Having Dessert

It's past 8 pm and all of my teammates have left for home. Only Norah Jones is keeping me company. Her relaxed voice wafting through the air as if lulling me to sleep. But no, sleepy I am not. I can never be sleepy for dessert.

Writing--this is dessert. While editing can tax my mind sometimes, writing energizes me. Writing just because I want to, not an article due for a newsletter nor an overdue letter to an author, gives me a high. It's like scooping vanilla sundae dripping with thick chocolate syrup with marshmallows on top. Like feeling the soft flesh of the sweetest mangoes in my mouth. (Did I tell you that writing makes me hungry? I wonder why.)

I've been delaying this gratification for days now. I made a pact with myself not to write anything until after my emceeing stint at our booklaunch; promised to finish my parttime editing project before I write another non-work related word again. So here I am, enjoying my dessert, at last. Guilt-free.

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Three days from now I will fly to Koronadal City and stay there for a week. Funny because I feel my heart has already left ahead of me. During odd times of the day, as my mission adventure draws near, I think of the people I will meet. How do they look like? What do they think of Manilans like me? Will I stick like a sore thumb in a crowd? Can I really blend in with the Muslim women with my purple pashmina, which I hope, could pass for a decent head covering? Could I communicate with members of the T'boli tribe and ask them what life is like? How will I tell them about a real and personal God who they mistake for an unreachable deity?

With these questions in mind, I will pack my carefully-chosen clothes, toiletries, beddings, my Bible, some other books. As I zip my backpack, I'll make sure that with my bottle of Centrum, I'll bring an extra bottle of understanding (just in case the reserve in my heart runs out). They say a spoonful of this a day will make me extra-compassionate and sensitive to the needs of my countrymen I call strangers. As I slip the rechargeable batteries in my bag's side pocket, I'll pray that God will keep me going with His love, keep me singing with His joy.

My ticket indicates I'll be taking an economy seat via Philippine Airlines. But I could very well be flying on hope.