temperament sentiment(s)

WARNING: This post does not intend to offend anyone, particularly cholerics.

What is a Choleric?

A choleric is self-sufficient, independent, opinionated, hence, decisive. He DOES NOT vacillate under pressure of what others think. He is a born leader.

The choleric’s emotional nature is the least developed part of his temperament. He does not sympathize easily with others, nor does he naturally show or express compassion. He is SO optimistic, rarely anticipating failure.

(taken from Spirit-Controlled Temperament by Tim LaHaye)

Why am I being mistaken for a choleric? Is it because in some aspects, I am sure of my decisions? To be really honest, I cannot easily make decisions on my own. Unlike the Choleric, I am usually dependent on other people – on what they think, and on what they want. I still have this tendency to be egotistical, as what Sanguines are, and self-centered, as what Melancholies are, but definitely not self-sufficient. As what is obvious about my personality, I am a people-person. I enjoy company. I love people. I deal with them well … which is why I am Sanguine in the first place.

Emotional is what a choleric is least, which is contradicting to my Melancholy side. Okay, perhaps, cholerics can become emotional and all, but most of them I know rarely do get emotional. Expressing compassion may be a challenge for them, which is definitely not how I am.

SO optimistic? Me? C’mon. That’s one of the Sanguine’s good sides I haven’t acquired. It’s the Melancholy’s pessimism I have in me. Lately, though, I am not that pessimistic, and that’s because I grew spiritually, not because I became choleric.

I have to admit, I have choleric tendencies – like being bossy, demanding, voicing out what I think (which is something a SanMel may not surprisingly do). But this happens to only one person. However, because of God’s dealings with me, things may change when that person comes back from vacation. No, wait – things WILL change. I’mgoingtostopnowbeforeitalkofsomethingelseotherthanwhatiamsupposetobetalkingabouthere.

Also, is it because most of my friends are phlegmatic? That they seem to be under my power or something? And I am loud because of my Sanguine side, not because I am choleric.

Anyway … the important thing is, whatever our temperament may be, it is Spirit-controlled. This is the point of knowing it, actually – helping others and yourself understand others and yourself. Identifying your temperament helps you identify your strengths and weaknesses objectively, which will then enable us to “look to the Holy Spirit for his filling – to become the kind of person God wants [us] to be.” (LaHaye, 1994)

Let me get a portion from the book, which explains what a Spirit-filled temperament really is.

“The Holy Spirit-filled temperament does not have weaknesses; instead it has nine all-encompassing strengths. This is God’s resource for the human weaknesses that result from the Fall in the Garden of Eden.

Anyone filled with the Holy Spirit, whether Sanguine, Choleric, Melancholy, or Phlegmatic, is going to manifest these nine spiritual characteristics---called the ‘fruit of the Spirit’ in Galatians 5:22. Spirit-filled Christians will have their own natural strengths, maintaining their individuality, but they will not be dominated by their natural weaknesses. The nine characteristics of the Spirit can transform those weaknesses.”

These nine characteristics are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness and self-control (Galatians 5:22).

I think everyone has a bit of every temperament. Jet, having a bit of the choleric temperament, doesn’t make her a choleric. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, it’s just that she just doesn’t agree with the idea. I am not choleric … I think. Yes, I think I am not. I think. No, I am not choleric.

I am on my way to a Spirit-filled Temperament, with prayers and knowledge of my Savior. This is my goal … it should be, of everyone. I admit, though, that it may take a long while before I reach this destination. Then again, with prayers and strength from Christ, I can be, in His time.

We are born with our temperaments. And what God wants us to be is to be effective Christians, living above all of our weaknesses (like anger, fear, depression, selfishness, worry, etc.).

I am proud to say I am a Sanguine-Melancholy, on the road to becoming Spirit-filled. To God be the glory!

P.S: The fact that I keep on confirming from people, whether I am a choleric or not, I think, is reason enough for me to say that I’m not choleric. :)

Mother's Day Impasse

Tell me. How am I supposed to be feeling, now that it's mother's day?

Lonely: This is my first Mother's Day away from my family. I miss everyone at home, especially my mom. I wish I could've been there to celebrate it with them, and to be just beside her in person ... let her know how much she means to me, and how I'm sorry for all the stupid things I may have done in the past. My mom is the total package. She's a mom, a sister, a friend, a teacher, a counselor, a cooking instructor all wrapped in one. I cannot be mushy like this around her.

Angry: N/A

Scared: N/A

Crazy: Can you feel crazy? In that case, I always do.

Happy: This is my first Mother's Day away from my family. I miss everyone at home, especially my mom. I know I could've been there to celebrate this special day with them, but hey, there seems to be a way for everything. I can call her, make her an e-card, text her, chat with her at ym, email her, make her a friendster comment. These may not seem enough, compared to being in person with her ... but I guess it doesn't have to be Mother's Day for me to tell her I love her and how much she means to me. My mom is the total package. She's a mom, a sister, a friend, a teacher, a counselor, a cooking instructor all wrapped in one. And I'm proud of her! They're happy I'm here, so why shouldn't I be? I guess this should be another reason why I should give my best in my studies, huh.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Yeah, yeah. The answer is obvious. Although, of course, I still feel bad I can't be present at home. Even my subconscious reminded me how much I wanted to be home now. I woke up at around 6am, added a few things on my formal report on organic chemistry, and felt the need for sleep again after an hour. Then... I was in deep slumber for a couple more hours and...

I was in the airport with a few people. We were all going home to Bacolod for Mother's Day. Our flight was delayed because the PAL crew bullied the passengers. I can't be really specific about it. I was only told so. Bad PAL. Well, anyway, I called my mom to tell her of the flight delay.

Jet: Mom, na-delay flight ko
Mom: What?
Jet: Delayed flight ko.
Mom: Mapuli ka??? (You're coming home???)

It was only until that freaked-out line my mom gave did I realize I was not supposed to go home, realistically considering our class reporting and lab reports due Monday, and my exam on Tuesday. Weird.

Hmmm... I can already imagine. Our house must be smelling of vanilla, and that lemony filling, and that choco frosting for her chocolate cake. Or of melted cheese and crumbs and eggs being deep fried with the chicken for her cordon bleu (which I know she'll probably make if I was there, assuming all resources are available). Or of onions and garlic being sauteed for her fresh tomato sauce, of butter and milk for her mouth-watering white sauce - which she will mix and spread on her well-cooked spaghetti noddles.

This is making me hungry.

I love my mom! I want to tell the whole world :) Hmmm ... On second thought, maybe I can. Or, didn't I just do it?

Hi. Whoever you are. I want you to know I love my mom. Tell your friends, too.
*shake head*
This is going to freak everyone out.

Oh. Maybe this is a better idea:

Make a Smilebox free ecard

Happy Mother's Day Mom! You're the best-est. Rock on. ^^v

so it begins...

Part 1: DECISIONS

Waking up in the morning is a decision everyone makes everyday. Shall I get up? Shall I sleep some more? Shall I stare into nothingness?

The battle between starting the day and extending the night was cut short as the big truck outside the house beeped as it backed up. Beep… beep… beep… The sound still painlessly stabs my chest. Childhood memories last longer than we think, I reminded myself.

I rolled to my other side, still clinging to the Venetian red cotton pillow she gave me on my sixth birthday… or was it the seventh? Ages. She always knew what I want – which things cheer me up… which ones don’t. Memories of her make me feel younger, bringing me back to the innocent past. It’s like a portal to a chasm in my mind – the one that has always been there and will forever just be. Hm. It still has her cucumber-melon scent on it. She still has that smile on her face. Pure innocence.

I was always the sarcastic one. Judgmental and sarcastic. I remember the time when I impatiently rolled my eyes as she cheerfully gave compliments to a classmate with – so I thought – ridiculous fashion sense. Looking back, she was right. Emily’s checkered vest went pretty well with her sunny yellow collared plain blouse that perfectly matched her green retro pants. You know… those pants that fit her bottoms tightly and gradually loosen up as they reach the ankles. Her red flashy earrings complemented her pants and matched her red heeled strappy sandals. It was a retro look… not highly appreciated by everyone in my generation but quite cool. Or is it?

Nevertheless, I know she was right. She was right again. She always was…

Everybody loved her back in high school. She was always the center of attention, the class clown, the energetic kid. She was always game for anything. Again, everybody loved her – girls, guys, even the teachers and staff members in school. Being the stereotypical "opposite" friend, I was the artistic one. I preferred writing down my thoughts, rather than speaking them out the way she does. I made sure I do not get any attention while she totally does the other way around. I carefully chose who my acquaintances were…and they were only limited to a few number – unlike her, she knew almost everyone in school.

The greatest difference of them all was that she enjoyed God. She loved Him, and adored Him. And I did not – much.

I remember the times when she used to constantly invite me to fellowships and to their worship services. Ever since she attended that camp, she said it had changed her life. Whatever that means, I know I don’t need to change my life. I believe in God. What’s the difference? He loves me – sufficient enough for me to live my life. I found it pointless, why she kept on convincing me to shift to her religion, even if she constantly denied that suspected motive.

Was I too closed-minded? Should have I tried accompanying her with these “fellowships” and “services” because she enjoyed being in them? Did I give her a hard time? Perhaps I did. I guess it wouldn’t have hurt if I tried listening to her….

Anyway, what’s the difference? Since she’s been gone, my life had an irregular time signature with a single tone in its chorus. No climax, no verses, no bridges, no refrains. Just the monotonous chorus, over and over again. Does this mean I need her God?

Oh well. Another dramatic start of a brand new day. If she were here, she would’ve said a prayer. Yeah…that would have been the first thing she had done. Talk to her Lord. Thank You, O Lord, for another day. May this day make me happy. Keep me safe from harm. May I do good things for others. May I look pretty today. Amen. Not bad. I can actually pray like them Christians…oh, which of course is something I definitely am.

Finally making a decision, I then walked out from under my crumpled white sheets. I stood lazily beside my bed, staring at the sheets. Hm. White. Innocence. I then smiled. It would be nice to visit her. It’s been almost a year – one ... long ... excruciating year…. I wonder how she is. Joyful, surely. Still full of life and energy. I stretched out my limbs, gave out a deep yawn and sighed. Good job. I grinned, proud of myself for making another decision before starting the day.

I’m visiting Debbie tomorrow.