2021: Rebuilding with Purpose

 

he silence has finally lifted, and with it came a wave of quiet relief—like the first breath after being underwater for far too long. I receive it as an answered prayer.

Thank You, Lord, for Your unseen guidance, for leading me through a path where I was able to step away with grace. I carry the experience not as a wound, but as a lesson… and even, in some ways, a beautiful memory of growth.

Perhaps I may be starting again from the beginning—but beginnings are sacred. They are where hope is born.

This year, 2021, I have finally gathered the courage to reshape parts of myself. To become clearer about the life I truly want to live. To choose health—of body, mind, and spirit. Life is fleeting, like mist dissolving under the morning sun, and I long to spend my remaining years with a heart anchored in positivity and purpose.

I am ready to release negativity, for I have seen how it dims the natural beauty of life.

Life is brief, yet powerful. And I want to invest mine into something meaningful—something that glorifies God. Something that will leave a gentle mark of love, faith, and purpose long after I am gone.

And so, here are the promises I am making to myself:

1. Financial Stability
To face my responsibilities with courage. To settle my debts. To build an emergency fund—my shield against life’s unexpected storms.

2. Healthy Living
To nourish my body with vibrant fruits and vegetables. To move, to exercise, to honor the body God has entrusted to me.

3. Writing
To remain faithful to my words. To create, to express, to document thoughts and stories that may one day touch another soul.

4. Learning New Things
To stay curious. To learn cooking, to explore parenting (yes, even if it makes me smile saying it), and to remain open to growth in all seasons of life.

5. The Bible
To complete reading the entire book before the year ends. To deepen my relationship with God. To share devotional reflections that may inspire, comfort, and guide others who are also searching for light.

This is not just a list.
This is a covenant with the person I am becoming.
A promise to live intentionally.
A promise to grow.
A promise to walk closely with God, wherever the road may lead.

Between Thoughts and Breaths

  

December 28, 2020 — Day One

It was a morning wrapped in quiet gloom, my heart heavier than the rain-laced sky above me. I walked along a mist-veiled street, clutching my black umbrella like a fragile shield against emotions I could not quite name.

Mid-step, I froze—wondering why such deep, uninvited pain had settled inside me. Thoughts swirled like storm clouds, pressing against my mind until breathing itself felt like a task.

I felt lost… untethered from time. The world blurred at the edges, like a painting smudged by unseen hands. Without much thought, I hailed a taxi—perhaps hoping movement would quiet the chaos within me.

My chest pounded wildly, as if trying to outrun my consciousness. I gathered what remained of my senses and forced a small, fragile smile—an attempt to trick my mind, even if only for a moment.

The silence was so consuming that even the nearby hum of jeepneys felt distant. Outside the taxi window, the world passed as vague streaks of motion, unreal and far away.

When the taxi stopped, I stepped back into routine, performing my duties as expected—unaware that an assessment awaited me. A one-on-one meeting with my superior.

A part of me trembled with nervousness, yet I chose calmness as my armor. I listened, quietly sorting through the tides of my thoughts. I knew I had room to grow. Anxiety lingered, yet relief followed close behind, like a gentle exhale after holding breath for too long.

---

December 29, 2020

The thought lingered, a quiet echo I couldn’t escape. In the solitude of the bathroom, I allowed myself to cry—whispering prayers only heaven could hear.

I told myself to stand firm. To let God guide my steps. To gather strength enough to face reality, no matter how heavy it felt.

I buried myself in the tasks laid across my table, trying to anchor my emotions through productivity—seeking validation, stability, grounding.

I reminded myself:

It is okay not to be okay.

It is human to feel pain.

It is human to experience the full spectrum of existence—

To love,

To break,

And to heal.

---

December 30, 2020

I tried to calm my spirit, letting soft Christian hymns wrap around my thoughts as I organized my space.

I made my bed carefully, prepared clothes and linens for laundry—simple acts of order against the noise in my mind.

Still, the murmurs in my head would not quiet.

I returned to sleep, letting motivational words play softly, hoping they would soothe the unrest in my soul. Later, I stepped outside for a walk and unexpectedly passed by a massage parlor—an ordinary place in an extraordinary moment of searching.

Then I met an old friend—a former churchmate. Time dissolved between us. We spoke, shared, listened. She welcomed my thoughts without judgment, just as I listened to hers. And in that exchange, something inside me felt lighter.

---

December 31, 2020

Illness settled into my body like an unwelcome guest. I hesitated about going to Arrezo Place for New Year celebrations.

Instead, I spent the day alone—curled on my bed, watching dreamers and creators chase their aspirations through the screen.

I called my housemate to say I wasn’t feeling well. I knew my body and mind needed rest more than celebration.

And strangely, I was okay with solitude.

I steamed hotdogs and embutido before taking my medicine—small comforts in a quiet room.

The heaviness remained. I spoke to God constantly, searching for a path where I could hear Him clearly. Yet silence answered me, like trying to tame an elusive lion hidden deep within its den.

Still… I held on to one truth:

God gave me strength.

And sometimes, that is enough to keep moving forward.

---

January 1, 2021

Happy New Year.

I refused to let sorrow define my first sunrise of the year. I messaged my brother, reminding him how deeply I love him.

Now, I write these thoughts—raw, unfiltered, real. Please bear with me. I am learning to translate emotions into purpose.

Soft, calming sounds fill the air, helping my mind find focus, like stars aligning after a stormy night.

Today, I choose productivity.

Today, I choose healing.

Today, I choose to keep going.