No-movement Sundays No. 3

Car wet from last night's rain. Roads empty. Fog on the bridge connecting Marbel to Tupi, but visibility was good. Rolled down my windows twice, on the way to the hospital—first, in Polomolok and then in Gensan. Passed through without fanfare. Standard phrase I say is "Maayong aga, Sir. Doktor ako, may pasyente lang nga bisitahon." Don't care much for a putting up a sign ("Medical Frontliner") on the car window; some colleagues do. Military men saluted and wished me well, almost apologetically, for hindering my passage. "Pasensya na, Dok," they said. Overheard one young soldier said, "Daw kabáta pa sa iya ba." Didn't bother telling him I'm 34. On the way back home, noted four dogs playing in the middle of the road when I passed by Palkan. Almost mistook a brown dog for a gigantic poop, or a pile of cardboard. Sleeping on the outer lane as I passed through Judge Alba Street, it seemed satisfied with my driving. Dogs are taking over the roads when humans aren't around.

A picture of peace

Been working on my assignment for the Old Testament survey class taught by Pastor Allan Luciano of TMAI. This beautiful passage from Dr. Thomas Constable's commentary on Amos struck me. 

If cruelty to other nations makes God angry, it is because His heart is set on kindness. If oppression stirs up His wrath, it is because He desires people to live in peace. If violations of human rights call down His judgment, it is because He longs that people experience happiness and well-being. His sovereign government always moves toward the best conditions for humanity, and He resists what disrupts those conditions. Amos closes with a picture of the world over that God desires and will bring to pass eventually. It is a picture of peace.

Diluted and beautiful

I'll fill the converter with distilled water for the meantime.