A ray of light

I had a phone conversation with my sister today. For me, it was heaven-sent, a manifestation of God's tender mercy.
These days I have been thinking of something and it seems like I am just going around in circles. Several times I felt so tired and exhausted. It has even robbed me of spontaneity.
My younger sister, as always the strong one, the frank one who calls things by their name, helped me to look into this maze from another viewpoint, albeit, not an easy one.
My problem hasn't been solved, but I now see it from another light. Indeed, my sister's words have given me hope and courage to make an important decision.
Thank God for sisters.

Crucified

My profession group chose as its motto "it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me" (cf. Gal 2:20). Beautiful, and indeed, a true programme of life.
I have been a professed nun for almost 19 years already, and I should say, that the road towards that programme isn't exactly what I have bargained for. Of course when we were novices (the immediate years of preparation for profession), we were told about the demands of the religious life, that it is not an easy life, as if any life is easy. To get back to the point, that ideal of dedicating my whole life to Jesus was so overwhelming that "I didn't read thoroughly through the whole contract".
Do I regret making this commitment, and making it for life? Not for a second, despite the fact that life hasn't been smooth, especially these years.
Today, as I was making my monthly retreat, I re-read again this motto of ours, and realized that I've missed the first part: I have been crucified with Christ. That is the pre-requisite to living in Christ. I cannot arrive at saying that it is Christ who lives in me, unless I accept to be crucified with Him.
And this is what I have been experiencing these past months. Despite the sufferings, the misunderstandings, the rejection, the failed projects, I am able to be kind, to reach out, to give a helping hand, to take part in community life, to pray. So I can really say that it is not me but Jesus.
All saints pass through the dark night, the aridity, the persecution and misunderstanding of people, the seeming absence of God, yet they persevered. That is why they are saints.
My problem is, my sufferings are most of all because of my character, my sensibility, or they are consequences of certain choices I've made in the past. It is like, it is I myself who have crucified me. Do I make sense?
But the cross is so very real, and I am there, crucified, immobile, without any capacity to leave it, after all how can I negate my character, my sensibility, or the consequences of my past choices? Yes, I am crucified. It is not a comfortable place. I cannot deny it or spiritualize it because I feel the pain and the suffering in my flesh.
And it is in this crucifixion that I experience the tremendous presence of Jesus, even if many times I do not feel it. I mean, just the fact that I am still sane, I can still function, I can put my thoughts into this blog, well, they are signs of resilience, aren't they?
So, yes, it is not me who does all these. It is Jesus. He lives in me.

Daisies remind me of spring

I woke up tired this morning. I know I slept well but I felt like going through the whole morning with a distracted mind and a heavy heart.

It could have been caused by a very hectic week, with several deadlines, other pending matters that had to remain pending. In short, those blessed "balls in the air".
And then I felt it again, that "ache", that unexplainable void within. I thought I have already passed that stage; but I guess it never passes. Life and its many circumstances will, at one time or another, make that "ache" resurface.
I prayed and I thought of good and beautiful things. One thing I've learned these past months is that it is God who helps me to survive and get through these moments. So my prayer nowadays is, "Lord, just give me enough strength and joy to live through the suffering".
People may think I am exaggerating when I call this "void" suffering. But, really, it is a suffering. I wouldn't wish anybody to go through it. It is already a suffering for me because I know, in my head, that it is something small compared with the great sufferings of many people in the world. Secondly, it can take away from me all zest for life and attention to the small joys that life brings.
It is here that I rely on the power of Jesus. I do not look at Him as a magician or an opium. Indeed, in all these months of my strong experience that led to this suffering, Jesus did not take it away. I have suffered, and still do sometimes, the pain of rejection, the boredom of routine, the fatigue of community life.
So where does Jesus enter in this story?
He gives meaning to this suffering. His life and His teaching tell me that after the cross there is the resurrection; that unless the seed falls down to the ground and dies it will not bear fruit.
He gives me strength to live through the moment with hope. Praying His Word and receiving Him in the Eucharist give me this strength. I know that He is with me. He is the friend that never fails.

After a few more tries at working in my office, I decided to go out and take a walk. I saw the field covered with daisies. Yes, it's still winter; the daisies reminded me of spring.
In the winter of my heart, Jesus assures me of springtime.

Growing up

Growing up means listening to people but deciding for myself.
One of the paradoxes of our society is that, despite the greater possibilities of communication, more people intensely feel loneliness and isolation. So we try all the means we can to fit in, to, at least, find a few people whom we can call "friends". So we "shop around" to know people's tastes, their lifestyle, their values or ideologies, their faith. Then we try to pattern our life to theirs.
Of course there are also people who don't listen to the world outside because of stubbornness. This won't do, either. No one is perfect and we can see things better when we are confronted with others.
So where is growth, then?
To grow up means to listen to others because I am not the center of the world. Everything is not about me. But while listening, I decide for myself. I don't take everything hook, line and sinker, just because someone influential says so.
It takes patience because it needs time. I have to let what I hear sink deeper, but without self-recrimination, and trust that the Holy Spirit will help me to discern what is true and necessary in my life.
Change takes time. Real change has to start from within. People may think that nothing is happening because they only see what they see, and they tend to demand immediate results.
But I need to be patient with myself. The journey is long and lonely. I need to experience that Jesus loves me. It is His love that will transform my loneliness into a quiet union with Him in the secret of my heart.

Balls in the air

These days there are so many "balls in the air", an expression that I use when I find myself faced with so many pending things. By nature, these things tend to make me nervous. I prefer to do things one at a time. I enjoy the feeling of knowing I have finished something, that I have, sort of, "closed one drawer", even if it is something small or barely significant.
The irony is, it is these days that I experience very strongly the power of Jesus Christ. I am witness to so many miracles, big and, most of the time, small in my everyday life. Before I go to bed, I leave everything in the hands of Jesus. When I cannot seem to solve or to finish something, I consciously ask Jesus to take over. After all, I am just His instrument.
And I experience peace and a bit of humour, as I come more and more to the realization that I am not at the center. I am not the saviour of the world. This realization does not make me lazy. Nay, it makes me grateful.
I can do something. God involves me in His work of salvation, it doesn't matter whether what I do is big or small, visible or hardly seen. What is important is the love that God gives me that permeates my whole being, enabling me to give love, albeit an imperfect one.
Yesterday I had a sophia experience. These days I have been working on a little reflection about how we can improve our evangelization in Asia. It wasn't an easy work. I had to spend time and accept the contribution of others in order to, sort of, bring my reflection to maturity. I am happy with what I was able to produce. My boss was very appreciative, too. But the reflection is quite long and it needs to be reduced and the Italian has to be corrected. For a while, I felt protective of my work. It was as if I did not want anybody to touch it because I have worked hard for it. It is my baby.
Then a line from the Litay of Humility came to my mind: That others may be seen and I set aside.
O Jesus, how totally and radically different are your ways from our ways, from our natural sentiments.
Then I realized that I do not need praise. Even if others do not recognize or may never know my work, I am not deprived of anything. Having done something good is a joy in itself. And the learnings and insights I've gained, no one can take them away from me.