Category Archives: reflection

November 5, 2026 · 4:00 AM

I Cry

I originally wrote “I Cry” in June 2020, during a season of tremendous uncertainty and upheaval in our nation and our world. Six years later, I reread these words and realize that, although circumstances have changed, the heart behind them has not. I still believe we need humility, respect, compassion, peace, and, above all, God’s presence in our lives. So I decided to leave this reflection nearly as I wrote it then, because it captures what was on my heart at that particular moment.

Usually, tears bring me to write. Something that touches my very core. Something that moves me. Something that triggers passion, or emotion – a memory, a thought, an image, or a prayer.

Lately, I’ve been silent. Silent in writing. My drive for writing once ignited with words and expression within the depth of my soul. It had to be released by putting pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, but now nebulous and dim from what it once was.

I admit that year brought shock, uncertainties, and even dread. My tears flow. Lord, what has happened? God, what is happening?

America: the land of the free and brave! Are you still among us?

I sang “America the Beautiful” as a child:

America! America! God shed his grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.

I also remember belting out “This Land Is Your Land” with my classmates, proud to belong to a country big enough for everyone. And who can forget standing in school together singing “Let There Be Peace,” believing peace could begin with each of us?

Lord, I can’t speak for others. No one can walk in my shoes. I certainly cannot walk in their shoes, nor would I want to. We all have our own crosses to bear. But please lift this burden from us and lighten the load, I pray. You are a God who is able. But even if You choose not to make the pathway easier, or the roads brighter, then help us as individuals and help us as a nation to allow ourselves to put God back at the center of our lives, at home and abroad, and within our own families.

I chose You, Lord. Whether I understand things or not, whatever tomorrow may bring, I know that I need You more now than before, and that has not changed. Your Word says there is a season for everything under the sun. Although I am not liking the season we are in right now, I know that You’re not a God of confusion but of peace, for You are merciful and Your love is never-ending.

Humility, respect, patience, and compassion are places where we can begin. Heal us, oh, Lord. We are sick; we need a healer. Please heal our hearts. Please heal our land.

“It is the LORD who goes before you.
He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you.
Do not fear or be dismayed.” Deuteronomy 31:8

Six years later, I am still praying this prayer. Some of the uncertainty has changed shape, but the need for humility, for peace, for God at the center, that hasn’t changed at all. I don’t have a tidy ending to offer. I only have this: He is still faithful. He still goes before us. And so I keep choosing Him, one day, one prayer at a time, for myself, my family, and my country.

Whatever this season has meant for you, hope or heaviness or both, the prayer is the same. If you’re praying it too, dear reader, you’re not alone.

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Filed under Faith, reflection

Tagged as America, compassion, Faith, God, healing, hope, humility, peace, Prayer, reflection

August 8, 2026 · 7:00 AM

The First Man I Ever Looked Up To

We have five family members with birthdays this month. On Aug. 11th, Daddy turns 93.

I’ve written so many stories of him over the years because he has given me so many stories to tell. With his animated personality, he has always been a natural storyteller. If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you’ve probably met him more than once.

These days, I find myself thinking less about the big moments, and more about the little ones. The sound of his voice. His warm smile when he sees me. The comfort of simply sitting beside him.

At 93, every birthday feels a little more precious.

“Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life.” —Proverbs 16:31

So this year, I won’t say much. Just say thank you.

Thank you for a lifetime of love, for believing in me, and for being the first man I ever looked up to.

Happy birthday, Daddy!

I love you.

“Every wrinkle on his face is a story I’m grateful to know.”

El primer hombre a quien admiré

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Filed under family, reflection

Tagged as birthday, Daddy, Family, love, memories

February 19, 2022 · 12:52 PM

Reflecting

I’ve been away from posting new materials lately. I have been quite busy in my spare time. I’m trying to translate my memoir chapters into Spanish. One of the most challenging and tedious tasks I’ve faced thus far. I couldn’t have done it without the help and reliance on others. Initially, I sought the ‘professionals’ and their prices were sky-high, too rich for my blood. My reality check. I then requested help from family and friends. They told me yes. However, they are too busy and couldn’t commit.

Well, my son’s new girl in his life dove right in and is taking on the task. And recently, wouldn’t you know it, I have another friend and her mother looking over the chapters. I am far from finished and know that I will have to find professional editing afterward. But I am up to the challenge.

So many sentences, chapters, and conversations across every page of my memoir come alive. I find myself reliving almost every word. I find myself touched and tears roll down my face. You see, it hits me – I’ve survived so much! Indeed, God has been good to me; a constant steadfastness in my unstable life. God is the God of miracles.

“¡Respondeme!” Me dio una bofetada de revés.
Vi estrellas.

The above quote is just a tiny picture of what once was … I will retell my story. That others may learn hope. That they may learn about the God of second chances and new beginnings. If He can do it for me, He can certainly do it for you!

“Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace” (PAPERBACK)
(in AUDIO)

I also have another future writing project that will share the stories of other survivors.

Pray for me. And stay tuned.

Road Less Traveled…my truth

This has been a challenging year for all. I never imagined I would be alive in a time like this. The events occurring these days are astonishing! Many are left shocked, confused, and angry, and some have lost their ever-loving minds over worry, paralyzed in fear!

Is it not true every day we have to make choices? Do we not decide daily on what actions to take? How are we going to react? I for one believe in the power of prayer. Prayer brings results. But I don’t doubt there are days when our prayers cry out, “God, are you there? Are you listening?”

He is. And He does.

I do not pretend to have all the answers. I am flawed. I am an imperfect being trying to serve a perfect God. His ways are higher than my ways. As a Christian, I am not immune to the happenings of this world. Family and dear friends have experienced illnesses. Some are due to COVID. They have faced setbacks because of circumstances beyond their control. They have also endured hurtful disappointments because, well, we’re humans.

In Robert Frost’s poem The Road Less Taken, towards the end, he mentions the road less traveled. I want to be on that road. What does that mean exactly? I’m sure it means different things to different people.

For me, the road less traveled is to be on the road of steadfastness. It means not faltering or leaning on my own understanding. I want to be on the road less traveled. I want to be collected and in my right frame of mind. When much confusion lies before me, I feel overwhelmed. At times, I may stumble. I might not know what to do. Still, I want to be on the road less traveled in my prayer closet. I prefer this instead of bickering and complaining.

Someone, please show me the road less traveled—to trust in God instead of doubting Him. Guide me to the road less traveled. Help me believe it is well with my soul. Help me trust in the best yet to come. Point me to the road less traveled. I want to be free from the weight of the world. Keep its troubles off my shoulders.

I want to walk in faith and not in fear. Sing and not scream. Be tender and not hardened. Pliable and not crushed. Teachable and not a know-it-all.

These are my truths, what I hope to achieve someday. I don’t want to follow the crowd of ‘woe is me!’ Instead, I will listen in humbled silence. I will hearken to the still small voice that beckons me to be still and know that He is God.

Whenever I approach the two roads of life, I want to look heavenward. I want to take the road less traveled. That choice has made all the difference.

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Filed under allegory, reflection

Tagged as allegory, Faith, fork in the road, Prayer, reflection, road less traveled, Robert Frost, steadfast, uncertainties

August 21, 2017 · 8:05 PM

Bump in the Night

In our tiny efficiency, as I lay in pitch darkness, my eyes remained open, growing accustomed to the dark. The yellow moon peeked through the window shade. Eerie shadows traveled across the walls and bounced off a tattered chair whenever headlights from cars passed by.

Mama and I shared a narrow bed then. Because my stepdad, Warren had “accidents” in bed at night, he slept on the opposite one from us. Like the sound of a freight train, his incessant snoring rattled my eardrums. Asleep in her underwear, Mama’s gentle snoring came in spurts. Those sounds became my lullaby in the evenings, lulling me to sleep.

But not tonight.

I was never afraid during the night, but with a sense of foreboding I couldn’t shake off, I got up and propped a chair under the doorknob. Time passed. Thump! The chair toppled over and my heart hammered against my chest. Then I heard the knob turn and the door creaked. The hair on my scalp pricked me.

In the dark, I turned ever so slowly, peering through half-closed lids.

The silhouette of Warren’s weird friend crawled, cat-like, on all fours. He inched his way closer. And closer. Warren snorted and rolled over. El Creepo froze. Then he continued his way toward Mama. His hand reached her leg and started feeling upward . . .

With sheer determination, I hopped up, screaming at the top of my lungs. Like a wild animal caught in blinding light, El Creepo jumped and made a beeline toward the door. He crashed into a chair, tripped over the box fan, and then collided with the dresser before hightailing out. Crying and shaken out of my wits, I turned the light switch and called out to my parents in zombie-land, to no avail. It took a long time before I shut my eyes.

The next morning, I gave a full report. With stupefied faces and mouths agape, they attempted to process my words.

“What?” Mama shrieked. “I didn’t hear anything!”

“Mama, he touched you!”

“How did he . . . ?” Warren stammered.

Mama gave him a dirty look. “The door doesn’t have a lock, you dope, remember?”

“Well, you just wait ‘till I see that jerk again,” Warren hinted, getting up to check the knob.

One may think that this frightening episode caused a rude awakening in my party-animal parents. It changed nothing. Sometimes, I think Mama didn’t know what to do with me. Some days she wanted me close. Other days she didn’t.

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Filed under Memoir, reflection

Tagged as childhood, childhood memories, excerpt, frighten, innocence, memoir, memoir writer, personal, Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace

January 15, 2017 · 6:09 PM

Face to Face

Happy New Year!

f4694e59b0e6749e2d892b2a6899e728 Some of you have been wondering if I am still around. Oh yes, very much so. But due to personal reasons, after life threw us a curveball back in November, I had indeed taken a little sabbatical from blogging. I am happy to report that bit by bit, I am getting back on track with writing, etc. I’ve also joined a Toastmasters’ group and will give my Ice Breaker speech to them this week. I will share the outcome with you at a later date.