50-50

coming soon!

Veranda

Views taken from my Veranda

Not a single night or day, for as long as I’m around would fail indulging this place – my favorite spot at home – an open access to the neighborhood where words aren’t needed to explain motions and goings-on; a perfect location to adore sunrise and sunset including countless moonlights; a cramped space where I’m the weather forecaster of my own – all these in my tiny veranda.   

It’s not an ideal type one elegant or picky or malcontent or disgruntled person could have, but for me who live by grace is a jackpot.  And for a guy who likes watching high-rise buildings and different house structures from a distance, just a teeny weeny porch would do. I don’t need to go to crowded vicinities to slake my amazement – got it all right here.

It’s neither an idyllic one.

What do you expect for such a cheap rent?

Yet I am extremely pleasant with a cup of coffee, and sometimes tea in my hand realizing that not everyone has the same privilege. After all happiness is not the presence of up-to-the-minute stuff around, it’s a choice. 

Yet I’ve learned to appreciate the simplicity it brings in the absence of what others consider true beauty. Noticing the unnoticed is not what people give each day, but if your heart is filled with gratefulness, then you’d always find every little thing worth praising and thanking still.  

Yet I’ve become accustomed to the noise I hear each day while sitting in my veranda – even with the most annoying honk in the middle of the night from an insensitive neighbor – a sound that steals away someone’s tranquility. Anyway, I was taught that peace is not the presence of silence but a state of mind instead.

A veranda is still a veranda and it has nothing to do with anything that is happening around whether it’s pleasant or beautiful or peaceful or not all.

Cambridge Advanced Learner’s Dictionary defines idyllic as extremely pleasant, beautiful or peaceful referring to a place or experience. And so none of these descriptions matches how my veranda is like. It doesn’t matter because I love it so much.

“Enormous” wouldn’t be the right utterance or an idea expressed in spoken words regarding this favorite corner of mine, but this is where I dream awake, think a lot, plan ahead, and design things well – the biggest stuff one can ever imagine. And so I cherish this minuscule place where my current life’s story is happening at the moment.

Right in this veranda where I shed tears for countless times when drought was seemingly unbearable – where I’ve prayed fervently more than anyone else – in hushed and audible voice.

Along with my pen and notebook, I poured out my silent cries here – when tears were just too dry to come out; and when I had no one to talk to. There in those silent cries each story of God’s goodness, grace, mercy, love, kindness, and faithfulness is revealed.

Rain or shine, I stargaze from my veranda every night to feel relaxed and serene. This is what usually I do before kissing the night goodbye.

In season or out of season, this is where I drink my morning coffee and with a praiseful heart to welcome another day.

I dry my laundry here to get natural heat from the sun or the blowing wind – to remind me that man doesn’t live in high technology alone – the Creator has given us free resources to enjoy life still.

Lastly, this is where I cool down at night or day time if necessary when the sun isn’t that friendly at times. 

Thank God for this veranda!

Here are some photos of my daughters from the village visiting taken from my veranda...  

Grace Amidst Violence

Even in my dream I had to flee and run for my life – a post trauma effect which I never had in the past – a disturbing paranoia from one’s violent act. To be watchful, to be vigilant, and to be stronger than ever before from this intimidating attack – then I’d be forced to fight back protecting myself in case another assault happens. Help me, God!

This psychotic man has been a miscreant, a big loser even with the past teachers. No one could stand his temper or ego or his lousy behavior. The teachers and all the volunteers had to evade from his unbearable presence. And so did this little man (me) as the newest victim as far as I know.

I have featured him once two months ago in my effort to protect my children in the village; a fake philanthropist whose intention but evil desire sexually harassing some of the kids. We all knew it, and I was the last one to know. 

“Come on, is this what I get for running away from trouble?” I murmured in pain falling from the bicycle.

The onrush happened exactly a week ago after teaching my late evening class. He had been harassing me, sending threat messages, and disturbing me a lot of times prior to this. Like a timid creature in disguise, he was standing outside our school. The moment he saw me, he was transformed quickly into a hungry hyena ready to devour his prey.

As a normal reaction, I tried to ignore him and did what I was taught about – to avoid as much as necessary – I thought would help. When I noticed his strange move, I pedaled my bike immediately as fast as I could in the middle of a busy, main road to save my life; and for another chance to live. I could hear him screaming violently, freaking out crazily, cursing and cussing endlessly, and running after me as fast as he could to hurt me or maybe wanted me dead.

When I was away, and became invisible in his presence, that’s when another careless motorbike rider ruined my day – I fell from my bicycle wounded and bleeding.

A man in his thirty's behaving such things? I haven't seen such a British guy like this in my entire life - only here and only him so far. I wonder how he is like back in his country. It chills me to the bone.

Thanks to my supportive boss, and to the rest of the staff for the support they had during this awful situation.We had done our best to pacify the incident and made every possible way for a truce, even if I'm faultless.

Unfortunately, I don't trust him and so I'm always careful about what this insane man can do. It is better safe than sorry, I was told. I've been constantly telling my self and others that I'd be forced to fight back in case the same thing happens again - not that I hate him or want him dead, but purely self-defense.
   

At first, I wanted to just keep it here and didn't bother to tell my family and friends back home. That wasn't a good idea, I know. More than all this hazardous concern, just didn't want to talk about him because he isn't worth writing or mentioning at all. But rest assured I wasn't in total silence and told my friends here instead about this attempted murder. They have been praying for me. Thanks for the prayers.

As I was preparing my lesson the other day, I happened to browse a page in one of the books - a slogan which gave me the courage to stand up against violence - a memo of God's strength - a sufficient grace in the midst of violence.

And in this grace I am reminded to respond in love and not in hatred. That's so human tendency to be filled with anger and hate after all these things, but then as God's child I understand that it shouldn't be counterfeited this way except for preliminary measures putting the matters legally for the sake of everybody's peace.  

And in this grace I am exhorted of to trust in Him who sees every little danger rather than do it my way. Of course, I have to watch and pray.

And in this slogan, a provision of grace is where I took the boldness to put all my thoughts into writing - my worries and fears, every bit of paranoia, being a victor, and so my thanksgiving and praise for the safety each single moment.   

For thirteen years away from home, I never had such serious craziness like this one, not even an accident. But again, it is in this someone's insanity I have come to fully grasp the feeling of being assaulted, threatened to death, a victim of violence, a prisoner of fear and silence, and being weak to fight for the truth - not anymore.

Above all this, I have learned to cry for more mercy and grace.

Traveling Mercy

As far as I understand, traveling mercy doesn’t seclude someone only in need of a protection or for having a sound trip, but it comes alongside with the provision and pleasure to reach a destination.

Almost all my life is spent in traveling, and so I can testify from this vista – a traveler’s need more than just tips and guides – to perceive mercy above all one like me should know.

I have been going in and out of this country a lot these past months – to learn deeply the grace of a Provider; to discover clearly the hands of a Protector; above all these, to be in a constant awe for the many surprises along the way.

It takes richness to be in this journey, but it only took me faith to live such privilege – an endless opening of doors to enjoy each trip – where everything wasn’t just a paper a way, but trusting the Father for all these blessings.

Thanks to friends for not sparing their homes and for sharing portions of their blessings to a passerby like me. I’m thankful especially to my Sustainer for bringing the right people to welcome me in during those travels that I may have a place to stay… and more. This is traveling mercy.

Now I’m back in Cambodia, but even then, surprises never stop as far as traveling is the talk of the day. Whether it’s a far distance or not, it doesn’t matter for it is always accompanied with mercy and grace.

Last week, I revisited Siem Reap for the fifth or sixth time not knowing what to expect. I’ve seen many of those important spots before, and so worried I might not enjoy the trip this time. But it was a blast. I discovered new places and rediscovered old places which left me wondered, amazed – it was a traveling mercy in the name of pleasure. I got to know the place well and was able to catch up with the latest developments the city has to offer.

On Sunday last weekend, the school where I’m currently teaching organized a boat party to welcome new teachers. It was a short distance boat ride on Tonle Sap but it was another traveling mercy to grasp God’s provision – without single cent spent taking pleasure in awesome sceneries before us.

“Are you really working out there or just playing around?” once asked by a friend.

I don’t know how much he understands about traveling mercy or the wonder of His grace, but it’s not something to feel guilty about. For me, in abundance or in drought His traveling mercy never ceases – for many times and in many ways but revealed beyond expectation – just learn to receive it freely.

May you always feel and seek His traveling mercy each single day of your journey – in long and short distances.

PAIRS OF SHORTS

Shoppers have different views on buying things - some conform to simplicity; others possess complexity while I in the causal side. It takes heavenly wisdom to understand their thinking, and so they need grace to understand mine.

I dislike going to clothes shops especially window shopping, but for people who don't know me well will really find it hard to believe having a lot of stuff in my room. It's up to you to think, but only ten percent of these acquired possessions I've personally bought - the rest are gifts from kind people I know.

If I could only wear my clothes for thirty years, why not? I'm not a trendy person anyway. Aside from that, I don't think clothes will last that long too. Believe it or not, I still keep and wear some of my clothes for almost a decade now. 

And so I rarely shop - no fondness for this hobby. The last time I actually got a pair of shorts was four years ago. Today, I bought two new pairs because I didn't have a choice or else I'll be wearing the same clothes for three days, stinking. Since I don't like buying the same thing in the future, I got two pairs of eight-pocket shorts instead - it will save me from bargaining for at least three years.

Few I know who are shopaholics - who buy or collect things extravagantly without really using them. If I were one of them, it would take fervent prayers to break this bad habit. I wonder how many pair of unused shorts I will have in the closet.

Many I see who just love shopping - who are endowed with the ability to bargain and check the quality;  who can stand with demand of trends and fashion. It's not me for sure or else you'll see me wear different shorts every single day.

The rest are but like me - who don't pay much attention about fashion statement or trendy stuff or branded product. I go for comfort and reasonable tag price! That's why I only have enough shorts to show off (just kidding).

Are these pairs of shorts expensive?

No they aren't, but they are very comfortable to wear. 

Except for my laziness and my disinterest to it, I consider shopping very unsatisfying or annoying at times. It requires carefulness and meticulousness to gratify one's wants. Only to find out you bought the wrong size or style or color or cut, etc. And the next thing you do is to go back and get it changed - hassle.

This morning I had the same scenario - the seller gave me the wrong size (30 instead of 31). To enjoy these pairs of shorts entails loosing weight. I didn't want to go back to that crowded place, and so I thought of something else - diet - thanks to these blessings. But must wear them for a while because I don't have anything to put on these few days.