✈️ Delulu Island: Where God Rerouted My Vacation

Narrated by Oishi

For the past few weeks, Susan’s been operating on full-blown Dramatic Mode. I—Oishi, her long-suffering emotional support furball—have reached my limit.

It’s too hot. Then it’s too cold. It’s too noisy. Then too quiet.

The food? Either too salty, too sweet, or “my siopao tastes different.”

Mind you, she’s been buying siopao from the same store for the past five years.

Every day it’s:

“Badoodle, I need a vacation.

A new place. Or a new planet.”

She opens her laptop like she’s searching for a new galaxy. Then suddenly—sparkles.

Cheap flight.

Eyes wide.

Voice dramatic.

“Badoodle, prepare your things. We’re going to an island.”

And then she goes full delulu:

“I’m imagining myself in a swimsuit… hair down, sunglasses on…

Then one Adonis approaches and says,

‘Hey, you look stunning. Can I have your number?’”

She flips her hair like she’s on a shampoo commercial. Meanwhile, I’m internally bleeding.

But okay—an island sounds nice.

Sit by the shore.

Coconut juice.

Chicken on a stick.

Heaven.

Next thing I know, she scoops me up, throws me into a tote bag, and boom—we’re at the airport.

Susan narrating

I was so excited I packed light. Scooped Badoodle. Zipped out the door.

But when we got on the plane… something felt off.

No flight attendants.

All the other passengers were in uniform.

There were literal cargo crates.

Then I gasped.

“Badoodle…

We got on the wrong plane.”

I ran to the pilot—who, by the way, looked very serious—and said,

“Miss Pilot, this is a mistake. I need to get off.”

She looked me dead in the eye:

“We’re airborne.

Sit down.”

“Where is this plane going??”

“10 AM tomorrow. You’ll see.”

It was 7 AM.

Do the math.

I croaked,

“Where… are we going?”

She looked back once and said:

“Tijibuduri Delulu Island.”

Excitement: gone.

What kind of island has “Delulu” in the name?!

We passed through three storms.

There was turbulence that felt like someone was shaking a soda can.

I’ve had smoother rides on roller coasters.

Finally, the plane landed. The doors opened.

And there were people waiting—hundreds of them.

The military team started unloading boxes of food. One sergeant looked at me:

“You. Help.”

So… I helped.

We were taken to a nearby camp.

I found out that the people here had lost everything—to war and typhoons.

They weren’t vacationers.

They were waiting… for relief.

So I cooked. I served.

I lifted boxes. I cleaned up.

I did what I could.

And that night, I was exhausted. But not in a bad way.

The kind of tired that comes after doing something that matters.

Badoodle and I sat by the shore. Quiet.

A soldier walked by and asked,

“Where were you supposed to be going?”

I smiled. Weakly.

“Somewhere with sunsets, piña coladas, barbecue, and dancing.

A vacation to stop complaining about my life…”

But I sighed.

“Lately, all I see are the things that are missing.

So I booked this trip to escape.

And instead

I found perspective.”

He nodded. And then he said:

“I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”

Philippians 4:11–13

Goosebumps.

He walked away.

I scooped Oishi, knelt by the sand, and prayed.

“God… I’m sorry.

For letting petty things blur the bigger picture.

For complaining about things others are still praying for.”

Life is like a pingpong ball.

You get thrown in all directions.

Sometimes up.

Sometimes down.

You can be bitter about it—

Or laugh about it.

Either way…

Life will happen.

And from now on

I choose to live with love, laughter, and gratitude.

With my furball by my side.

Still Rising. Still Barking. 🐾