I added this post as a permanent page that shows up when you view Pages. I hope it may bless you, dear reader.
I am what you call an old soul.
Even as a kid, I took things seriously.
And stuff I knew I had no control over, I would constantly stress about.
One source of stress was how people would react to how I acted in public. As a kid of a government official, I was told by my aunt that my actions would reflect on him, which felt like a gigantic burden on my shoulders.
Most of the time I felt “OK.” I was an all-around “good” girl anyway. I got good grades in school, and ironically, ran for class or student council positions as well and often led projects.
A classmate in college called me a chameleon, because I could easily blend into every economic bracket situation.
At home though, outside of the public eye, I was unkind to our household help, and would even disrespect my maternal grandmother who lived with us, and she would call me “salbahe”. She had a point though - aside from the disrespect, I also took something that wasn’t mine from a classmate as early as 1st grade, and I would lie, I dabbled in going to a manghuhula, as well as pornography.
My parents raised me to believe in God, but I had so many questions that adults had difficulty answering. Whenever I got the answer to a “Why do we have to do this?” by way of “Oh that’s a tradition; it’s always been like that” I would frequently get irritated. They were in stark contrast to messages I would hear from a praise music album smuggled in by a next door neighbor whose grandma was saved. I was never allowed to join the Bible studies she hosted though.
My grade three best friend Wendy, shared the book of John to me and why it was important to be born again, and she invited me to church. When I told my mom about it, she said, “Tell Wendy we already go to our own church.” I didn’t understand why I couldn’t check it out, because it seemed as though I would like it better.
Although part of me felt confused because I assumed that people who professed to believe in what she shared to me were supposed to be a whole lot kinder than others. When they didn’t live up to it, I would get disappointed and judgmental.
Somehow things changed in college. I started taking my Roman Catholic faith a lot more seriously. I started going to confession, but always felt mediocre, because as soon as I left the confessional, I would sin. It seemed as though I’d never ever be in a state of worthiness for participating in communion. And even though Roman Catholic women are forbidden to preach at the pulpit, I learned all about scriptural exegesis and how amazing it was. In hindsight, I always wondered why the priest’s homilies in the churches I attended outside of my Jesuit university never sounded like they were products of scriptural exegesis. By the time I graduated though, I wanted to defend my Roman Catholic faith better and took lessons. It was as if I would be protecting a misunderstood friend or family member.
When a bible-believing Christian wanted to share the Gospel to me or invite me to a bible study or concert, I started using the script my mom gave me — “Ooh thanks, I already go to my church. “
Things took an interesting turn when I took up training for a Montessori School run by Bible-believing Christians. Maria Montessori was a Roman Catholic and used Cosmic Education to incorporate the Big Bang theory to jumpstart the study of the universe, but in this particular school, they trained us to teach a literal 6-day creation. I enjoyed the training, but before I left the Philippines, I promised myself I wouldn’t attend an evangelistic activity arranged by them or people they knew.
When one entire school year passed and they didn’t invite me to bible study, I heaved a sigh of relief. One invitation they did give was for me to head one of their schools. It was exciting for me, but part of it made me a little proud.
The school owners’ daughter was my head teacher in my first year and she was someone I looked up to as someone encouraging and got along with everybody. But somehow, Frannie the “chameleon” turned into someone, one of her staff didn’t get along well with her second year. I didn't know it then, but It was the pride that made me critical of my staff when they did something in a way different from how we agreed on. So I called up Sharron, that mentor my previous year, one day and asked for a favor: could she possibly sit in one of our staff meetings and observe if there was anything I could do to improve my relationship with that staff member. Thankfully, she was game. When everyone had left and it was just the two of us, I was eager to hear words of advice/correction. Instead, what I got from her was the dreaded invitation I thought I would no longer be given. “Frannie, there’s a Christian concert I’d like to invite you to. Would you come with us?”
I thought about my script but I just couldn’t use it. I mean, Sharron no longer had it in her job description to assist me. On paper, we were actually on equal footing. But for her to drive all the way to my school site, even though she was the sole breadwinner, and still needed to make dinner for her family, meant so much to me. It seemed too ungrateful if I didn’t respond positively to her invitation. It was the Filipino sense of hiya kicking in.
So even though it was something I planned from the get-go, I didn’t whip out the invitation rejection script. I said I would go with her to the concert. I only meant to go show my appreciation for what she did for me. At least that was my plan.
But the concert did something to me. The music felt joyful. It brought me back to those days when I would listen to the smuggled Psalty Kids Praise Casette my next door neighbor Lola Mameng sent to me via her granddaughter, my second cousin Krik. I remembered the book written by a pastor that Sharron gifted me for Christmas. And the speaker at the concert extended an invitation to people who needed to “reset”. I found myself standing up. When the speaker prayed for us, he gave us three reminders: First, that we were not to be mere attendees at a bible-believing church. He told us to seek membership. Second, we were to sign up for small group and attend regularly and take the studies seriously. Third, we were to ask the Lord what our gifts were and find a way to minister to others by volunteering at church.
I took all those reminders to heart. I asked for Sharron’s understanding because I knew she wanted me to become a member at her church. But I was walking distance from my bible-believing former housemate’s church, and thought it would be just as good to attend there. I also remember a group of people coming to her aid, acting like they had known each other their whole lives even though they’d only known each other for two weeks. (I thought that was really admirable and amazing, and I also wondered if I would ever have such friendships with others during my stay in the US). They were her small group! And they became mine as well (Hello to the Scrantons and my original church!) And Becky was a wonderful mentor at Children’s Church, where I signed up to volunteer. I loved her nurturing manner and the way she pulled the kids up to her level instead of dumbing down what she was teaching to them. I wanted to be the same because I knew it would minister to the kids who were also “old souls” like I was.
A friend who saw me getting prayed over at the concert, gifted me with Ray Comfort’s book on Evangelism, and I liked to mimic his style when I shared the Gospel to my dad (and my Marites-ing mom, who was eavesdropping, wanted in! Praise God for her salvation!)
God’s gift of peace also keeps me from stressing over things I don’t have control over. He allows me to choose to be joyful in the midst of trials.
I praise God for this chance to share my testimony with you, dear reader. If this blog post blessed you in any way or if you have any questions, or need more information on salvation, please feel free to send me a message on the Gulay Girl Facebook Page or instagram. Please write "Testimony Response" and then your questions or comments. Please also state if you are male or female. I can have a male spiritual brother advise you if you are male, but I will advise the females. 🙂
