𝘉𝘺 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘚𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯
Magpapasko na naman. Maraming Christmas parties ang tapos na, at pauwi na ang mga “main characters” sa kani kanilang mga probinsya.
Tulad ng marami, Nasa probinsya rin ako ngayon. And like many who return home, I am known less by my own name and more by my relationships. Around here, I am often introduced as “Anak ni Medeng” or “ Anak ni Ma’am Susan.” My identity, at least in this place, is borrowed—rooted in the names of my parents rather than my own.
For a long time, this felt like the absence of an identity. Among my siblings, it even became a joke na wala kameng sariling identity sa lugar na ito. But over time, I began to see it differently. Being called by my parents’ names was not erasure—it was inheritance. It meant I was recognized as belonging to people whose lives had already earned trust and respect.
In that sense, identity is not always about standing alone. Sometimes, it is about being known through relationship.
I remember a teacher in high school who consistently referred to her students as “children of God.” Back then, the phrase felt empty, even awkward. But maturity brings clarity. To be called a child of God is not a poetic label—it is a declaration of belonging. It is to be named by relationship, not by achievement.
This is what Christmas reveals.
In the coming of Christ, we are given a name we did not earn but received. Through Him, our sonship to the Father is made real and legitimate. We are known, not primarily for what we have done, but for whom we belong to.
Just as I am called the son of Medeng and Ma’am Susan, I am, more deeply and eternally, called a child of God.
And that is an identity worth coming home to.
#GOTO #GodOfTheOrdinary
#WFALoveConnects
