My eyes were flooded with tears as I watched the footages of the wreckage comrade Ondoy brought upon most parts of Luzon. How helpless we are as a nation, with our mediocre ways in responding to national crises such as this.
Inspite of everything, There is always something good in every tragedy. We end up better people if we respond correctly. I think of this as a wake-up call to all Filipinos. It is a good opportunity to think things through so that we will vote wisely in the upcoming elections. I have been glued to the television, flipping through channels waiting incessantly for any presidentiable who will have the guts to include in their platform, perhaps making it a priority, to fix the sewerage systems in Manila and most parts of Luzon. How come I do not hear anything? Where is the noisy barrage that often accompanies elections? Where are the speeches, the promises? Where? Where? Where?
I also got to realize that material things don't matter much as people and the things of God do. I think of lavishly installed kitchen sets, techy gadgets, cars all floating in murky, filth. Comrade Ondoy is not foe, the comrade like Chip Tsao is not to be hated or blamed. It is to be thanked. It helped us reveal how backward we are as a people. Until now, we remain unprepared. I hope we do not go out screaming to the world for help again. How embarassing it is!
Another good thing about all this is the message it sends to middle-class families, a lot of whom are indifferent, uncaring and disengaged to the plight of the common Filipino. These comprise a minority of our youth, young adults who love to don the latest brands, party till the wee hours of the morning, smoke like chimneys and possess above average spending power. There are those who study well or try to earn good living in a decent way too. Their efforts are laudable but they too often forget about the rest of the Philippines. They work hard for a more comfortable life, forgetting that such comfort will never be attained because they are a part of society. They co-exist with other Filipinos. They will always be rooted in a social context where poverty looms.
Comrade Ondoy showed us that tragedy spares no one. It hit all kinds of people. The lowly sweetsweeper, the movie actress, residents of posh communities, homeless families who make their home under the bridge.
And in the end of all end, all these material things mean nothing.
For those who have a faint understanding of the fight for the Philippines will from now on, do things for a deeper reason. In the process of building ourselves, carry on our shoulders the rest of the millions of the Filipinos here and outside the country.
The brown raise.
hi, this is my storybook page. just everyday humdrum,ho-hum...my thoughts...my thinkalouds...my walkabouts...my everyday musings...as a child of God
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
God's will
Too often we christians think that our main goal in life is to win souls for God. Its as if He is constantly sending us out on errands and making us finish one chore after another. And this devotion spoke to me loud and clear-its never what I want to do for God, even it seems to be the most good or Godly thing to do. It's all about His will for me.
My Utmost for His Highest-
September 23, 200
The Missionary’s Goal
He . . . said to them, ’Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem . . . ’ —Luke 18:31
In our natural life our ambitions change as we grow, but in the Christian life the goal is given at the very beginning, and the beginning and the end are exactly the same, namely, our Lord Himself. We start with Christ and we end with Him?". . . till we all come . . . to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ . . ." ( Ephesians 4:13 ), not simply to our own idea of what the Christian life should be. The goal of the missionary is to do God’s will, not to be useful or to win the lost. A missionary is useful and he does win the lost, but that is not his goal. His goal is to do the will of his Lord.
In our Lord’s life, Jerusalem was the place where He reached the culmination of His Father’s will upon the cross, and unless we go there with Jesus we will have no friendship or fellowship with Him. Nothing ever diverted our Lord on His way to Jerusalem. He never hurried through certain villages where He was persecuted, or lingered in others where He was blessed. Neither gratitude nor ingratitude turned our Lord even the slightest degree away from His purpose to go "up to Jerusalem."
"A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master" ( Matthew 10:24 ). In other words, the same things that happened to our Lord will happen to us on our way to our "Jerusalem." There will be works of God exhibited through us, people will get blessed, and one or two will show gratitude while the rest will show total ingratitude, but nothing must divert us from going "up to [our] Jerusalem."
". . . there they crucified Him . . ." ( Luke 23:33 ). That is what happened when our Lord reached Jerusalem, and that event is the doorway to our salvation. The saints, however, do not end in crucifixion; by the Lord’s grace they end in glory. In the meantime our watchword should be summed up by each of us saying, "I too go ’up to Jerusalem.’ "
My Utmost for His Highest-
September 23, 200
The Missionary’s Goal
He . . . said to them, ’Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem . . . ’ —Luke 18:31
In our natural life our ambitions change as we grow, but in the Christian life the goal is given at the very beginning, and the beginning and the end are exactly the same, namely, our Lord Himself. We start with Christ and we end with Him?". . . till we all come . . . to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ . . ." ( Ephesians 4:13 ), not simply to our own idea of what the Christian life should be. The goal of the missionary is to do God’s will, not to be useful or to win the lost. A missionary is useful and he does win the lost, but that is not his goal. His goal is to do the will of his Lord.
In our Lord’s life, Jerusalem was the place where He reached the culmination of His Father’s will upon the cross, and unless we go there with Jesus we will have no friendship or fellowship with Him. Nothing ever diverted our Lord on His way to Jerusalem. He never hurried through certain villages where He was persecuted, or lingered in others where He was blessed. Neither gratitude nor ingratitude turned our Lord even the slightest degree away from His purpose to go "up to Jerusalem."
"A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master" ( Matthew 10:24 ). In other words, the same things that happened to our Lord will happen to us on our way to our "Jerusalem." There will be works of God exhibited through us, people will get blessed, and one or two will show gratitude while the rest will show total ingratitude, but nothing must divert us from going "up to [our] Jerusalem."
". . . there they crucified Him . . ." ( Luke 23:33 ). That is what happened when our Lord reached Jerusalem, and that event is the doorway to our salvation. The saints, however, do not end in crucifixion; by the Lord’s grace they end in glory. In the meantime our watchword should be summed up by each of us saying, "I too go ’up to Jerusalem.’ "
God's will
My Utmost for His Highest
September 23, 2009
The Missionary’s Goal
He . . . said to them, ’Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem . . . ’ —Luke 18:31
In our natural life our ambitions change as we grow, but in the Christian life the goal is given at the very beginning, and the beginning and the end are exactly the same, namely, our Lord Himself. We start with Christ and we end with Him?". . . till we all come . . . to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ . . ." ( Ephesians 4:13 ), not simply to our own idea of what the Christian life should be. The goal of the missionary is to do God’s will, not to be useful or to win the lost. A missionary is useful and he does win the lost, but that is not his goal. His goal is to do the will of his Lord.
In our Lord’s life, Jerusalem was the place where He reached the culmination of His Father’s will upon the cross, and unless we go there with Jesus we will have no friendship or fellowship with Him. Nothing ever diverted our Lord on His way to Jerusalem. He never hurried through certain villages where He was persecuted, or lingered in others where He was blessed. Neither gratitude nor ingratitude turned our Lord even the slightest degree away from His purpose to go "up to Jerusalem."
"A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master" ( Matthew 10:24 ). In other words, the same things that happened to our Lord will happen to us on our way to our "Jerusalem." There will be works of God exhibited through us, people will get blessed, and one or two will show gratitude while the rest will show total ingratitude, but nothing must divert us from going "up to [our] Jerusalem."
". . . there they crucified Him . . ." ( Luke 23:33 ). That is what happened when our Lord reached Jerusalem, and that event is the doorway to our salvation. The saints, however, do not end in crucifixion; by the Lord’s grace they end in glory. In the meantime our watchword should be summed up by each of us saying, "I too go ’up to Jerusalem.’ "
September 23, 2009
The Missionary’s Goal
He . . . said to them, ’Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem . . . ’ —Luke 18:31
In our natural life our ambitions change as we grow, but in the Christian life the goal is given at the very beginning, and the beginning and the end are exactly the same, namely, our Lord Himself. We start with Christ and we end with Him?". . . till we all come . . . to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ . . ." ( Ephesians 4:13 ), not simply to our own idea of what the Christian life should be. The goal of the missionary is to do God’s will, not to be useful or to win the lost. A missionary is useful and he does win the lost, but that is not his goal. His goal is to do the will of his Lord.
In our Lord’s life, Jerusalem was the place where He reached the culmination of His Father’s will upon the cross, and unless we go there with Jesus we will have no friendship or fellowship with Him. Nothing ever diverted our Lord on His way to Jerusalem. He never hurried through certain villages where He was persecuted, or lingered in others where He was blessed. Neither gratitude nor ingratitude turned our Lord even the slightest degree away from His purpose to go "up to Jerusalem."
"A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master" ( Matthew 10:24 ). In other words, the same things that happened to our Lord will happen to us on our way to our "Jerusalem." There will be works of God exhibited through us, people will get blessed, and one or two will show gratitude while the rest will show total ingratitude, but nothing must divert us from going "up to [our] Jerusalem."
". . . there they crucified Him . . ." ( Luke 23:33 ). That is what happened when our Lord reached Jerusalem, and that event is the doorway to our salvation. The saints, however, do not end in crucifixion; by the Lord’s grace they end in glory. In the meantime our watchword should be summed up by each of us saying, "I too go ’up to Jerusalem.’ "
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Guilty...
I taught kindergarten for almost seven years before making that decision to leave and focus on my masters. This two-year journey is far from ordinary. It was an unmasking of the real state of my country. I know we are third world. I read the news, I watch it on TV. I was enraged with Chip Tsao, I wanted to smack Alec Baldwin and Teri Hatcher for their racist, demeaning remarks. I wanted to hate myself for feeling a bit inferior in the presence of my English aunt.
I went odd-job hopping to sustain my schooling needs and of course, contribute a bit at home. It was an adventure but at the same time, It was a heart-wrenching compilation of tales. Each day, I wanted to cross the streets with eyes closed so I will be blind to the realities of my country. I wanted to be unfeeling so that my heart will not be gripped with the sights and sounds that ring a message so strongly in my ears. Everything was vividly happening around me while I stood in its midst- the disengaged,indifferent, uncaring Filipino.
I saw it in the long queues of college graduates applying for meager pay to work as phone English teachers. Most of those I happened to chat with were teachers. For reasons only they can explain, they did not dare to practice their profession, and chose to settle for pay in exchange for speaking English over the phone while our schools are screaming for teachers.
I had a brief stint with an editing company based in Hongkong. Our private offices were in the comforts of our own home in front of our PC and we met the boss and his wife occasionally, whenever he flew to Manila. We were gathered once a month in the five-star hotel where he was booked for updates, distribution of paychecks and pizza. It was obviously, an illegal, non-registered company in the Philippines. We were a pool of editors in the Philippines who pose as native speakers, or more appropriately, native writers. Our work, in connivance with the big boss entails editing personal statements, application letters, recommendation letters of Chinese students who seek admission to Ivy League universities in the U.S. and in the U.K. You would be surprised with the top caliber colleagues I rubbed elbows with. There was a medical doctor from where else but from the top state university, brilliant writers for respected newspapers, two university professors, an accountant, a movie producer, a Sociology major, another university professor who took Masters in Europe and the list goes on. Modesty aside, it was a group of academic elites. I wonder now, why I was there, and what we were all doing there. I met a former colleague, a first level editor who was fired by the big boss. He was not able to dispatch last minute files simply because he was in the hospital, in a coma at that. He was requesting for seperation pay, and the American refused at the start, he told him he would report illegal operation and the American retorted saying, "you squeal but first tell your Filipino friends that they are about to lose their jobs.."
I left after a month. I knew something was fishy and God in His goodness, was already ordering my immediate world, waving the red flag right in front of my face. My internet connection was acting up during that entire month. I had to keep going out to meet my deadlines in 24-hour Internet cafes until the wee hours of the morning.
It has been a year if I remember it right and the American boss' right hand guy in the Philippines died. They drank together. Few people know how my heart broke for this man. When I saw him for the first time, I knew right away he was troubled and a walking timebomb at that. I learned later on that he lives with a companion and has long been separated from his wife with whom he fathered two grown-up boys. He happens to be the son of a very famous writer of Filipino short stories of the 60's and 70's. I could not sleep that night when I learned about his demise. The diagnosis was a heart problem. My suspicions were confirmed. His heart had been seriously ticking ill for a long time and it ticked its last for good that fateful day he breathed his last.
The biggest blow in all these two years was when I was doing research for my paper I had to write in one of the biggest public schools in the Philippines. I was crying almost everyday, either on my way going there or going back home. Early on, I stumbled upon Gilas' website to discover staggering statistics: 90% of Filipino schoolchildren go to public school. I could hardly breathe. I felt like I was being suffocated right that very instant. My face was bathed in tears at an instant for I now know too well the state of our public school system. I did come from one but it was different back then. There were only a few of us. We had a chair each and there was hide-and-seek space inside the classroom. I belonged to the cream section beginning grade two until I graduated seventh place in sixth grade. My mother is not your ordinary mother. She reads, writes and speaks fluent English and Filipino. Her Spanish has become rusty through the years but every now and then she say a line or two. Our poverty never made her succumb to cheap substitutes. You never see her watch soap operas or watch news on gossip. She is one of a kind. I may have come from public school but I was and am blessed to have a different kind of mother. I think of the rest who are as poor as we were, unpriveleged to have a mother as mine.
And so I feel guilty. Guilty for being too preoccupied with my own comforts, dreams and ambitions and unmindful of my country's shameful plight. God had mercy on me as He opened my eyes to the real score of things. Now I do things for deeper reason. I choose to burden myself with the things that God burdens Himself with about my country.
I went odd-job hopping to sustain my schooling needs and of course, contribute a bit at home. It was an adventure but at the same time, It was a heart-wrenching compilation of tales. Each day, I wanted to cross the streets with eyes closed so I will be blind to the realities of my country. I wanted to be unfeeling so that my heart will not be gripped with the sights and sounds that ring a message so strongly in my ears. Everything was vividly happening around me while I stood in its midst- the disengaged,indifferent, uncaring Filipino.
I saw it in the long queues of college graduates applying for meager pay to work as phone English teachers. Most of those I happened to chat with were teachers. For reasons only they can explain, they did not dare to practice their profession, and chose to settle for pay in exchange for speaking English over the phone while our schools are screaming for teachers.
I had a brief stint with an editing company based in Hongkong. Our private offices were in the comforts of our own home in front of our PC and we met the boss and his wife occasionally, whenever he flew to Manila. We were gathered once a month in the five-star hotel where he was booked for updates, distribution of paychecks and pizza. It was obviously, an illegal, non-registered company in the Philippines. We were a pool of editors in the Philippines who pose as native speakers, or more appropriately, native writers. Our work, in connivance with the big boss entails editing personal statements, application letters, recommendation letters of Chinese students who seek admission to Ivy League universities in the U.S. and in the U.K. You would be surprised with the top caliber colleagues I rubbed elbows with. There was a medical doctor from where else but from the top state university, brilliant writers for respected newspapers, two university professors, an accountant, a movie producer, a Sociology major, another university professor who took Masters in Europe and the list goes on. Modesty aside, it was a group of academic elites. I wonder now, why I was there, and what we were all doing there. I met a former colleague, a first level editor who was fired by the big boss. He was not able to dispatch last minute files simply because he was in the hospital, in a coma at that. He was requesting for seperation pay, and the American refused at the start, he told him he would report illegal operation and the American retorted saying, "you squeal but first tell your Filipino friends that they are about to lose their jobs.."
I left after a month. I knew something was fishy and God in His goodness, was already ordering my immediate world, waving the red flag right in front of my face. My internet connection was acting up during that entire month. I had to keep going out to meet my deadlines in 24-hour Internet cafes until the wee hours of the morning.
It has been a year if I remember it right and the American boss' right hand guy in the Philippines died. They drank together. Few people know how my heart broke for this man. When I saw him for the first time, I knew right away he was troubled and a walking timebomb at that. I learned later on that he lives with a companion and has long been separated from his wife with whom he fathered two grown-up boys. He happens to be the son of a very famous writer of Filipino short stories of the 60's and 70's. I could not sleep that night when I learned about his demise. The diagnosis was a heart problem. My suspicions were confirmed. His heart had been seriously ticking ill for a long time and it ticked its last for good that fateful day he breathed his last.
The biggest blow in all these two years was when I was doing research for my paper I had to write in one of the biggest public schools in the Philippines. I was crying almost everyday, either on my way going there or going back home. Early on, I stumbled upon Gilas' website to discover staggering statistics: 90% of Filipino schoolchildren go to public school. I could hardly breathe. I felt like I was being suffocated right that very instant. My face was bathed in tears at an instant for I now know too well the state of our public school system. I did come from one but it was different back then. There were only a few of us. We had a chair each and there was hide-and-seek space inside the classroom. I belonged to the cream section beginning grade two until I graduated seventh place in sixth grade. My mother is not your ordinary mother. She reads, writes and speaks fluent English and Filipino. Her Spanish has become rusty through the years but every now and then she say a line or two. Our poverty never made her succumb to cheap substitutes. You never see her watch soap operas or watch news on gossip. She is one of a kind. I may have come from public school but I was and am blessed to have a different kind of mother. I think of the rest who are as poor as we were, unpriveleged to have a mother as mine.
And so I feel guilty. Guilty for being too preoccupied with my own comforts, dreams and ambitions and unmindful of my country's shameful plight. God had mercy on me as He opened my eyes to the real score of things. Now I do things for deeper reason. I choose to burden myself with the things that God burdens Himself with about my country.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Chasing the Blues Away
Its late Sunday afternoon and nobody's home. Its dimly lit downstairs and only the sofa lights are switched on to fight the creeping darkness of the night. Here Iam upstairs in the bedroom as I sit in front of my trusted confidante-this PC keeps me company as I have no one to talk to right now. I try to talk to my soul and so, I am playing youtube music as I type. I was reading a while ago. Thanks to the library folks who graciously extended permission for us to return the book at a much later date than expected. I put my book down on the sofa. I must be halfway, I felt like turning back to some chapters I want to sink myself more into. I am reading on meditation.
How much I need God! I want to know God more. I want to withdraw myself from the froth and bubble of everyday, if I may borrow the author's words. I long to listen, cock my ears to that still voice that will quiet my longings, answer my questions, assure me of my apprehensions and fill my soul with quiet content. Not in my own strength. Never in my own power. I believe God sees my desires. Inspite of the bad aroma my attitude diffuses every now and then. I wrestle at the evils lurking in my mind and in my heart Lord. I wish my heart were unfeeling, unthinking of all these negativity. I wish I would stop inflicting unnecessary emotional burdens to anyone with my stinky thinking, my better than thou demeanor, my quick to judge presumptions.
Father, this post has become a prayer altogether. I plead Thee for a changed heart. And as I pray this, I know too well that You will choose to answer in ways I do not comprehend. But Lord, if there is anything that gets in the way of my being a blessing to others, do take it away, take it away! It tears me altogether, knowing too well that I am being a pain, a bitch at times. They do not deserve it Lord. Father, I beg of You. I know that You will answer in Your goodness, mercy and love.
My heart is kneeling right now, in complete surrender for Lord, I cannot change apart from You. Please break the wall between my and my sister-in-law. How we need to be a bit closer, not for us, but for her mother-in-law who does know You yet.
I whimper, my tears are streaming down my cheeks.
Lord I can do all things through Christ which gives me strength.
Blued, Blued Away....
How much I need God! I want to know God more. I want to withdraw myself from the froth and bubble of everyday, if I may borrow the author's words. I long to listen, cock my ears to that still voice that will quiet my longings, answer my questions, assure me of my apprehensions and fill my soul with quiet content. Not in my own strength. Never in my own power. I believe God sees my desires. Inspite of the bad aroma my attitude diffuses every now and then. I wrestle at the evils lurking in my mind and in my heart Lord. I wish my heart were unfeeling, unthinking of all these negativity. I wish I would stop inflicting unnecessary emotional burdens to anyone with my stinky thinking, my better than thou demeanor, my quick to judge presumptions.
Father, this post has become a prayer altogether. I plead Thee for a changed heart. And as I pray this, I know too well that You will choose to answer in ways I do not comprehend. But Lord, if there is anything that gets in the way of my being a blessing to others, do take it away, take it away! It tears me altogether, knowing too well that I am being a pain, a bitch at times. They do not deserve it Lord. Father, I beg of You. I know that You will answer in Your goodness, mercy and love.
My heart is kneeling right now, in complete surrender for Lord, I cannot change apart from You. Please break the wall between my and my sister-in-law. How we need to be a bit closer, not for us, but for her mother-in-law who does know You yet.
I whimper, my tears are streaming down my cheeks.
Lord I can do all things through Christ which gives me strength.
Blued, Blued Away....
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Cursed is the man who trusts in man!
Psalms 118:8 It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man back to back with “I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things which thou knowest not.” - Jer 33:3
Its hard to keep track of your heart and feel each pulse. And I know too well that the heart is deceitful above all. Recently an old friend, also a colleague told me that she wants to sponsor my fare once they settle down in Australia, just in case I would like to go on a vacation. Its a bit heartwarming And whether or not it comes to pass, the desire to invite me is touching. Ive known them and a lot about their family background since college. God, in His goodness, allowed me to share His love concretely with them during their most distressing period. Their life was a long dark tunnel. And now, light can be seen as they are almost at its end.
They have heartbreaking stories, the soap opera kind which I thought could only exixt in movies alone. I was wrong. I praise God for the things He has done in their families, a new chapter has dawned in their lives.
I too have a share of these episodes and God in His extraordinary mercies changes the channel so that I would not stay long glued to one episode. He shields me from such unnecessary looking back.
So I write this, I remember the verse, "Cursed be the man who trusts in man."
My love my prayers go with them always. And whether or not they reciprocate, any observable goodness in any act in what I did for them in the past, or even until now is something God prompted me to do, I remember that everything I did for them I did for God and God alone.
Dear God, I pray You bless their family as I finish my post for the day. Bless them beyond their wildest dreams. Help all the siblings finish school. Lord thank You because I was able to share the gospel with her sister when she was a struggling teen-ager back in college. Lord take care of her and her walk in You. Help them all find a church where they can grow in the things of You.
I pray for her mom's relationship with their new stepdad. Please make things work out. Please help the siblings to be always close to each other. May they always remember Your faithfulness in their lives. May their gaze always be only upon You Jesus. May they not be mesmerized with the material things they are about to be flooded with. Lord, may Your tug and pull at their hearts overshadow every tangible good their new life will offer.
In Your Name,
Amen
Its hard to keep track of your heart and feel each pulse. And I know too well that the heart is deceitful above all. Recently an old friend, also a colleague told me that she wants to sponsor my fare once they settle down in Australia, just in case I would like to go on a vacation. Its a bit heartwarming And whether or not it comes to pass, the desire to invite me is touching. Ive known them and a lot about their family background since college. God, in His goodness, allowed me to share His love concretely with them during their most distressing period. Their life was a long dark tunnel. And now, light can be seen as they are almost at its end.
They have heartbreaking stories, the soap opera kind which I thought could only exixt in movies alone. I was wrong. I praise God for the things He has done in their families, a new chapter has dawned in their lives.
I too have a share of these episodes and God in His extraordinary mercies changes the channel so that I would not stay long glued to one episode. He shields me from such unnecessary looking back.
So I write this, I remember the verse, "Cursed be the man who trusts in man."
My love my prayers go with them always. And whether or not they reciprocate, any observable goodness in any act in what I did for them in the past, or even until now is something God prompted me to do, I remember that everything I did for them I did for God and God alone.
Dear God, I pray You bless their family as I finish my post for the day. Bless them beyond their wildest dreams. Help all the siblings finish school. Lord thank You because I was able to share the gospel with her sister when she was a struggling teen-ager back in college. Lord take care of her and her walk in You. Help them all find a church where they can grow in the things of You.
I pray for her mom's relationship with their new stepdad. Please make things work out. Please help the siblings to be always close to each other. May they always remember Your faithfulness in their lives. May their gaze always be only upon You Jesus. May they not be mesmerized with the material things they are about to be flooded with. Lord, may Your tug and pull at their hearts overshadow every tangible good their new life will offer.
In Your Name,
Amen
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Odd Jobs Hopping
Its been almost two years since my last traditional full-time job. Meaning, I have not been on the 15th, 30th day payroll for quite a while. And what a roller-coaster ride it is. I learned so many things. Savored life more. And am continuing to discover a lot of things an 8-5 job in the classroom prevented me from doing so. I do want to return to my teaching. And I am still figuring out where and when. Obviously, its when I finish my masters, which is hopefully soon.
I just realize that teaching is more than knowing the how to's but more importantly, imparting yourself to your students. And therefore, the teacher should have a lot of wonderful experiences in life to share. Anybody can easily learn how to teach reading, arithmetic or penmanship. But what about the zest for life? What about the desire to innately learn or the curiosity for things unknown? I believe these tools are necessary in helping us become more actualized human beings. And therefore, become more useful and productive members of the community.
It is the passion for discovery alongside discipline that would create champions.
And you cannot just teach that. You have to impart it. Meaning, you ought to be overflowing with to the brim so that your students will naturally catch it.
Perhaps I should create a new folder here. Yes. I think I will call it Teacher Chronicles.And why not.
So when was the last time you did something for the first time? Its the tagline of an airline,the name of which escapes me right now.
And dear reader, you ought to ask yourself that.
Its faith you know. Its living life to the fullest. He came that we may have life, and life to the fullest.
Have a great life!
I just realize that teaching is more than knowing the how to's but more importantly, imparting yourself to your students. And therefore, the teacher should have a lot of wonderful experiences in life to share. Anybody can easily learn how to teach reading, arithmetic or penmanship. But what about the zest for life? What about the desire to innately learn or the curiosity for things unknown? I believe these tools are necessary in helping us become more actualized human beings. And therefore, become more useful and productive members of the community.
It is the passion for discovery alongside discipline that would create champions.
And you cannot just teach that. You have to impart it. Meaning, you ought to be overflowing with to the brim so that your students will naturally catch it.
Perhaps I should create a new folder here. Yes. I think I will call it Teacher Chronicles.And why not.
So when was the last time you did something for the first time? Its the tagline of an airline,the name of which escapes me right now.
And dear reader, you ought to ask yourself that.
Its faith you know. Its living life to the fullest. He came that we may have life, and life to the fullest.
Have a great life!