Top 10 February 2016

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February came and went like a Cupid's arrow. There’s been a wild turnover of blessings this month that’s worthy of count. I stand by my dictum that if you don't count them, they don't multiply. So let's do this month's list. Included is, in my list of lists, the greatest blessing ever -the Word. This month, I chose a few verses in the Feb 29 first reading taken from the book of 2Kings. There are more than what's included in the list but let's stick with 10.

1. Naaman, the Syrian; Naaman, the Filipino.

And Eli'sha sent a messenger to him, saying, "Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean." 11But Na'aman was angry, and went away, saying, "Behold, I thought that he would surely come out to me, and stand, and call on the name of the LORD his God, and wave his hand over the place, and cure the leper. 12Are not Aba'na and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” 2 Kings 5:1-15

That's me -the Pinoy version of the complaining Syrian. 
Lo, I ask. Why on heaven and Earth the need to go to a certain place, wash seven times? Can't God just snap a finger? Or let out a divine thought? Didn't He create this universe with words? Why the need for rituals? 

Lo, I answer. Jesus Himself used rituals in performing miracles of healing. I think that in order for our obedience to be perfect, we must follow certain rules which to our limited minds may seem unnecessary. Pretty much like love, I guess. God commanded us to love our enemies -not so much for our enemies but for our love to be perfect.
Lo, I rest.

2. Flowers for my Lady. 

One of the few times every year I get to buy or ask someone to buy flowers for my one and only -Valentine’s day. The other times are anniversary and mothers’ day. If mothers’ day is within 5 days of her birthday, she gets Happy Mother’s birthday flowers. Tipid, ‘di ba? But this is beside the point I want to make. These are flowers to the one who listens to my funny stories and laugh, and tells the kids to laugh too, or else; who gets up first in the morning to fix breakfast; and, who loves me not for my money(??) or my body(?!) but for who I am. I am my money and my body -haha! And I am better because of the love: the CRI of the light I see is higher; my power to shine is magnified.

3. A Nestea Bottle and My Old Man.

Last year's movie San Andreas that Tatang and I went out to see left me feeling sad, a hint fearful and foolishly ridiculous all at the same time not because of how the movie turned out but because of a silly Nestea pet bottle. After popping a handful of popcorn a few minutes into the movie, we each grabbed our iced tea. I opened mine and was about to chug in a few when I noticed he was still struggling to open his. After a couple of attempts, he willfully gave it to me to open. I was one sad son that day. The iron hands I knew as a child that moved heaven and earth are now weaker than a child's.

Fast forward to February 2016.

A few weeks ago this February, Tatang was admitted in a hospital for the first time in 20 years. Based on that initial hint of fear and my limited knowledge of human anatomy, this must be a protraction of the San Andreas impact. The fear of course is opposed to the supposed faith I profess. But it was real.

Tatang was discharged after a day of confinement -for acute gastro. Although the fear might have been unfounded, the sadness for my old man remains.

4. Home.

It is without exaggeration when I say going  to hometown Dinalupihan, Bataan always gives me a feeling of refreshment every time no matter if the visit is for Christmas, Holy Week, the barrio fiesta, a sick relative, or even a funeral. Though it appears smaller in my eyes now, as small as the number of people I know, it is and will always be home to me. It may NOT look like my old hometown anymore, but it still feels like it. Here is where I grew up and messed up. Here is where I am reminded of early school days, of happy sun-drenched summers playing patintero with neighbors and cousins, of dear Inang hollering for lunch or supper or bath time, and of apung Juan and apung Trining. 

This time out, we visited two dear aunts Daling and Naty who are both bed-ridden. Both were glad to see us although only dà Daling could recognize us. A visit like this brings to mind a medley of Beatles songs like Julia & Let It Be -tributes to Lennon's and McArtney's mothers. Seeing them is like seeing my dear mother. They are in my prayers everyday.

5. Lent.

A favorite liturgical season of mine. It’s my time to get holier than my own perception of holiness. From the Wednesday of Ashes to the Sunday of Resurrection, I try to reconcile not only myself to my Creator, but also my new self to my old that takes me right back on tract in this thing called existence. Read my last year's blog about lent.

6. God's Security.

  

This is one great blessing that’s taken for granted . Everyday, I take so much delight in knowing that everyone in my family is home safe. With one office/school/traffic story after another to tell, I am comforted. I recite Psalm 91 several times everyday knowing that at no time in the day I don’t need God’s protection.

7. Therapy.

I have a client whose family is listed as one of Forbes’ 10 richest in the country. According to him, doing the dishes is his therapeutic way of easing off stress. 

Though still unlisted, I do have my own share of daily hassles. But washing the dishes is not for me. I’ve been washing dishes ALL MY LIFE -I can’t find the chill in cleaning, soaping, rinsing and drying.

Car wash -this is my R&R. I don’t see Mr. Rich doing this because if he does, it’ll take him forever to finish all the Audis in his showroom (there’s a giveaway on the person). This is my therapy: kick off my slippers, grab the hose, wash on, wash off. While at it, I get to thank God for the blessing of cars and for keeping us safe on the road every  time. It can take me a couple of hours but right after, the cars get a fresh look and I get a fresh outlook.

8. Brunch.

Friday dine out is one of the things that my family gave up for lent. Sunday breakfasts and lunches, too. Instead, we brunch out every Sunday after hearing mass. One new resto every week. The kids check out Zomato, while I ask for the price. If all good and within pocket reach, we brunch. I know that it’s cheap thrill but we do get the feel -from searching for the next place to eat, and arguing about the menu it serves to actually eating there. This may extend up to Easter and beyond! I hear cheers!

9. That Steph Curry Moment.

Game is tied. 6 seconds to go in the game. Steph takes a dribble past the half-court line. Aims for a trey much like the way he did >170 times this season. Oh, who doesn't know what happened next? Andre and I let out a 100Db-loud “whoooooah!” that sent da mommy's heart out of bounds.

Sports is one of the binding forces in my family. In tennis, Andre and I go for Rafa, while mom and daughter cheer for Roger. I'm forever Celtics while Nikkei, for the moment cheers for Curry’s daughter. Tennis or basketball or football or uni volleyball, sports is a venue for a healthy family argument, teasing, taunting, poking, fighting. Oh yes, I love my family!

10. Monday Breakfasts.

Because we are in the world. And to keep us from its influence, we study the Word. We call ourselves the Wordly Men. JoeDean is the founder of He Cares Mission -a 20-year old ministry for street children while Alfred is a founding elder of Lualhati ng Panginoon -a Catholic community based in Immaculate Concepcion Cathedral in Cubao. We share stories of the past days to strengthen one another’s faith. This is what we do every Monday for the past 3 or 4 years. The reflection that started this top 10 is a product of this.

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Top 10 January 2016

Last year, I struggled with my resolutions of at least a book-read and a blog-write a month. I started with several books but finished about two. I also wrote only 5 blogs. This year, I came up with this brilliant idea -brilliant according to my own measure -to help me keep at least the blogging part: a monthly TOP 10. Ten what? Ten anything -blessings, events, objects, projects, places, ideas, jokes, struggles, challenges, concrete, abstract -anything to be thankful for. It's a way of counting my blessings. Brilliant, eh? Let's all agree.

In no particular order, let’s begin...

1. The Past. 

Year 2015. The year was big -too big to put into words. But allow me: my family went Down Under for the first time in forever; re-visited Thailand after nearly 30 years with the wife; lighting projects outside the Metro; lighting projects within the metro; Andre’s graduation; Andre’s first job; Rissa going to Japan with the girls; Monday Bible sharing with the best men-friends; ad infinitum. If any other future year levels up with this one, well I'll be...

2. Life and Death. 

See The Dely Post. 

3. The Seed. 

My daily mass. Read earlier post.

4. Discipline. 

They say if you do something for 21 straight days, it becomes a habit. What becomes of it after 45 straight days? An addiction? Call it a that or call it cow, I won't sweat ya. But sweat out I do everyday I ride my stationary bike. Except for the days of chasing turon (see #9) in Baguio, I got myself to burning calories for at least an hour a day. The 5mm that this ride has chipped off my love handles greatly delighted the people in my life. Oh, who am I kidding? Am the only bag of bones that feels good about this.

5. Healing. 

Sort of. Of the wound of ancient days. When news of my nephew Matthew passing the board exams for dentistry came out, everyone was happy. But more than just happy, I felt healed. Long story but during my time (Board exams for Electrical Engineers), I didn’t make anyone happy. Or just maybe the person who stole(!?) my Math papers. Upon checking with PRC, I was told that I must have mistakenly switched my exam papers with my scratch papers. The scratch papers were given a grade: 69%! The real ones, I don’t know. I demanded to see the Math papers of the top 10 finishers. Denied. Nobody there to back me up. So thanks, Matt. Am healed. Congratulations! (Note: I took another Math exams. It was a breeze. Got my license shortly after).

6. The lil’ neighbor. 

Yup, Pia girl. Never fails to entertain us. Pia, who is bi-lingual, speaks Tagalog at home and English when she’s home with us. Some of her few-liners:

    Me: Pia, are you going somewhere?

    Pia: Nothing.

    L. Rissa (in the car): come with us!

    Pia: No, we're going something.

    Pia: is this your basura?

    L. Rissa: Of course not!

    Pia: Of course.... or not?

Because she always shows up in our front door bringing her brand of laughter, expect Pia to show up in future Top Tens.

7. New ride. 

Not the car. Just the tires.

You know what’s the next best thing to owning a new car? It’s the feeling of owning a new car. And that’s exactly what having a new set of tires can give. Hey, I may not afford to buy a new car but I can afford to buy the experience. Never mind what others think.

8. "We've Got It All For You." 

New contract with SM. All the efforts paid off. Previous to this, we were made to negotiate each and every new project. With the new agreement, no more negotiations. Just do it!

9. The Turon Chase. 

Baguio was supposed to be a marriage retreat but our retreat master Tommy’s tummy had other plans. It demanded for a turon. For three days and a half, we chased that elusive wrapped banana con langka. We found strawberries instead. And ube. And tupig. And longganisa. And coffee beans. And corn on a cob. Heck, we found the stars in the sky shining more brightly than ever. But not a single turon (an oxymoron?). Devoid of it’s craving, the master’s tummy got upset. There goes the retreat. Nevertheless, the chase gave us a good laugh and more. Something to laugh about next year. And the next…

10. The Future. 

Year 2016. It's been said many times, many ways: I don't know what the future holds; but I know Who holds the future. With God on my side, this future looks good. I can only be thankful.

Next Top 10

The Seed

If we only knew how God regards this Sacrifice, we would risk our lives to be present at a single mass. -St. Padre Pio

In the beginning, when I was growing up, there were no words like these from a beloved saint to inspire. Just catechism and my mother tagging us along every time she goes to Mass, Sunday Mass to be exact. 

Masses then were lengthy, boring and irrelevant, I found myself complaining. High Masses made me anything but high. There were more important matters to spend time on but I was obliged and felt obliged.

Then I grew up even more.

Each Mass became an escape from the chaos of daily grind, opium to run away from problems. I needed It to break free.

After many more years, Jesus finally happened in my life.

The Mass grew on me –Its importance and relevance. 

Now my daily schedule is structured around It. Without It, a day is never.

I’ve learned to trade boredoms for peace;

I’ve learned to trade escapes from chaos for spiritual refreshments in the midst of chaos.

The Mass is where I get needed inspirations. Mass miraculously stretches my time making it possible for me to do daily tasks –more wisely. I gain bits of wisdom that are triggered every time a senseless decision threatens its ugly face. I know that I can better power through challenges that choke my day.

In the Mass, more than asking for anything, I offer thanksgiving knowing that He will bless me with more reasons to go. Sure I go when there's a problem. Or when there's a difficulty. Or when there's none. Oh heavens, I go everyday. Afterall, it is written:

In all circumstances, give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. 1Thessalonians 5:18. 

And my way of giving thanks is the Mass because I always find a reason -many reasons- to be thankful.

Just my general take on life. 

The Deli Post

So long, partner. These were the words that came out so ever faintly from my lips as I threw in my flower offering to the still open grave of the one I called partner. She died just two days into the new year. She was our ninang (godmother) Dely -the matriarch of the David family. My wife's side of the family. The source of fine food recipes and of large sexy hips -don't they always go together? Am sure so. Am surrounded by living proofs! 

(Note: The word sexy was a stern suggestion.)

But this is supposed to be a melo-dramatic post so I will digress.  

Partner. This is what we called each other. Even if she was the biggest personality being the matriarch of the family, she was cool with it. It started when, during a vacation in Baguio, in an effort to make the most of our vacation, we decided to partner in not allowing it be spoiled by shopping or gimmicking out in the city. We rested. We let go of life's hang-ups. We vacationed. 

So it was just Ninang, me and the ghost of the lodge. I read a book silently, she ate tupig silently, while the ghost just kept smiling at us silently, unseen.

Sure the family felt the loss big time. Ninang Dely was a second mother to many that losing her would have been very difficult, let alone losing her in Christmas time, at the turn of the year. But to many of us in the family, we felt that it was in God's time that she finally rested after a lingering illness. We knew that Ninang is perfectly blissful in God’s bosom, that place with unlimited happiness. And darn, unlimited vacation, too. (And ghosts...?) 

I've been in many situations like this before where, in some, I've learned: in difficult times like death, or when life turns suddenly hopeless, or when nights are darkest, we all have a choice between being emotional (feeling sad and resigned) and being spiritual (expecting a miracle and trusting).

In those days when Ninang left us, we chose to be spiritual.

Henry van Dyke is spot-on in his poem Gone From My Sight:

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,

spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts

for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck

of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,

hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me — not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,”

there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices

ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

And that is dying…

Enjoy your vacation, partner. You will be missed.

---------------

I miss my own Inang. Gone from my sight in 2003, but not from my heart in forever.

Alone With My Kids: My Wife Left Me!

Wednesday morning. Early morning. Like it was just a few days ago. Wait, it was only 2 days ago but it seemed like it's been 4 already. All her bags were packed, ready to go:

-to Japan!

She left home and the 40º weather for the land of ramen noodles and size-10 onitsukas.

Am here dunkin' my pan de sal in my 3-in-1 thinking what did I do to deserve this? By this I mean the 3-in-1 coffee and the charcoal-grilled pan-de-sal breakfast. Coffee is too sweet! And the pan-de-sal... well, read on. But this is not what this is all about. This is all about my sunglasses -my branded sunglasses.

I was about to toss in yesterday's freshly-baked pan-de sals into the oven toaster when I heard an fb notification beep in my tablet. I thought it must be a post from the ex-wife (ex here means exceptionally sexy, or extremely beautiful). So I hurriedly turned the oven timer and reached in for the tablet to check. I saw this:

Thanks to Didith, her post prompted me to transcribe my lonely thoughts into this blog. And thanks to Didith, am having charcoal pan-de-sal for breakfast -and therefore the sigh: I don't deserve this! 

After the smoke in the kitchen has cleared, I started pounding on my mac while my ex-wife with the Central Bank of China (ninang Bing), the Rural Bank of Paranaque (sister Reng) and the Paluwagan Queen (best friend Ardis) are being shuttled from their hotel somewhere in Japan where most Japanese live, to Yokohama to visit the tire factory, I guess.

I feel better now that the kitchen temperature has dropped to <50º, thanks to 2 working electric fans in full blast. I only have to deal with my misery the next time I drive for an errand or work or for whatever reason -wearing my branded sunglasses.

I am moving on with my life. My kids need me and the dishes in the sink are waiting...

このような、人生です... (translation: Kono yōna, jinseidesu...)

From Dirt Road to Dirt Road: Father & Son Cebu adventure

Two tricycle rides, two taxi rides, three jeepney rides, one V-hire ride, one multicab ride -the stuff this adventure is made of. But wait, there's more:

We began the adventure on foot headed west in a dirt road and ended it in a tricycle in the same dirt road. It's the 'TO' between the first "Dirt Road" and the final "Dirt Road" that made up the unplanned, spontaneous adventure -my initial reaction to which was that of I'm-not-really-that-excited-about-this-at-all.

April 23, 2015. Andre was a full daylight delayed in arriving after having to finish the last of his final exams for the year, his last pre-thesis year in college. Do you know what this means for me? Less tuition fees to pay!

Check out his post:

Andre's FB post

I know Andre. His sense of adventure isn't actually being holed-up in a resort taking and being asked to take selfies. He's travelled 'alone' (sans family) with his friends in Europe, Singapore and just recently in Sagada, Mt. Province. The last time he was in this city, Andre was half his age now.

Early that morning after his arrival the night before, he said he wanted to see how much those places we've visited then have changed. I haven't opened my laptop in the past 24 hours. Going with Andre means I won't be able to do so for another full daylight. Hmmm, the unknown in this adventure has its ways of making me want to go.

So G!

Begin: The Dirt Road

To the dirt road! This is a 1.3km, 35ºC dusty walk to the highway where we can pick up a higher form of transportation - a tricycle ride to where the V-Ride (Express Van) terminal is. Express Vans take you to different parts of Metro Cebu the tricycle driver assures us. Our first destination was Ayala Center. Upon reaching the terminal and having taken his P50, our driver spoke to the guards who informed him in Greek that none of the vans can take us to where we first wanted to go. Even if this form of transport wasn't in our mental list, taxi was the next best option. But since there were no taxis in sight, the red-faced driver with a lop-sided Elvis Presley grin on his face redeemed himself by offering us a free ride to where we can hail one. Hailed one we did.

Taxi ride to Ayala Center

From Mactan island, our taxi headed farther northwest to the bigger main island of Cebu, the location of our first destination, Ayala Center.








The Ayala Terraces

In 2006 when we last visited Cebu as a family, there was no Terraces yet. It was built late 2008 transforming what was once a static lagoon to a dynamic food and beverage strip highlighted by a well-landscaped garden in the middle, an Ayala signature. The Terraces is the first big change that Andre wanted to see. He didn't get disappointed.

The Terraces (pic credit: Andre)

Jeepney ride to the Cathedral

After a few snapshots, look to the left and look to the right, I approached a guard to ask how to get to our next destination: 

Unsa un nacu pag agtu anang Basilica de Sto. Nino?

Using his stock knowledge of Tagalog and hand gestures that could rival a Sicilian, we were directed towards the jeepney terminal within the mall grounds. That day being a Friday, we were told roads leading to the Basilica were closed. Good thing, a good lady in the same jeepney ride walked with us towards the Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral -the first of three stops in the area.

The Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral

This visit to the Cathedral is a first for both Andre and me. I don't remember being here before. Yeah, could be memory gap -Andre was born by c-section, so there.

Inside Cebu Cathedral

Although just a few strides away from the Basilica, not too many people flock to this holy place. Perhaps the other places offer more miracles than this Cathedral. Or simply, 16th century trumps 17th century relic anytime. Oh Filipino spirituality I love.

Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral

We took those few strides to where people swear miracles abound. By this time, I was in a lookout for a store where I can buy band-aids for the my blistered toes developed after about 8980 steps of walking starting from that dirt road. Dang crocs -wrong footwear. We didn't find any band-aid store between the Cathedral and the Basilica. But you know what? I managed to tread upon my son's heels. A miracle!

The Basilica Minore del Sto. Nino de Cebu

As we entered the plaza, the final blessing of a Holy Mass celebrated in open air was just about to be given. I took off my cap and we joined hundreds of pilgrims as we bowed our heads down to receive the blessing. This was another miracle for me. I go to mass daily even when I travel. There are only a few days in a year that I do miss. This was one of those days. Still, God wanted to bless me the same way He blesses me everyday in the holy sacrifice of the mass.

Basilica de Sto. Nino

We went inside and as I always do when entering a church, I recited the Magnificat in Latin:

Magnificat anima mea Dominum

Et exultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo...

The Magellan's Cross

A tourist's trip to Cebu ain't complete without a visit to one of the most important monuments in the history of Philippine Christianization, the Magellan's Cross, literally a crossing away from the Basilica. Planted allegedly by Ferdinand Magellan in 1521, the Cross attracts hundreds, perhaps thousands everyday. I noticed that there were pilgrims who with stretched arms touch the base of the Cross and murmur prayers. I did the same not to ask for miracles or favors but to unite myself to the spirituality of those who do. Told you, Filipino spirituality -I love.

Magellan's Cross

With blistered toes and hungry tummies, we thought it was time to grab a taste of Cebu street food. So we asked kuya guard in the pharmacy (finally!) where the best place to satisfy our palates is to be found. He pointed to this place:

Cebu McStreet Food

I got a chance to band-aid my blisters while inside the air-conditioned street food place. Although a bit disappointed with the street food that tastes no different from the drive-thru food in Quezon City, we filled our bodies with enough BTUs to last us till the next sutukil we find along the way. Up next is a new chapel built in honor of the newest-declared Filipino saint, Pedro Calungsod. We asked no less than 5 people how to get to the South Road Properties (SRP), we got no less than 5 different answers only to find out that a taxicab is the only public transport that could bring us there.

Taxi ride to SRP and back

Chapel of St. Pedro Calungsod

The chapel is a sight to behold. This Philstar article best described what we saw:

The church has 100 walls, each with a unique height and width so that they seem almost like people.  No one is the same (sic) and yet they are all connected in the fact that they exist together as a cluster.  The walls come together to form a kind of congregation, and within it are auxillary spaces for a baptistry, an adoration chapel, prayer niches, the sacristy, fourteen stations of the cross, and even a quiet room for children. -www.philstar.com

St. Pedro Calungsod Chapel

Inside the chapel, after my usual recitation of the Magnificat, I walked closer to the altar in the hope that the good saint gives us a glorious welcome, you know, fireworks or something. But when I got near the altar, there came no thunders and lightning, no fire and rain. But I am comforted by my belief that not all miracles are seen or heard or felt. Faith tells me they just are. This I believe.

Inside St. Pedro Calungsod Chapel

The cab driver took us back to earth near the Basilica where we can take another jeepney ride to the next point in this day-long adventure, SM City.

Jeepney ride to SM City Cebu

SM was added to the itinerary because of an errand we were called to do. While at it, Andre bought 2 tall glasses of fresh buko juice which I sipped throughout the next leg which is a V-Hire ride to a stopover where we can get another ride to get to the Lapu-lapu Shrine. We were first in line to the next dispatch that gave us "dibs" to the 2 front seats. Andre offered me a fist pump and declared, "Dad... adventure!" Easily, one of the most beautiful father and son moments of this trip.

SM Cebu 

The next ride in a multicab brought us to our final adventure point, the Lapu-lapu (Mactan) shrine.

The Penultimate Leg

The Mactan Shrine

We've been here before. Andre remembered me telling him that it was a fish that caused the death of Magellan. This picture tells that story:

Magellan looks down at the fish

At the Lapu-lapu Shrine

Lapu-lapu Monument

The images captured in this whole adventure only serve as backdrops to the insights gained in every ride and in every stop. Add to that the miracles that came without being noticed.

The Final Leg

One last jeepney ride and the final tricycle ride in that dirt road where we started brought us back to the resort. In the tradition of Amazing race, we ran from the gate towards the finish line, our room. Panting with a victorious grin on his face, Andre pronounced, "Adventure done!" We high-fived!

End: The Dirt Road

In my mind, father and son adventure didn't end that day. It continues along the grind of everyday life.

I'll look forward to the next time we drop everything and run straight to a crooked dirt road...

When Subtraction is Multiplication

I am technical, therefore, the title.

                      or

The title, therefore, I am technical.

But mind not the metaphysical aspect of the beginning, this is just the cause and effect of my reading Thomas A. -the dude that started it all.

I just feel the need to publish this train of thought -actually a reflection of today’s gospel reading. I am right in the middle of a project meeting waiting for my item, which is I think is stuck between the 36th and the 51st slides, to go up the discussion board. I arrived late -just when the 12th slides off the screen but early enough to catch the first of the doughnuts that got passed around.

Hmmmm, donuts!
And just like that, I am reminded of the mass early this morning:

                 Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, 

                 he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, 

                 as much as they wanted. And when they had eaten their fill, 

                 he told his disciples, "Gather up the fragments left over, 

                 that nothing may be lost." So they gathered them up and 

                 filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves, 

                 left by those who had eaten. 

                -John 6:11-13

For me, this is a lesson about gaining abundance. That it is by sharing that one gains more. But why does it seem difficult at times to part ways with what we have? Again, Jesus showed how. He gave His whole being -everything for the service of His Father and of mankind. Then the rest came easy.

Jesus didn’t start giving Himself away to the will of the Father in Calvary, or in the Garden, or during the Last Supper. He started from day one. His life is a testimony to this.

Let’s not complicate something so simple.

You subtract, God multiplies. Give all to gain all.

Do the Math!

Oops! My slide is on...