding the trike to the gate of Rolling Hills Village and walking the dark roads to #51 10th St. every Mondays and Tuesdays, and first Wednesdays monthly. I miss hanging out with my KG sisters and my friends in community, the worship, the teachings, the laughter and the silly times after TR, hanging out by Lucille’s quaint stall, walking from ECR to the village gate.

And all the Lord has been telling me is wait… and wait in silence (am I such a loudmouth?! :p)

He’s also telling me something else, which my puny human mind can’t quite comprehend yet. It’s big, I’m quite afraid of it, should my hunch be true. I am asking for prayers: for clarity of mind, for wisdom and understanding.

Meanwhile…

Just do what I’m supposed to do. Continue with the race (or is it a fight?). Whichever it is, I am confident that I am not alone in it.

Oh yeah, I know how Joel Houston looks when he’s NOT looking like a yagit na magsasaka: really H-O-T-T *wink wink*