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Last week I participated in a four-day intense seminar organized by the Pontifical Council for migrants and itinerant people about the pastoral care of this sector with special focus on Europe. I wasn't very keen on attending it because I knew of the intense schedule and the group work I had to participate in, but now I am very grateful to God for the opportunity. We talked about the different faces of marginalisation: trafficked persons, streetchildren, the homeless, workers on the road, etc. We had wonderful moments of sharing in groups and we've listened to so many touching experiences. I remembered my own years of being with the streetchildren.
This seminar has sort of help me gain another insight on my ongoing experience. I have always been inspired by the text "a bruised reed he will not break and a smoldering wick he will not quench" (Mt 12:20). In fact, it is my blog's subtitle. This has always helped me to be patient with people, especially the young ones I've met in my journey. But at this point in my life I really feel like I am the bruised reed hanging on to that very thin link with the plant. It's like experiencing in my own flesh, and maybe testing whether I really believe in it, that God won't "break" me.
I have worked for many years for many "bruised reeds" but maybe I haven't really gotten inside their pain and their insecurities, their resilience and their capacity to take one moment at a time, how just getting through a day is already a big victory, how just being able to sleep or wake up the following day calls for gratitude to God.
I know that after the cross comes the resurrection. That is my big hope. But I also have to make sense of the cross.
