The Legend of Billy the Eagle

I don’t usually say it out loud (too often if at all) but I like hanging out with our Pastor. So because of his injury a few days ago, we decided to come visit him after SOL Finals just to update him of our activities in the last two days we haven’t seen each other. Hahaha, yes, clingy much.  Over late dinner and ice cream in his house, we were able to cover topics from how the finals went, who would probably pass (not Jessa, hahaha) and whatever else we did since we were last together.

Our story-telling eventually led to pet-tales and the legend of Billy the Eagle.

Some say it was a true story. It’s hard to say, really. But for the sake of anyone reading this, this is the tale of Billy the Eagle…

There was once a magician who had an assortment of birds and reptiles in his home– magic lair, if you will. He became amused with this high school boy from Caloocan who was equally fascinated by the wonders of magic and animals. This magician owned a Philippine eagle. There was a time when eagles roamed the sky (at least some owner’s patch of the sky) free. Because the magician grew fond of the boy, he gave him the eagle. The boy hurriedly cleared out his pigeons in their cage and made it the new home of Billy the eagle. Billy and the boy bonded, and Billy was well fed with critters and chickens and monkeys and fish.

One day, because the boy outgrew his fascination with the eagle, Billy felt like it was time to fly. And Billy the eagle is now the logo in one dome along Katipunan Avenue.

Hahaha, okay, that wasn’t how the story went but some parts of it are really hard to absorb! I think Pastor Dave is rummaging in his photos of yore to locate proof of this amazing tale. Not that we doubt him but there’s always something about his stories of boyhood that are hard to believe.

Like he’s a batang kalye. Or that he collected texts and comics. Or that he was the gagamba-gangster-head in Cebu. Or that he was a pigeon-master!

Because when you look at Pastor Dave now, it’s just hard to place. But I do love when he talks about things like that. It makes him relate-able and human. Our conversation went to street games we played as kids. He talked about the 70s while most of us recalled the 90s. It’s just really great that we were all part of that generation where games actually required social interaction and physical sweat and tears (and blood, sometimes!).

Even when Pastor Dave was confined in a plastic cast and had to hobble around in crutches, we had a grand time reliving childhoods decades apart.  And for a short moment, it felt really awesome to have played luksong tinik, luksong baka, syato, taguan, agawan base, habulan, luksong lubid, chinese garter… collected gumamela, santan, salagubang, tutubi… ate through candies and chichirya… with these grown ups we looked up to.

I had to ask around his family if they knew Billy the Eagle. They confirmed the verity of the tale. It’s pretty awesome, too because then we’d know  that we’d probably grow up in stature anyway because the leader we’re following turned out to be a great Christian leader.

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‘There’s an eagle… when you look inside your heart…’


Warm Bodies

Let’s see how far I can go without drooling over the cuteness that is Nicholas Hoult, shall we?

It was a cold, rainy Sunday night when my new neighbors invited me to their place to hang out. Well, to be truthful, I invited myself over. It’s such a thrill to finally have people you know live in your block.

We decided to watch a movie and I volunteered to pick it out so I can screen from the list. Cartoons and action movies are ruled out. And because I’m not a fan of scary movies, thrillers are out, too. I wanted to see a chick-flick (sometimes we all just need to chill out and not think) and the closest title to my recollection of rom-coms was, you got it, Warm Bodies.

Warm Bodies is only kind of okay save for Nicholas Hoult and the moral of the story. The gist is there’s a zombie guy who liked this human girl. The zombie guy, R, ate off the brains of human girl, Julie’s boyfriend. R gets glimpses of human memories from eating the brain and somehow pangs of emotion on the side. He rescues Julie from the zombie mob and keeps her hidden in an abandoned plane. So they hang out and bond and develop crazy feels. Which is a lot to say for R who is apparently undead and cannot feel nor articulate anything (sounds like any average dude, hahaha).

Julie is in turn nice to R, which gives R warmth. The zombie mob eventually develop a heartbeat from the example of Julie and R. They get patches of memories and as a clincher to their state of deadness, they get to have dreams. (Everybody go, awww)

Sometimes, I’d like to get reminded that this world we live in is a cemetery. There are a lot of walking dead people. Some of them have great jobs, nice families, good things going on for them but until God breathes life into them, they’re just like that. Alive but dead.

Sin does that to a person. The wages of sin is death. Death means separation from God and while that doesn’t sound too dire, in reality it is. I think the worst part of it is that you are actually dead and can’t do anything about it. No matter how well you try to live your life, it will all become meaningless and disastrous in the end.

That is why it’s a high calling for people who have life breathed into them, once-dead people who now have Jesus Christ in their lives, live out a living existence. So that people could see that there’s a difference with just living and life in Christ.

How many out there would love to dream or feel or live with purpose. People changed by the love of God are the warm bodies this world needs. It’s our duty as salt and light of the world to prove that there’s more to life than this, whatever it is they’ve settled for.

I guess my new neighbors and I have a huge assignment down the projects. 😉

Get Over Yourself

I caught a virus over the weekend. I do not know what it’s called nor do I have plans of finding out what it is but it just drains me of too much energy. Thankfully, I still have some to spare because my sense of responsibility just keeps niggling at me. I hate that sometimes. I wish I could just call in sick and not have to worry about work I’ve left unfinished.

And there’s a TON.


I still have time to blog. How you ask? Maybe because it’s the only thing I can handle right now that does not involve too much thought. My brain literally (I mean literally like it pulsates. Imagine Krang of TMNT; my brain feels like that) hurts whenever I have to focus on one item on my to-do list. I feel powerless. This is the only thing I can get my hands on that would actually feel like an accomplishment.


God’s grace is sufficient for me. His strength is made perfect in my weakness. I like hanging on to grace. It’s the only thing that keeps me afloat. Praise God for His is always, always enough for me.