Love (not) at First Sight

“What was it that drew you to your significant other? Their blue eyes? Their ginger countenance? Their smile? Their voice?” And the Daily Post Challenge (He’s (She’s) So Fine) continues to prod me on.

If you’ve been a reader and follower of my blog, you would know by now how I met my husband. In a gist, for those who just got here – we were both church volunteers, he, a Logistics guy; me, a Sunday School teacher. You may read our love story here in this link.

But what was it that really drew me to him. Hmm, let me think for a moment. Because as you all know, it was not love at first sight. He grew into me.


Maybe it was because of his quiet countenance of serving the Lord with all humility. No church task seemed to be too small for him to do. Maybe it was his total abandonment of how others might perceive him when he picked up that guitar and tried his best to accompany the worship leader. He would just laugh it all off even when the guitar stint failed. Maybe it was his positive energy that rubbed on my then pessimistic self.  Maybe it was his charm when he seems to be friends with everyone and when he always sees the good in people.

I was drawn to him not by his looks. Don’t get me wrong. My husband is the most handsome to me. But his heart is more beautiful. I am so glad it was not love at first sight. Because my eyes saw beyond the superficiality and discovered what is most important – his great love for the Lord.


Photo credit: Kimberly Chan Hung and Gary Albano





Hurdling Biology 11

They say when you’re good in English and the Language Arts, it’s bound to happen that you’re struggling with the Math and Sciences. That seems to be true to me.

When I was in college, I took up Psychology as my course. One of our course requirements is to enroll in a Biology 11 class. It’s broken down into a lecture and a laboratory class. I dreaded this subject because it has a lot of memory work and details. What freaks me out more is the laboratory portion, wherein I had to identify molecular parts of living things under the microscope and to dissect a frog.

Science was never my strength. No matter how much I study and try to understand the scientific concepts, it was such a struggle for me. I had to take Bio 11 three times. I dropped the subject twice. And for the third and last time, I had to take it again. There was no turning back or else I wouldn’t graduate. I think I got a 2.75 or 3.0 for my grade in that subject. But honestly, I was already so happy even if I barely passed it.

Hurdling Bio 11 is an achievement for me. It taught me persistence. I actually felt desperate at that time. I remember crying about it after pleading with my professor to reconsider giving me even just a passing grade. It was persistence and prayers that saw me through the challenge. I had no innate intellect in Science. But what the heck, I’m good in English and the other subjects! 😀


Post in response to Daily Prompt: Land of Confusion

Spare Change Keeps Me Sane

What act drives me nuts making me go wild with my emotions? One thing stands out. It’s when cashiers don’t give me exact change for my purchases. It’s when they round off to the nearest centavo the change they’re supposed to give me. Yeah, I’m OC that way. I don’t know how I became like that. Maybe I’m just an exact person. A thorough individual expecting thoroughness from people as well.

coins 2So what do I do to prevent this from happening? I vowed to always bring my coin purse filled with 25 centavos, 10 centavos down to 5 centavos. Spare change keeps me sane. I try to actually pay my items as exact as I could so I would avoid feeling irritated with those type of cashiers. (No offense, if there are cashiers out there reading this blog. 🙂  )

It helped too that my husband taught me to be more patient with people and their idiosyncracies. He told me not to be too finicky with the little details that stress me out. After I embraced this lesson, my interactions with cashiers have been more friendly now. I no longer get irritated because I found a solution to my problem – spare change! I love those centavos. So if you don’t like your centavos anymore, give them to me. They’re important to my sanity. 🙂


Post in response to Daily Prompt: She Drives Me Crazy

What’s In A Name?

leahWhat’s in a name? I realized that my name is one thing that I have not chosen in my life. It’s my parents’ prerogative and I couldn’t do anything about it anymore. (Except of course, if I’d go through the legal means of changing my name, which is most unlikely to happen.)

My name is a derivative of my dad’s and mom’s name combined, hence, Leah Lyn. 

There has been an evolution of how people call my name. I would know the time period when they have known me by how they pronounce my name.

If you are in my circle of friends when I was but a child, you’d probably have called me as ‘Li-yah’. If you are my older cousins from my mother’s side, you’d have called me ‘Li-yah girl’. Which by the way stuck with me till I was a grown adolescent. If you’ve been a friend from elementary and high school, you have called me ‘Leah’, pronounced as ‘Le-ya’.  

I stopped correcting people how my name should be pronounced, because they were just too many not getting it correctly, so I let them be. But when I entered college, I thought this is the perfect time to rectify the pronunciation of my name. So I introduced myself as ‘Li-yah’ again. Some got it. Some didn’t. So I finally gave up. I allowed them to call me how they like to call me. Simple. 

Then my closest friends from college gave me a nickname I’ve grown fond of too. They called me ‘Lei’. My churchmates picked up that name too. But it is only my sister who calls me the shortest name of all, ‘Le’. 

Whatever my name is and however it is pronounced, I still like my names. All of them! Don’t just call me by my full name – Leah Lyn – because that’s the name I am called when my mom’s angry with me. Lol!  🙂

Post in response to Weekly Writing Challenge: Power of Names 

Photo credit:

Age is a Stage

The Daily Post of WordPress states, “No matter how you shake it, it happens to all of us: we grow older. As our age changes, so does our perspective. This week, we’re asking you to take a look at those little numbers that often mean so much.”

So, here’s my take on how I perceive those little numbers – our age! In poetry form. 🙂

I thank my Psychology and Family Life and Child Development professors for giving me insights on the stages of human development.


Age is But a Stage

When I was but an infant,

I relied entirely on my parents

When I became a toddler,

I tested the limits of the adults in my life.

When I became a school-age child,

I looked up to my teachers.

When I became a teenager,

I listened more to my peers rather than my parents.

When I first fell in love and met my romantic self,

All my world revolved around my love.

When I entered the workforce,

I learned to play the career game with my boss and co-workers.

When I decided to settle down and get married,

I vowed to build and secure a family.

When I became an adult with elderly parents,

I began to assume their then parental responsibilities.

When I became an elderly myself,

I relied again entirely on my adult child to care for me.

Life is but a cycle. Age is but a stage.

I will come back to where I come from.


This post is in response to the Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years


Photo credit:


I Love to Teach!

For the longest time since I graduated from college, I was forcing my way through a career in human resource development. Until I soul-searched and discovered that what fulfills me the most was when I teach and touch the future. My heart is so alive when I’m around with children. Though teaching has its ups and downs, I would never trade the joy of seeing children learn as they grow. They may never remember me as their preschool teacher when they grow up to be young men and women, but knowing that I contributed in shaping who they are, is reward in itself already.

Thank you to the last batch of children I taught in Ingenium School. You made my stay there all worthwhile! Money is nothing when I know that my real treasure lies in building a person.

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An Unusual Valentine’s Day

HPIM0413Almost a year ago, I did not spend my Valentine’s Day the usual way. My husband is not here in the Philippines, hence, no celebration of sorts. I was just expecting a phone call from him and I would be content with that already. Little did I know that something else was about to happen.

February 13, 2013. My dad woke me up and just told me to get up immediately and to accompany him to the hospital. My mom had a car accident, I would later know. I did not ask how bad it was. All I knew in my heart was that everything would be okay. I know that God is on our side and He is the greatest Healer.

February 14, 2013. When everyone else was frantic about how they will celebrate Valentine’s Day with their special someone, I was on the phone telling my husband what happened to my mom. She needed to be operated on to fix the broken bone on her left arm. Her left leg was to be fixed too by the surgeon.

February 15, 2013. While my friends were greeting me a Happy Valentine’s Day, there I was telling them to pray for my mom’s successful operation this day. By God’s grace, everything went well. It was my mom’s recovery that became our great ordeal. We hired a nurse to care for her and a therapist to help strengthen her legs and arms again. When she was well enough, I took over as the role of her nurse and caregiver.

Fast forward to February 11, 2014. Till this day, she still undergoes  once a week therapy. Thankfully, she has regained her strength all over again and is now more functional in her day-to-day life. We celebrated her miracle of second life this Valentine’s season. It was indeed a year filled with God’s love, healing grace and provision.

Valentine’s should not only be about love for your husband or special someone. Valentine’s is also about love for your mom and most especially about the all-encompassing love of God for all of us.

Happy Hearts everyone! ❤