(Revisiting) My Strange Comfort in That Which Cannot Be Explained

Just reposting this because I feel the need for comfort right now. Felt it the whole day that I was actually listening to the song earlier (below).

Wonder of wonders, one of my former students mentioned credo quia absurdum. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is!




..o.. 

I normally don't talk about my faith as much as I talk about my political beliefs. It isn't really because of shame as much as it is because my faith is admittedly too precarious for me to talk about. I have never been one to choose religion over faith, and so I would appear too liberal to "non-believers" (ugh, I hate that term...these people still believe in something, just not God - proof eternal that we live in a predominantly theist society that does not necessarily embrace those who are different...), at the same time appear too wishy-washy for those who are still burning with religious fervor.

But I see a lot of people blog about their faith and I really am moved by their vigor - almost envious even. There seems to be a resurgence of religion in the youth (especially in the Philippines) and I am really pleased. But I grew up with this "religion" and honestly, I don't feel compelled to write about it as much because (and this'll sound really bad)...I've been there and I've done that way before it was in vogue. (Told you it will sound bad.) I know that's wrong, and I'm working on that. Read on...

But it's one of those blah days. I slept for almost 10 hours last night, and instead of waking up fresh-faced to see the new morning, all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep-sleep-sleep. I am overcome with such tiredness that it's almost scary. There are a lot of things going on right now and I haven't really been dealing with them by choice. There are too many things to do and frankly, I don't have time to be sad. But it's all catching up, and I'm feeling it all right now. So now I am compelled to talk about my faith.

A lot of people ask me why the title of my site is credo quia absurdum. A little background then.

I dated a man who was a Catholic-who-became-an-atheist-who-then-became-a-Christian (how C.S. Lewis, no? LOL!) In the course of our relationship, I came to know a lot of atheists who eventually became REALLY good friends of mine. Up to this very day, I consider these friends closest to my heart.

One of the perks of having such individuals as friends are the lively "debates" we get into. Because of those, I did a lot of introspection. There was a period in my life when I was not searching for God as much as I was reflecting on the tenets posed by most organized religions. I read up on all these other religions not so much to convert as much as to understand where they were coming from and to somehow find a common thread.

What I realized from all my readings is that there can be no real debate between atheists and theists. (Just really-really-really lengthy conversations that end with much laughter, love, and understanding...and beer.) Atheists prove through logic, theists do not prove at all, but believe through faith; yes, even if it is illogical, strange, and absurd. Hence, credo quia absurdum. I believe (precisely) because it is absurd. I choose faith over logic, I choose strange over normal, I choose absurdity over sense.

Now you all know how anal I am and how I need everything clear and explained and in order. But this inexplicable aspect of my life actually brings comfort. I do not want to explain or prove God's existence as much as I want to experience it. I don't tell other people to convert as much as I want them to find out more about God when they see how I live my life. I know I fail to do that in so many ways, but it isn't about my failure as much as it is about God's success.

So there. I'm not going to apologize for not wearing my faith on my sleeve. I'm too much of a tax collector than a pharisee anyway. I choose to practice my faith in silence and hope that my silence can shut down the noise that my demons keep making. Some people say I do not talk about my faith enough...but look at the title of my site. I do proclaim my faith, every single day. But I am also a work in progress and I shall leave the proselytizing to the experts. And I'm not going to apologize for embracing my faith over my logic either.

My comfort is in this inexplicable wonder called Jesus and I am nothing without this absurdity.

 Comfort in Your Strangeness
by Cynthia Alexander
Woke up this morning
I was staring at the ceiling cracks and road maps and highways and landscapes
I have seen
I have been
to places far and deep in my mind only to find
comfort in Your strangeness
Of moving shadows when I call the wind by name
rushing firewater in the dark of a cloud
I have seen
I have been
to places far and deep in my mind only to find
comfort in Your strangeness
We are slaves to the crimes we commit
in fits of passion
we shame
We are nothing, we are nothing, we are nothing, we are nothing
But the dust on Your feet
Dying to be born again
Singing ether, water, fire, singing earth, singing air
I have seen
I have been
to places far and deep in my mind only to find
comfort in Your strangeness
I have seen
I have been
to places far and deep in my mind
only to find
comfort in Your strangeness

The Last Trimester (Dan-Dan-Duuuuuuhn)

I can hardly believe it. Can you? :)

She's looking pretty awesome. I'm looking pretty puffy. Haha! ;p

Almost there!!!

No Punchline. Just A Straight Up Plea.

It just gets to me, you see.

People should stop calling Mayweather "gayweather" for refusing to fight Pacquiao. I know, I get it, it's beyond annoying for Floyd to do that. Grand Rapids is my second home, so it's especially frustrating for me since Floyd's also from there. But calling him by that monicker is like saying gay people are cowards. They are not.

"Gay" is not a derogatory term. I can think of so many other terms that could be more appropriate (none of them are GP). So, please. Stop it.

Thank you.

It's the Final Countdooooown! (Teeneeneen-deeeen, teeneeneendeendeen...)

I posted this on my Facebook wall a few months ago, before we knew that we were having a girl. I said then that I was terrified we'd have a girl because I wouldn't know how to handle girls. I'm used to handling boys, and generally, I don't like girls. Haha. x)

Wait, let me qualify: I think girls are harder to handle than boys. Boys are less of a mystery. Girls are vicious and emotionally all over the place. (Behold, it is I, Exhibit A.)

Anyway, just watch first:






Now that we know it's a girl (hi, Lulukins!), I'd have to say...I'm still terrified, hehe. Now the fear is tinged with a healthy dose of excitement though. It's dangerous and silly to put stock on what "girls are like" vis-à-vis what "boys are like" anyway (Gender Equality 101). All I know is that she will be all ours, and that's what gloriously counts. :)

I do have to say though, God have mercy on the man or woman (Gender Equality 101.1) who will dare break the heart of my Munchkin, because this Mama Munchkin might be small, but she be the Head of the Lollipop Guild. Ya hear?

And so now I'm on my 6th month, the first month of my final trimester. I'm hugehugeHUGE like it's nobody's business. Yesterday, Chaddy and I went window shopping for baby stuff to compare prices and I can't believe how excited I got, considering I absolutely hate shopping. Good grief, this child will have nothing but (absurdly) pink items to last her through her early childhood, methinks. (As a side note, I really hope we get a boy next time, if only so that Chaddy, the real shopper of the two of us, can get to feel the satisfaction of buying miniature boy stuff. Oooh, you should've seen those baby barongs and pants!)

I'll upload the updated picture tomorrow maybe. I switched into my jammies as soon as I got home and now I'm too lazy to wear the white-shirt-and-jeans combo that has become my preggy picture uniform. :p

Since I started with an adorable video that freaked me out a bit, let me end with an adorable video that calmed me down. One of my former students (he was in my moderating class and I taught him for two years, so he really is one of "my kids" -- haha!) posted this on my Facebook wall as well. He and I share a rabid Bob Marley adoration, so this was particularly enjoyable for me.

Enjoy this, Lulu (and everybody else)! Konti na lang!!! :)

This is What I'm Talking About! (But She Does It Better...)

Okay, so I'm totally crushing on Ana Tijoux right now. Her new single, 1977, was the free song for the week on iTunes last week and so, consummate freeloader than I am, I promptly downloaded her song without really know who she was.

Oh my goodness, I love her song! As I said earlier, anyone who knows me knows that I hate rap and R&B. Wait, actually, let me say that again: I hate "rap" and "R&B" -- not so much because they sound so alike and stupid and unoriginal, but because they totally messed up their respective genres. Modern day rap is the prostitution of poetry! (I've said that so many times, I really ought to put that on a shirt...and a mug.) When rap (or hiphop) and R&B came to be, it was because the people behind them had a story to tell. And it needed to be told in that particular manner because it was passionate and real and true. They talked of sadness, loss, triumph, and redemption.

Nowadays, all "hiphop" and "R&B" do is regurgitate the same themes: sex and violence and more sex. Puh-lease. They can't even be crass uniquely.

But that's just me.

One Day, A Conversation

I've been told several times that my updates are highly entertaining. E kasi naman, my husband provides such excellent fodder.

For example:

Me: Babe, do you ever wonder where Mr. Wok-With-Yan is na?
Chaddy: *silence*
Me: Like how he is, if he's okay, if he's still alive...?
Chaddy: *still nothing*
Me: Well do you, babe???
Chaddy: *he continues to ignore me*
Me: Babe?!?
Chaddy: *yep, still ignoring me*
Me: Pbbbft. Where's your sense of wonder???
Chaddy: *starts to laugh*
Me: It's probably with your sense of humor.

Siiigh.

In his defense, he wasn't being mean. He knew that that question would lead to another question which would lead to another and another and another...

But seriously, don't YOU ever wonder where Mr. Wok-With-Yan is?

Crayons and the Art of Letting Go of SOME Neuroses

So I took this picture about two years ago (has it really been that long?!?) when I got the crayons. I had a project for grad class that needed some measure of childlike creativity. Okay, I didn't necessarily need the crayons, but as I was passing the art supply section, the box just cried out for me.

I mean, really, you have to be some big meanie to not find happiness in a box of new crayons. So yeah, excuse me if I had to take a picture of my new crayons. Mumble and Grover are just two of the many simple gifts my husband has given me through the years. He gave them to me when I particularly needed to be cheered up, so I thought it was only fitting that they share the frame with my beloved box of crayons. (Weirded out yet? Read the title of the entry...)

Somewhere Between Insane and Ridiculous

Okay, so there's busy and then there's insane...and then there's ridiculous. I'm somewhere in between -- of insane and ridiculous, I mean.

Several things though before they slip my mind:

Zoom-Zoom-Zooming Around the Womb-Womb-Womb

Just a thought: If you say, "womb-womb-womb" in a semi-slow, echoey way, it almost sounds like a light saber in action.

ANYWAY. :-)

So I'm on my 5th month with Luci and I was told to expect to feel kicks and stuff. Since I'm hardly ever late (unless I do so on purpose -- for good reason, I might add -- or, ironically, unless my husband makes me late), I was a little disappointed when I didn't feel any kicks on the very day I turned pregnant-for-five-months.

What did happen was the sudden enlargement of my belly. Okay, that actually sounds clinical. The sudden cowabungganess of my belly. That's more appropriate. All of a sudden, I got massive. Oh, and my feet are swollen to such ridiculous proportions. Well, at least now especially, since it's the end of day.

So just when I thought Lulu would be a pretty mellow puffalump, I felt her. I don't think it was a kick-kick as much as it was a kick-nudge. Like maybe she propped her feet up (much like what I'm doing right now actually). She remained active all throughout this afternoon, too.

I am all shades of tickled pink (mais oui). It feels odd, and for some reason, whenever I think of babies kicking from within wombs, I think of Sigourney Weaver in one of the Aliens movies, when her baby just kind of broke through her body. Or the movie poster of Needful Things. (Good God, what is wrong with me?!?) But this afternoon, I was comforted by the knowledge that Lulu was with me all day today and that, quite literally, I wasn't alone today.

I have a human being inside me. I mean, COME ON, does it get any cooler than that? :-))

Just one of those feeling-really-overworked-then-something-magical-happens days. :-D

Untalkative Bunny and His Friendly Friend

Anybody else *adore* this show??? :-))

This is for Chaddy, my husband. I might be pink (and absurd) and annoying and I don't shut up, but I'm grateful that he chooses to share his tea with me all the time. Heehee. ;-)

Gulp

It's the end of the week. The weekend is upon us...which is great. But that also means I'll be spending more time with her. God give me strength. I don't know how much more of her negativity I can take. :-(