Guided by light, driven by dreams, and ready to fly.

Tag: christianity

  • Susan & Oishi Meet Anghelito, Angelusito, and Demonyito (Part 1) 😇 😈

    🕊️ Narrated by: Kap Angel

    “¡Como están todos! I’m Kap Angel, your heavenly narrator for today—so buckle up and maybe say a little prayer.”

    Now, you’re probably wondering:

    “Why is this charming uncle-angel narrating instead of the loud hooman and her judgmental Shih Tzu?”

    Valid question.

    Let’s rewind to the incident at Heaven’s kitchen.

    Scene 1: The Great Lechon War

    It all began with two angels — Anghelito and Angelusito — fighting over the last piece of lechon.

    (Yes, lechon. Don’t ask. It’s heaven. We have range.)

    The tug-of-war got so intense that the meat flew into the air, hit the ceiling, and knocked the coffee machine off balance. Again.

    These two?

    Always doing harmless but highly annoying things.

    Yesterday, Angelusito took the last muffin and ate it in slow motion in front of Anghelito.

    So naturally, Anghelito drank Angelusito’s glass of water…

    …which caused a dramatic choking fit and a surprise trip to the heavenly clinic.

    Sometimes I ask the Boss why these two are still up here.

    But then again, our Boss is love. And also… justice.

    So I did what every Kap would do:

    I tattled. 😇

    Scene 2: Judgment Daylight

    We stood before the Almighty.

    Too majestic to describe. So I just… humbly explained the mess.

    And then, God spoke.

    “One of the greatest commandments is to love your neighbor as yourself…”

    “But you two? You keep fighting over muffins and meat.”

    Angelusito gasped dramatically — Heaven’s WIFI glitched for a second.

    “As a lesson,” God continued, “you will be sent down to look after Susan and Oishi.”

    I nodded solemnly.

    They begged for a different assignment.

    Then Father God added “I love them as I love all my creation. My Son have met them. Honestly… they’re just like you two”

    Scene 3: Jesus’ Farewell Speech

    At the gate, just before takeoff, Jesus appeared.

    “Anghelito, Angelusito… you’re going to a broken world.”

    “You’ll experience injustice, discouragement, maybe even get mocked — like they did to Me.”

    “You’ll face doubt. And it’ll sting.”

    Angelusito raised his hand:

    “Lord, can You convince Father God to let us stay?”

    Jesus smiled.

    “The decision’s made. But I will be with you — always. Even in the darkest valley.”

    “Encourage them. Be good to them. And if their attitude makes you want to scream…”

    “Remember… I died for them.”

    Oof. That one always lands.

    Kap Angel’s Notes on the Duo

    • Anghelito: Pilot. Stoic. Loves Jesus but doesn’t laugh when God tells jokes.

    Later that day, he told me the Lord’s joke was hilarious and that he “almost cried.”

    • Angelusito: Overthinker. Sweet, but too caught up in details.

    One time, an angel sprained her wing, and instead of helping, he debated which type of bandage was best for 15 minutes.

    Anyway. Off they went. Assigned to Susan and Oishi. Heaven help us.

    Cut to Earth — Oishi Narrates (Grumpily)

    It was a regular Saturday. I was minding my own business when I saw Susan holding a frying pan… headed to the bathroom.

    I thought, “Oh no, not this again.”

    She looked at me, did that weird “I see you, you see me” military hand signal, and whispered,

    “Oishi, I hear noises in the toilet. Must be a rat.”

    We crept closer. She turned the knob slowly…

    And then—boom.

    There was a tiny demon with a plunger.

    Just standing there.

    “Greetings, hooman and dog,” he said.

    (Excuse me? Dog? I’m a BABY.) 🤬

    “I’m Demonyito,” he announced. “I’m here to make your lives mildly inconvenient until your patience collapses!”

    “You’ll feel annoyed… fed up… then you’ll snap!”

    “You’ll be rude to others, bark at your friends, and BOOM — you’ve forgotten kindness. That’s how I win.”

    Then he threw the plunger at the faucet, flooded the bathroom, and bolted out laughing like a possessed karaoke machine.

    Susan screamed. I barked.

    To be continued…🐾😇😈

  • I Still Bought the Shoes, Lord

    Oishi Narrating
    It was a beautiful Sunday — sunny, clear, and breezy — so Sus decided we should go to the park.
    As usual, she walked while I ran. The air was fresh, the grass smelled alive, and as I sniffed around, I noticed a faint glow in the distance. It wasn’t too bright, but it felt… peaceful. Then I saw Him again — the Man with a hole in His hand.

    The first time I saw Him was when Sus and I encountered those ghosties (don’t ask). The second time was in my dream, right before a coconut nearly hit my head. But this time, He was just there — calm, kind, glowing.

    I was about to call Sus when, of course, she saw Him first.
    “Loooord! You’re here!” she shouted dramatically, sprinting toward Him. Before I could even roll my eyes, she had already plopped herself on the swing beside Him.

    “Lord,” she said breathlessly, “I saw a beautiful pair of gold stilettos — like the kind angels wear at weddings!”

    Jesus smiled gently. “How are you, my child? You seem happy today. I’m glad you’re this joyful.” Then He chuckled. “Ah, stilettos and gold — must be nice… but no, Sus.”

    Susan Narrating
    Sunday morning, I woke up so excited. The weather looked perfect, and Oishi was nibbling at the hem of my pajamas — his usual way of saying ‘feed me, peasant.’

    But instead of feeding him, I opened my laptop. I’d been eyeing this pair of gold stilettos for a week now. The kind that makes you feel like you’re walking on a runway. I could already imagine it: one, two, walk, flip hair, slay.

    Still, there was this small voice whispering, Don’t buy it.
    So I prayed — but not exactly to ask for guidance. I prayed to convince God to support my decision. (Don’t judge me. You’ve done it too.)

    After my “prayer,” I opened the window, felt the morning breeze, and decided to go to the park. I fed Oishi — he ate like he hadn’t eaten in weeks and even burped in front of me. Disrespectful, but adorable.

    At the park, everything was calm. The wind, the trees, the sound of children playing. Then Oishi barked and ran toward the playground. I followed… and that’s when I felt it — peace. That quiet, steady kind of peace that feels like a hug.

    And there He was. Sitting on the swing.
    You just know it’s Him. Gentle yet powerful. Approachable but with authority. I ran toward Him, half crying, half giggling. “Loooord! You’re here!”

    I sat beside Him, still catching my breath. “Lord, I’ve been eyeing this pair of gold stilettos. They’re so pretty — like shoes angels wear at weddings!”

    He smiled, asked how I’d been, how Oishi was, and then said softly, “They’re beautiful, but no, Sus.”
    And just like that, my heart cracked like a dry biscuit.

    Oishi Narrating Again
    On the way home, Sus kept sobbing. She hugged me like a pillow.
    “Oishiii… Jesus said no. But I really, really like the shoes.”

    When we got home, she opened her laptop again and clicked “Buy Now.”
    I said, “Sus, Big Guy said no.”
    She ignored me.

    A few hours later, the doorbell rang. She screamed like she’d won the lottery.
    The package had arrived — she even paid for express shipping.

    When she opened the box, her eyes sparkled like a child’s first trip to Disneyland. She lifted the shoes, sniffed them, and started rubbing them like a magic lamp.
    “They’re so beautiful! I still don’t understand why Jesus said no.”

    Later that day, she went to a party with Brenda and Yohanes — wearing those golden heels. The problem? She couldn’t even walk properly.
    “I can handle it, Oishiii!” she said, wobbling toward the door like a baby deer on stilts.

    A few hours later… “Oishiii! I can’t handle it!”

    Brenda and Yohanes carried her in like wounded soldiers. Her feet were swollen and red. “I thought I could handle it,” she winced. “Now I understand why Jesus said nope. Oishiii, don’t pour too much alcohol!”

    She couldn’t go to work for three days. Kept saying she regretted not listening.

    When she finally recovered, we went back to the park that evening.
    There He was again — sitting on the swing, peaceful as always.

    Sus walked over, face full of remorse.
    “Lord,” she sighed, “I still bought the gold shoes… right after we talked. I thought I could handle it. I didn’t understand why You said no.”

    But instead of scolding her (as I totally would have), Jesus smiled and said,
    “Let’s start over. This time, listen. Keep praying. Discern, okay, Sus?”

    Sus nodded like a toddler, then hugged Him tight. He hugged her back.
    And me? I nibbled at the edge of His robe — just to join the moment.
    We all laughed.

    Still Rising, Still Barking. 🐾🔥

    ✍️ Writer’s Note

    Most of us are like Susan — we keep insisting even when God says no. We rely on our own understanding, thinking we know what’s best. But sometimes, that no is God’s protection — a gentle way of saying, “Not yet, because you are not ready,” or “That’s not for you.”

    If she had the “training,” meaning maturity, readiness, or even discernment, maybe the answer could’ve been yes later on. But in that moment, Jesus knew she’d get hurt — literally blistered feet and all.

    Let’s learn to trust Him more, even when His answer isn’t what we wanted. Because His no always leads to something better.

    “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding;
    in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”
    — Proverbs 3:5–6 (NIV)

  • The Sacred Simplicity of Sunday Mornings

    Trusting God Beyond Material Wishes

    Susan Narrating

    I love Sunday mornings.

    They’re slow, soft, and sacred  like a fresh start wrapped in sunlight. Every time I wake up, I feel happy, alive, and oddly hopeful. There’s a golden ray peeking through our window, and somehow… the world just feels kind.

    Then Oishi, my badoodle, wakes up. And I kid you not, he opens my drawer (yes, really) and pulls out my small Bible. The one my mom gave me back in my rebellion days. That’s Oishi’s way of saying, “Let’s pray.”

    So we did.

    “Thank You, Lord, for this beautiful day.”

    Just then, we heard a knock.

    It was Boyo, our neighbor. “Get ready for church!”

    So we got moving. I took a shower and regretted doing it before giving Oishi a bath. He wagged, shook, and soaked me in dog-scented droplets. He hates showers. I love watching him look slightly less composed, no glasses, no red bandana  just soggy and suspicious.

    We got dressed, grabbed a quick bite (quick, not full  because the best part of Sundays is post-church barbecue). So. Much. Fun. 😆💃🍢✨

    Oishi Narrating

    The streets were alive. The  sun is shining, people are dancing Zumba. Barkmates were out. My cat “friend” Fippo was sitting on the mailbox, judging every passerby like it’s his job. Joggers jogged, others chatted, and someone even let the sunshine kiss their face while sitting peacefully on a bench.

    Susan scooped me up. I thought it was because she was feeling holy.

    Nope.

    She leaned in and whispered, “Oishi… I’m hungry.”

    Of course.

    I had been nudging her toward the rice cooker earlier, but she refused. She said she’d eat after church.

    Inside the church, the priest began reading:

    “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you…” — Matthew 7:7

    Susan knelt down. I thought, Wow, she’s being sincere today.

    And then I heard her whisper:

    “Lord, please… iPhone 16. And PRO. Maybe plant the idea in Boyo’s head? He seems to like me.”

    🐾 Paw to my forehead.

    The priest continued:

    “Which of you, if your child asks for bread, would give them a stone?
    Or if they ask for fish, would give a snake?
    If you who are flawed know how to give good gifts…
    How much more your Father in heaven?”

    Then he preached.

    He said:

    “Yes, God invites us to ask. But that verse isn’t about a shopping list  it’s about trust.
    A relationship.
    Sometimes, we ask for an iPhone. Or a car.
    And sure, those desires aren’t bad.
    But like a loving father, God sees what’s actually good and what isn’t.”

    Susan and I side-eyed each other. She tried not to laugh. I barked once in support of the priest.

    Sermon Summary (a.k.a. What Susan Needed to Hear)

    🔸 Asking means pursuing God, not just gifts.
    🔸 The “good things” He gives? Think peace, wisdom, strength — not just gadgets.
    🔸 Not everything we want is good for us.
    So God sometimes says:

    • Yes (because it’s right – and we’re ready)
    • No (because it could harm us)
    • Not yet (because we’re not ready – maybe because He’s still pruning us, helping us grow before the gift comes)

    It’s not about being perfect in prayer — it’s about being close.

    God isn’t a vending machine. He’s a Father.

    And somehow, that’s better.

    Susan nodded during the homily.
    I could tell she got it.

    Later That Day…

    We left church. Susan walked directly to the siopao stand. Halfway through her first bite, she asked Boyo, “What time is the barbecue?” Turns out… it was lunch. She lit up like a child on Christmas.

    We ate, we laughed. I got a chicken skewer. (Don’t judge me — I’m part of the family.)

    It was a good day.

    Susan forgot about the neighbor who sang “My Way” at 11 PM the night before.

    We went home.
    Tired, full, happy.

    And before the day ended… we both whispered:

    “Thank You, Lord.”

    God’s love is fatherly, not transactional. He’s more into our growth than our wish list.

    But He’ll always listen to the wish list too  because to Him, it’s part of loving you.

    Still rising. Still barking. 🐾
    Susan & Oishi

  • Peter: The Rock Who Sank

    An Unfiltered Monologue from the Man Who Walked on Water (for a Few Seconds)

    🎤 Camera fades in. A fisherman’s hands. A worn net. And a voice — familiar, grounded, rough around the edges.

    You know, people talk about faith like it’s easy. But I’ve lived it. Or at least… I’ve tried to.

    I’m Peter. Yeah, that Peter. The one who walked on water — and almost drowned doing it. But let me start from the beginning.

    One morning, I was casting my net—tired, frustrated, nothing biting. I’d been at it all night. Then this man shows up and tells me,

    “Cast your net again.”

    (Luke 5:4)

    And I said,

    “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything.”

    But… alright. What’s one more throw?

    Next thing I know, the net is breaking from the weight of the fish. That’s when I realized: this isn’t just a man. And then He said,

    “Follow Me, and I’ll make you fishers of men.”

    (Matthew 4:19)

    So I dropped my net. And everything changed.

    We went from town to town — me, Him, the rest of the gang. I watched Him open blind eyes, heal lepers, raise the dead, and feed thousands with just five loaves and two fish.

    (Matthew 14:13–21)

    And the leftovers? More than what we started with.

    He taught crowds, but He also sat with sinners. He didn’t avoid mess — He stepped right into it.

    One time, we were out at sea. The wind was howling, the waves slapping the boat, and suddenly—

    someone points and yells, “It’s a ghost!”

    Nope. It was Him.

    Walking on water. Like it was dry land.

    He looked right at me and said,

    “Come.”

    (Matthew 14:29)

    So I did. Stepped right out of the boat. For a second, I was doing it. Walking on water. But then I saw the wind… heard the thunder…

    and I sank. Just like that.

    He caught me, of course. Pulled me back up.

    “Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

    (Matthew 14:31)

    Good question.

    Later, He looked me in the eye and said,

    “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.”

    (Matthew 16:18)

    Me. A guy who panicked in a storm and talks too much when he’s nervous.

    He wasn’t like anyone we knew. He confused the powerful — they couldn’t trap Him. They asked,

    “Should we pay taxes to Caesar?”

    And He said,

    “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”

    (Matthew 22:21)

    We all just… shut up. What could we say?

    But you wanna know what shook me apart from the miracles? It was His compassion.

    There was this woman — been bleeding for twelve years. Doctors couldn’t help her. She touched the hem of His robe — just the hem — and she was healed.

    He turned and said, “Daughter, your faith has made you well.”

    (Mark 5:25–34)

    And then there was that time He walked into the temple and flipped the tables.

    Yeah. Flipped them.

    Because they turned a house of prayer into a night market.

    (Matthew 21:12–13)

    Even His anger felt… holy.

    But the high officials? They didn’t like Him. So they plotted. They came for Him at night. I tried to fight back — chopped off a guy’s ear.

    (John 18:10)

    He healed it. Told me,

    “Put your sword away. Those who live by the sword will die by it.”

    (Matthew 26:52)

    And then… the part I don’t like talking about.

    I followed from a distance. People recognized me.

    “Weren’t you with Him?”

    “No.”

    “I saw you.”

    “No, I swear I wasn’t.”

    Three times I denied Him.

    (Luke 22:54–62)

    And then the rooster crowed. Just like He said it would.

    I broke.

    He was beaten. Crucified. And even then, He prayed:

    “Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.”

    (Luke 23:34)

    He told a dying thief,

    “Today, you’ll be with Me in paradise.”

    (Luke 23:43)

    And on the third day —

    He rose.

    (Matthew 28:1–10)

    Alive. Glorious. Gentle. Still forgiving.

    He even made me breakfast. Told me to feed His sheep.

    (John 21:15–17)

    It was His way of saying, “You’re still mine.”

    I’ve seen the sea open.

    I’ve also seen myself sink.

    But faith isn’t about perfection. It’s about focus.

    It’s not about never doubting — it’s about who you run to when you do.

    And if you ever feel like you’re drowning —

    look up.

    He’s already in the water

    Oh, and before I go —

    For those of you who don’t know His name… it starts with a J if you’re speaking English, an H if you’re from some parts of Asia or Latin America, and a Y if you’re reading Hebrew.

    But no matter the language — it’s still the name that calms storms.

    So, I hope to see you in a very, very very long time.

    But in the meantime?

    Keep the faith.

    So He won’t have to look at you the way He looked at me and say,

    “Oh you of little faith.”

    (Matthew 14:31)

    PS: “That rooster line still stings. But the grace? Unforgettable.” 🐓🔥

  • Susan & Oishi: The Signal Co. – Episode 2 Bare Minimum & Biblical Memos

    Narrator: Oishi
    (Because I’m the only one with enough patience to tell this properly.)

    Welcome to The SIGNAL Co. — a telecommunication company whose motto is:
    “We test your patience so you don’t have to.”

    From the outside, the building looks grand. If you’re a fresh graduate walking by during your job hunt, you’d probably pause and whisper, “Wow, I hope I work there someday.”
    But once you’re inside? Different story.

    Chaos.
    Customers lining up like it’s Doomsday Prepper Sunday.
    Complaints flying in about laggy internet, mysterious charges, and “businesses ruined” because someone’s WiFi has been dead for a week.
    Screaming. Everywhere.

    This is the daily warzone that tests our patience. Especially that of the frontline crew: Susan, Yohanes, and Brenda — our beloved customer service team. Though let’s be honest, only Brenda is actually doing customer service.

    Susan and Yohanes?
    Their motto is:
    “Why give your best when you can give the bare minimum?”
    Said, of course, while high-fiving in the pantry and dodging calls.

    They thrive in the chaos.
    Angry customer? Meh.
    Why waste energy on someone who doesn’t even say thank you?

    Yohanes, with his trademark deadpan:
    “Let them scream. They’ll stop when they run out of air.”
    And Susan? Mid-siopao bite, nodding in agreement:
    “That’s right, BFF.”

    But this particular morning, something was different.

    Brenda — yes, Brenda, the moral compass of this shipwreck — suddenly went quiet. And then, mid-kitchen laughter, she said:

    “Why is life at work unfair?”

    Susan froze. Siopao still hanging out of her mouth.
    Yohanes raised a brow:
    “Come again, sister? Did Brenda the Perfect just ask that? Brenda, the Do Your Job Properly Brenda? Brenda the Let’s Do the Right Thing Brenda?”

    Brenda sighed.
    “I guess… I just feel tired. Unseen. Like I’m getting what I don’t deserve. You know what I mean?”

    Susan slammed her fist on the table like she was about to lead a workers’ revolt — until Horatio T., the HR guy, passed by. That shut her up real quick.

    (As your narrator, Oishi, I’d just like to add: Susan, ma’am, respectfully — you don’t get to complain about being unappreciated when you’ve been treating customers like background noise and rehearsing your nightly drama with Yohanes before even starting your shift.)

    Brenda continued.
    “I see staff being mistreated by managers, and managers being disrespected by staff. I see good people overlooked for promotions… while others climb the ladder without a clue. I see customers being unreasonable, and employees ignoring those who actually need help.”

    Then she said something that silenced everyone:
    “Not all managers are villains. And not all staff are heroes.”

    Sometimes, the real enemy isn’t the title —
    It’s the attitude behind it.”

    That hit different.
    Even Susan and Yohanes went quiet — probably because… well, they were part of the problem.

    Meanwhile, Horatio T. (who’d been eavesdropping) walked straight to Ishmael — our janitor and unexpected moral authority. If the office had a prophet, it would be him.

    “Hey,” Horatio asked, “what do I tell these people?”

    Ishmael didn’t hesitate.
    “Tell them Colossians 3:23–24.”

    Horatio blinked.
    “Is that… from the Bible?”
    (Ishmael just stared at him.)

    He finally said:
    “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters — since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”
    And then he walked away to mop up a coffee spill in the customer lounge.

    Horatio, being Horatio, took that verse and ran with it. He did what he loves most — drafted a company-wide memo. But first, he needed to figure out how to explain this verse to a group of burnt-out, underappreciated, chronically sarcastic employees. And this is what he sent:

    “To the Survivors of Chaos: A Memo from HR (and Heaven)”

    Memo Start:
    Dear Signal Co. Employee,
    Greetings to you people with questionable characters,

    Lately, we’re being attacked by the humanoids (a.k.a. customers), and instead of showing up with our A-game, we’ve delivered legendary epic-fails. Some of you raised concerns about fairness. Some of you are the concern (you know who you are). But I hear you.

    Here’s what a wise friend told me to pass on:

    Colossians 3:23–24
    “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

    And now… a few thoughts that might just help.

    📌 Colossians 3:23–24 reminds us that our true employer is the Lord. Whether we are praised or overlooked, we are called to work with all our heart — not for human approval, but as an offering to God. This changes how we show up in difficult workplaces.

    To apply this practically:

    • Shift your mindset: See your work as service to God, not just your boss.
    • Pursue excellence: Not for applause, but because it honors Christ.
    • Build resilience: Anchor your attitude in grace, not in how others treat you.
    • Seek contentment: You may not get the role you want now, but your reward is eternal.
    • Foster community: Surround yourself with people who uplift and challenge you.
    • Reflect on your impact: Even unseen effort can quietly transform an office.

    To endure toxic work culture:

    • Pray consistently (Phil. 4:6–7) to stay grounded and guarded in peace.
    • Know your purpose (Col. 3:23–24) — God sees what others ignore.
    • Lean on others (Ecc. 4:9–10) who can help carry the weight.
    • Protect your well-being (1 Cor. 6:19–20) through rest and boundaries.
    • Practice gratitude (1 Thess. 5:16–18) — it keeps bitterness at bay.
    • Grow through trials (James 1:2–4) — hardship builds perseverance.
    • Stay rooted in truth (Phil. 4:13) — strength comes from Christ, not circumstance.

    Even when the workplace doesn’t change, you can. And when you work for the Lord, no effort is wasted.

    – Horatio T.
    (Your favorite HR guy, probably.)

    Oishi’s Note (because apparently, I have thoughts too):

    So… why do I know all this?
    Because Susan tells me everything. From her siopao-to-sunset monologues to every minor injustice she suffered since 1997.
    And as much as I’d love to say I care — I don’t.

    But this one?
    This one hit different.

    And I’m pretty sure Mighty Paw and Sir Barkcelot would agree.
    (Especially after their HR hearings.)”

    Brenda spoke. Horatio blinked. Ishmael quoted scripture. And for once, I saw Susan pause.

    She actually asked herself how she can work for the Lord.
    (I almost dropped my chew toy.)

    Now, I could’ve said, “Read the Bible, woman.”
    I could’ve said, “The memo literally quotes it.”
    But I didn’t.

    Because sometimes the loudest humans need to sit in quiet questions.

    So here’s what I’ll say instead:
    The world doesn’t revolve around Susan.
    Or customers.
    Or complaints.

    It revolves around a Shepherd who walks with the underpaid, the overlooked, the silently screaming, the ones who forgot to submit their time sheets again and the ones who showed up anyway.

    You matter. Even when no one claps. Even when your inbox on fire. Even when you’re hanging by the wi-fi thread, and your soul feels like a draft email unsent.

    And yes… Susan still loves me.
    Tragically. Obsessively.
    And I love her too.

    – Oishi 🐾
    (CSO – Chief Sarcastic Officer, Certified Theologian by Experience, Dog Therapist in Residence, Signal Co.)

    📡 Totally Made-Up Company Alert: The Signal Co.: Not your internet provider — but we will disconnect your emotional stability. We don’t sell broadband. We sell breakdowns.

  • Something Good Is About to Happen (And No, I’m Not Just Saying That)

    Have you ever felt like something good is about to happen?

    I did—in the shower. There must be something magical in tap water, or maybe it was just the conditioner finally reaching my brain. Whatever it was, I felt a shift.

    For the past few years, my heart has been heavy with sadness and discouragement. My mind? Full of anxious thoughts doing laps. I hit that weird emotional state where I wasn’t happy or sad—just okay. The “emotionally buffering” zone. I even lost count of how many times I Googled “drifting through life means.”

    (And yes, I might look ten years younger than my age, but I’ve lived through enough plot twists to earn those Googles.)

    I used to cling to a quote I found online—“live life moment to moment.”
    It helped, kind of. For a while.
    But eventually, I realized: I need more than a Pinterest mantra.

    What I thought I needed was a man. A strong, strategic, steady man.
    Translation: a husband.
    A handsome one who would sweep me off my feet, take me on wild adventures, and look good in travel selfies.

    Look, don’t judge me. I’ve been single for a long time. Let a girl dream.

    But here’s the plot twist:
    I didn’t need a man. I needed healing.

    I kept looking outward—promotion, success, plane tickets—chasing things I thought would make me feel whole. But the advice always circled back to the same things:

    “Find happiness within.”
    “Help someone in need.”
    “Be grateful.”

    And I was like:
    I am someone in need.
    What do you mean “be grateful”? I’m barely hanging on!

    But then… I came across this verse again. And something in me softened:

    Philippians 4:6-7
    “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
    And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

    So I tried. I prayed. I thanked Him—even when I didn’t feel like it at first.
    And something shifted.

    No, I’m not suddenly problem-free or perfectly happy. But I feel different. I feel a quiet strength, a steadiness. A sense that even if I don’t get what I’m asking for, He hears me. And that’s enough.

    To my fellow citizens of the Republic of Anxiety:
    Try gratitude. Not just the hashtag version. The raw, shaky kind.
    Memorize that verse. Whisper it when the spiral starts. Put it in your heart.

    Because something good is about to happen.
    Even if it’s just peace.
    And honestly? That’s more than enough.

  • Be Like Joy — Bright, Bold, and a Little Delusional

    (Hint: This is not an Inside Out review, okay? 😂)

    “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
    — Matthew 6:34

    We worry about everything.
    Money. Jobs. Bills.
    What people think. Where our lives are headed.
    Whether we’ll ever get the things we’re longing for.
    (Or in my case, whether I’ll ever get a husband. Yes, I’m single — waving at all the single guys out there. 👋)

    And for parents? Add a few more layers of worry — spouses, kids, school fees, and why the electricity bill suddenly looks like it was written in Greek.

    Let me tell you a story from my early days in the UAE.
    Spoiler: it includes heat, humility, near-starvation, and one small miracle with a side of dates.

    Welcome to RAK, the Budget Adventure Package

    I loved my life in the UAE. The desert safaris, the food, the stunning buildings, and friendships with people from all over the world — it felt like a movie.
    But here’s the truth: even the best movies have a few horror scenes.

    One day, my company decided to transfer me from Dubai to Ras Al Khaimah (RAK).
    I was nervous, sure — I didn’t know anyone there.
    But also excited… because I’m stubborn like that. ✨New experience! ✨No backup plan! ✨What could go wrong!

    Well. Let’s talk about the part where I only had 20 dirhams to my name.
    Not 200. Not 2,000.
    Twenty.

    And I had to:

    • Move to a new city
    • Pay rent in advance
    • Pay a carlift (no car!)
    • Exit the country soon (visa expiring, fun yaay!)
    • Eat food like a regular human

    Mood? Full-blown panic.
    Budget? Spiritual
    Options? Cry, pray, or cry-while-praying.

    Enter: The Unexpected Provision

    My manager told me to go visit Al Hamra Mall before the move.
    It was new, bright, and weirdly empty. Retailers were chilling outside their stores like it was their front porch.

    There, I met a woman — let’s call her M.
    We started chatting and I told her I’d be moving to RAK but didn’t have a place yet.

    And then… she offered me a place to stay.
    No advance rent.
    Just, “You can live with us.”

    She even let me crash that same day and cooked for me.
    Hot. Cooked. Food.
    Reader, I almost cried on her plate.

    Ramadan & the 20 Dirham Diet

    Then came the real test.
    Ramadan started. I had no money. The carlift driver kept asking for his fare and I kept pretending I didn’t hear him. (Sorry, Mohamed. God bless your patience.)

    But he kept picking me up anyway.
    Problem #2 solved.

    Food? I pretended I was fasting.
    I’m Catholic, but I used the season to embrace spiritual minimalism (aka, I was broke).

    Local people gave out dates and water at sunset — that became dinner.
    And then, M noticed… and started feeding me lunch and dinner.

    And then — family to the rescue.
    One of my cousins from Dubai showed up out of nowhere with bags of groceries.
    She said she had a gut feeling I was starving.

    “Turns out God has a way of whispering into your cousin’s heart mid-grocery run.”

    One by one, God crossed off every worry I had — housing, transport, food — with quiet, gentle kindness.

    And Then Joy Walked In

    That season taught me that Matthew 6:34 is real.
    Don’t worry about tomorrow.
    Not because tomorrow is magical —
    But because God already lives there.

    Anxiety makes you spiral.
    It clutters your mind like tangled wires.
    It keeps you up at night rehearsing disasters that never come.
    But joy?
    Joy shows up with 20 dirhams and no plan… and still believes something good will happen.

    I still feel anxious, of course. I’m human.
    But now, I don’t let anxiety drive the car.
    I acknowledge her, let her sit in the back… and let Joy take the wheel.

    Let Me Leave You With This

    We still need to plan — don’t get me wrong.
    You can’t say “I want to be a pilot” and then not learn how to fly a plane.
    But what I’ve learned is this:

    One by one, every need I was anxious about — housing, transport, food — was covered by kindness I didn’t see coming.

    When you don’t have anything, trust God’s provision through the unexpected people He sends your way. Sometimes it’s not a miracle falling from the sky… sometimes it’s a carlift driver who keeps showing up even when you pretend you didn’t hear him.

    Do not worry about tomorrow, He said and He meant it.

    See you in the next story.
    Where the budget was tight, the visa was tighter… and somehow, I ended up in Iran.
    Not by choice, but definitely with emotion.

    Coming soon: “The Reluctant Border Queen.”

  • “It’s Just Work, Nothing Personal… Right?”

    Colossians 3:23–24:
    “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

    Every Sunday night, I get this feeling I can’t quite explain—you know, the universal “ugh, work again tomorrow” vibe. Don’t get me wrong, I like my job. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t still be here six years later (and counting, by the way—loyalty badge unlocked).

    After some reflection, I realized it’s not the actual work that makes me want to dramatically throw my laptop out the window and board the next flight (Okay, slight exaggeration. I work from home, so maybe I’d just slam the fridge door dramatically instead.)

    The truth is, it’s the people—sometimes. You can be deep in your task, finally in the zone, and then boom—“Hi, can I just ask something really quick?” (Spoiler: it’s never quick.) And let’s not even talk about bosses. For the record, if any of my current teammates or manager stumble upon this post—hi! This is totally about my past jobs. Wink.

    I’ve worked most of my life, held different roles, and reported to various bosses. And one thing is universal: if you and your boss are out of sync, it feels like trying to do a trust fall with someone who’s scrolling TikTok. Work becomes survival.

    That’s when I found the verse above. But truthfully? At first, I resisted. “Work with all my heart? Girl, my heart is telling me to grab my slippers and scram.”

    But here’s where it gets real.
    When I feel drained or wronged, I go back to that verse. Because it’s hard to give your best when you feel unappreciated or mistreated. Honestly, sometimes it’s hard to even give the bare minimum. But then I remember: I’m not just doing this for my company or my boss—I’m working for the Lord.

    Let that sink in.
    “I am working for the Lord.”
    When I repeat that, something shifts. He is worthy of my time, my excellence—even when others aren’t. It doesn’t magically erase the stress, but it lightens the weight I carry.

    I’m not saying we shouldn’t aim to impress our managers or be team players. They have authority, and we honor that. But at the end of the day—as we say here in my country, quoting an action star—“It’s just work. Nothing personal.”

    Insert moment of truth here:

    And just to be clear—it’s not like I didn’t want anyone to ask questions. Actually, I feel honored when someone asks me how to do things because it means they trust my knowledge. But it’s the ones who ask without even trying to look for the answer first—or when the answer is literally staring at them from the screen—that can be a little frustrating. Like… open your eyes, dude! The answer is right there. Highlighted. In bold. With sparkles.

    Of course, not all bosses are villains. Maybe some just had a few rough chapters that turned them cold and guarded. You know, like Scar—Mufasa’s brother in The Lion King. Maybe he started out okay, but somewhere along the line, he let bitterness take over. And then you have bosses like Mufasa—wise, composed, and protective. Alright, let’s stop here before I break down the entire Lion King trilogy. Hakuna Matata, moving on!

    A Short Prayer

    Dear God,
    Thank You for the life You’ve given us. You know how many times I’ve cried because of mistreatment at work. You’ve seen my bitterness when words cut deep, and yet You’ve always carried me through.

    I pray not just for myself, but for everyone who feels unseen, hurt, or overwhelmed in their workplace. Help us to find comfort in Your Word, and to remember that we are ultimately working for You. Let that truth fuel us to keep showing up—with heart, with strength, and with grace.

    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

    ✨ “When work feels heavy, remember who you’re really working for.” 🙏

    Written by Ember

    Full-time dreamer, part-time overthinker