Harvest

The need for available workers in God's vineyard looms with urgency.

The harvest has been prepared and teeming.

The call to serve in God's kingdom is often misunderstood to mean solely in terms of full time pastoral ministry work. This is quite myopic.

We cannot all be missionaries and parsons in its literal sense but we are all invited to take up the towel of service wherever we are for such constitutes the field of yield.

God awaits our unbridled commitment to follow Him in His delight to redeem the lost. 

We do this by taking the first step by praying to be sent without any further delay. 

B Scene / Bianca Diwa out in the harvest field.  

Above

The Lord God claims the purview of ushering a man upward or downward. 

I first met Japheth during my constant visits with his dad. Peter was then a prized rookie for the popular Barangay Ginebra club. The fiery faith of Aguilar approximates his eagle-like tenacity in raising his boy. 

My wife had the simple joy of mentoring the lanky lad how to swim. My younger brother had the privilege of introducing him to stateside NCAA. As he suited up for Western Kentucky, the ascent of his sporting career took off. 

During some of our chats, I find the conversation about God providing the central narrative of where he is headed. 

Like any young man, his trek has been most challenging.  

Not too long ago, he introduced me to the nuance of the Euro-step. It is a footwork maneuver that seeks to throw off the guard with a sharp slant towards the basket.

This is always my prayer for Japheth and all whom God has graciously introduced me to.

May the wind behind their back cause them to sharply slant to soar above the ordinary and unto Christ's glorious lift. 

Japheth over Kevin Durant / Team Philippines Smart Gilas vs. Kobe+NBA stars.  

Why

A few years back, an involved conversation took place while I was driving my eldest daughter to school. 

Nika: Dad, I need to tell you something that I feel strongly needs to be done urgently. 

Me: Go ahead, I'm listening. 

Nika: I really don't know how to say this without surprising you perhaps, but I really have to say it, Dad. 

Me: Nika, you can tell me anything ...  

Nika: Ok. (Pause) I need to move to New York and study there.

Me: Why, New York?  

Nika: I am being led to pursue Fashion and I have to study where it's best taught.  

Me: There are good schools here in Texas that offer courses in Fashion right?  

Nika: It has to be New York, Dad. I'm called to the place to train well.

Me : How sure are you?

Nika: Just as sure as you were when you left for Theological training because God called you towards a clear path. 

Me: How sure are you that it's from God? 

Nika: He spoke deep and wide through the book of Esther. Just like her, I have been granted a precious assignment for such a time as this.  

She went on to pursue her craft sustaining a fierce summa cum laude mode, and consequently joining the fashion merchandising tour de force with passion.  She currently writes and speaks both here and abroad about the Theology of Fashion.

Beats

There is quite a scarcity of words to describe the enduring affection amongst siblings. Loving and caring, albeit apropos, seem not to reach far enough.  

I am a staunch observer of this miracle through my daughters' relational rendezvous. They have been going through roads less traveled and have come out ever more so twined. 

The Psalmist speaks of this gift as oil and dew.  

It is an enduring experience where the other is granted unbridled respect while accompanied with scrumptious anticipation. 

Alas, wonderland friendship! 

My daughters in His sync

Thirst

Our insatiable craving for significance draws the attention of various wells. We drink from sources that are somehow inept in quenching our deep longings.  

There is truly a singular fount that offers the filling of our souls: the Living Water found in the person of Jesus Christ. 

Those who turn to His grace, find an eternal satisfaction that refreshes all weariness. 

Toys

I fondly remember my yesteryears of play. It was a time of imaginative recreation.

A royal castle arose from structured newspaper.

A scooter was engineered from scraps of wood and surplus bearings.

A raft was crafted from rubber slippers.

A baseball borne out from compressed socks.

The ingenuity went on ad infinitum.  

Those were days of simple fun. Friendship bonded through creative means that were quite devoid of business machinations. The primary intent of the toy was not hidden.

It was to run with the wind. To dance in the storm. To strike a monster. To touch the tail of heaven.

Back in the days, play and life were integrated with pure wonder. 

I pray for the present generation to have a taste of such glee. 

Toy Mail

Silence

Paul Simon was on to something deep in the 60's. 

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools" said I
"You do not know, silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence.

Alas, our own machinations have ushered the Age of Mute.  

We must pray for a divine egress.

A way out of from Desert Lull and unto the springs of River Conversation.  

We begin by allowing the Speech of God to pry us out from our delusional chatter.  

Simon & Garfunkel / Sound of Silence 

Sway

The sweet experience of intimate knowledge comes from tenacious seeking.  

God did not commit a tithe on His resolve to redeem us. He gave Himself in demonstrating His pursuit.

Ravished by such grace, I am swept inside the currents of an everlasting dance. With uplifted hearts, I sway to the melody of the Redeemer's sonata. 

I am Yours.  

You are Mine.  

Mimi

She is Mimi to my daughters: a vigorous mother cloaked with wisdom encased in kindness.

When I married her, I had initial clues about her remarkable aptitude towards children. As time went by and with the validating certitude of her care towards Nika & Bianca, I am truly devoid of words in gratitude for this beautiful mercy I have beheld from Christ's endowment.  

Thank you my forever bride for the unrelenting devotion you keep towards our little ones.  

True

The experience of truly knowing God goes beyond mere cognition. The sensory aspect of tasting His actual presence constitutes the reality of a deep personal relationship.  

Like aged wine, the succulence of grape must go beyond merely reading its label, a good sip determines its wonder.  

The first signed miracle of Christ took place at a wedding in Khirbet Qana. The lavish purveying of good wine presented a parable of the coming promised feast: the Bridegroom shall meet the Bride in truthful bliss.

Joy is a foundational ethic in God's kingdom. It runs smoothly and with deep grace, its hilarity resounds for God's sole acclaim.  

Flight

We are strapped to a world that has no mercy but punitive oppression. It is from humanity's fall that such malignant existence drew forth. Thus, we strive and find our recurring failure: we miss all marks.  

There is not one who has been spared from this nuclear blast of sin.  

We take off in our self-driven machines hoping to find some restful destination only to be met in haste by compounding echoes of failure. 

This is where the meta narrative of God's plan stands alone. He alone calls out our shared cancer for what it is while declaring the only cure for its resection.  

The Great Physician has come to offer the only health option that erases the guilt and consequence of all our perdition.  

Holy impunity is here.

Covered by the Gospel of Christ.  

Place

The gift of place calls for the proper response of good stewardship.  

The house of prayer where I worship has a delightful street: Lookout Drive.

It has been quite a journey leading from looking at one spot to another. For a season, our congregation waited for God's leading where we ought to stay. 

The story of God's provision may be summed up in one word: humbling. 

Through the years, I park and silently take in the spectacle of wonderful grace. God owns the land. He grants access for His Kingdom to shine.

Blindside

Last night's NBA playoffs between San Antonio Spurs versus Houston Rockets featured a most riveting analogy.

In the dying seconds of their overtime game, the cunning veteran Manu Ginobili slipped undetected from the rear swatting the ball off pure shooter James Harden.  

I catch myself falling prey at times to such weakness. I aim at my goal, confident of my perceived stroke, only to be hindered by a swipe that missed my calculus.

This is where humanity constantly crashes and thus the desperate need for wise lumens.  

The world is eclipsed by a present and pressing darkness. There is however a prevailing brightness that has come to subdue all existing chaos.  

The resplendence resides and exudes from one person. He coaches with stunning precision. He knows life because He is life.  

He never loses, especially during overtime. 

His name is Jesus. Rabbi and Redeemer.  

Game 5 NBA Playoffs  

Buko

Coconut water is magical. What is enchanting is its packaging. Sturdy as rock, it keeps the wonderful freshness of succulent gelatinous meat and juice on optimum.  

When God gave me my bride, I found a fount of nourishing spring. Her unabridged demeanor is akin to a shell that covers the most delicate kindness.  

I have faced a thousand and one arrows but none has pierced my soul due to her fount that drips freely towards my every lack.  

My Bride + Buko from Kabankalan, Negros Occidental  

Cuddle

It's almost Mother's Day and expediency prompts me to be days early in speaking thanks to my precious Mama  for exemplifying pristine character in her vocation to cause our flourishing.

Beauty has always been my mother's middle name. She was muse to her University, and a princess to all those whom she met. Her devotion to Papa may be described as epic. To this day, the fragrance of her family devotion rises beyond any cloud and unto azure heights.  

When I turn to her countenance, I see the face of the sweet Redeemer. 

Thank you for your life and love, dearest mother.  

My dearest Mama, age 84. Feels like 18. 

Pulpit

The Latin etymological origin refers to a staging place where drama takes place. Nowadays, the pulpitum indicates the platform where preachers rise to hurl homilies. 

During my early years as a PhD student in Biblical Studies, I had the rare chance to pick the moorings of John Walvoord on the matter of preaching assignment. 

He had a forceful advise in this regard. He warned of any human propensity to strategize the preaching calendar lest it resemble a machinated flow. He advised against the depravity of spiritual plagiarism as one simply echoes a book or a trend that currently fancies the preacher.  

He left only one option.

Listen well to the movement of the Holy Spirit and be sure to follow His lead to speak afresh the truths to God's hungry flock.  

Starboard

Our competence hangs on nothing more and nothing less but on God's enabling. 

The recycling of the story of Babel creeps deep into our broken paradigms and thus we enter into commitments with altered intents. 

We cast our nets and we catch nothing.  

Then grace appears. 

Divine mercy sets out to rescue our mortal ineptness and we are blessed with a new lease.  

Ahh, to be restored by His unfathomable grace!  

Sketch / David Talaguit/ Hook, Line, & Sinker

Justified

The concept of justification is most slippery without its proper context.  

The inverse of such is damnation.  

Human sensitivities turn towards a propensity to deny the reality of sin. The claim of wages due to perdition seems most condescending. Thus, we strut our way into thinking that all is well with our compromise.

Until we hit rock bottom. 

When the imminence of death knocks, oh so suddenly, the veil of our own deceit lifts and we grow in panic.

The sting of mortality bites hard. 

This is where the work of Christ finds its locus.  

No one finds vindication in any human striving. Adherence to whichever law shall run short.  

The solution to our delusion is revelation.

God has disclosed His offer of peace through the finished substitutionary work of Jesus, the Son of God. 

For some, this seems like some funny myth.

For those, who have received the incredible grant, it has become akin to freedom daily purveyed in the garden.  

B Scene / Kara Bianca Diwa / 📸Chester Canasa

Renaissance

Cultural bridges show up every now and then. A fad here, a trend there. Beguiling Pied Pipers have come to usher our exit from our known ways. Thus, we follow the guide through the long and winding streets only to recoil in discovering the blind lead.  

The claim of God's Revelation seems archaic and passé through modern lenses but nothing could be more relevant and dynamic than the veracity of God's Word.

Every jot and tittle is a rare gift out from His default from supreme privacy. He deliberately chose to lead us into His truth.  

This divine favor surpasses the ministerial competence of any religious structure.

The Bible imbibes a magisterial poise.

As it is the infallible disclosure of God's intelligence, we are beckoned to consider our mortal ignorance and gladly receive His thoughts with utmost humility.  

Renewal

The primary purpose of any given day is to showcase God's work of sanctification. 

We are called to attend a daily renewal of our being.

More often than not, we drift mindlessly towards toil that is devoid of substance. We are lulled by the social climate to merely follow with muted thoughts. Thus we grow old wondering about our wanderings.  

The practice of submission begins with the humble posture of obedience.  

The Christian life is leveraged from the absolute claim that God knows all things. As such, open minds, hearts, souls, and hands are necessary. 

We think, to do that which matters for God's Glory alone. This is where true and abiding joy gets renewed.

Soli Deo Gloria.