30 Photos Challenge: Photo #1

Photo 1)
A picture of yourself with ten facts.

Yes, this is me. And I am taking on the 30-day photo challenge. Here goes. :D

Fact #1: I am DeAnne Kerstin Lino Leones. My name DeAnne was coined from my parents' names, Dean and Ann. No kidding. I recently learned, though, that I don't have a unique name or even a unique backstory for that name after all. But oh well, I am special in God's eyes!
DeAnne is a variant of Deanna, which is an Old English word meaning "valley/church leader." Kerstin is a Latin / Schandinavan word (daw), a variant of Kristen, that means "Follower of Christ." I'm glad that I am living up to my name, by God's grace! :)

Fact #2: The main reason I took up AB Psychology, if I be honest enough to admit it, is to help understand myself better so that I can help young people like me deal with themselves. I really hope I could do that. Understand myself better, that is. :P

Fact #3: I learned to commute by myself only when I was in college. I took the bus to school everyday since the third week of my freshman year. I was forced to do it.

Fact #4: I am a thinker-relater. People think I'm a snob or my head is in the clouds, but honestly, that depends on my mood. And I am quite moody. (Go ask my best friends!) So if I'm meeting you for the first time, don't expect me to talk much. But you can talk all you want, I'll just listen. :)

Fact #5: Most people say my smile is what draws them to me. I win people's hearts with it. I can't believe that I have that kind of charm, but I guess I just have to accept it as true if a LOT of people say that about me. So I guess I can call it my asset. :P

Fact #6: My passion is arts. I live music. I live writing. I am not the best in either, but I think I can go places if I apply myself to the craft. I like to think of myself as kind of a free spirit. A kind, I say, kasi nga, thinker ako. I am naturally apprehensive, generally. But when it comes to my passion, hindi masyado.


Fact #7: I've worn glasses since I was 13. But I guess my eyesight had gone bad way before that.


Fact #8: If I were ever to hold a grudge against you, it would take an extra long time for me to get over it. I can be unreasonable when I am upset, but all it takes is a lot of time. Give me enough to think things through. Don't rush me, or else I'll snap at you. I don't like confrontations, but I'm learning to face it when I know I should. I have a handful of people whom I wish not to see or hear about again.

Fact #9: I started singing when I was three. I was a child wonder. But, alas, I grew up and became a has-been. (I'm not bitter. :P) LOL.


Fact #10: I am so random but so into this that it took at least 45 minutes for me to type all these words. I wasn't stopping. :))


THANKS FOR READING! More soon!

Is Your Love Right?

Last Sunday, our youth group had a forum about love. The whole discussion stemmed from this question: "Is your love right?"

Single: Sincerely, Seriously.

During a discussion on relationships in our college Sunday school class a month ago, our teacher (and my mentor) Ate Jen asked us to state our relationship status. She said, if I remember right, that there were 5 classifications under the "SINGLE" status:

Your Basic D.I.D. = Discipler in Denial

Is having the superhero complex a bad thing? I'd been wondering about it for some time now...

Superhero complex means, in my own words, the tendency (or urgency?) to save a seemingly helpless person from impending harm.

Last sem, in Social Psychology class, we had a discussion about helping. One of the points that I discussed was that people usually tend to help those whom they think need help. The implication of that is, when we don't think that a person is helpless, and/or when we think that his being in a tight situation can be attributed to his own...well, stupidity (i.e. poor choices, lack of foresight, little sense of responsibility),then we won't help.I think that's logical, yeah. But how about helping people whom we only think need help but actually don't?

In an earlier blog, I wrote some thoughts as to why I wanted to be a psychologist. I read it again earlier today, and it hit me that maybe I am guilty of having the superhero complex.

Simply saying, it's just that sometimes I feel that there's too many people who are too helpless or innocent to be exposed to, and even to experience, the wickedness of the world.

As Christians, we may call it empathy. We may see it as just genuine concern. We may look at it as goodwill.
But is it possible to maybe, just maybe, overdo being "God's special agents on earth," to the point that we become overzealous in saving other people from the snares of evil?

No, I'm not really talking about evangelism. Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of discipleship.

I just realized that it is possible for mentors to "baby" their disciples. To spoon-feed them with bite-sized Bible bits instead of letting them cut up the chunks for themselves. To strap them in a stroller and take them wherever. To keep them in a walker and let them explore, but only to a certain distance. Stuff like that. You could prolly read between and within the lines. Superhero complex in action.

Maybe it's the reason why kids nowadays are either too rash or too reserved.

:)

Nonetheless, I do recognize that mentors are there to guide and help mold us. Admittedly,I wasn't actually discipled by anybody, except, of course, my parents. But now as a discipler, I find myself wondering, "Am I doing this right? How long am I gonna let this person be dependent on me? How will I know if s/he's ready to stand on his/her own?" I'm not really looking for immediate answers, because obviously, this isn't something I can rush. (The discussion in Lead 4 class also made me think about this some more.)

I don't know if any of this makes sense. (Actually, I'm really sleepy already. LOL.) But this I say: No, I can't be a superhero. I can't even save myself from the bad things. And I'm not sure I am even worthy of being a discipler. But this I know: I want to be in the business of changing lives. For the better. With my best.

8 Questions: Tagged by Alyssa

Not sure how this works. Am I supposed to come up with my own questions to ask too? :)

Anyway, here are my answers to Alyssa's questions.

1. Who are your heroes? (Dead or alive.)

My mom, CILB, and my journal. They all keep me in check with my thoughts and emotions, and at the same time let me dwell on them when they know I have to.





2. What do you collect? Why?
PENS!!! I'd been obsessed with cute gel pens FOREVER. ;) Not sure why, though. Maybe it's because I like writing and I like writing in color. You should see how I take notes in class! Of course, because I am addicted to writing material, with pens I also collect notebooks and journals. (Oh, I'm imagining Alyssa's reaction to this. Hahaha!)
3. What is one book (aside from the Bible) you could read over and over again and never tire of?
Seriously, they're too many, and I can't really choose! ;)
But methinks this is one worth mentioning. This was the first novel by Nicholas Sparks that I've read. :)

4. If you could trade places with a book character, who would it be and why?

Lauren Kline from If Only It Were True (Just Like Heaven). I think I wanna try being a "ghost," too. :)

5. What have you always wanted to do but have never gotten a chance to do yet?
Write a book!

6. What is the most important advice you were ever given?
Don't aim to be better than somebody else. Don't compare yourself to others. Just be the best YOU that you can be.

7. What's the best gift you've ever received?
LOVE! Of God, of family, of friends.

8. What is do you want to do to make a difference in this world?
(Ano daw, Alyssa? Haha.) The best way to make a difference is to be the difference. I'd train myself to be disciplined, and influence others to do so, too. Ditch mediocrity! Haha.

On Idols

I really don't understand why some people want to meddle with the affairs of others.

On Narciso Matienzo

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
--Emily Dickinson

The impact of the news just dawned on me. Is it really true?

Now I try to remember the day I first walked into his Filipino class three-and-a-half academic years ago, but fail. Instead, some fond memories of him come in little bits and pieces...

The first time I texted him I was going to be late. When I got to class that day, he scolded everybody (but I knew it was really for me) saying, "Kung masama ang pakiramdam niyo, wag niyong intindihin, dahil pakiramdam niyo lang 'yun!" Of course, he had the right to say that, because he never let anything stop him from holding a class--especially not sickness. He didn't miss more than 5 sessions in the three semesters that I had him as my professor, if I remember right. He rarely canceled, unless he was compelled to (i.e. His wife set him up for a doctor's appointment, and he loved her too much not to show up, even if he didn't want to go).

When I learned that he just commuted to and from school, I was shocked. Well, yeah, maybe he was too old to drive himself around, but I was thinking he could have afforded a car and a driver. Or it would have been much more comfortable to ride the FX. But no, he took the bus everyday! His arguments? 1) Bus fare is cheaper, and 2) he lives near the station, anyway. So on nights when Jojo and I are really desperate to go home, we board the Cainta bus and sometimes get to ride with him. (The one time we did was when he was with his wife--that's where we met her--and yes, they were going home from the doctor's clinic.)

I always get to spend the longest times with him at the start and end of the semester. Everybody knows how much he wanted to talk with people, especially students. He always was full of stories. I enjoyed these times because I felt that he was sincerely enjoying my company also, but sometimes when you have a conversation with him, you lose track of the time. Even if I wasn't really interested in what he'd be saying at first, because I wanted to get done with clearance as soon as I could, something in the way he talked and laughed and the way his face lit up made me stay longer than I planned to. And every time I asked him to sign my clearance form, he'd signed it right away, but he held onto it until he was done talking with me. Funny. It was like he was always putting me in a trap. One time he must have sensed it, because he said to me, "Bakit ba kayo palaging nagmamadali? Ako nga, o, tignan mo, ang haba-haba ng pirma ko at hindi ako nagmamadali, para maganda ang sulat at gumanda yang mga report card niyo, dahil ang papangit ng grado niyo!" And we'd laughed so hard he ended up with a coughing fit, but was still laughing anyway.

I'm trying to reminisce in an orderly way, but I guess when you're remembering someone like him who's had such a big impact in your life, things will always come at random...and it's hard to put thoughts into words.

I wouldn't have traded Kwentology (a.k.a. Filipino 1, 2, and 3) for any subject in the world. Those were History, Biblical Studies, Philosophy, and Life classes rolled into one. It was obvious, his passion for teaching. He always ended each class with something we could think about, something about life or God that we should consider.

He beamed whenever he talked about his family. You could see the pride in his eyes whenever he called out the best students in class; likewise, you could sense disappointment in his voice when he announced that almost the whole class failed. But he was always encouraging and patient. He wasn't only a professor. He was a friend, even a lolo. After lunch, he'd be napping in one of the lobby couches, and he was never grumpy even if students were fooling around and making a lot of noise. Later last semester, he even resorted to sleeping in the library; he understood that kids needed their fun, just as he needed rest.

When I heard about his accident, I'd have to admit that I found it kind of funny. It was so like him to cross the street where there was a huge sign that says it's dangerous, knowing all those stories of his boyhood; he admitted to being sutil, after all. (I'll never forget his misadventure with his father's itak!) Not taking the implications seriously, I always believed that he'd get well soon enough. Of course, we constantly prayed for him, but I always thought he'd get through it.

Well, now, I guess he did...just not in the way I expected him to.

I always told the Freshmen that their Messiah experience couldn't be complete without Doc. I feel extra, extra privileged to have shared a tiny part of his life while he was still with us. Now, he is with the Father, in Heaven, basking in His glory. No more blood transfusions, head trauma, diabetes, slippery roads, rain, or illegal pedestrian crossings to keep him from doing what he's supposed to.

LORD, thank you for the life of Doc Matienzo. We miss him, but the love and companionship we can offer is no match to what You are giving him now. I won't ask for another one like him, but I pray for those lives whom he has touched--may his legacy continue through us.

For a professor and friend. Hanggang sa muli po, Doc!

On Life: Somebody to Listen

I used to snicker at the idea of people being willing to pay a total stranger just so he/she can have somebody to talk to. Literally, bumibili sila ng kausap. I mean, who would do that? Someone really desperate and lonely, I guess. I just couldn't believe there were actually people like that.

However, when I was thinking about what course to take up in college, I realized that I want to be just that. No, not the person who's looking for someone to talk to; I have friends naman. But other people don't. And I started to feel that I want to be that somebody who'll be willing to listen. And who will listen.

That's why I took up Psychology.

Sometimes, I feel that people aren't so...responsive when I say I'm a Psych major. They're not that thrilled as they would probably be when I would have said I'm taking up Advertising or Journalism. Neither do they consider it practical as opposed to Nursing, nor as prestigious as Medicine, Engineering, or Architecture. After all, all psychologists ever do is listen to their clients rant about their life's misery and woe, right? It's like there's a stigma that says "Everybody can 'do' psychology. Why study it?"

I think most people got that wrong.

For one, not anybody can really "do" psychology. There's more to it than common sense. (Besides, what used to be common is not so anymore, actually.) I don't believe guidance counselors and HR personnel are just anybody. I like to believe that they started with the desire to help change society and the world, and they chose this field because they believe that people are worth investing in.

Now here I am in my senior year, trying to absorb as much as I can from my professors' experiences, their lectures, my textbooks, and personal research; and finding myself thinking about how I'm gonna actually put all this to use when I graduate. But then, I realized I don't have to wait for graduation or my first job to apply all these things, seeing how handy all this information could be for my ministry at church, especially with the youth.

I guess what I'm really just trying to say is that I am amazed at how God has worked in my life, allowing me to attend Messiah College, study Psychology, and experience how it is to be discipled, so that I'd be prepared to serve as a youth leader. Lately, I've felt God making my heart heavy towards helping today's youth, especially in our church, and opening my eyes to look for ways to address their needs and help them to grow and become mature, to "come out of the box," to find their niche, and to reach their full potential--in other words, be the kind of young men and women God meant for them, and all of us, to be. I count myself blessed for being granted this calling and opportunity for service.

As H. Norman Wright said, "...a counselor...is called to be a caregiver in the lives of those who come to [him] for help." Most of the time, we overlook the importance and value of helping others. But really, even the simplest gesture, like smiling to someone who passes you by or walking with an elderly crossing the street, can mean so much to others. It is my personal conviction to make the world a better place, in whatever way I can. And I believe being a psychologist would make me equipped to do that.

Even if I am not a licensed counselor yet (and God-willing I will be in the near future), I believe that God will use me to help change the world...

...even simply through being somebody to listen.

From the Diary of a "Perfect Girl" (also known as the Drama Queen)

Nothing is totally 'up to me.'

Otherwise, I could have always done and gotten whatever I had wanted. And I could always do and get whatever I want. And everything I want to do or get or be or go to or happen will always will.

However, REALITY CHECK: Something can ALWAYS come up--UNEXPECTEDLY, mind you--and ruin your show.

Yes, even rip apart your legendary set...undo your death-defying hairdo...waste all your energy rehearsing, all your money splurging, all your sweat, tears and blood that was shed for the sake of the actualization of the performance of your life. (which is now, apparently, not.)

Yes, that is reality. Tragic... and true--oh, so very much, indeed!

I can say so, because it happens to me.

Yes.
TO ME.

And why does this matter so much, you wonder?

Well, I never!

Of course, because perfect people don't get stuck in a rut, that's why!
And perfect people are not, cannot be, bogged down...by ANYTHING, in ANY way.

But, actually, perfect people are the first ones who fall, shrivel up, and become miserable.

Hmm...

There is, however, a choice I can make. I can either sulk about it, or hope for a 'better luck next time' (in which case I hope I will not be required to break both my legs).

Perfect people know what's supposed to be. And I know what the RIGHT choice is.

Yet, here I am, disregarding that knowledge, and still wallowing in the deep, dark misery of my so-called misfortune.

I am a drama queen, after all. I live exaggeratedly.

Nonetheless, the lesson to be learned: Others are not to be blamed for plans that do not push through. Actually, no one, nothing, is to be taken at fault.

Not fate. (Simply not.)

Not the security guard outside who's going bald from excessive head-scratching and hair-pulling because of stress. (Mob control is a hard assignment, I guess.)

Not that strictly unimaginative and artistically unappreciative producer who, in spite of his non-existent creativity, still keeps producing shows like mine, and watches each one. (Beats the hell out of me.)

Not the limply-hanging, discolored curtains, reeking with the smell of mothballs. (Seriously.)

Not the violinist who keeps playing out of tune. (Are there no understudies for members of the orchestra?!)

And especially, most definitely, NOT those very special people who promise to come and see you perform but don't, and think that they have the right to tell you, "Please don't get upset. I couldn't help it," and actually GET MAD AT YOU when you feel sad about their non-appearance.

So maybe a nose got cut off, or eardrums suddenly burst, or there's a flu to nurse or a driver's license examination to study for (?!), or whatever. I can understand when a reason is valid. I do! But that doesn't mean I HAVE NO RIGHT to feel rotten inside. I can't help that, too. Because they DON'T know that I put up with the whole freakin' shindig for 'em, and that every act, every tear, fit of laughter, and body movement was inspired, is intensified by them. I put it on, put everything on, for THEM!

...

And just like every other, today's show was for someone...

I've proved that "NO SHOW" can mean various things. Ask me. Har!

...

Heck, I tell everybody else to think positive. Why can't I heed my own advice?

...

Bye, Summer. Hello, Tomorrow

In a matter of days, my summer vacation will be officially over.

I could confidently say it was a much productive summer vacation compared to the two others I've had since I went into college, although this year, my cousins and I weren't able to go swimming. AT ALL. Ha ha! And add to that, I wasn't able to join the Cross-cultural Trip to Cambodia and Vietnam. Yes, I missed out on a lot of great stuff, like PASSION MANILA (hmph!), BUT! I believe that GOD had other things in mind for me, and the "great stuff" weren't part of the itinerary He had mapped out. Instead, He let me be heavy with burden for the music ministry at church and let the Worship Workshop happen. With that, there was revival for our youth. There had been discoveries of new passions, acquisition of new skills, a new anointing so great and amazing, and overall, an awesome worship experience. In other words, God let His fire fall down on us, and He let me see His face. It was like He was saying, "I could have done this a long time ago, if you had asked Me to. I'm so glad you finally did. Thank you for answering My call. Welcome back, kid. I love you." God is wonderful.

So now, here I am, after almost three months of vacation, ready to face the future--and the start of my 4th and final year in college--armed with renewed hope, a revived heart, an unburdened spirit, more love, a burning passion. It won't be easy. And I won't always feel like this. I'll drift away. I'll get tired. People won't get me. But He always will. He won't let me fall. He holds all my tomorrows. And the best part? He's also holding my hand.