a click for my thoughts

Finally Home by Don Wyrtzen

(*When engulfed by terror of tempestuous sea
Unknown waves before you roll)
When alarmed by the fury of the restless sea
Towering waves before you roll
At the end of doubt and peril is eternity
Though fear and conflict seize your soul

(Chorus)
(But) just think of stepping on shore
And finding it heaven
Of touching a hand and finding it God’s
Of breathing new air and finding it celestial
Of waking up in glory and finding it home.

When surrounded by the blackness of the darkest night
Oh how lonely death can be.
At the end of this long tunnel is a shining light,
For death is swallowed up in victory!

Just think of stepping on shore
And finding it heaven
Of touching a hand and finding it God’s
Of breathing new air and finding it celestial
Of waking up in glory and finding it home.

Finally home!

(* I believe were the original lyrics)

But for a moment, close your eyes and just think…of opening your eyes to heaven, to eternal life, and finding our Maker’s magnificent and gracious face greeting you with His loving smile. Wouldn’t that be extremely awesome?
I remember how I fell in love with this song when I was little. The last time I heard this song was when a lady in a funeral service was singing it. And tho’ I didn’t personally know the person who died, I somehow found the song very comforting. And now that I heard it again, it still has the same effect on me, even more.
The words are hopeful and comforting; and with its melody, the song is very inspiring—quite empowering actually. And Tom Fettke’s arrangement just…ah…it’s just uplifting and awe-inspiring! It’s really music! You know how, music ought to uplift our thoughts and our soul to heaven and to God? Well, this is what it does to me, especially the chorus part. Even with my eyes open, I feel like I was being swept and brought closer to heaven just by listening to it. I don’t know whether this song was purposed to be sung in funeral services or not; or whether it diminished into being more or just commonly sung for such purposes or not. But I think this song brings more than just comfort and peace. It brings hope and strength, singing a triumphant song and bringing our gaze towards that blissful and glorious eternity. It is an encouraging reminder that we need not be helplessly lost when dealing with death, for Christ has conquered it for us. And it is an evocative reminder of where our citizenship was meant to be, of where our home truly is—in heaven, with God.
I wish I can share with you the exact music I am listening to. Perhaps you are already familiar with it. Or perhaps you already know or will be able to find a more evocative arrangement. But here is a link:

http://teachustopray.multiply.com/video/item/145/Finally_Home_Piano_Arrangement

(I think youtube has the same and exact video of that lady playing the piano)

What a funny twist of fate! Who knew that in one conversation, things will be clearer and everything else is much better?

I used to write him letters that I wouldn’t even dare to send or give him. I used to scribble all the things I feel and wanted to say, but couldn’t say. Yes, I used to do all those after our friendship turned sour.  And what a rollercoaster ride it was for me to fully grasp and understand what was happening between us. Indeed, it was one chaotic moment in my teenage life…with so much confusion, so much doubt, so much struggle, and so much hurt.

I expressed myself, and my feelings in those letters and in poems. I could not bring myself to shake him and scream at him to force him to tell me what was going on. I used to say, “everything can be resolve with a simple diplomacy and a simple talk”. I guess that is only true when both parties are willing. But I didn’t know what to do if one does not wish to exchange words or thoughts with me. So, when helplessness and what seemed hopelessness overcame me, I succumbed to letting go. And what strong words have I loosen in writing! And what strong words and remarks I regretted.

I wrote, “…I used to say I wouldn’t care anymore, and I will never care…ever… But the great thing friendship taught me is that I will always care…” And it was so true. I used to tell myself over and over again, “I wouldn’t care anymore”. Perhaps, that was to numb myself from the ill feelings I do not wish to feel then. And yet, I kept finding myself caring.

After years of no communication, the pain faded. But the question remains unanswered, shoved to the back corner of my thoughts. It was no longer a mystery I so eagerly wanted to solve. It was no longer a skeleton that haunts my reverie. And every recollection of him became a wondering thought and a hope that someday all will be well somehow.

What a surprise to finally have the opportunity to clear everything! A pleasant surprise to find his willingness and openness! It was a surprise I gladly welcome.

Interesting how some secrets can ruin a friendship, and yet pave the way for other relationships. It is interesting how there are so many things we could have avoided if one single idea had been expressed. Yet it’s also interesting how that one idea might bring ruin if mentioned and made known.

But as I look back now, having all sides of our story pieced together, I can’t help but laugh in amazement of what it was all along. I can’t help but laugh at what it was that brought him and me in such a tangle. I can’t help but felt silly of what I wrote…and felt embarrassed of what I thought. I can’t help but feel glad that despite of it, good things happen for us individually, and somehow good things for other people resulted from it and happened eventually. But also, I can’t help but warmly smile from within about how our simple conversation turned and made everything in our neglected friendship better and clearer.

From the last poem I wrote for him, I said,

            “…It takes an open mind to accept,

            But a clear thought to be reasonable;

            A different environment to visualize,

And a little while to ponder.

            It takes prayer to find strength

            And hope to seek out answers.

            It takes love to try,

            And determination to keep on going.

            It takes patience to wait for time

            –a time that, in a moment, heals.

            It takes forgiveness to forget,

            And understanding to forgive.

            But it will take us a little talk

                To understand.”

Indeed, it took us just a simple talk to rebuild the friendship and to make it even better. And I thank God for the opportunity of that ‘little talk’.  To my good friend…

Welcome back, my good old friend!

I am glad we are both back.

We both have been gone long,

But our friendship seems back on track.

I have forgotten how I missed it,

And how our laughter seemed to lack.

I have forgotten how it was so much fun.

I have forgotten until you brought me back.

Let us celebrate and let us cheer!

Let laughter never lack;

For here we are once again,

My friend, welcome back!

“And things might not always turn out the way I like it to be, but I thank Him for what He already has done for me before and what He has done for me so far. And I know, I only have the picture of what the present reveals, but I believe and I trust that even if I ended up not being able to go to South Korea, He still has something much better in store for me. I will not think He does not call me for His purpose, rather I will think He has a different purpose for me. And I believe, He will provide the next step for me to take.”

About a week after the North American Division approved my assignment in South Korea, the host division (North Asia-Pacific Division) and the General Conference of SDA sent their approval. I was thankful, and too overwhelmed at the same time. It’s amazing how God has been opening doors for me to be able to go. But I knew that another crucial part remains—the visa; for without it I still won’t be able to leave.

Sometime in the beginning of this month, I got an email from the coordinator of the Human Resources of SDA Language School in Korea. With the email is the visa issuance number they have obtained for me in Korea. I was told to contact the Korean Consulate as to how to obtain my visa. I did as I was told and soon I found myself in the Korean Consulate with my passport, application, and other necessary things required of me. I was granted an interview in two days and in two days I was back in the same building.

Before my interview, a female staff came to talk to me and asked me a few questions about my citizenship. She then also said that I am most likely to be denied a visa because I was not born in Canada (or any of the seven countries whose primary language is English), unless I provide a proof that I have studied in any of those countries since grade 7. Of course, I cannot provide such proof. And she told me that it doesn’t matter if I speak english well, or if I have studied in an international school in my home country, it is part of the regulations.

I still did my interview, and she still told me that I have 1% chance of obtaining a visa. Though aware of the disappointing possibility, I dwell on the small window of hope. Praying and hoping that God will make a miracle. But two days after, I received a phone call indicating the official decision that I won’t get a visa.

It was disappointing. And yes, I am sad. I feel like I was Abraham told to sacrifice Isaac. After at least more than a year of praying for it and preparing myself for such decision, after all the open doors that lead me to the last big hurdle, I suddenly encounter a halting stop. But I thank God that I was not left to despair and wallow in devastation. I wasn’t devastated. Somehow I feel like there is still something to hope for.

Oh yes, I had questions. I wonder whether I have read God’s will and God’s leading differently. I wonder what His plan really is for me. I wonder what this experience meant. I wonder if the hope I feel and have in me is a hope that I may still go to South Korea. But just like Abraham, I know God will provide. And though I can’t see the big picture, I know it is something wonderful.

I refuse to believe, or even think, that God is a tease by leading me on to believe I would have something only to withold it from me. I refuse to indulge the idea that God misled me to build my hopes up just to see if I will be faithful still. It sure is a test of faith, but I believe I didn’t go all through the trouble for nothing. For everything God has done for me and for the things He did through me, I know He has a purpose. I still believe He has a purpose for me, and I am willing to follow His will.

Two days after I got the phone call from the Korean Consulate in Toronto, I got a phone call from the SDALS coordinator I was corresponding with. I was told and encouraged to try applying in a different consulate. After letting them know my concerns, they encouraged me to nonetheless try. They provided support and great interest in having me to be able to go and work with them, that my declining spirit was somehow invigorated. However, I was also torn between apprehension due to recent rejection and determination to try every possibility. I wonder if this is another lifeline God is sending me, a ram among the bushes to replace Isaac. And yet, I’m also reluctant that my persistent spirit might get me into misinterpreting God’s will.

But since for now I am only asked to inquire, then in faith I will inquire. I know God will grant the wisdom to know what the next step to take after that.

I am fully aware there is a big chance I will be denied again. I know that there is a possibility that God saw a greater use for me somewhere else. I know that I only know so little of the grand design He has for my life. Nonetheless, “though I may not see clearly, I will lift my voice and sing ‘cause Your love does amazing things. Lord, I know my life is in Your hands. I trust you Lord. My life is in Your hands.”

It still is a struggle for me to say that I thank God for not granting me a visa because I presently do not know what He has instore for me. But I definitely thank Him for the experience. I know there is something to be learned from it. I know it builds character and faith. I know if I stick by Him, God can use me to bring Him glory even in such situation. And I know for sure that He has a wonderful future instore for me.

I thank Him for the open doors He has given me. I thank Him for the guidance. I thank Him for the hope He has given me despite my disappointment. I thank Him for lifting me and keeping me from despair. I thank Him for family who comforts and supports. And I thank Him for everything He has given me thus far and for the things He will provide.

Truly, putting our hope in God is not mere positive thinking. We are aware of the harsh reality of life, but we don’t despair. When we hope in the Lord we will find that there is something to be certainly positive about.  And in our heart is a hopeful, thankful music of praise to sing.

Romans 8:28 – “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

Jeremiah 29:11 “ For I know the plans I have for you…plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!

It is my desire to go to South Korea and be a missionary teacher in SDA Language School. After prayerful consideration, I made up my mind to inquire and apply. And after prayerful preparation, I received an approval from the North American Division. Two more approvals to go and an issuance of visa to wait for, then I will be sure to go.

I praise God not just for the approval of the division and the promising results of my application process, but also for those things from the very beginning of such endeavor that add up to where I am now in the process.

 I know one way or another, He calls me to take part in His mission. But I believe He is the one who gave me that desire to experience being a missionary. He places me in situations I can learn from and lets me experience things that will somehow prepare me for what I must do. He opened doors for me and provided me with people who are kind enough to help and support me. He cultivates the desire within me and strengthens my faith by making things happen accordingly. He sure does have perfect timing…and when anxiety creeps in, He reminds me of how He has guided me so far. Through all the things He has done for me, I can testify that He equips and provides for whom He calls.

There are still more things to prayerfully wait for. And things might not always turn out the way I like it to be, but I thank Him for what He already has done for me before and what He has done for me so far. And I know, I only have the picture of what the present reveals, but I believe and I trust that even if I ended up not being able to go to South Korea, He still has something much better in store for me. I will not think He does not call me for His purpose, rather I will think He has a different purpose for me. And I believe, He will provide the next step for me to take.

For what I have received so far, and for what He intends to give…PRAISE GOD!

(Drafted on June 2008, and finished on October 31, 2008)

With my aunt and lots of people I know of passing away just within a year, the reality of life’s fragility hits closer and closer to home. Listening to the tribute each family member give about their loved-ones made me ponder how wonderful it is if these people, whose life their family paid tribute to, will hear them while they can feel and know how much they have been appreciated and loved by their family, relatives, and close friends that are dear to them. I like what my relatives did when Kaka Yodie, as we fondly referred to and called her, was awfully sick. They paid her tribute while she was still alive. And I think that is when it matters the most. While it is true we do say these kind words about a friend or a love one who passed away to comfort the grieving family, wouldn’t it be so much nicer to know those words are heard by the very person we acknowledge? While there are birthdays, Mothers’ Day, Father’s Day, Anniversaries, and other occasions to celebrate these wonderful people we love, sometimes there’s nothing like the sincerity of saying those loving words without the occasion to cheapen the gesture. So, I thought it would be a good tradition to have in the family to appreciate one another apart from the usual occasion of celebration—letting the people we hold dear know that we love and appreciate them because we really do, regardless if there is a special occasion or not. On that note, let me start with my grandmother.

Lola, that’s how most of the grandchildren call her, is the glue that holds the Adap clan together. If we are a solar system she is the sun. She is in the center, around which our reunions, gatherings, major familial decisions revolve. She is the matriarch, a pillar of our family values and traditions, and the fountainhead of the legacy we carry.

Lola, in her own modest way, adored Lolo, my grandfather (who now is deceased). Their love is evident from the 11 children they bore and their fidelity for each other—only death parted them from each other. My Lola supported my Lolo like any dutiful wife would have done. From household responsibilities to rearing their children, she was always by his side. She cared for him lovingly and without reservation. And she, in return, had my Lolo’s respect and admiration.

Lola is the great mother to her children. Her children’s words testify to that fact. They look back and pay homage to her loving support. Her children praises her for what she’s done for them, for what she is, for who she is, and for what she believes in—she believes in the only one true God. She rejoices with them in their triumphs and accomplishments. When they hurt, she hurts for and with them. And even in her feeble condition, she never fails to care for them even in the simplest way—uplift their concerns up to God. And because of her love for them, they will forever recount her goodness; not just because she is their mother, but also because she is loved by them.

Lola is an endearing grandmother to her grandchildren, and many can recount wonderful memories of her impression in their childhood. I know for a fact that she adores each one of them…each one of us. She keeps pictures of her children and grandchildren and would put up the latest photos on her closet and mirror. She would marvel at how we have gotten big and mature and lovely, to which sometimes she would add a playful remark or question that holds a response that would give credit to her looks as well.

I remember her looking at me like a designer examining her design, and telling me how much I have grown into a beautiful young woman. She said, “Ay, kayganda mo na. Sabi nila sa akin ka raw nakamukha.” (“You are now so beautiful. They said you take after me.”)

She also loves to give. She would receive packs of snacks, sweets, and even fruits for her consumption, yet even though her children and her grandchildren received a share of their own, she would go around and give a handful or a piece to everyone. And when she’s sure everyone has received from her, she either saves whatever remains for another future round of ‘handful’ serving or opens it for those who want seconds.

Lola delights in being included in her grandchildren’s successes. She likes to attend graduations, recitals, and performances. And she relish at the thought that we are well on our way in accomplishing our goals. And for those who are of age, she likes to meet and get to know the people we date, or plan to marry. She would ask, “Would I even meet your boyfriend?” or “When would you introduce your girlfriend to me?” or “When will you ever introduce someone to me?”

Lola is a soldier, someone who keeps pushing through despite of difficulty; someone who persistently survives through challenge—a warrior. And she’s a tough one. She has lived almost a century and weathered storms of poverty, sickness, pain, and even loss. And yet, she continues to lift her banner for her Master and remains to lean in faith. Her hope in God is a crest she bears that will forever be etched on her armor, never to fade.

Yes, she is old. She may be old to take care of herself or anyone. But she will never be old enough to love and be loved. She will never be old enough to be put aside and neglected. She will never be old enough for her company and presence not to be missed by the fruits of her life—her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. And as long as God graciously grants her breath, she is never too old to live. Whoever thinks otherwise neither truly cares nor truly loves.

PS: I realized it’s her birthday tomorrow, but I didn’t intend this for her birthday (tho’ i wish her a happy birthday). It just happened that I finished writing this today.

ah…it feels good to have created something again. i certainly have missed it…thus the third part of confrontation posts was made. now it’s a trilogy…hahaha! altho’ i must admit the third part was quite rusty compared to the first two.  though the others don’t necessarily need closure, i just thought i’d make a third one nonetheless. just because i am compelled to ‘write’ and thought i’d give it a try.  but it’s good that i was able to finish it rather than ending up just deleting the whole thing altogether…like some of my attempted entries. this reminds me of the poem that took me a year to finish…

(drafted on ‘06): Not Every Girl’s Dream of a Love Story

I once saw and met a young man,

  And he, for my love, indeed sought.

With much wooing, and him pursuing,

   My heart was eventually caught.

            She sees and meets a young man,

            The likes of him – the one – I’ve seen.

            And her attention is caught

               Just like how mine had been.

            She looks and she gazes,

            Her eyes were then caught.

            She is soon drawn closer

                Sooner than she would’ve thought.

            Intently she lingers closer,

            And, like I did, she falls for him.

            And to such dismay, my beloved,

               After her, he fell right in.

Alas, oh alas! Woe is me!

For unknown to my knowledge was his deceit.

So when I stumble upon his betrayal,

  My trust broke, my heart sunk—I suddenly felt incomplete.

Questions upon questions

   Wonderings filled my mind.

I may be inexperienced

   But I’m neither stupid nor blind.

Questions upon questions

   He did fail to answer.

“Who is this man before me?”

   I suddenly began to wonder.

Denials upon denials,

   All truth he planned to hide.

But I already have witnessed

   The unmasking of his veiled shaded side.

Promises upon promises,

   One by one lay empty.

No assurance from him was found.

There was no room left for me.

His usual quick reply turned silent.

His comforting words became cold.

His arms that usually reaches out

   Turned limp – useless for me to hold.

And when love’s dying flame faded,

The once glowing reality became a memory;

It’s last glowing ember dimmed into a dream.

(Scoffs) So much for my happy love story!

            I know of a young woman

               Who, for her love, was sought.

            And I knew the man who professed to love her,

               Who, instead, in his deceitful, thoughtless act was caught.

            Without much explaining, he wanted out.

            And out he walked away.

            Yet her love for him confuses me,

               For, despite of pain, she wished he’d stay.

            After his long silence signaled no hope,

               She rose back to stand on her feet.

            Despite of her heartbreaking experience,

               She refuses to accept defeat.

            And somewhere, he sees a young woman,

              The likes of her – the one – he’d seen before.

            And when he was drawn back to her,

            With renewed strength and much wisdom, she said, “No more!”

i just thought i’d include it because it fits the subject–strained effort…just to get back on the groove. hehehe…hurrah, for prose and poetry!

^_^

After a very long time, I never thought I’d hear from her again. But I did. Infact, I saw her again…met her as I was enjoying the rare moments I can be by myself to reflect and think.

Not only she seemed different–she was different. She had confidence way better than her strong resolution before. She greeted me with a smile, and her smile was warm and full of energy. And tho’ she still spoke of many uncertainties in her life, her enthusiasm was unwavered. It was as if she welcomes them with thrilled curiosity.

She is different. I could tell she is free from her “shadows of the past”. She is free to look back and never be shaken by what she would see. She is free to be visited with memories and never falter. She is as resolute as ever, firm and much stronger.

Then, I wondered…was there someone new? She seemed inspired that I couldn’t help but to ask her that. And she laughed at my sheepish expression of curiosity. And I wondered if there was a slight giggle in her laughter, and if that would mean a ‘yes’. Then I was beginning to feel compelled to ask, “is there the old one?” But I held my tongue instead. Perhaps the ‘ex’ became the ‘x’ and had been long forgotten. And yet to all these wonderings she answered ‘no’.

There isn’t a new one, and there isn’t the old one either. The ‘ex’ was often referred to as ‘he’ spoken with ease and nonchalant, yet non-dismissive, reference. And yet as she talks about the subject, I didn’t find any coldness or indifference. I found a heart that welcomes love. And I saw infront of me someone who embraces life, taking it as it is. She now has been living the freedom she yearned to have–freedom from confusion and unpleasant feelings brought by confrontations of a once painful past. And meeting her that day, I realized that we were both confronted with freedom. 

I said good-bye to her, but she shook her head. “Never a goodbye,” she said. I knew then  that it’s true. All the experiences and wisdom that she shared to me will continually live within my memory, and through that she’ll always be with me. I knew that I will see her again. We’ll get together again, laugh at our blunders, and reflect on life’s lessons. And hopefully from then on we’ll share pleasant and inspiring stories of life’s confrontations and freedom.

(This trilogy is dedicated to all who can relate ^_^)

It’s fun to look back from time to time (when looking back neither hurts…nor strains your neck anymore ^_^ ) and try to see how far you’ve come, how much you have changed or improved (preferrably improved), and how much you have grown.

I love looking back at old journals, old photos, old boxes of sentimental trinkets, and just reminisce. Contrasting the past to the present brings a spectrum of emotions. I love sorting through my boxes of ‘aribubot’ and of course when I do so, I automatically would reminisce. Some brought regret, some bittersweet memories…but most often I’d find myself laughing for I would recollect the stupidity and silliness I had (and perhaps still have…but controlled).

I remember reading my old journals…and woah! Talk about ESL! and not to mention the highschool drama! But at least…now this is the part where I say…I’ve grown.

But focusing on my writing style and whatever I can call writing skills, I say strong emotions are my booze that makes me write better. When I was "in love", I was like a hallmark card! And when I was hurt or when I was angry or even upset, I was eloquent with what I feel; describing my thoughts, my opinion, my feelings, my distaste and disgust in the most euphemized way as possible. (Is there such a word as "euphemized"? Well, we can tell I am neither lalady-happy nor raging mad.) And sometimes my thinking seemed profound.

I was reviewing the posts I have here and recollecting a few I had elsewhere and a few I decided not to put up for public display, and I can point out which ones I wrote when I went through break-up, the ones I did when I was moved with sadness or longings, the ones I made when I was excitedly happy or can’t-get-over-the-fact impressed or overwhelmed, and the ones I wrote because of frustration or anger. But then again we can all argue that I can easily point them out because I am the one who made them and I’d remember, even at least vaguely, the period in my life when I wrote them. Good point taken. But, if I ask you to pick one you think is the best I’ve done so far…I’m pretty sure a strong emotion was its muse. Now, don’t pick this…because I think I am far off the real point I intended to have.

But like I said it’s fun to look back. And looking back, I sometimes would inevitably come across with the phrases: "I remember when I thought differently" or "I remember when this is what I know" etc. If I would have a "See how far I’ve grown" series, I wonder…perhaps I can really say I’ve journeyed far…or at least I hope I made that much progress! But then again, you’d only agree with me if you know enough about me.

Oh well. *ponders* Maybe I should have that "see how far I’ve grown" series. ^_^

How do you say good-bye to a loved-one? How do you let go of someone dear?

When a family member leaves, whether we have been very close to him/her or not, we still feel the longings gnawing within us. But when someone in our family dies, we feel the loss along with those longings. How do we say good-bye?

Well, we cry a little. We hurt a little. But is it really how one say good-bye to a loved-one?

I grew up knowing, believing, and seeing that all my father’s siblings, including him, totals to eleven–one short of the twelve tribes of Israel. Of course my knowledge of them and my rapport with each of them varies, but all of them are respected and loved by me nonetheless. So when we heard that their eldest, who was diagnosed with cancer, was brought home from the hospital because doctors can’t do much for her anymore, that lump of impending ‘feeling of longingness’ started to form.

I wasn’t very close to her. I was young to remember all the interactions I had with her. We seldom visited and only saw each other on family reunions; and even during those times, I cared more about playing with my cousins than bond with her or any of my uncles and aunts. But she was always very nice and sweet and loving to me and my cousins, and all the little ones. And I remember thinking that most likely during their younger days, she was probably the most beautiful among my father’s sisters (no offence to my other aunts ^_^). So to see a picture of her lying on her bed, ridden with illness and too weak to even stand…I couldn’t seem to believe it. It was as if I refuse to replace the beautiful image of her I always have in my mind.

And now, she’s gone. I didn’t cry, but that doesn’t mean I am not sad. I try to remember what I can remember about her, and how I wish I have plenty to recount. It will be the only thing that we have of her. And I still cannot fully fathom how the ‘eleven’ won’t be ‘eleven’ anymore. It seems so hard to get it to sink in.

I take pride in my family. Tho’ we’re scattered to different places, somehow the existence of others brings comfort one way or another. Our joys, our pain…everything we know of each other are shared. And we know there’s quite a good number of us who share the load we carry, the accomplishment we celebrate, the prayers we utter…that even the loss of one is greatly missed.

How do we say good-bye to a loved-one? How do we let go of someone so close and dear? I think the answer is…we don’t. Even in death it is never a good-bye. It is ’see you in the resurrection morning’. Burying a loved one who passed away does not mean letting go; for even in grave, ties are not severed. And I believe that, for my aunt, we will see her when Jesus comes again –a comfort that soothes our sad longings.