Peter and Paul

Peter and Paul, two great saints.
Peter and Paul, two pillars of the Church.
Funny but when we think of great people, we always expect them to be perfect. But these two were not.
Peter, despite the privilege conferred on him by Jesus Himself, to be the first among the apostles, denied any knowledge of Jesus in front of a slave girl, of all people.
Paul, the great apostle, talked about a thorn in the flesh, most probably, in our vocabulary, a defect.
Somehow these two tell me that greatness is not equal to perfection. Greatness does not mean being somebody other than yourself so that you can conform to a certain model.
Greatness is truth. It is being truthful to oneself. It is accepting who I am, both my lights and shadows. No person is without anything positive or good.
When we live our lives according to who we are, without regrets, without excuses, then we are on the road to greatness.
Lastly, greatness does not mean being popular or being acclaimed.
Greatness is to feel good about oneself and to do my part, little though it may be, to make life a little bit better and kinder to someone.
When I can say, with a twinkle in my eyes, "I feel great!", this is the greatness that really matters.

God has no fingers

Today's first reading is from Genesis 18:16-33, where Abraham bargained with God so God won't destroy Sodom and Gomorrah if He finds some righteous people there. The bargain went from fifty to ten. When he arrived at ten, Abraham stopped, probably thinking that it would be too much of a stretch to expect God to agree to a number lower than ten.
In a take on this story, one author re-wrote the story with a twist in the ending: As Abraham was leaving, he failed to see that God did not have hands...
I was struck by this second ending. If Abraham looked closely, he would have seen that God does not have hands. He would have realized that without hands, God cannot count whether there are ten righteous people among the peoples of Sodom and Gomorrah.
This is the God I believe in, a God of infinite mercy and goodness. This is the God that Jesus introduced to us, a God that forgives seven times seven; meaning, without limits.
Our God doesn't keep an account book.
We often take for granted the power of supplication, of praying for others. Since God is a God of mercy and compassion, He is happy when we partake of His mercy and compassion.
In the end, perhaps the bargaining is not really with God but with ourselves. Can I lower my "boundaries" from fifty to zero, and be able to forgive with all my heart? Can I widen my heart so as to give space even to people who do not "deserve" it?

Never the same

Every person, at one time or another, goes through a "Humpty Dumpty" experience, when the world, as it is known, suddenly crashes and "all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again".
This experience normally catches one by surprise, though, as one looks back, there may have already been signs along the way.
When the Humpty Dumpty experience happens, the first reaction is to ask oneself: Where did I go wrong? What didn't I do right? Why did this happen to me?
Then follows the frantic attempt to re-create the lost world, to try to put back things as they were. But, somehow, one finds out that the pieces of the puzzle don't fit anymore. You suddenly get the insight that, no matter how hard you try, it won't work, that any attempt is futile.
But your heart is afraid to surrender because, after all, the old world, despite its imperfections, is the only world you know.
Then daily life becomes a battleground:
between resistance and abandonment;
between holding on and letting go;
between self-blame and compassion;
between resentment and gratitude;
between despair and moving on.
It will take time before one finally reaches a certain level of equilibrium, when you start to see life in a realistic way, but with hope.
And there will still be moments of uncertainty, but that is okay because they remind you that this life is not our permanent home.
Yes, you will heal, but you're never the same.

Not in control

These days I am living in tension, that is, there are so many things in my mind and in my heart. When they surface, I don't have the time to face them because there are more pressing works to attend to. When I find time, I cannot recover the stirrings that have surfaced during my busy time; but subconsciously, I am not at ease because I know that there is something I have to attend to.
This situation has now become so normal and ordinary in my life. I don't know whether it is temporary, or whether I will be able to get back a little semblance of "serenity".
I admit that I am not in control of my life. The words "Lord, just let me live through this day", has become my mantra.
In a way, I find this expression very dry and bereft of creativity. It is like I am back to Level 1, that is, my life is just a fight for survival.
On the other hand, it could be an expression of an important lesson I have learned the hard way: Without God, I am nothing.

Signs

Yesterday, God spoke to me concretely through two signs ...





As I was taking a stroll in our garden, I saw "the tree". I call it my tree because I feel a certain affinity to it. Two years ago, it looked to be dying with its bare branches, dry and decaying trunk. It was a picture of sheer helplessness. It was an image of life's transitoriness.
Now it is alive. Its branches full of green and robust leaves. It has grown big that it provides ample shade on a hot day.
God's message: There is life after death. In fact, in many ways, death is necessary in order to have true life.

Among the email messages I received, I got a story entitled "The Necklace". It is a very simple but poignant story. I will not attempt to make a summary because it is more beautiful to read in its entirety.
God's message: It is not easy to let go of things we think are the best for us. I do not know why, but in most cases, we cannot have the real best unless we let go of the second best.

Family

There is no perfect family. There is no generic checklist that would tell us what is a perfect family. We always look at our family from our own perspective and, wounded and imperfect as we are, it is always very subjective.
I can always find many personal strengths that have been influenced by my family, but, more often I focus on what is lacking, on my weaknesses, and it is always convenient to excuse myself or to blame my family.
"You can choose your friends, you cannot choose your family". This may sound like a curse, as if family is a burden one cannot do away with. Instead, my family gives me roots.
My family is a concrete expression that I belong, that I exist. My family will always be there whether I deserve it or not. I will always be a part of my family, whether I like it or not.
I guess, family reminds me that there are certain things in life that are a given. I cannot deny them. The choice that I have is how I will let them be a part of my life.

A very long distance

Between the mind and the heart, there is a very long distance. It happens very frequently to me now that certain things are very clear, reasonable and appealing to me at the level of the mind, but the heart says another thing. Sometimes I find myself numb and paralyzed. I know what I have to do, and I am totally convinced that I must do it, but the helplessness is there. So within myself I have two opposing forces. It must be what St. Paul was talking about...
To illustrate what I mean, it's like I have left my familiar shores because the other side is beckoning me. What lies ahead is very attractive, clear and luminous. I know I am moving but I don't seem to be getting nearer to the other side. I know I cannot go back anymore to my familiar shores, but where I am is a very insecure place. It's like I am moving but I don't seem to be going anywhere. It's like being stuck; I am neither here nor there.
Oh God, just give me what I need for today.
Let your grace be enough for me. Let your will be the source of my joy.

Forgiven and loved ... always

In any conflict, it is very easy and natural to think that we are the one unfairly treated. Jesus' words "love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you" is like an invitation for us to do something heroic, since it automatically comes to our mind that we are the one unfairly treated and unjustly persecuted.
This morning, I looked at this invitation from another perspective: It is God who loves me with a crazy love. Before I could have done this to anybody, God did it to me and continues to do so. God blesses me without any merit on my part. His goodness is without limits and conditions. He doesn't make a list of my failings and transgressions. I am not any less before His eyes because of my limitations. In fact, I have a feeling that He loves me more when I am weakest.
So when I read again this Gospel passage, I will not do so with a triumphalistic attitude because of my ability to practice it in my relationship with others. Rather, I will read it with gratitude, because my everyday life is a witness to This God who is Compassion, who loves me even when I am too busy focusing on myself and incapable of recognizing His faithful love.