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ⓒphoto from dreamstime |
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ⓒphoto from dreamstime |
So, before anything else, remember this: the most important foundation of marriage is God. When He is at the center of your relationship, love becomes stronger, forgiveness comes easier, and every challenge becomes a little lighter.
These 20 tips are helpful, but they work best when your marriage is anchored in faith and guided by Him.
So, follow these tips, embrace the chaos, and remember: if you can survive assembling IKEA furniture together without filing for divorce, you’re probably doing just fine.
For nine long years, I served as a nurse in Saudi Arabia—an Overseas Filipino Worker who built a life of discipline, hard work, and quiet sacrifice. But one day, I felt a gentle nudge in my spirit. It was time to come home. With peace in my heart and big dreams for my future, I returned to the Philippines permanently—or so I thought.
At first, everything fell beautifully into place. My husband and I rented our own space—our little sanctuary we long dreamed of. We lived simply but freely, finally able to buy groceries without checking price tags twice. It felt like a dream unfolding. But reality has a way of shaking even the most hopeful hearts.
Slowly, cracks began to show.
Fear crept in, followed by financial strain, emotional distance, and unspoken thoughts that grew louder in silence. My husband and I began drifting apart—not through fights, but through the kind of quiet disconnect that hurts even more. We stopped communicating the way we used to. We were two people living under one roof, slowly becoming strangers.
One day, we were scheduled to visit my parents—my mom’s birthday. It was a long drive. My husband was visibly tired, emotionally distant, and not himself. Still, I insisted we go. He agreed, but halfway through the ride, he asked for a moment to rest. He was exhausted. Ten minutes passed. He started the car again, wordless and heavy.
Then it happened.
A police checkpoint flagged us down. Our first traffic violation: no seatbelt. I was holding our son in front without a seatbelt—something my husband constantly reminded me about in the past. But that day, he said nothing. And I, lost in my own bubble of concern, ignored it.
They took his license.
The disappointment around me was crushing. The guilt was unbearable. Everyone scolded me. And though my husband didn’t say a word, his silence and expression told me everything: It’s your fault. Those words echoed in my head until they broke me.
The only comfort I found that day was in my father’s silent hug. In his arms, I collapsed. And in that moment, I realized the weight I was carrying—guilt, regret, fear, and shame.
Later that night, my husband held me and opened up. Finally, he shared the burden he’d been hiding. I realized then that he had been hurting too, just in a different way. And that poor communication—the kind that makes you assume the worst—can destroy even the strongest of bonds.
Fast forward to June 2024: I took my NCLEX exam, and by God’s grace, I passed. I was accepted into the same hospital where my husband worked. We felt aligned again, our dreams colliding into one shared purpose.
But happiness was layered. Beneath the surface, our finances were crumbling. Inflation spiraled. Bills piled up. And by New Year’s Day, we felt the weight of it all. No joy. No celebration. Just silence. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried like I had never cried before. I felt abandoned—even by God. I stopped praying. I stopped going to church. I was angry with Him. Why wasn’t He listening?
That night, I had a dream.
I was sitting alone on sand, wrapped in peace. No worries. No fear. Then, someone called my name. A man—about my age—held my hand, and we walked together in silence. It felt so real. I woke up sobbing. And for the first time in a long time, I prayed again. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand.”
Just when I thought we were finding our footing, life threw another blow. My husband was diagnosed with bilateral antrochoanal polyps—a mass in his nose that made it hard for him to breathe. The required procedure—an embolization—would cost over half a million pesos.
It was crushing. We sold our car. We rearranged everything. Still, it wasn’t enough.
But God showed up again—just in time. We were led to a compassionate, skilled doctor who helped us navigate a way through. My husband underwent a different treatment, one that didn’t require the massive expense. And finally, he could breathe again—literally and figuratively.
Through every trial, I found myself returning to one truth: the more I drew closer to God, the more the enemy tried to shake my foundation. But I held on.
Because I’ve learned that trials aren’t punishments—they’re preparation.
God breaks us only to rebuild us stronger.
Eventually, I returned abroad. It wasn’t the plan I envisioned years ago, but it was God’s plan all along. And today, I walk with a heart full of faith, clarity, and peace—not because my life is free from problems, but because I know who walks with me through the fire.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”— Jeremiah 29:11
To those who are weary, doubting, and questioning God in the midst of hardship—hold on. I am a living testament that He hears you. Even in your silence, even in your anger, even in your doubt.
God never left. He never will.
August 7, 2025. A date that won't mean anything to most people - but for me, it marks the day I chose peace over noise, boundaries over blind loyalty, and grace over retaliation.
This isn't a story of drama or revenge. It's a story of growth. A quiet, internal decision that changed how I view friendship, respect, and forgiveness.
A Favor That Turned into a Turning Point
It started with something small. A favor. Simple to understand, simple to do, and just as simple to mend —if it ever needed mending at all. But what I didn't expect was how something so trivial could spiral into something so loud and heavy, just because of tone.
She wasn't a family member or a lifelong friend — not even someone with deep roots in my life. We hadn't known each other long, just a couple of months, but we clicked quickly — or so I thought.
I was working quietly at my computer when she barged in, her voice sharp, accusing, and unusually loud — demanding things I had already taken care of the previous week. Her tone cut through the walls, echoing outside our shared space. I remember sitting there, stunned not by the request, but by the disproportionate outburst that came with it. It was a minor task. A simple favor that didn't warrant such a reaction.
Raised with Respect, Even When It's Hard
My parents taught me to respect people — even when they don't deserve it. They taught me to stay calm, speak with kindness, and carry myself with composure, no matter the emotion stirring inside me.
That day, every fiber of me wanted to respond, to defend myself. But I didn't. Not because I was weak, but because I knew strength doesn't always come with volume.
As days passed, I kept reflecting on her reaction — not out of resentment, but from a place of disbelief. Her behavior wasn't just out of character. It was a red flag that couldn't be ignored. And the more I looked back, the more I realized those red flags were always there. Subtle signs of someone who acted differently behind closed doors than she did in front of others.
I treated her like a sister. I was a genuine friend. But after that day, things shifted. And I knew something had to change.
Letting Go isn't Bitterness — It's Wisdom
I chose to stop talking to her. Not because I hated her. Not because I was waiting for an apology. But because I knew my peace was worth protecting.
Does silence mean I haven't forgiven her? It's a question I wrestled with. But I came to realize that forgiveness doesn't always require conversation. I had already released the anger, already chosen grace. But reconciliation? That requires mutual effort, respect, and trust — none of which were present anymore.
As the Bible says in James 1:19-20:
"Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires."
I could have matched her anger with my own. But I believe God was holding me steady, reminding me that sometimes, strength means walking away quietly instead of staying in chaos.
A Final Thought: Maybe This Was the Lesson
I pray often that God makes me a better person. Maybe this was His way of answering that prayer — not by removing conflict, but by allowing it to reveal something deeper in me. We all carry a side of ourselves we hope others never see. But how we treat others — especially when emotions run high — says everything about who we are. And how we respond? That's who we choose to become.
So no, I don't hate her. I don't wish her ill. I just chose peace — and I'm finally okay with that.
I hope it's not yet too late for me to come back to writing. It's been 6 months since my last notes about the entities.
I have been struggling to tell you honestly for the last couple of months. From being away again. Away like leaving my comfort zone. I honestly duno what to say here but it's a good start, aye?
Soon, you'll get more of those real life horror stories. I had bunch.
Despite all best efforts, some people are simply difficult to communicate with. And unfortunately, I've met this person yesterday.
You know? No matter how hard you try, they seem to miss chunks of conversations.
No matter how clear the note, they still twist the message.
No matter how explicit the instructions, they still manage to screw them up.
It doesn't matter what type of conversation you use, how quickly or slowly you use, how many metaphors or descriptions you provide. Or how transparent and clear-cut your message is.
That's how simply difficult to communicate with you.
Kanang maka question nako sakong sarili ba na tama ba akong words na gigamit nganong dili man siya kasabot?
I hope and pray that you stumbled upon this blog, ug marealize nimo nga IKAW jud ni akong pasabot and just want to let you know na dili kaya matulon imong grabe ka maot nga ugali. Mura kag si kinsa makamandar. "KARON DAYON, GUSTO KO KARON NA DAYON, ASA NAMAN?" Sama sa giingon sa mga tawo nga nakadungog sa imong galabaw nga tingog labaw pa daw kas presidente.
Trust me, daghan kaayug witness sa imong pagkamaot nga batasan.
Ug nganu diay kung gikan kag abroad? Di ba dapat humble ka? Isnt it na dapat kabalo ka nga muagig proseso ang tanang butang?
I cried not because I was scared of you. I cried because I was scared of myself. I was scared that I will burst. I was trying so hard that afternoon to never lose myself, and thank GOD I did. Because if I didnt, I swear to God, from the bottom of my hypothalamus, I will hurt your feelings.
Because you won't really like me when I'm pissed.
You asked a question. And I answered nicely. And then you told me "Tarung tarunga ko ha!" so I answered you back "Giunsa diay ka maam? Wala man tika gishagitan." and you turned your head away again saying "tarung tarunga ko"
Magtarungay tang duha eh. Vice versa ba.
Pero still salamat Ginoo sa guidance ug sa taas na pasensya. Ug salamat kay imo silang gihawa sa amoa.
I deserve to be treated with nothing less than respect and kindness.
Engel and I came from Polomolok that day and while on our way back to General Santos City, it suddenly rained heavily. We could hardly see the road, so we decided to park our car on the side, and put on the hazard warning lights.
While we were waiting for the rain to subside, there was an old woman standing near the trees we were sheltering. She was soaking wet, and holding her cell as if she wanted to call someone but could not be contacted. Maybe there was no signal due to heavy rain.
I looked at my husband while he was closing his eyes, and singing along to the song being played inside the car.
I intend to take the old lady along if she was also going to the same direction as us anyway. In my mind, my husband is a helpful one. He barely says no.
I looked back to where she was standing but I jumped in horror when I already saw her outside my car window knocking, soaking wet, and apparently asking for help. I turned my glance to Engel again but he seemed to have fallen asleep by this time.
I opened the car window a little, and asked the lady what she needed but I really cannot hear her voice probably because of the heavy rain.
So, I decided to open the car for her, and let her sit behind me.
"Nay, asa gani ka mag-uli?" I asked her.
She looks soooooo pale. Her skin is ice-cold. And her eyes are so deep as if she didn't sleep for days. The one she wore looks like she came from a funeral because everything in her were all black.
"Nay?" I mumbled.
"Pwede ko mag-uban sa inyo?" She asked.
"Aha man diay ka mag-uli nay?" I asked back.
"Kung asa lang naay mga bus kay mag-uli ko sa amoa. Pila nako kaadlaw sige hulat pero wa gyud gapasakay sa akoa, salamat kay nakita ko ninyo ug salamat kay inyo kong gipasakay"
To tell you honestly, I already had goosebumps. I was shaking inside, and slowly regretting the actions I did. I can no longer get her out, I thought to myself. Coz there she already is, comfortably sitting behind. She talks as if were a close knit.
A few moments later, the rain finally subsided, and I woke my husband up.
"Dad, medyo okay na ang ulan. Tas, pwede ta maghapit sa Bulaong Dad kay ipasakay nato si nanay."
I'm really not sure if my husband heard me because he was a bit focus looking at the road and the side-view mirrors.
I kept looking at her from the rear view mirror from time to time yet it seems like were doing the same thing. I kept lookin at her and she also seemed to be lookin back at me as if I was the only person in the car.
The last time I looked her up, I was so horrified as she appears to no longer have a head. I quickly turned behind and there she was, in front of me as she almost pressed her ice-cold face against mine, while laughing.
Then suddenly my alarm clock rang. It was my 5 o'clock. I opened my eyes, and prayed.
Thank goodness, it's just a dream.
I looked at my husband and my son, both sleeping quietly. I took a deep breath, and prepared myself for day duty.
What a nightmare.
It started when I was young. At first I thought I was mentally ill because I was the only one who sees them. According to the stories of the elders, this only happens to people who were on the brink of death. In addition, a classmate of mine from elementary days called me crazy and freak. (Well, that's another story to tell). Anyway, every time these entities locked their eyes upon mine, the more they're drawn into me.
I was 7 years old when I entered this so-called "other world". We have a neighbor whose husband died because.. I actually don't know what's the cause of his death. A wake was held in their home. I still remember when Nanay Lilia's husband was still alive, sometimes when my Papa and I would pass by their house, he would always call my name "Indaylee! Asa naman pud ka mag-uban sa imong papa?" (Indaylee! Where are you going again with your papa?) I am known by the nickname IndayLee among our neighbors. My dad will just answer, and smile at him.
The night of his wake, we were in their kitchen. Mama and Nanay Lilia were chatting, and somebody called them from the outside. Mama told me to stay for awhile and that she'll be back.
I felt like i've been waiting so long for them to arrive so I left the kitchen, and went around the house to look where they were. However, it was all dark. Very dark. I turned my way back but I can no longer see the kitchen. There was no light or even noise. It's like you were walking blindly but your body knows where to go. I kept walking around until I saw their wooden gate. I went inside, and I saw a coffin. I peeked, but it was empty.
I started to get scared and called mom over and over again. I screamed as loud as I could but my voice was just echoing. I cried and cried until an ice-cold hand patted my head. When I turned my head up, it was a tall, extremely pale man with a medium body build, his eyes were dark and sad. He wore a long black sleeve. He was barefooted, and floating. He was carrying a large candle. I knew his face but I don't remember his name. He asked me "nganong naa ka diri indaylee" (Why are you here, Indaylee?")
I really cannot remember what else happened.. because
when I opened my eyes, I was still alone sitting in the kitchen, but there were already lights and a lot of noises from the outside, and I could hear Nanay Lilia's voice coming over. I hopped like a horse. She saw it and asked me, what's happened. She held my head, and asked why I was soaking wet with sweat. She said she came to pick me up because mama was waiting at the gate. As we went out away from the kitchen, I turned my head back and I saw the pale man again, holding the large candle while staring at us walking away.
Based on a True Story
Honestly, I cannot remember what or how, or where everything started.. Most days, I kept asking myself, why me?
2nd year of my secondary school. Our classroom was separated from another building where only three sections use the area. We were used to be called the "network class students". Our area were surrounded by trees. Lots of trees, plants, flowers, and a huge old tree sitting on the left side of the building. I can't remember what kind of tree was that, but it was enormous.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon, the subject being taught to us was English when one of our classmates suddenly screamed because her seat-mate passed out and had a seizure. It was the first time this happened, and no one knew what to do so they took her to the school clinic.
Second day, for the second time, and at the same time, our classmate passed out again. I looked to the side because there seemed to be a large shadow watching over her. She was taken to the school clinic once more. She already felt fine late afternoon and was sent home.
On the third day, for the third time and all at the same time, something else happened. She was pale, and she was crying and screaming. The shadow that I saw took the shape of a person and was in front of her while slowly facing her. He was gliding. Just a dark face I saw coz it also disappeared after they took her to the school clinic.
I joined, in taking her to the clinic, and that's when I saw the creature's full face. These things are no longer new to me so I am really not that afraid anymore of such. We were inside a cubicle of the school clinic. She kept on crying, screaming. She was really scared. That creature was guarding the exit and he seemed to want to take that classmate of mine. I whispered something to her, (I duno if she still remembers it, if ever she reads this) I closed my eyes, and prayed my heart out while covering her eyes with my hand. I kept praying over and over again, because I can feel the creature was already beside me.
Believe it or not, it happened. It really happened. It was my first time seeing a dark entity. He has very black face, red and glaring eyes. And his hands were like branches of a tree. Whenever I reminisce that event, I can't help but laugh at myself because at that time, I never felt a slightest touch of fear. Because often, I get cold and numb, I cannot move, and I obviously look like a statue whenever these things appear to me.
Anyway, she was being prayed over in the school clinic, she was sent home and was absent for a couple of days.
When she came back, I asked her what she saw. She said "I saw a very black man, red eyes, and was leaning over me in the classroom. And while I was in the clinic, he was watching over, guarding near the exit door"
She didn't even remember that I was there.
When I was going home that afternoon, something told me to look at the tree that used to be beside the building. They cut the tree.
I don't know if anything still bothers her now. Hopefully, no more.
There are moments in life that cut so deep, they stay with us forever. I've had my share of hurt. The kind that makes you question peopl...