i create. i am a creation.

Taking It All Apart (A fiction)

Posted on: August 18, 2015

The only light source right now is the laptop’s LCD screen. Quite ghastly, if I may say so but it’s perfect right now. I feel like a hundred bombs have been thrown my way and I am removing a thousand pieces of shrapnel off my flesh one by one. Ghastly light source and badly broken self go hand in hand.

God told me to let go and that He will catch me. He told me that several times over the years but I was too stubborn to heed His call. I told God, “I can handle this, I am strong, I came from a family of strong women.”

Idiot.

God could have slapped me in the face then to bring me to my senses but He didn’t. He waited patiently. Oh, so patient that I am surprised by His tenacity and faithfulness. But then I shouldn’t be.

The earthly body is weak and human capacity for bearing so much pain and beating is only this much that I was already leaving a trail of my crap all over the place. My innards were hanging from my open wounds for all to see. I was making so much mess that I am so ashamed of showing my face but there He was–He took me in His arms and rocked me to sleep until I whimpered “I surrender”.

Then I finally gave in. I let go. As I fell from the 22nd floor of my hotel room in Hong Kong, my last thought was, how bloody can this be? Will I see my body chalked on the pavement? Again?

I have seen that done to me a couple of years ago when I was reunited with Him. I was so battered and broken that I wondered how my body can heal again. He just said, “Leave it. I will build you another one.” So there was I, staring at this forlorn figure sprawled on the burning pavement of Manila while His angel carried me over his shoulder. I saw the policemen cordoning off the scene with yellow tape but they were too busy to see that the bystanders had already eviscerated my cadaver.

Then I saw my old self. It was empty.

I clutched at my chest. A huge beating muscle was there. A heart of a mother that is capable of infinite love for her children. I am still alive, I exclaimed. Then the angel flew higher to get me the 1.5 version of me. The 2.0 version would have to wait, God was still perfecting it, the angel said.

Fast-forward. As I was falling from my hotel room to slam onto the concrete below, I wondered how my 1.5 version could take the impact.

Bam!

It was tougher than I thought. My head was made of fiberglass though so that’s the first thing I lost. But my heart was encased in some kind of carbon-steel alloy so at least that was safe. Or so I thought. However, a huge piece of titanium from my right arm managed to pierce through the heart through several chinks that I have managed to make in the course of my usage of version 1.5. So I pay the price. Heart is bleeding profusely and O2 sats and blood pressure are dropping fast.

Then a 16-wheeler lorry ran over v. 1.5.

Yep, it was bloody alright. Que horror! I could still stand, albeit with a lot of pieces missing here and there. But I am still rooted to the same spot so all I could do is wait for the paramedics to pronounce me dead or alive. And wait. Then darkness enveloped me once again and I now only have my laptop’s LCD screen as source of light. Ghastly, I know but what choice do I have?

Then I could hear the distant sound of flapping wings. Angels.

Then God whispered in my ear, ever so softly. “Version 2.0 is almost done.”

He has taken my world apart to build me a new one.

1 Peter 5:10 “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

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life in business journalism

crazy. exciting. boring to some but hey, you get to understand the world better when you're a business journalist. you learn to be patient with tons of documents, make sense of numbers and charts. all geeky stuff. this is my story, behind the scenes.
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