Run To Me (Original)

It only took simple passage to realize how I am love.

Life is very difficult. There will be no perfection on earth but we can’t give up. We have to keep up with the race and know that when we are torn and too tired God will always pick us up. There’s no greater love and greater strength but from our God who keep us alive because He lives.

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” Corinthians 9:24

God bless everyone.

Here’s the lyrics:

Run, run to me, run to me
There’s no way out, no way out
But me.

You see that road
Look ahead
Come straight to me.

Lay your burdens down
Give it all to me.

Run, run to me, run to me
There’s no way out, no way out
But me.

Stay in my secret place,
Healing is here,
You’ll be amazed.

You won’t be denied,
My love is enough,
For you to survive.

Run, run to me, run to me
There’s no way out, no way out
But me.

You’ll live
As long as I live
Just come to me.

You’ll live
As long as I live.

Run, Run, run to me and live

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When Your Child Wants To Quit (What Would You Do?)

She was practicing in her room, counting out loud as she pressed each keys on her keyboard. I heard a lot of pauses. She played again, counted again and this time with the metronome… it was not that long til I heard another pause, and then no music.

I heard her running to the kitchen. She had tears in her eyes and a very unhappy face as she leaned against the wall. She actually looked so cute standing there wearing her pink long sleeve shirt and on her underwear, and the music book in her hand, slightly pouty lips trying to disclose the most terrible moment of her life and sparkly big tears behind her glasses.

I know what she was going to tell me and I can read her facial expression. She stated she wants to quit piano lesson and she does not like it anyway.

Looking at her so disappointed, I wanted to remind her that she cannot quit music. She knows that. We talked about it before. And she is doing well. Telling her no right at that moment would make her feel worst though.

When Your Child Wants To Quit photo

She was very concern. She was not ready for today’s session. She was having a hard time to count as she read the notes and play at the same time. It confused her. She cannot concentrate.

We did not have enough time to discuss about quitting and issue behind her disappointment. Instead, we got ourselves ready and head to see her teacher.

She probably thought we would cancel.

I did wish I have the knowledge about music and that I can find the right words or even a little piece of advice in that aspect. All I know is I can play a guitar and read the chords and that’s it.

So, as a mom who knows so little about music education I thought that I am not in a position to handle her difficulty to catch up.

When Your Child Wants To Quit photo 2I said to her that “Your teacher knows you better. She knows your strength and she knows your weakness. It’s okay if she notice you struggling and I know she will work with you. She will find a way.”

We got out of the house. She had her designated bag for piano lesson. I checked it while walking to the car and I noticed she did not have the right book in. I was quick to think that she probably intend to forget it, but I chose to shut my mouth and went back in the house and grabbed the book instead.

I joked to wipe her tears before she meet her teacher because I did not want her to think I beat the crap out of her.

She did great according to what her teacher told her.

She was a bit embarrassed to go back to one part of her old lesson or music sheet just so she can count, it was at slower pace but at the right rhythm.

I am a very emotional person and that means I was happy and teary eyed as I listen her play because I saw how stressed she was and how quick she decided to just quit.

I realized that sometimes telling her “You’ll be fine or You’ll do great” is not the best I can do, although I often resort to that to make her feel better, because in reality she have moments of not feeling great, and struggling. I want the best for her. I would do everything when I can, but there are times that the right person who knows where to lead and guide her on that particular situation can do better than me, her piano teacher.

Not to sound like I am a pro with parenting, but I try to remind her that life is not perfect. She can’t just quit. She can’t always get what she want. There will be frustrations and difficulties but she has to deal with it, and whatever it is, she needs the right attitude to deal with it.

 Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it. I Cor. 9:24


P.S Here’s a conversation we had long time ago that pertains to quitting (sort of). She heard her father and I so stressed/complaining about work.

Our Daughter: “Mama, just quit your job.”
Mama: “You can’t just quit. It’s part of life.” “Did Papa quit?”
Our Daughter: “No.”
Papa: “What if your Mom decided to quit when she was pushing you out of her belly?”
Our Daughter: (Silence)…. “but it was not a job.”

No One Is Like Our God (Original)

I am a thriving creation of the Lord who admits to be imperfect and amidst all my failures I witness His greatness and that leads me to give Him praise and acknowledge His grace. This song kept popping out in my head and my heart started to singing it … while trying to get stuff done in the house because it was my day off. I believe prayer does not have to be in a perfect place and perfect mood to impress Him. God listens with a grateful heart, He pays attention even to the ones who thinks they have the smallest voice.

God bless everyone and be glad there is no one like Him.

No One Is Like Our God by C.G

Who walked in water
Who rebuked the storm
The One who is risen from the dead.

Who shed His blood
Who took the shame
To pay for our sins.

Who is majestic
Riding in the clouds
Who promise to return.

No one, no one, no one is like you, Oh God

Who fill my cup
When it is empty
No one but You God.

Who shine the light
In the path of darkness
No one but You God.

You think you are forsaken
Your world is crumbling down
You can run to the God of love.

Forgiveness will be given
Burdens will be light
Joy in Him you’ll find.

You can run to Him
You don’t have to be ashamed 2x

Everyone Has A Hole In Their Socks

A poem I turned into a song for our daughter. I hope she realizes that she is not alone when she stumble life’s unfairness….. and it is okay when life is not perfect. Despite all the craziness in the world, there are so much she can be grateful for.

Everyone has a hole in their socks,

Sometimes even mismatch.

It may seems funny and you think it’s odd,

You still can wear it, please don’t feel sad.

Don’t be embarrassed, it’s not that bad,

It covers your feet, don’t fret.

Some kids are bare feet walking in the street,

They’re still happy with their dirty feet.

We can patch that hole color in pink,

Blue or black or whatever you think.

Or just wear the one I found under the sink,

I saved and washed it because it stink.

Oh daughter, don’t be bothered,

Everyone has a hole in their socks.

Give me a smile then, don’t start a fit,

If you refuse, I’ll tickle your feet.

– Chelle G. –

Scent And Music Takes Me Back In Time

There are things that take me back in time – images of events, places, and people. It could be from a photo, fashion, a scar (physically or emotionally), somebody’s cooking, gestures, scents or somebody’s situation where probably I was before. It could be a happy or sad memory, or something worth sharing and to laugh about, inspiring or embarrassing.

But scents and music are the two things that quickly trigger a lot of memories in my head.

I can see the image of my mom playing her guitar sitting on a Banig (native sleeping mat) on the floor using an improvised Lamparilla to lit up our living room and help her read her song book. Her favorite hits were Obladi Obladi by The Beatles, Boulevard by Dan Byrd, Changes In My Life by Jed Madela – she played this song hundred times and she even taught me to sing it with action, Paper Roses by Marie Osmond – this is the very first song I heard her play with her guitar and mind you, if I give her a guitar now, she will do this song in a heart beat. I can see mom’s fingers forming the basic chords and her strumming. She played well. Her voice was music in our home.

We did not have electricity growing up. You would know which one was our house because the only household that is not bright at night was ours; and we lived right at the corner of the street. At least, the street light gives off light thru our two windows. My mom had a battery operated radio, she would turn it on for weather forecast and when her favorite soap opera, Matud Nila, is on.

See, this is what music do to me. This reminds me how much I have to be thankful for. We grow up poor. Those were the old days when my Dad pursue college while working in his parent’s rice field, and at the same time, him and mom have the five of us. I used to carry an empty pot to my grandparents’ to be filled with rice and sometimes come home still empty. I remember my mom would tell me not to swing the aluminum pot when it is empty as I walk home so that our neighbors would not know that we don’t have rice for dinner. The lid would come off down to the unpaved road and would make noise and probably caught our neighbor’s attention.  We would end up eating Saba  (Plantain Banana) served with Kalamay (round candy that taste like molasses) to make it taste better.

When I was a baker at Dunkin Donuts, the smell of Sour Cream Donut reminds me of my mom’s deep-fried donut. It brings me back to those memories where I had to crack the Bagol (coconut shell), pile it up in a certain way to start a fire in our Sug-angan (cooking pit). My mother did not know how to cook until when my father left to work overseas. She leaped for joy the first time she cooked Pancit (rice noodles). She was so proud of herself. When we had a Carenderia (local eatery), I was her helper in the kitchen. I was 12 years old and we would wake up at 4 o’clock in the morning and walk from our house to the eatery. We had to wake up that early so Mother can get fresh meat in the market and we had to cut the freaking meat depending on what recipe she have in mind.  I said freaking meat because I hated cutting 10 to 15 lbs. of meat. Unlike here, the meat are already cut. We would start cooking as early as we can, when we’re done I would go back to sleep with sore muscles in my shoulder, wake up and get ready for school. I got a break from being a cook when I went to college, but when I am home particularly on weekends, I had to help. I have four siblings but she preferred to have me as helper because I know how to cook. Growing up, my chore in the house was more in the kitchen that includes cleaning, washing the dishes and cooking our meal. While my sister was with the laundry and ironing and cleaning the living room.

During my Dad’s vacation, we would cook together too. We would listen to music and play guessing game. We would guess of who the artist is from the song we were listening. Up to this day, I can see my Dad and I in that old “dirty kitchen” (extra kitchen outside) cooking together and competing to that game. He love to lay down, shirtless, on our concrete floor as he listens to his loud music. The red concrete floor was a good spot for us inside the house when it is too hot out. When the temperature “goes down” especially in the afternoon, we would ride a moped (motorbike).

Music has been part of me growing up. Dad got me a keyboard but I was not good at it. Maybe we live too far from the city where I could have gone for a piano lesson. But I love playing the guitar (I still do). I really did not care much about going out with friends in the weekend. As kids, plus I am a girl, I should be learning to do chores in the house according to my parents. The break I could get was playing the guitar, sing-a-long with a minus one tape and pretend I am a song writer. I did join a singing competition once where I forgot the lyrics and heard the crowd oohed. It was embarrassing. It was nuts.

I have a lot to write. I do have sad memories too, but I prefer the good ones. Something that makes me smile.

And by the way, when I smell the Christian Dior Poison Perfume (aInay Nenita Jan 2014 present my mom used to get when my Dad would come home from overseas), it reminds me of my mom and I at the Pawnshop lending her piece of jewelry when money is short, and we would ride the public bus going home with lots of food for my brothers and sister, and I would tell her, “Nanay , you smell like an angel.”