Remembering You at the Family Camp-April 2, 2026

 Few hours from now, we will begin our family camp. It is meant to be a time of joy, reflection, and renewed faith but this year, it carries a quiet ache in our hearts. This will be the first of many family camps without our beloved Aljon.

In moments like this, his absence feels louder than any music, deeper than any silence. We can almost see him still moving around, helping with the setup, checking the sound system, offering his willing hands wherever they were needed. Aljon was never one to stay still when there was work to be done for God.

We remember how he would share his testimony with sincerity and fire, how he spoke of God’s faithfulness, how Christ changed his life, and how he held on to that hope no matter what. Those words, those moments, they remain with us… alive in our memories, and now, even more meaningful.

We also remember those recent, painful days—when we were gathered in the church, praying and holding on to hope, while he was at the hospital fighting his battle. Ate May, with a heart full of faith, reached out and encouraged the brethren to continue supporting and praying, because we all believed—deeply believed—that Aljon would still be with us in this year's family camp. We held on to that hope together. But God’s plans are always beyond what we can fully understand—unfathomable, yet never without purpose.

And beyond the duties, we remember the simple, beautiful things—his laughter on the court, whether it was basketball or volleyball, the quiet focus as he played chess, the gentle strum of his guitar, or even just the warmth of his handshake. In those ordinary moments, he gave extraordinary joy. 😭

Today, we grieve because we loved. And we love because God allowed us to share life with him, even for a while. Though our hearts are hurting, we hold on to hope—the kind of hope he himself believed in. A hope that one day, in God’s perfect time, we will meet again.

As we begin this camp, we carry Aljon with us...not in presence, but in spirit, in memory, and in faith. And perhaps, in the quiet corners of our hearts, we will hear echoes of his laughter, feel the strength of his testimony, and be reminded to live the kind of life that honors God… just like he did.

We miss you deeply Aljon. But we press on with tears, with faith, and with hope.