Tag Archives: Spiritual

Walking Life through the Camino de Santiago Pilgrimage

Camino calls, Camino provides.
Life calls, life provides.
God calls, God provides.

“Who would like to come to the pulpit to read the scripture for the mass?” a gentle-voice priest gestured.

“I would,” I raised my hand and I read Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

It was the day after our 5-day pilgrim’s walk to Santiago or better known as the Camino de Santiago. After attending several masses in Spanish which we couldn’t understand, we looked forward to attending a mass in English to end our pilgrimage. To our surprise, there were only the three of us, Annie, Joani, and I. Instead of a Spanish priest, in front of us stood Father Manuel, a priest from the Philippines.

Continue reading Walking Life through the Camino de Santiago Pilgrimage
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Learning to Travel as Five Adults

“The air con is too cold!”

“Don’t talk so loud in the room!”

“I can’t stand having all the shoes scattered across the room!”

“Don’t go around in your boxer shorts! We got girls here.”

“No talking during quiet hours means no noise, including organizing your bags.”

“It is common sense to talk to your friends outside the room, not here.”

And the list goes on…

Continue reading Learning to Travel as Five Adults

Life Prevails – Lessons from the Negev Desert of Israel

“Boom!…Boom!…” the earth trembled with hollow echoes from a distance.

“What is that?!” I gasped.

“Bombings from artillery.”

Wide-eyed with disbelief, I stared at Steve. He didn’t say anything more, and so I kept silent.

“Ta ta ta ta a ta….ta ta ta ta ta…ta ta ta ta…”

I whipped my head around again and asked, “What is that sound?”

“Machine gun sound—”

Before I even had a chance to respond, a loud noise boomed from the sky overpowering all conversation. Four F-161 fighter jets streaked right above us in a straight line over the orchard.

Steve looked me and smiled: “Don’t worry, you’ll get use to it.” Continue reading Life Prevails – Lessons from the Negev Desert of Israel

Packing Up the Tent

Last night I packed up the tent in my Grandma’s backyard. It may seem like a simple task, but the stories and meanings behind this task was very heart breaking and emotional. Packing up the tent felt like breaking a fragile porcelain bowl filled with precious droplets of memories—memories of my family and our one-year journey together. Nostalgia and sorrow flooded over me like a tidal wave crashing into an earthen wall. Why does packing up this tent bring me so much pain? Why is this empty space covered by a tarp have so much meaning and significance? Continue reading Packing Up the Tent

Dad, My Comfort Zone

Relationships don’t happen over night; they are built. My dad and I learned this the hard way through years of practice and patience. Perhaps it was because our personalities were so similar, or how we are both so stubborn, I butted heads with my dad a lot when I was little. We fought from little things like when to say “please” and “thank you”, to the correct standards of being “fair”, to bigger things like how long I should be enrolled in Chinese school. However, through these cross fires we learned to give and take, understood each other better, and realized how to give love in a way the other could receive. He became my friend. Through our time brewing relationship, my dad has gradually become my adviser, playmate, and comforter, molding himself into someone I’m comfortable with—my comfort zone. Continue reading Dad, My Comfort Zone