Mother

I dreamt of my mother the other night. In my dream, I was sick and had to be confined in my room. Then I just heard a commotion outside and somebody told me that they were bringing my mother somewhere because she needs to be away for some time for a much needed rest. I wanted to go out and to say goodbye to her but they wouldn't let me because I was sick. I shouted and I cried but they wouldn't let me. The last image I had was of seeing my mother from afar being accompanied outside. Then I woke up.
Today is my mother's tenth death anniversary. I can't believe it has been ten years. I still cannot believe that when I go home for my vacation she will not be there.
My mother died suddenly. She was not bedridden nor was she confined to a hospital. She had some medical problems, but just a month before her death, we were together for my brother's diaconal ordination.
In fact, the memories I have of my mother will always be that of a smiling woman, friendly, outgoing, always willing to lend a helping hand, forgiving and never keeping grudges. Her patience was really admirable.
I miss my mother so much. I am sure that just by being with her, I would be re-charged and renewed, in order to see life with optimism, to look at people with compassion, to deal with everyday mistakes with humility, and to have a great trust in God.
Somehow, I know that she is still with me. After all, a part of her is in me.
Thank you, nanay. I miss you. From heaven, continue to bless our family and fill our hearts with joy.

It is the heart that sees

The Gospel according to Matthew talks of the women who went to the tomb in the dead of the night. It was as if, for them, the death of Jesus did not cut the ties that bound them to Him. For indeed, what is the sense of going to the tomb? They certainly had very exhausting days and the most logical thing to do was to have some rest. But can anybody who has lost a significant part of oneself rest? You may reason out with your mind, but the heart says otherwise, and it is always the heart that wins. Probably this is the reason why we need to mourn, to give time for the heart to say farewell, to let the heart take its own time to say goodbye.
To say farewell to someone who has been an important part of one's life is one of the most difficult things to do because the love in your heart is still present but the object of that love is no more, at least physically. To mourn takes time because it follows no program. It has no timetable.
I admire those women-followers of Jesus who did not choose to take a short cut, but who, instead, faced their pain. It takes a lot of courage and honesty. And they were rewarded. They managed to see the life that was bursting forth.
Why is it that in other parts of the Gospels, the apostles and the disciples saw Jesus but they did not recognize Him; instead, these women, when they suddenly met Jesus, "came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshipped him." They recognized Him.
Indeed, it is true, "only the heart sees what is essential that is invisible to the eye."
And so I respect the time that my heart needs to mourn, but I will not forget that it is not sorrow nor death that has the last word.
This is the message of Easter. Sorrow is a necessary part of life; but it is love that has the last word.
I will remember Blessed Teresa of Cacutta's words:
Remember that the passion of Christ ends always in the joy of the Resurrection.
So when you feel in your own heart the suffering of Christ,
remember the resurrection has to come, the joy of Easter has to dawn.
Never let anything so fill you with sorrow
as to make you forget the joy of the Risen Christ!

In patience, Jesus shows strength

Yesterday, we followed on television the Pope's annual Via Crucis. The commentary this year was very profound and touches life. Or it could be that I am in a very sensitive and pensive state at the moment. The brief introduction for the 7th Station "Jesus falls the second time" struck me: Gesù non dimostra potenza, ma insegna pazienza (Jesus does not show power, but teaches patience).
As I followed that Way of the Cross, it has struck me more and more that Jesus has really assumed everything that is human. We can say that in Jesus we see everything that is truly human, yes, everything, even those we would want to do away with in our lives: mistakes, failures, incomprehension, misjudgment, rejection, solitude, wounds, sickness, death. Yes, everything except sin.
So I can no longer say that since God cannot suffer, He cannot understand human suffering.
Indeed, God does understand. In the broken and mangled body of Jesus, we see that God has entered into the abyss of human suffering.
The God of Jesus, my God, has His own way of dealing with suffering. It is mindboggling because it defies human logic.
Often, I refuse His way. Often, like a spoiled child, what I want is for Him to take away the pain and to make everything right.
Because I am often fixated on what I want, on what I believe is the logical, the right way, I fail to see that, constantly, especially in moments of suffering, God gives me the greatest gift: HIS PRESENCE.
It is this presence of God that will allow me to be more patient everyday, patient with myself, patient with others, patient with life. It is patience which is the sign of true strength.

Reconciled

I went to Confession yesterday. Oh, what a wonderful encounter with God. How good Jesus is that He has instituted this sacrament. I am so sorry for those who do not have this privilege. I know that it is God who forgives sins, but through the priest's voice, God gives me the words of His forgiveness and other messages.
For me, the sacrament of Reconciliation is one of Jesus' greatest gifts to His Church. He knows that, human as we are, we understand and experience salvation through the mediation of visible and tangible signs.
The thing that makes Confession sometimes difficult for me is human respect, especially when I know the minister, or when I confess the same sin over and over again, or I confess something shameful (but what sin is not shameful!). But Jesus helps me to overcome this, as I remember that before God I stand stark naked, but He loves me just the same. I have nothing to boast of before God. Whatever good I do, I am able to because of Him. Whenever I sin, He is willing to forgive me "seventy times seven". I just have to trust more and more in the love of this marvellous God who defies human logic.
And what graces Jesus gives me through Confession! First of all, I have the certainty that I have been forgiven. I cannot doubt that, after all, I have heard the words of absolution. At the same time, through the priest's words, God gives me an opportune message as I continue my journey of conversion.
Indeed, what a great gift the sacrament of Reconciliation is.

The way of "weakness"

Christ's way, the way of "weakness", is actually the way of the strong. Only those who are strong can say "Here, with me, stops the violence. I refuse to continue this chain of hurt, so I will not answer back with a cutting remark..." I really think that Christ's way is the only way to true peace.
My many experiences tell me how my seemingly witty remark, articulate and, at the same time, pregnant and cutting with the message it conveys, in the end, left a bitter taste on my mouth. Only I know that. Only I can judge what it is that motivates what I say - is it the truth, or charity, or self-promotion, or vengeance, or a dare?
Hurting people will never make me happy especially if it is only because of our differences in opinion, taste, color or religion. It indicates my "narrow world", and the more I hurt others, the narrower my world becomes.
The way of kindness is the only way to live, or at least to have a life worth living. The problem is, we get very few models of this. Kindness gets very bad press.
I need to fix my eyes on Jesus, the real Strong One, the One who is meek and humble of heart.