On the Banks of Jordan

(Our Pastor was away one weekend and I was requested to speak. This is an excerpt of that sermon.)

They were encamped at the eastern banks of the rushing and swelled up river. They were looking across the river, to a land that was promised to their parents to inherit. A land that was described to be flowing with milk and honey. A land so different from the desert they have been traveling on for so long.

Behind them was the land of Egypt where their parents came from, as slaves. But they cannot remember Egypt that much, as they were all children when they left Egypt. All that were clear in their memory was their aimless wandering in the desert for many years. They practically grew up in the desert. Some of them were even born in the desert.

But their elders and their parents were all gone now. The older generation had all died and had become carcasses in the desert. Also now dead was the spirit of murmuring and unbelief. Gone away was the complaining attitude towards their leader. This was a new generation. A generation with a more trusting spirit.

This was the new nation of Israel.

They were not a great nation. At least not yet. They were not mighty warriors. They were children of slaves! Their generation was inexperienced and young, that none of them was older than 60 years old (anybody older than 20 when they left Egypt, were not allowed to see the Promised Land). Except for their new leader, Joshua, and another older man named Caleb.

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The distance from Egypt to Canaan if you travel by the most direct route, is about 250 miles. This is a trip that the Israelites could have completed in about a month. Even if they only walk 1 mile a day…..1 mile a day! Do you know how slow that is? A giant tortoise can walk a mile in 4 hours. So if they walk slower than a tortoise and even resting on Sabbaths, it would take them less than a year to reach the Promise Land. But how long did it took them to reach their destination? 40 long years!

I know sometimes in this life we are made to wander in the desert. Sometimes we experienced long delay, and I am not talking about airport terminals, but in achieving our goals in this life. Many times we are like little kids asking God, are we there yet? How long O Lord would we wait? The answer my dear brethren is, in His time. Yes, in God’s time.

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Back to the Israelites, finally their wandering was almost over. Finally they were in the boundary of entering the Promised land. Finally they were overlooking the land that had been promised for them, many years ago.

Only one more obstacle laid in their path: the mighty Jordan river.

Jordan. In Hebrew, Yarden. It is derived from the word meaning to “descend or flow down.” If we study the geography of Jordan from the part that flows out from the Sea of Galilee, down to where it ends up to the Dead Sea, it is about 60 miles. In this relatively short course, it has a rather steep descent, from 682 feet below sea level from Galilee, to 1300 feet below sea level at the Dead Sea (the lowest point on Earth). That’s a fall of 10 feet per mile, explaining the rapid currents.

The Jordan river near Gilgal, the location where the Israelites cross, was said to be only about 100 feet wide at times. But we were told that it was the harvest season and it was flooded in its banks, as the snow from the mountains flows to it. Those who visited this river during the spring season, claims that Jordan river can swell up to 1 mile. 1 mile wide!

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Jordan River flooding, circa 1930′s

(*photo from LifeintheHolyLand.com)

God made sure that if the people of Israel will cross Jordan it will not be through their own strength. They have to fully trust on the power of God.

My friends, we all have our Jordan. Something that we need to cross to get to the other side. Something that is blocking our path to reach our goals and destination. For some of us it is our poor health condition and illness. For some of us it is our financial predicament and difficulties. For some of us it is our strained or broken relationship. For some of us, they are some other problems that I have no idea, but you alone know what they are.

Brethren, our God is more mightier than our Jordan. He is bigger than the biggest problem we can encounter. He is more powerful than any obstacle laying in our path. And He will help us cross it, if we will fully trust in Him.

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(sermon adapted from the Book of Joshua)

Quitting my Day Job

I was again on-call the other weekend. After the extended hours of working a very long week (2 weeks that blended into each other), I felt exhausted and depleted. Am I getting tired of this profession? What if I call it quits today? Will I be able to survive on my current passion and skills other than being a physician?

I can give more time to writing. In fact, writing is my stress reliever, that’s why I still blog no matter how busy I get. I enjoy writing, maybe because I don’t have any deadlines or quota on how many articles I can spew out. I write only when I want, and is always on my terms. But that may change if I have to write to earn a living.

Talking about earning, I was offered an honorary* amount of $25 for every article that I contribute to a national newspaper in the Philippines. So that can provide enough money for a decent meal for a day. And on days I cannot produce an article, I guess I don’t eat. Forget about supporting a family or sending my children to college.

But maybe I can write a book that will be a bestseller. Then maybe my book will be adapted into a movie. Then I certainly have it made. I can dream, can’t I? Or maybe I can make big money from this blogging? Ha! Dream on.

How about if I pay more attention to my piano playing? I was asked to play for a funeral service once and I did it out of respect. I was not expecting anything in return, but was surprised when they gave me an honorary sum of $75 for about 30 minutes of playing. Not a bad gig at all! But then I need to find more dead people to play in their funeral to make this a living. (Hanap-patay instead of hanap-buhay.) That’s not a good wishful thinking.

Maybe I can hone on my violin playing once more and move back to New York City to play at the Lincoln Center. Did you think the concert hall at the Lincoln Center? No! I’ll play in the subway station at Lincoln Center. I read some news articles that panhandlers in New York City can make up to $200 – $300 a day! Really? Really.

I can also consider teaching or giving lectures. Last year, a national medical organization invited me to speak in one of their educational courses. I obliged to give the lecture since they prepared all the materials and slides, and all I have to do was present it. I did it for the love of teaching, but was delightedly surprised when they handed me an honorary fee of $200 for spending about 2 hours with them. They invited me again this year, and of course I said yes. Did I mention they gave me free lunch too?

Maybe I can be a traveling lecturer, like the ancient Greek philosophers. Maybe I can assume the title “Pedagog.” Or maybe I can be a motivational speaker. That will be great! But wait a minute. What if I am a lousy teacher? Or what if I am a boring speaker? And what if…….

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After giving so much thought on all these options, I have decided that I will keep my current day job……..for at least a little bit longer.

(*honorary job really means without pay, so an honorary fee is definitely less than its market value; in other words, they can pay you better but they wouldn’t)

Boys’ Rite of Passage

A child was being carried by his father to the hospital’s Emergency Room. The kid was wearing an oversized skirt, which was heavily blood-stained. And the kid looked scared, and rightfully so.

But before you speculate more on what happened to that poor child, let’s just say that the kid had a complication of a common procedure. A procedure being done to boys. Especially in the Philippines. Did I just told you that the kid with the oversized skirt was a boy? And he just had a circumcision.

Circumcision. Almost all young boys in our country have to go through this kind of initiation. I am not so sure though, why we Filipinos are so hung up with this tradition. If we are Jewish, then I can understand that. But we are not. Not all cultures are particular in circumcising all their boys. Globally it is estimated that only about 30% of all males are circumcised. But in Filipino culture, you dare not be branded as “supot,” or uncircumcised, as this is viewed as bad as being neutered.

When I was a boy, I was told that the statue of Andres Bonifacio in Balintawak with his raised hand holding a bolo, was a symbol that he was looking for all uncircumcised boys. I even heard that BSP does not really stand for Boys Scouts of the Philippines, but rather “batang supot, patuli!” That’s how ingrained this circumcision is in our culture that every boy cannot escape this “painful” tradition. And the mere mention of the word “tuli” can bring shivers to the spine of every uncircumcised boy.

I can tell you that circumcision is more of a “traditional practice” rather than a real medical necessity. In 1975, the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) stated in no uncertain terms that “there is no absolute medical indication for routine circumcision of the newborn.” They have restated this position in 1983, 1999 and again in 2005. Though there are mounting medical evidence of the benefits of circumcision, at this point it is still not recommended as a “routine procedure” by any medical organization.

I think the real danger, at least in our culture, of having all our boys be circumcised is who and how this surgical procedure is being done. I have heard stories from my elders, that in many barrios, it was traditionally the barber who performs this surgery using “labaha” or razor. They employ the “pukpok” (you don’t want me to elaborate on this!) method. The boy being circumcised chews on some guava leaves, and after the “pukpok,” he had to immediately spit the chewed leaves to his wound. Then they were ordered to swim right away into the river or the ocean. No wonder little boys were scared to death!

I know it is better now, with medical and semi-medical professionals performing this procedure nowadays. From midwives, to nurses, to medical students, to licensed doctors. Circumcision Clinics abound even in small towns especially during summer months of April to June. Many medical missions sponsored by different organizations and schools bring these professionals to different barrios to perform free-of-charge circumcision to right-age boys.

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Operation Tuli

I had the opportunity to join several of these medical missions when I was in medical school and when I was an Intern. After learning from my mentors, I performed a few of this minor surgical procedure. The method we employed was much sophisticated and sterile than the “pukpok” method. We used scalpel and sutures. And yes we gave anesthesia!

Whatever the reason why we Filipinos are so particular with circumcision or why it is so deeply rooted in our culture, I really cannot tell. But somehow, this ritual, which is mostly done during the summer, has become like a rite of passage for young boys. And after bravely undergoing this “painful ceremony,” they can be rightfully called young men.

By the way, that boy who was wearing a skirt who was brought to the Emergency Room and was terrified? That was me.

(*photo is not mine, taken from here)

 

Broken Wings

One fine spring day, we heard a “thump” on our window. It was a small bird who flew right smack into our glass window. The poor bird was stunned from the impact and laid still on our deck. Was it dead? Poor little creature, it became a victim of a clean glass window. Darn Windex!

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My wife and kids took the poor little birdie inside and nursed it. “Should we bring it to the hospital Mom,” my son asked. No, we’ll just take care of it here at home, was my wife’s answer.

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Soon the bird started to move and perked up. My children even dug a worm and try to feed it, but it was not interested in eating. All it wanted to do was to fly again.

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And sure enough, once it was awake and gathered enough strength, it flew. But it flew right back smack into the glass window again! Poor little birdie, it never seems to learn its lesson, not to crash into a window.

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Good thing was that it did not get hurt so badly on its second crash. It brighten up right away. We thought it was ready to take off once more.

So we brought it back outside. And not too long, it was airborne (see video below) and was gone..

Like that birdie, we too sometimes run smack into a glass wall, and we get stunned and hurt by our own mistakes. And yes we recover, but only to fall on the same mistakes again!

But as long as we have the will to try again, we will fly again. Even on broken wings.

Against the Wind

Our weather had been crazy lately. One day it was spring, with cool, crisp temperature in the 50′s F. Then came summer, hot and in the 80′s F. Then back to winter with cold winds at 30′s F with lots of snow in the forecast. And all of that in a stretch of few days. That’s Iowa weather for you.

When there’s wild swings in the temperature with warm and cold air colliding, this causes unstable condition, and sudden thunder storms, or hailstorms, or even tornadoes can erupt. In fact, few days ago, some parts of Iowa had storms with ping-pong-size hail. Good thing no tornadoes have developed, yet (emphasis on the yet).

Yesterday, I went out for a morning run. It was really windy, with steady winds of about 30-35 miles per hour, with occasional gusts nearing 40 miles per hour. That was not considered a storm still. It was just a normal Iowa windy day. (A strong tropical storm has sustained winds of 39-73 miles/hour; 74 miles/hour or more, then it is considered a hurricane; while tornadoes can reach a wind speed of more than 300 miles/hour.)

While I was running inside our housing community, I did not feel the gusting winds right away, as the trees and houses blocked some of it. However when I went out to the lonely dirt road that was part of my running route, I experienced then the full effects of the wind force. The dirt road was in the vast open, with miles and miles of empty (still early for planting) corn fields, with nothing to block the gales.

It was bad enough that I was running against the wind, but the worst part was that the strong gust was causing dust clouds. I thought of turning back, but that will be a longer way to go, so I decided to move on.

It was not easy running against the wind, I can tell you that. That 1-mile stretch of dirt road that I usually cover in 10 minutes, took me forever to run. At least that’s how long it felt. But I made it through.

In life, sometimes we feel that we are running against the wind. There will be opposition that will slow us down. They will blow dust in our face. And sometimes adversaries may even completely stop us in our tracks.

We cannot choose the direction of the wind. We can only choose the direction where we want to go. And that means, sometimes we need to run against the wind.

Ang Buhay Ay Parang Jeepney

“Mama, bayad ko ho. Isang Quiapo, kasasakay lang. Paki abot na nga lang po.”

Iyan ang naging linya ko araw-araw noon. Matagal-tagal ko na ring hindi nasasabi ito. Dahil wala namang jeepney papuntang Quiapo dito sa Iowa.

Pero kahit mahabang panahon na akong hindi sumasakay ng jeepney, ay mayroon pa rin akong mga naranasan noon, na nagagamit ko hanggang sa ngayon.

Heto po ang mga natutunan ko sa pagsakay ng jeepney.

1. Natuto akong yumoko. Mababa ang bubong ng jeepney, kaya’t sa pagsakay mo nito ay kailangan kang yumuko. Kung hindi ay mauuntog ka, o kaya’y matatanggalan ng ulo.

Oo nga’t maraming panahon na dapat tayong taas-noo at tuwid ang pagtindig. Ngunit may pagkakataon ding kailangan nating yumoko. Isa na ang sa pagsakay sa jeep.

Sa ating buhay, minsan kailangan nating yumoko at magpakumbaba. Tulad ng kawayan, kahit matayog ang tindig nito, ito’y yumuyuko sa malakas na hagupit ng hangin, upang hindi mabali at makatayong tuwid muli.

2. Umusog kahit konti. Kadalasan sa pagsakay natin sa jeep ay pinakikiusapan tayong umusog kahit konti. “Konting ipit lang po,” sabi nga ng drayber.

Alam kong may mga  drayber na pinagpipilitang sampu-an ang laman ng upuan, kahit hanggang pito lang talaga ang kasya. Pero mas madalas ay makatuwiran naman ang pakiusap sa atin, para naman may maupuan din iyong ibang pasahero.

Hindi naman siguro natin ikamamatay kung kalahati lang ng puwit natin ang nakasayad sa upuan. Hindi rin naman siguro mababawasan ang pagkalalaki (o pagkababae?) natin kung uupo tayo nang hindi nakabukaka. Sa ating buhay, kailangan lang ng bigayan. Konting usog lamang po.

3. Natutong magpa-abot at maki-abot. Hindi lahat ng oras ay makakaupo tayo sa tabi o sa likod ng drayber. May pagkakataong nasa dulo tayo ng jeep, at maliban na ikaw si Yao Ming, sigurado akong hindi mo kayang iabot ang iyong bayad nang direkto sa drayber.

Kaya makiusap tayong pakiabot na lang ang ating bayad. At kung ikaw naman ang napakiusapan, ay iabot na lamang din naman po. Ganyan talaga ang buhay sa loob ng jeepney – abut-abutan lang.

Sa ating lipunan, hindi lamang sa loob ng jeepney, ay hindi rin tayo mabubuhay ng mag-isa lang. Kailangan natin ng tulong ng isa’t-isa.

4. Maging alisto sa mga nangyayari sa aking paligid. Marami akong nasaksihan noon na mga pasahero na natutulog sa loob ng jeep. Maaring pagod na pagod lamang sila. Meron din namang mga nakasakay na pawang gising ngunit tulog ang mga isipan.

Minsan ang mga taong tulog ay lumalagpas sa dapat nilang babaan. O mas masaklap, sila’y nadudukutan.

Maraming beses, kapag tayo’y tulog o nagtutulug-tulugan, ay nalalampasan tayo ng mga pagkakataon sa buhay. O maari naman din tayong pagsamantalahan ng mga taong maiitim ang kaluluwa. Maging alisto po sana tayo.

5. Natutong hingin ang sa akin ay nararapat. May panahon noon na hindi ako sinuklian agad ng drayber, o kulang ang sukling ibinigay sa akin. Marahil ay hindi lang niya ako narinig ng tama, o kaya’y mali ang kanyang kwenta.

Sa pagkakataong iyon, ay aking hinihingi sa drayber ang dapat kong sukli. Dahil unang-una alam kong ako’y tama. Pangalawa, wala na akong pera at magiging kulang na ang pamasahe ko sa susunod kong sakay, at ayaw ko namang tumagaktak ang aking pawis kung ako’y maglalakad na lamang.

May pagkakataon sa buhay natin na kailangan nating ipahiwatig ang ating opinyon o kaya’y ipaglaban ang sa atin ay nararapat. Alamin ang mga bagay na ukol sa atin, at ipagtanggol ang ating karapatan.

6. Ang jeepney ay hindi Limousine. Pero ihahatid ka rin nito sa iyong patutunguhan.

Opo, masikip at siksikan sa loob ng jeep. Mainit. Mausok. Hindi mo pwedeng piliin lagi ang puwesto na iyong uupuan. Hindi mo pwedeng piliin ang iyong makakatabi. Kung minsan ay mapanganib pa ang pagsakay sa jeep. Subali’t sa kabila nito, makakarating din tayo sa ating paroroonan.

Ang biyahe ng buhay ay parang biyahe sa jeepney. Hindi laging maginhawa parang biyaheng sakay ng Limousine. Konting tiis at tiyaga lamang po. Aabot din tayo sa ating gustong marating.

Hanggang dito na lamang po, sa susunod na lang muli.

“Mama para na diyan sa tabi!”

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Quiapo circa 1980′s

(*photo from here)

Forgotten

I admit it. You’ve been out of my mind lately. Or more accurately, you’ve been out of mind, for a long time now. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.

It’s not something that you’ve done. And no, it’s not that I’ve found someone new either. It’s just that I’ve lost that certain feeling. That certain enthusiasm. That’s certain thrill. Somehow it’s different now.

Then I saw you the other day. You seemed abandoned. You looked pleadingly into me, as if you’re begging me to hold you again. Longing for my touch. Imploring me to carry you in my arms once again. I know you felt forgotten.

I can only vaguely remember that we spent long hours together before. But we had so much fun together then. I have almost forgotten that once upon a time we made beautiful music together. Those were the good times. No. Those were the best of times. But that was many summers ago. That was when I was much younger. Now I hardly know you.

Again I’m sorry. I am really sorry. It’s not you. It’s all my fault.

But something sparked inside of me. I am again inspired. Maybe I still have it in me. Maybe I still have that touch. Maybe I can awaken that enthusiasm once more. Maybe I can relived that thrill once more. I know I may be rusty. I know I have lost my dexterity and virtuosity. But I know also that I can hone that mastery again.

I am looking forward to caressing you and lifting you into my shoulders. I would like to rest my head on your well-figured body. I would like to run my fingers in your long neck once again. I am excited to lovingly stroke your strings again. And maybe, just maybe, I can make you sing once more.

It would be such a delight to hear your voice again……..my forgotten violin.

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my forgotten love

Weekly Photo Challenge: Up

When I was a kid, I climbed up furnitures, trees and fences, much to my parent’s distress. And I had some scratches and even stitches along the way.

When I got older, I climbed up mountains and ladders of my dreams. I had a few slips and setbacks, but I reached my goal. I hope I made my parents proud.

A few weeks ago, my son and I went to a special gym and climbed up a 4-storey wall. With safety harness, of course. And we had a “wall” of fun.

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That’s me up high, with my best impression of “spider on the wall.”

You would say that I am not fearful of heights. In fact, I love heights. But only when we overcome our fears that we can scale the mountains and walls of our dreams. And I am not speaking of fear of heights.

(*Entry for WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Up)

For the Love of Marathon

I love marathons. It epitomizes the human grit and endurance. 26-mile long of pavement-pounding and grueling run. Though I have not run a marathon yet, I hope that someday I will be in one. I have run in three half-marathon in the past three years, so maybe I’m due for the full one next time.

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photo taken during my visit to Boston last year

The Boston Marathon is one of the more famous and elite races. You need to run a qualifying race just to even participate on it. For my age group (45-49), in order for me to be eligible, I need to have a previous time of 3 hours and 25 minutes or less. Really? I will be happy to finish it in less than 24 hours. Or maybe just to finish it, period!

But now this. The bombings in the recent Boston Marathon had saturated our news in the past couple of days. A day of celebration turned into a dreadful one. What a tragic event. What a senseless act of violence. My thoughts and prayers goes to all the victims and their families.

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Boston bombing (photo from CNN news)

Will this horrific acts of terror forever change our love for marathon? Certainly not! We will not be deterred. We will not slow down. We will not back down. And like the fallen runner in the photo, we will rise up on our feet, and we will finish the race.

I will continue to run. I will continue to train. I will continue to participate in the races. We will continue to have marathon events. We will continue to live our lives and pursue the things that we love. Running the marathon will not only symbolize our perseverance. It will also signify our defiance.

Run. For the love of marathon. For the love of freedom. For the love of life.