"You've been working so hard all these years. My sister said that rest is good and rest is godly. Take hold of it. Go and don't worry about what you leave behind. The Lord is able to take care of that." These were the words I whispered to the ears of a devoted single mom and dear friend the night she went home to the Lord.
As I walked down to the parking lot of the hospital, I knew that it would not be long. Tears fell from my eyes as I realized that I had began to miss her already. I earnestly prayed that just as she had been given the grace to live a full life, I knew even if I witnessed her fierce battle with cancer, how she withstood the pain, and even if she continued to struggle with every breath as if wanting to stay longer, that somehow, she would be given the grace to go home.
It was my first time to come alongside a friend who was suffering physically. I was so hesitant, not knowing if I could really be there for her. But as I prayed for her, the Lord put a burden in my heart to call her and visit her and just to confirm that, I would receive a text message from her requesting to see me. And knowing her, she would rarely ask. There were times I felt so helpless, so inadequate to encourage her and give her strength. There were times I wish I was just not there. But there were times I drew inspiration from her. How she faced her situation with courage, drawing spiritual food from inspirational music and Scripture. (That was her way of life. She did not only draw near to the Lord because she was sick but she had made Him her priority long before that.) Her body was weak but her Spirit was strong standing on every promise of our Lord. There was no trace of bitterness in her. No complaint whatsover. None at all.
As her situation worsened, more and more I realized how this body we have is but a shell, a container that we leave behind. What mattered was the inner person. How she remained a blessing despite her illness! She even sang to me a truth that I needed to hear myself, "His Strength is perfect, but ours is not." What a testimony! How His power was indeed made perfect in her weakness.
Though I will miss her, I know she is radiant now. Victorious and free. Yes, she is totally free of cancer, delivered from it's pain and sorrow. If I could only see her now, what a prize that would be! With a glorious crown on her head, and that familiar excited grin on her face as she takes hold of eternal rest. Her once dehydrated legs that I affectionately applied lotion to would be deliciously tanned, skipping and dancing on the streets of gold! Loved, overwhelmingly loved is what she would be feeling and not a second would go by that she would not know that.
For a time, I had hoped that we could still share answers to her deepest longings and prayers, but I knew very well that all her longings are fulfilled in Christ, her Savior. Her Greatest Lover, who has undoubtedly received her with a trimphant embrace. Mission accomplished. As a friend said and I agree, "She is Heaven's gain!"
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Crash Course on Housekeeping
My househelp of 4 years left last July 14. So it has been two months since and I am still without one. With four kids, one in a regular school and three home-schooled, it has been a very challenging time for me. But I saw how this seemingly inconvenient arrangement was ordained. Soon after my helper left, I was invited to attend a whole day Housekeeping Seminar for free!!
The speaker succeeded in making me feel excited about the new responsibility that I had to take. How much creativity and practical wisdom are involved in running a household!
Then, as if on cue, I got a text message from a dear relative that she was giving me a whole year subscription to Good Housekeeping as a late birthday gift : ) Despite the disheartening observation of my 6 year old, (" We need to find a new "yaya" (helper), mom. You are crabby without one.") I developed a courage to hurdle this inconvenient time. Having sensed that a "yaya" was not coming as soon as we would all like, my daughter began to pray. "Lord, please make Mom smile when she is in the kitchen and bless us but bless Mom two times more!!"
One special morning, as I struggled between the dishes and home schooling, I decided to teach my children a song. I had not intended to, but having decided to just set housework aside, I opened my mouth not knowing what I was going to sing...and out came, "Make me a servant, humble and meek. Lord, let me lift up those who are weak. and may the prayer of my life always be. Make me a servant, make me a servant, make me a servant today." I had not begun the second line when I felt my tears roll down my cheeks. That song was ministering to me. The Lord was teaching me servanthood and this time I was serving, not the little Sunday Schoolers but rather, my own children.
It has been physically taxing. How my former "yaya" had done it, I really cannot comprehend. I have repented over the reality that I, at times, expected too much of her and appreciated so little. I gained a new attitude towards them who really served with all their strength.
I even met a foreign visitor, a dear friend of my brother who pulled me aside during a family dinner asking me to explain further these "invisible hands", members of the household who cook the food, prepare and clean up but do not join us when we eat. He asked bluntly, "Your family is very religious. How do you reconcile this kind of set up?" I have no idea why it was I he pulled aside but I felt, probably the Lord had a message for me in our conversation.
He and his wife were concerned about the training of the children. They train them to bring their plates to the kitchen and clean up after. So how do we get to train our own kids? I felt it was an affirmation of the training my own children were getting since there were no invisible hands to rely on! The foreign couple expressed concern that the children may have a harder time when they are older.
I shared with him how "having yayas" has been part of our culture. How they serve us and in return we employ them. Having visited Smokey Mountain, this foreign friend agreed that being a "yaya" would seem like a promotion for the poor Filipinos being given an opportunity to live in a better environment and earn as well. He just finds it odd cause in their country, the one who cooks joins them at the table. I confessed to him that my attitude towards house helpers has evolved. From seeing them as strangers to treating them as people with dreams, feelings, hang ups, etc. From seeing them as subservient to my agenda to treating them as people with limitations and with thier own life purposes as well.
I found myself seeking the audience of my parent's 24 year old househelp, cook and butler. I appreciated him for his untiring devotion and apologized for the instances in the past, growing up as a teen-ager and a young adult that I surely may have offended him by my actions or words or taken his role for granted and failed to acknowledge the support he has selflessly given. Indeed, after this no-maid episode, I am not the same person I used to be. And as an appropriate closing to seal this experience, I was invited to speak to about 200 "yayas" and to them I was able to share. It was a golden opportunity to affirm their role as important and vital, and it was not surprising that I did it in a rather convincing way.
I am still hoping I get help soon. In the meantime, I know we will benefit from the inspiration of He who came not to be served but to serve.
The speaker succeeded in making me feel excited about the new responsibility that I had to take. How much creativity and practical wisdom are involved in running a household!
Then, as if on cue, I got a text message from a dear relative that she was giving me a whole year subscription to Good Housekeeping as a late birthday gift : ) Despite the disheartening observation of my 6 year old, (" We need to find a new "yaya" (helper), mom. You are crabby without one.") I developed a courage to hurdle this inconvenient time. Having sensed that a "yaya" was not coming as soon as we would all like, my daughter began to pray. "Lord, please make Mom smile when she is in the kitchen and bless us but bless Mom two times more!!"
One special morning, as I struggled between the dishes and home schooling, I decided to teach my children a song. I had not intended to, but having decided to just set housework aside, I opened my mouth not knowing what I was going to sing...and out came, "Make me a servant, humble and meek. Lord, let me lift up those who are weak. and may the prayer of my life always be. Make me a servant, make me a servant, make me a servant today." I had not begun the second line when I felt my tears roll down my cheeks. That song was ministering to me. The Lord was teaching me servanthood and this time I was serving, not the little Sunday Schoolers but rather, my own children.
It has been physically taxing. How my former "yaya" had done it, I really cannot comprehend. I have repented over the reality that I, at times, expected too much of her and appreciated so little. I gained a new attitude towards them who really served with all their strength.
I even met a foreign visitor, a dear friend of my brother who pulled me aside during a family dinner asking me to explain further these "invisible hands", members of the household who cook the food, prepare and clean up but do not join us when we eat. He asked bluntly, "Your family is very religious. How do you reconcile this kind of set up?" I have no idea why it was I he pulled aside but I felt, probably the Lord had a message for me in our conversation.
He and his wife were concerned about the training of the children. They train them to bring their plates to the kitchen and clean up after. So how do we get to train our own kids? I felt it was an affirmation of the training my own children were getting since there were no invisible hands to rely on! The foreign couple expressed concern that the children may have a harder time when they are older.
I shared with him how "having yayas" has been part of our culture. How they serve us and in return we employ them. Having visited Smokey Mountain, this foreign friend agreed that being a "yaya" would seem like a promotion for the poor Filipinos being given an opportunity to live in a better environment and earn as well. He just finds it odd cause in their country, the one who cooks joins them at the table. I confessed to him that my attitude towards house helpers has evolved. From seeing them as strangers to treating them as people with dreams, feelings, hang ups, etc. From seeing them as subservient to my agenda to treating them as people with limitations and with thier own life purposes as well.
I found myself seeking the audience of my parent's 24 year old househelp, cook and butler. I appreciated him for his untiring devotion and apologized for the instances in the past, growing up as a teen-ager and a young adult that I surely may have offended him by my actions or words or taken his role for granted and failed to acknowledge the support he has selflessly given. Indeed, after this no-maid episode, I am not the same person I used to be. And as an appropriate closing to seal this experience, I was invited to speak to about 200 "yayas" and to them I was able to share. It was a golden opportunity to affirm their role as important and vital, and it was not surprising that I did it in a rather convincing way.
I am still hoping I get help soon. In the meantime, I know we will benefit from the inspiration of He who came not to be served but to serve.
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