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Random Blog

I am apprehensive to write this post. I just feel that if I write very often some people may not be able to read the other posts and to think this is just some random update that I wish to do since I really do not have something to write in my mind. I just came from a major exam and I felt this could be a good way to unwind.

This morning I was shocked when my squadmate (a plebe) suddenly turned white while we were having mess. I gave him something "hot" as a punishment for not complying an order a gave him yesterday. Apparently he was not someone who is able to tolerate the "hotness" of the stuff I gave him and he just became pale. He started to slouch complaining that his stomach was painful. I tried coercing him until finally I threatened him of giving him another set of that "hot" stuff I gave him earlier and finally he corrected his posture. I do not wish to grosse out people of the reality of what we do here. I just wanted to give the impression of how things are done here. It may not be something that people will agree on but it is the system that we do. After that, I brought them somewhere and gave my speech on what is it that I wanted to to do. I expressed how I feel bad about the fact that they do not trust that I am doing the right thing in training them. I told them that my job is not to please them but to bring out the traits necessary for an effective and professional soldier. I was very emotional while talking to them because I really wanted them to understand why some things had to be done. I wanted to show that despite of how uncomfortable the way things are, it is part of training and unless they understand that they will not become the soldiers that we wish them to become. I again asked them to trust that I am doing what it is that I have to do. As I walked back to my barracks, I was just hoping that they understood what I meant. When we take our lunch this afternoon, I will continue to scrutinize what they do and continue to hope.

Last night, I had a nice time exchanging text messages with a good friend who was a wife of an upperclass. My fondness to that exchange was brought about by my interest to validate some of the theories I have about my so called lovelife (entry just before this one). I did have so many insights/ For her, I think she was just reminiscent of her own love story and how she ended up being married to someone of my own kind. I guess we do have something in common and I could sense her fascination to the replies I have on her inquiries. I think we will be having more of that exchange in the days to come.

My life is normal spiced up with wonderful things that are slowly revealing itself as I go on. I like the way things are going on, so many plans are on my mind and I continue to blog about all of it. I guess that is the beauty of this blog, we just do not know what comes next...

My so-called Lovelife

<-- Ito ang aking pet sa barracks... har har

There are many things that I feel right now but I find it hard to express. I really want to say it but I'm just confused. But I'm always like this and the more and play with the keyboard and just be spontaneous something of sense will come out.

As I was reviewing for a major exam last night, I had the chance of having some little text chat with a friend from far away. It wasn't exactly the chat that I always do as most of my friends have given up asking me how I am because I also have become board giving them good answers. It has been like that for the past month, even the one friend who continues to send me letters through the postal service has ran out of things to say because she now has her boylet to say those things to. My classmates, especially my room mates, are not exactly the type of people that would be interested to listen to my rantings as the do not exactly know my soft side. So, I was left with this one person who could at least enlighten me with the things that have been bothering my mind.

My so called lovelife as I keep on babbling about in this blog is limited to a letter a week and some text message once in two months. Over the months, I have somewhat became comfortable with that and did not really mind much. In the earlier part I was a bit restless, apprehensive and even fearsome because I was just revealing myself to someone that I do not even know who wants to be told with those nonesense. There are times that I would spend most of the night just wondering about the things that I do not know. But I continue to write believing that what we reap is what we sow. I gain confidence in my optimistic view on things and on the premiss that my intentions are pure and sincere. In the days that I had to give up some luxuries when I went to Leadership Development Course, I tried my best to find time to write, some of which were written on dirty pieces of paper that was an evident on the kind of life I was subjected to in that training. In the nights that I write those letters, my classmate would make fun at me saying that I was just plain stupid. But I went on, asking other people to mail the letters for me (which they did not do) even saving the little money that I have so that I can mail my letters when time permits. But eventhough the possibility of going to the post office was very slim, I continued to write because I wanted to capture the exact emotion I had and how I have been longing for something... maybe how I have been longing for her. Even as I moved on to become squad leader to the new plebes who were at summer camp then, I squeezed in letter writing even if the training directorate required so much time for the squad leaders that it was really very exhausting. I survived all that and began a new academic term where I have more time to write. I guess the point I am driving at is that despite of the things that I encountered trying to make my letters and the disappointment of not having to receive anything as a feedback, I have come to love it. Not because I am some self centered person who enjoys narrating stories about himself but because it's as if I am sharing my life with someone. Somehow, there is this hope that a time will come that she will also share hers with mine. I realized that in my situation thats the least that I can do to at least put emphasis the point that something in me was changed because of the way she touched my life.

My rantings are useless to most people as I have heard many who just told me as plainly stupid but what the heck. I don't think believing in something that is good in the purest intentions is being stupid even if it takes a long long time to be realized. I am choosing to believe that at the end of it all it is not how people think of me, it is on how true I was to myself and to the feelings that I have for someone who just made my life a little better. Although I do not necessarily feel good about my state, I am contented with my life and I know that whatever it is that comes out of this, it will only be for the better... But I really really hope she snaps out of it....

A tribute to my Daddy

I have a hard time typing this entry, I must have punched so hard during my boxing class this afternoon that I can not move three fingers on my left hand. But I have to write this entry because this is for my Daddy who will be celebrating his birthday tommorrow. I intend to write a tribute for my father who has made a tremendous impact on my life.

I was what they call a father's boy. My mother told me that when she was pregnant with me it was my father that she always wanted to see. Although science can not reallty prove the connection, but as a little boy I always wanted to see him. There was even a time when I got sick if I do not see my father for a very long time. I would do my best to always be with my daddy even squeeze into little spaces so that I can be beside him ALWAYS. So it was not a surprise that I was the most devastated when he separated with my mother and that I learned that he was raising another family aside from us. From that point on, I resented him and did everything I could to do some sort of vengeful act against him. I bad mouthed him, insulted my half siblings, even wishing that he'd die. When my mother left for the States to work, I resented him more thinking that if only he was a good father, my mother wouldn't have to leave us. I did silly things because of this hatred and continued to plot against him. When my mother died of cancer, I hated him more and asked God why is it that it was my mother who died when my father was the bad one. All these things led to other events in my life that pushed me away and away from my father. But deep inside, I was simply trying to get the attention of my father, I simply wanted to be Daddy's boy.

Then I became a Christian and realized that one can not live a Christian life with hatred dwelling in one's heart. With constant prayer, I began to open up and really tried my best to start forgiving my father. It wasn't easy for everytime I feel good about him, the memories of my late mother came surging into my system and again I blame him for my loss. I knew he was trying to reach out, wanting to be forgiven but there are just so many issues, so many bad feelings that can not simply be ignored. I continued and prayed some more. Just it was God's grace that gave me the will to start forgiving my father, it was also through his miracle that I began to put sense in the so many things that happened to my life which led to the breakthrough of this struggle. One time, I was looking at old things from his cabinet when I found his planner back in 1977. He was still a cadet then and he was my mother's boyfriend. I learned that I was really very much like my father. He kept little notes about the things that happened and like me he was very honest on this notes. Chronicled in that planner was a portion of his love affair with my mother and his feelings. It was through those notes that I finally surrendered all the hatred I had for him. I understood that all the hatred that I harbored was not exactly because of him, it was because I felt unloved and unwanted when he separated with my mother when I was supposed to be Daddy's boy. I thought that he never loved my mother and because of that I was just someone born out of "libog." The things that he did began to make sense. I understood how sorry he was and that he loved me even when I thought he didn't, even when I considered him my enemy.

My father is a living example of how it is to be human. To accept that one commits mistake, takes responsibility for it and redeems himself. To be human is to rectify one's mistake and learn from it. He is an example of a loving father who never ceased to love his children even amidst the most difficult circumstances. He is the perfect example of redemption. He is the manifestation that love really never fails.

In a person's life, we do not always have the best circumstances. There will be so many instances where we have to deal with things that are bad. The challenge of living is to live it to the fullest despite these circumstances and always come out a better person.

To my father, I would like him to know that he is forgiven and that if ever given the chance to live again I would still choose him as my father. I am happier, more loving to people, more patient, more forgiving and above all more amazed of God's power because of him and for that I wouldn't exchange him for anything else in the world.

I LOVE YOU DADDY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY

I sincerely love all muslims

Except for those that I am really close with, not many people know that I love going to church. I became a Christian after I was discharged from the Academy and everyday that I stay here as a is a blessing to me. Every now and then I get to learn things that touch me in a very special way. The little sharing this morning was one of it.

Our guest was a new officer assigned here with us who just came from Lanao. He is founder of a foundation called Project ISLAM (for I sincerely love all muslims). He shared with us a video documentary of this project and how it has affected lives of our muslim brothers. And I was very touched that I wanted to be assigned in Mindanao immediately after graduation to help in that project.

The Project was a brain child of a Christian Pastor by the name of Florentino de Jesus who was deeply concerned with our muslim insurgency. He advocated that the only way to solve this problem is for the Christians to show genuine love to our muslim brothers. He spent 40 years trying to make something out of this vision but it just wasn't time. But this did not mean that his prayers were not heard by God. It was because of his dedication to this vision that one military officer by the name of Col Macaranas was convicted to commit to this cause. And so he did.

In 2000, when the government declared an all out war against the MILF rebels, many muslim communities became helpless victims to the ravages of war. Many of them were displaced and some even lost their lives. Their livelihood was destroyed and they were further shoved deep into poverty. This is where God started to work through Project Islam. In an onbscure town called Debalayan in Lanao Del Norte (or Sur, i'm not sure anymore) a group of soldiers started to rebuild what was destroyed by the war. They rebuilt houses for the muslims, gave clothes and fed them. This was something that the muslims of that community did not really receive so well for they were suspiscious that the Christians just wanted to convert them. The breakthrough came when they built a mosque for the people in that community. As the documentary would put it, it was perhaps the first mosque built by Christians. After this the muslims began to open up and all the suspiscion were lost. Now the Debalayan town is back on its feet but this time has felt the love of Christians. They have come to understand that although they differ in religion, they in fact worship one true God (it will take a lot of time to explain why is this so, maybe next time). Project Islam continues to support the community by sending some of its children to schools so that they can lead their community into further improving their lives.

The message of that project was very simple, that love begets love. War can not be solved by waging war but through its antidote, loving one another. If war is a solution then we certainly could have ended this problem. The example of Project Islam is an illustration of the power of God's love that just changes the heart of people, conquering religious barriers and making this world a better place.

As I said, I was touched by that project and I am thinking of interviewing that officer so that I can write something up for the Corps Magazine to spread the message of Project Islam further. But the message is clear love begets Love