Romancing with God
Three years before my dad passed away, I experienced the most touching bond between a daughter and a father. I’m sure that he is unaware of it. It happens every 4 or 5 am in the morning. I would wake up because I would hear someone from downstairs praying, singing and crying like a child. I’m a very light sleeper so even if I am entitled to hoard some sleep I still end up waking up at the slightest sound or inconvenience. So at this time, I would slowly go down the stairs to get something to drink and I would see my dad with his bible on the table and him standing up with hands held high worshipping God. I am accustomed with this kind of environment. The presence of God sometimes would be so strong that whenever we would gather in the living room (my dad, mom, Paul Amerigo, Paul Jehu, Liza and Marco) we would sing for 3 hours. Marco would play the keyboards and I would lead the worship. We would dance, jump, clap, bow down--name it we have done it but we were having a ball. My mom woul