Rainy Day Thoughts (12 June 2018)



I love rainy days. But I understand not everyone would agree with me. Near where I live, heavy rains bring about floods. Areas that are beside rivers, lakes and seas can become dangerous places to be in. Low lying spots suffer the most. I used to rent an apartment in Roxas District. Drizzles make knee deep rivers on streets. Storms cover entire first floors. I was out of that apartment when the big Habagat of 2011 hit the country. The water reached the second floor. And we’re not talking about fresh water. I once heard a guy tease his friend: “You smell like the river.” Yes, these folks know the smell of dead rivers.

I love rainy days. But I remember not loving it when I was young. Where I was born, rains brought about landslides that killed people. A friend of mine, who sang Alto in the school choir died when a mudslide engulfed the van she was riding. And then there’s the cold — it was hard to bear the cold rain on your back. When I was a kid, going to school was tricky when there’s a monsoon rain or typhoon. Water hits every side of you, umbrellas are useless. Plus we had to carry bags full of books. I hated it when my books got wet. I hated it when my socks were drenched. We walked to school then.

I love rainy days. But I understand that when it’s raining its harder to cope with whatever you’re going through. I don’t know, some people feel gloomy when it rains. I used to, I guess, but I was easy to appease. A bowl of soup will do the job, plus a hug from the people I love. I love the rain because I can stay in bed and read a book. I can sing a song and shout till the veins show. I love the rain because I realize there are frogs nearby, their chorus reminds me they’ve been there all along. And then the tap tapping sound of the rain on my roof, that’s just lovely. Music to my ears.

I love rain. I thank God for the rain. What do you love about the rain? I pity those who cannot love the rain right now because of the circumstances they are in. And if you’re one of them, —




I pray you’re safe. I hope you’re having

a cup of tea, or coffee, or anything that would

make you overlook the falling rain upon your roof.

I wish you good company or at least,

WIFI to call up the friend from afar.

May the rains be gentle on your flowers.



Walking is the New Running For Me



A pair of trainers to run the earth,

With people I hold dear;

A pair of sunglasses to watch the sky

As the day is drawing near,

A prayer in my pocket, the Word in my heart

And love to tell me why —

These are the things that I must keep close

And all I need to get by.

It was in 2009 when I wrote the above “manifesto”. I was ready to take on the world. I was single. I was smart. I was strong.

It’s 2018. I am not that young anymore. I am married. I have a loving husband. I have the sweetest daughter.

I still have people I hold dear, sunglasses to watch the sky… And the prayer in my pocket is still there, and the Word, it still burns my heart.

But I am not as strong as before. And my trainers, well, I use them for walking now. No more running like a girl.

In fact, I cannot jog. I cannot jump. I cannot run. Those have been the restrictions emplaced upon my person by a doctor who has studied my spine.



I was talking about my condition to a woman who’s out to conquer the world (like I was in 2009). She expressed her surprise. The health buff in her couldn’t see how anyone can still be okay.

The feeling I had when the doctor told the news was nothing close to sadness. Instead, it was gratitude, and a little bit of uncertainty — but not sadness. The medicine for whatever heaviness I was feeling then was a vivid memory of happy days under the sun.

I remembered my childhood. Climbing trees, wading through rocky rivers, hiking steep terrains, and catching grey tadpoles with my sisters and friends — life was an adventure when I was in the outdoors!

And though I can’t jog, jump, run, I can cook. I can prepare a good meal for my family. I can encourage my husband. I can read to my daughter and sing a lullaby.

I can work with my hands (though there’s a challenge there, sometimes, due to referred pain), but that’s not frequent, yet.


And I can type on this keyboard. I can write letters, verses, songs. My lips can shout or whisper a hymn for my Creator who does all things well. I can help someone in need. I can pray for them. I can serve the Lord where He leads. How can I complain?

My manifesto may have been changed in the running part, but it is a change that is welcome. If anything, I’d say that my life now is slower, and there is time to “smell the roses”. I am looking back with gratitude, and looking ahead with hope in the Lord — come what may.

Come to think of it, the Turtle won the race! The Hare was running, but was distracted. But yes, the Turtle —- what an encouragement from Aesop! Slowly, but surely, that’s it. But Solomon had already thought of it in Ecclesiastes 9:11 long before Aesop did:

I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to me of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.

Now what happens to my manifesto? It still holds. Walking is my new running. And now, by God’s grace, here I am! I am loving my life for what has been given, and what has been taken away.

The walkathon continues and the finish line is still ever before me, calling out to me — “Run with patience! Don’t give up!”


Ecclesiastes 7:10

(KJV) Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these? For thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this.

(NASB) Do not say, “Why is it that the former days were better than these?”
For it is not from wisdom that you ask about this.