As I sit and ponder my path,
I understand why I went through
the darkness.

As I sit and observe the vast sky,
I understand why I fall in love
with the awe-inspiring beauty.

As I sit and listen to my heart,
I understand why I didn't believe
in love.

As I sit and reflect,
I understand my life's journey,
the lessons, and myself.

What a gift,
to be alive,
to feel alive.

Di niyo ba alam
na nang pasimula ay nilikha ng Diyos
ang langit at ang lupa?
Na ang mundong ito'y
Kanyang binigyan ng hugis at anyo
gamit lamang ang mga salitang
dumaan sa Kanyang bibig?
Na nung sinabi Niyang, "Magkaroon ng liwanag!"
Nagkaroon nga.

Di niyo ba alam
na kaya Niyang humarang
sa agos ng dagat,
ipaawit ang mga bituin,
ipaluhod ang bulubundukin?

Di niyo ba alam
na ang kapangyarihan na ito,
ang kapangyarihang ginamit Niya
para ibuo ang mga planeta,
ang kapangyarihang ginamit Niya
para tigilan ang pag-akyat ng buwan
nung lumalaban sina Joshua,
ang kapangyarihang ginamit Niya
para bigyan muli ng buhay ang yumao
ay nasa
atin
din?

Ito
ang Kanyang pangako:
Na tayo'y binigyan ng kapangyarihang
tapakan ang mga ahas at ang lahat ng kapangyarihan
ng ating kaaway

Di
niyo ba
alam na
may kapangyarihan sa pagsamba
sa Kanya?

Di niyo ba alam
na nung ikapitong ikot
sa ikapitong araw,
mga trumpeta at boses ng Kanyang mga anak
ang ginamit ng Diyos para ibagsak ang Jerico?

Sumigaw na tayo sapagkat
nasa atin na ang tagumpay
Sumigaw na tayo sapagkat
sa Kanyang pangalan ang pag-asa ng mundo
sa Kanyang pangalan,
lumiliwanag ang dilim
sa Kanyang pangalan,
lahat ng takot ay nadadaig

Sambahin natin ang Panginoon
ng buong galak
ng buong puso
nanginginig at mga demonyo
sa pangalan ni Hesus
tumutumba ang mga harang ng impyerno
sa pangalan ni Hesus

Tayo'y magkaisa,
itaas ang mga kamay
tayo'y magkaisa,
itaas ang iyong boses gaya ng mga trumpeta
tayo'y magkaisa

Sambahin natin ang Diyos na buhay,
ang Diyos na dakila!

Could it be that, for every year since
the day you stopped knocking

I have noiselessly slid in
a stopper, a stone, a slipper

Mistaking your reaching for the key
as a challenge, not a warning?

I've patted myself on the back
for making it out (but with a foot by the corner)

Just in case you one day decide to swing wide
and that I'm worth a thank you, come again.

Brother,
For the days we have known each other,
I have come to the conclusion that there
Is something wrong with your eyes, because
Where you see brokenness, I see strength
Holding all your pieces together.
Where you see scars, I see tattoos of triumph,
Stories of how you fought,
Stories of how you lived each battle through.
Where you see ugly, I see beauty in places
You refuse to turn your head to, why
Won’t you turn your head to see
How I see you?
See, you have seen far too many hellos
And even more goodbyes to believe
That I am here to stay.
And I
Am here to stay.

Brother, my hands are here to catch
Whatever falls out of your storms.
I myself have been a storm far too many times
To run away when your rains start to pour.
My feet are ready to come chasing after you
When you stray too far away from home,
And as long as there is breath in my lungs
I swear I will never let you stay lost.
Because I
Am here to stay.

Till the day the world runs out of will to spin one more round,
Till the day the waves stop running back to shore,
Till the day mother and father and sister and brother forget each other’s faces,
Till the day of judgment,
Till the day of blood and trial,
Till the day of denial,
I will stay.
I will stay.
I will stay.

It’s not just on sunny days that I thank the saltwaters for washing you ashore. But it was sunny that day I was walking barefoot on the beach, thinking it all looks the same.

Sun. Sand. Sky. Sea.

But then,
I saw you.

It could have been anyone else. Do you realize how much you look like the rest from afar? But in my eyes, the light seemed to only bounce off you. I could have walked on, but for some reason I stopped. And I’m glad I did stop. Long enough to pick you up, long enough to feel every rise and every fall, long enough to run my fingers over all the places sand somehow found its way into, all the edges, sharp and rough, that sometimes hurt the hands that hold you, and you sometimes hurt me but

Don’t wish to be washed away just because you have.

I know you wonder why on earth you’re still ashore. I know you love the sun, but sometimes its rays cast too much shadows that whisper darkened daydreams of blue embraces, and you’ve tried resting in its arms once or twice. I know you get tired of the ocean and how the waters break against your back day after day, but know that each time they do, a piece of your past chips off. A bit of weakness is made strong. The ocean is shaping you and it isn’t done with you just yet.

Don’t forget this.

I hope that you don’t see yourself as leftovers. Who hasn’t had someone leave them before? You are more than something that was left behind. You are not its ghost. There is beauty in the way you’ve kept your shell, in the way you still hold against the currents, in the way you refuse to let wind and weather steal your colors. But maybe you don’t know it. Or maybe you’ve been waiting for another pair of eyes and hands to see it for you.

But I see it. I do. I’m not the perfect pair of eyes and hands, but I hope you’ll let me help you make it through.

There are still so many sunny days we’ve yet to walk in.

Watch this woman.

See how she comes in with the sun on her face, every wrinkle is a mark made by golden drops, each line a story of a time she laughed, stories she probably can't remember but will try to tell anyway.

See those hips and how they sway. Those hips are strong enough to carry centuries of culture, and she's closer to a hundred than she is to fifty, but if you ask about her dancing days you'll see those hips still know exactly where they're supposed to be. Believe me, I've asked. That afternoon, we spent a good hour twirling our wrists to invisible Spanish-sounding guitars, feet darting across imaginary bamboo poles, gracefully closing the gaps between generations. I wonder if this is what she'd like to do in eternity.

Watch this woman.

See her hands, how they are always so full yet also always so empty. What she's holding never stays with her for long. This is how she loves. Her hands know nothing else but to love. Her hands love me when they pack my favorite food into plastic Tupperware for me to take home, her hands love me when they do their magic mending on the rips and tears in my clothes, her hands love me when they insist on doing dishes so I don't have to, her hands love me when they show me which ingredients to pour into a bowl so I can have her bread pudding anytime. This woman's hands could feed armies and she does it like everyday's tomorrow is a final battle.

See her eyes, how God must have placed diamonds instead when He made them. See how they twinkle whenever someone she loves enters the room, how they glitter whenever someone she loves speaks. See how clear are the tears that so easily flow from them, how all it takes is a single tug at her heart for it to become a spring. See how pride gleams from them whenever she travels miles north to watch this woman.

And Lola, this woman wants you to know that she watches you. And she sees you and her love for you often leaves her without words, except right now. And this woman wishes she's got numberless days left to watch you, but for now she says let's keep watching each other, until the day comes we are both dancing before the face of eternity.

Tell me once more that my faith is blinding,
and I will show you the shadows
that have stayed by my side all these days,
recite to you every word
Fear has whispered in my sleep,
point out every drop of rain, yet

my eyes will still gleam with the dawn I see
breaking behind the clouds.