H U R T S U R G E O N

Peter was full of bravado.

He considered his affiliation with Jesus one that merits his credentials.

He both privately and publicly declared his self-actualized identity as the most faithful follower of the Messiah.

But loyalty is not measured by advertising. It comes from pure metrics of unbridled obedience.

Three times he denied Christ in public.

It required three public resections of his restorative recommissioning.

“Do you love me?”

“Do you love me?”

“Do you love me?”

“Don’t be a pastor.”

“Begin pastoring My own. And be sure, to touch them gently with your acquired embrace.”

Yes, Lord … you know my bankruptcy.

Enable me O Lord, henceforth.

Three Times

Jesus asked Simon Peter if he loved Him. Not once. Not twice. Three times.

There is something both hidden and obvious within this redundancy. Such deep inquiry are not intrusions but vehicles to help us process honest truth.

Love is not a language. Love is a person.

God is that Person.

If we do not know Jesus, we are kidding others and more cruelly, ourselves.

And three times over, this is thrice the truth.

Grant

A Christmas 🏋🏼 Toy

(Reflections of a 63 year old boy)

It is almost Christmas and the crisp tearing of colorful wrappers once again unravel the worth of yearly affection.

I grew up always wishing to get the best toys but for some hidden reasons, I always felt that I did not deserve receiving such.

At best, I got plastic toy soldiers in a flimsy bag while my sister got the state of the art pinball machine.

“Ho-hum, Fi-fi-fo-fum.”

I’d always walk to the marketplace and peer with bridled excitement into the stateside steel toy cars (Matchbox©️) that were only available at the Good Luck bazaar. There was obviously, no luck for me every single Christmas.

This narrative somehow drove into my psyche an inferior image that I was always meant to be marginal.

On  the fence, barely inside.

And then, one day … my mother gifted me with what was during my time “the mother of all exercise gadgets” … the BullWorker©️.

I was reed thin. But daily submission to isometrics changed my physique. Somehow, I had hope of crossing the fence.

To this day, I exercise daily. As I reflect, one does religious obsessions to be reminded that one somehow matters.

It is always a good day, when Good Luck brings me a good gift.

But

There always is the better largesse. It is when the Good Provider leads me to the best option: the simple discovery that I do not need toys to validate my worth nor core six packs to regulate my esteem.

Contentment is the ironic best gift that only comes through the Person who authored the first and only Christmas©️.

I have been given all things in Christ.

Since he did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won’t he also give us everything else? [Romans 8:32 NLT]

(Russell Diwa: Aboard Southwest Airlines flight to Birmingham, Alabama on November 23, 2024)

Bingo

Luck is never trustworthy. God’s word is. But why do we marginalize truth and make sublime our deception? This is the reason why God had to interrupt our insanity by entering our silly games to introduce the gravitas of his Being.

{🔍lens capture: Marcus Tortorici | locus: Palawan, Philippines June 2024}

Lukewarm

We gravitate towards superstition and ignore supernatural grace and refer to it as faith. Our creative machinations are mere psychological doctrines cloak in scriptural gibberish. We drift away from the Redeemer and race slowly towards destruction.

Gas Lit

The insidious nature of gaslighting presents a masquerade that is obviously untrustworthy. Pseudo-friends remain detached but with a feigned appearance of unity. The Psalmist speaks of this duplicity by citing the citizens of Meshak & Kedar. How long O Lord must I bear this allergen?

Sacred Work

Manual work converts us to see labor through the hard life of the solitary Carpenter whose ripped muscles dripped obedient acids to finish the hidden work that solely matters: the Glory of the only One who completes every Work.

Suddenly, a dead man working gains life and begins to work for the first time towards Eternal Applause.

Offensive Joke

I speak weekly before an audience who choose to rely upon what little gravitas I have to navigate the intricacies of life as lived together with them. I always ponder the unrelenting responsibility to pastor my congregation with words that are somehow prone to abuse or lift the souls of despondency. The hardest task is to discern where the people are when I open my mouth. More often, I am but a myopic microphone providing loose pegs that float without anchored context.

I was listening hard for Jokoy during the Golden Globes 2024 event, and amidst the challenging atmosphere, I saw myself … sighing with ulcer-like spasms on what he must have felt when the blow torch of free speech lit up the night with divisive rhetoric.

Words are not mere alphabets. They have the power to kill or give life.

I find myself a “Jokoy” at times.

Either I choose death over my stumbling craft or I regroup and start anew to trust this simple yet wild tool of seeking to tell you that I do really care but weak enough to fumble and look like a fool and hope for a day that I look more like a sincere human being who has truly spoken from his heart.

Yahoo Men

The lies of men are beguiling only to themselves. The mastery of deceit takes the form of art but not before the peering eyes of the Lord God Almighty.

In His gaze, all black turns crystal. The masks are exposed. Manipulation and duplicity rise in public stare as the suave perpetrator receives proper judgment.

Woe to these boys who seek to prey on the innocent. They shall all be tied with stones that’ll be thrown towards the base floors.

Once upon a Time

The elusive search for a spouse escapes the precision of analysis. My journey towards my present blessing of marriage is favored and flavored by grace alone. Once upon a time, I chose to entrust my heart to God’s infinite counsel and the find was epic.

34 years since, I have been ruminating on my unworthiness and God’s apparent cancellation of my inherent status. I have been blessed beyond measure, beyond my competence, beyond my ask, beyond any of my foolish pretensions.

Manel has lived with me this past three decades and I can only wish for an eternity more.

© 2016 Oil and Dew Ltd