13 August CFC Songs

PSALM 95

1. Refrain: 2. 3. G D C G

Come let us sing for the joy of the Lord

C Am G Am7 - D

Let us shout to the rock of salvation

G D C G

Let us come before Him giving thanks

C Am7 D Am7 - D

And extol Him with music and song (Refrain)

G C D G C D B7 C D G F#m Em

Alle - lu - ia, Alle - lu - ia! Hope in God O my soul

C D G

In Him your joy will be full

G D

For the Lord is the great God

C G

And the King above kings

C Am7 G Am7 - D

In His hands are the depths of the earth

G D C G

The mountains are His and the sea is His

C Am7 D Am7 - D

He formed all living things (Refrain)

G D C G

Come let us bow down and worship Him

C Am7 G Am7 - D

Let us kneel before the Lord our maker

G D C G

For He is our God and His people are we

C Am7 D Am7 - D

The flock under His care (Refrain)

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

HE HAS COVERED HIMSELF IN GLORY

Refrain:

Am G Am

Let us sing to the Lord

F G Am

He has covered Himself in glory

Am G Am

Let us sing to the Lord

F G Am

He has covered Himself in praise

(Repeat)

Verse 1:

Am F

I will sing to the Lord,

G Am

He is gloriously triumphant

F

Rider, horse and chariots has

G Am

He hurled into the sea

F D Esus E

The strength of our enemies is shattered

(Refrain)

Verse 2:

Am F

A man of war is the Lord,

G Am

and the Lord is His name

F

The might of Pharaoh’s chariots

G Am

Has sunk to the depths like stone

G

By your right hand O Lord,

F D

magnificent in power

Am G

By your right hand O Lord

strength of our enemies is shattered

(Refrain)

Verse 3:

Am F

The people You choose You redeemed

G Am

And planted them on Your holy mountain

F

The place where you made your seat

G Am

The dwelling place of our God

G F D

From His sanctuary, established by His hand

Am G

Seated in glory,

F D Esus E

the Lord shall reign forever and ever (Refrain)

Coda:

G

My strength and my courage

F D

is the Lord, my savior

Am G F D

He is my God and the God of my fathers,

Esus E

I exalt Him

F G Am

He has covered Himself in glory

F G Am

He has covered Himself in praise (repeat)

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

ONLY BY GRACE

C Am

Only by grace can we enter

Dm7 G G7

Only by grace can we stand

C Am

Not by our human endeavor

Dm7 G

But by the blood of the Lamb

Em7 Am7

Into Your presence You call us

F G

You call us to come

C Am7

Into Your presence You draw us

Dm7 G C

And now by Your grace we come

Dm7 G C

Now by Your grace we come

Am G F

Lord, if You marked our transgressions

G C Bm7 E7

Who would stand

Am G F

Thanks to Your grace we are cleansed

G Am Dm E

by the blood of the Lamb

Am G F

Lord, if You marked our transgressions

G C Bm7 E7

Who would stand

Am G F

Thanks to Your grace we are cleansed

G Am Gsus G

by the blood of the Lamb

Nostalgia: “What Today’s Generation Will Never Experience”

by Terence Mordeno Grana

My Personal Anecdote

This is a true story. One I lived—and one I wish the younger generation could still experience.

Back in my elementary school days, the moment classes were suspended, we wouldn’t think twice—we’d run straight to the lake or sea, a nearby stream, or any water we could swim in. If it rained, that was even better. We’d bathe in the downpour outside our house, or stand under the edge of the roof where water gushed down like a waterfall. Sometimes, we’d huddle under the sandayong just to soak in the rain with laughter.

We were poor, but we were happy. Our neighborhood was like one big family. Back then, if you had a refrigerator, a black and white television (with a crooked antenna that needed constant adjustment), or a stereo that played vinyl records—you were already considered well-off.

If you ran out of matches, you’d borrow fire from a neighbor. Just bring a bit of coconut husk and that’s it. 

The elderly folks? They kept themselves entertained by listening to radio dramas like “Handumanan sa Usa ka Awit,” “Kaloy and His Flying Saucer,” “Manok ni San Pedro,” and “Diego Salvador.” We’d even place our big radio batteries under the sun, believing the heat would somehow recharge them so the sound would come out louder. Funny, but it worked for us.

In our place, we called almost everyone Auntie, Ate, Nanay, Tita, Tiyo, Tay, Nong, Nang, even if we weren’t related. We roamed the streets eating bayabas, balingbing, caimito, tambis, and if there were no ripe fruits, we’d settle for udlot sa bayabas—the young shoots. We’d ask neighbors for salt to go with our freshly picked mangga or santol. 

We’d come home covered in dirt and amorseco seeds stuck to our clothes, our skin kissed by the sun and our hearts full of adventure.

There were no fast food chains like McDonald’s, Mang Inasal, or Jollibee yet. We ate what our parents cooked—ginisang tangkong, pako, kapayas, ginataang nangka, sinugbang isda, tinolang manok bisaya, linusak na saging. A homemade ice candy was the ultimate treat—and if we were lucky, we could sell them for 50 centavos each.

Playtime only began after chores were done. We played sungka, tubig-tubig, dakop-dakop, ungoy-ungoy sa baraha, bato-lata, step in-step out, tumba-lata, jackstones, takyan, patintero, luksong tinik, jolen, tansan, taguan, syatong, dampa, balay-balay, tsinelasay, Chinese garter, barahaay, tabanog, and tuod-tuodaround the backyard. We never ran out of games to play, or stories to imagine.

There was no bottled water. We drank from banga, storing water that stayed cool even in the midday heat. We filled baril for bathing and washing clothes. After a game under the sun, we’d share one bottle of Royal Tru-Orange or Coke, wiping the mouth of the bottle with our dirty sleeves—never thinking twice about hygiene. That was trust and innocence.

If we wanted to watch television, we’d go house-hopping—manumbalay—to the few neighbors who had a set. Everyone, especially us kids, would sit on the floor and huddle together. The TV was black and white, of course, and we’d guess the colors of the commercials. The first one to guess right? A flick on the ear from the others—half punishment, half reward. We laughed endlessly.

There were no mobile phones. No gadgets. And no fear of being exposed to the world. If there was a fight, it ended with a fistfight and that was it. Kids didn’t carry weapons, nor were we afraid of anyone shaming us online. The sun was our curfew. Once it started to get dark—around 6PM—we ran home. If we pretended not to hear our names being called, we were guaranteed to meet the bakus or a guava twig!

School was sacred. It didn’t matter if we had no allowance; what mattered was we could study. Teachers hit us with rulers or chalk when we failed a quiz—but it was all for discipline. We watched our mouths around elders, or risk getting slapped, scolded, or pinched on the lips!

These were real things. Real moments. Things that no longer exist today. All we have now are memories… throwbacks on social media… echoes of a simpler time.

But oh, what a time it was.

And yes, there is a forever—because these memories will always live in me.

Best experience ever.

                        -oOo-