Birdie, What's your secret?

Birdie, birdie, my little birdie
What makes you so happy?
What keeps you so light hearted and free spirited?
Don't you know that cold weather is on the way?

Soon, it will be Winter
And there won't be anything for you to eat
no fruits on trees to peck
and no bugs in the bark to chew on

You seem so worry free
hopping from branch to branch
tweeting and squeaking your lungs out
Don't you ever sit and worry
as we, the humankind normally do

We've been told that we rank high in intelligence
common sense, creativity and performance
Yet, we don't seem to enjoy life at all
Wherever I look, I see people busy and strained
singing seemed stopped
and laughter hardly heard

Yes, we've  food to feed many tummies for an year
probably, enough wealth to last for decades
yet, we walk around joyless and heavy hearted.
No wonder the Lord told us to look at you
and to learn from you.

So, tell us little birdie
what's your secret?
What makes you sing even when there's nothing to eat
and no branches around to build your nest?***

Babies- Four Child Stars at Play

               Just the mention of the word-babies makes me want to coo and talk gibberish. I  love watching babies laugh, babble, whimper or smile in their sleep. So, when Thomas Balrnes, the  director of the movie Babies came on Oprah show to promote his film and showed some clips of it, I couldn't wait to see the movie. But then, as usual, I completely forgot about it untill my daughter reminded me to request it on Netflix. So, finally one fine evening ,when my husband who prefers action movies to sober ones was out of town, my daughter and I sat snugly in our couch and watched the long awaited-Babies.

What is unique about this movie is that it is filmed without narration. No dialogue, no romance and no drama. And its' neither a silent movie that resembled the good old movies of  pioneer times. It's all about babies, and how they grow up at different parts of the world. It gives us a look at one year in the life of four adorable babies growing up in four countries in the world. Three girls and a cute little  boy are the main characters. A girl named Ponijao from Opumo Nambia, a boy named Bayar from Mongolia, a girl named Mari from Tokyou Japan and a girl from San Francisco, California named Hatti.


Four babies with different sounding names born to parents with different skin color, speaking different language and eating different kinds of food. Although, they are so much different in many ways, they do resemble in some ways. They laugh when they're happy, cry when got hurt, get mad when things don't go their way and fight with siblings to get what they wanted. That's what the movie is about. It shows whoever these children maybe and wherever they grow up, they are loved and cared by their parents and learn to crawl, walk, talk and play almost in the same manner. Watching the mothers interacting with their babies surely make me realize that these are precious moments for them whether they record them in a video camera or not. Babies are definitely precious whether they are black, brown, yellow or white. And the moments spent with these God given gifts are nothing, but P-R-E-C-I-O-U-S!


Ponijao, who is growing up in a dry and hot climate hardly seen wearing any clothes. Nakedness doesn't seem bother her  nor those who live around her. She sits on bare bottom on mud floor, crawls and drinks muddy water in the stream, eat with barehand a gooey paste like something out of a clay pot.  When hungry, she sucks on her mother's breast, which is always hanging bare and within her reach. What is interesting to note is that she is  never left alone. Her mother is always near her, having a watch on her and her siblings. She grinds something to a red paste and rubs all over Ponijao's body to keep her from stinking bad in that hot and dry weather. Because of lack of water, the people living there had adapted some means to keep them clean and this must be one of the ways.


Bayar who lives in Mongola is mostly left alone to explore the nature around him. To see him enjoying his bath in a half filled tin bath tub, while a mountain goat with two sharply pointed horns bending and drinking water out of his bathtub make us so nervous. But Bayar didn't seem to be bothered at all by the intruder. Later we see him crawling all over the grassland where cows and calves graze and he looks so at home going undeneath the cattle legs and coming out unharmed. His mother or any adult in not to be seen around and he's on his own to explore. I can just imagine what a brave and independant ranger he would turn out to be one day.

Then  there's Mari, whose parents are mostly around her to keep company, and she even get to go to day care to be around other kids. Its' so funny to see her get frustrated over her attempt to place a spindle into a hole in a rubber ring. She falls on her back and throws her feet in the air and bangs them against the floor crying nonstop. When she's happy she coos and charms everyone. It's interesting  to see how cautiously she takes her first steps and her mother beaming with pride watching her from a distance.

Hatti, who seems to have got it all, looks like any kid growing up in any suburb in United States. Her parents are there to read to her, take her to the park, and even her grandmother is mostly around to keep a eye on her. It's also interesting to watch her eating a banana, carefully taking out the peel one by one and  handing it out to her mom.

Yes, we got a glimpse of these four child stars at play. They are growing up in different parts ot the world, yet learning to crawl, talk, walk almost the same way.  That was truly a precious and an ah-ha moment for me. I don't know whether these kids would ever get a chance to meet each other in their life time  or  what these innocent kids would become one day. But I dearly hope and pray that wherever they live, they'd be protected and guided to become great citizens of this world***

Unsung Saints-Precious in God's Sight

"The most saintly spirits are often existing in those who have never distinguished themselves as authors, or let any memorial of themselves to be the theme of the world's talk; but who have led an interior angelic life, having borne their sweet blossoms unseen like the young lily in a sequestered vale on the bank of a limpid stream."- Kenelm Digby

 Oh, how many saints had been in the past and are somewhere today unnoticed, unheard,  working behind the scene with no earthyly glory, but God's glory in mind.  Probably we would have even encountered some in our neighborhood, workplace, church,school, hospital.

I remember a precious woman who came to my door to purchase a leather couch I had put for sale,.A few days earlier I had returned to Saskatoon on a two week visit to put our house up for sale. Within that short period, I needed to pack, discard the unwanted, sell the furniture, clean the house to a shine and get back to San Diego in time to welcome some visitors home.

Sue, who came to look at my couch, not only bought many of my furniture, but also volunteered to come the next three days to help me pack, move and get the house ready to put up for sale. She was neither a friend nor a neighbor of mine. But a just an acquaintance who happened to drop by to see my furniture. She could have easily bought the stuff and gone. But she didn't . She saw my weary face, the number of unpacked Budget Moving boxes strewn around and my sole assistant-my teenage daughter chatting on the phone. Sue didn't stop with packing; she brought lunches for me and my daughter; she hauled our discarded stuff to the dumpsite in her small trailor and took us to the airport on the last day and bade us good-bye witha bear hug.

She was truly an angel sent by God to help me. That's what I told her and she took that with a sweet and modest gesture. Probably she would have done the same to any other person,I presumed. I don't think I would have gone to the extent Sue did. She went the extra mile. What she did, no one came to know. But God knew. No one goes unnoticed in His view.

In  today's market, whatever glitters brighter or  jingles louder gets sold. Genuine precious gems lie mostly unearthed. It is God who picks them up, blow away the dust and reveal their splendor in His light.  Maybe these are the ones prophet Isaiah talks about in chapter 61: 3, which I read today for my Bible study.
"They will be called oaks of righteousness for the display of His splendor."

It brings also to my mind, a stanza of the Blogger's Prayer, Ann Voskamp posted in her blog. Yes, I'm a devout follower of Ann's postings, for I admire her heart for God and her beautiful writing. In the Blogger's Prayer, she writes,
'May I write not for subscribers... but only for Thy smile
.....
May my identity be in the innumerable graces of Christ
never, God forbid, the numbers of my comments."

As a new blogger, I know how tempting it could be to go again and again to  check for comments under my postings. Even a single line I see there brightens my day  and gives great  satisfaction. Something within us surely craves for recognition. Though it seems an innocent gesture, if unchecked, I could be easily carried away by others perception of me and my work. My craving for affirmation would soon become the driving force, and leave my identity in Christ without much attention.  Instant gratification seems assuring and comforting at times. As a result,  instead of becoming an oak of righteousness to display Christ's splendor ,I may end up like a dried weed waving in the draft of self-worship.

It is my prayer that my focus be God alone, and my walk with Him be steadfast. Let my craving for monuments for world's talk be replaced by yearning to have an angelic inner life and to become an oak of righteousness for His splendor!***

A Day to Remember and Celebrate

It's my birthday today, and it's a day of celebration at my house. I didn't want anything fancy this time, the usual going out to the restaurant for a grand meal and getting gifts. Instead, I wanted a simple candle light dinner at home. My 22-year-old opted to make the dinner and my husband was put in charge of setting the table with candles and flowers. I don't know how tasty the meal is going to be what my twenty-two-year old is busy making now, and how beautiful the table setting is going to be, but one thing I'm very sure is that a lot of love and effort is put in to make this day very special for me. No doubt, whatever is served tonight is going to be the most tasties in my palet and whatever is set on the table is going to look the loveliest in my eyes. What better gift could I ask other than this precious gift of love?

It had been six decades and four years since I let out my first cry on a tiny island in the middle of Indian oceon. Yes, I was born long time ago in the other side of the world,  when people there wake up to go to work, we, in this part of the world hurry back home in heavy traffic after long hours of work .Yes, I've been blessed to have lived in both of these two worlds, which are  far and wide apart in culture, taste and view of life.

 Looking back, I'm amazed how many places I've lived , how many countries I've visited, how many people I have met, how many friendships I've made in my life span. Yes, I've seen some of the wonders of the world like the Taj Mahal, Great wall of China, Eiffel Tower, Sistine chapel, etc. I had also seen the ugliness of injustice, devastation of ethnic war and  plight of poverty. I had walked down the steps of Buckingham palace in England and Versilles in France. I had also walked down the streets with my four -year old in my homeland while bullets rained down from helicopters and had experienced taking shelter in backyard bunkers when the sound of shellings blasted the air. Yes,in my memory I've pictures of laughter and cries, whoops of joy and wails of loss.  Courage and fear kept alternating and challenged my faith at times. Excitement and disappointment brushed different shade of color to the picture.

Tonight, as I sit here gray haired (dyed pitch black) and pounding words onto my blog screen, I can't thank the Lord enough for His  countless blessings. I thank Him for taking me through rocky paths and flowery meadows to make the person who I am today and where I'm today in my life. I may be qualified to be called a senior next year, but I still feel young at heart and much busier than years before.
I do work part-time, lead a writer's group and Bible study group. The days I've lived are God's gift to me, and how I lived those days are my gifts to the Lord. I cannot see what the days ahead behold for me, but I do know the One, who hold my days in His calendar!***

Precious Lord, Help us to Rest

Precious Lord,

Each moment I spend with you is precious and holy; but it doesn't always seem precious to me because of the state of mind I'm in, when I bend my knees before you. Sometimes, I'm too sleepy or lazy to see it's preciousness, other times I'm too much in a hurry to savor its holiness or too bogged down with anxiety and worry that I fail to cherish the moment.

Lord, help me not to see prayer as  mundane, a thing I should do out of duty. Instead let me long  after as a deer panteth after water. Let me seek you early in the morning as king David whose flesh and soul thirsted after you in earnestness.

Today is Sunday, a sabbath day was assigned for believers to rest and worship. God almighty designed Sabbath to be holy, set it aside for His people to stop doing anywork and to come before Him in worship and to meditate on His ways. But as always, people had made Your commandment, which was meant to rejuvenate their spirit and body, a heavy burdon to carry. It became all about do's and don'ts. Love and grace were barred from entry in their favor of religiousity.

Lord , it was You who came to correct and tell them, "Sabbath was made for man, and man was not made for Sabbath."  As always, people had taken that too to another extreme,  to the extent that Sabbath today is just like any other with a small difference. Yes, we  Christians go to church on this day to worship on a fairly regular basis.  But  do we really rest from  our hurriedness and feed on His faithfuness so that we are equipped to face the challenges of another week of work. Probably not. It's sad, but true, we've forgotten the meaning of rest these days.
Teach us Lord how to slow down and even to stop doing things that are not important in heaven's point of view. Coach us to breathe easy even things around us go round and round. Help us to rest in You and to rest on the Sabbath so that our minds and bodies are  relaxed and rejuvenated to serve You more effectively. Amen ***

It's A God's Thing

"It's a God thing." Yes, that's what I said to Shana last night, when she complimented me for what I do for our writer's group. I didn't  throw those words just to sound spiritual or as a cliche, but I truly meant it what I said.

This evening was one of the most enjoyable writers' meeting I ever had. There were lots of laughter, reading, sharing and learning. We had eight in total for attendance except for Cathy who couldn't be there because of her father-in -laws death, and Claris, whose car's fuel tank gave up on her when she tried to come for the meeting. Our ears were perked up when Sermsee's shared her experience with NaNoWriMo- writing a novel of 50,000wds in one month. It's the first time I came to hear about NaNoWriMo, and if saying the word could make my tongue twist,   wonder what and all of me would start to twist if I've signed up for that challenge.  I can't even imagine of writing anything beyond 5,0000wds, and what am I going to do for the rest of the words. Borrow? But it's so great to have someone in our group who was brave enough to take the challenge.

Brave? Here comes our next subject-Tianyu. How else can I term someone who took a sunrise hike with her adorable ten-year old son Timothy up a mountain cluttered with loose rocks and dark bushes in the early hours of the day, when the world around was dark and asleep? Just a small torch in hand to guide her steps and her son's, she took the challenge to see the sun's glory at the top of the mountain with no one around, but God alone. Yes, it must have been a holy experience for her, and I wish I too could go on a hike like her. However, going on a hike is something my body will never dare to do. So, why bother?

It was very interesting to listen to what Sermsee, Tianyu and young Victoria read. As always, Odetta was open to share her thoughts and knowledge to spice up the mood and interest in the group and the rest of the group, though kept quiet, I assume, were busy soaking up new ideas and storing them for future use.

Once back home, I couldn't thank the Lord enough for bringing these ladies to the group and enriching our writing life. Yes, it is He had brought them. Not me, or anyone else. It's not our doing. It's all His. He alone knows what's up in the future for each of us and how He's going to direct and fulfill His plan.

It's so amazing how this group was formed, and more amazing how I was given a role to play in it. Never had  I imagined myself leading a writer's group before. Never! But it happened.  When Shana, our leader at the Women's Bible study once asked the ladies at the S-H-A-P-E meeting, what  ideas we've got for new ministries at church, without thinking even for a moment, I blurted out writer's group or book club. Shana could have easily brushed off my idea. But she didn't. She stood there, her loving face beaming like a fullmoon and said "Sulo, I like that idea. Why don't you start a writer's group." Now it was my turn to brush her off. But I didn't. To my surprise, for once, I chose to obey without groping for any excuses. For the next couple of days, I was on my knees asking God to bail me out, but He chose to keep silent. I had no choice but to follow His leading there onwards.

So in Summer this year(2010,) we launched the group with five ladiesfrom our Bible study. It was somewhat a pioneer project, which could be continued in the Fall, if  interest in writing still persisted. We met bi-monthly on Mondays and the ladies kept to their regular attendance and writing interest. Our church gave permission to use it's name and soon we became Grace Point Women's Writers' Group. For Fall, Shana suggested we follow a book for instruction and I said amen to that. The good news was that I didn't need to look anywhere far to look for one, for within my reach, on my bookshelf stood a book tall and prim titled- An Introduction to Christian Writing. It had very good reviews and seemed like an ideal book for our group.

Strangely it may sound, I had bought that book two years back on Amazon.com for no particular reason. I've read a few chapters, highlighted few passages in lime-green color and stuck it among my books on the shelf and left it untouched until late this Summer. What made me to purchase that book two years earlier? I don't know. Why should this very book catch my eye when I was thinking of going to the library to find a suitable one for the writer's group? I don't know it either. Everything was falling in line as it was preplanned by someone unseen. Was there someone orchestrating behind the scene well before the thought of forming a writing group occured to our mind. Definitely. That's why I see this as a God thing.

It's God who had handpicked the ladies and brought them to the group. He who has gifted them knows what these writers are capable of and how best He can use them. He also knows that they need to be brought under a safe and suitable environment to grow and flourish. He knows our strength and weakness and in no way He considers one above the other. Some are quiet and confident; some are outspoken and supportive, while some are funny and inspiring. Yes, God Almighty, takes pleasure in making a pot-pouri of talents and personalities. He wants the best for us and He wants our best for Him. What better way to purpose His plan other than bringing us all under one roof -Grace Point Women's Writers' Group. That's why I see this as God's Thing from the very beginning.