We Were Not Just Co-Workers

"Come with me Rcubes," invited the supervisor who had to leave early and upon my workmates and my insistence for her to leave after receiving a frightful phone call.She needed to go straight to the hospital where her father had been in for many months now and not doing well.

"Would you please give this to Nurse E. and Nurse H. and oh!" as she grabbed a small package filled with goodies I could tell she made, "This is for you..."

"Oh...Nurse C., you don't have to do that but thank you."

"Yes, I do...You always bring stuff."

"Drive safely C. and please, let us know if we can help you with anything. Be strong."

She took a few steps closer to me and with the freezing atmospheric breaths blowing upon us, she initiated a hug.

Careful not to be taken as a special favor when I first walked into the Clinic, I gave her the same chocolate candies I had ready for everyone working with me last night. As I had been going through a tough battle against many people in higher positions, I was careful not to treat her as if I wanted a favor from her, being one of our supervisors.

"Merry Christmas!" as she got up and gave me the first hug inside the Infirmary.

She had been calling in sick a lot. When I first heard about her father being very sick in the hospital, it brought many mem'ries of my own as my father was longing to go Home after being diagnosed with Colon Cancer. I could imagine the physical and mental toll this illness had not only on her father but on herself. She was one of our supervisors. Tired of those supervisors who backstabbed their own crew, she was careful not to do that. I remembered she would talk about her oldest son and how he would pray whenever something went wrong. There were nights when we were not too busy and she spoke about the Bible and God and spiritual enemies.

I let my cautious walls around me fell apart as she approached me with open arms after instructing me about her gifts.

"Merry Christmas again and I pray that you will remain strong," I uttered as I enveloped my arms around her.

And in that short flash of moment, I knew we both had let our differences disappear.

Yes, we differed in so many ways and sometimes even clashed with our attitudes. But one thing remained true, we were both in need of strength, hope, peace and joy in our hearts despite the many trials we encounter. The kind that only would come from God. The gifts from the Father we both knew and loved and Who found us both when we were walking astray at one point in our lives. She knew my battle. I knew hers.

There we were in the well-lit staff parking, as if time froze on us and I knew our hearts both felt the comfort and strength and sincere love that only would come from being a part of God's family. It might be just a "simple hug" but we knew that it became a source of strength and comfort knowing we were not alone in our battles.  Suddenly, I didn't see her as a supervisor anymore as she said "Bye." And with the tone of her voice, I knew she didn't treat me as just a "co-worker below her."

I just knew...our bond was more evident. The bond of unity that only would come from God's merciful hands. We were not just co-workers. We were sisters in Christ's family.

May You Be Distracted By A Child

My oven stayed cool, the door unopened and without any fallen flour dusts. I haven’t baked anything sweet this season. Some loved ones and friends already received the gifts we had given them. Gifts that were not rushed in forms of gift cards and good pastries bought from a nearby-bakery shop. Except for a few fishes my husband and I made with labor. I cleaned the fishes as he chopped the veggies and mix everything and cooked everything, only to be stuffed back into the fish. With the back side sewn, then pan fried with just a dab of oil. Some friends liked it that we opted to give them these as gifts from our kitchen.

As we remember the coming of our Lord Jesus, I pray that many who don’t know Him would be distracted by the “birth of the child”, instead of the distractions of this world. From our home to yours, Merry Christmas friends and may God bless you all richly!


"18 This was how the birth of Jesus Christ took place. His mother Mary was engaged to Joseph, but before they were married, she found out that she was going to have a baby by the Holy Spirit.19 Joseph was a man who always did what was right, but he did not want to disgrace Mary publicly; so he made plans to break the engagement privately.20 While he was thinking about this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said,
Joseph, descendant of David, do not be afraid to take Mary to be your wife. For it is by the Holy Spirit that she has conceived.21 She will have a son, and you will name him Jesus—because he will save his people from their sins.

22 Now all this happened in order to make come true what the Lord had said through the prophet,23
A virgin will become pregnant and have a son, and he will be called Immanuel (which means,
God is with us).

24 So when Joseph woke up, he married Mary, as the angel of the Lord had told him to.25 But he had no sexual relations with her before she gave birth to her son. And Joseph named him Jesus." - Matthew 1:18-25 (GNT)

What If God Wants Me There?

“So, I’m seeing you guys come Sunday, Christmas?” the pastor asked my family and I as we exited the Sanctuary after our first worship service. Hugging each of us and seeing his enthused-powered smiles every time, we couldn’t help but smile back.

“Of course,” I replied with a grin to match his and that was what the three of us discussed and agreed upon when we realized as he announced from the altar that Sunday would be Christmas Day.

“Let’s go,” I told my husband who already said “Yes” anyway even before I was done asking him and my son agreed, too.

My smile eventually vanished when I remembered that I was scheduled to work come Christmas Eve, meaning that I would miss our fellowship on Sunday, Christmas Day.

“That’s okay,” my husband tried to reassure me knowing how heavier my heart grew when I told him.

“Kristian and I would still go even if you would miss it,” he added.

Of all places to be on such an important day of remembering Jesus, I would spend it on this place I had been dreading the most. I didn’t want to be there. I lost my enthusiasm ever since I was given a hard time by those people having higher positions. All because of their ill intentions to do what they want to do, showing how powerful they could become that they could do what they decided to do. It didn’t matter if people under them were not happy. It didn’t matter even if they didn’t want to announce and always surprised the staff with many changes that most of them were driven to more stressful situations on their part.

“Bummer,” I whispered to my husband and son.

At the back of the car, as my son drove to go to our favorite breakfast place, I had been contemplating about missing the fellowship. As I tried to say “I’m sorry” in my silent prayer only God could hear, I felt some comfort in my heart at the same time. The type that strengthened me and reassured me that it was okay for me to miss the service.

“What if He wanted me to be there?” I suddenly thought to myself.

“Who am I to refuse with what He wanted me to do?”

I didn’t know the reason why I felt comfortable after that thought but there was one thing sure in my heart and mind these past few days, even months and years….

“That there are lots of people suffering, both physically and much more spiritually.”

“How can I serve You God?” I sometimes asked Him, sometimes afraid I even asked Him knowing it could be uncomfortable many times.

But with His grace, I know I can… Only by God’s grace…

“³We have everything we need to live a life that pleases God. It was all given to us by God's own power, when we learned that he had invited us to share in his wonderful goodness. ⁴God made great and marvelous promises, so that his nature would become part of us. Then we could escape our evil desires and the corrupt influences of this world.

    ⁵Do your best to improve your faith. You can do this by adding goodness, understanding, ⁶self-control, patience, devotion to God, ⁷concern for others, and love. ⁸If you keep growing in this way, it will show that what you know about our Lord Jesus Christ has made your lives useful and meaningful. ⁹But if you don't grow, you are like someone who is nearsighted or blind, and you have forgotten that your past sins are forgiven.” – 2 Peter 1:3-9 (CEV)

Father, please forgive me for all my short-sighted visions. Give me a pair of eyes like Yours that see the needs of others around me. Give me ears that hear other's afflictions and give me hands that love to help out and reach out to others with the best I can. Give me a compassionate heart like Jesus', able to love unconditionally, even my enemies. Thank You God for loving us unconditionally and sending Jesus, Your only Son, to save humanity. This Christmas, help me remember the precious gift You had given me was not for me to keep, but also to be shared among others. Thank You Lord for Your love and mercy and grace. In Jesus' Name. Amen.

The Wounds In The Heart

There he was sitting on the cold floor, in a very long hallway in one of the prison’s units. In what appeared to be a weak state, he seemed not able to get up, close to a huge metal door, some deputies from both units where he sat were surrounding and watching him until we, the medical staff, came and responded to their radio call.

He claimed that he fell earlier in the day from his bunk and his unit sent him to the Infirmary to be examined. Halfway the distance, that was when he sat down and complained of being “dizzy.”

Borrowing a guerney from the nearest unit, the other nurse wheeled him down to the Clinic, as I struggled to carry the slight heavy red emergency bag, strapped to my right shoulder, my footsteps, following them.

“Do you mind taking over?” the nurse asked me if I could take care of this inmate who fell.

“Not at all,” I replied as I gathered the vital signs machine and other things I needed to evaluate and probe more.

He seemed very anxious. With his eyes going in every direction, only maintaining a short amount of time with eye contact, he kept complaining he didn’t feel good. I saw the beads of tears formed in those slightly almond shaped eyes, surrounded with a darkness that marked a lot of shallow sleeps and perhaps, nights that he didn’t sleep at all. He was honest about his history of being “bipolar.”

“Sir, there’s more to this…”

“What do you mean? I don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t feel good that’s why we brought you here to the Clinic to try and help you out. Do you feel like hurting yourself?”

He stopped in his marathon talks of complaints. He looked down and couldn’t maintain an eye contact with me even more. With a soft whisper, he let out an audible “Yes.”

As soon as he said that, he cried. He said that he had been constantly hearing his mother crying that it was driving him “nuts” that he felt hurting himself would end it all.

I wished we had more time so I could find out where the hurt was coming from. I knew he wasn’t dizzy physically. He was dizzy because of the confusion that was clouding his mind. He wanted to be surrounded with peace. But he was surrounded with darkness and noises only himself could hear that roused more anxiety deep within his heart. It was even worse that he was surrounded by the prison walls and the darkness that was present day and night as they only had tiny windows in each cells.

I wasn’t able to find out the true relationship that he had with his mother whether it was disruptive or a caring nature. But the bottom line was….this man was hurting deep inside. I could see the veil of anxiety covering him and despite being on some medications to help him, the symptoms were not being relieved at all. I could sense the scab of painful memories layered over the years in his heart.

I handed a piece of paper to the Deputy who would take him to our Suicide Watch. I knew he would have another long night without any possible sleep. But placing him to be monitored would guarantee his safety until he could be seen by the Mental Health doctor in the morning. It was sad that he needed to be protected. Not from others…But from himself.

A lot of times in my life’s journey, I stored what hurt me the most in my heart, especially if they were caused by others. And what a big heart I have that is capable of storing countless wounds! But in doing so, I learned to build walls to protect me and alienate me from those I suspected who would hurt me again. Sometimes, I tried to bury the painful memories to make me forget but every time I saw that place where I buried them, the pain started again. In reality, I was the only one who suffered the most, not those people who hurt me. The truth was I was hurting no one but myself.

There is no wound that God’s love cannot heal. But with the veil of darkness and pain that covered me, I had learned that I must be open to have these wounds be exposed to His light and healing. This was not a fun process but once I received His offer of love, His love replaced what was in my heart and with His help, I had put down those walls I created and let His bridge be built instead… Yes, those walls needed to come down first, in order for me to allow His grace and mercy to penetrate deep within and His Spirit to aerate the dead cells in my heart.

Because God loves to comfort…God loves us first… God wants us to be healed.

Are you willing to let those walls in your heart crumble and be open to His light and healing?

“For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…” – Isaiah 43:3 (NIV)