Reading: Special Delicacy

One evening when I was busy combing my dad’s shelves, I found a small book of Mark Finley. It was written Revive Us Again on the cover. Before opening the inside, suddenly dad appeared in the room and said, “Read that book! It’s worth reading it.” I paused for a moment. I randomly opened the pages and made a quick reading at some paragraphs. My eyes stopped on a paragraph which stated, “Jesus was never too busy to pray. His schedule was never too packed to spend time with His Father in communion. He never had so much to do that He rushed in and out of His Father’s presence.” After reading that paragraph, I said to my dad, “I think I’ll have this book.” Dad’s reply was just simple, “Get it! It’s yours” I beamed.

Inspirational Book

Reading is my special delicacy; I can’t live without eating this delicacy. I love having my serenity reading soul-motivating books. My dad has been my great contributor for giving me great books. He is not only giving me books but also  asking to translate books from Indonesian to English. One more thing, revisiting dad’s bookshelves is always beyond excitement! Many things I have learned from the books he gave.

In my inner heart, I thank all those authors who exert their efforts to write such life-inspiring books. I have a dream, someday and one day, to write a soul-motivating book with my beloved dad. :D God bless this dream. Amen!

Draw Me and Write Me!

When I was a little girl, I spent countless time flipping pages of my storybooks. What I loved the most was to see those coloring pictures that never ceased to amaze me.  I didn’t spend too much time on reading them, in which, I regret it so much. A picture can truly inspire the readers to savor every detail of it, and through pictures, I also gained plenty of insights to teach my students how to learn and enjoy English. In teaching English, we have to cover up the four macro skills: Listening, Speaking, Reading, and Writing. And for me, guiding children how to write is not a piece of cake; it’s a piece of steel! ^.^ Hence, in my serenity, I had some in-depth learning through readings lots of books of how to make children enjoy writing. Eventually, I figured out that many writers agree that through pictures or drawings, teachers can build student’s passion for writing.

In this post I’d like to share three of my amazing experiences with my three vigorous students. Honestly, I was deeply blessed to be part of this teaching adventure with them. I wasn’t just a teacher to them; I was also their classmate, which means together we established our writing skills.

My first private student was Vienzo. He’s an Indonesian, but I met him in the Philippines. When I taught him, he was still 5 years old and barely knew English. At first, I was having hard teaching him; he was too mobile–he liked jumping, shouting more than studying. I was sort of juggling in handling him. Therefore, I decided to purchase plenty of English storybooks with fascinating pictures, aiming to make him sit still. Ta-da! It worked well–smooth as h*ll ^_^ I succeeded to make him enjoy the study. Stealing more of interest, I challenged him to draw something and asked him to write a story through his drawings. Gradually, he was able to establish basic techniques of writing.

Engrossed in drawing and writing

My second private student was Dion. He was four years old when I met him. His mom happens to be my second cousin, and she wanted her son to learn English, so she requested me to teach him the language. I also put Dion in my collection of a mobile student; his liveliness was beyond Vienzo. He recharged me every single minute. He was the most hilarious and cunning kid I’ve ever encountered. To steal his attention, I drew lots of cute pictures for him to get interested in learning. By exerting efforts in building his passion for language, he finally, at the age of 5, was able to read and write some English words.

Fun Learning

My drawings to drag Dion’s attention ^.^

The third experience I had was with Richard, an eight-year-old boy. He was pretty much docile. It was never hard teaching him, probably age does matter.  I could apply all methods to him without him complaining. He has passion for drawing, and it became my bridge to cross his world of learning. Hence, I challenged him to write an emergency storybook. To my surprise, he was able to create three hilarious stories in his emergency storybook.

Showing His Emergency Book

a story of two penguins (inspired by happy feet movie :D)

About bullying

about voracious ant

Finding one’s interest is one of the most pivotal weapons for teachers to be carried along. a picture or drawing is children’s world of imagination. When we dive into their world, all they’ll do is to ask for more.  Gradually, I begin to see the fruits of my works. Simply by asking them to pour out all their imagination in drawing and writing. You may not know that our imagination screams, “Draw me and Write me!” ^_^



Thank you for reading my post, just to let you know I’m open for suggestions, ideas, or inspirations of what to write. Stay connected!

Randomly Captured : I am ‘HUT’

One Sabbath afternoon, my friend and I were invited to enjoy the beauty of our friend’s garden. She is Mrs. Anas Situmeang; she’s the epitome of creativity; a woman who is blessed with a heart of gold. Although she’s much older than us, she reflects a vigorous young spirit. It’s always been a pleasure to be around her. One thing that I admire from her is her remarkable passion for nature.  Spending hours and hours in her garden is what she loves the most–gardening is her soul. She told us once that she doesn’t mind being under the scorching sun while planting; because she loves doing it.

That afternoon, she excitedly showed us that she just built a small green hut. Enthusiastically, she shared with us how she designed and built it by her own hands, however, she also got a help from a student who stays in her house. We entered the hut, scrutinizing the details of it. She told us that she always spends her time reading, writing, and correcting students’ papers inside the hut. Indeed, when you truly want to create something and you make it happen, the joy is indescribable. I could see the sparks of bliss in her eyes. She does what she loves!




I do love nature, but what I don’t have is the passion for planting or gardening. I wish I could steal that passion from Mrs. Anas. One time my mother showed me that she just bought a flower in a pot and asked me to baby-sit her newly bought flower while she was gone for a couple of weeks. It was a beautiful flower. To my surprise, that was the first time I saw my mom buy a flower in a pot. I didn’t question about it.  I just agreed to do what she ordered.

Day 1: I was so ready to water the plant. Day 2: I was still aware of that little creation of God. Day 3: I almost forgot to water the plant, Day 4: I totally forgot about it, Day 5: I didn’t even think of it, Day 6: Was it still there? I wondered, Day 7:  When I checked, I saw it withered. Yes, it had taken its last long breath.

Upon her returning from the trip, she saw her dead flower. She summoned me and started asking some questions. The only words I said to her was ‘Sorry, mom. I forgot’. That time, I was blind enough to see the beauty of God’s nature; I didn’t even care. I should have realized that NATURE is the glimpse of God’s smile.

Thank you so much for taking time to read my post. I hope my post is worth reading and I excitedly welcome inputs from you who may share some common interests. Just to let you know that I love your kindred spirit.

Each Day and Always

Each day and always,

I search meaning of life,

hoping for an act of tenderness.

Each day and always,

I cried out your name,

asking for your forgiveness.

Each day and always,

I witness your love poured upon me.

Each day and always,

I feel the blessings from thee.

When the day passes by,

I proclaim your mighty acts

Each day and always,

I praise your righteous acts

Each day and always,

Your Holy Spirit filled me with power.

Each day and always,

my loves for You grows bigger.

Each day and always

I want to walk by Your side.

In You, I abide.


Once upon a time,

the word LOVE appeared

to me . . .


I knew nothing about love

I knew nothing about how to love

I knew nothing about to love things that I do not love

I knew nothing about what love can do


I’ve learned what love is

I’ve learned what love can do

I’ve learned that love can change life

And I’ve learned to love


Love will always be love

Love is amazing

And I’ll always keep the love I have


Love is Y-O-U . . . just Y-O-U

Epitome of Creativity

I wish I could do lots of things in my life. Taking piano lesson. Being in pastry class. Learning how to sew. Plenty more. Well, I accomplished none! I’m a person who cannot play any kinds of instruments, I also don’t know how to cook well, and I’m hopeless of learning to make my own skirt. I wish I could turn back the time, and learn what I wanted to accomplish. No, I don’t regret MY life. I just wish something might be different if I had done this . . . and that . . . ^.^

My mom is someone I look up to. She has accomplished many things in life. She knows how to cook, bake, sew, fix a broken cord, braid her own hair without looking at the mirror, chop the head of a chicken (ewww. . . ), well, it is hard to narrow down to a few. I envy her somehow. She’s such a hard-working person; she is my epitome of creativity. I’m truly the opposite of her. But here is the thing I would like to share–something that runs through my blood that I got from her.
My mom loved sewing us dresses when we (my sister & I) were kids. The last time my mom made me a dress was when I was 20 years old, but now she’s too way busy with her woman’s ministry. Mom designed and stitched us beautiful dresses. Though, there were also some of her designs that couldn’t match my likeness. (I loathed wearing them that time). There were times we debated in terms of design. I wanted this but she wanted that. I wanted to show a bit of my thigh, but my mother made me a nun-like skirt. I wanted the arm part to be sleeveless, but she ended up making long sleeves, wherein I could wipe my snot. Nevertheless, lots of her designs made me blissful. One thing that I couldn’t understand that time was why she always made me yellow dresses (had plenty of them).
 One time my mom taught me how to stitch. At the very first hour, I was so excited and alive, but later I couldn’t endure the intricacies–my mood began to shrink. I got tired and grumpy. I stopped. Until now. And at this very moment, part of me wanted to go back to that time and be with her, stitching and designing elegant dresses, I wish . . .
One night when I arrived home for a vacation, I opened mom’s closet. I saw plenty of quality fabric, sitting still on the top shelf. I touched each of the fabric; it is soft and has its own character! I told my mom whether I could have some of the fabric, and she allowed me to get some (not all ^.^). Indeed, that was the time I fell in love in designing dresses. I can’t sew dresses, but I always search for good seamstress to make me the dresses. Those dresses below that you’re about to see are my designs. I read plenty of magazines, articles, blogs to gain some insights to make the patterns. My interest has changed; I prefer to ask someone to make a dress for me with affordable price than to buy dresses in a mall.

1. Semi-Kebaya Gown

2. Korean-style Kebaya

3. Kalimantan-style dress

4. Ghanaian Print

5. versatile, monochromatic dress

6. botanical dress

7. printed dress

                                       8. embroidered bolero

Dress no.1
Actually the design wasn’t supposed to be like that; the seamstress made it wrong. She made a tube-style gown which I hated so much. So I asked her to create an emergency bolero to cover the upper part. And Ta-da it turned out ‘fantageous’. ^.^

Dress no. 2
I made this kebaya special for my sister’s wedding. I don’t really like wearing kebaya. Everytime I wear one, I look like a hundred years old. So I designed something cheerful to make me look younger.

Dress no. 3
I love the fabric so much. It won’t rumpled even after you wash it. It is from Kalimantan (somewhere in Indonesia). I truly love the design. I wore this during my friends’ graduation in the Philippines.

Dress no. 4
It was a present from my Ghanaian friend for my graduation. It’s such a beautiful fabric. I had it made in the Philippines. Unfortunately, my friend hadn’t had time to see me wear this dress.

Dress no. 5
I truly dislike the fabric at first. It’s easy to rumple and hard to iron. I asked my seamstress to buy me the fabric, but she bought me the unquality one. It was also costly. However, I couldn’t argue too much; she had sacrifice her time to buy that fabric. Well, it turns out to be OK and versatile, I can easily spice it up with other clothes or accessories, as you can see in the picture.

Dress 6
It was from my mom’s closet. I love the simplicity. It’s so light; I can feel it every time I wear it. Well, I almost tore it out because I gained weight a lot–as you can see the difference between the first picture and the second picture. I’m maintaining my weight so I can always wear it. ^.^

Dress 7
I bought the fabric in the Philippines. I didn’t plan to buy it. That time I was accompanying my friends to Divisoria (somewhere in the Philippines). I found the print intriguing. The intricate print made me buy it. So, I asked my seamstress to sew it for me.

Bolero 8
Another fabric from mom’s closet. It’s sort of uniform in the family (mom, my elder sister, and my younger sister). They made blouse and skirt, but I told the seamstress that I only wanted a bolero.

I still have plenty of dresses that I designed by myself, but I just haven’t got a chance to take picture with those dresses. Will set time soon to upload more designs. I thank my mom for being my best epitome of creativity. For your information, this coming December vacation, I’ll start learning how to sew a skirt with my mom. I’ve booked her for that. 😀 Can hardly wait! Yuhu . . .

Thank you so much for taking time to read my post. I hope my post is worth reading and I excitedly welcome inputs from you who may share some common interests. Just to let you know that I love your kindred spirit.

Beyond My Finite Mind

“Do you want to join body rafting?” a friend asked me. Hearing it, I got so interested. Hence I asked him to explain what was it about and he just told me that it was a heart-racing adventure. The word ‘ADVENTURE’ really captured my attention. I accepted his challenge.

Early in the morning, at 7 am, we assembled in front of the hotel. There were twelve of us who would join ‘body rafting’. As everyone had gathered, we left the hotel, heading to the place. I could picture myself smiling all the way long–I certainly couldn’t wait to challenge myself . Honestly, I had no idea at all about this nature activity, but my adventurous vigor spoke louder that time. We first went to the equipment area, wherein, we had to equip ourselves with life jacket, knee-pad protector, swimming boots, and helmet. INTERESTING! I kept saying to myself. “This going to be so much insane!” I could see all my friends felt the same way as I was. After we were done with all the equipment, we headed towards ‘GUHA BAU’ -(the name of the place for body rafting) with four guides. We had to leave the cars and rode a mini truck towards that place because it was a rocky, treacherous journey.
 Before the torture begun
The mini truck stopped at a peak of a mountain, and the chief guide explained to us that we had to track down the mountain in order to reach the river. What? By wearing this equipment? Hello . . .this is not for mountain tracking! Well, We couldn’t argue except to follow the instructions. The equipment that we wore doesn’t actually fit at all for tracking down a mountain. Our swimming boots are so slippery and sort of delicate. Despite the struggle we had to encounter. we still managed to jabber, making fun of ourselves.

Deadly vehicle 😀

Eventually, we arrived at the river. No wonder the name is GUHA BAU–it is because there’s a big cave that has disgusting, striking smell. Guha means Cave and Bau means Smelly. Everyone, including me, couldn’t stand the smell. I used my shirt to avoid the smell penetrating to my nose. Once again the chief guide assembled us for our final instructions before starting the adventurous journey. I wasn’t listening clearly to his instruction; my mind was busy of foreseeing of what would happen down there. The only instructions I was able to record was “Whenever there’s a high current, you have to float with your legs forward and your face up. If you bump into a rock, try to hold the rocks with your feet. Never touch or hold the rocks with your hands.” Recording those instructions into my memory, my adventurous spirit was becoming to shrink. I turned out to be a COWARD. Yes, I started trembling even though I hadn’t even tried it.

Tracking down the mountain

the smelly cave

One by one was instructed to dive into the river. I mustered my courage to follow my friends who had dived first. We had to swim toward the right edge of the river, waiting for the next instruction, and there was no strong current yet. Swim, swim, and swim, letting our body to float. It was truly enjoyable until we reached our first strong current. OH MY GULAI! I asked the instructor, “How can we pass this strong current?” He answered, “Of course, with your body.” I didn’t realize it was the silliest question ever. Yes, Debby, this is why it’s called BODY RAFTING– use your body!
Everyone seemed so venturesome; they did pass the strong current with their victory shouts. While me? Shrinking to death!

Ready for the torture

We were in the river for about 3 to 4 hours, passing those strong, unstoppable currents. My butts, my legs, my elbows bumped into rocks for several times. I shouted in my heart, “God, will I end my life in this river?” Insane, silly scenarios happened in my mind, thinking of what would happen next. Anyway, we had to endure the pain because there was no way of drawing back. The only way to end this torture was to reach the finish ‘line’.

The evil Currents

In spite of the torture I had to go through, I was able to witness God’s profound creation: the glistening rocky side of the mountain in which the native called it ‘green canyon’, the incredible hanging rock leaves, the drizzling water that springs out from the rock, and many other wonderful creations that I captured with the camera of my eyes. I secured them in my memory. All I can say is God is truly PROFOUND.

Incredibly Profound

The wonder of World












Indeed, it was truly a victory as we all reached the final ‘line’. A small boat came to pick us up to take us back to the center. On the boat, everyone competed to share each of his/her experiences in wading those strong currents. Laughter, shouts, chuckles were mixed into one word called BLESSING. Yes, we are blessed to be able to reach the final journey. I wonder how will it be when we end our journey on earth? I guess, it is beyond my finite mind!

The end of torture

Notes: Guha Bau is located in Cijulang River, West Java