Frustrated Mom

The past three days have been excruciatingly painful and difficult for me as a mother. It’s because I failed again.

My son, Lian Ed, has been trying my patience in almost every way daily. I don’t want to assume that he is doing it on purpose, but my adult suspicious mind prompts me to think it such. The latest incident was that he punched his sister in the rib cage area, a cause of alarm for me. I have seen him frustrated, even angry at his little sister for meddling with his toys and interrupting his games. But this was the first time that he lost his control and physically hurt her.

I got scared at this act of violence. Does my son have anger problems? Definitely he has temper issues, and yes, he got it from me. But does the recent incident call for an intervention? If so, what kind? The most I could do was to write this verse on a piece of paper: Always be gentle with others (Philippians 4:5). Then, I asked him to memorize the passage this week. I am just hoping that the Word of God will take root in his heart.

Himig, my little girl, has officially entered the trying three’s stage. At three years old she is extremely curious about everything. The endless “Why Mama?” has begun. Her naughty streak surfaces once in a while, annoying her big brother and ultimately, me.

Everyday, as soon as they both wake up, I hear crying and wailing and whining and complaining. I tried my best to talk to them both and explain why fighting isn’t good, that they should love each other.

Finally, I lost my cool and for the past three days I snap at the littlest thing. I’ve screamed at the kids to stop fighting. I ignored their calls. I was just ready to break down.

Now I am at my husband’s office typing this, feeling guilty that I took flight to escape my kids. I know that my reactions to my children will have far reaching effects on them. I know that one day when they’re old enough to piece things together they would be able to say I was not patient or loving enough. I know that like me when I was a teenager, they will have their own angst-ridden advocacies against their mother! Oh what’s a frustrated mom like me going to do?

Blessing and Shame

"It was a good ten-minute walk (I walked from Kalayaan corner V. Luna to the office on my way back from Meralco). I realized that perhaps God is teaching me to sing from my heart, 'Lord, You are more precious than silver; Lord, You are more costly than gold. More beautiful than diamonds; And nothing I desire compares to you.' I started to pray for Lian Ed's milk, "Lord, please provide for my baby's milk. He has nothing for tonight." Then Habakkuk 3:17-18 came to mind:

Though the fig tree should not blossom

And there be no fruit in the vines,

Though the yield of the olive should fail

And the fields produce no food,

Though the flock should be cut off from the fold

And there be no cattle in the stalls,

Yet I will exult in the Lord,

I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.

God is taking me at HIS Word! I felt Him enabling me to sincerely declare these words and claim it to be true in my life. It is not the easiest to do. Trusting the money I can count seems easier than putting my faith in an unseen Provider. But I felt God's Spirit quickening mine. It is possible to rejoice in the midst of scarcity. It is possible to be at peace in the midst of poverty. And to be ashamed of the way He chooses to provide is acutally pride and ungratefulness. It is possible to trust the God of the impossible."

Later that day, an officemate came to my cubicle and handed me a grocery bag. In it was a big can of milk. She said, “Please give this to my inaanak (godson). I realize I have not been a good ninang, having missed his birthday, I want to make up by giving this as a gift.” Tears fell from my eyes. My officemate had no idea what I was going through. I simply said, “Thank you. Thank God for you.”

(This piece was written in 2004.)

"Mama, is this good for me?"

Lian Ed, my five-year old son, caught me by surprise, when, while I was supervising him take a shower before going to school, he asked, “Mama, is this good for me?” He was referring to the shampoo/body wash that I told him to use.

Our family resolved to start going natural (and organic) as part of being intentional in caring for our environment. Since our “Aha!” moment last year (remember our newsletter that talked about becoming planet savers and not planet destroyers?) regarding the alarming rate of nature’s destruction, we decided to take our role in ecological stewardship seriously. I put together menus that were using more natural ingredients (no more mixes, instant noodles, microwavable food and artificial flavorings) and opted for home-cooked meals than fastfood value meals. Mang’s cousin introduced me to a health drink made of natural ingredients that addressed a lot of our health concerns, from the kids’ asthma and allergies, to Mang’s knee pain (possibly arthritic), to my vertigo. Even our choice of rice went from the milled white one to the organic brown kind. I found a product line of organic beauty and personal care products (like shampoo and body wash for adults and kids) as well as household cleaning items (like detergent, fabric conditioner and dish washing soap) which were very affordable.

I signed up as a dealer of these products only to get discounts, unaware of its added values. At the end of the first month that I and my family had been intentionally eco-friendly, I realized that we were healthier. We also saved a lot on medical expenses. In Filipino, this is what we call pagtitipid sa tama (saving up the right way). Not only did we save money, we also helped others learn about good stewardship of our bodies and our environment. Some signed up as dealers under me, too, eventually giving me a new business opportunity!

Though I learned the ropes of the business as well as imbibed the value of going natural, there were days when I had slip ups. And this was one of those days. I ran out of stock of the kids’ shampoo/body wash and there was no time to order. I decided to use the chemical-based brand which was readily available. “Mama, is this good for me?” Lian Ed inquired. He learned the importance of using natural products, not just from me but also from his school. In simple ways, he understood that certain soaps, shampoos and toothpastes can make him and the earth sick.

“Mama, is this good for me?”

“You mean taking a shower? Of course it is!”

“No, I mean this shampoo.”

What should I say? Do I say a little amount of it wouldn’t hurt? After all, that’s what the leading brands in the market are indirectly telling us: a white lie! How about you? How would you respond?

The Blessing of a "No"

I wrote this piece when my son Lian Ed was 8 months old. That was about six years ago. I still find it true to this day.

The Blessing of a ‘No’

If your children ask for a fish, which of you would give them a snake instead? Or, if your children ask for an egg, would you give them a scorpion? Even though you are bad, you know how to give good things to your children. How much more your heavenly Father…” (Luke 11:11-13b)

Now that I am already a mother, I started to appreciate more when God withholds something from me. From a parent’s perspective I have learned the wisdom of God’s denials of some of my requests and when he answers my prayers other than the way I wanted them to be answered.

At eight months old, Lian Ed has learned to go for what he wants and even scream in an effort to get it. Hard as it is to say ‘No,’ there are just times that I simply must deny my son of what he wants. It’s cliché, but it’s a timeless truth that parents always know what’s best for their children. I know that to give in to Lian Ed whenever he wants to be carried would eventually make him think that everything revolves around him and that people can just drop whatever they are doing in order to obey his bidding. Of course, when he grows older, he will realize that in this world, people don’t always do what we want and we don’t always get what we want. If we don’t say ‘No’ to our son, he would just put in his mouth whatever he gets hold of and may actually poison himself in the process. When he gets older, the poisons of life will take the form of fame, fortune, illicit use of sex, substance abuse, arrogance, bitterness, anger, bad company and many other things. If at an early age, he doesn’t learn to stay away from what he shouldn’t bite, then when he’s an adult it will be harder for him not to swallow whatever poison the world offers to him, especially if it is nicely garnished. If we don’t use the paddle to help him understand at times then we are sure to spoil our child and not teach him in the way he should go.

I thank God for He is a parent. Indeed, we earthly parents can give to our children the best because we have received the best from our Heavenly Father.

True Love Weds

Catch my new book True Love Weds: When the Waiting is Over in book stores nearest you!

If Only I Could Touch Him

The day started like any other. The kids woke up just about the same time that my husband, Mang, and I did. I gave baby Himig her first feeding for the day and since she’s breastfed, I simply had to lie down breside her. I decided to linger a bit longer in bed when my four-year old, Lian Ed, greeted me with a smile followed by, “Good morning Mama. I’m hungry.” That was my signal to get up and start preparing breakfast.

In ten minutes, our small kitchen cum dining hall was busy. Ding! The toaster signaled that the bread was ready. The kettle whistled just as I finished putting instant coffee, sugar and creamer into the cups. I hurried to set the table. I poured more cereals into my clamoring son’s bowl while trying to pacify the baby who was crying to be picked up. Even before I had finished my pan de sal I got up to prepare Mang’s clothes for work.

Mang kissed the kids and me goodbye. Once again, I was left to tend to the kids and the house chores alone. In between feeding the baby and answering my pre-schooler’s endless questions, I tried to catch up with my writing backlog. It was one of those regular days for me but for some reason I knew it won’t stay ordinary for long. By mid-morning I was so exhausted. As soon as the kids were in bed for their afternoon nap, I fell on the bed side and broke into tears. “I can’t do this anymore! I’m so tired!” I sent Mang an SMS saying how frustrated and tired I am and he replied assuring me of his understanding and love. That didn’t seem enough to calm my restless heart. I found myself desperate for Jesus. I poured out my frustrations to Him knowing that only He could fully comprehend what I was experiencing.

That day I came across the story of the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years (Mark 25:24-34). She too was frustrated with her condition and didn’t feel that her day was a regular day for her. She was ill and was made worse by the misdiagnosis of the doctors. Worse, she had become an outcast in her hometown because her culture dictates that any woman who is menstruating (and menstruating endlessly like her) is defiled. She’s not allowed to mingle with the crowd, to talk with anyone or to dine with others even her own family! How desperate and lonely she must have felt.

One day Jesus came to her town. That drove this desperate woman to do the unimaginable. Braving the crowd, she pressed her way to be close to Jesus. If only I could touch the hem of His clothes, I would be healed. She didn’t even plan to introduce herself to the Teacher. She just has to touch the hem of his garment that’s all. No one would know. No one would notice. But Jesus did. He felt power come out of Him as soon as she touched His clothes. “Who touched me?” Jesus inquired. “With all these people, how can you ask that?” the disciples’ outraged reply. But Jesus was a personal Savior and Healer. He may be in the crowd but He can see the individual. He may be walking in the midst of a throng but He is concerned with the person. As soon as the woman identified herself, Jesus relieved her of her fear and embarrassment by listening to her story. She told Him the whole truth. “Daughter, your faith has healed you,” was Jesus’ compassionate words to her. For the first time in over a decade, someone actually listened to her. Once again, she was affiliated with someone. Someone called her “Daughter” and she’s once again part of a family, part of the society. Jesus’ words of love not only healed her body but soothed her hurting heart. Everyone who witnessed the miracle finally heard the true story. It wasn’t her fault that she was ill. She didn’t have any unconfessed sin nor was she a bad woman. She was simply stricken with disease and now she is healed. Her desperation compelled her to do the unimaginable and she pressed through the crowd. Her desperation made her reach out and touch somebody. Her desperation brought her to the place of connection with Jesus. It was an opportunity to be intimate with Christ and she was never the same. She came to Him desperate and she went away renewed.

That day, I realized that I needed to be connected anew to my Savior. If only I could reach out to Him and listen to His words of healing then I would be better. I was not mistaken. I only dared “touch the hem of His garment.” Because Jesus knew me all too well, He gave me a concrete measure of His love. Mang came home from the office early, listened to me, embraced me and prayed for me. I came away from the place of desperation comforted and refreshed.

The One Little Thing I Did for My Country

Dear God, thank you that I am a Filipino. Thank you that I can show my respect and love for my country with this privilege and right to vote. Thank you because whatever happens today, everything is under your sovereignty. Amen.

I whispered this prayer as I climbed the stairs to the third floor to find my precinct and cast my vote. I was still undecided as who to vote, though one presidential candidate’s name rang over and over in my head. Nothing was certain except the fact that only God holds the future. I knew then how crucial it was to trust that God will see the whole Filipino nation through this electoral process.

It has been a long journey to this day. There was much fear especially when the precinct count optical scanner (PCOS) machines started failing one after another during trials. Many predicted doom while others remained optimistic. Many feared the worst while many also hoped for the best. Many were apathetic while others remained passionate about their candidate of choice. Colors were all over the place. I think after this election, at least for a few years, yellow, green, blue, orange and red would always have their political connotation.

Regardless of what color we took to the polls, I believe that when all is said and done, the next best thing to do is to be true Filipinos. This means after we have fulfilled our duty to elect our leaders, we need to put our allegiance to our country. When the winners are proclaimed, losers should humbly accept it. When the new president, vice president, senators and local officials have been given their seat of leadership, we should “give to Caesar what is due him.” When the new government rolls, we should go with it regardless of who is in command. But above all, we should safeguard the legacy of those who have gone before us so that we may have something to bequeath to those coming after us: the legacy of a people with dignity, hope, courage, history, culture, faith. Our submission to the authorities does not mean turning a blind eye to unscrupulous individuals who use their government positions to amass wealth at the expense of millions who are starving. Our allegiance to our country means caring for one another for we are all Filipinos under one flag. At the end of the day, our loyalty should be to each other because we belong to one land. And this land gave us our lives, our identity, our heritage. No matter what others say, the Philippines is still our home. No matter how badly the Philippines has been criticized or the Filipinos have been maligned, we are still a nation ruled by our own countrymen. No matter how far away we settle, the Philippines is still our point of origin and our Filipino hearts will always yearn to go back. No matter how good it is to live in another country, it is only in the Philippines where we will be our selves. As Prof. Winnie Monsod said, “I don't care where you are, you go to Hong Kong, you go to Singapore, you're rich, rich, rich, you're still gonna be a second-class citizen anywhere. ANYWHERE, but in the Philippines. Think of what you can do for this country.”

I am married to a foreigner, not because of economic reasons but by matter of faith. When it comes to issues of where to establish our home, without a doubt, I would always say the Philippines is my first choice. It scares me to think of the day when my husband would say, “It’s time to move.” I feel my insides turning into a knot at the thought of surrendering my passport to become a citizen of another nation. I always held the conviction that God did not make me a Filipino for nothing. I am in the Philippines and will not leave it if only to escape the difficulties that plague it. I am a Filipino because I have a purpose to fulfill as a Filipino no matter how big or small it is. After all, there is nothing insignificant in the eyes of the Creator of the universe, who also happens to be the Creator of this land and its people. For now, casting my vote was my one little contribution to my country. I’m glad my right forefinger is stained.