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is a passionista and student often seen making her way to her next class through the buildings of the University of the Philippines Los Baños. She is also an obscure reference user, anglophile, pretty-things hoarder, closet hipster, time traveler, princess in disguise and more than a conqueror.

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This blog is an avenue for me to write down my thoughts about life, relationships, art, all things pretty, and my journey with God. I could be a bit random too, depending on my mood.. I hope you don't check out. ;)

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Real Beauty

"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewellery or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." 1 Peter 3:3-4 ♥

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Just Walk Across the Room: Simple Steps Pointing People to FaithThe Screwtape LettersThe Great DivorceA Brief History of TimeThe Last BattleThe Silver Chair

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8 August 12

On restoration

res·to·ra·tion/ˌrestəˈrāSHən/

Noun:

  • The return of something to a former owner, place, or condition.
  • The process of repairing or renovating a building, work of art, etc., so as to restore it to its original condition.

I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with my guitar and piano-playing. I started playing guitar when I was really young (my dad and brother encouraged me because they’re both quite gifted musicians — and my uncle and aunt from my mom’s side are really good too), and piano when I was in high school. 

He even wrote “Anabet” on the head..

My dad gave me this small guitar when I was a kid. He named it Anabet. He was an OFW then, and he promised me that when he returned home for good, he would teach me. So for the mean time, he made me attend a one-on-one class with my music teacher from school. Well.. let’s just say my dad never got around to teaching me, and when he got back, he and my mom separated. Then somewhere along the way, I found myself abandoning music for good. You know what they say. When ADD kicks in.. 

I never thought I would play again. But then the past few months, the inevitable happened. 

My cousin Sandra started teaching herself guitar in her junior year in high school, and my other cousin Bryan taught himself last summer. We weren’t really surprised they discovered music because their late dad was really good also (I always refer to him as my favourite hippie who ever lived) and their mom is also a very good singer. To make the long story short, my two teenage cousins (who live with us) started playing (and playing really well, mind you), and our house was suddenly filled with live music again. 

For the longest time (more than 10 years now!), my small guitar was left untouched. It was left abandoned to the point that I just let my 1-year-old nephew carry it anywhere, throw it around, and yes, even smash it to the ground. The guitar could break to pieces for all I cared. Some of the strings were removed, the body was super dirty. It was just unusable.

But then today Bryan decided to fix it. I don’t know why — I guess he was just bored, or wanted another guitar in the house, or got inspired by the non-stop rain, or maybe it was just the classic male drive to fix broken things in the house.. but he did. 

And fix it he did. Sandra helped him with the tuning.

Now, the mini-guitar is as good as new! We had extra strings from Sandra’s old guitar (which also needs fixing — I’m sure Bryan will take care of it as well) plus some tools, and a few cleaning here and there and voilà! The guitar looks new, and more importantly, it sounds amazing! We haven’t stopped playing praise and worship songs the entire afternoon.

The new and improved Anabet!

My sister trying it out. Now my nephews have a kiddie guitar they can use when they’re big enough!

I guess being that I am a highly visual person, I have this thing where I associate inanimate objects to certain people, events or abstracts. My small guitar — which was always to me a symbol of abandonment (of endeavors and commitment) every time I looked at it as it was a gift from my dad, who promised me he would teach me guitar but left anyway, suddenly became a symbol of restoration, of beauty, of skill, of a bright future.. because now, it will always remind me of my cousin Bryan, who is an amazing man of God. Now, I can’t wait to play again! I’m re-learning and I’m enjoying it a lot.

You see, in little ways like this (plus many other ways — we can’t box how He works), God sends people to help heal and restore the few broken fragments of our lives. In the same way that God used my cousins to restore not just my childhood guitar but my love for playing as well, He can also send people to help restore you. He can send people who will speak healing and encouragement into your life.. if you let them. 

Don’t get me wrong: restoration is not a one-time big-time thing. It’s a process, and it may take years, just as I’m still in the process of healing now. One thing is certain though — no matter how long it takes, for as long as it’s Jesus who does it, the healing is certain. Time doesn’t heal all wounds; Jesus does.

And you know what? When God restores, it’s like you were never broken. ♥ 

"… to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.” Isaiah 61:3

"Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed;
save me and I will be saved,
for you are the one I praise.”
Jeremiah 17:14

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