blogging and too much ‘christianity’

Call me an addict because maybe i am already. One of the things i look forward to doing at the end of the day is blogging. When the weary feet finally kick off the leather shoes and slip into rubber slippers, and the work clothes are traded for comfy shorts and cotton T-shirt, i’m ready to tap dance! I’m not sure how long this little obsession will last. Maybe a week or a year, there’s no telling.

Now that i think of it, blogging has helped put a semblance of order in my chaotic thought life. I don’t know about other minds–I haven’t tried any brain other than mine–but the one i got is hopelessly distracted. Unless i deliberately pull the reins on it, which i find i seldom do, it just wanders. But when i write, the wanderer that holds residence in my skull is forced to halt and take a certain direction. Sometimes it takes a little coaxing to make the fidgety mind focus and eventually get down to commanding the fingers to tap something meaningful.

* * *
The following is a pre-blog piece i found buried in my computer files, filed in a folder called “My Life in Print,” filename “Christian.”
“Hey, pare, I met Marvin last week. You won’t believe how much he’s changed. He’s some sort of a born again now, very religious. And very humble, too! I invited him for some drinks and chicks—like old times—but he turned me down! Imagine that!”
No, I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was in a pizza place having a catching-up dinner with friends from college. The speaker, seated at the next table, was just so animated and loud. Anyone within earshot would not have missed a word. I couldn’t help but overhear—and smile knowingly. After all, I’m “some sort of a born again” myself (but not the “very humble” kind yet).
Being a Christian and working in a Christian organization has somewhat shrunken my world to a small Christian dome. I live with Christian guys in an apartment, work with Christian people in a Christian publishing house, go out to have fun with Christian friends. I hardly ever spend time with someone who’s not a Christian! Of course, my Christian parents—miles away in Davao City—would predictably breathe a sigh of relief at all this “Christianity” surrounding me.  But I sense a growing discomfort at all this insulation.
What is wrong with this picture?



  1. comfort zone, that’s what. it’s a sanctuary, but then, we all know that we are purposed to bloom out of it.

    i guess i do know what you mean 😉


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