Mirrors of God

Means to a Good and Happy Life

2011-07-16T10:15:00.003-05:00

Strive for a growing personal relationship with God.
Read more books and watch less television.
Spend time doing things with people that matter in your life.
Live way below your means.
Consume less.
Spend less energy trying to acquire things.
Exercise regularly.
Eat healthy and in moderation.
Spend time, energy, and resources for a good cause.
Help those who are less fortunate than you are.

My Dad, The Driver

2008-06-07T22:01:00.013-05:00

Among the many talents my father have, one that I admire the most is his driving skill. He used to work as a field engineer for Texaco Philippines. This entailed a lot of driving. He would often go to remote parts of the country.

Driving in the Philippines can be hard to imagine for people used to multi-lane interstate highways. Even NASCAR drivers may have a hard time navigating through the streets of Manila. When people ask me about the driving conditions in this city of 14 million people, I usually ask them to imagine Manhattan driving and then imagine it being fifty times crazier. Roads between cities can often be treacherous and a large number of these can be unpaved. One can be driving at 60 mph and suddenly encounter a huge pothole, or a heard of cows for that matter.

Yet despite all the dangers of driving in the Philippines, I had always felt safe when my dad was behind the wheel. He was skillful enough to insulate me from the dangers of the road. In fact, at a time when there were no Nintendo DS or in-car DVD players, my fondest memories were in the back seat of a beat-up Mitsubishi Lancer.

In addition his superior driving skills, my dad had an unbelievable sense of direction. I have no memory of ever getting lost when he was the one driving. On the other hand, I have been living in rural Tennessee for almost three years and I still have to use my GPS once in a while.

Melody and I are on the verge of making several big decisions. My obsessive-compulsive side wants to be in control of everything and get a handle of every little detail. It is our lives that we are talking about and it just makes sense that we determine our future, right?

When I do pray about these things, I am led to imagine that I am again in the passenger seat of our beat-up Lancer. But this time, it is not my earthly father who is driving but my heavenly one. I then sense that I need to let go and let him do the driving.

It is easier to imagine being on the passenger seat and letting the driver decide on the destination if it is just a matter of having Mexican or Italian for lunch. I usually do well with either--I can order a burrito or lasagna.

But letting someone else drive me to life's bigger destinations? That's a harder one.

I then remember that my heavenly father is infinitely superior to my own father as far as navigating through life. He not only knows every twist and turn, he made them. Knowing this, I should learn to relax and just enjoy the ride.

Enjoy Your Walk with Jesus

2007-11-27T21:41:00.000-06:00

We have a tradition at work of giving people a gift for their birthday. It can be something as simple as a book. Or if you own the company, something a little bit more significant. Like the 5195-piece Millennium Falcon Lego set.

This collector's item is the biggest Lego ever made. It is thirty-three inches long and twenty-two inches wide! It even comes with minifigures of Han Solo, Chewbacca, and the rest of the Star Wars gang.

I've never met a grown-up more enthusiastic about Legos than Ty Webb. I should have suspected this when I saw the book shelf in his office. It contained more Legos than books!

A few weeks before his birthday the office manager passed a hat around asking everyone to chip in for Ty's gift. We ordered the Millennium Falcon but learned that it would not be shipped until several months after Ty's birthday. We had to improvise and give Ty a picture of the gift with a promissory note saying a man in brown UPS uniform would be ringing his doorbell in the not-so-distant future with a box containing the toy of his dreams.

Soon enough, Ty got his Millennium Falcon. He immediately realized how much 5195 pieces of Lego were. Luckily, the set came with a detailed manual of how to assemble Han Solo's ship. He and his children started working on it right away.

I bumped into Ty this morning and asked him how his Lego project was going. He told me it was around 50% finished. This was surprising since he got the set more than a month ago. I wanted him to finish assembling it. I wanted to see what the "biggest Lego ever made" looked like.

I suddenly realized that Ty, in his wisdom, may be taking his time assembling the set. Isn't this the most enjoyable part of owning a Lego anyway? Or better yet, isn't building the set the point of owning a Lego?

This got me thinking about my walk with the Lord. If I were the bumper-sticker type of person, I would have one that said: "Lord give me patience and give it to me now!"

Being the goal-oriented person that I am, I oftentimes wish I was more mature, wiser or stronger. I imagine myself only being a pistol-wielding private in God's army when I could be a major in charge of the Gatling gun.

During these times, the Lord leads me to imagine that my faith is like a plant that seems to take forever to grow but is growing nonetheless. Still I would then tell him to use a spiritual version of Miracle-Gro if he could.

But he would then remind me that it matters little where I am in my walk with Him. What matters more is that I am walking with Him.

Faithful In The Little Things

2006-11-26T08:54:00.000-06:00

Less than a month ago, I put together a little venture for the urban poor mothers of the He Cares Foundation - a kitchen cooperative to engage in the business of cooking and distributing packed lunches, merienda, and dinner (the call centers!) to offices and other establishments in the city. From a business point of view, the market is huge and the potential is immense; goodness knows that my own office building alone demands more than what is being supplied. But this enterprise is rooted in something more important than that: the empowerment of these women to become not just recipients of God's grace and blessings but channels of these blessings themselves. Which is exactly the essence of He Cares' mission.

The old proverb "Give a man a fish, you have fed him for today; teach a man to fish; and you have fed him for a lifetime" applies particularly to the HCF Mothers' Kitchen Coop, and to other such HCF cooperatives I'd like to establish in the near future. Our counterpart of acting for ourselves upon God's providence aside from merely asking is essentially scriptural: Matthew 7:7 does not end with "Ask and it will be given to you," although it is surprising that many believers (myself previously included) seem to remember otherwise. The rest of the verse reads (to 7:8), "seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened." The Bible is replete with references on how His people powerfully went into action upon His grace and received miracles upon miracles. Moses leading Israel out of Egypt. Rahab lowering down Joshua's spies, and the red cord out her window. The widow giving her last meal to Elijah. The diseased Roman centurion who bathed in the river Jordan. The faithful friends who broke through the roof to lower a paralytic down to where the Lord was. The hemorraging woman who touched His cloak...I could go on and on. The point is, they not only asked; they acted, and they received.

God has given us talent, resources, skills, intelligence, and the most wonderful gift of free will, all of which are wasted when we sit back on our heels and expect Him to do all the work. And then, more often than not, when our prayers are "not being answered," we tend to blame Him or otherwise justify our circumstances by saying "He said 'no.'" Our inaction, which invariably results in resignation and cynicism, has absolutely no place in the Good News of our salvation; otherwise, we would never be celebrating the ebullience of Easter morning.

Back to "my" mothers. Over the last two and a half years, I've seen them receive so many of His blessings, and still revert to being resigned and cynical. I've preached the Gospel to them, shared how God has been acting in my life and in the life of others, and frequently reminded them how good and faithful He is. But I never quite witnessed the rapt expressions on their faces as when I first told them, only four weeks ago, that God's providence becomes truly real when they act upon it in their own lives. When they actually become responsible and accountable for everything He has given them - and how, acting upon those gifts, that can translate to unimaginable blessings in their lives, and the lives of those around them. That they can actually be greater than what they presently make themselves out to be, and that God is glorified even more in achieving that greatness.

From six mothers on that first day, the coop swelled to 20 seven days later. Now they even want to bring their husbands in. I can't describe the impact of their transformation - from crippling despair wrought by poverty to hope - had on me. It was just a dream, an inspiration; but with faith in God's power, we remain anchored on the promise that in Him, "all things are possible!" (Matthew 19:26). Through His grace and providence, things are now moving swiftly to make the dream a reality. And the women are now truly empowered: no longer are they mere beneficiaries of "hand-outs," but they are actually taking active part in how they want their lives to become. Since the enterprise is a cooperative, they, under the guidance and auspices of the Foundation, are ultimately responsible for the operations and profit of their work. How small or how big they can make their profits grow, and how they will lift their neighbors from envy to contribution and transformation is entirely up to them. And it's simply miraculous how God's power is working in them, with this newfound hope. They are actually acting, instead of always just asking. Praise be to God!

Today's penultimate meeting of commitment before we begin full operations on the first week of December was empowering, not just for them, but for myself. As I advised them on business and money matters, particularly in handling their personal finances (who would have known I had that in me; thank you Lord for the continuing surprises!), He inspired me to draw upon His word. "The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones; and the person who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones. (Luke 16:10)" In the vernacular, Kapag pinagkatiwalaan ka sa maliit na bagay, maaasahan ka sa mas malaki. A striking verse that applies not only to how one controls one's money, resources, and business, but also to everything in life that comes from the Creator. Skills, talents, relationships...everything that is entrusted to us by Him. Mindblowing - I got much out of that just by speaking it. And so did they.

It definitely was no coincidence that one of the mothers informed me that Luke 16: 1-10, was today's (more accurately, yesterday's) Gospel - and I was not aware of it (my story of not having time lately to go through my daily Mass readings). And to put God's word into action through this transformative Kitchen Cooperative, now a little thing, and through faithfulness, will be something really big, is indeed a blessing, and a privilege. All glory belongs to Him. :-)

Autumn Blossoms

2006-10-08T22:27:00.000-05:00

It's time for autumn! Rejoice! If you are facing a drought in your life just remember that the blazing heat of summer is always followed by the beatiful blossoms of autumn.

Letting Go

2006-06-11T20:47:00.000-05:00

If haven't told you yet, let me tell you now.

I'm a computer geek.

When I was younger, I used to carry 10-pound books and stared at the computer screen for hours on end. You see, I was trying to type hundreds of lines of computer code to make the words "Hello World!" appear on the computer monitor. When I conversed with my best friend, we talked about things like Linux, firewalls, or Beta software. When I was once trying to court someone, I even created a flowchart of how our conversation might go. As a teenager, I read PC World instead of Car and Driver Magazine.

I've toned down a bit lately. I don't carry books anymore and I don't do any type of computer programming. I still wear eyeglasses. But instead of wearing thick, black, plastic spectacles I don a stylish, magnesium-framed, rimless eyeglass.

Regardless, I still do what most computer geeks do--I spend a lot of time in front of the computer.

Earlier tonight, I was trying to do some geeky stuff on my computer. I won't try to bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that I was trying to fix an external USB audio device by reformatting it and reinstalling its firmware but ended up wiping out my external hard drive's master boot record and deleting the entire My Documents folder.

If you understood what I've just said then you probably are as geeky as I am. But what actually happened was this-- in a matter of 30 seconds, I've accidentally erased half a decade's worth of data and pictures from my computer and also destroyed the backup. Unbelievable!

I was so shocked by what had transpired that I stared blankly at the computer monitor and sobbed.

The next day, I regained my composure and found a way to recover my data. But the process took so long that I decided to only recover the files that I absolutely needed.

I then realized something. I neither needed nor missed most of the computer files that were deleted! All throughout the years, I've held on to all sorts of digital junk. I even had the draft of my B.S. Biology thesis from 10 years ago. Why should I now care about how some algae reacts to salt?

It gets worse. I learned that most of the files that were accidentally erased were gibberish and I had no idea why I kept them in my computer.

As I was trying to save what really matters, I suddenly realized something.

I am the same way with my spiritual life.

A lot of times, I hold on to so many baggage and complicate my life with so many unnecessary things that it's so hard to be happy and free.

Lately, a lot of people disappointed me by not living up to my expectations of them. Time has since passed but I was still holding on to a lot of anger and frustration. Because of the lesson I learned from my computer disaster, I learned to let go. Because of this, I found myself happier and more relaxed.

Things are also well with my computer, by the way. Since I've erased all the unneeded files, it has been running faster. It's amazing how even a machine can benefit from letting go.

Lost and Found

2006-05-23T10:45:00.000-05:00

I lost my camera today. My sexy little red Olympus Stylus Verve that fits into the palm of your hand, and into a small-ish evening bag – which is why I’ve always mistrusted bags that can hold no more than a lipstick and loose change. The formality of a friend’s wedding this afternoon constrained me to trade in my usual capacious bag that can hold my wallet, makeup, cell phones, planner/writing notebook, and still have space enough for a small child. And, in the attempt to stuff the basic essentials – car keys, one phone, compact, wedding weeping tissue - into that silly little frou-frou accessory and to get whatever out when needed, I inevitably lost my camera, which had earlier managed to fit in so nicely.

What’s worse, I discovered that I’d lost it a good deal later, at the reception. We’d just gotten there after wading through rush hour Manila traffic, and hardly had I warmed my seat when I decided to take a photo of the beautiful skies above the breakwater, only to find - tadah – no camera. Because of the ruckus after the wedding and the distraction of chismis with friends while answering phone calls and trying to pay the parking lot attendant, not to mention the absentmindedness of old age, I had no clue where I’d put it. I took one photo right before the wedding actually started (goes to show how trigger happy I am, i.e., photo-lazy) and then got too busy trying not to smudge my mascara when Ets walked up the aisle and making the Tagalog scripture reading intelligible, to take any more. And so, when I finally got the inspiration to take a picture, I found I didn’t have anything to take it with.

So I turned my messy car upside down, thinking that I’d taken the camera out and dropped it somewhere. But the only thing I discovered was the urgent necessity to clean my car *surprise, surprise.* And thus I rushed back into the crawling chaos of Roxas Boulevard traffic, ruining my newly-repaired heels in the process, and scoured the Malate Church for my sexy Stylus Verve. No dice. And even if I had left it there…well, even in a church nothing is quite safe. There had to be some reason for all those signs warning parishioners not to leave belongings attended, as other people may think “it is the ‘answer’ to their prayers.” I turned my car upside down and rightside up again, interrogated the guards, and finally gave up the search. I’d lost my camera.

All this time I’d been praying to God and asking St. Anthony’s intercession. On the drive back, I even engaged in a little emotional “blackmail,” (a.k.a., lambing) reminding God that my camera was the only documentation device of He Cares, and if it remained lost, we’d no longer have anything to take photos with in the course of the mission. But all this time, I felt strangely calm, as if something in me believed that the camera wasn’t totally lost.

I got back to sympathetic friends, whose reactions ranged from “let’s keep praying to St. Anthony” to “may kapalit yan!” (from Jules, who once lost his – ouch – car). Oh well, I was starting to feel the loss now, rather gently. It was just a material thing, after all. And then a little more painfully, as other people started to take photos with their own cameras when I suddenly didn’t have one of my own. I started thinking about all the places I’d taken my sexy little camera, and how many people it had forever captured. How many other cameras it had put to shame, and how so many people had been so impressed at everything it could do and how cute it looked. And then I began to miss my sexy little red Olympus Stylus Verve, even if I hardly ever used it or maximized its potential or really loved it as much as others did.

Right there, I found out why I’d lost it. Truly, there is a reason for all things that happen in this world, and inasmuch as Romans 8:28 (look it up, won’t hurt to dig into Scripture once in a while) is one of the anchors of my life, there were at least three lessons that I learned from this tragic experience.

First, you’ll never know exactly how valuable something you have is, until you lose it. All of a sudden I appreciated what a great blessing my little digital camera was, despite the fact that I never really took good care of it (which is why I lost it in the first place!). And then you want it back, badly.

Second, the first lesson applies to life and relationships as well. Enough said.

Third, God and St. Anthony make one heavenly tag team! (Add my Lolo into the equation, I always ask him for his prayers in heaven whenever I lose something). In a last ditch effort, I took the opportunity to announce the tragic loss during the bouquet throw and appeal to whoever was holding my sweet sexy thang to return it, never expecting a response. But what do you know, at the end of the reception, one of the coordinators gave it back – apparently they’d found it before the wedding march, etc., etc. Praise God, thank St. Anthony! A friend of mine is suspicious of the timing, as they could have announced that they’d found a camera at the very start of the festivities and spared me the distress, but I’m thankful nonetheless. Whew.

And OK, one last realization from all these occurences: whenever you lose something of value and get it back, you really learn to appreciate it all the more. Indeed. My sexy little red Olympus Stylus Verve took a few more great photos before being returned to its roomy, spacious carrying case and zipped up, with my other dearest valuables, in my bigger day-to-day bag. No more frou-frou evening bags for it, thank you very much. And no more abuse or neglect. It has served me well, and boy, am I going to appreciate this little possession of mine properly this time around. This lesson applies to life and relationships as well.

Enough said.

Sunset

2006-05-01T21:35:00.000-05:00

The God who made the sun set will make it shine again. You can count on that!

Mistah

2006-05-01T18:57:00.000-05:00

A few days ago, a friend was talking about the fraternal bonds of those who share common experiences in the military, particularly going through years of training at the academy, and how these mistahs were "closer than brothers" (also the title of a book on the Philippine Military Academy by Alfred McCoy) willing to take - literally - a bullet for each other. The lengths that these men will go through to save a "brother's" life or reputation are a little difficult to comprehend, especially in this world where it's generally every man for himself. It would take someone like a frat man, like another friend we were speaking with, to understand this kind of self-abnegation: brod is thicker than water. As a sorority member myself, I am well-familiar with this kind of sentiment, albeit to a less bloodthirsty extent.

But as a Christian, I can totally relate to this idea of sacrifice for others that most of the world may find absurd, for I am a recipient of the most selfless love ever demonstrated on this earth. Indeed, "greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13) Might seem like a strange way to show love, but good golly, it's a surefire reason to make one want to repay the "favor," even if it takes one's whole life to do so. Even if it takes one's own life. And by His grace I'm gladly - praise God - still paying Him the favor back, and forward, and, by His grace! will continue to do so for the rest of my life here and at Home. No greater mistah than Him :-)

Extreme Makeover: Home Edition

2006-04-30T22:05:00.000-05:00

I made a resolution a few months ago to watch less television. I did allow myself to watch a handful of my favorite shows. On Mondays it's Keifer Sutherland's 24. On Sundays, it's ABC's Extereme Makeover: Home Edition.

Once in a while I watch Grey's Anatomy or House. I only do so when I really have nothing else to do. But there's no way in the world I'll miss Extereme Makeover.

Earlier tonight, I was reading a magazine when I instinctively I looked at the clock and learned that it was 6 o'clock. I rushed down and fumbled for the remote control. I was just in time. Ty Pennington was just about to ring the Py family's doorbell and change their lives forever.

You see Grandpa and Grandma Py had been through a lot. Their daughter recently died from breast cancer. A year before that, their daughter's husband died from a ruptured aneurysm. The deceased couple left their three children behind and Grandpa and Grandma Py decided to take care of them.

Their house was not exactly ready for three children. It was old and run down. Their oldest grandchild had to stay in a dirty and smelly basement. The old lead-based paint was crumbling and the floor had asbestos. This was however the least of their problems. How will a couple, on the last chapter of their lives, feed three young children and fend for them? Their luck has run out. Or so they thought.

Ty Pennington, with a crew of cameramen, rang the doorbell. With his megaphone, he hollered, "Good morning Py family" and proceeded to tell them that their house will receive a makeover. Grandpa and Grandma Py jumped for joy because they knew their luck had changed.

The Py family was sent off to a vacation while the ABC crew proceeded to demolish the house and create a new one from scratch.

I am always amazed at how people can build a house in just six days. And to think that they are not just building plain vanilla houses. The show is called Extreme Makeover for a reason.

Ty and his crew proceeded to build a grand house. The oldest grandson liked playing basketball so they created a special room for him. With a push of a button, his bed and cabinets disappear. His room transforms into a miniature basketball court and he can dribble away without any fear of breaking something. How crazy is that?

The Py family got a house that they never would have imagined in their wildest dreams. But there was more! The Drexel University's dean told them that all three grandchildren were awarded college scholarships. Finally, the builder told Grandpa and Grandma Py that they raised $150,000 to pay for their old mortgage.

I cried with Grandma Py. It was just so overwhelming to watch such a great act of generosity.

I just love watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. But more than enjoying the techinical details of building a house or getting lovely ideas from great designers, I love watching the show because it always reminds me of how blessed I am. No one has given me a free house and I do have to pay my own mortgage. But the show reminds me of how generous God is to me.

Like the Py family, I do not deserve God's countless blessings--I am imperfect and I often stumble. But day in and day out, God's blessings keep coming. And a lot of times, his generosity is overwhelming.

Not only does God bless me, he blesses me in a way that is, for lack of a better word, out of this world.

Please excuse me but do I have to go. It's been a long day and I have to rest. Tomorrow is Monday and my work awaits me. But I imagine being woken up by the doorbell. I will still be in my jammies when I answer the door. Waiting outside is one of the Lord's angels holding a megaphone hollering "Good morning Rayala family!"

Learning From a Cactus

2006-04-24T22:46:00.000-05:00

Plants are not my thing. While some people have a "green thumb", mine is black. The only time I got closely acquainted with plants was when I was courting my wife. Back then, plants became my best friends--the flowering sort to be more specific.

I once cared for a small cactus. It was something I got while I was on vacation. I was living in a dormitory and I wanted to make the place a little bit homier. I placed it on my desk so that it will relax me while I was pouring over (or snoring over) my thick textbooks.

Now please understand my motto in a lot of things: “When all else fails, read the

instructions.” During that time, I didn't “read the instructions”. I didn't think I needed to. How hard can it be to care for a cactus? So I sang to it, made sure it had lots of sun, and gave it water. Lots of water.

Things went well for a while. Until one day, my cactus just collapsed! I am not exaggerating. It just collapsed. When I looked closer, I realized what happened. Its tissue just melted away. Little did I know that it was turning hollow from within.

I wondered what happened to it so I decided it was time to “read the instructions”. I rushed to my gardening instructor, a.k.a. “mommy”, who told me that I shouldn't have watered it every day. Cacti, I learned, are used to having very little water.

This made me wonder about the times in my life when it feels like the opposite of being watered daily--drought. I'm talking about the hard and uncomfortable times when a little “spiritual hydration” would be nice.

You see, I'm used to God “watering my soul” a lot. But there are times when the water comes not in torrents but in drops. And I sometimes wonder why the Lord allows such moments to happen.

Last year was one such time. I was done with my training, but I had a seven month period when I did not have a job. That was a very difficult time for me. But that was also a time when my friendship with the God deepened tremendously.

The Lord used that time of dryness to teach me a lot of lessons. And one of those was to depend more on him.

And when I learned to depend on him, even a drop from heaven was enough.

When Was The Last Time You Fell In Love?

2006-02-13T02:45:00.000-06:00

When was the last time you fell in love?

You know, really fell…head over heels, flat on your face, swept off your feet. When it seems like you're floating on Cloud Nine and your heart feels like its going to burst out of your chest. When you wake up in the morning with a smile on your face and a song in your heart. When that stupid smile resurfaces at odd moments of the day as you drift off into a Lollipops-and-Roses-Ate Guy-Don Johnson-rowing-in-the-lake dream sequence of a reverie. When the song in your heart relates to every song you hear on the radio, and another stupid smiling session ensues, much to the chagrin of chicharon and cell phone charger street vendors.

Everything you encounter reminds you of that someone. You can't stop talking about that someone. You can't stop thinking about that someone. You try to find out everything about that someone; every little detail counts. You spend every possible opportunity together. You begin to like the things that someone likes; you begin to talk and act the way that someone does. You would do anything, move heaven and earth and heavy furniture for that someone. You actually begin to change to please that someone, to give up things that you never imagined giving up, just to show him/her and the whole world just how much in love you are.

And when was the last time someone felt that way about you? When was the last time someone loved you so much that they would spend every waking hour and all their dreamtime with you on their mind? When was the last time someone fell so much in love with you that you were the center of their universe? When was the last time someone was so stupidly, ridiculously, in love with you that they tried to get your full and undivided attention at every possible opportunity; that they wanted to share every moment of the day with you; that they made beautiful plans and wove wonderful dreams for the future with you? When was the last time that someone loved you so very much that they were willing to forgive you for all your faults, turn a blind eye to all the times you hurt them and broke their heart, and take you back into their arms?

When was the last time you wished that someone could you love you this way, with a love that is more than you could ever imagine or comprehend?

And when was the last time you believed that there is actually Someone who DOES love you with this insanely unselfish and preposterously unconditional love? That there is Someone who moved heaven and earth and invented all the laws of physics just to make a home for you, who set the stars up in the sky to guide your way and parted the sea to let you pass, who gave up the most precious thing that this earth has ever seen – His own life – just to show you exactly how much He loves you?

Someone is waiting for you to love Him back, to fall desperately and completely in love with Him, the Someone who loved us first and who will always love us the most.

Nothing is more practical than finding God,
that is, than falling in love
in a quite absolute, final way.
What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination, will affect everything.
It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning,
what you will do with your evenings,
how you will spend your weekends,
what you read, who you know,
what breaks your heart,
and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
Fall in love,
stay in love
and it will decide everything.
- Pedro Arrupe, SJ

18 October 2003

Some Kind Of Wonderful

2006-02-06T08:56:00.000-06:00

When I was a teenager in the 80’s (ahem!), I saw this John Hughes movie called Some Kind of Wonderful. The plot went something like: semi-geeky boy likes pretty, popular girl from afar; semi-geeky boy pursues pretty, popular girl; semi-geeky boy GETS pretty, popular girl; and semi-geeky boy gives up pretty, popular girl for his tomboyish, drum-playing best friend who had suffered silently all throughout. The underlying theme was unrequited love that was rewarded by being requited in the end. I think they meant to send out a message of hope to all tomboyish, drum-playing, un-pretty, un-popular girls that if they love hard enough, and if they suffer and wait long enough, they win the semi-geeky boy in the end.

But it doesn’t work that way most of the time. Think about poor Eponine in Les Miserables, who was actually the most miserable of the miserables. Or Ducky in that other 80’s movie, Pretty in Pink. Or even Julia Robert’s psycho character in My Best Friend’s Wedding. Or all the unrequited loves - romantic and otherwise - in our lives, and the indescribable heartbreak of loving someone who didn’t love you in the way you wanted, or worse, suddenly stopped doing so. Henri Nouwen knew exactly what that pain was like, and had to remove himself from the world he knew just to heal a heart that seemed to be shattered beyond repair.

Unrequited love is an unspeakably painful thing. So painful indeed that the only thing we can do is turn inwards and try to compensate for that lack of love by trying desperately to love ourselves more. Hence that concept of “looking out for number one” and building up all those walls of defenses in an attempt to “protect” ourselves from being hurt and heartbroken again. Oh yeah, I know those walls well, since I seem to have built and rebuilt them higher and stronger and deeper every time someone managed to sneak through the cracks and cause some major damage inside.

But in the midst of all this self-centered self-absorbed self-protection, our attention is focused exclusively on the me, the myself, and the I. We’re usually too busy building those walls to notice that we’re shutting everyone else out, without exception. And thus we are likewise guilty of not loving others in the same way that they love us…and of this time being the perpetrators of unrequited love.

How many times have we not returned the love that was flowing so freely in our direction? How many times have we been rude, mean, impatient, and inattentive to the people who love us most; to family and friends who have silently suffered and loved us while we channeled our own flow of love in the opposite direction? And how many times have we – how many times have I - broken the heart of the One who loved me first, and who continues to love me the most?

The whole dynamic suddenly changes when, instead of relating to the tomboyish, drum-playing eternally suffering best friend, I am suddenly in the shoes of the semi-geek, too dumb to see that true happiness does not lie in the pretty, popular, distracting things in the world. But then the realization finally comes, fortunately or unfortunately (since it only dawns near “the end”), and I can only be thankful that Someone has loved hard enough, and suffered and waited long enough, just to win me - the idiotic, dense, self-centered, semi-geek – in the end. Some Kind of Wonderful, indeed!

29 July 2003

Sail On

2006-01-31T02:15:00.000-06:00

Put your boat out just a little. Sail out to deeper water and go fishing.

His Friends

2006-01-23T04:32:00.000-06:00

It’s one of the most heart-wrenching verses I’ve ever read. I can almost hear the grief in the Lord’s voice as He turned to the Twelve, after watching many of those He once called disciples go away, to accompany Him no more.

“What about you, do you want to go away too?”

O Lord! I can identify so much with Peter’s emotion-filled reply. I know that the Rock’s heart almost burst with anguish at the mere thought; mine would! “Lord, to whom shall we go?” You were all they knew, You were the only one they wished to follow, You were the one they loved with such an inexplicable intensity that they gave up all else just to be in Your presence.

“You have the message of eternal life,” the coarse, uneducated fisherman from Galilee declared. “and we believe! We have come to know that you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:67-68) Indeed, with that knowledge prompted by Your Holy Spirit, how could they abandon You; how could they turn their backs on the Son of God like all the others had?

And yet, when the hour had come for You to be glorified, all save one not only went away, but fled as far as their feet – which You had only hours before washed so lovingly – could carry them. Worst of all, impulsive, headstrong Peter, the Rock, the sturdiest and most devoted among Your friends, denied you thrice, as You had foretold. Lord, forgive us for being so weak in our humanity; I am not sure I would have done otherwise if I were in his place.

But Your apostles’ excruciating torment over the weakness of their humanity was unspeakable mortification in itself – how could they abandon the one they professed to be the Christ, who had loved them and taught them and given them the power to work miracles? Judas’ own distress over his betrayal of innocent blood was so great that he could not bear to live with it. The fear, the guilt, the remorse – the loss of their beloved Master; I can only imagine the extent of the grief that filled the upper room and hear the weeping and gnashing of teeth as His friends languish in the miserable void suddenly brought about by His agonizing absence.

We all know the happy ending to the story. Our Lord appeared to His friends in the tightly secured cenacle, and overwhelming joy displaced mourning. He had triumphed over death, as He had promised, and despite His followers’ shameful cowardice, He proceeded to entrust them with the work He had commenced on earth, empowering them with His Spirit.

And work they did. Their beloved Redeemer was alive, and His message was too valuable to keep to themselves. These uneducated, unrefined, unsophisticated men were suddenly turned into zealous, eloquent emissaries of the Good News. The violent, quick-tempered fisherman who had dared to defy the guards of the Sanhedrin with the sword. The gentle observer of the Passion, who once harbored selfish ambitions of heavenly greatness in his heart. The repentant tax collector and friend of sinners. The doubter. All lily-livered, chicken-hearted, fraidy cats, each and every one – once upon a time.

But, after that glorious Pentecost, the most magnificent transformation occurred…something that could only be described as a miracle from on high (quite literally). For, from that day on, You, Lord were all they knew; You were the only one they wished to follow; You were the one they loved with such an inexplicable intensity that they gave up all else just to be in Your presence, once again. Desiderio Domini! The former cowards were all turned into the bravest warriors who advanced Your army to the ends of the earth. Not too long ago, they fled to safety; now they rushed joyfully into the most dangerous of endeavors, and met the most horrific of deaths. As You lay down Your life for them, so did they, ever so willingly, for You.

Peter, the Rock, and the first Father of your Church, was executed by the persecutions of Emperor Nero by upside-down crucifixion – he did not think himself worthy to suffer the same death as his Lord and Master. Popular tradition holds that, after hearing Nero's intention to kill Peter, the Christians convinced him to flee Rome. “But coming to the gate, he saw the Lord Christ come to meet him, to Whom he, worshipping said, 'Lord, whither dost Thou go?' To whom He answered and said, ' I am come again to be crucified.' By this, Peter, perceiving his suffering to be understood, returned back into the city.”

His brother Andrew, after preaching the Gospel in Macedonia, Greece, Scythia, Asia Minor, Russia, and other countries in Asia, suffered the same heinous fate, albeit spread-eagled for two days, on a X-shaped cross in Patras in Achaia, Southern Greece.

James’ (the Greater) death is the only death of an apostle recorded in scripture: he was beheaded by King Herod, as recounted in Acts 12:1-2. James became the first martyr among the apostles when King Herod Agrippa ordered his execution around AD 43 (Acts 12:2). According to Clement, as he was led to the place of his execution, his accuser, seeing James’ extraordinary courage, repented and asked for his forgiveness. This man became a Christian and asked to be martyred together with James, the first Christian missionary to Spain. They were both beheaded at the same time.

James’ brother, John the Beloved, was the only apostle not destined to die a martyr’s death – after being banished to the isle of Patmos in the Aegean Sea, he died a natural death at approximately age 100 at Ephesus.

Philip preached the Gospel in France, southern Russia, and Phyrygia, or west central Turkey, before being martyred at Hieropolis. Bartholomew (meaning “son of Thalmai”; the last name of the apostle also known as Nathanael), spread the Word in Armenia (eastern Turkey, northern Iraq, and northwestern Iraq) and suffered the fate of not only being skinned alive, but crucified and afterwards beheaded in either Derbent in the Caspian Sea or India.

Thomas Didymus, the “doubter,” is believed to have converted Gentiles in Parthia (modern Iraq and Iran) and southern India. He was speared to death near Madras on the Indian east coast.

Matthew, according to tradition, did missionary work in Egypt and Ethiopia, where he was likewise martyred by spear.

James the Less (called so most likely because of his smaller stature rather than his importance) worked in Palestine and was martyred in Egypt, where he is said to have been beaten and stoned by Jews, who finally dashed his brains out with a fuller’s club. Another version says that he was crucified in Persia.

Jude Thaddeus preached in Assyria and Persia (Iraq and Iran) before joining with Simon the Zealot (whose mission areas were Egypt, Mauritania, Africa, Libya, and Britain) in Persia, where both were killed. Alternatively, Simon is said to have been crucified in Britain.

Matthias, who replaced Judas the betrayer amongst the Twelve, is said to have preached and been stoned to death and then beheaded in either Ethiopia or Jerusalem.

Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit, was stoned to death – but not after having proclaimed the glory of God. A young Pharisee named Saul of Tarsus witnessed and approved of the death of the first Christian martyr.

Saul – later Paul - of Tarsus was beheaded in Rome after spreading wide and far the beliefs he once persecuted; the church named after him stands over his grave.

Humble men whom we now honor as the greatest among Your friends, for having brought glory to Your name and for being faithful to You even to their deaths. In Your hands and with Your Spirit, how different they became from the terrified, uncertain creatures You had first called; whose only redeeming quality at the time was the willingness to follow you, for indeed, they did not know whom else to pursue. And yet, at the end of it all, their pursuit turned out to be the Worthiest of all.

Lord God, Almighty One, Beloved Savior - You are all we know; You are the only one we wish to follow; You are the one we love with such an inexplicable intensity that we willingly give up all else just to be in Your presence. We – terrified and uncertain creatures who have nevertheless answered Your call - thank you for counting us as Your disciples - Your friends, and we lay down our lives for You as Your first friends did, knowing in our hearts that we will one day come to join You in Your happiness, for all eternity.

I need to write this as a side-bar – and I mean I REALLY NEED to write this. See, right before I started writing, I asked the Lord to guide me in honoring His loyal servants. And I asked all of these first great saints to help me honor them properly, calling each of them by name. As I did, it was as if they were converging in one place, around me, looking down from heaven and “over my shoulder,” having a little boisterous reunion of their own (something along of the lines of “Oi dude! That’s me she’s talking about!”). But even before I could write the first sentence, a friend started to chat me up online (I’d forgotten to turn off my messenger!) and it began to look like I would be occupied with a lengthy conversation. I swear, I could picture the Twelve (Fourteen actually, plus Saints Paul and Stephen, and Saint Matthias who replaced Judas) start to grumble – and even walk away! So I said another prayer that I be able to continue with this little piece uninterrupted, and, as a brother likes to say, VOYLA! My usually talkative friend suddenly needed to go off. Somehow I am absolutely sure that it was Saint Peter – Cephas! – who chased him away (probably with the same sword he used to hack off poor Malchus’ ear!). In my mind’s eye, he’s laughing about this little accomplishment. So I continue unmolested, under the watchful and curious eyes of those who our Lord first called His friends. And now, strangely enough, I know that they are my friends as well! Praise God. :-)

3 April 2004

The Current

2006-01-16T12:03:00.000-06:00

It’s been a long time – too long, I think - since I’ve been underwater, but all the basics of SCUBA diving are still fresh in my memory. Not surprising, since my dive instructor taught me well. And in this ocean of life, we’ve been fortunate enough to have come under the tutelage of a pretty good Instructor – the best there is – as well, a Teacher who has valuable lessons on sinking and swimming, of the importance of keeping your head above the waves, and even on walking on water and going out into the deep. And since both instructors are excellent educators on the art of survival, some of the lessons they teach are invariably the same – albeit applicable in different contexts.

Like one rule I learned early on: don’t fight the current.

According to Drill Sergeant Dive Instructor Sir!, there are three ways to deal with the current. Fight it, in which case you end up with a massive headache afterwards, not to mention using up all your air from hyperventilation – not a very good idea. Stay low, hold on to something firm, and let the current wash over and pass you by…after which you can proceed with your dive plan when the waters have stilled.

Or – and this is my favorite alternative – go with the flow, and simply let yourself be swept away. Submit to the whims of the current, allowing yourself to helplessly tumble every which way it leads you. Although you may not know exactly where it’s taking you, enjoy “flying” through the exhilarating ride while you’re at it… just like the turtledude Crush and his buddies did on the East Australian Current (totally known as the “EAC”). And eventually, the current will take you to calm – although sometimes strange – waters.

When life’s currents are raging against us, our natural tendency is to fight against them; to struggle and throw ourselves directly in the path of most resistance, hoping that we will prevail against the motion of the tides. And yet by doing so, we oftentimes end up doing more harm than good. Struggling against the current is like grappling with God: you know you will never prevail, even if your will wins out in the end. Oswald Chambers once said that if you wrestle with God simply because He is working in a way that doesn’t meet with your approval, you force Him to put you out of joint…and, like Jacob, to be crippled for the rest of your life (Genesis 32:24-25). Truly, by fighting against God’s currents, we refuse to acknowledge that His thoughts are above our thoughts, and that His ways are above our ways (Isaiah 55:9).

Fighting against the current – literal or figurative - almost always leads to debilitation and disaster. It is far better to keep our heads down and hold on to the firm foundation of our God’s promises, while He calms the raging seas that are crashing upon us, and then to proceed on our course when He signals “OK.” Or, even better, to LET GO and let Him direct the tides – even if they might seem frighteningly overwhelming, even if we know they will take us to a destination different from that on our “dive plans,” even if they eventually take us into the strange waters of the deep. As long as the Dive Master of our lives is in charge, riding the current can be the most exciting experience. And we are promised that calm waters are never very far ahead. For after all, He’s a totally awesome Duuuuuuude. ;-)

7 January 2004

Up Close

2006-01-02T08:11:00.000-06:00

It's amazing how beautiful ordinary things can become if we only take a closer look.

(Of course a little retouch with Photoshop won't hurt one bit.)

The Most Blessed Man Alive

2005-12-16T08:03:00.000-06:00

Once in a while you meet a person who deeply inspires you. He does so by being an example of how it is to live life the way it should be lived.

I encountered one such person today. His name is AG.

AG is an artist. He loves music and dabbles in painting. But his greatest gift is in photography. I first met him when he was fresh out of college and was still trying to figure out what to do with his life. He would have a gig here and there, simply enjoying himself in the process.

I last saw a couple of years ago. It was to be married that day and I invited him to take pictures. I already hired a photographer who would take all the “usual” shots. So I asked him to take all the unconventional pictures that he wanted and and be as creative as he could.

Back then, I did not have much time to speak with him. But from what I heard, he was working for the World Wildlife Fund (WWF). His job? To document the lives of whales by taking pictures of them. Wow!

This is a person who knows how to live life, I told myself. He has discovered his passion and found a job that allowed him to "indulge" in it. Working must not feel like working at all. This made me envy him a bit.

I am a physician and a lot of times, work feels like work. More so during that time when I was doing my residency training. The work hours were inhumane. I was extremely busy with doing rounds and seeing patients. The busyness of it all prevented me from taking time to realize how blessed I was.

I felt that AG was in a good place because he was doing what he loved doing most.

I was wrong, however, when I assumed that taking pictures was the one thing that gave him greatest happiness. Or gut-level joy as some would call it. It turned out that there was something else he loved doing more...

Two years had passed when I met my friend again. We had a common acquaintance who asked me to see patients at an area where some urban poor had been relocated.

It was quite a drive to the site. I had to pass through unpaved mountainous roads to get there. When I finally arrived, I was welcomed by someone named Mike. The rest of the team had not arrived so I had time for a short chat with my host.

Mike is one of the leaders of a non-profit organization called He Cares. They have two sites and this one caters to of a group of impoverished people relocated from the city. I learned that they have numerous programs for the poor but their livelihood program was the one that impressed me most.

They were training people to create marvelous ironwork. Mike showed me a few—beautifully handcrafted picture frames, abstract statues, unique lamps, and exquisite decors. They sell these to mall-based stores with most of the profit going back to the poor.

My conversation with Mike ended when AG and the others arrived. It was getting late in the morning so we soon drove to the housing project and I started seeing some patients. When all the patients had gone, I finally had time to catch up with AG.

We talked about a lot of things. I remembered seeing an article written about his work in a newspaper. Some of his photographs were showcased in that article and I asked him about the one where lightning struck the ground. I was amazed at how close he was to that potentially fatal bolt of electricity.

Later into the conversation, he related that he doesn't spend much time taking pictures these days. A lot of his time is spent doing volunteer work for He Cares with the rest going to another church-based organization in a far-flung province. He told me how he finds so much joy in doing these things. He gets more pleasure in interacting with the poorest of the poor than playing around with his lenses.

When asked how he makes a living, he told me that he gets no money from either organization. All of his income, he gets from taking pictures. And it's not a lot since he spends only about a fifth of his time in photography.

When he earns more than he needs, he gives the rest of his money to feeding the poor at He Cares. I looked at him more closely. He looks does look leaner, perhaps because of the meals he occasionally skips. But he also looks a lot happier. And there's an inexplicable glow surrounding him.

It was time for my drive home but I could barely focus my eyes on the road. They were clouded with tears. My encounter with AG affected me in such a profound way.

Very few people can just turn their backs from the lures of this world and pursue the work of God with complete abandon. But those who do find joy like no other. It was then that I realized how blessed AG is.

Anticipation

2005-11-16T10:28:00.000-06:00

Where is my love? When will he come?

As this woman anticipates the arrival of her lover, I am reminded that I should have the same attitude towads my Lord. I should eagerly anticipate his presence in my life each day!

God Speaking Through a Cappuccino

2005-09-01T07:57:00.000-05:00

Have you sometimes felt God telling you something in his own subtle way? It's incredibly hard to describe this manner of communication. Something akin to describing what a rose smells like or what the color red is (without citing examples). But sometimes there's an inner "tug" in your heart. And you sort of feel that it’s the Lord “tugging” you because you feel his gentle peace. The clincher for me is when I’m being “tugged” into doing something that’s good for me but not something I necessarily want to do.

This morning, I drove my wife to her office and proceeded to a meeting I had. It was only 8:30 and my contact always arrives at around 9:30. I figured I had an hour to waste.

I parked in front of a coffee shop near his office and started putting quarters in the parking meter. I usually spend 3 hours meeting with this person but I only had an hour worth of quarters.

Then comes that “tug” I was telling you about.

Something in my heart was telling me that I should immediately proceed to his office (and maybe ask his secretary for some more quarters).

But what I first wanted to do was buy a cappuccino and get my quarters from the coffee shop.

But still, there was that inner tug…

Instead of ignoring it, I did what often worked in the past. I rationalized. I told myself that getting the cappuccino was the logical thing to do since I was a bit sleepy. The caffeine boost, I figured, would help me get some work done before our meeting starts.

I headed to the coffee shop and ordered a decaf cappuccino. Then I fed the parking meter a few more dollars and proceeded to the office.

I entered his office and greeted his staff as I usually do. They greeted me back but seemed puzzled I was there. They then told me that their boss was on vacation.

I realized that he did tell me about this trip. But for some reason, I did not make a note of it in my organizer.

I started walking back to the car laughing at myself. The Lord was trying to save me a few bucks but I was too stubborn to listen.

As I was driving to my office, I made a mental note to pay more attention to that “inner tug” next time for the stakes may be a bit higher than a few dollars.