Inside Mae

Today was extra special because Dadi Pawie and Ellieboo picked me up and dropped me off at work since Pawie was off. On our way home, Pawie shared a sweet conversation he had with Elle in the car: Elle: "Daddy, I was never lost." Daddy: "Why?" Elle: "Because you and mommy never lost me." Her words hit me deeply, especially alongside today’s Gospel about the Lost Sheep. (August 11, 2026) In the Gospel, the Shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to go after the one who strays. We often focus on the feeling of being lost... the panic. But listening to Ellieboo, I realized something beautiful about love and security... a child who feels completely held never experiences the fear of being lost. Im thankful, I think we unlocked the absolute trust of Elle in our presence. She knows that no matter where she turns, our eyes are on her, and our arms are ready to catch her. In the same way, the Parable of the Ninety-Nine isn't just about God finding us after we wander.....

  We rejoice not just for what God has done, but in God Himself. We, as Christians, have every reason to rejoice. But if we are honest, our joy is often depending to our circumstances. We rejoice when our prayers are answered exactly how we envisioned. Yet, the deepest well of Christian joy doesn't depend on the hands of the clock or the state of our lives. We rejoice not just for what God has done, but in  God Himself . We are rejoicing in the Creator rather than the creation; the Giver rather than the gift. He is the only constant in a world of variables. He is justice when the ground beneath us gives way. To rejoice in God Himself is to look at the vast, chaotic canvas of the universe and realize that the One who holds it all together is not a distant force, but a personal Father. It is the quiet confidence that even if everything we see were stripped away tomorrow,  He remains , and therefore, our foundation remains. But here is the most beautiful realization of all, ...

  Sometimes loneliness is the price you pay for growth. Becoming a new version of yourself almost always requires leaving parts of your old world behind. When you commit to your mental health, you naturally stop fitting into the spaces you used to occupy. A temporary void forms as you step away from habits that no longer serve you. You find yourself no longer belonging to your past but not yet fully anchored in your future. This isolation is a necessary byproduct of shedding distraction. Growth forces you to confront yourself, stripping away the noise we often use to drown out our inner voices. When you stop socializing just to avoid silence, a profound stillness takes over. While this stillness can initially feel like abandonment, it is actually a sacred emptying. You are learning to sit with your own mind, establishing a foundation of self-reliance so that your future connections are built on mutual appreciation rather than a desperate need for validation. In many ways, personal ...

  There is a specific kind of bravery required to put on a smiling face for the world while fighting an internal war. This sentiment speaks directly to that hidden battleground, acknowledging that nearly everyone has a chapter of their life they refuse to read aloud. Whether it is a lingering regret, a sharp heartbreak, a past trauma, or simply the overwhelming pressure of daily expectations, it honors the validity of the suffering that never makes it into conversation. Often, we keep these struggles locked away not out of stubbornness, but because human language simply fails us. Some pains are too complex to be neatly wrapped in words, while others feel far too fragile to expose to the outside world, where they might face judgment or misunderstanding. The beauty of this thought lies in its bypassing of the need for explanation. It implies that a higher power does not require a flawless confession to offer comfort.  Our pain is fully seen even when we lack the words or the str...

  This timeless truth addresses the exact boundary line where human limitation meets divine infinity. When we find ourselves staring at a wall, a dead end, or a crisis with no visible exit, our natural instinct is to assume that because we cannot see a solution, one must not exist.  However, this perspective forgets that our vision is bound by time, space, and circumstance, whereas God operates entirely outside of those constraints.  When you feel trapped by your circumstances, it is an invitation to shift your gaze from the obstacle to the Creator. He does not need an existing path to rescue you or move you forward; He specializes in making a way where there is absolutely no human precedent for one, carving rivers through deserts and parting seas that seem impassable. The phrase reminds us that our inability to figure things out is never a surprise to God, nor is it a hindrance to His plans. His strategy is not dependent on our logic, our resources, or our understanding ...

  — Isaiah 41:9 When the Creator declares, "I have chosen you; I haven’t rejected you," it is not a passive acknowledgment but an active, deliberate rescue mission.  To be chosen means we were intentionally selected out of a multitude, desired for exactly who we are, and brought into a covenant of belonging. It implies a conscious decision made by God, one that looked at our entire existence, flaws and all, and still said, "This one is mine." The second half of the statement, "I haven't rejected you," is perhaps even more comforting because it directly combats the lingering anxiety of abandonment. It serves as a definitive reassurance that our past failures, present struggles, and future missteps do not have the power to reverse His initial choice. Human relationships can be fragile, often fracturing when expectations are not met, but divine election is resolute. By explicitly stating that He has not cast us off, God is silencing the internal and exter...

  Trusting God is a lot like trading in your own limited map for a much bigger, more detailed one. When you stop trying to white-knuckle every outcome, you move from a place of constant worry into a space of quiet expectancy. It’s in that surrender where you start to notice those "only God" moments. The perfect timing, the unexpected peace, or the way a closed door actually ends up being a huge favor. The more you let go of the "how," the more room there is for Him to show up in ways that actually make sense of the struggle you went through. It builds this incredible cycle: the more you see Him come through for you, the easier it becomes to lean on Him the next time, turning your life into a series of moments that leave you constantly wondering how things worked out so much better than you ever could have planned. Kapag nag-decide ka na i-let go ’yung control at talagang mag-trust sa Kanya, doon mo marerealize na His plans are way better than our "perfect"...

 Paano ko nga ba sisimulan? Hmmm, looking back, hindi ko aakalain na kakayanin ko lahat. From the sleepless nights to the endless cuddles, and cries, and laughs, and tulala momets. Tlagang being a mom has been my wildest but most beautiful journey. It’s not always perfect, and definitely not easy, but seeing my bebebubu makes every struggle worth it. I may say, I am proudof how far I’ve come. Akala ko noon, alam ko na ang lahat. But being a mom taught me a different kind of strength and patience. I’m learning, growing, and failing sometimes , aand that’s okay. This is me, embracing the chaos and the joy of this lifelong role. This motherhood journey is a literal rollercoaster tlaga. There are days na pagod, but always, always full of love. Just a mom doing her best and enjoying every milestone of my baby Elle na pinanganak bilang spider girl. 😅 Kaya naman, to the moms who feel exhausted but keep going, to those who are still learning the ropes, and to those who pour everything for...

  What a beautyyyy-full-circle moment. Im feeling overflowing joy& gratitude! 🥹 This year’s Easter celebration will hold in my heart forever. To see my little one joins the  Angels  for the first time during the  Salubong  felt like watching a literal miracle unfold. At just two years old, there she was, so small yet so brave. My heart nearly burst when I heard her voice joining the song with the other angels. To hear her sing s “Reyna ng Langit"  and  "Regina Caeli"  with such sweetness and clarity… I honestly couldn’t hold back the tears. It’s one thing her dada Pawie teaches her these songs at home, but to see her lift her voice in celebration with everyone else was a "proud mama" moment beyond words. The most special part of the morning was tucked into the very stitches of her dress. Looking at her, I didn’t just see an angel, I saw a beautiful bridge between our past and our present. I spent time manually sewing, repurposing the very sam...