Since childhood, I had been the type to hide my real emotions. Call it a defense mechanism, but I've programmed myself to respond apathetically to things that would normally reduce us to a pile of jittery nerves. In fact, I have received many a compliment on being cool in the face of tremendous pressure.
I was probably a bit more upset with the changes than I have let on. I'm guessing my Divine Writer played a little trick on me to force me to face my issues. He uprooted me and took me away from all the things and people I had clung to for security. He left me all by myself. He literally put me in front of four white walls, and made me listen to my heart.
I was shaken. But I never resented Him for it. In fact, I woke up this morning feeling better.
He was wise enough to rouse me awake, to leave me alone to confront my fears, yet He threw in a lifeline or two. I was able to talk to my husband. And strangely, He showed me that one of the people whom I thought could never be a real friend offered her support.
He really moves in mysterious ways. I have been purged of many of my uncertainties and now have a fresher outlook. I was taught to trust completely and nothing can ever go wrong.
He just gave me my first speaking line on my Script: Let go and let God.
And what a beautiful line it is!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Forging On
I noticed that I have become increasingly fatalistic as days pass.
People close to me know that I am not exactly religious. Quite an irony, especially since I was educated for most of my life in a Catholic school, and that my father's side of the family tree had their share of nuns and priests. Be that as it may, it doesn't mean that I am a non-believer. I think that I am in touch with my spiritual side, and I do treasure my personal relationship with my Divine Writer.
A lot of changes are happening on the family front. Things happened at a dizzying speed. We were totally unprepared, but strangely, the events seem to fall into place with precision. I am a firm believer that things are preordained, and this is no exception.
From my end, I face a lot of uncertainties. I have a lot of fears. I try my best to follow what I feel is the path my Divine Writer scripted out for me, but I am human enough to admit that I do feel lost sometimes. I do not understand some of the things that are happening now. I know, however, that I just have to keep my faith and trust that all things will be for the best.
After all, we were all promised that His plans were made to prosper us and never to harm us.
And so life goes on...
People close to me know that I am not exactly religious. Quite an irony, especially since I was educated for most of my life in a Catholic school, and that my father's side of the family tree had their share of nuns and priests. Be that as it may, it doesn't mean that I am a non-believer. I think that I am in touch with my spiritual side, and I do treasure my personal relationship with my Divine Writer.
A lot of changes are happening on the family front. Things happened at a dizzying speed. We were totally unprepared, but strangely, the events seem to fall into place with precision. I am a firm believer that things are preordained, and this is no exception.
From my end, I face a lot of uncertainties. I have a lot of fears. I try my best to follow what I feel is the path my Divine Writer scripted out for me, but I am human enough to admit that I do feel lost sometimes. I do not understand some of the things that are happening now. I know, however, that I just have to keep my faith and trust that all things will be for the best.
After all, we were all promised that His plans were made to prosper us and never to harm us.
And so life goes on...
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Coming Home
Tonight, my husband returns from a week-long business trip to Amsterdam. It will be his first time to be home after two long months.
Yes, you read that right. The business trip is just for one week. And he hasn't been home in two months.
Confusing? Okay, I'll explain.
My husband is an expat. He was recently hired by a Singapore employer to join them as a Demo Artist. The weird thing about that is he never applied for the job, nor did we ever plan to relocate to another country. The details would need a separate blog entry to be able to do justice to the beauty of the story, but that's the gist, more or less.
He found himself shuttling back and forth between Manila and Singapore since March this year, for interviews, exhibits, more interviews, and finally the employment confirmation. By the end of July, he found himself in the Lion City, quite alone.
It was a blessing that he was occupied with a number of out-of-the-country trips during his first month. Barely two weeks after he arrived, he and his team went to Malaysia for some training. A week after that, he found himself in Mumbai, India for still more training.
I would keep close tabs on him the entire time he was away -- especially if he was outside Singapore. We probably spent a small fortune on call cards, considering that he wasn't always online. He complained at one point that the return trips always felt empty. He knew he was supposed to be "coming home"...but to what? A foreign land. A hotel room, maybe. Or a flat shared with people he didn't know from Adam.
The places he stayed in held an almost clinical quality about them. It was a halfway house. It was somewhere he could put his things in while he was at work. It was a place where he could catch a few zzzz's, but ironically, would not make him feel refreshed or recharged at all.
The last week of August found me on a Singapore-bound plane. I finally gave in to my husband's increasingly urgent requests to be with him. He said that he found a flat for our family, at last, after weeks of poring over the internet and countless viewing schedules. But he would need my domestic engineering abilities to make it more liveable.
And so I went.
A few days ago, we were chatting online...I, in Singapore, and he, in Amsterdam. He said that this was the first time he felt excited about his return trip. Now, he felt certain that he is, indeed, coming home.
Interestingly enough, I found a beautiful caption in one of my Facebook friend's profiles. He went with his wife to Amsterdam on a pleasure trip, and in one of their photos in that faraway place, he said: "Travel with your soulmate and you'll never miss home."
To a certain degree, that's true. However, if he may allow, I will paraphrase his statement to fit my situation: "Be with your soulmate, and you will ALWAYS be home."
Welcome home, honey.
Yes, you read that right. The business trip is just for one week. And he hasn't been home in two months.
Confusing? Okay, I'll explain.
My husband is an expat. He was recently hired by a Singapore employer to join them as a Demo Artist. The weird thing about that is he never applied for the job, nor did we ever plan to relocate to another country. The details would need a separate blog entry to be able to do justice to the beauty of the story, but that's the gist, more or less.
He found himself shuttling back and forth between Manila and Singapore since March this year, for interviews, exhibits, more interviews, and finally the employment confirmation. By the end of July, he found himself in the Lion City, quite alone.
It was a blessing that he was occupied with a number of out-of-the-country trips during his first month. Barely two weeks after he arrived, he and his team went to Malaysia for some training. A week after that, he found himself in Mumbai, India for still more training.
I would keep close tabs on him the entire time he was away -- especially if he was outside Singapore. We probably spent a small fortune on call cards, considering that he wasn't always online. He complained at one point that the return trips always felt empty. He knew he was supposed to be "coming home"...but to what? A foreign land. A hotel room, maybe. Or a flat shared with people he didn't know from Adam.
The places he stayed in held an almost clinical quality about them. It was a halfway house. It was somewhere he could put his things in while he was at work. It was a place where he could catch a few zzzz's, but ironically, would not make him feel refreshed or recharged at all.
The last week of August found me on a Singapore-bound plane. I finally gave in to my husband's increasingly urgent requests to be with him. He said that he found a flat for our family, at last, after weeks of poring over the internet and countless viewing schedules. But he would need my domestic engineering abilities to make it more liveable.
And so I went.
A few days ago, we were chatting online...I, in Singapore, and he, in Amsterdam. He said that this was the first time he felt excited about his return trip. Now, he felt certain that he is, indeed, coming home.
Interestingly enough, I found a beautiful caption in one of my Facebook friend's profiles. He went with his wife to Amsterdam on a pleasure trip, and in one of their photos in that faraway place, he said: "Travel with your soulmate and you'll never miss home."
To a certain degree, that's true. However, if he may allow, I will paraphrase his statement to fit my situation: "Be with your soulmate, and you will ALWAYS be home."
Welcome home, honey.
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